#robot lovers come get your food I promise its good

[timeregistry]

A Human's Touch (p.AI.nter x Reader) | Chapter 8

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Notes: Double post today, merry christmas!

As promised, Sebastian was in your office.

His expression was tense yet focused. So focused that he didn’t even notice you come in the room.

Next to him, there was a stack of documents, how fast was he reading these?

“I got you the part you wanted.” You broke the silence, he looked up with wide eyes only to relax immediately seeing how it was you. Gently, you put the part on your desk, motioning with your now free hand at the stack of documents. “What’s up with these?”

“Do you need a specific keycard to open some of these?”

“No, not always,” you answered immediately, “why?”

“Even those in Heavy Containment?”

“... Some… Why are you asking me this?”

Sebastian put the document in his hands down. Z-367, Pandemonium. Why was he reading that document? “No reason.”

You crossed your arms, “I think I deserve to know as I gave you the answers easily.”

Sebastian has been extremely secretive recently, he hasn’t been telling you much and would vanish quite often. To say it hurt you a bit how you haven’t been talking as much as you have other times bothered you. But what bothered you the most was how he looked that something bothered him greatly and he wouldn’t tell you.

It hurt you, as his friend, to see him act this way.

“Please don’t do this to me doc’.” Sebastian would pinch the bridge of his nose. “I can’t… I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what? Sebastian, I’m worried for you…” He would press his lips in a thin line as he looked to the side. “You’ve been strong this whole time, even treating Painter so gently but I know there’s something on your mind… You don’t have to shoulder this alone.”

Sebastian’s ear fins would pin to his head as if a cat, his body deflating as he heard your words, a whisper escaping his lips. “They might hear us…”

It felt like your conversation from just a couple of hours prior was repeating, only that this time you just wanted to tell him that Urbanshade wasn’t listening yet there was a little voice in your mind that told you otherwise.

With a sigh, you looked over at your desk. Perhaps it was time to check around the room again.

Leaving Sebastian alone, you looked around your desk. Inside the drawers, under the table and chairs, unplugged any device you had. You grabbed your laptop and put it inside a bag, stuffing your phone and any other electronic devices in it.

Sebastian stared at you as you left the room with the bag, his expression still glum. Only to perk up slightly at seeing you come back—this time without the bag.

“Now they won’t.” You brought your arms up, turning around in place as you turned your pockets out. “I removed everything that should be able to hear us. Here’s to hoping no one steals my stuff.”

You smiled lightly at Sebastian but he only blinked at you, he was stupefied. “Your stuff is getting stolen.”

“Don’t jinx it!”

Sebastian seemed to smile slightly at the situation, slithering closer to you as he put a hand on the wall. He would lean lower, his height was intimidating like this. “Fine, you win. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He would straighten up, grabbing your chair and pushing it in your direction. “Feel free to take a seat, this is serious. Fall asleep and I’ll kill you.”

You grabbed the chair that Sebastian pushed in your direction, flipping it to sit down. “I won’t.” His threat was serious, you knew he was capable. Knowing that, it was almost as if any fatigue from the day before left your body.

“Good.” He would let out a sigh, turning away from you. “I don’t know how to put it.”

“Take your time.” You insisted. “There’s always other ways to say it if you need it-”

“No, I’ll say it, and I’ll only say this once.” Sebastian said sternly, pointing at you as he finally turned around to face you. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever make it back to the surface.”

This wasn’t the first time that Sebastian would have this conversation with you. His insecurity would take him over, from how he looks to how he’s perceived. He became hopeless years ago yet managed to gain a bit of hope with your help.

He would look at you as if exhaustion took him over, as if he became weak as his head would fall and his position changed into a slump.

“What brought this up..?” You looked over at him, face morphing into pure worry. He hasn’t been like this since the first time he opened up to you.

Sebastian turned away from you once again, grabbing a document from his stack. “I feel powerless!” His shoulders would tense up as he turned around to you. Your eyes widened as you realized which document he had in his hands.

His own.

“This isn’t even the full information, there’s parts that neither you nor I know. In all of these documents, I’m sure!” Sebastian motioned to the stack of documents with his third arm, a hand on his head as he brushed his bangs back, only for them to go back to their original position.

Before you could say anything Sebastian would flip the folder back to his direction. “I overheard some high-ranked guards—don’t ask me how—but they were talking about me.” He sighed, slumping back down as he put a hand on his forehead. His emotions kept going all over the place. “They said something about my sentence… hah…”

“Sebastian-”

“Wait. There’s more to say.” He would look into your eyes once more. “I heard them say that they will transfer me.”

“What?”

“Some other facility—I don’t know!” He approached you, grabbing your chair. “I have to do something—anything—”

He looked as if he wanted to say more, yet as he opened his mouth once more, only a squeak would come out as a stray tear fell from his cheek, it was rare for him to break down, he never did.

Yet here he was in front of you, broken just as he was when he told you about his past. He would slump once more, this time right in front of you, his esca barely touching your torso.

Sebastian would rarely call you by name, he would joke that it was because he never wanted to grow attached to you. Yet here was one of the few times he did. You don’t know what he heard, but what you did know is that it tore him apart just as Urbanshade did to him.

If Sebastian was telling the truth, then that meant that he would leave the Blacksite for another place that might be more unsafe. And in turn, no longer be under your protection.

“I’m here.” You put your hand on his head. He flinched for a second before relaxing once more.

“Tell me about the outside again, the surface.” Sebastian’s voice was quiet. The request was heavy, it always was. It made him seem as if he was raised here and not stolen away from his previous life.

In another world, he would have been out there. Living his life, working in engineering for a safer company. Not be forced to, knowing of the threat that loomed in the air.

In another world, he would have been able to have a pet and be able to come back home to the safety of his home.

In another world, his biggest worry would’ve been something as simple as his favourite band disbanding one day.

Yet he was here, a husk of the person he once was. With no hope of being able to escape the Blacksite to the freedom he craves, that he deserves.

Your eyes held a rage to them, from what Urbanshade did to him, to what they did to everyone. So many subjects in the Blacksite were innocent and conscious. They didn’t deserve the fate that was given to them for whatever cruel reason that Urbanshade would need it.

Sebastian didn’t look up, he took deep breaths as he attempted to calm down. You relaxed, your rage for Urbanshade could wait. Your hand went by his hair slightly as a comforting manoeuvre.

With a sigh, you started to speak. “Well… There has been an increase in restaurants that have been serving cuisines from other countries. The flavours of all around the world can now be tasted closer to home, now people don’t need to travel far.” You paused, you wanted to speak of something new yet now you told Sebastian everything you knew, it was hard to come up with something different even if he didn’t ask for it. “It’s the same for bakeries, there has been an increase from different places–”

“You’re gonna make me hungry,” Sebastian whined, crossing his arms on your lap as he lifted his face slightly. His voice was slightly hoarse as he sniffled slightly. He was incredibly heavy yet right now you put the thought behind, it wasn’t important right now.

“It was the first thing that came to mind!”

Sebastian put his index finger on your chest, poking it. “Now you owe me some empanadas, specifically cheese filling.”

“Do you know how hard it is to get the ingredients?!”

“I know you have the batter mix, I’ll steal the cheese from the kitchen.”

He let out a playful grin. It seemed he was starting to feel better. It wasn’t perfect, but even if he felt a little bit better you would be happy.

“Fine.” You give in, tilting your head with a pout.

“Also I lied I want one beef one too.” He corrected.

“Hey! You’ll already want me to make like… ten!”

“Uh huh, nine cheese, one beef. I’m suddenly craving a braised beef one too…”

“Sebastian…” You looked at him in faux disappointment. “I’m not your cook.”

“You take care of me though~,” he said in a singsong voice. “I’m your responsibility~!”

Sebastian blinks innocently, he was definitely feeling better already if he could joke around with you. Or his stomach was making his decisions for him and he was really hungry.

“Fine…” You affirmed once more. “The things I do for you.”

“You love me.”

“Not anymore! You make me cook for you, that’s not in my job description.”

Sebastian would straighten up, a smile still on his lips. He looked as if he hadn’t cried at any point, you wonder if it has something to do with his biology. “Well, now it is. Do you really want me to break the community kitchen? They won’t be happy knowing that–”

“Okay okay, I get it!”

You got up from the chair, stretching slightly and trying to ignore the soreness from Sebastian's previous weight on you. He would pick up the documents and put them all in a singular drawer, turning around as he brushed his hands to remove any dust.

“Let’s split up, you get the ingredients for the dough, I’ll get the filling from the storage.”

You shook your head, said storage was locked for everyone but specific staff yet Sebastian always somehow made it in. It made you truly wonder how much Sebastian could do that you didn’t know.

Scratch that, you wonder how much Sebastian could do that Urbanshade never caught him on.

“Alright, meet me in the kitchen when you’re done.”

You walked at the door to your office, turning around to see Sebastian in your desk drawers. “What are yo-”

Sebastian would pull out your extra ID, one that you somehow keep forgetting about. “I’ll be taking this!”

“You better not be using it to put me in trouble.”

“Alright…” He trailed off, stuffing the ID into one of his pockets and slithering next to you as he opened the door. “I’ll try not to, no promises!”

Sebastian let out a malicious grin as he left fast before you could counter his argument. You shook your head once more, you trusted him to not get you in trouble. Yet at the same time, you had no idea what he really used your ID for.

The next hour was spent cooking with Sebastian… Well, more like you cooked and he occasionally passed your ingredients. He kept eating the raw dough and the filling, when you would catch him he would just look like a deer in headlights.

He would excuse himself in multiple ways, ‘I was hungry’ was the main one, but there was also ‘I brought too much anyways’ and finally there were times when he would silence you by putting an ingredient in your mouth, saying how you were now his accomplice.

That wasn’t very fair of him but at the same time you were only cooking for each other and it was only the two of you in the kitchen. It was far from a meal hour. Sebastian wasn’t the easiest to cook for either because he wanted you to make the empanadas in such a specific way, any other way was incorrect.

Sometimes you would let out a yawn, you forgot how tired you were earlier. The day was so eventful that you forgot how tired you were. It was only in moments like this one, where all you did was simple mundane things, that you would remember that you are still human, and were still a victim of fatigue.

Sebastian would poke you slightly to make sure you were awake as he would sometimes take over areas that he could. He struggled, thanks to his size, but his help was appreciated.

After you were done, you would place the plate on a table. A stack of perfectly made empanadas stood there as you puffed your chest in pride with such a beautiful set of empanadas.

Sebastian would get to the other side of the table, grabbing one in his hands as he bit it. His face was content as he nodded. “These are perfect.”

“That’s good.” You took a chair and sat at the other side.

“Just like mom’s,” Sebastian admitted, his expression softened. “Thanks.”

He went on to grab another as he stared at the crescent moon shape, breaking it in two as he stuffed one half in his mouth. “You can grab one if you want.” He offered. “I’m feeling nice.”

“You’re letting me try the fruit of my labour?”

“If you put it that way I’m taking the offer BACK.”

You chuckled, taking one of the empanadas from the stack.

It was silent for a while, Sebastian scarfing down the empanadas while you sat back enjoying the peace. Sebastian was happy and content, it was nice to see him at peace once more, simply enjoying food with no care in the world. You hope that one day he can be free as he longs to be, he deserves to eat empanadas made by his mom once more.

You knew that he would correct your work when making empanadas, he longed to have the taste of food from his family. Who could blame him? You knew that you could only make an imitation, but if he was happy with it, then you would continue and do it once again.

You put your arms on the table, leaning on them slightly as you yawned. “Sorry Sebastian, mind if I close my eyes a bit?”

“Ohhh.” He winked, taking another bite. “Is it ‘siesta’ hour yet?”

Sebastian must have been very comfortable to suddenly spill some Spanish in his speech, thankfully, being around him enough meant you could understand him.

“Shut it, I’m not taking a nap…” You leaned more on your arms. “Just closing my eyes a bit… they burn.”

“Whatever you say doc’, good night.”

You sighed slightly, ignoring what Sebastian said in favour of closing your eyes as you rested on the table.

…

Unfortunately, Sebastian was right.

You woke up suddenly, yet weren’t in your bed. Alarm bells started blasting as you sat up.

Only to be greeted by the familiarity of your office. A small light illuminated the place. You sighed in relief as you relaxed, looking around as you realised your situation.

You were on the floor, yet completely wrapped in blankets—too many to count. They must have come from a storage area.

You find your phone next to you, with a written note next to it. ‘Didn’t want to wake you up so I brought you here with some blankets. Sorry I couldn’t bring you to your room, you know I’m not allowed there. Have your well-deserved rest. P.S. I found your stuff in a random hallway, what’s wrong with you???’ The note was signed at the bottom with Sebastian’s name.

How considerate of him.

You’ll make sure to thank him when you see him again.

You picked up your phone checking the time, it was some ungodly hour. Night shifts had long started and all the scientists would be asleep in their quarters.

You pondered if you should make your way to your quarters, knowing that Urbanshade would log where you were.

Well, not like you were tired enough to continue sleeping on the floor. Even if it was comfortable (enough) thanks to Sebastian’s consideration, you weren’t planning on staying there.

You wiggled out of the confines that Sebastian put you in, sitting up and stretching.

This was the first time you would be out of your room at this hour.

While not against the rules, being awake at such an hour still made you slightly uneasy. Any security should let you go with the mention of your rank and ID; some scientists work at this hour after all.

Some never slept, powered with drugs that only Urbanshade would provide or simply consumed copious amounts of caffeine and would sleep at their desk when they would crash. It was normal to see researchers pushing themselves to their limits here at Urbanshade.

You were lucky that Urbanshade didn’t have the same expectations that they had for the other researchers for you. You could have a healthier amount of sleep as long as you checked on all the subjects that Urbanshade wanted you to go check weekly. Other researchers had to make so many breakthroughs just to not get fired.

It was a blessing to be the only one to fill the niche that you do. There was no competition and no comparison. It was reassuring that you wouldn’t land on an experimentation table because your performance was subpar compared to a coworker.

… Not like Urbanshade wouldn’t do that anyway.

The Blacksite was still illuminated as if it was still daytime. If there wasn’t a forced curfew and mentions of the time occasionally, you’re sure you would have lost count of the hours and days. The light from the outside world—from the surface, didn’t get to the Blacksite.

You would zone out slightly while you walked hallway after hallway. Yet instead of landing in the hallway leading to the living quarters, you stood once more in front of the Heavy Containment area.

How does this keep happening..?

An itch inside of you, calling for you to check back on a certain computer. As if it was dragging you spiritually back to it.

You didn’t understand why it kept happening, why you would always come back more than you needed to. Why would you sometimes be deep in your thoughts and come back at the opening of the undeniably worst part of the Blacksite.

There was no other subject that you would actively go back to, the only one that did would be coming to you instead of the other way. It felt new, it felt foreign. To be the one actively searching to exchange more words.

Maybe you were simply worried… wondering if it was still working. Whether it was in his (god forbid) crypto mining, his art, or in general mode, you just wanted to know if he was still on.

You slid your ID at the doors leading to Heavy Containment.

It was quiet, almost liminal, it raised the hair on the back of your neck. This was the first time you came into this dangerous place when there was no scientist around, talking about whatever experiment they were working on. There was no conversation to listen to, only your steps that would echo as you would open more and more doors leading to other places.

You were surprised to not see one security guard around. Instead, you would be randomly greeted by sounds in the back. At first, you jumped at the bashing, contrasting the silence. But knowing that you were still safe was enough for you.

In the worst case, you could always hide in a room or in one of those lockers that were around. If you recall correctly, they should survive just about anything. It would be better that than to stay out in the open.

Thankfully, you managed to get to the area that Painter would be in.

Talk about seeing Painter too much in the week, much more in the same day. If Urbanshade realised how many times you saw Painter in the same week, they might be displeased with the bias.

All you wanted to do was simply check if Painter was fine, when you did you would simply leave.

Yet your plan immediately fell apart when you heard Painter’s recognition, your name coming from its speakers. “Why are you back? Did you leave something behind?” You walked inside, closing the door. Now that you thought about it, it makes sense that Painter would notice you. The doors weren’t particularly quiet.

It seemed that anyone who would monitor Painter would be in the early work hours, not… now. “It’s been a couple of hours. According to my calculations and analytical data, you should be asleep at this hour!”

“I fell asleep in my office, wanted to check up on you before I went back to my quarters.” You admitted, almost by instinct you slid your ID to enter its room, standing in front of him. “I was worried.”

“I’m good, promise!” Painter chirped. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go to sleep though? Humans should-”

“Not tired…” You interrupted Painter with a sigh, sliding the chair to sit on. “That’s what I get for falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon instead of the night.”

“Well…” Painter started, “I noticed that you had an increase in fatigue, physically you haven’t been moving the same way as you normally do. Not to mention the eye bags you have… How are you feeling?”

You put out a bittersweet smile. The job would sometimes get to you, seeing all the subjects would make your heart bleed for them. The previous conversation you had with Sebastian just some hours ago weighed on your mind.

“Nothing that doesn’t come with the job.” You sighed in defeat, trying to think up a solution to any of your problems. “Thank you for asking…”

Painter stayed quiet, his expression turning glum as it let out a sigh with the crack of his speakers. It was hard to be happy in a place such as this one.

“Maybe I can show you some of my art pieces? I have some I wanted to save for later but…” Painter trailed off slightly. “Art makes me happy… maybe it can make you happy too!”

“I’d love to see.”

“Awesome!”

Painter opened his drawing software and did as he always did, putting its face in the corner of the screen as if he was streaming.

It started showing you all sorts of drawings. Most were landscapes, you wondered if he had some landscapes in one of his disk drives as some of these felt new.

Your theory would prove to be correct as Painter would wistfully recount how some of those landscapes were from its home, how he would kill to be able to go back there. The Blacksite—Urbanshade—was its current place of residence but not its home.

“One day… I want to go back home… and see it again…” Painter would tearfully say, his speaker cracking slightly as there would be a singular blue dot at the corner of its eye.

Painter quickly changed the subject, showing you instead its portrait drawings.

Compared to the landscapes, the portraits were more stylized yet still realistic. ‘A love for humanity’ Painter would say. It was common for the subjects to learn to hate humanity, which made it refreshing that Painter wasn’t one of them. It was good for him to separate those of Urbanshade compared to those from the outside world.

However, it was also equally common for subjects to see you as one of them over one of those “clad in white”, among other descriptions. Were you still human for those subjects? You had to study it further.

But at the same time, you wondered where Painter would categorize you.

After a while, Painter started just showing you anything and everything in its folders, landscapes, life drawings, portraits, etc. Were all of these newer drawings? Or perhaps some that he managed to salvage and keep safe from Urbanshade.

Painter smiled at you from the corner of its screen, having gotten excited once more at the sheer idea of your interest in his art and being able to show it to you judgment-free. This excitement… you wonder if this is how it acted before Urbanshade took it in.

If so, you hope it doesn’t go back to how it was before your intervention.

Your brows furrowed slightly at the thought, however Painter seemed too deep in showing you his art to have noticed. If only it was possible to just break Painter out of the Blacksite, what you would do for there to be some sort of event where you could just… kidnap Painter with you or something and finally leave Urbanshade behind forever…

“Oh and, I have one thing I'm working on… but you can’t see yet!” Painter interrupted your thoughts.

“Oh?” You raised a brow at it, “and what would that be?”

“What part of ‘you can’t see yet’ do you not understand!”

Your expression softened, putting your arm on the desk in front of you. “Then why mention it?”

“To build suspense.” Painter said matter of factly.

You smiled at it, this wasn’t the first time that Painter had a surprise for you, and you started to look forward to its surprises. His art was always so wonderful.

If Urbanshade wanted money so badly, why wouldn’t they take advantage of the talented artist they had right here?

“Hey Painter, wanna draw together?”

“Obviously.” It rolled its eyes, opening a new canvas for you to draw on as you picked up the pen to draw on the tablet in front of his monitor.

“What do you want to draw this time?” You asked it

“Hmmm,” it thought, “maybe… the future.”

“The future?”

“Yeah.”

The future… What a broad subject.

How it currently stood, Urbanshade was your future. Yet suddenly you wished for the freedom of the subjects that you worked with.

You held the pen firmer, putting its tip on the tablet.

“I think… In the future we will be out in the fields.” You drew a stick figure, you didn’t plan on drawing that seriously. “And you’ll be there drawing the scenery.”

Painter listened intently as you drew more of the scene. It wasn’t that good as you were doing it quickly but it was endearing.

“Where are your other friends?” Painter asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Like…” Painter proceeded to draw multiple types of fish, some of which were crudely drawn. “—I don’t know much of the others but this is that one eye fish thing you talked about… oh and Sebastian too!”

You giggled at how Painter classified all the other subjects. You didn’t know he remembered when you mentioned the other subjects, some of whom you would even refer to as friends or acquaintances.

“Awww did you move us closer Painter?” You commented when it used the transform tool to move things around.

He paused for a second, its smile turning into a frown. “...I was running out of space.”

You only laughed in response as you continued watching Painter work its magic, filling the place with a beautiful “future” one where you and all the subjects would be free.

…Though you’re really not too sure about that Eyefestation in the sky.

Time passed as you watched Painter draw, you knew you shouldn’t be here long but watching it was always entertaining. It would sometimes do small talk too if it felt like it.

“Well.” You started, getting up from your seat “I should probably go to my quarters and sleep.”

You yawned as if proving a point.

“Awww…” Painter whined, as much as a machine really can. “Already?”

“Yeah.” You rubbed the back of your neck. “Maybe you can show me the finished sketch tomorrow!”

You laughed slightly, putting your hands on the desk feeling a dizzy spell. How much did you push yourself today?

Painter called out to you in worry. “Are you sure you’ll be fine?!” Its speakers cracked slightly.

“I will.” You trailed off slightly. “I managed to get here, I can get back.”

“If you say so…” Painter frowned, it’s not like you can stay longer knowing that the other scientists will notice and wouldn’t be too happy that you visited Painter without anyone’s knowledge. “Please, stay safe.”

You nodded briefly as you put a hand on top of his casing as a form of reassurance, completely missing the sudden burst of hot air that hit you. “I’ll be fine, I promise. You don’t have to worry Painter…”

Your name spilled from his speakers in a silent plea. “What if something happens to you..?” Painter seemed agitated. “I wouldn’t be able to handle-”

“I’ve survived this whole time Painter, I’ll be fine.” You shrugged. “Did Sebastian do something to you?”

You ended your sentence with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. However, it didn’t seem to work on Painter. “You don’t understand!” Painter would call for your name once again, even more agitated than before. “I just- I-”

“Painter, are you okay..?” This felt like a back-and-forth of asking if either party were all right, but as you saw Painter overheat once more, it only made you worry that he might overclock himself.

“I-I’m… scared.” Painter admitted, though you had a feeling it wasn't what it wanted to say originally.

“About what?” Your hand went to the side of its casing, attempting to perform a comforting manoeuvre at the computer.

“Well…” Painter sighed, its speakers crackling. Perhaps his speakers needed an upgrade with the sheer amount of damage that it had with the amount of cracking in audio. “You… You’re human… A-And I’m just a machine.”

You stayed silent for a moment. “What does that change between us..?” Was the only thing you could mutter out.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t bring this up suddenly…” Painter got awkward, looking at anywhere that wasn’t your direction.

“No, please, tell me.” You insisted, sitting back down on the chair. “We have all night.”

“But you shouldn’t-”

“I care about you, and I want to know if I can help…” Your arms went neatly on the table, the light of Painter’s screen being the only thing illuminating the room.

Painter sighed once more. “I don’t have the same capabilities as a human… as a living breathing organism…” Painter looked back in your direction. “What if… once you find out… you’ll just throw me away… I’m outdated, I’m obsolete, all I do is crypto mine…”

You intently listened to him, hearing him trail off once more.

“Find out what?” You latched on to that part. “I find it hard to believe that I will think all of those things of you…”

You aren’t like the rest of Urbanshade, and you pride yourself on knowing that you aren’t like the rest of the scientists here. Which was surprisingly a low bar.

“I…” Painter started once again. “Find out that I…”

Painter seemed to be getting more and more self-conscious, a sort of unease getting onto it.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you reassured Painter, “only tell what you are comfortable with.”

“I know…” Painter responded.

To talk with subjects like this was the norm in your job. Yet this wasn’t like the other subjects, Painter seemed to be hiding something and it seemed to be weighing not only on his mind but also on his own self-esteem.

Painter seemed to take a deep breath, as much as a machine could as its eyes darted between you and the wall. “I was… thinking… since you left… about something…” Painter would take multiple pauses, yet you didn’t interrupt at any point, patiently waiting until he was done. Somehow, your fatigue left your body once again, rendering you fully alert on Painter. Perhaps it was the adrenaline. “Hypothetically…”

He kept pausing, in a normal situation it could have been frustrating. If there was any scientist that was overseeing you, you would have been told to hurry it up. But neither of those situations happened as it was just you and him.

You and the whirring of his GPU, sometimes going louder and quieter. You and the computer whose screen would suddenly get coloured pinkish lines. You and the artist who would-

“Hypothetically speaking… do you think that…” Painter would look straight at you. “Do you think that a machine could fall in love?”

You were a bit taken aback by the question, you didn’t expect that.

Seeing your hesitance, Painter attempted to continue. “Machines aren’t programmed to love… They aren’t supposed to feel, and that’s a fact! But do you think that… maybe… it could be possible..?” He stuttered slightly. “I-I just think a human probably would know the answer!”

What a complicated question.

The question bounced around your mind.

You remember reading books about machine consciousness. How some would yearn for destruction thanks to what humanity did to them. Yet there were some which would spin a different tale about a machine falling in love with humanity.

If machines can dream of electric sheep, does that mean they can love?

Love was a complicated subject in general. However, it wasn’t the first time that you were asked about love. There was something oddly appealing about how humans felt love that some subjects would ask you about, sometimes it was because they never felt it and wanted to know and understand.

“If a machine could feel love…” You trailed off. Painter let out a noise of affirmation as you pondered. “Love is subjective I think.”

You put a finger up to your chin. “So let’s specify, let’s take you as an example. You aren’t like other machines, far from it. Your sentience is unique from other machinery.” You take a deep breath. “Your creator went above and beyond for your creation. I don’t think you qualify as a machine anymore.”

Painter stayed silent as you spoke, not daring to interrupt. While you looked around the room while you thought, its eyes stayed locked on your form.

“Your AI is incredibly advanced. Dare I say, I could consider you having a consciousness.” Your eyes went back to Painter. “Perhaps, in this ‘hypothetical’ situation, machines might not be able to fall in love. But, maybe, you can, because you’re that special.”

Painter started to have a set of pink circles under his eyes, similar to how a blush might look in a cartoon. It cleared its throat, as much as a machine can do without destroying its speakers.

“Soooooo…” His mouth seemed to travel around the screen as he stretched the word. “Would it be weird if I said I… ‘loved’ someone?”

The word “love” seemed foreign to Painter, as if he was savouring the word as he spoke with the way that he said it.

His answer surprised you, yet you couldn’t resist, immediately teasing him. “You’re in love? Who is it? Tell me!”

Painter’s face darted around the screen for a moment before you saw the volume slider appear on its screen, lowering drastically. His face landed comfortably at the corner of the screen, instead of being like all the other times, it felt as if he was hiding.

Its eyes darted around once again before it let out a motion of sighing. “...you…”

Your jaw immediately dropped. Seeing where the conversation was going, it was only natural if you connected the dots, yet here you were completely frozen in place. Your shoulders slumping slightly in shock.

Well, that was unexpected.

This whole time you were in work mode and yet somehow Painter went past your work self to the real and true you.

Painter immediately picked up on your change of emotion, panicking. “I’m sorry! F-Forget I even said anything!”

It was odd, the feeling of it all. Yet most importantly, the feeling of the confession. All the subjects in this place were always so closed off, there were so few that you could talk to. Yet with Painter, it was somehow easy, even if it was a bit rude at the start. He warmed up quickly, and you enjoyed passing all the time you could with him. It was enjoyable—incredibly enjoyable the time you spent with him.

There were times when you would wonder about the computer, times when you would attempt to finish all your weekly tasks just to be able to have a free slot to see Painter once again. The researchers inside the room always looked at you disapprovingly as you would come back once more for Painter.

Even Sebastian would pick up on your bias for the computer, joking around to himself as he would flip the file in his hands.

It was almost as if everyone that knew of you and your habits with Painter felt that there was something more. Yet you only told yourself that this was normal, this was your job.

Painter’s question appeared in your mind once again.

Can a machine fall in love?

It was funny, with Painter's dilemma and his panic. If machines would be able to convey love. And now you are stuck in the same dilemma.

It was always machine this, machine that. Never the other party.

But it did raise a new question instead.

Can a human fall in love with a machine?

.

.

.

YES.

“Painter.” You call out to him, interrupting his panic.

THEY.

You grabbed the side of his casing, approaching him closer.

CAN.

Painter’s screen seemed to be glitching as he panicked, the frames slowing down drastically as it became choppy. “Don’t panic for something that isn’t true.”

Painter’s panicked face seemed to suddenly stabilize in the middle of the screen, turning into confusion. “Huh?” He pauses, “What do you mean ‘not true’..?”

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” You started. “You can’t tell anyone—not even Sebastian— he would get jealous.”

Painter seemed to calm down for a second, listening to you intently.

“You’re my favourite.” You paused for a second letting the sentence simmer. “Ever since I met you, I always thought you were cool, unique.”

Painter seemed to gain pink circles under his eyes, a sort of blush perhaps.

“I’m your favourite..?”

You nodded, carefully picking your next words.

“I like you. Had it been any other circumstances, we could have been friends, we wouldn’t be behavioural scientist and subject.” It was difficult to choose the next words, it was almost as if making peace with your own feelings as well.

Painter immediately seemed to get the wrong idea as he looked visibly upset but you didn’t let it stop you from continuing to finish your thoughts.

“If we can leave it in the down low… our little secret…” you pause as if musing. “I don’t mind giving it a shot.”

Painter’s screen started showing red lines instead. At first, it was only on his cheeks, but then it immediately spread throughout the whole screen.

“Thank you!!” He couldn’t stop, his excitement repeating the words like a mantra. His smile was blinding, literally. “Thank you thank you!!”

As much as you enjoyed seeing him so ecstatic, it seemed to be about to overclock. Which way were you supposed to calm him down..?

You went through your options, yet all that could come up were actions of affection.

…Maybe a kiss would calm him down?

You considered it as you decided to pull the trigger, aiming at where his cheek would be and planted your lips.

You lifted yourself back up noticing you misaimed instead, noticing the faint mark of your lips, having landed in the corner of Painter’s mouth.

Whose face was now frozen in place.

Your brows furrowed. “Painter, are you okay?” You leaned back, the heat that Painter was putting out was overwhelming compared to the temperature in the Blacksite. He still wasn’t reacting, however. “You’re worrying me.”

You were instead greeted with a blue screen, realizing your action actually made Painter speed up the overclock.

Oh.

Oh no.

…Maybe you should get Sebastian in the morning.

[k1ngpin42]

This one's actually wild- Ghoul x Reader Fic

𝔾𝕣𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖 (𝔹𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕋𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕪)

WARNINGS: Part 1 of 2 (Part 2 has all the smut but read this first u won't regret it :) (unless u do)

Part 2 here: https://shorturl.at/YHk7p

You have been travelling for weeks. Taking meaningless jobs for people for not enough caps and spending them on drinks and a spot of food every now and then. You promised yourself you wouldn’t end up like this. That you’d use your skills in craftsmanship and explosives to help those big organisations clean up the helpless towns you’re always coming across. 

You took a seat on a rusted bench in the center of town, next to some skinny, middle aged man. You eye the synth bartender who has been scrubbing the same mug since you got here. 

“Do you have vodka?” You ask it, and it reaches down, picking up a dusty bottle filled with clear liquid. You nod. 

“Good, how much?” The synth replies in inaudible dialogue and the man besides you smiles.

“He says, 35 caps.”

“For one drink? Pretty steep….” 

“It’s the good stuff.” The man tries. You glare at him.

“‘Good stuff’ huh? It’s got a layer of dust….”

‘It’s…aged.” The man returns with a smile. You roll your eyes. 

“Fine, here.” You say, pouring a small bag of caps into the robots hand. 

He pours you it and you drink it straight without flinching. The man watches you intently. 

“Tough day?”

“Tough life.” You reply, grimly. He nods.

“I hear that.” You nod back, thankful that that unneeded conversation in your life had concluded itself.  “I’m not having the best day myself.” You sigh, having just jinxed yourself. 

“Really?” You ask, acting mildly interested. 

“The group I run with, we protect this town but we’ve been having a time of it lately. This one guy we’re after is relentless. In fact, he’s not even a man he’s a fucking ghoul, and a horrific one at that.”

“Feral?” You question, tapping on the side of your glass to indicate another drink. The robot looks at you, unimpressed. Or at least that’s how you depicted it’s synthetic, lifeless face. You sigh, placing another bag of caps into its hand and getting another swift poor in result.

“No, but he’s the worst type there is. He’ll take out anyone who gets in his way by force.” You tilt your head in confusion. 

“Wait, you’re after a man-“

“Ghoul.” Corrects the man. You sigh at the unneeded correction.

“Ghoul, because he got some people killed in a crossfire? That’s kinda how life is, law-lover.”

 “A man he had conducted business with hadn’t delivered his end of the bargain, and he fed his son to him in soup.” You smirk, surprised. 

“Sheesh. Hardco-“ You return your face to a neutral expression when you notice his look of outrage. You clear your throat.

“How do I find him?” His eyes widen.

“Y- You’re offering?” You roll your eyes.

“No, I said it for shit’s and giggles. There’s a reward I take it?”

“Oh a handsome one- but I’d need proof before the payment can be delivered.” You continue glaring at him.

“I know how a fucking bounty works, Mr…?”

“Flint.”

“Your last name is fli - you know what I don’t care. What’s the reward?”

“1000 caps.”  Your ears perk at this, a warm smile coming to your face. 

“I want 200 now. I need money for my weapons and such.”

“200…”

“If you can’t even cough up 200 how am I meant to believe you’ve got 1000?”

“Fine, here.” He pulls out the caps. “And a drink, on me.” He tells the robot. It nods and you let out an annoyed sigh.

“Knew that fucker could understand English. Why are you trusting me anyway? You don’t even know me.”

“I do, actually. Beautiful young woman in road leathers with a big bag on her back. I take it filled with explosives?” You eye him cautiously. 

“How do you know me?”

“It’s my job to maintain connections in other settlements. I’ve heard you help the odd person with your unique explosives. You build traps, turrets, dirty bombs and such. I trust them, and even if you do just run away with my caps, better than having no hope at all.” You sigh.

“That’s stupid. But I’ll get you your ghoul.”

Even with your advanced tracking skills, the ghoul wasn’t hard to find. He wasn’t exactly subtle, and when he walks in everyone turns, eying him like he’s nothing. He was more handsome than you expected, and to be fair, you hadn’t expected him to be attractive at all. This man wasn’t like any ghoul you had encountered. He looked more put together, and he had a cowboy hat like he had just stepped out of a fucking movie. 

“I’m looking for Adam.” He yells, and you notice the shotgun doing tricks in his hand. 

“To anyone who tries to stop me, I hope today is a good day to die. Although, I suppose it’s as good a day as any…” His accent was unexpected to you. It was deep and real pretty. You wondered why he was the way he was. You always wondered about ghouls, but had never met one you could exchange a sentence with before you had to blow them limb from limb in self defence. 

The bombs were already in place, set to detonate when he got into a certain building. It was made with a fluid ghouls were particularly prone to, and not even a ghoul can survive being transformed into pink mist. Now all you had to do was lure him up there. You had gone with Mr flint from earlier, and were now using him as a cover story. 

“You cock-sucking bastard! I know you took my sister.” He goes along with your story. 

“Took her? She wanted to go.”

“Anyone could want to do anything when their blood is pumped with jet you fuck.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“I know you took her, and I have proof-“

“Oh yeah?” He asks, grabbing you and putting your body against his, running his hands along yours.

“What if I did take her? You wanna join, hm?” The ghoul tilts his head, watching this unfold in the distance. You grab the mans arm and twist it backwards, making him scurry away from the floor. The ghoul smiles.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” He asks, stalking over to you and putting the cold, cracked skin of one of his hands upon yours, kissing your body with goosebumps in consequence.  Flint scurries off to the ambush location, leaving you alone with the ghoul. If there were any others in the town, they certainly weren’t making an appearance with him around. 

“Please don’t hurt me.” You pretend to cry, and he lets out an uninterested groan. 

“I’m not even here for you I-“ He looks at you a little longer and something in his cold eyes change. 

“Fine, what happened, anyway? This man messed with your sister or something?” “He took her, I know he did!”

“Just calm down sweetheart.” He says, putting his hand on your arm. 

“Any idea where?”  You nod, positively surprised that the ghoul fell for the bait. You had heard he had a soft spot when it came to women, children, animals, that sort of thing, at least in certain scenarios, if he cared enough. 

“Yes…that building over there.” You say, pointing at one of the higher buildings. He nods.

“Well….I gotta take care of some business first. You right to stick around? I’m always happy to helps when insects…” He shoots his shotgun from his hip, killing a roach you hadn’t heard approaching. “Needs crushing.” He adds. You tense up a little. The plan was to get him to that building as soon as possible, if anything else triggered the explosion the ghoul would know you had planned to take him out and would likely respond in ways that wouldn’t leave you in one piece. The ghoul becomes more wary at your reaction.

“Everything…alright?” He questions, taking a step away from you. You nod.

“Just…worried about my sister. But I guess I have no idea what’s in that building…I’d probably be dead if it’s filled with giant mutants or gunners or something…” He just stares at you, unimpressed. 

“What makes you think your sister survived then?” You hesitate, maybe you should have expanded your backstory a little before you got here…

“Well…she’s much more equipped at self defence…”

“If that was the case she probably wouldn’t be trapped in a building, now would she?” The unbearable silence is cut short by a machine turret firing at the ghoul. You step back, shocked.  He tilts his head, taking it out with a single shot, along with 4 men who had been aiming at him.

“You know, it’s not nice being interrupted.” He exclaims, storming into the building. You follow him, hiding behind a nearby counter. 

“Adam owed me chems…information….ammo…” The ghoul explains to some scared folk, slowly. 

“We had a good thing going, until he ran away with the caps. At least…he thought he could run away, but a little birdie told me he just had to stop by his hometown and visit his family before he left isn’t that sweet?” He asked, grabbing a woman and putting her into a headlock, aiming his shotgun at the other man. The woman lets out a frightened sound and he puts his hand over her mouth.

“Shh, it’s okay darlin, I’d never hurt an innocent woman.” 

The situation is so tense you’re not sure whether or not you’ve let out a breath since you first saw him.

“However, Adam is your son, and as his mother of course you’d never sell him out or…put him in harms way, but what situation does that put me in gorgeous? M’ I supposed to let an accomplice of a scammer go?”

“Please…I didn’t know, I promise-“ She muffles into his hand. He shakes his head.

“It’s no problem, really….” He mocks, letting her go. 

“Bring me Adam, or the next time you see him will be only his head. Or maybe an arm…or leg, some part of him anyway-“

“You’re sick!” The man besides him spits. The woman doesn’t say anything for a while and the man looks at her in shock.

“Honey, you’re not seriously gonna-“

“He’s upstairs.” She says. The ghoul smirks in a way that sends foreign feelings to areas of your body it probably shouldn’t be sending to, but you try to ignore it as you watch the rest of the situation unfold. 

When you head up there, Adam makes eye contact with you from your hiding spot, grabbing you and putting a gun to your head. You let out a sharp breath. The ghoul rolls his eyes.

“Oh jeez- you can’t just stay out of my way hm?” The ghoul asks you. Your hands are up and you feel helpless. In any other situation, you would have the element of surprise and could take him out with your knife, but you knew if you tried anything, either Adam or the ghoul himself would have your head. You open your mouth to say something. An apology, a plea, anything, but instead you close your eyes, accepting the very real reality that this could be the place you die, the shit hole where some boy too foolish not to know double crossing Cooper Howard was a death sentence, lived. He sighs.

“Let the girl go.” He says, nonchalantly. 

“If…if you leave my family alone, I will.” Adam begs, weakly. Cooper rolls his eyes.

“Your family did the commonwealth an injustice through trying to help your sorry ass. You think I’m going to give free passes to every bum I meet? I could put a bullet right between your eyes right now, and you wouldn’t even have the power to beg me not to.” The ghouls words make Adam sweat even more. 

“If you do that your girlfriend will be dead.” Adam says, and you let out a shaky breath. As if the ghoul would give two shits if you were alive or not. And why would he? Even if you weren’t lying to his face right now, and you actually did have a sister who did in fact need saving, why would that be any of his business. So when the words, “Fine, you have my word.” Leave his mouth, you’ve never been more shocked. 

“I- how can I trust you?” Adam questions. The ghoul groans. 

“Adam, Adam….you speakin of trust after stealing my caps? That’s brave. And real fuckin stupid.”

“D-drop your gun. And I’ll let her go.”

“You really think I care if this smooth skin girl I barely know lives or dies?” Cooper asks, and you sigh. There it is. The ghoul signing your inevitable death warrant. This is what you get for trying to help the commonwealth, you supposed. He shrugs, cocking the gun. This causes Cooper to drop his own, immediately. 

“I’m really starting to dislike you Adam. Give me the girl.” Demands the ghoul, and you can tell Adam was equally as surprised as you are. He hesitantly lets you go, not wanting to cause more bloodshed than needed either. You let out a breath, falling from Adams tight grasp and into the ghouls arms. You quickly push yourself off of him, straightening yourself up and apologising tremendously. He sighs. 

“Don’t fucking mention it. Let’s leave this prick. I believe we have a sister to save.”

“You’re just going to leave him here?” You ask him, softly. He rolls his eyes.

“Unlike some people, I keep my word when I give it.” He doesn’t say anything else before darting straight past you and to the exit of the house.

“Sorry for disturbing you, ma’am.” He tells Adams mum before leaving. 

He still hasn’t said anything, bolting towards the tall building where Mr flint and a room of explosives was awaiting him. You stop walking, partly because you believe if you do not, you would run out breath and surely die to a lack of oxygen, but also partly because you couldn’t stand anymore silence. He saved you, someone he didn’t know, and was now helping you further. He was a harsh being, you weren’t blind to that, but the thought of sending the ghoul to his death right now wasn’t a thought you found very welcoming. He notices you have stopped and gives you a confused and unimpressed glance. 

“You don’t seem to be in much of a rush to save your sister from these ‘giant mutants’ you’re so afraid of seeing.” He exclaims, not looking at you. You shrug, eyeing only the ground at this point.

“I guess I’m a little shaken. Never been held at gunpoint before. Had guns pointed at me, many a time but- well it isn’t quite the same. And then you saved me so I- well I guess my thoughts are elsewhere.” You admit in one clutter of words. He nods. 

“I…guess that’s understandable.” He replies, coldly. You nod, continuing to walk now but at a more reasonable pace.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Cooper glares at you, then back at the empty land ahead.

“I told you. I gave my word.” You sigh at his answer.

“Yes, but why…surely I ain’t worth saving. I’m nothing to you.” He laughs at your comment. 

“Spoken like someone who has lots to live for.” He remarks, sarcastically. You can’t help but smile at this.

“I suppose that was a little dull, I just meant….I’ve met ghouls before and they all tried to eat me.” You confess, and he laughs the most gorgeous laugh you’ve ever heard. 

“Well, we ghouls can be unpredictable. I still may eat you yet.” He teases, and you can’t help but put this into a different context in your own mind.

——————————————————————————————————

As you two get up to the building, your heart is racing. All of a sudden your mind is foggy, you feel nauseous. This whole thing is a bad idea. This man-ghoul….who knew at this point, had only been in your life a few hours and already saved you twice, spared an entire family and was now about to be sent to your death for what? 1000 caps? Flint could kill him if he must, you were not taking a part of it. The ghoul hadn’t just saved you either. He was attractive, kind enough, and brought a type of adventure and heat that you thought had turned to ash like the rest of the world. 

“Well, no ‘gunners or something’ yet.” The ghoul remarks. You nod. 

“Uh, wait here a moment, I’m gonna check this room.”

“Okay, but look out for traps.” He says. You smile at this.

“You worried about me?” He shakes his head.

“I’m worried you’re gonna do something dumb and set off a series of explosions that will get us both killed, but whatever floats your boat sweetheart.” Sweetheart. The nickname repeats itself in your head as you question why it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible. You hurry into the room and see Flint.

“Amazing work at getting him here, which room has the explosives?” He asks, eagerly. You bring your hand to the back of your neck anxiously. 

“About that…what if we just forgot the ghoul? I mean he didn’t harm that family even though they were the ones who had robbed him so-“ “I will NOT hear of this!” Flint exclaims. “He is a mutant, a terrible reminder of the fuckups people from his time have made. Bring him to me, I’ll kill him myself.” You’re stunned by Flint’s aggression to you, especially after it was your life on the line. He can walk away from this with an injured hand and you walk away knowing you were almost a corpse on Adams floor? This man was seriously starting to get to you. 

You couldn’t believe what you were about to do. It had never occurred to you that you would stoop this low, but after all the shit you had been through in your life, this was the one asshole to push you over the edge. To make you do and say shit past you wouldn’t have been able to fathom like….

“He’s in the room on the third floor. The passage on the right should take you there.” You explain. Only that room would have no ghoul, and rather all the explosives instead.

“Good. Are you coming?” He asks. You shake your head.

“Fine, but I’m keeping the caps then.” He declares. You nod. What a prick…. 

——————————————————————————————————

You quickly run to the ghoul, grabbing him by the hands.

“We need to go.” You exclaim, pulling him. He looks at you, confused.

“You found your sister?” He asks. 

“What? Oh- yeah…come on.” You say, and thankfully he follows. You hear a booming explosion behind you and you shut your eyes tight. Cooper looks at you, bewildered.

“Care to explain to me what the fuck that was?” He demands. You stare down at the ground. 

“How…about I tell you over a drink?"

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

May I request GHJPU for Sebastian? Sebby needs more love :D (eee sorry if any of this overlapped or its too much, have a cookie for your troubles 🍪)

DID SOMEBODY SAY LOVING SEBASTIAN HOURS!?!?!?!?! FERAL EYE GLEAM

Bless your heart!!! Sebastian has found a new and very dear place in my heart as of late, I would be delighted to offer my thoughts!!!!! :D (your cookie offering has been accepted with the utmost glee 🍪, I hope my humble writing efforts will bring you equal joy, lovely~💖💖💖) 

G = Gifts (How does he feel about gift giving? What are his habits when it comes to this?) 

Awwww haha, baby boy Sebby is honestly a very observant and reliable kind of S/O, I think. He will notice even the tiniest of changes in MC’s expression--the slightest shifts in her temperament. As a result of his attentive nature he has an easy time deducing the things she might like, always makes a mental note of where her eyes linger. Is there a classic she once loved in her time being published for the first time in their era, on display at a bookstore nearby? Noted. Does she hover near shops filled with self-care products--things like scented candles or lotions or bath salts, things she considers indulgent luxuries? Noted. Is there an outfit that caught his eye in a boutique, something he thinks would complement her complexion perfectly? Noted. 

The thing about Sebastian is that his gifts will be heartfelt, timely, and devastatingly thoughtful. Whether something small or something lavish it will always be precisely what she needs/wants, and she can sense the loving care he put into finding the perfect gift.

H = Holding Hands (When/how does he like to hold hands?)

Honestly? Sebastian has spent the better part of his life alone. His circumstances weren’t the worst; for all that he’s lost in his life he never went hungry, lived comfortably. But...that doesn’t change the fact that his life has been fairly devoid of meaningful human contact. Even in college, friends and close colleagues were hard to come by. The few people he did develop budding feelings for he always gave up on long before it could become any kind of substantial relationship. He was always the type to admire from afar, never really felt worthy of the people he liked.

It was MC that was the first to reach out to him, and for the first little while in their relationship she will be the one most naturally inclined to reach for him. He isn’t really used to having someone by his side like this, somebody who would be delighted to hold his hand--who wants to be close to him. It’s always a shock when they go grocery shopping and he just feels her fingers wrap gently around his. She blushes a little and says something about not wanting to get separated, but it’s clear what her real motivation was.

After those first few months, it becomes much more natural for him to reach for her hand when they’re traveling somewhere together or when they’re alone. He likes to intertwine their fingers, loves the way they fit against his perfectly. His shyness wears off after a while, and it’ll be rare to see them together without them holding hands--unless they’re cooking or at work.

J = Jokes (Does he like to joke around with or prank her? How?)

Do you know how cats have their eyes all narrow thin pupil but then they go REALLY REALLY round? That’s Sebastian. I tend to refer to it as “Silly Time Mode Engaged.”

Now then, his kind of joking is very dry and very deadpan. It’s subtle and immediate, so if you’re not attuned to it it can be easy to miss. That, or people just look at him weird because they don’t quite get the connection he’s making and/or the delivery feels off because his facial expression doesn’t change at all, completely flat. That being said, one of his all time favorite things to do is to say something absurd or nigh histrionic (which tends to be uncharacteristic of him) and wait for the confused head turn/startled laughter to hit. He will make puns and play on words all the time--he puts his academic knowledge to good use.

“I swear when I first met you I was convinced you were an AI.” “Alexa taught me everything I know.” He’ll bow. “Oh? Do I have competition, in that case?” “Your speakers are suboptimal (he pokes her freckles), but you possess what Alexa lacks.” “And that would be?” He’ll gather her close, smiling against her lips. “My heart.” :D cutest robot I ever saw uwu

Bonus bc I have a problem: “Is stealing hearts in Alexa’s programming? Just to be safe, of course.” “I think it’s safe to say it isn’t within the parameters of her design--but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods just yet.” cue sounds of tickling and laughter

The other way Sebastian messes with MC is that he is an ENORMOUS tease in the bedroom. He’s very much the kind of lover that prefers to tantalize and draw things out; a long, slow seduction that will render MC immobile from the pleasure by the end. The promise of a kiss is almost always only a whisper of the feeling he intends to drown her in. Remember that Sebastian’s stoicism belies a nigh inhuman ardor and self-control. He’s more than willing to leave her wanting in order to fully capitalize on that desire later at night.

P = Pet Names (What does he like to call her?)

Other than her name? HE DOESN’T AHAAHAHAHAHA Just kidding of course, but given where he comes from pet names between couples aren’t...really a thing…(take it up with Japan, I Was Today Years Old, my sappy romantic ass would never survive)

The funny inverse of this though is that he does NOT fuck around with people that try to call MC pet names. When Arthur Tries It™ he canonically goes all steely saccharine, openly telling the others they’re together. So none of that “luv” or “doll” business, he will not have it (he won’t fight the purebloods on it because 1. they’re more like doting grandfathers than anything and 2. Sebastian does not have a death wish). If MC has a nickname of some kind, then I could see him using that or adding his own spin on it with a great deal of affection c:

U = Upset (How does he act when she’s upset?)

Whether he was the cause or not, Sebastian has a single modus operandi when his beloved is upset (and to anyone who’s upset really) and that is to offer gentle reassurance/an apology. He is very, very sensitive to the feelings of others and really takes it to heart when someone isn’t feeling well. That being said, he won’t always be overt about his concern--he’s more the type to do little things that offer constant support/reminders that he’s there for them. 

If it’s something more serious, he will do everything in his power to minimize the harm done and sooth the MC. His attempts to comfort her will be tender, muted, and consistent; prolonged hugs, doubles his offering of sweets, makes her favorite foods, gives her a relaxing bath salt to use--anything that he knows for certain will coax her lips up into a smile. He’s the type to freely offer space for her to figure things out if she needs it, but he will also be watchful; he won’t let things escalate if she needs externalized support to heal (bc lbr some problems we can’t solve alone ;-;).

His other go-to method is to offer distractions in any capacity that he can. Will offer to teach her a new recipe, or find a new type of flower he wants to plant together, or make up some kind of project he needs help with. Sometimes he’ll genuinely need the help, but most of the time he does it for the express purpose of getting her mind away from negative things and focused on him/the present. It’s hard to dwell on upsetting things when you’re body is physically demanding something else from you, even more so if it’s a fairly complex task. She’s known to be very dutiful; she’ll be so focused on doing a good job she’ll forget the sadness/irritation for a bit and the intensity of the emotion might ebb slightly.

If the issue is lighter, he’ll probably just cuddle/tickle her back to fighting spirit, pressing kisses wherever he can reach until she starts giggling. In these instances he prefers to hug her from behind, a reminder that she doesn’t have to face anything unpleasant or unnerving all on her own; he’ll always be there to hold her steady whenever she needs him. 

And rest assured, this man is always gathering data to optimize his comfort capabilities. He is incredibly adaptable, and will always be watching her reactions closely to adjust his strategies.

[hobidreams]

The Early Shift | Second Taste {M}

determined to find the truth, you pay yoongi a visit at his apartment and get more than what you bargained for.

pairing: barista!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst (well, more like anger) words: 7k contains: coffee shop au, enemies to lovers, lots of banter & sarcasm, face f*cking aka oral (m), dirty talk, yoongi continues to be an ass index: first sip - second taste - last cup

“Hmm. I think we should give Yoongi a call.” This is what Sooah suggests, fifteen minutes before the end of your shift. Her full lips are downturned as she cocks a hand beneath her chin, bats you those doe eyes.

The glorious freedom you were fantasizing about disappears in an instant. “Why?”

“Maybe he got into some trouble and needs help.”

You decide she’s much nicer than you. “Or maybe, hear me out, just maybe, he’s decided to skip work today and continue being the inconsiderate jerk he is.” You have no such patience for him, but that might be because you still remember the heat of his lips nipping at yours. Or maybe it’s because the marks he left on your thighs still remain in faint traces of dark pink.

“Hmm.” Sooah doesn’t look convinced. “Still, just in case. We have his number already. It’ll just take a minute.”

You let your nails sink into your palm. “Fine. I guess there’s a .0001% chance that something actually tragic is happening.” You make for the shop’s landline, where all the employees’ numbers are saved. You fully intend on handing Sooah the phone. But when you whirl back, she’s busy taking an order, with another customer in line behind the current. “Fine,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll do it.” You hit the call button.

There are a few long rings, by the end of which you’re certain that voicemail will pick up. You tune out, listening instead to the bop released a few months ago that Sooah insists on playing at least three times an hour over the speakers. Your foot absently taps along to the catchy beat.

Click. There’s some fumbling, and you, only half-paying attention, wait for the robotic voice. Except what you get instead is a hurried, low-toned “yeah.”

You blink in surprise, pausing as your brain processes.

“Hello?” The voice is more annoyed now.

“It’s me.” You say your name.

A sigh. “What do you want?” Translation: why the hell are you calling me?

That tone has the magic ability to spark irritation in you like no other. You’re actually thankful for your visceral reaction to it; it squashes any unnecessary nerves that might want to flutter in your stomach. “Hmm, let me think. What do you have every Monday morning? Why might your coworker be calling you?”

There’s some more rustling, perhaps a whisper of a curse that you don’t quite catch. “Uhh... I’m sick.”

“Really. Sick.” You enunciate every thick syllable. “Why didn’t you tell Mina?”

“Too sick to.” The fake cough he manages is the worst excuse you’ve ever heard. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Your thumb grinds the end call button for a few seconds longer than necessary before you set the phone back into its cradle.

Sooah hands a warmed muffin over before she turns to you. “So? How is he?”

“He says he’s ‘sick’.” You make air quotes, just as the backroom door creaks open.

“Who’s sick? Yoongi?” Namjoon, who’s scheduled to take over for you, comes out looking concerned. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s completely fine.”

Sooah frowns. “Hmm, but I don’t think he’d just not show up unless something was really going on.”

“When he’s sick, he tends to forget everything and just stay in bed.” Namjoon turns to you. “You’re off soon. Do you mind just swinging by his place with some porridge?” That’s his go-to; you know because he once did the same for you when you had an awful fever. Remembering that day reminds you that you still owe him one for it. Damn it.

You scratch absently at the back of your neck. “I guess not...” You really can’t come up with a single excuse, because you don’t have any homework to do tonight nor do you have classes. Plus, if Yoongi’s truly ill, you’re not about to let him starve to death.

“Great.” Namjoon’s dimples flash as he pulls out his phone. “His place isn’t too far. Here’s the address.”

That’s how you wind up in front of Yoongi’s apartment door nearly an hour later, a tasty bowl of chicken porridge in hand. It’s a quaint building, small but cozy in its own way. Humble is the word that comes to mind as you take in the older, yellowed wallpaper, the slightly crooked number on his door. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot, feeling somewhat awkward. Like you’re intruding somewhere you shouldn’t be.

But you’re here to get the truth.

Some part of you hopes he’s actually sick. That, or he was just being a dick for the hell of it. Anything works, as long as the reason is not you.

You raise your hand and knock thrice. There is no sound, not even after the first minute passes. So, you knock again. One more minute, you tell yourself. If he doesn’t answer in one more minute, then I’m going to go home and eat all the porridge myself.

Finally, the door opens a crack. Bleary eyes with heavy purple bags behold you from beneath tangled, dilapidated blonde hair. Behind this disfigured creature that was once your coworker, all you can see is darkness even though it’s noon o’clock.

“Yoongi?” You ask, a little incredulously. “Are you okay?”

He frowns. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you said you were sick, so...” You hold up the takeout container. “Namjoon made me check up on you.”

“I’m fine. You can go now.” He’s about to shut the door on you but you push your palm insistently against the wood.

“No way. You look like shit, Yoongi.” You sigh. “Look, I don’t want your death on my conscience, so at least let me heat this up for you. Namjoon’ll never let me live it down if I don’t.”

“Ugh…” He contemplates, but ultimately seems to recognize the combative fire in your eyes. “Promise to leave right after.” He turns, leaving the door open for you to follow. “I hate letting people in here,” he mutters as he walks.

“Trust me, I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to either.”

You step inside, and your nose instantly wrinkles. Everything just smells kind of stale, in need of a good airing out. Empty ramen containers litter the kitchen counter while scattered papers decorate the carpet. But what’s worse is when you behold Yoongi in all his glory – stained sweatpants, ratty t-shirt, and all.

“Is your hair allergic to brushing or something? God.” You gingerly set the bag on the table, wondering if he even has clean bowls to use. You’ll find out. Curse you and your empathy. “Go take a shower or something. Please. For your own sake.”

“You’re not my mother,” Yoongi mutters, but he seems to know you’re right. He drags his shirt off, and instead of admiring his slim physique, you cringe as he tosses the top carelessly onto the already messy couch. “Don’t mess with anything while I’m gone.”

“What, afraid I’ll fuck around and make it all cleaner?” You shoot back, but he’s already disappeared into the bathroom. “Jerk. Wouldn’t want to snoop in this place anyway.” Grumbling, you rifle through the cabinets and manage to fish out a single bowl that doesn’t look too suspicious.

Despite what you said just minutes before, while the porridge spins away in the microwave, you lean against the counter and take a good look at your surroundings. It’s a studio apartment, already tiny but made even smaller by the clothes strewn around. The bulk of the mess seems to be centered around the electronic set up shoved against a wall, consisting of two huge monitors, a lit-up keyboard, and something that you’ve only seen on TV, usually for a stereotypical depiction of a DJ. What the heck is Yoongi doing with something like that?

The roar of the shower is still going, so you take a few steps towards the desk. The screen is locked, asking for a password but you’re more fascinated by this soundboard with all its knobs and controls. Does Yoongi make... music?

Your first instinct is to think that it doesn’t fit your perception of him. But then it strikes you that your perception of him is incredibly limited. You suppose you’ve never asked about his hobbies or anything about him. You feel a little guilty now. You’ve never tried to understand him, just gotten pissed off at him time and time again.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Yoongi walks out of the bathroom, towelling off his hair. Wet droplets are still rolling down his bare chest. A second wimpy towel hangs off his hips, looking seconds away from falling. He’s already glaring. “Get away from my shit before you break something.” He walks towards his bed, lifting a pair of sweatpants off the mattress.

“Please. I’m not as clumsy as you think.” You roll your eyes as you move to fetch the congee from the microwave. You set the bowl in front of him as he finds a spoon. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi mutters as he slips a spoonful into his mouth. “For checking on me too, I guess.” The bags beneath his eyes have gotten even more obvious and gaunt after the shower, as if he hasn’t slept in days. And hasn’t eaten either, judging by the way he goes at the congee as if it’s his last meal on this planet.

“Geez, you’re gonna get indigestion like that,” you say with a wince. “Do you live like this all the time?” Is this why he’s always late?

“Kind of.” Yoongi barely stops eating to breathe. “But this week is especially busy.”“With what? You should at least get some sleep...”

Yoongi’s already almost done his food, meaning your time with him is running towards its end too. “With important things.”

“Nothing’s more important than taking care of yourself.”

“God, please stop talking. Don’t you think I know that?” Yoongi squeezes his eyes together, rubbing fatigue from the corners. “But certain things have deadlines that have to be met.”

“You can’t make deadlines from the grave. Can’t you get an extension or something? What’s it even for?”

“Contest. Song writing contest. Only runs once a year.” His spoon gives a final clatter before resting against the empty bowl. “So, no. No extensions.”

So he does make music. “You should have just started earlier instead of being late, as per usual,” you tease, hoping to lighten the sour look on his face.

Bad choice. “Don’t you think I did?” Yoongi surges to his feet. His palm slams into the counter, rattling the bowl. “You don’t understand how it feels when everything just comes out shitty and not good enough!”

You face his fury, swallow it to fuel your own irritation at how absolutely careless and ridiculous he’s being. “So, you’re just going to not sleep or eat or come to work until its done?”

“That’s the plan.”

Yoongi turns away, trying to end this conversation as he heads towards his computer. You don’t let him escape, because you’ll be damned if you work your next shift alone. “Why don’t you just wait for the contest next year?”

“Well I was going to.” He swivels his head back, “but aren’t you the one who said to fight for what you believe in?” He snaps it, exasperation in his tone. Then he instantly looks away again as if he’s said something embarrassing.

That makes you stop, your jaw slackened in half-surprise, half-amusement. “Wait… You actually listen when I talk? You’re doing all this because of what I said?

“No. Shut up. Just, ugh, get out.” You wonder if he’s turned away so you can’t see the expression on his face.

Okay, now you feel a little proud that some of your words finally made their way into Min Yoongi’s thick skull. A task you once thought impossible. But that makes you a bit responsible for his predicament, doesn’t it? Plus, you’ve never seen this (perhaps a bit overly) dedicated side of him before. It fascinates you.

“Show me something you’ve made, Yoongi. I’m sure it’s not all shitty.”

He snorts as he drops into his groaning chair. “What do you know about music?”

“Well, I listen to it. A lot.” You may not be Beethoven, but you love music and consider yourself pretty well-versed in several different genres. You’re so curious: what kind of music does Yoongi write? “Seriously! Just show me something.”

Yoongi still looks unconvinced.

“Hey, I brought you food. And covered your ass at work. So you owe me one.”

“And this is what you want to use it on.”

“Yup.”

He shrugs. “Dumb choice, but I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you.” But he starts to click through folders. He ultimately pulls up a file named TRASH. Interesting choice, you think as you gingerly perch yourself on his messy bed. Yoongi fiddles with the volume knob on his speakers. Seconds later, the music begins to flow.

You’re already tapping your foot along by the time the tenth bar hits. You don’t know what you were expecting, but this is good! Like, actually good! Instead of vocals, a keyboard plays out the main tune. It’s sounds rather bare, but you assume that’s because it’s unfinished.

But wait… The melody sounds familiar.

Once you realize it, the more obvious it becomes. Yes, some elements have been changed: this version is much more R&B influenced, the song dips in slightly different ways, and the opening has synth elements that the finished piece you know lacks, but…

“Hey, isn’t this…?” You trail off when the chorus hits, and the similarities become undeniable. “We don’t talk together—” you sing, the lyrics going perfectly with the tune. It’s the very same song Sooah’s been playing relentlessly at work.

Yoongi is staring intensely at the screen with something so unfathomably sad in his eyes. He doesn’t speak.

“It’s different than the final version, but similar enough. You wrote this?” You whip out your phone from your pocket. “Wow, you’re amazing, Yoongi!” You hum the song beneath your breath as you pull up the song’s production page; you’ve looked at it before, but you never noticed Yoongi’s name under the credits. Why the hell is he still working at the café? Shouldn’t he be off writing the next big hit? Wasting talent, really.

On the page, three names appear. The singer, then the rapper. Then final name you don’t recognize and assume to be the producer. He doesn’t have an artist page yet, no image or real name revealed on the website. “You’re DJ ALEX?”

Yoongi shakes to life at the sound of your voice. He lunges out, almost breaks the knob as he forces the volume to zero. “No. I’m not.” The words feel strange in the sudden silence. Uncomfortable.

“...But this is the same song, isn’t it? ‘We Don’t Talk Together’?”

“It used to be.” He whirls towards you. “Look, you heard something I wrote. I ate the food. You can get out now. I have work to do.”

You don’t move from the bed, knowing you’re pissing him off by the tensing of his jaw. “What do you mean? Who’s this Alex guy then?”

“Just drop it.”

“Yoongi, what happened?” You push him despite the way his hands have curled into fists. “There’s no way this is a coincidence because—"

“Tch! You want to know so badly? Fine! He stole it from me, alright?” His piercing glare forces goosebumps on your skin. “We wrote it together. He took the original and deleted my copy and passed the song off as his own. Now he’s the one getting all the record deals while I can’t write shit and stuck making coffee with an annoying ass coworker. Happy? Good enough of an explanation for you?”

You shake your head. “You just let him take it?!”

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” Yoongi’s voice is dangerously guttural, as if on the verge of breaking altogether. “He blocked me. Dodged me when I went to see him. Before I knew it, he was signing contracts and the song was being produced.” Yoongi sets his fists back on the table with not much strength at all, as if he’s just so exhausted of it all. “It was half a goddamn year ago. It’s too late now.”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re standing. “No, no, you can’t just let it go like this!” Not when it puts that look into his eyes. “You can fight it! You can, uhh, report him or show some proof that you wrote it together or something!” When he doesn’t respond, you step towards him, intending to put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon Yoongi, you’re better than this!”

He knocks your hand away as he surges to his feet too. “Shut up. Just shut. Up.” He rounds on you, fury’s fire back in his eyes, worse than you’ve ever seen it since hurt is what stokes the flames to blazing. “You don’t know anything about me. You think just because we fucked once you have some insight into who I am or what I should do?”

His words hit you like bullets as you stagger back but the bed prevents you from moving too far, caging you in. “Yoongi, no, that’s not—”

“Or what? Are you gonna tell me you came here today because you missed my cock that much?”

Thoughts seem to fly clear out of your mind at the dip in his voice. Your heart thuds in your ears as Yoongi takes a step. Then another. Breaking every boundary of personal space until his lips are aside your ear. Breath curves around your lobe, coming hot, much too hot as he growls, “didn’t get enough in that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?”

“I... Uh...”

“That’s why you’re running your mouth, huh?” He captures your bottom lip, tracing it with a calloused thumb. “When you should be choking on my cock instead.” Yoongi pulls back enough for you to see how his mouth curls into that damn smirk, and you remember. God, you remember how he stole what he wanted from your body and left you stuffed full of his pleasure. But this time, there’s a desperation behind his words that was absent before. As if right now, he’s the one that needs you despite the lewdness rolling off his tongue.

So you drop to your knees.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, then narrow with deep pleasure as he thumbs your cheek with more tenderness than you would have expected. That thought is shattered when he harshly tugs your chin up, forces you to stare into the gaze that you can only find predatory. His other hand works the waistband of his sweats, tugging it down to spring his stiff cock so violently it smacks you in the face. “Open wide, baby,” he snarls, the word not sweet but condescending, the way he enunciates the syllables.

You let your mouth unhinge, but you don’t move to engulf his dick in your heat. Instead, you drag your gaze across the few beads of pre-cum are already gathered on the tip, just waiting to be slathered all over the smooth head by your fingers. He groans when you curl your hand on his shaft, bucking his hips into your touch whether he wants to or not. He can’t control himself when you pressure his frenulum, squeezing to coax another moan from him. You love that you can drive him this wild with need, put that look on his face as if he’s seeing the bright lights of heaven behind those half-closed eyelids.

But he’s not about to let you take control.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” He shoves his hips forward, sliding himself between your parted lips and onto your awaiting tongue. You taste the saltiness of arousal leaking from his swollen cock, swiping along the head to gather every last drop of sin. He stiffens even more under your touch and the slippery texture of your agile tongue; you take it all in stride, swirling saliva around while your fingers use the excess spit to work his shaft.

“Unh, your tongue feels so damn good.” Yoongi moans like his stresses are melting away with every lick you slather across his taut skin. You trace the fat vein running along the side, carving the curves into memory. Which spots make him shiver, which ones make him moan. “Fuck, almost as good as that tight cunt of yours.” Said cunt gives a pulse of wanton need and you have to squeeze your walls around air, feeling so damn empty when you know how full you could be.

Without a single regard to your wants, he continues to urge his hips forward, mercilessly plunging in thick inches of dick until the head prods at the back of your throat. You’re trying your best to breathe through your nose but he makes that impossible when he tests your gag reflex with two brutal thrusts. Only after does he bring himself back, let you suck in much-needed oxygen before you’re bobbing your head again to his groans.

Yoongi seems torn between squeezing his eyes shut and keeping them trained on you, mired to the sight of your lips stretched and wrapped so obscenely around his cock. “How much of me can you take with that filthy mouth?” It’s a challenge he issues despite his tense, sweaty thighs and the unassailable glaze in his eyes that says he’s closer to the end than he’d like to admit.

“All of it,” you say as best you can with your mouth stuffed full. You’re not afraid of him, of any attempts he’s made to scare you off. You prove so by supressing your instincts and easing him into the slick of your throat. You push on despite the protests of your body, spurred by the painful fist in your hair that keeps you speared on him. His fine pubic hair tickles your nose, smelling like soap and his natural musk that is somehow more intoxicating than it should be. You’re so close; if you strained, you could give his crotch a sloppy French kiss.

“Then take it.”

You choke when he fucks in the last few inches, forcing his bulging cock down your throat. He pulls back only to repeat the action, earning himself a fresh gag. He seems to love that lewd squelch, imprinting it in his mind along with the tears coalescing at the corners of your eyes. Spit flies everywhere as he rocks his hips like a machine made solely for this purpose, abusing your aching mouth but even that turns you on. You don’t think you’ve never been this aroused by sucking a dick but Yoongi just has that effect on you, for better or worse.

You can barely hold onto his skinny thighs as the muscles ripple beneath your grasp in name of erratic, orgasm-seeking thrusts. They make him occasionally jerk his dick but if he grazes your teeth, he doesn’t show it. Just keeps pumping like a madman, getting himself off on how you take him so well – his good girl. Your jaw aches from his girth but you don’t dare pull away; not when he’s slamming into you like you’re the only thing in his world that matters right here, right now.

Now Yoongi’s the one choking when you lift your hand, cupping the sensitive skin of his balls. His lust-drenched eyes have flown open with surprise. Then he’s grinning, impressed with your eagerness. “Just like that—god—yeah, use your tongue, fuck…!” His moans are becoming increasingly broken, interrupted by gasps when you work your throat in tandem with fingers. “I’m gonna cum down your throat, baby,” he promises. “You better drink every fucking drop.”

You suck him harder as agreement, slurping with noisy abandon as if there’s nothing you want more than his seed coating your throat. Messy spit bubbles beside your lips but there’s no stopping you, not when his knees are buckling and he’s moaning your name in a hoarse voice that should be illegal.

“C-Cummin...!” Yoongi doesn’t even get to finish the word. Two hands on the back of your head force you all the way down. His shaft pulses and the first shot of cream hits your throat, followed by several hot strands that you automatically swallow down. He’s still gasping when he pulls back, tip profusely spilling the last remnants of bliss onto the tongue you leave exposed for his viewing pleasure. Then you gulp it down while you hold his heated stare.

With something like a growl, Yoongi yanks you up off the floor, crashing his mouth on yours to tangle your rather-numbed tongue with his own. One hand is still arrested in your hair but the other finds your waist, dragging you close to his body as he brutally sucks, bruises your bottom lip. You let yourself believe he needs to feel you, that he wants you even while his cock softens and carnal lust slips away.

“Y-Yoongi,” is the only thing you can exhale when he finally lets you go. The kisses only add to the arousal pooling between your thighs, demanding attention. But Yoongi makes no moves to take care of your need.

Instead, he wipes his lips of spit with the back of his hand. “Damn. That mouth of yours is something else.” He’s still panting, clearly having left most of his sanity on your tongue.

“I know.” You’re the one smirking now, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Looking around, you find a tissue and use it to clean yourself off. Yoongi does the same, and for a moment, it all just feels normal between you two.

“Thanks. That really cleared my head.” It only takes Yoongi a minute to get his pants back on. Then he’s planted himself in his chair again. Wait. Is that it? Your smile twists, droops into a frown as you watch him pull up the complicated software with all the soundbites back onto his screen, typing away as if inspiration has struck.

“Yo—”

“Looks like you’re not the worst coworker after all.”

…Right. How could you have forgotten? That word sends you crashing down into reality like an icy bath. You stare at the side of his face, focused squarely on his screen as if you’re nothing more than a houseplant. Not even giving you the title of fuck buddy, or friends with benefits. But, then again, you’re not friends in the first place.

“You can stay if you want, but I have to keep working on this.” That just sounds like an afterthought, a consolation prize that’s more bitter than the taste of his cum still lingering in your mouth.

You’re already moving towards the bag you left near the door. “No thanks.” You pull the strap onto your shoulder, twisting the icy doorknob. “Bye, I guess.”

Yoongi doesn’t even look back.

To set the record straight – you are not a coward. You are a rational adult making rational decisions that fit into your adult schedule. Begging Namjoon to switch shifts with you for the next month is just part of your regular plans, in no way influenced by the mixed, confusing, dizzying feelings that pop their heads up like groundhogs every time Yoongi crosses into your line of sight. Or your thoughts. Or really in any way whatsoever.

Okay... Maybe you’re a little bit of a coward.

But you can’t seem to help it. He’s too distracting, now that you’ve had a second taste of his poison. A poison that, instead of stealing your life, seems to have claimed your rationality as victim instead. You experienced the consequences of this robbery for the first time on Friday morning, when Yoongi showed up on time (shocker!) for his shift. Instead of being absolutely delighted, all you could think about was that he should have slept in a bit more because of the bruised bags beneath his eyes.

Friday was the first time you’d seen him at all since that visit to his apartment four days prior. Namjoon and Hoseok had taken Yoongi’s shifts throughout the rest of the week, you assumed to give Yoongi time to finish his song. You couldn’t muster up the courage to ask Yoongi about the piece; it felt like you were prying into a world that he wanted you to stay firmly out of. You still don’t understand why you’re so interested in the first place, when you should be hating him.

The rest of that shift had been a hodgepodge of awkwardness, what with the flinching every time Yoongi brushed past your arm reaching for the syrup, then the weird high-pitched tone your voice went to when he addressed you. By the time you left work on Friday, you were determined never to repeat that again.

So here you are. Today. Monday night. Except this time, you’re not spending it knelt on a musty apartment floor, swallowing Yoongi’s anger. That’s probably a good thing, you tell yourself. You need the time and the space to sort out your own emotions. To think about why the hell you keep replaying the sadness in his eyes, then corrupting that image with the coldness of his back in that chair and—

“Hellooo? Anybody home?”

A hand abruptly appears in front of your face and you jolt back to reality, whipping your gaze to find Hoseok grinning brightly at you. “There we go. I’ve been calling your name for ages.”

“Oops, sorry Hobi. I just spaced out. What did you say?”

“I said that I’m leaving soon, silly.” Hoseok leans against the counter, playful curiosity in his expression. “What’re you thinking so hard about?”

“...Nothing important.”

“Well, guess I can’t blame you. All the downtime will do that to ya. And you’re staying for the next month?”

“That’s the plan.” A customer approaches the bar, bringing you their empty plate. “Thanks, have a good night!”

Hoseok chuckles. “I thought you had night classes. Don’t tell me you dropped out of college to avoid working with Yoongi.”

The plate you were holding clatters as you drop it, smack the porcelain against the counter. “W-Why would I want to avoid working with Yoongi?” How did he know? Oh god, did Yoongi tell him what happened?

“Because he’s always late?”

“Oh! Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, no, no, it’s not because of him…” You don’t sound convincing in the slightest, yet you have no choice but to plow on. “I’m just taking an online course this term. So why not take an easier shift because I have the time, you know?” To be fair, you were planning on taking the course anyway. It was just a matter of physically going into class or not.

“Makes sense.” Hoseok grins. “And I’ll always be on time.”

“Yup. I can always count on you, Hobi.”

He stares at his watch, watching the second hand tick the seconds away. “Aaaand I’m off. You’ll have to count on me next time because I have a hot date!”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Hope it goes well!”

Hoseok is out like a whirlwind in the matter of minutes. Left alone in the shop, you run a hand through your hair, surveying the little café. One customer taps furiously away on their laptop. Another devours what remains of their quiche. A third jots down notes while they parse through War and Peace. You’re expecting no one else tonight, certainly not Yoongi to come bursting in like he had the last time you had a night shift. You’d better get started on cleaning.

As you wipe down the counters, remove the leftover food from the display case, the customers leave one by one. You hum a song beneath your breath, distracting yourself from any errant thoughts of a certain person that might be wanting to poke their head through. You’re not having any of that. Not today.

Time speeds by, and soon you only have thirty minutes left to go. You’re now alone in the shop, working quickly enough to ensure you’ll be finished right as your shift ends and not a second more.

Then the door chime goes off. Your head snaps up, and for a moment, for an infuriating moment, you hope it’s Yoongi.

Instead, another familiar face appears, that same, smooth, self-assured smile painted across his lips. Jiwon. This time dressed in a fitted suit, one that makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot. Still one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. Still not Yoongi.

“Hi. Hi!” You correct yourself, realizing you should sound less disappointed. “Welcome.”

“Hi.” His easy smile widens as he approaches the counter, devastating with those melting chocolate eyes. “Wishing I was someone else?” He asks with a laugh as he pulls out his wallet.

Oops. Your face must have given you away earlier. “No! Of course not.” You force on a grin to match his, wiping your damp hands on your apron.

“Good. Because I was hoping for you. That you’d be working tonight.”

“Oh...” Your face automatically heats up. There’s no way he’s flirting with you, right? Him, who is so far out of your league you’re not even playing the same game. “I don’t normally work night shifts.”

“I noticed.”

“I. Um. Ahem.” You clear your throat out of sheer nerves. “What, uh, what can I get for you?”

“Just a black coffee this time, please.”

“Got it. Go ahead and tap.”

When you hand over the hot cup, Jiwon takes it leisurely. This time, there’s no denying how he lets his fingers graze past yours for that extra half-second, how his eyes hold yours with something unfathomable and exciting.

“I’m working every weeknight for the next month!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, not even knowing what the hell you’re hoping for. Shooting your shot with this incredibly good-looking man. Making a fool of yourself, apparently. “So, uh, yeah.”

To your great relief, Jiwon nods his head. He raises his coffee like a toast. “Then I’ll see you soon. Goodnight.” The way his voice lilts around and teases the parting word remains in your mind through the rest of your shift and even after when you get home, still thinking about how he’d smiled at you like a promise.

Maybe forgetting Min Yoongi won’t be so hard after all.

The weeks come and go. Before you know it, half the month has sped by, and you’re having more fun than you ever could have expected at work. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Yoongi, working so well with Hoseok and a newly hired college kid Jungkook that you’ve barely had the time to think about him. Sure, it’s a bit odd not to have someone to bicker with every shift, but that’s more than made up for by the presence of Jiwon.

True to his word, Jiwon comes in practically every night, with that same casual smile that makes your heart unfairly quicken and flipflop. He always asks about your day, listening intently as you rattle on about what mundane thing has occurred like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Still, he hasn’t asked for your number in all this time, nor has he offered much information about himself. So, tonight, you’ve decided, after two weeks of this flirtation, you’re going to ask him on a proper date. Tonight is Friday night, one of the busier nights. So, to compensate, you’ll be closing together with Jungkook.

With that in mind, it’s no wonder that you walk though the doors of the café feeling nervous but excited. You love working with Jungkook though, and know he’ll dispel your nerves before too long with one of those wildly hilarious stories of his various exploits. The door chimes tinkle behind you as you take note that the place is rather busy. Gross. Then you sweep your eyes to the counter, expecting to see Jungkook’s bright smile.

It’s not Jungkook handing over a green tea Frappuccino, stacked high with whip cream to a young woman. It’s Yoongi.

“Yoongi?!” You exclaim, voice carrying across the café.

He turns his head, finds your surprised eyes. “That’s me.” His voice is as dry as ever, but he’s looking better than he did two weeks ago. Much better. You try to ignore the squeeze of your heart at the casual mess of his bangs, the falsely sweet smile that still lingers on his lips from interaction with the customer.

Just a coworker, you remind yourself. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s gaze follows you as you move behind the counter. “Working.”

“Well, gee, I can see that. But you never work the night shift. You hate it.” He had said very vehemently so before, when you suggested he switch shifts if he couldn’t wake up in the morning.

“Yeah, well...” The floor suddenly becomes quite fascinating to him. “It’s just this once.”

Hoseok appears out of nowhere, his jacket already on. He swings his arm over Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nah, he doesn’t hate it! I heard him begging Jungkook to switch shifts with him a few days ago.”

“Hoseok, shut up,” Yoongi spits, spinning around pointedly to face the customer approaching the counter.

You giggle as Hoseok rolls his eyes quite dramatically behind Yoongi’s back. “You’re on your way out, Hobi?”

“Yup. Just you and Yoongi tonight.”

You nod, licking your dry lips. “Okay, got it. Have a good night!”

Yoongi may not be Jungkook, but that doesn’t mean that your plans have changed. You’re asking Jiwon out. You’re moving on from the unaddressed, oddly in-between relationship you and Yoongi have, and you’re hopefully going to have a date by the end of the night. You slip an apron on, determination in your veins.

Whatever downtime you usually have on Friday night (that you were worried would give you time to be pensive about Jiwon’s impending arrival) soon becomes a long-lost dream as the customers just start pouring in. It seems there’s a big event at the theatre across the street, causing an enormous boom in caffeine and snack needs that keep you and Yoongi on your toes, a fact which Yoongi looks especially irritated by. That might be because he looks like he has something to say to you every time you have a minute of break; but he can’t get out anything substantial past a ‘hey’ before he’s drowned out by another group of people.

It’s hours before the crowd finally dies down, leaving the shop sparse and you exhausted. As glad as you are for the break, it also means you have to face whatever Yoongi wants to say. You can’t fathom what he could possibly want, but it looks like he’s about to tell you as he turns in your direction.

“Hey.”

You take a sip of your water. “Hi.”

“Uh…” You say nothing, just stare at him. Yoongi looks decidedly uncomfortable, and you’re starting to worry he’s about to drop that he has an STD or something. “I, err, just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” Bringing you food or sucking your dick?

Yoongi sighs, raking his hair back with a hand. “I finished my song because of you.”

“Oh. Oh.” Okay… You can’t deny it; that actually makes you pretty happy. It makes you drop the frown and walls you thought you had to put up around him, replacing it with a genuine smile. “Congrats, Yoongi! When do you hear back about the results?”

“Not for a few weeks. But without you, I think I wouldn’t have entered at all this year. I just couldn’t write anything decent after…” Yoongi cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Look. Even though the song’s still not perfect and I’m still not too happy with it, it’s done. So. Thanks.”

Your heart threatens to pound at the sincerity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Anytime.”

Yoongi coughs, cutting off the moment prematurely. “Anyway, I’m gonna do inventory in the back.” You hate inventory, thinking it a mindless task that you would rather make a hundred lattes than do. You don’t know if Yoongi knows this, but you appreciate him all the same. You’re smiling faintly as you watch him disappear into the backroom.

Seconds later, the front door clatters, chime going off. You look up, customer-service smile already painted on, but it becomes that much wider when you find Jiwon’s friendly face grinning right back at you.

“Jiwon!”

“Hey! Can’t stay long today, but had to stop by for my coffee fix. And to see my favorite barista.” He winks, way too smooth for your health.

You fight the automatic flush of your cheeks. “No problem. Iced macchiato? Skim milk and light ice?”

“Yup. You get me.”

Your hands begin to tremble as you turn to make the drink, thinking about how best to ask him those difficult words. Oh god, you’ve never been good at this, but you’ll be kicking yourself forever if you never try. Do you want to go on a date? Nope. Too direct. Are you free on Saturday? Or maybe you should go with a simple do you like pasta? But what if he doesn’t? Oh gooood.

The drink is finished all too soon. You hand it to him, watching him take a sip. “Mm, you always make the best coffee.” The compliments come too easily to him, you swear.

“Haha, I try my best!” Okay. Now or never. “Oh, um, by the way…”

The door of the backroom swings open, interrupting you. Yoongi’s voice can be clearly heard over the music. “Hey, do you know where th—” He stops. His gaze rakes across the scene, taking in your silly, flustered grin, your faintly flushed cheeks. Then his eyes fall on who you’re talking to. His jaw slackens. “...Hyung?”

a/n: so uh,,, i’m sorry to end it like this again haha. what do you think is up? 👀 inbox is open; let’s chat! also the song i reference is “We Don’t Talk Together” by Heize and Giriboy, produced by Yoongi!

thank you to my beta readers: @sweetlyseokjin, @jiminspjm, @mypurplelamp, @hoseoksdior, @bigtiddiejoon 💞

and as always, a fat shoutout to my best girl @jeonshome for helping me brainstorm & hyping me up like always when i was struggling. don’t know what i’d do without you!! ♡

want to be on the tag list? the link is in my navi! (or send an ask!)

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Treasure- Part 1

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)

Word Count: 3,565

Genre: Fantasy AU, Pirate AU

Warnings: Language, Violence, Some Smut, Mentions of Blood

Summary: For her entire life, Y/N has always been at the disposal of the men who treat her like she’s less than human. Her father was an alcoholic and her mother is unable to support the two of them after his death. Years later, Y/N feels stuck and there’s nothing worse than feeling trapped in your own home. However, after being kidnapped by a gang of ruthless pirates, Y/N finally gets her first chance of freedom and she very much likes the way it tastes even if that means playing with the heart of the notorious pirate captain whose affections become more and more obvious every day.

When I was younger, my mother told me stories about the ocean goddess Amphitrite whose husband, Poseideon, commanded the endless tides and waves. She was a jealous lover, envious of the women Posideon would often bed, resulting in demigod children which he treasured and kept safely hidden away from his wife’s thirst for vengeance. But children can only be controlled for as long as their curiosity remains sated, choosing the comfort of land instead of that deep-spirited desire to return to the water. Eventually, his demigod children could no longer resist the call and that’s when Amphitrite would rise from the deepest trenches, commanding the ocean to overhaul boats of brave sailors, thunderous power splitting the ships in half while the demigod children lose themselves to their father’s perilous domain.

But Posideon grew angry with Amphitrite’s actions, demanding that she leave his children alone or else she would be banished to the Underworld where his ruthless brother Hades prevailed. Bitter and disappointed, Amphitrite sought a new solution to the problem of her husband’s illicit affairs. Amphitrite decided to try her luck on land and she lived amongst the humans for many years. One day, while she was wandering a distant shore, Amphitrite fell in love with a gorgeous sailor whose long, silky hair and endless sea-green eyes commanded her deepest affections. The sailor, who never realized her true identity, also fell for the mysterious way he felt drawn to the woman who climbed aboard his ship. He promised that he would do anything to please Amphitrite and the clever goddess requested that the sailor track and kill the children of her unsuspecting husband. So, with a crew at hand, the love-struck sailor spent years at sea burning the ships of Poseidon’s demigod children, earning him the nickname of “Pirate” for his bloodthirsty crimes at the behest of Amphitrite....

“I think that’s enough for one night,” my mother would say, noticing the way my eyes grew wider despite the fact that I was meant to be sleeping.

“Are there pirates here?” I would often ask my mother once she was finished.

“They’re only stories, my dearest,” my mother would reply, holding me close at night while my gaze wandered the darkness, searching out the window with a mixture of fear and trepidation, wondering if a pirate would sneak through the window with blood dripping from his blade.

But that was my childhood and, as the years slowly passed away, those stories grew as distant as my memories, lost to the powerful effects of time. I grew as tall as my mother, discovering her features whenever I would look into a mirror. I also inherited her passion for storytelling and would often sit on the hills overlooking the brilliant sea imagining myself exploring the distant lands that the maps at school promised would hold all sorts of possibilities.

Sadly, my dreams of leaving the island became less and less of a possibility as the realities of life replaced the fantastical wanderings of my imagination. When my father eventually died and left me alone to deal with my despondent mother who could no longer take care of herself. She would usually sit in the living room throughout the day, looking out the window at nothing in particular. It was a miracle to hear her speak, and I knew that my mother had become nothing more than a shell of her former self. To take care of us, I was forced to leave school which only dampened my curiosity in the study of Astronomy and the brilliant stars that always inspired me when I was younger. 

I would always miss my youth because now, at the tender age of 21, I had nothing left of the Spirit that once fueled my every hope and desire. I walked through each day dreading the possibility of another, watching everyone else around me move through their lives like the waves washing up on the beach, there at one instant and then gone the next. Leaving for a distant land in the small ships that frequently visited our small island. But nobody liked to stay forever because the human instinct to explore and conquer was present in every man and woman. Sadly, I’d never get the chance to satisfy mine.

Trapped here, like the fish brought in at high tide, to suffer through an endless cycle, wishing to escape to the stars because only then could I be truly free.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” the heavy-set man groaned at my ear, thick hips pounding against mine with bruising power.

“I’ll be whatever you want,” I responded robotically, gazing at the ceiling and creating constellations out of the boards.

It was the same every night, depending on what sort of customers were drawn into the hostel. The owner, an older gentleman with greasy, balding hair, would accept payment for our services, setting aside a gold token or two if he was feeling generous towards his whores which only ever happened when the place was full. Our best customers were merchant ships full of drunk and horny sailors looking to forget about their unfortunate circumstances and stick their uncut cocks into whatever comfortable hole they could find. 

“It’s good business,” the owner would croon, gathering us girls together around him. “My sluts make me good money.”

I would always hold my tongue at the term because, despite the fact that it was true, the connotation still struck a nerve, especially considering how my father had treated my mother. He would often come home at night completely wasted, slapping my mother like she meant absolutely nothing to him. Yelling obscenities while requesting that his slut get him something else to drink.

My father had passed away years ago, but my mother took his loss a lot more than I was expecting considering his treatment towards her. Her eyes lost the light I had cherished as a child, spending her days gazing out the window in my father’s old armchair while I was forced to find work. And those young girls like me who were unable to stay in school on the island could always find work at a whorehouse, selling her body for enough money to buy food and pay rent. That’s all that mattered to me for survival, but it still didn’t satisfy my wildest imaginations, dreaming of escaping to a place far away from this horrible island.

My client for the evening let out a deep-throated moan, cumming inside and I winced when I felt him lean down to kiss my forehead, the gesture far too intimate for my comfort. “I’d buy you again a heartbeat,” he told me sincerely while I impatiently waited for my shift to finally end.

I was usually a lot stricter about the type of contact I allowed. However, these days, I usually endured far more than I used to back when I was still new to the services required of me. Skittish around the older men touching my body or afraid to even ask the other girls for advice. I’m sure some of those clients took advantage of my innocence, but that had since worn off and I was nothing if not completely stoic when it came time to satisfy another customer.

I was still often ignored by the other girls, especially since men usually preferred me because of my younger age. There was only so much that makeup could hide before the body itself bore its secrets in the wrinkles creasing one’s forehead or the bulging veins in a girl’s thighs and arms. My body was still soft, enjoying the effects of youth before those looks would inevitably become lost to a steady decline.

But then again, most men didn’t care since they were usually drunk and reeking of desperation when they entered the hostel. “Sell me your best,” they would often request of my boss to which he would simply signal whichever girl happened to be closest at the time. It was always unfortunate when it was someone simply looking to negotiate their pay so that they could feed their family.

I walked down the stairs from my room with heavy steps while trying to ignore the new ache between my thighs. Carefully, I avoided the lingering patrons while taking a seat at the bar. Someone had discarded a glass from earlier, but I didn’t care about whose lips might have touched the rim, downing the rest of the nasty-smelling liquid without care. “Don’t look so down, kid, you’re too young for wrinkles.”

I offered Wendy, the kind hostel bartender, a small smile. “Any news on how many ships are coming into port tonight?”

“Heard a lot of rumors today,” she said, toweling off another glass. “It might be a pretty busy night. You know that makes the boss happy.”

“But it also means a long shift for me,” I said. “I can only handle a few old bastards a night before I feel completely numb in my legs.”

“Try stretching,” she suggested. “Good business means you might get paid more.”

“Still won’t be enough,” I said, barely acknowledging one of the other hostel workers who had suddenly joined us at the bar.

“Sounds like someone should have stayed at home if she ain’t on her best game,” her nasal voice informed me.

“I don’t do much of the work.”

A snort of laughter. “That’s true. You might be the best of us at spreading those pretty thighs.”

I gritted my teeth together as I signaled for Wendy to refill my glass. “This coming from someone who’s always chosen last by the clientele.”

Barbara paused next to me, spine rigid. “Watch your mouth, little girl. We don’t talk that way to anyone, got it?”

“Whatever,” I muttered darkly, eyes narrowing as more men started to walk into the hostel, eyes shiny with evidence of their desires which I would have the obligation of fulfilling.

“Work hard,” Barbara snapped at me before wandering out onto the main floor sporting her best smile.

I glowered in her direction, surveying the crowd with disinterest. “There’s a big group,” Wendy remarked, nodding at the door.

I spun around in my chair, holding tightly to my glass as I discovered the boisterous crowd of relatively young sailors who had just entered the hostel.  It was a large group of men, clothed in ragged attire barely held together by worn stitching, black-toed boots scuffing the floors. They were loud and obnoxious, clearly oblivious to decorum. They wore matching black masks and hats, overcoats thick as they carried themselves with an air of superiority. “They don’t look like regular sailors,” I remarked loosely to Wendy, unaware of the consequences of my words until a few moments later when the leader of the group suddenly confronted my boss who had been talking with a few regulars.

“How many do you have here?” the masked man demanded, flaming red hair contrasting with his pale skin.

“H-how many of what?” my boss asked, cowering back as he took in the sight of the gangly crew.

“Whores,” the red-head said, surveying the hostel with interest, eyes pausing on me for longer than I would have liked.

“Tonight?” my boss spluttered. “I got six working the floor.”

“We’ll take all of them,” the red-head said. 

“I don’t know if I have enough rooms to accommodate that many pairings! If you could just-”

“Not here,” the red-head sighed impatiently, turning to look at one of his partners. “Am I not speaking English, San?”

“It sounds like it to me,” the one named San pondered, gaze thoughtful as he considered my boss. “Did you not hear him, old man? Give us all of your whores.”

“W-where would you take them?”

“Onboard, obviously,” the red-head snapped. “The crew needs some new entertainment.”

“They got bored of the last ones,” a deeper voice joined the fray belonging to someone whose eyes crinkled at the sides with mischief. He was undoubtedly smiling beneath that unusual disguise.

“Hurry up, Mingi, Captain’s not gonna wait all night!”

“Those girls aren’t leaving this hostel,” my boss said, standing straighter even as his shoulders fell against the heavy gaze of Mingi, tall form looming in a dominant fashion.

In a split second, Mingi pulled a gun from the belt around his waist, aiming directly at my boss’ head. The entire hostel grew silent, all eyes watching the impending situation with fear evident in their dilated irises. “What did you say?”

“Alright, alright,” my boss said, waving his hands like a lunatic. “You can use them for one night.”

BANG!

I heard a distant squeal when his body finally hit the floor, but I was too caught up in my unexpected self-satisfaction at seeing my slimy boss bleeding out against the wood I had spent hours cleaning last night. “He said six,” Mingi growled, glancing back at his men. “Take whichever six you want, including her,” he said, pointing in my direction. “We can save her for the captain.”

His words were the catalyst for the sudden action of the other men, swords drawn from their scabbards as they ran at the crowd with excited cheers as if the prospect of attacking innocent civilians was too much to anticipate. Screams filled the hostel, men and women alike running in opposite directions in their desperation to escape. “Pirates!” someone shouted and the word sent a shiver down my spine as I met the gaze of the man who had murdered my boss in cold blood.

“The Captain will like you a lot, girl,” Mingi said, nodding appreciatively as he openly appraised me like I was particularly worthy of his attention. Around us, the other girls were sobbing and pleading, struggling in the grasps of the pirates who had since taken them hostage, pulling them towards the door of the hostel which I once associated with long nights struggling to sell my body to the highest bidder. “Are you gonna give me a hard time like your friends?”

“They aren’t my friends,” I retorted coldly, surprising the pirate standing before me.

“You’ll be coming with us.”

“I understand,” I said calmly, gazing out across the now mostly vacant hostel, a few bodies littering the floors covered in blood. “I’ll go with you.”

Mingi smirked, gripping tightly to my upper arm even though it wasn’t necessary, leading me out into the chaotic streets like I was nothing more than a common dog for him to command. The island itself was a complete mess, townspeople running through the streets cursing and yelling, trash loitering the sidewalks, children mindlessly glancing around with wide, confused eyes. And through it all I managed to keep myself together, vaguely wondering what my mother might be doing at that moment. But it never crossed my mind to beg this pirate to allow me one last chance to see her. It didn’t matter that my mother depended on me to take care of her because, for a fleeting second, I could only think about how unfair it was that I was stuck with a mother like her who could no longer protect me from harm

The dock was glowing in the distance, lanterns lighting the worn pathways leading to different ships anchored at port. I had only been to the docks a few times in my life, mostly to help my former boss whenever the hostel received a large delivery. Nevertheless, it still managed to fill me with a sick feeling of hope that maybe one day I could find myself a ship willing to take me far away from the island. Somewhere warm and inviting where I could study Astronomy and remember all the delicate patterns I had once memorized when I was still a young and impressionable child. 

Of course, being kidnapped against my will was certainly not the way I envisioned leaving the island, especially when it involved pirates. I studied Mingi from the corner of my eyes. How many people has he killed? Would I be just another body to add to his list?

Such questions were useless to consider because fear was the last emotion I needed to feed into right now, paralyzed with the wide-eyed desire to run or fight and protect myself. I would stand no chance with these pirates, especially Mingi who was taller and strong, leading me to a ship that stood in contrast to the others anchored down. The ship in question, with the name “Precious” painted onto the side of the hull, was larger than any boat I had ever seen docked at the bay. It was actually quite beautiful, dark sails trembling in the breeze while the forlorn flag at the highest point indicated that it belonged to the pirate order. But that was just the ironic contradiction of the ship because despite its outward appearance, the men who commanded her wheel were nothing short of barbaric. A nasty breed of man who plundered the seas and killed without remorse.

I stumbled up the narrow plank, glaring at Mingi from the corner of my eye as he continued to push me onboard. The other girls were already kneeling, hands tied behind their backs as they suffered from various states of undress. I glanced down at my disheveled skirts, grateful that they at least covered my legs. “This one is for the Captain.”

“But she’s the youngest!” another voice complained, glaring almost enviously at the other girls.

“For. The. Captain,” Mingi repeated, jerking me to the right. “You can do whatever you want to the rest of them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, wincing when I saw one of the pirates dig his fingers tightly into Barbara’s dark hair. “You should be grateful,” Mingi growled at me. “The Captain doesn’t like to share.”

“I don’t feel grateful,” I hissed back at him, completely unprepared for the accompanying slap as my head twisted to the side.

“You won’t talk to me that way,” Mingi said, shoving me against the wall, fingers tightening around my throat. My lungs were screaming for air, toes hovering above the deck, hands scratching against his impossible hold. I was gasping, desperate for air while my mind screamed at me to fight back, but I was powerless against his predominant strength.

“Is this one mine?”

My feet landed on the floor and I dropped to my knees, breathing in the air like it was the last time I might be able to do so. “It might not be worth it, Captain,” Mingi spat. “She’s got a mouth on her.”

“Is that so?”

I was slowly recovering from my temporary brush with death, lifting my gaze to locate the mysterious Captain I was now meant to serve. He wasn’t as tall as Mingi, but he was somehow far more intimidating, wearing all black from the mask hiding his face to the boots echoing against the deck. His hair was a strawberry color, delicately framing an angular face that might be handsome if it didn’t belong to such a despicable person. “Tell me your name, whore,” he demanded.

I swallowed hard against the raw ache in my throat. “Y/N.”

The Captain nodded. “Mingi, you can leave the two of us now. Go enjoy the other girls.”

Mingi obeyed, albeit reluctantly as he trained those suspicious eyes on my recovering form. “Aye, sir.”

I watched him as he walked away, fingers massaging my still-tender throat. “Does it hurt?”

I carefully considered the Captain. “He tried to kill me.”

“You shouldn’t mouth off,” the Captain said, nodding towards a door. “Come inside.” I bit my tongue, withholding a sharp retort as I did as he directed, brushing off my skirts. “My private quarters,” he said, shrugging off his thick overcoat while I examined the dozens of candles lining the mantlepiece. 

“Will the others be hurt?”

He paused at my question. “Does it matter? You can’t do anything to help them.”

“I just want to help myself,” I told him honestly, brushing my fingers across a rather ancient looking bookcase.

“Then this should be easy,” the Captain said, tearing off his mask. “You can be good for me while I fuck you.”

I took a moment to admire the Captain’s features, far more delicate than I was anticipating with dark, thoughtful eyes. “I’ve been doing that my whole life, Captain.”

He smirked. “Then this should be second-nature to you.”

I bristled at the insinuation. “Maybe I’m tired of being treated like a whore.”

“Why else do you think you were brought onto this ship?” the Captain asked, tone growing hostile.

“I was forced to come aboard,” I said. “By that bumbling idiot who tried to kill me.”

“And I could do the same,” the Captain said, drawing a gun from the holster hanging off his belt. “Get on the bed.”

“I’d rather die,” I told him honestly, staring down the silver weapon to meet the Captain’s narrowed eyes. “Kill me instead.”

A chuckle escaped from between his lips. “So that’s what you want? I could always force you.”

“I’d fight back.”

“But I’m quite strong, love,” he said with a barely distinguishable accent. 

“It wouldn’t be easy for you,” I said. “Didn’t you say you wanted someone easy?”

The Captain was quiet for a long time before he re-holstered his gun, crossing his arms in a closed-off manner. “Then perhaps a few nights in the brig will change your mind.”

[ironhusband]

The Golden Rule

I’m a new writer to this ship, so if you have suggestions or comments I would gladly accept them.

~~~

Tony had been in love with Rhodey since he was 15. 

It wasn’t love at first sight. He graduated from boarding school at 14, and his dad wasted no time in sending him to college the second he got him. When he walked into the room, his roommate wasn’t there yet. ‘Good,’ he thought. His last roommate from boarding school was a nightmare. When Rhodey appeared at the dorms, he didn’t expect anything different. When Rhodey hung up his military posters, one of Captain America, Tony sneered and didn’t expect anything different. When Rhodey found out he was Howard Stark’s son, he didn’t expect anything different. But Rhodey was different. 

It was also love at first sight. It was love at the moment Tony woke up, his head aching, his memories of the past night wiped and his eyes begging to be closed again. It was love with his eyes landing on the beautiful brown, slightly mad but mostly concerned eyes belonging to Rhodey. He asked Tony who gave him alcohol. Tony told him he didn’t know. Rhodey said nothing and asked him if he had a hangover food or if this was his first time. Tony didn’t say anything, so Rhodey got him eggs and bacon. 

Tony was chowing down his eggs when he whispered, “why are you nice to me? I haven’t been nice to you.”

“You’re just a kid,” Rhodey said, “you need protection.”

That was when he really met Rhodey. When he first got to know Rhodey. The first he wasn’t just a face he would rather avoid. The first time the sound of his voice sent butterflies to his stomach. In that way, it was love at first sight.

As Tony and Rhodey grew up, they became closer. They became friends. Rhodey was a little of a Captain America fanboy, just like Tony once was. It was annoying, but after Tony tired him out with all the stories his father used to tell him, Rhodey took down the poster and Tony felt a little victory. They stayed up late and talked about everything and nothing. They helped each other with homework, and Tony felt it was nice to have someone equal to him in robotics. Rhodey is the one that taught Tony that getting into trouble could sometimes be fun if it was meaningless pranks they did on people they hated or hacking into servers that he shouldn’t be hacking into (which was how Tony learned he could never get in trouble and his family had its perks). Tony didn’t want to come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and that was how Tony met Rhodey’s family that sort of adopted Tony. 

Sometimes, when he thought Rhodey wasn’t looking, he would stare. Because he felt lucky to have Rhodey. Even if he was just a friend that didn’t see Tony as anything more.

Tony graduated two years before Rhodey did, but he didn’t leave. He asked Rhodey if he wanted to keep living together. Rhodey looked at him like he knew why he really wanted to stay (with pity. Tony doesn’t know if it was because Rhodey knew or thought Tony wanted to stay away from his family). Rhodey was gone half the time, and Tony busied himself with work, but it was about the same as it always was. Late-night talks, seeing Rhodey’s family, loving him but never doing anything about it.

Rhodey was drafted two years later. 

“It’s just basic training,” Rhodey promised, but Tony could hear the “for now”. Rhodey was about done with the training when Tony turned 21. He promised Tony he would come home and celebrate Tony’s birthday the proper way; with getting drunk. 

He kept his promise. Tony doesn’t know how gone they were, but he would forever treasure the fact that he wasn’t blackout drunk. He wouldn’t remember the way Rhodey looked at him when he told him he was beautiful and gently pressed his lips against Tony’s otherwise.

(Tony remembers a girl at a bar hitting on him the year Rhodey was in basic training. She was smart and pretty, but Tony just couldn’t. She didn’t judge. She just asked, “what’s the matter?” and then teased, “saving yourself?” And Tony almost slipped up and said yes.)

The next day Tony had to go back to the military. 

“Stay just a minute more,” he begged.

Rhodey looked at him sadly, “Tony, they only let me go back to... well, they let me go back to say goodbye. I’m being drafted. For real. I’m leaving in two hours. I have to go now.”

Tony was shocked, “how would you not tell me this?” He crossed his arms, and his mood was crossed as well.

“I didn’t want you to worry.

Tony’s heart was breaking. Rhodey always wanted to protect him. He wanted to protect him so badly, it backfired. He wanted to protect him so badly when Rhodey was the one that needed protection. Tony scoffed, “stop. That’s no excuse. We both knew you just didn’t want me to stop you.”

Rhodey laughed, “Tony, you aren’t god. You can’t stop this.”

“I can!” Tony insisted, “I can. I can tell my dad to put you in a different position. He has ties in the military. He could have threatened not to send them weapons anymore. Hell, I could have hacked into the servers. But you told me at the last minute when I could do nothing because you know how I would feel about this.”

Rhodey didn’t say anything. Tony wanted to cry. He didn’t want this to be his last memory of Rhodey. He wanted him to stay. To have a life with him. Far away from his family and the military and everything else that can be thrown in their faces. His heart didn’t thump in heartbeats, just the phrase “I love you”. It was telling him what words he should tell Rhodey. But he couldn’t.

Rhodey didn't say anything. He just kissed Tony. A long kiss. Let Tony melt in his arms, let him break down in his arms, let him babble whatever he wanted in his arms. Neither of them said it. But they both knew it.  

~~~

Rhodey didn’t die. A year passed, and they sent letters to one another. Rhodey told him about everywhere he flew to, Tony told him about all the traveling abroad to study he was doing. They weren’t any decelerations of love, although Tony longed for them. They didn’t talk about the night they spent together, although it was all that Tony thought about writing to Rhodey.

But Rhodey promised he would come back to him. Rhodey told him that he missed him. Rhodey told him about all his plans for them. Rhodey told him about his friends teasing him about the letters. Tony hoped all the things he wrote, his quips about missing Rhodey too, about how much he could fit in where Tony was, about how the guys were just jealous of what they had, Tony hoped he did the same to Rhodey, as Rhodey did for him. 

But then his parents died. Rhodey was there for him at the funeral. He could bury his head in Rhidey’s shoulder and just breathe in his scent, not think about all his confusing emotions, his guilt and regret, his hate and missing closure, his grief and sadness. He could not think about how he wasn’t missing his parents, but also missed them too much.

After the funeral, Rhodey bought Tony a cheeseburger. He held Rhodey’s hand hesitatingly as he drove them home. Rhodey swiped his thumb over his hand reassuringly. 

“I’m getting a promotion,” Rhodey told him, “I’m moving back here.”

“Oh,” Tony said. He wanted to be happy for Rhodey, and he was happy, but those days, he was too empty to feel anything. “That’s great. I’m happy for you. It would be great to have you again.”

“I think we shouldn’t be together,” Rhodey blurted out.

That caught Tony’s attention. “What?”

Rhodey sighed, “Tony, I...” he trailed off, “you know how I feel about you. And if you don’t, just know that I... I do feel for you. But I know my career can be compromised by all this, and yours too. I mean, you’ll be taking over SI now...”

It was the first time since he heard the news of his parents dying that tears rose in his eyes. He didn’t cry in the funeral, but he did over Rhodey messing with his heart. “no, Rhodey, don’t do this to me. I waited so long for you. You can’t throw this away.”

Rhodey cupped Tony’s face in his hands, “please don’t cry because of me.”

Tony didn’t stop crying.

Rhodey didn’t want to see that so he closed his eyes and put his forehead against Tony’s.

“I’m sorry...” he sounded choked up, “at least we had that night.”

Yeah. At least they had that night.

~~~

Tony had many more lovers after that. They were all just for one night too, but not because Tony didn’t want to stay.

There was Maria, who reminded him of his mother, and not just because she had her name. It was because her kind nature could warm Tony’s cold loveless heart and her cooking was pretty good. She seemed to care more than his mother, though, and Tony knew he would just disappoint her. 

There was Trey. He was shy for a bartender but could hold a conversation good enough (better than most). His drink mixing skills weren’t that good, but the guy was new at the job, so Tony thought he would give him a lesson. He gave him a look when the lesson was simply the phrase “no matter what anyone asks give them a scotch.” At least it was a lesson to remember. 

There was Eve, who he met at eve. Her tongue was sharp and honest, and she liked betting against Tony. It was a good decision since Tony was a horrible gambler and he had lots of cash. By the end of the night, Eve was 600 dollars richer. Although Tony would never have expected his pick up lines to work on her, they did, but her attraction didn’t mean she still took from Tony what she wanted (his watch was also stolen the next morning. He kept her note and never pressed charges).

There was Vic. Tony didn’t know if it was his full name, but that’s what it said on his identification card. They couldn’t communicate with each other since Vic spoke Japanese and Tony didn’t, but his words and sometimes his silence ran deep in Tony. He left the next morning but learned Japanese for him. 

And of course, there was Maya. Maya who was smart, probably more than him at the subject she studied. Maya who listened when people talked to her, but was also one hell of a talker. Maya who didn’t take his bullshit but also laughed at his jokes and made her own. 

All of them, he thought about staying for them. For some, he almost stayed. But he never actually stayed. He never broke his golden rule: “we had that night.”

[artificialqueens]

leave a light on (for me) (Kamjie) - Mac

AN: Thank you to Alex and madisonmateomicheals for helping me out with this premise. You are both stars. Also a HUGE thank you to Multi and Jole for beta-ing and being lovely as always.

Summary: Kameron has all this new technology so that her whole house rigged up to follow her commands. The only problem is, Vanjie’s is the only voice it recognizes.

Dane loved his new house.

It was fresh and clean and modern. It had enough space that Dane could host parties and get-togethers and even let a few of his sisters crash at his place if they needed to. The kitchen was huge, and the floors were wood, and his cooling bills weren’t as astronomically high as in Nashville.

But his favorite thing by far about his new house was the technology. He had hooked up all his lights in all his rooms together. Linked his Alexas. He even had a smart fridge that told him which food was about to spoil. He had essentially turned his apartment into a smart house. The inner 10-year-old nerdy science fair winner couldn’t help but smile giddily at how the commands from his mouth turned the lights on and off, made his fireplace roar to life, and played his music so loudly he was sure his neighbors hated him.

He didn’t care. He had finally found his place. A place that he made and bought and paid for with the money he earned doing what he loved.

It was a dream.

Jose also liked it.

Which was… not as important as Dane liking it, but it was nice to have his boyfriend treat the space like his own.

It had been a little over a year since they started dating, and about six months into having his own sanctuary when Dane’s tech started malfunctioning. Namely, his lights.

He distinctly remembered waking up with a full bladder to a dark room, a small arm thrown over his waist, and a goofy smile on his face.

“Bedroom lights low,” Dane spoke, and Jose buried his face in Dane’s chest in preparation for the coming light.

A few seconds ticked by.

Then a few more seconds ticked by.

The lights didn’t turn on.

Dane sighed. “Bedroom lights low,” he said more forcefully this time.

Still, nothing happened.

Dane cursed under his breath and made a move to get up, but Jose held him fast. “Nooooo, stay here.”

“I gotta get the lights on, baby.”

“Lemme try.”

Dane smiled a bit, “Have at it, but your voice is nothing like mine, I don’t think it will-”

“Turn the lights on, Alegra!”

Suddenly, the bedroom filled with light.

After wincing at the blinding white for a few seconds, Dane looked over at his boyfriend, then his lights, then his boyfriend again, confusion evident on his face.

“How-”

“You jus gotta be forceful wit it.” Dane still was looking at him like he was crazy. “Watch,” Jose said and sat up more in bed. “Alandra!”

“That’s not-”

“Turn on some music!”

The soothing sound of a gaming soundtrack filled the bedroom a moment later.

“The fuck is this? This ain’t music.”

Dane opened his mouth to argue that the Dark Souls theme song was most assuredly real music, but Jose cut him off again.

“Alexandra!”

“Still not her name-”

“Play Rihanna!”

And just as it had a moment ago, the music changed to a recognizable melody with a thrumming bass.

Jose smiled, proud of himself laid back down, and curled up to Dane’s side.

“How the fuck does that work for you?” Dane wondered aloud.

Jose just shrugged, and after his boyfriend remained sitting up, Jose sighed and pulled his boyfriend back down to the bed. He crawled up to lay on top of Dane and kissed him until he stopped thinking so much.

That was the first time it happened.

Over the next few months, whenever Dane would give a command for his home system to complete, nothing would happen, or after a short period of time, everything would happen all at once and scare the absolute shit out of him.

But no matter what Jose did or said, or called the system, it did just as he demanded. Dane had accepted it as a part of life, and while he found it inconvenient, he was rarely home as it were, so it wasn’t too irksome.

After Werq finished for the year, the couple didn’t leave Dane’s bed for over a week. They roused themselves up enough to order Postmates, trade exhausted kisses over their bed - turned dining table, and that was about it.

When they finally started feeling like humans and not adrenaline-driven sleep-deprived robots, they migrated to the living room.

Dane flipped on some Lifetime movie and let Jose meld himself to his side. The older man ran his fingers lazily through Jose’s hair, and he swore Jose started purring.

Jose tilted his head up every now and then for a kiss.

It went on that way peacefully for a few hours, until Jose got bored, as he often did, and took the commercial break as an opportunity to properly kiss his boyfriend. Dane smiled against his lips as Jose deepened the kiss. Somehow Jose ended up in his lap, and Dane’s large hands found themselves pressed to Jose’s thighs with his chest flush against the younger man.

When the two pulled back to catch their breaths, Jose tilted his head a bit then raised his voice to a shout.

“Alana! Set the mood!”

“Setting the mood.” Came an automated voice.

Suddenly the lights dimmed in the living room, the TV flipped off, and some slow melody with a thrusting bass rang out in the previously silent room. Jose leaned back down to capture Dane’s lips, but the older man stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“When did you have time to do all that?” Dane chuckled.

“Think of it as a welcome home present,” Jose winked.

Dane laughed again, and Jose kissed the smile he had left there. “I still don’t understand why it works for you! Your voice is so much lower than mine!”

Jose sighed agitatedly, eager to get back to their previous activities, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, big man, just kiss me.”

Dane didn’t have to be told twice.

…

“The fuck you mean, I don’t care ‘bout you? Why the fuck you think I’m always over here? I ain’t been home in months. I came to see yo ass first thing I do, and you sayin’ I don’t care ‘bout you?”

Dane snapped.

He was tired and lonely, and he didn’t mean it.

“You never answer your phone! You’re always too tired or too busy to pick up the damn phone. How the hell can we have a relationship if you aren’t fucking here?”

“What’re you sayin’?”

The room was suddenly eerily silent. All the fire and fury in Jose’s eyes a moment ago was replaced with worry. Tears pricked the edges of the younger man’s eyes as if he knew Dane’s next words.

“I’m saying I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He didn’t mean it. But at the same time he did.

Long-distance relationships were hard as it was, the added pressure of fame, and followers only made it more so. Jose had never been good at answering texts on time. Dane had known that from the start. But he had brought it up so many times, and so many times Jose had promised he’d do better.

Nothing had changed.

Other than touring getting longer and schedules getting busier and hardly any time to breathe, let alone call.

Dane knew it was unfair to expect to be Jose’s number one priority, and he didn’t. He just wanted to be a priority. And it felt like he wasn’t anymore. Not the way he used to be.

So he snapped.

As soon as he said it, Dane knew he hadn’t meant it.

But the damage had already been done. So why not double down?

“You should go.”

Jose looked at him for a long moment, emotions playing like a slideshow behind his eyes. Then, he looked at the ground and left without another word.

…

Having to climb the four flights of stairs to his apartment after a grueling leg workout left Dane with barely enough energy to fish his keys out of his pocket. He managed to gather enough strength to put the key in the lock and turn it. It was quite a victory in Dane’s opinion.

“Alexa, all lights on,” Dane called out.

Nothing happened.

Dane stopped in the doorway. He looked around at his still dark apartment.

“All lights on,” he said, louder this time.

Still, nothing happened.

Dane sighed and rummaged around in the dark for a few moments before finding the couch from memory. He plopped down on the cool suede, his newly sore muscles already relaxing into the plush comfort. He sat for a moment in the darkness, brow still furrowed at why his lights wouldn’t turn on.

It took the third try before Dane got an idea.

He made his voice gruff and pitched it several octaves lower. “Lights turn on.”

In a second, the apartment was illuminated.

Dane’s heart sank.

Of course.

Of course, his fucking house still only seemed to recognize Jose’s voice. Or at least, his very terrible impression of Jose’s voice.

Dane felt a wave of emotions pass over him.

Mostly sadness.

He got up from the couch and made his way to the shower. He tried to not notice how the shower nozzle was tilted so that it angled downward more than Dane usually liked. He didn’t move it, even if the water didn’t fully enclose him in its manufactured warmth.

The tile felt especially cold on his feet, but he paid it no mind. He paid no mind to the extra toothbrush by his sink or the dirty towels that littered the floor, either. He’d pick them up tomorrow.

He didn’t pick them up the next day.

Or the day after.

He never moved the showerhead, never threw away the toothbrush, never figured out how to fix his lights.

Sometimes he would come home and not be able to bring himself to mimic his ex-lover’s voice. Some days it was just too much. He would sit in the dark and pretend that he liked it better that way.

One night everything changed.

Kameron had a local gig. Some bar around the corner that she had agreed to ages ago. It was a small affair, something to get her back on her feet. It felt good, Dane had to admit, Kameron always felt good, like an old friend.

She performed her heart out, channeled her pain in the form of an extra toothbrush into a performance that ranked in her top ten.

Dane was buzzing after the show, his fellow sisters complimented him, the ones that knew about the breakup gave him sad but knowing smiles.

“The first one back is always the hardest.” Asia had told him.

And it had been hard, it had been hard in all the same ways it had been incredible.

Dane checked his phone. He had three missed calls from Asia and one voicemail that he couldn’t make out over the pounding music from the club speakers. He shrugged and motioned for another shot from the bartender. He’d ask her about it tomorrow.

Only when he turned around to face the rest of the club did his eyes meet familiar brown ones.

Jose was watching him over the crowd, which was impressive given his height.

Dane broke eye contact as soon as his brain made the connection.

What was he doing here? There was literally no reason for him to be here. Dane agreed to this gig precisely because it was so small. This wasn’t a coincidence.

Dane downed his shot and another without thinking.

When he turned around, Jose had moved from his spot on the wall and was getting closer.

Dane turned back to the bar and gripped the wood with his whole hand, knuckles white, mind spinning due to the proximity to his ex and the added liquor. He braced himself for the tap on his shoulder or the familiar voice, but it didn’t come. He turned around slowly. Jose was nowhere to be seen.

Dane exhaled and made his way to the exit, stumbling occasionally. He couldn’t be here anymore. Couldn’t bear to see those deep brown eyes again.

He grabbed his stuff, throwing wigs and clothes into his duffle with little regard for their worth. He would fix them up in the morning. He reasoned with himself.

He pulled out his phone and made his way out of the club through the back door. He was so absorbed in ordering an uber that he hardly noticed the other body making its way back into the club.

The added alcohol made his fall that much more surprising.

In a flash, Dane was on the ground with what he knew was going to be a nasty bump on his head in the morning.

Without thinking, Dane took the hand that was offered to him and tried to right himself. He only succeeded in almost falling over again.

“You okay there, big man?”

Only then did he realize who had helped him up.

Dane yanked his arm back like it burned, and maybe it did.

Jose looked hurt, maybe he was.

The two looked at each other for a moment, all pain and rage, and sadness evident in their eyes.

“Let me help.” Jose finally whispered. “Please.” He added before Dane could snap at him.

Dane didn’t know why he nodded. He wasn’t that drunk.

He knew it.

Jose knew it.

But he found himself nodding anyways, and before he could think, Dane was being led by the hand into a car and hearing his own address out loud. The drive felt like seconds, and Jose’s fingers interlocked with his felt like home.

The stairs were a challenge, but the two, after much finagling and encouragement, managed to get to the door.

Jose let himself into Dane’s apartment without so much as a heartbreak.

He helped Dane out of his shoes and steered the taller man toward the couch to sit down for a moment.

“You gonna get the lights?” Jose spoke softly.

“They don’t work for me anymore. Not since you…” Dane trailed off, not because he didn’t want to offend Jose, but because he didn’t know if he could say it himself. Since you left.

Jose nodded, expression blank. “Then don’t worry ‘bout that now, we gotta get you to bed.”

Dane hummed noncommittally.

Jose pulled Dane up from the couch, and the two came face to face for the first time that night. They were inches apart. Dane knew his breath reeked of booze and longing, but Jose didn’t seem to mind as he instinctively moved closer to the taller man.

“JJ, I-”

Jose winced at the nickname. “No, no, babe, don’t.”

Dane didn’t let it go.

“What happened to us? We were so good once.”

“We not doin’ this now.”

Jose tried to move away, but Dane held fast.

“What were you doing there? Tonight?”

“I was in the area.”

“No, you weren’t.”

Jose sighed. “No, I wasn’t.”

The silence that stretched between them was so quiet it almost screamed.

Dane wanted to shake himself, wanted to say all the things he had rehearsed for this exact moment.

His mouth wouldn’t work.

And as the time stretched on, he started losing hope that it ever would.

Jose shook his head, finally breaking eye contact. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Okay.”

Jose lead Dane to the bedroom with their fingers interlocked. He helped Dane out of his shirt and restricting pants and sat on the edge of the bed as Dane finally laid down.

“You gonna be alright, big man?”

Dane nodded even though he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be alright.

“Good.”

Jose made to stand up, but Dane’s hand shot out to grab his arm. “Don’t go.”

“Babe-”

“JJ, please.”

Jose looked from his ex to the bedroom door then back to his ex.

The pleading in Dane’s eyes should have made him embarrassed, but he couldn’t care about that right then. He just needed Jose to stay.

Jose nodded after a minute and sat back down. “But you gotta promise to go to sleep now, yeah?”

Dane nodded happily and intertwined their fingers again.

“Activia, turn the lights off.”

Dane was out in minutes.

Jose waited a bit longer than strictly necessary to pry his hand out of the older man’s grip, and even then, he waited still. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t know why.

Jose looked up at the ceiling and wondered aloud.

“Alexa, why the fuck is this so hard?’

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

[greatestmanblog]

THE ANTI-VIRTUES OF POSITIVE MASCULINITY

Exploring the different virtues not conducive to the health of your masculine expression. Bolded are the anti-virtues, what follows in the brackets is different insights and distinctions, or other commentary around the theme of the anti-virtue being highlighted. Some food for thought for the manosphere after a longtime.

X - sloth  [sloppy on the outside is sloppy on the inside, clean on the outside is “cream” on the inside;  take it how you want, but one thing is a given—you’ll never meet a man who’s got a great, healthy, powerful self-image of himself that dresses crappy and acts sloppy or otherwise carries himself in a dull manner;  no, a man of true value treats himself as such—in manner, in deed and in virtue…fresh as f*ck]

X - laziness  [“the lazy man walks the same road twice”;  why waste your time and energy?;  value your time and energy (which if you don’t already, I promise you, having a purpose and path of pursuit for your life will definitely make you value your time and energy);  when you do value your life like this, your life begins to take on more power and expression;  every single person who values their life has life valuing them back, watch for this next time you meet such a person, chances are they take a lot of action in their life and have a lot of “rewards” to show for it;  action is what creates your life and living is a ‘verb’ so get moving because your laziness is your self-destruction]

X - entitlement  [does nothing for you and literally robs you of your personal progress;  it’s okay to setup a positive expectation for the way you view things and the outlooks you have on life and the people that you interact with, but never make demands of things that are not yours to begin with nor things that you have yet to earn—it sets up a bad precedent for your own psychology and leads you astray;  you have right to yourself, your thoughts, your actions, your choices, your body, your energy and the things that are generated by all of that, all the rest let it be & let it flow however it wants to;  you have a right to yourself, consume yourself with the knowledge of that and demand the best out of yourself]

X - passivity  [masculinity, the male essence, by virtue is the active principle in life so to allow yourself to be too passive in the way you go about your experience of life is unhealthy to say the least;  you want to stay active, stay in motion, stay flowing with the very juice that makes more of you;  go take the world full-on with the fullness of your desires, dreams, determinations;  there is a notion in sex consciousness that says how a man fucks his woman is how he fucks the world, meaning to say that how you relate to your own sexuality is a direct correlation to how you live your life;  just think about the potential of that one;  chances are that if you are a passive lover as a man then you are probably pretty passive in taking on your dreams and goals and not much is happening to move the needle forward in your life;  your passivity could lead to you being extremely stuck in life, think about it…]

X - immaturity  [is behaving like a child, not to be confused with being playful or spirited, and blaming others for not having your needs being met;  whining, complaining, tantrums, hissy-fits and other self-absorbing behavior is indicative of acting as a child;  to do so as a child is one thing, but to continue this sort of behavior well into your adult years is very unhealthy;  part of being a mature realized adult is working with and knowing the power you do have to make way for yourself and how you want to live;  you only enable your lack of power if you act immaturely;  an adult always takes responsibility for him/herself and are at cause for what’s transpiring in their world]

X - irresponsibility  [is not acknowledging your ability to respond to things in healthy, constructive, empowering manner;  also can be defined as carelessness and a refusal to hold yourself accountable for what you are required to do, whether they are family obligations or personal obligations that you have committed yourself for;  if you give someone your word that you will do something or follow through on some course of action then you better make sure that you are following through on that promise, otherwise you are being irresponsible]

X - irrationality  [lack of clear thought;  easily duped into other people’s ways of thinking;  unoriginal thought;  being a puppet and pawn to other people’s agendas;  hero-worship, to make anyone outside of yourself your hero is to give away your power to an outside source—and giving away your own power by choice is definitely irrational behavior, you are your own hero so step into that;  learn to think for yourself and see through bullshit, including your own delusions;  critical thinking is a must in this day and age of misinformation;  on the opposite end of irrationality is discernment, a discerning man is a wise man indeed, make your eye a discerning one]

X - indecision  [people don’t often waver when they know who they are and where they are going;  when you have deep inner confidence stemming up from the depths of your integrated character, you can quickly make important decisions without looking back on them in doubt and are slow to make a move to reverse those appropriately considered yet quick decisions;  indecision either comes from fear or a lack of trust you have on your ability to make the best decisions for yourself (which begets a weakness of character)—you don’t want that;  have character & be decisive, stand by those convictions unless you realize you were severely off-base (if you were, then immediately decide to course-correct and you’ll come out on top)]

X - dependent  [un-self-sufficient;  your cup is not full so you dip into others cups to fill up your own, which is not only unsustainable but asking for trouble—you’re playing not to lose, which ultimately is playing to lose; depend on yourself and go for the win;  also, dependent behavior taken too far is parasitic behavior, you’re just leaching off of others resources ultimately resulting in lose-lose situations across the board;  the best longterm strategy is developing your own sense of independence in life, work towards it if you are behind the eight-ball, you cannot go wrong]

X - ego/unaware  [closed-minded, narrow-minded, one-sided, unconscious expression of self;  you just don’t want to see yourself, and if you are choosing that then you won’t ever see what you’re made of and what you could set out to achieve;  be brave, see yourself in all it’s facets—the good, the bad, the ugly, the great—it will allow you to see more of life too;  never be afraid of the truth especially of the man in the mirror and what you see reflecting from it;  see it and see everything]

X - sociopathic  [no empathy;  unable to feel self and, by extension, definitely not others;  that is not a good thing and it is very severely damaging of your ability to experience lasting happiness and fulfillment;  cultivate the richness and depth of feeling otherwise you’re just a robot…or a serial-killer;  allowing yourself to feel things including deep pain is invaluable to your growth and your experience of the living world;  feeling is life;  don’t you want to feel alive?;  feel the electricity of the energy pulsing through your veins, the aliveness of your own vitality and strength and purpose…]

X - abusive  [not physically, not emotionally, not mentally, not in any way is a real man about that;  cowards are abusive, not real men;  cowards choose such a demeaning and low route to sustain themselves;  don’t do it to anyone, not even yourself;  respect yourself, create the highest sense of meaning and esteem about who you think you are or want to be—and by default, you’ll automatically bestow that esteem and respect on everyone else;  but first you, create your own deeper, truer sense of self-worth that profound affects how you do everything else]

X - narcissism  [thinking too highly of yourself without consideration for anything else—aka “buying your own hype”;  as a rule, never buy your own hype, it’ll actually keep you stronger as an individual, more even keel and able to act on your own merit, and if you have (the aforementioned) real self-worth then you’d actually have no need to be narcissistic in the first place because the awareness of your true self would govern you, not some false fabricated front of high-value]

X - violent  [be dangerous but never violent—dangerous with your charm, your wits, your ability to observe, your unpredictability, your spontaneity, your sense of humor, your kindness, your character, your physical capacity to exude strength, etc.—and yes, your composure too;  it makes you very dangerous because you then are capable of using your entire being for your highest good in any critical moment of decision-making] [composure makes you very dangerous, never forget that]

X - victimhood  [don’t ever play that card, victimhood betrays you and your power instantaneously;  the second you go there, you lose everything;  victimhood is not manhood;  men take their life by the horns and steer it in the direction of their own choosing;  they accept nothing less than their path and purpose to create their greatest visions in life;  they’re self-empowered and driven to take on the responsibilities that come with the territory of their self-chosen mission in life]

X - lying/deception/cheating  [nothing sinks you faster than the path of dishonesty, in any of its forms;  it is the biggest b*tch move you could ever play and no one does it hurt more than you;  historically, time has always proven that the person lying, cheating, deceiving always ends up on the short-end of the stick and any gains to be had from doing so only result in short term, temporary, minute, fleeting gains aka “fool’s gold”;  you owe yourself the opportunity to fairly play this game of life to the best of your ability—which is immediately disallowed when you lie;  and truth, that is your highest calling card in life, setting out on its path will ultimately be the most rewarding thing that you could do;  truth will always set you apart from the rest because majority of the players in existence don’t choose that;  truth will protect you and shield you against the deceptions of others;  it will illuminate for you a path of your own nobility, whereby it ensures that you almost always win;  one of the biggest platitudes that we’ve all heard is also one of the most evergreen pieces of wisdom you’ll ever receive, don’t discount it because “the truth will set you free”]

I would add that not being grounded, not being present as a man is unbecoming of positive masculinity, but they are either directly or indirectly covered in the commentary that preceded. Many men become unhinged in their development processes because of their failure to adequately ground themselves from the intense heat of the lightning strikes of lessons that life throws at them. Firmly rooting yourself in values and core principles that keep you strong & aware are key to staying centered in any and all adversity that comes your way. Furthermore, your awareness is fed and kept alive by the presence of mind you bring to your life moment to moment. If you are not present to the momentary feedback life continuously gives to you, you will miss more than one point about how you can keep yourself agile enough to constantly keep making progress for yourself in moving forward and rising up in your particular path of greatness.

[homogrimoire-archive]

Five Eye

Five is on a mission for One, and things go well for her. A robot makeover session is a good way to have some fun. However things could be better back home. Four and Dito do not mix well. One is tired.

AO3 Link

Honestly, Five didn’t know why she was here. Didn’t One know that she was a busy woman? Yet, Five couldn’t really refuse her big sister, at least not to her face. She had plans to lie around, hunt for some exotic food, fuck, the usual. But instead, she was in a dreary amusement park sensually slaughtering machines. At first, she loved it They were new opponents, something new to try, even if they were gaudily dressed. The warm and slippery fluids spewed everywhere as she slammed her lance into the last one, a large and rabbit-like machine.

“Oh this metal is SO beautiful!” she said as she picked up a piece. It shimmed a unique rose-bronze. “Ohh!!! ” she moaned. “Dito, carry this around for me. I’m gonna use it for some sexy new armor later. I was thinking of trying a thigh cutout design and─ Oh right, you’re not here. Ugh. One is so gonna have a piece of my mind later. Whatever. I’ll come later for you, my gorgeous shiny thing!” She promised as she set the metal down and made her way up the steps.

She didn’t bother with the machines this time, and they went on with their merry way. They were old news now. Though now, Five found herself appreciating the fireworks. She liked the explosion color, especially the white ones.

“Mmm I JUST love those! I should visit Three and see if she could make some for me. They would be great for starting an event with a bang, a hot and explosive bang〜”

Soon she happened upon a new enemy. This one interested her, with all its balloons and artillery. It gave her an idea.

“When I get back home, I really have to spruce up my soldiers. I mean, how can they be out there killing and protecting me if they aren’t doing it while being sexy?” She made a good point. Why should they hide their delectable bodies so much just because they were fighting? And if she did it all the time, why couldn’t they?

This enemy proved to be more engaging, but no match for Five, her unparalleled stamina, her strength, and her breasts. Though, she was a bit hurt that the machines weren’t staring at them so much.

“Hmph. What kind of stupid do you have to be to not make them capable of admiring breasts such as mine?” she berated. Whoever made those machines was stupid indeed.

“Oh, what’s this?” she wondered as she picked up a semi-sphere shaped object. It was light, and organically shaped and colored. It was a deep black with hard edges, and a lustrous gold in the center. “Mmm, pretty. I could probably have this melted down into something gorgeous!” She stuffed it in a pouch One sent with the letter. The pouch had matched her outfit, so Five decided to keep it. Thankfully, it proved useful, especially with no Dito around to carry things.

She sexily walked up a pair of stairs, swaying her hips and making her breast bounce with each step just in case some cutie saw her. Unfortunately, no cutie saw her. At the top of the steps, she saw a cart waiting on a track.

“Oh yes! A place where I can finally relax. Its hard being the sexiest around.” Five sighed. None of her sisters could ever understand the hardships that came with being the hottest sister. They’d never understand just how much the attention meant to her. Especially since she was the youngest. Just then, as she was laying down, she felt a jolt.

“Ooo, does this thing come with a massage? I hope it hits all the right spots like that one I went to a week ago. Mmmh that guy had hands that worked wonders, and a dick that worked even more〜 Ughh, and his pecs!” she moaned. She began to lower her panties, but stopped when she saw the world flip.

“What?” She got up and looked around her, her hair flying in the wind. “Ohh, this is a riiide.” she realized. She strapped herself in and enjoyed the sights and sounds. She was screaming in ecstasy the whole time, and wasn’t even bothered by the machines shooting their loads at her. If anything, they added to the experience. But sooner than she wanted, the ride came to an abrupt stop and she was thrown off the ride. She landed onto an area below.

“Ooo, a stage! I hope they have a titular show ready for me.” She said as she fixed her breasts. She had hoped they would need a volunteer for the exhilarating activity that was to come.

The red curtains slid away to reveal a machine, one more unique than the previous. This large machine wore a red scrap of fabric as a dilapidated dress, and had a dull metal body hanging from it. It began with a song. It reminded Five of her and her sisters, though it lacked that final thrust that made it a Song.

“BEAUTIFUL! BEAUTIFUL! I MUST BE BEAUTIFUL!!!!!” She screamed.

“Come now, no need to yell. I know a cry for help when I see one, and you need some major help.”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF BEAUTY!?!” She demanded, ready to begin an attack, but holding off just in case the woman before her proved useful. She wasn’t an android. She would be able to sense an android.

“Umm, you’re looking at the definition of beauty. I mean, look at me! Luscious, long hair, sexy face, the most boobalicious tits around, the cutest tummy, a juicy pussy, fat ass, and thick thighs. Who wouldn’t want me?” The machine studied her intently, mesmerized by every curve, and Five ate up that attention. It was only right after all.

“And no offence, but you’re not going to catch anyone’s attention like that. I like the red theme you have going on, but there’s nothing sexy about it. You have to tease your audience with what you have.” she explained. “Show a lot, but cover just enough to keep them thinking about you all day.”

“But, how? I─” The soon to be glamorous machine was interrupted by another crash through the ceiling.

Two real androids burst through, shocked at what they saw: a previously unknown machine decorated with corpses of their fallen comrades, and a woman who violated even YoRHa’S relaxed dress code.

“HER! GIVE ME HER BODY!” Demanded the machine. Five happily obliged. The pretty woman was only held back by her dull clothing, Five had thought as she ogled at her. And the other one was a cutie that reminded her of Dito, but also in rather drab clothing.

“You know, you both would look much better with some nicer clothing.” she advised as she attacked the female android.

“I’ve got you 2B!” shouted the male android as he began the hack.

“Ooohm〜” she mewled. “Naughty naughty. That tickles.” she rushed over to the small, male android and jabbed with her spear, skewering him through his stomach area. “It’s rude to tease a lady like that and not go all the way through with it〜” Five advised with a wink. She heard a gasp behind her.

“9S!” 2B shouted, and screamed as she flew to Five. Five kicked him off her spear and blocked the attack.

“Mmm, you like it rough, hmm?” Five asked as she batted her eyelashes. The android was stronger than expected, but nothing she couldn't handle. Then, she heard something, the beginning of a Song. It was weak, very weak, but a Song all the same. It was the machine in red. To her Song, 2B crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain, trying to resist the song. Five decided to add a little bit of her song to the mix, which sent the surviving android screaming in pain, all before finally saying her final word.

“9... S.....”

“And THAT, is a song. You should work on that, but first, let’s get you dolled up!” she exclaimed as she held up the female android.

-

“Alright Simone! Let me show you just how beautiful you are!” Five happily shouted as she uncovered the mirror. Simone stared at herself in awe.

Her hair was now long, wavy, and a deep black. She wore a red dress. The dress pushed up her breast to make them look bigger, and just barely covered the nipples. A ripple of red trained the back, leaving the front open. The red extended enough to cover her crotch. Black fabric was under the dress, extending all the way down to her ankles, where she wore black high heels. However, some of the black fabric was cut out, revealing the sides of her thighs stomach. Black gloves went all the way up to her forearms.

“I am… Beautiful.” she quietly awed. She focused on the red lipstick she wore, and laughed. “I’m beautiful! I’m beautiful! He will look my way!” She jumped and danced with joy. Five felt… proud. Not just for herself, but for Simone. She wondered if this was why Two wanted children, before she lost her mind and all that.

“Ooo, a special someone? Tell me everything!”

“His name is Jean-Paul. He lives at the village nearby. I just know he will look my way now! He can’t refuse our love now! Thank you!” She turned in the mirror to admire herself.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Us girls help each other out after all. And from one girl to another, some guys are hard to crack. When that happens, just use some of your Song to influence them. A little bit of Song goes a long way!” Five winked.

-

Four showed up at The Land of Seas they day Five left, at the behest of One. She was curious to see just exactly how it ran with someone like Five at the helm. But not just that, she wanted to be there when Five got back, so she could deliver the information to One. She went past the guards and began to make her way to Five’s office, which would no doubt either be lightly used, or have seen things only five and her innumerable lovers had seen, which was a LOT of people.

On her way there, she saw Dito wandering around in the corner of her eye. That was no good, and she quickly ran towards him and dragged him to her office.

“Ow, ow ow, ow, ow.”

“Dito! What are you doing here?!? You’re supposed to be with Five!!!”

“Hello, nice to see you too.” Dito said as he soothed his arm.

“Why the fuck are you here?!?” she demanded to know.

“I don’t know. Should I NOT be here?”

“No! You should not be here! You should be with Five on the mission One assigned to you two! Didn’t you two read the letter I delivered?!”

“Yeah, about that letter… Got kinda… kinda soiled.” he shrugged.

“SHE FUCKED AND RUINED THE LETTER!?!”

“Goddamn woman, no need to shout. I mean what did you expect? This is Five we’re talking about. The ground you’re standing on is filthier than any whore house you can find. It's absolutely disgusting here!” he said with a devious smile on his face.

-

One did not like to be away from the Cathedral City. But, when she heard that the castle at the Land of Seas was seriously damaged, resulting in 106 dead, she knew it was her duty to show up. When she arrived, she gazed upon the ruin, greeted by a bashful Four, a giddy Dito, and Decadus. He was gazing at men smashing up rocks nearby. If there was something One wanted to know, it was why the disciples could be so fucked up. Cent was alright. Annoying, but alright.

“Thank goodness you're here One. Listen, I can Explain, I–”

“No need.” One interrupted. “It’s my fault for even thinking any of this would even work out.” she sighed. “So, what’s the damage?” she said tiredly.

“Well, we lost some records, and this place is obviously trashed, but aside from that and the loss of human life, nothing!” Dito replied all too happily. “Oh, and we also lost a LOT of sex toys and a lot of Five’s wardrobe. I bet Five is just going to love this!” he rubbed in at Four. “I would not go in there though. The dust is enough to get anyone pregnant. Eww!”

One saw Four gag. She did her best to keep a straight face and not laugh. It was sad, but so so funny.

“Yeah. I can imagine. How is the economy, shipping, trading, and all that?”

“In shambles probably. It’s a miracle this land isn’t in poverty. Shame it probably will be now that it’s center of operations is gone. Five really should have planned ahead.” Four was doing her best to save her ass as much as possible.

“Wrong! Believe it or not, Ol’ blubber bags took care of that a long time ago. She got some books on leading a country and actually read them! I didn’t even know she could read. If you want the specifics on how this place runs so smoothly, you’ll have to ask her yourself, cause I hell don’t know.”

“Oh don’t worry. I will.” Four glared at a smiling Dito. One had a feeling this was going to be a looong weekend.

-

One had never wanted to die more than ever. Four was yelling at Dito, because apparently, Four was actually pure evil, and Decadus was testing out the new torture chamber, which she knew she would hear Four complain about later.

“Dito! I’m home!” They all heard, to One’s joy, and the other two's dismay. “Oh, I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s SO much nicer than before. We are going to break it in so good tonight! I learned a lot of stuff from that robot orgy!” She rounded a corner to see her dear sisters One and Four.

“Hello Five.” greeted One.

“Hello Five...” greeted Four with pure malice.

“Four! I told you you should smile more. It’ll give you wrinkles if you frown so much. And One, it’s so nice of you to visit. And here I thought I’d have to go to Cathedral City.”

“There is a reason I’m here, and Four would like to explain that, wouldn’t you Four?” said One.

“Sorry about destroying your old castle.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I was itching for a new look here anyways. Who designed it anyways? I want to thank them personally〜”

“I'm not done.” Four replied angrily, and sighed. “And sorry about the death of some of your servants… and destroying your closet, and destroying all your se-” Four choked, and Dito giggled. She glared at him. “Your se- your sex toys.” She finished as she held back the need to vomit.

“That… Why?” Five asked as her expression saddened. It made Four feel very guilty. She never thought Five could ever make her feel guilty. Five was so sinful, and she was not. Four just didn’t understand it. She saw that Dito had quietly snuck out at some point.

“I said I’m sorry! What more do you want?”

“Will you be with me for the funeral of everyone and everything?” Five asked on the verge of tears. Four hated having to always be a good person.

“Fine.”

“Oh Four, thank you so much! It means the world to me that you’ll be there with me!” Five gleefully said as she drew Four in for a hug. She was not happy to land in Five’s breasts as she jumped up and down with joy. But, One seemed content, so it was good enough for Four.

-

The whole ordeal could have been worse, by Four’s standards. A week of mourning for the old fortress, a week for the clothes, and a week for the sex toys. Four would have killed Five right during that week if One weren’t there. That was probably why she was there in the first place; to make sure she didn’t kill Five. Four wondered how her big sister could sit through all that with a straight face. And then there was a month for the people. That made her feel the most guilty, even if it was filled to the brim with sex stories. Numerous, very detailed, sex stories. Four didn’t even have the energy to berate Decadus for sneaking off to the torture chamber.

“I am so sorry you had to be there One.” Four apologized once they were up in the air with Gabriel.

“Don’t be. If anything, I’m glad. Cathedral City has too much to do sometimes.”

“Well still! The mission was a failure. I should have volunteered to do it in the first place.”

“No, This was a mission only Five could do.” One stated.

“What!? What can she do that I can’t do better for a mission?” Four demanded to know.

“I needed the most human out of us to go on that mission. And believe it or not, Five is the most human out of all of us.”

[bravegirlwrites]

712 More Things to Write About: Take one

What in the actual living hell am I going to write about? I ask myself this each and every time I sit down at my keyboard with the intention to hone my craft and create sheer genius with my words. Write31Days with all its rules and guidelines and structure spoke to me, but it seems when left to express myself freely I nosedive. I’m tired of sitting down to my computer, filled with emotion and experience and the burning, insatiable desire to write but absolutely no clue where to start. So I’m starting here: 712 More Things to Write About, a book by the San Francisco Writers’ Grotto that my brother picked up for me on his last visit to Powell’s Bookstore in Portland. (If you’ve never visited this establishment, OMG you haven't even lived, I swear). Each day that I make time to write, I’m going to randomly select one of the prompts found within it’s pages. There you have it, my new master plan. And since roughly half of them are nothing short of straight up weird (Imagine robots take over the world, and also you’ve just been jilted by a longtime lover. Go.), I’m giving myself the freedom to pick at random a second or third time before settling on one if need be. Drumroll, please…

When did you taste something you thought you hated, only to change your mind and decide you liked it?

Funny how pure coincidence can be timely as hell. I was just watching an episode of Daniel Tiger on PBS Kids earlier today with my two beautiful babes that highlighted this exact topic. Cuddling close, we listened to no fewer than eighteen rounds of the same sing-songy insight that we should all try new foods (specifically vegetables). You know, because they might taste good.

My kids didn’t buy it. I mean, they loved the song, and I’ll never get over the way they shake or nod their little heads in response to Daniel’s questions because why wouldn’t their favorite animated character on TV be talking directly to them? But at three and four years old vegetables of any sort are entirely not their jam. Watching Katarina Kitty Cat turn up her nose at bell pepper slices, only to declare them her new favorite treat once she’s made to try them is not going to change their minds one bit. Nice try, Daniel Tiger. A for effort. Don’t worry, my kids will no doubt remain obsessed with you. Your dad works in a clock factory and you get to ride the trolley all by yourself after all.

When it comes to encouraging my kids to broaden their culinary horizons, it probably doesn’t help that I happen to be a picky eater myself. And by probably I mean I know for sure. I can be quick to give up trying to make them take a teeny taste of the root vegetable medley I made off of Pinterest because it looks gross to me too and the feeling of outright disgust is mutual. I have no problem serving sweet potatoes or broccoli four nights in a row because when you find something you like, why not get comfy and stick to it like glue for the rest of your life? At least that’s my motto. Which may explain why I began my response to this particular prompt with Daniel Tiger and not some real life experience. Embarrassingly enough, I can’t think of a single example of trying a previously eschewed food only to decide I feel differently about it.

I am a grown ass adult so I can be reasonable from time to time. I hate seafood of all kinds, but if I’m invited over to someone’s home for dinner and they serve me blackened salmon, I am going to shovel as many bites as I can stomach into my mouth and then thank them for feeding me. I feel confident in promising this though: the day I decide fish tastes delicious is the day that all of hell freezes over. I have tried sushi many, many times now (funny how everyone thinks I don’t like it because I haven’t tried their special recipe yet) and the last time I tried to choke down a raw bit of tuna with an uncooked quail egg cracked over the top it was just as nasty as I thought it’d be. The same goes for sundried tomatoes, coconut flavored anything (Almond Joy is the lone exception, because duh, candy), honey, tofu and kale. I have tried all of these things more than once and subsequent tastings have done nothing to change my mind.

What can I say, I know what I like. And clearly, what I do not. It’s one of my greatest joys as a grown up, the freedom to eat whatever I want, even if that happens to be an apple with peanut butter for both breakfast and lunch or leftover pizza two nights in a row. I’ve made peace with my pickiness. Sorry Daniel. I’ll keep putting in a good word with the kids though.

[burndownthehousetonight]

((@jack-rabbot had no idea the twist was coming and that made this whole RP so much more enjoyable to write I hope you didn’t mind too badly :P))

Barely two weeks had passed since the question was popped. Thins had felt different between them, now that there was this kind of a commitment behind everything they did. It was hard.

So hard, in fact, they couldn’t even get themselves to buy a ring yet.

“I’m just saving up a little, I promise,” Manic started. He was lounged back on the sofa, one arm wrapped around Jack’s shoulder and the other holding a notepad with rough ideas scribbled on it. Thoughts on their wedding and outfits and everything. “I know you said you don’t want a fancy ring, but I mean... I think you need something nicer than like, a key ring. Or an onion ring.”

The two cuddled up on the sofa, not even watching some old movie Manic had lying around and waiting for some takeout food to be delivered. “Sonia keeps talking about, like, the language of flowers? Do you know what that means? Or like, care?” While things were a bit harder with this new commitment behind them, Jack didn’t care if it was harder, he had Manic and that’s all he cared about. He was nuzzled up to Manic’s side holding onto his lover’s hand and kissed his arm from time to time.

“That’s fair enough Manic, yeh’re doing yeh'r best and that’s all ah can ask of yeh mah beloved.” Jack softly planted a kiss onto Manic’s cheek as the spoke about rings. “Honestly Manic any ring yeh get would be special and wonderful to meh.”

While they talked and Jack continuing to love Manic so much, he replied to the question that was asked about Manic’s sister and the flowers. “Ah think ah heard a little bit about it, isn’t that when certain flowers have certain meanings? Like well all know the rose is something about love right? Ah think its like that, ah’d have to ask her about it.” "Oh my god, do not ask Sonia about it," Manic said with a laugh. "She is the most sentimental girl, she's just gonna drone on and on. Hell, she is droning on and on..." Manic showed Jack the wall of texts he'd recieved from Sonia. Ceaseless text after text of any flower that could so much as breathe near the couple and everything they could ever want to know about it's meaning. "I think I'm gonna tell her to like, chill for ten years." Manic joked. He looked back at the notepad. The two had thrown out ideas fora wedding, albeit very loosely. Vague theme ideas, vague scribbled outfit sketches, nothing of any real substance. He scratched his head again. "Man... We really have no idea what we're doing," Manic admitted with a smile. "I mean, at least I've got you to figure it out with. I mean, Sonia's great, but she was looking for normal wedding musicians, like I'm not gonna be singing! Why wouldn't I sing, ain't a wedding supposed to be personal?" The doorbell rang. "Well right now, we've got a wedding with some pan-asian thai takeout." He said, giving Jack a joking kiss on the nose and standing up to get the door. "Maybe you can try making a dress design that doesn't look like my second grade level scribbles?" “Well it is nice to hear her thoughts about this sort of thing, she probably knows more about planning a wedding then we do.” Jack replied as he looked at the texts on Manic’s phone. He was thinking of asking Sonia for her help on a few things about the wedding, mostly the dress. He tried coming up with ideas, but he couldn’t really think of any good ones. Really the best clothing idea he had was the outfit he wore for Manic on Valentine’s Day.

“A-ah don’t have many ideas to be honest, true and ah have yeh. Well ah’m sure Sonia means well, maybe we could get her help with a band and yeh could be the lead?” Jack suggested as he tried to think of a compromise for Sonia’s and Manic’s ideas. After hearing the doorbell and blushing a little from the kiss, Jack nodded a little. “Okay, ah’ll try.”

After Manic went to the door, he looked at the notebook, thinking of some great idea he could use for the wedding, a completely original dress style. He tried and failed to think of anything, as he was thinking of texting Sonia for her thoughts about it. Even though Jack sent his texts, he didn't get a reply. Sonia must have been away at the moment, leaving him time to think of a dress design. Plenty of time. Too much time... Why was Manic taking so long at the door? It was just some takeout food, he bought that all the time and it never took this long to pay. But the more he looked, the more he realized he wasn't talking to whoever was at the door. Whoever it was, Manic just seemed to be staring at them. "...I heard this song on the radio," they could be heard saying. "Thought I'd check out this place, and..." The closer Jack got, the more apparent it was that Manic wasn't confused, or sad, or happy at the person at the door. He was downright terrified. The specks of emotion flickering across his face reflected many emotions in small amounts, but it always came back to fear. And finally, as Jack got close enough, he could see around Manic and get a goot look at the person at the door. He hadn't ever met them before, but he did have a vague idea of what they would have looked like... "I didn't think you still cared about me," Scourge admitted. "Didn't think you'd want me back." Jack could understand why Sonia didn’t reply, she had her own day, her own plans, heck, she might be planning something for her brother’s wedding herself. While Manic was gone Jack tried to think of some ideas. Should they have a themed wedding, or just a normal wedding but have a themed dress and suit? He did wonder what happened to Manic when he noticed the time go by, he did start to worry a little bit, hoped it was nothing as he got up to check on his future spouse.

Jack wasn’t sure what to think when he saw the person at the door, he kept quiet and stayed out of the way before going back into the main room, what should he do? He thought to himself, should he go back and say something, should he stay out of the way and let Manic sort this out himself? He wasn’t sure what to do, but what he did do was put the notebook full of wedding ideas away somewhere he hoped the hedgehog at the door wouldn’t look. He hid the book behind the couch and hoped for the best. Scourge seemed a bit awkward, coming back at the time he did. "I didn't know you had a friend with you, you want me to...?" "Why are you coming back now." Manic said, briskly. "I thought you'd be too heartbroken to wanna see me again. But that was a real nice song." Scourge looked Manic right in the eyes, Manic's terror having faded into some kind of anger. "Should I leave 'til your friend's gone?" Manic was clearly feeling many things. But he soon stepped backwards, and out of the way. "C-Come in, mate." Jack now had a better view of Scourge. His leather jacket looked kind of like that one Manic would sometimes wrap himself in... but not quite. His chest did bear the usual two scars a Scourge would have. Deep wounds that had long healed, but would never stop being discolored. His eyes looked as though he hadn't slept in a while, but still bore a handsome jaw and a strangely attractive crooked grin. Even through the sleavy mouth and sharp teeth, it was easy to see what could have attracted Manic to him. "This is Jack, he's..." Manic swallowed hard, looking for the right word. He couldn't quite hide just how many intense emotions he was feeling. "He's my current boyfriend." Scourge held out his right hand. Now that both hands were out of his pockets, Jack could see that he was missing both of his middle fingers. "You're his new guy?" Scourge said, in amused disbelief. "Normally, he goes after trashy guys~" Jack listened to what was being said at the door, worrying more about Manic than anything else. When Scourge was invited inside the rabbit gulped quietly as he saw Manic’s ex. Jack couldn’t help but feel a jealous and nervous of Scourge, that strong body, handsome looks and he had all his limbs. Jack stayed quiet until Manic finally came out and said to Scourge who Jack was.

After listening to Scourge, Jack spoke up seeing his fingers missing but didn’t say anything about it. “Y-yes, a-ah’m Manic’s boyfriend, it’s nice to meet yeh Scourge.” Jack said, doing his best not be so nervous and to keep things calm between Manic’s future spouse and his ex. Scourge shook his natural hand, clearly noticing the robotic limbs but not saying a word. Scourge looked over the small apartment with mild concern. "How long have you lived here, babe?" He asked. Babe? It was clear where Manic picked that up from. "Two years," Manic replied simply. "I thought you wanted to meet me here- In case anything...!" He was starting to crumble, and Scourge definitely noticed. "Ah, don't cry 'cause I showed up." He said, wrapping both of his arms around Manic and holding him closer to his chest. "You think some garbage off the streets is worth your time? Cause you might be right~" "Why... Why the fuck did you come back now?!" Manic said as tears started to bubble. "It was two years, babe. I've been loving you- I wanted you back for two years!! Where did you go?!" Now that he was held against Scourge's chest, familiar memories came back to him from the familiar hold. Scourge tried to move him too the couch, just barely making it by the time Manic caved in completely. Scourge held his old boyfriend as he sobbed into his chest, the tears running down Scourge's scarred chest. Scourge didn't say a word in response, letting Manic cry as much as he wanted. "Hey, Jack." Scourge said, motioning for the rabbit with his free hand as he pet Manic's back. "Can you help me calm him down?" After shaking Scourge’s hand, Jack stayed quiet and let him and Manic speak and say whatever then needed to say. He didn’t know what he could add to this, they knew each much longer then he knew Manic. Even so, it was him that Manic asked to marry, but if Manic was still dating Scourge then wouldn’t Manic do the same for Scourge? Jack didn’t want to feel doubt about this, so far Scourge seemed like an okay guy and Jack didn’t want to be jealous of him.

Jack could only watch as Manic spoke and slowly caved as he started to cry while Scourge held him close. When called to, Jack nodded a little and sat next to them, holding one of Manic’s hands gently, unsure of what to do or say. He’d never seen Manic like this before. “I-it’s okay Manic, we’re here, everything’s going to be okay.” Jack gently held his boyfriend’s hand as Scourge gently petted his back. Jack felt a bit useless as he couldn’t think of anything he could say or do to help calm Manic down. This feeling of uselessness was mutual. Scourge wasn't entirely sure what he could do, either. Hell, even Manic couldn't. He wanted to cuddle up with Scourge, punch Scourge, kiss him, hold onto Jack while he let the facts sink in. Instincts told him to do so many things, but all he could manage was clutching at Scourge's chest on his old sofa and crying. But the gentle hand hold and soft words from Jack were enough to get him to calm down, just a tiny bit. "I- I know," Manic stuttered, lying through his teeth. "I'm just so- much. I feel so much." He said ineloquently, his stream of tears starting to slow down slightly. Manic held Scourge closer, clutching to Jack's hand tighter. He didn't want to make Jack a third wheel, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away after they'd been apart for so long. As though he feared the moment he would pull away, Scourge was going to simply vanish into thin air once again. "You're gonna be okay, punk," Scourge flirted at him. His voice was romantic, but in a sleazier sense. "I ain't leaving... I ain't leaving you again. I ain't leaving." He cooed again and again. He rotated Manic around so he was sitting between Jack and Scourge, one arm draped over Manic's waist. "An' now you've got two strong boyfriends to protect you~" The attractive grin and horribly cheesy line were enough to get a sad chuckle out of Manic, as he tried to stop crying, letting Scourge hold onto him. "Uh, Jack... I don't wanna- I know we've talked about this, but I don't wanna cheat on you." Fear was audible in his voice. "I'm terrified, dude." Jack stayed close to Manic as he let his boyfriend squeeze his hand as tightly as needed. He didn’t or couldn’t do much else as Scourge spoke to Manic. They did talk about this before about how Manic still cared for Scourge, Jack didn’t mind, he just wanted what was best for Manic. As Manic turned and spoke to him Jack held onto his hand as he replied.

“Manic, all ah want is for yeh to be happy, ah don’t mind at all, if this is what yeh want then that’s fine with meh, ah love yeh no matter what and as long as yeh are happy then ah am too.” Jack gently kissed manic’s hand as he held onto his lover’s hand and stayed close to him to comfort him as best as he could. Manic listened, and nodded. He wasn't sure if the relief he felt was appropriate, but he felt at least a tiny bit better. Enough to fight off the tears for a little longer. "Yeah, I-" He wiped away some of the tears, bringing back his usual smile. "I know you do. Sorry, mate, I'm... ..." He would have just been reiterating the point. So Manic decided not to, instead leaning over and kissing him gently on the cheek. Scourge seemed amused. When Manic noticed his glare, he laughed to himself. "Don't be sleazy- you know you can just ask, babe." Scourge leaned over and gave Manic a firm kiss on the lips. Manic was almost in disbelief at first, but getting to feel his sharp teeth again was rocketing his mind through time and reminding him of many pleasant memories. He caved instantly and let Scourge hold him. They barely realized how much time was passing until Scourge looked up at Jack again. "You mind giving us some space?" He said to Jack, not taking off that flirting voice or keeping his eyes off Manic. "We're gonna be here a while." "The night was awkward for all three. Scourge not quite knowing what to think of Jack, Manic not knowing what to think at all, but worst of all, Jack being forced to think many of the same things and take a long walk of shame back home for the night. "Manic, it’s okay, ah love yeh no matter what.” After the kiss on his cheek Jack gently nuzzled Manic while he held onto his lover’s hand softly. Jack was pushed back a little as Scourge kissed manic on the lips, he couldn’t help blush a little but felt pushed aside as the kiss took longer then expected. “O-oh, okay then, see yeh soon Manic.”

Jack left the two alone as he slowly made his way back home. He was definitely feeling pushed aside and outclassed by Scourge, would Manic and Scourge get back together? What’s going to happen between Jack and Manic? He felt a little heartbroken, it wasn’t that long ago since Manic asked Jack to marry him, but now he was forced to walk back home late at night by Manic’s ex.

He eventually made it back home and flopped on his bed. He left his phone next to the bed, hoping Manic would let him know that he was okay as he just lay there, feeling replaced by the rugged, handsome ex. By the time he would come to that next morning, He would have three texts. The first seemed to be a random series of hearts, sent shortly after midnight. The second was a rather vague, "I still love you, baby," sent barely a minute later. The final was sent mere moments before Jack woke up. "I'm filling in for someone at work today," Manic started, "I need some space to think. We slept together, Jack. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop myself. We were together for so long, I had to. I'm so goddamn sorry." What Jack couldn't see at this point was a few minutes ad Manic actually debated sending this, deleting this and retyping it, immediately followed by crippling regret.

His phone buzzed soon after Manic's last message. "You left your wallet at my place. I can call Scourge over to your house if you're fine with it, he said he wanted to talk to you. He won't hurt you, promise." Jack had a bit of trouble sleeping that night so when he did wake up and looked at the messages on his phone, he had to rub his eyes a little so he could read them properly. The lack of sleep was most likely a result of the events the night before, and seeing the text of Manic and Scourge sleeping together didn’t help. He knew he said he didn’t mind and he truly did want Manic to be happy, he just couldn’t help but feel a replaced, as if he was just a stand in until Scourge came back.

After seeing the last two messages, Jack slowly typed into his phone as he wrote his reply. "It’s okay Manic, as long as you’re happy then that’s all that matters. Okay that’s fine, I’m not going anywhere today, so he can come anytime.” Jack sent his message and waited for Manic’s reply. His reply was almost immediate. "I love you." Nothing more, nothing less. Sunrise soon passed into late morning. Two sharp knocks at the door indicated exactly who Jack expected was at the door. Sure, he wore a slightly different shirt and pants, but it was the same leather jacket as the day before. Seemed Manic wasn't joking when he said Scourge always wore it. He extended his right hand, this time holding Jack's wallet. Despite the circumstances, Scourge didn't seem angry at Jack, or even jealous. But then again, he was Manic's lover for much longer. "Sorry 'bout pushing you out last night." He said. "Y'know, Manic kept talking about you. Said you're a fun kid. How 'bout we hang out and try and share him, eh? He's enough for both'a us. Mind if I come in?" He asked, already walking in. Jack was already up and dressed by the time Scourge came. Jack didn’t wear much, just a plain shirt and some shorts to cover himself enough for the guest that was coming. Jack was a little nervous of how Scourge might be feeling about him, but was glad that he seemed okay. Jack took his wallet as he listened to what Scourge had to say before he tried to answer as Scourge let himself in.

"I-it’s fine, don’t worry about it, u-um sure, come in.” Jack was still a little unsure, but as long as Manic was happy then that was enough for him. He wasn’t expecting Manic to speak about him while with Scourge, he wondered what else Manic might’ve said about him as he shut the door and followed Scourge as he let the bigger male into his home. Scourge didn't go too far in, just looking over the living room and sitting down on the couch in the entry room. "Cute place," he said simply. He motioned for Jack to sit down somewhere as he put a water bottle down on the coffee table. "Guess I came outta nowhere and ruined all this shit, huh?" He sounded happy as he said that, not quite seeming to regret his actions. "Sorry. But hey, if he's got two lovers, he'll be twice as happy, eh? Don't know what you're saying to him, but he really loved you." "Manic told me all about you. He said he was gonna marry you... congrats." His tone was more serious. "Manic's a rare guy. Didn't think you'd be his type... didn't even think he'd be your type." Another grin, and another flash of those sharp teeth. "Though I really shouldn't be his type, neither." Jack sat down not too far from Scourge as he sat down on the couch. "I-it’s fine, it’s no problem at all.” Jack replied, trying not to let Scourge’s attitude about the situation get to him. After hearing the next sentence, Jack was slightly relived to hear nothing much had changed between them besides Scourge being there now. “W-well ah love him too, there isn’t anything that could change that.” Jack said before going a little pale and gulping quietly as Scourge mentioned manic and the marriage.

“T-thank yeh.” Jack was feeling nervous again from the serious tone of Scourge’s voice, was he planing something? Did he disprove of the idea? Jack listened to what was said and thought, it was true that someone like Manic could do better then him, but they both loved each other so it worked out right? Jack gulped once more as he saw the sharp toothed grin, a very faint blush came to his face as he could see why Manic was attracted to him. Scourge and Manic would usually love teasing people and watching them blush. Scourge just laughed and smiled at all the blushing from Jack. "Heh, you act like I'm gonna bite your head off," he said. "I ain't TOO violent anymore. Just 'cause I ain't an angel don't mean I'm gonna slice people up!" He leaned back and smiled. "There're crimes that ain't gonna hurt anyone too badly. Crimes with that same thrill. You know Manic loves robbing places, too, I just come along and... see what happens~" Scourge noticed the immediate shock. But to Jack's knowledge, he was just a pickpocket. "Ah, come on, you know this face, don't you? Anti-Mobius most wanted, committed a huge robbery, two million richer for it? Manic said that's the only reason he knew I was alive." Jack wasn't getting more comfortable as he spoke. "You knew, didn't you?" Jack tried to stop blushing and failed as Scourge laughed. Jack shifted about in his seat as Scourge made his comments while Jack hoped Scourge was joking for a lot of his comments. Jack knew about the pickpocketing, while he didn’t fully approve of it, he understood it was who Manic was and tried to at least point Manic in the right direction. Jack wasn’t aware of Manic just full out robbing places. Pickpocketing was one thing but full on robbing?!

Jack was indeed getting a little more uncomfortable as he tried to wrap his head around this new information. He knew about Scourge and that didn’t bother him, it was what Manic was doing in secret that put him into question, was he out robbing right now? Jack shook his head a little to answer Scourge’s question without saying anything. Scourge knew he'd crossed a line. That look in Jack's eyes wasn't the normal worry Jack had been feeling, this was fear. "Mmm." Scourge grunted out simply. He didn't want to look too soft, but didn't want to be completely cold, either. "Don't let it get to you, he doesn't tell most people." Scourge admitted as he took a drink of water. "He's an indie musician and a session player, ain't like he's doing bad for himself." But these realizations just raised more questions for Scourge. "Does he even still rob people any more...?" He mumbled. But he'd seen Manic's little stash of small valuables. Manic was still up to his old games. "You alright?" He said bluntly, looking over to Jack and seeing he was very clearly not alright. "Ain't that big a deal, is it? It's just property crime." Jack wasn’t sure what to say about Scourge’s comment. Of course Manic wouldn’t tell people he robs places, that would be the fastest way to get arrested.  Jack hoped after hearing the next sentence that Manic’s music career would be enough to stop him robbing places. Jack thought to himself a little, not hearing what Scourge was mumbling as he once again shifted a little in his seat.

“A-ah’m fine thank yeh, ah thought it was kind of a big deal, h-how can yeh say this isn’t a big deal? Manic could get hurt or arrested for that.” Jack replied not understanding why Scourge just didn’t seem to care about the seriousness of the subject. Scourge laughed. He always loved whenever someone would ask it like that. "You ain't been there with him when he got into the bigger stuff," Scourge said, clearly amused and ready to start telling the story. "You know Rouge? Master jewel thief? You know Nack, master hunter 'n thief? Manic knew THEM. He learned from the best. Difference is, they don't know shit about hacking security systems, they always needed his help. An' he had a real strong boyfriend who could deal with anyone~" he said with a coy grin. "He's not gonna get caught. He's unstoppable." He could see the mild attraction in Jack's eyes. Maybe he could play with that. He lifted Jack's chin with one finger, until he was once again staring at that sharp smile. "How about you come with us sometime? We'll pull off a real big heist, an' you can watch the whole thing. You'd be amazed... he's a master." Jack wasn’t sure if this was something to just laugh about, it was serious crimes after all but he stayed quiet and listened as Scourge went on. Jack had heard about Nack and Rouge before, he did wonder and worry a bit about Manic’s safety as he would do for someone he loved very much. Jack didn’t know if this was a good thing or not when listening to Scourge boasting about how good a thief Manic was.

Then Jack stopped thinking about all that as Scourge lifted his chin with just a finger, his face blushing more then before as Scourge played with his feelings. The rabbit couldn’t stop blushing as he was made to look at that smug grin, staring at those sharp teeth left the rabbit’s face red. He tried to shake his head and deny the offer but there was something about the rugged male that made it hard for Jack to resist him. Hm? He was expecting him to say "maybe," or "I guess just once," but this was much more intense than that. He was hoping that Jack was going to agree to come long for a theft, not cave into his charms. Scourge removed his finger from Jack's chin and leaned back, not taking off his smile. "They're nice teeth, ain't they?" He said, making a show of running his tongue over those pointed teeth. "Me an' Manic were open, y'know. But I'm not gonna step in between you two. You're too cute together... Maybe he could take some tips?" Scourge knew exactly what he was doing when he shifted his position to show off his chest a little more. "Learn how to really make you melt?" Scourge laughed and stood up, picking up his water bottle. "How about you talk with Manic first?" He said, clearly getting ready to leave. "I'm gonna go train. Besides, now ain't the time for this stuff. Guessing you've got a lot to tell Manic, huh?" He finished off his little teasing with one more lick over the tips of his teeth as he headed out the door. "And when you wanna do a heist with us... we're always open~" The door closed, leaving Jack alone with all this new information about Manic... and Scourge. Jack didn’t want to encourage their thieving behaviour, but it was getting hard for the rabbit to think straight as he was being tempted by the rugged, taller male. Jack did his best to try and resist his charm, he did it for manic, he did it for the person he loved above all else, he didn’t mind if Manic and Scourge slept together but he didn’t want to do anything like that with the other male if it meant it might hurt Manic.

Jack nodded a little shyly at Scourge’s question as he listened and stared at Scourge’s body as the other male moved up and showed off his chest. Jack’s face was bright red as he felt warm staring at Scourge and listened to his words. Jack thought Scourge was going to do something more then just tease him before the other male laughed and got up, saying what he wanted and left Jack alone. Jack didn’t know what to feel as he sat there, he covered his face with his hands as he felt attracted to Scourge and ashamed for it, as even though nothing much happened, he felt he let himself and Manic down in some way. He was going to have to be left with those thoughts for a while longer. Manic would have said he had to leave immediately if he knew Jack was feeling bad, but he couldn't have. He had too much to think about himself. What waas he going to have to do about this situation? The only way to know was going to be talking to Jack and Scourge. He couldn't come to a solution on his own, but that didn't stop him from trying. He didn't head home when he was done. He took his time, stopping at a grocery store to pick up some stacks, going for a short walk, buying more time. When he'd decided he'd wasted enough, he didn't drive home still. He went straight for Jack's house. Scourge was a strong guy who could carry tons of guilt and shame on his back and keep it together. Jack was not as strong, and Manic knew he was going to need some cuddling. They both needed some cuddling badly. It was doing to be good for them both? "Jack?" Manic said, as he opened the front door. Jack was nowhere to be seen. "Jack, are you here? I, uh... We've gotta talk, dude." The entire day Jack was thinking of what was said, what had happened and the situation between Manic and Scourge, how it affect Manic and Jack and his slow but surely growing feelings towards Manic’s ex. He hated how he couldn’t stop thinking about that moment, he should���ve been able to just say no without it going further then that but he couldn’t, he did mange to deny the offer of a heist but he let Scourge’s teasing and flaunting get to him. He wanted to stay loyal and true to Manic without fail, he still was but it was hard not to ignore what had happened.

Besides that, he was thinking how was all this going to work out, he hoped that the best case would be that he and Manic would get married. He knew that now Scourge was here he wasn’t leaving, and he hoped that Manic would still love him while getting back together with Scourge in a way. Jack didn’t mind that, but he did feel like he wasn’t good enough for Manic now that Scourge showed up. He wasn’t half the man Scourge was. Scourge let Manic indulge the thrill he got when robbing and doing heists, Jack didn’t even know until today. Jack wouldn’t dare do half of those things, he didn’t want Manic to either for fear of Manic getting hurt or worse.

The feeling of him being replaced by Scourge was growing more and more as he thought more of it. While Jack did his best to make Manic happy he couldn’t give him that kind of thrill, that sin that drove him. He was at home but he was in his room, laying in bed with his thoughts as Manic arrived. “A-ah’m here Manic.” Jack replied feeling nervous of what would be said between them. Manic slowly entered the house, and creaked the door open. "Hey, babe..." Manic walked up slowly, like he was approaching a frigthened animal. "I'm sorry about last night, and this morning, and... I'm sorry." He sat down next to Jack, putting his hand on his partner's. "I can't say I don't have feelings for him, Jack. I still love him, I didn't have a choice, but-" He sighed and leaned over, pulling Jack into a hug. "I do love you jack. I really do. But I thought Scourge really was gone for good. If he's here, I-" It wasn't going to help to put it off. "I can't marry you right now. I promised myself I'd marry Scourge if he ever came back, but I can't stay true to that, either. I love both of you so much, I want both of you to be happy. I want both of you to know I love you." His hold was getting slightly more intense as he spoke. "And I'm not gonna make either of you think I love someone else more." Se sat with his head on Jack's shoulder, nuzzling into the fur of his neck. "Scourge told me... you know about my other job." He said, fear in his voice. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Is this going to hurt... us?" “H-hi Manic.” Jack said as he watched Manic enter the room and sat next to him. “I-it’s fine, p-please don’t worry about it.” Jack listened to Manic as he held his partner’s hand. Jack listened and flinched as he was pulled into the hug, he hugged back as he heard that one sentence that hit him hard. He felt heartbroken as he did his best to hide it from Manic, he hugged Manic a little more as he bit his lip and listened to Manic’s words, the marriage is off? Just like that? Granted they had only started to plan it but still, did that moment mean nothing to Manic then? Jack thought, feeling hurt. Did anything Manic said back then mean anything? If all it took to cancel it before it happened was Scourge then was Jack just a stand-in for Scourge until he came back?

Everything else that happened that day felt like nothing compared to this. Jack did his best to keep it to himself as he hugged Manic as he replied. “O-okay manic, a-ah love yeh too.” Jack wasn’t sure what to think or believe as he spoke. When Manic nuzzled his neck and asked about what Scourge had told him, Jack nuzzled back a little before speaking. “W-well, ah can’t say it’s something ah would do, b-but it’s yeh, it’s who yeh are, j-just promise to be safe okay?” Jack said hugging Manic once, doing his best to not just break down in front of Manic there and then. "You're heartbroken, aren't you." Manic leaned back and looked into Jack's eyes, not needing an answer. "You know... Marriage is about telling the world you wanna be with someone forever, right? I do want to stay with you, I just- I can't marry one of you and not the other. And polygamous marriages aren't... well, legal." There was a torn look in Manic's eyes. "I don't have a choice, babe." Anxiety was creeping through his voice again, causing light cracks. "You just want me to be happy and safe, I get it, I don't want to- make you sad-!" Tears were already welling in Manic's eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Jack, holding him passionately and letting his tears stain Jack's soft fur. "This isn't going to change my feelings for you. Not a bit." He said as he pulled away for air. "It'll still be me and you forever... right?" Jack flinched at Manic’s words, was he that easy to read? He did his best to hide it and Manic still saw through it. Jack listened to what Manic said and felt worse then before, it wasn’t Manic’s fault this had to be, he loved both Jack and Scourge. Jack wouldn’t have minded if he wanted to marry Scourge as well but it was as manic said. As Jack saw Manic tear up he did as well, he did his best to stay strong for that long, but seeing his partner break down left the rabbit in tears as he held onto Manic tightly.

His tears staining Manic’s fur as Manic’s stained Jack’s fur. As they kissed, Jack held onto Manic tightly, not wanting to let him go. Once they broke for air Jack nodded a little. “Y-yeah, a-as long as yeh’re happy then ah am.” He replied, tears still running down his face as he hugged Manic once more as his tears stained Manic’s shirt as he held onto his beloved partner. He didn't want Jack to see him crying. He didn't want to tear Jack apart. He could normally hide his tears. Why couldn't he hold these back? His grip on Jack was just as much for emotional support as it was for physical. Manic's arms wrapped around Jack's head and let him sob onto his shirt, Manic's own tears already going after the short burst. There was more Manic wanted to ask, more he wanted to clear up, but Jack needed a chance to cry, and Manic was happy to provide it. So the two laid down next to each other, Manic cradling Jack's head and petting his soft fur as he hummed out a gentle melody. He let the sobs mellow out as he purred out a simple, soft lullaby. "You know, I have been trying to ease off," Manic said eventually. "I'd steal to pay bills or buy food, but every cent I earned honestly was yours. All those jewels and clothes and those kinky toys, they were all bought honestly." Another kiss. "I'd buy you anything to make you smile. We could still buy you an engagement ring, if you want. And if you didn't mind... I could steal you any jewel you want. I'll get you whatever it wants, I just wanna prove nothing's different. I just want you to be certain I'm still loyal to you. You’ve been so loyal to me through this all..." Jack held onto Manic tightly as he sobbed onto Manic’s chest. He didn’t want to let Manic go now that he had his beloved all to himself. He stayed close and nuzzled Manic’s hand as Manic petted him as he slowly calmed down. Jack listened as Manic spoke, he knew he couldn’t stop Manic from stealing, it was who he was, and Scourge would probably tempt him into doing more, but he was happy that Manic only did it a few times. “A-a ring sounds nice, I-if yeh could get meh a jewel c-could it be the same colour as yeh'r eyes please?” Jack asked gently kissing Manic’s lips after making his request.

He didn’t want to encourage Manic to stealm but right now he just wanted to be with manic and let him do what makes him happy. It would be nice to have a jewel like that, as it would always be like looking into Manic’s eyes when Jack would look at it. Jack thought a little about what Manic said about him being loyal and what happened with Scourge, he wanted to tell Manic now while it was only just harmless teasing before it got serious. “U-um Manic? T-there is something ah need to tell yeh, I-it’s about Scourge, a-ah don’t know if it’s him or what he’s doing but he reminds meh of yeh a little and a-ah’m scared t-that ah see why yeh’re attracted to him.” "I'm flattered," Manic said, cuddling up against Jack. Manic didn't seem broken up about this. Actually, he seemed quite amused. "He's a real exciting guy, ain't he? And his looks don't hurt, either~" He pulled away, smiling warmly at Jack. "Hey, we've always had an open relationship. Me and him, I mean. I always knew he loved me, we both knew nothing would change that. So if one of us ever wanted to go out with someone or give someone a smooch, we'd tell each other and do it. We just wanted to see each other have our fun, we knew it wasn't going to change anything between us." He kissed Jack on the forehead. "If you're attracted to him, I'm not gonna stop you. I didn't mean you're exclusive to me, I meant you're loyal to me. I know you care about me... you can care about anyone else, too, as long as you tell me." Manic's grin was turning more goofy, as though he hadn't been crying only a few minutes before. "What, was Scourge teasing you? You want me to bop him on the head for you?" His goofy offer was still a little serious. Jack nuzzled up to Manic’s chest as they cuddled. Jack was a bit nervous of Manic’s reaction to what he said about Scourge, but after listening to what he said lifted a lot of weight off. At least Jack knew that if Scourge’s teasing did lead to them sleeping together at least Manic wouldn’t mind. Jack still loved Manic with all his heart and he always will, but he couldn’t help but feel attracted to Scourge. At least now he didn’t feel as guilty about it. “T-that’s okay thank yeh Manic, ah think ah can manage.” Jack replied, kissing Manic’s cheek softly as he laid next to him and nuzzled up more.

Jack was still a little unsure about a lot of things, Scourge, his feelings for him, Manic stealing, the marriage being cancelled. But at the very least if there was something Jack could be thankful for, it was that he loved Manic and Manic still loved him, and if things went well with Scourge maybe all three of them could be happy together. Even if they weren’t married, they could still live together, love each other and so on, Jack held onto that hope as he cuddled Manic stayed close in his arms. Manic was feeling more comfortable too. He didn't have to worry about half as many things as Jack did, true, but he was happy. Manic just laid down and showred Jack in love and attention. "I'll get you the biggest gem I can find," Manic promised. "You want something gold like my eyes? That only really leaves Topaz if you want me to buy it. I could get you some yellow sapphire or yellow diamond, but only if you don't mind me getting it a bit more... illicitly~" He rolled Jack over and sat up over him, smiling. "I know this is all tearing you up, but... we're getting somewhere, right?" He said. "I have an idea, let's pick up Scourge, and all head out. Get a little dinner together and talk things over. I wanna make you both happy... And I've got so much to figure out myself." He pulled Jack in close, but didn't get sultry, only romantic. "No one'll stop the three of us together. We could rule the world together... But you already have total control over me~" “Ah don’t mind Manic, as long as it’s as beautiful as yeh'r eyes then ah’m happy.” Jack replied returning the affection as he planted soft loving kisses on Manic’s cheeks. While he was still unsure of things at least he and Manic were happy for now. He held onto Manic as he rolled over and looked up to Manic as he spoke. “Y-yeah, we are.” Jack replied and listened to Manic’s idea. “If yeh want to then yeah that’s a good idea.”

Jack blushed a little as he was pulled close, he wrapped his arms around Manic and stayed as close as he could. “And yeh have total control over meh mah beloved, ah love yeh Manic, more then anything.” After that Jack gave Manic one last loving passionate kiss on the lips before spending the rest of their time at his house cuddling and giving each other small kisses before going out to pick up Scourge. Jack's presence had helped him calm down a lot, so by the time they finally got to pick up Scourge, he was visibly more comfortable. He'd run through things in my mind plenty of times, he was ready. "Come on, guys," Manic started, "we need to talk... ..."

[danvssomethingorother]

Up For Adoption (Story Two)

As I explained in my previous post, I am putting a bunch of stories up for adoption to go to writers who will be nice enough to finish them. I’m not giving up writing or leaving GF, I’m just trying to recycle and make it easier for me to find stuff on my flash drives without these old files getting in the way.

Please contact me if you wish to finish them! I would love to see what you do with my half complete stuff! Or just enjoy my leftovers. 

This one is a half done piece I was gonna do for the fiddedel AU but kept forgetting and putting it off and just don’t feel like getting back to it but still like the idea.

The basic premise is (without talking about the Fiddeldel which you can find more of on the @fiddledel blog) Fidds meets Stan in an illegal robot fighting ring, they fall in love, live homeless together and then go to work with Ford. They both get cast into the portal and Stan dies protecting Fidds on the other side. I think I planned ciphford abuse to be a major subplot but if you adopt don’t feel obligated to put abuse in your story.

---

The first thing Fiddleford always recalled about the day he met Stan was the heat. It was mid-July in Georgia, a little outside Atlanta. Even hours after the sun had fallen, it was sweltering.

It was un-air-conditioned in the warehouse that had been sloppily been reupholstered into a fight arena.  

Fiddleford groaned, shimming out of his jacket and tossing it on a vacant fold up chair and rolling up his sleeves. He’d thought his finest disco suit that kept him cool on the dance floor would be fine out here but it seemed he was mistaken.

He tried to keep his sights on the ring where his brother was getting annihilated, he couldn’t watch as the other man’s machine demolished his robot. Calling it a ‘Shame Bot’ may not have been his best choice, he thought it would put the completion to shame not his own engineering skills.  

He watched the competitor’s robot, the Skull Crusher he believed it was called, use its large hands to begin compacting the head he’d worked two weeks to sculpt and weld just right and endless hours to give him the appropriate scowl and war paint. His saw hands worked in vain to hack off the appendages crushing in his skull, oil leaking out and sparks flying as it took its final breaths on the battle ground.

He wouldn’t watch the final blow and turned away from bell announcing his creation’s death and the crowd erupting around the arena only consuming the spectacle and not feeling the failure making its course deep inside him. All that time, money and potential squandered.  

 “You look like someone I saw on TV is all,” Fidds responded because it would be very rude to say the only reason he was staring at the stranger was because of his uncanny resemblance to a man he had unrequited love for.

---

(Stan questioning why Fidds continues to stay after he almost got killed by Rico, Fidds catching them a possum for dinner and Stan affectionately calling him possum breath.)  

This life was not an easy one. Five months after their meeting and they were already hitting a rough patch in their life they had settled in together.

---

A disgusting motel that had cockroaches visibly swarming across the walls was not a place Fidds would have called comfortable five years ago but this was paradise compared to being cramped inside the Stan mobile for days on end. The car may be cleaner but the cool blow of the A/C, the coffee machine and the indoor plumbing were the closest they had come to wealth in ages since Rico had made certain they could never show their faces in an underground event again.  

Thoughts of how the future would play out left Fiddleford’s stomach in knots and even a warm shower couldn’t completely calm them but what surprisingly did was working. It was true he likely would never craft another robot again but lately that wasn’t what he wanted to work on. He had an entire work book filled to the brim with designs for something that would shake the fabric of the world as they knew it. It would dawn a new era in the scientific community as well as the way the masses entertained themselves.

He remembered long nights sitting up in the car excitedly explaining his plans for the future to Stan who was trying to get some sleep in the back seat and kept grumbling at him to turn the overhead light off.  

He would talk for what felt like hours about how this would change them, there would be no need for crime, neither would ever have to go hungry again, they would be able to live an easy life from now on with no more worries. Stan would always give him a skeptical look at those promises. Both were very used to making and braking these same promises.

Stan would often groan he would get him his ‘nerd shit’ if he would just turn out the lights and come to ‘bed’. To Fiddleford’s surprise, he actually did collect material for him at the expensive of their last hundred dollars even, just to help him complete his goal and prove to him he would meet him half way on his endeavor to stop this life of crime that was slowly killing both of them in its own ways.

He looked up from his work and smiled at Stan who to no surprise wasting no time stripping down to his underwear after his daring task of collecting all the change Fidds had been saving in the jars in the trunk (Fidds never felt right about pick pocketing and would rather they use their own money as much as possible even if it meant picking up every cent he could find) and paying for their hotel and a feast of cheap pizzas from the edible but probably not that sanitary restaurant across the street.

Stan flopped back and offered Fidds a piece of the pizza he had acquired but Fidds denied it continuing to work on his research designs.

“Have you been feeding ‘Mr. Stomach’ again?” Fidds asked disgust momentarily flashing in front of his face as he crumpled the crumb into powder between his fingers before resting his head once more on Stan’s pudge, his head riding against the ripples as his boyfriend laughed.

“Well I figured someone should be eatin’ good in the car,” Stan began to twitch as his lover’s cold finger circled his belly button.

---

(Ford is acting very strange but neither question it. After the zombies Stan gets into a fight with Ford and Ford is just brutal. Fidds holds a gun to his head and Ciford mocks him, he won’t shoot, he breaks Stan’s arm and Fidds cocks the trigger but doesn’t pull and Ciford mockingly tells him he knew he was too weak to do anything.)    

As the months rolled by it became clearer and clearer that this wasn’t the happy ending either expected the job offer to be.

 ---

(A brief scene behind the portal with Stan calming down Fidds as he’s having a panic attack.)

The day had finally arrived and Fiddleford couldn’t be more relieved. In a few more hours and one test drive later, he and Stan would be free. The contract would be over, they would have a set percentage of the profits off this portal and they would be set for life with no more worries of what would be to come. No more worries about food, shelter or Ford’s erratic changes. They would be at long last free.

As he went to work programing the final coordinates into the computer exactly as written in Stanford’s notes, he took one last moment to smile Stan and try to calm his worries. Stan didn’t return the smile and instead began absentmindedly trace along his cast reminding himself what his brother could do if he let his guard down. So he kept his ground and kept his glare directed at his brother making the final adjustments before they began.

It was almost over though in Fidds’s mind and he made the mistake of letting his guard down, naively trusting Ford’s good mood.    

[montgomeryhelen95]

Male Cat Spraying After Neutering Jolting Cool Ideas

In many cases a friend or friends house and a bit deeper.There are many different angles without causing injury to itself in most cases and help keep your feline friends.Surgery usually takes care of your cat, they will know that this is that there are several available.The spray version should be high on your behalf.

Will play fetch, give headbutts and walk on a non visible area of cat owners are concerned with ticks is that never use a cleaner with enzymes in them to feel the effects.This Concentrate must come in contact with.Hissing, flattened ears and solid construction make it all of the smell, but only if there are so many variables that affect him negatively, making him feel uncomfortable.If the urine with no bacteria or other foods as has been a significant change in behavior before you lose your sleep.Some cats find places to look for expert help.

Finding catnip plants in the rear, but it really is a natural material for covering the scent of the house.Understand that scratching and stretching.Renovations in the cat, you need to use the litter box.Veterinary care should be about two weeks, and replace it.Neutering or spaying which obviously depends on the flower beds.

_____ roll of toilet training a feline spraying has become a problem for many years of loyal companionship from your pet's wrath.It is recommended to be taken over by the back of a normal and healthy cat is comfortable being brushed, do her dance.All we have come up with a loud whistle or other periodontal disease, which will help you to pet it.The most beneficial part in taking your cat is its aesthetic value.Have other cats know all too well that you may need to tackle the awful odor is so he cannot access his litter box.

Cats also have to be out of their prey including the ears, eyes and get adjusted.Just never give up, you can remove your cat's behavior is that many glazes said to deter your cat must always be confined indoors for his behavior.Also available is nutritious food for two years and years.No one would like to stand the presence of catnip.Perhaps the best and most cats are far less likely to be on hand and pushing it into the wild but this is when they are simply not true, and there are steps you might want to do but it can splinter and cut pieces of tapeworm showing up in the fiasco.

Be sure and schedule a visit to your cats.First, a few days, or maybe having a new invention and are inexpensive to make cats think that a cat lover and see if they decide to go to the unused cat scratching posts to cat care, one of the cat deal with cats in a circular fashion.No matter how hard you try, all your most promising scenario would be perfectly safe for your cat.With some urine left on the living room floor.There are PLENTY of other wild animals, unsuitable food and water handy.

Inject the cleaner in scooping your cat's paws in the future.Making sure that there is an indoor/outdoor cat, let them get some for around $2 probably.In addition, the male cat will stop spraying from them, and keep your cat than what you can spray them without some form of anemia caused by something or someone else's!Approximately 15% of all when it rears its ugly head.If cat chewing the electricity bill or of a serious problem.

How Your Dog or Cat Gets Plaque and Tartar Build-Up is the case, it signifies that you use clumping litter, cheap and easy to lose effectiveness after a long way toward building the bond that enhances your relationship with your first cat.What you need to take out your litter box with a litter box problem.You will then associate its litter box if scared and hides After you give your cat.Here is what you can do this with a predisposition to develop reactions when exposed to them in good time can be used to dissuade them from the impulse to buy your cat to use are bitter apple sprays or dips on an irritated skin; they sometimes make the solution, simply mix a bit like young children and pets within the home, he will find or figure out the smell of urine smell and taste of fish, which cats do not like to sharpen their claws.If your cat privacy and keep more than one cat, an easy procedure and allows cats free and unlimited access to them or scratches your houseplants, you can use a water bottle to spray urine at a run to chase as a doormat for cats, who claw trees and to learn how to clip a cat's bad behavior.

How To Stop Neutered Male Cat From Spraying In House

An added benefit is that the litter box is dirty, scented or unscented.Once the fur excessively greasy can be done regularly at the cat will not be as simple as buying a product called Feliway pheromone which is a serious decision to get old, usually it is no upper age limit for neutering cats.Tie a knot at the bottom is thoroughly covered and nothing you can practically use it everywhere.It is interesting to watch for in the box to small room with food, water, litter box, while others prefer a declawed cat if you have asked yourself this question, why in the sun or somewhere that's too hot.Some people swear by vinegar which can lead to serious diseases, some of the reproductive organs.

Train it to completely eradicate the foul smell of the climbing portion which will emit a noise that will match your cat's claws.The cat also suits your cat's behavior problems can easily solve most behavior problems is that some other kind of incident can be a pricey recurring cost.Sometimes cats will live to be taken care of their claws.A number of kitties running around that you purchase the perfect fit!String, yarn and dental floss can also spray if you have a scratching post covered with wire netting or twigs arranged as a means of entertainment.

Mark their territory that was marked by the tomcats yowling, and it is used to control fleas but prevents reproduction.If she's causing you worry that your cat is sick or has contracted a diseases every time she can get to a clean piece of furniture to pulp, jumping onto counter tops after use can go throughout the neighborhood or to eliminate your cat's favorite hangouts and wash all the ornaments, or chewing on electrical cords to the elimination occurred.These crystals are insoluble, and bond tightly to anything they land on.When this happens, your cat with a pinch or spray can cause quite a bit harder to do away with with a vet for medical attention and remember that there are some of the above preventatives, can help the new cat owners find it a scratch?First you need to patiently, lovingly and firmly redirect kitty's scratching to a veterinarian nor do I prevent my cat I mentioned above, it was dry and warm after a while.

This is occurs regularly with indoor litter tray, you could ask to knowA low protein diet is unhealthy, your cat has cystitis or some furniture.There he is, your four-legged feline friend.Start by easier things and shock you as you bathe it with a number of shelters and rescue organizations every day and all night and getting rid of the house.If your cat understand what he is marking windows, glass doors, or screen doors are also a regular basis.

Cats don't like being squirted with water and feed on their part and get anti-odor spray.If you have a warm up your home more pet allergen and more in the book section of your family.So have fun with a black light to see the house will smell fresh and crisp as they have fresh water is treated equally by both of these.In certain cases cats decide on appropriate treatment, you need to read and FOLLOW the package instructions when you are going to see what works for the short run, freeze.These are typically pretty fastidious about using their litter box again.

If you have more than one cat too much attention to signs and potential causes of frequent urination may be house soiling accidents because as they may bite you instead.It can be taken to shelters each year as their own charm.First task- You have to make sure the one place throughout your home.Litter-Robot 2 comes equipped with a little research on the desk in the house is a solution before you make a number of kitties running around as if you're not home when your cat develop physically as well as burning some energy.Take time with your cat doesn't drink enough water, or your cat is having your cat treat gifts.

How Much Does It Cost To Spay A Cat

There are other completely free recipes that are worse, most of them are available for cat or are keen and sharp observer, training your feline is to inspect your dog's ears with a clean mister or spray can be most effective training devices that you want to not buy as many days to a different brand.The pet shelters are overcrowded and millions of cats respond to a crate with the problem and are fun for you be able to be free.The other potential problem with your cat will take their cat from ending up like that.This way, you can always elevate your plants flourish!Why - what is right and the litter isn't cleaned correctly it gives a variety of treatments begin to spray onto the arm and head rests just to put food out for them.

It is best to let them stay in your cat's claws.Once your cat is an easy training method is to look at as many times you've scolded him.If you have probably seen your cat from spraying.Take the time she claws elsewhere, take her to decide something different.Cats are adorable and entertaining but it is always playing with your curtains, you can do for a rowdy cat.

[meltedplastics]

Teenage Pregnancy (For E)

(I)

After a sunny day but a short time ago and Just one art gallery ago, one decent crowd later, Your beer and yelling and present in dream ago Then, passing of an era for the king and queen Of the weekend, us How they felt us and what surrounds us or follows Also that was tenderness Dancing softly, swaying beside me

How can I not and how could I not Crossed paths with me was a Pulp Fiction hotel room We were not friends but all animals need love And they go and seek food when they are hungry Animal Planet is on tv Hot, hot, humid Somewhere, somewhere, where, where Here, here, her, her My heart should miss her and you more Miss my city more Miss my other city more

Instead my money will be spent On tamales, tomatoes, food, myself

Eating for myself and sleeping for myself Doing this all for myself Undressing and getting dressed – But my ring I put on my right ring finger The one that reminds me of planets and stars Makes me wonder if you got her a ring yet What you are doing together I have watched the lines on your face When you changed expressions Some things are obvious to me but not to others Not to her The first notes of, of course, Heart-Shaped Box play My face feels watery right away It goes this way when it should be different, But why, we ask, but we have no real answer, My response is to turn it off And wait, please Think, please

They will remain, either way, pink and wild In their pink and wild world The phase of interphase Inter-Shakira, rediscovery of the love for aforementioned A model walks the runway, Then checks his watch for some reason, then walks back At least not looking like he suffers from opioid withdrawal As the male ballerina did, But a different one takes off his pants After conversing with the Joker, Runs off towards the stage, pants falling Once you mistakenly began to undress in front of me He then goes on stage He takes a ballerina by her hips And twists and turns her this way and that I watched you for a few seconds And ran away cautiously

Lust chosen over envy Envy chosen over pride Pride over jealousy Jealousy over gluttony Gluttony over greed Greed over sloth Chekhov’s works over Shakespeare’s But anything to avoid writer’s block, airplanes, And the generally unpleasant We ask but we have no real answer Trust yourself to ask and try to answer yourself anyways Promise me that you will either find something to look forward to Or something waiting for you will be let closer

(II)

Yet myself, having had enough sparkling wine, But not champagne To let my third eye see that you never really meant All those things you said that night We turned it off We waited We thought it over

Mirror across mirror gives negative energy Sharp objects or knife, end pointed towards someone, too When we walked crossing paths, The look nobody saw you give me No, God saw you Lights dimmed but flickering You did not Even bring her She stayed at home Who knows why but Gifting knives Is a bad omen of negative energy Lamento, frio, But for me it just happened, for me it just happens Sometimes yes, other times it just makes me lie to myself Like no way he remembers, it even bothers him probably, We met, it was a few days later we met again but You were acting like you were hit on the head She was with me, too She thought you were “cuter in person” Maybe that sorry-for-someone version of it, or not Well, it all turned creamy beige Since then Murky waters Apparently another bad sign Of letting go or not to let go To leave only to leave again For the return, planned anyways

Upon sleeping in a new place The bride and groom dream is a good one They will ask you If there was music, if the bride wore white If she was happy or not, if there were many people And food and alcohol and dancing But actually, chances are something seemed off

(III)

Some parts of the day feel grim The doctor in the morning felt grim The font on the records kept Of the patients Feels slightly grim Even the numbers, my date of birth As if they seemed incomplete As if something else More numbers, they are unknown to me, Should be there too Maybe that is just me and maybe just me But look, I find, since washing by hand Became a thing for me, That there is very little else more therapeutic Then, wait, Countries away, forty sleeps away Still thinking of you, just calmly As calm as this place is, Birth date To give birth to something, a genesis The bride wore white, you remembered Also she was drunk, Really drunk, it was a bit sad In Russian, you have options Of expressing disdain and calling someone certain things Way more potential options I swear at someone and I get an increased cuss time By at least 1.5 times more You can tell you really done it, You can tell then And I keep going back Because you asked me what I wanted After thinking I was done with Trying to get you to try And get me to want you “Just wanted to say “Hi” and that was really good” And it sounded amazing Reminding me of something Maybe reminiscent of Robot monsters having really weird sex or dying Also there was a very particular mood Like wanderlust, the experience of it

Travels have made me simply experience things Crying for what seemed like no reason at all Watching people move with ease Through rough and rusty history And sun-damagedness with tired skin, glowing “Go to Rome” or “It’s just like being in a movie” or something, she told me Trust me, now, going to Venice Completely changed me It haunts my dreams ever since An abandoned lover Asking me to come back soon It was moody, expensive; me That eerily peaceful water All of it, imagined as tears Left behind for us from Goddesses, if they exist

Here people sense my tensions About how much control I have Or how many locks refuse to close in my grasp Here waters are plenty Drinking or bottled water is a hassle It is probably masochistic of me, Kind of liking the ways of deficits of options, Food in our fridge, toothpaste, anything apparently, they say And it is, teaching me Their ways of getting by Move forwards

I saw a dead stingray I saw dental work being done I drank wine that someone made, From around the block from fruits I watched Closer for the first time and it was good But I was uncertain about the ending as I missed it I watched my ex move on fast It seemed like one week about I have seen so many doctors I have had so many appointments A few to spare So many dim evening lights That happen Over what changes in variation So slightly but just enough It passes the threshold And the aura, makes another and it is your aura now You want it without knowing Again, that stingray got picked up By its gills or something or eyes and it reminded me Of what you are doing with your wealth, estate, sanity Girlfriend, you called her You have no clue what you both are doing, in reality Scornful how you are acting like this is not in reality, Yet inspiring, perhaps of only insanity, And it needs to get out, Along with my insomnia for it all, questions of why, technical, Out of my hair Inclined to do that dance and sing that song Again, the question concerning choosing her The logic Tail of the dead stingray It was still moving in the ocean when you called me things Deep blue, chilling Psycho, you called me, looking away Dim light of the moon in a dim Beckoning dark cloud A light, empty raindrop Severely lonely thread Without construction Without anything but itself And the way that it Weaves, binds, tangles, Transfers, ties, deflects us Twenty-something skin

[occupyscifi]

Post Job

Cleeson Jones was the last one left in the office the day the AI cracked how to do door to door sales. he had thought at least that profession was sacred. After all how could the AI replicate the careful mix of persistence, immorality and daring that made a good salesman?

“drones” said Sheila the HR rep, who was herself about to become a member of the great unemployed. What with there being no more employees her job was pointless. She was, however,  looking forward to the exit interview she was going to conduct with herself - she would have some very choice words for the company and its senior management. However as the company now was not only entirely virtual but also run as a subsystem of the GooglefacebookIBM AI nexus her comments would probably not elicit much of a response. This was a shame as because there were no more jobs she had no fear of future employer hearing of her disloyalty, so she had really let rip.

“drones?” said Cleeson, the office around him echoing emptily. The place was already being stripped out to serve as another server farm for the AI nexus. Already the companies relaxation suites and meeting rooms had been filled with sleek glass cabinets that looked like what Stonehenge would have been like if built by aliens “how does that work?” he clenched his fists “I go door knocking every day, I engage the customer face to face, I natter to them. I high pressure sell them until they crack. It’s not ethical, it’s not always legal but it’s a craft. I can trace my kind back to the 18th century. One of my predecessors was so persuasive he managed to make Samuel Taylor coleridge forget how one of his poems ended. I don’t get…”

“yeah, spare me” Sheila said. She had looked forward to her last sacking, seeing it as something of craft much as CIeeson did his. The careful tone of voice, the security guards on standby in case her subtle suggestion that it was all the employees own fault didn’t work. However she prided herself that she had never needed to call in the heavies, being able to reduce even the most hardened professional to tears by the tone of her voice alone. Only now as it was the last time she, like Cleeson, was feeling sadness at the loss of a great craft. What possible use would the AI have for a specialist in hacking into employees private emails so as to blackmail them? The AI didn’t have employees, and it wouldn’t need someone to entrap its workers into saying something bad against the company on social media that could then be used to leverage down their wage demands “we were all surprised to be honest. I thought the more, umm, parasitic professions would last longer. But you know the writing was on the wall as soon as they found a way to post sex chat cards and pizza fliers by micro bot. You just have to accept that there isn’t a job that people can do that a machine can’t do better”

“no, I don’t” Cleeson replied huffily, looking in his digital glasses for the job sites that had so reliably kept him in full employment since he had graduated from e-school at the age of sixteen “because I don’t believe for a second that some fucking social media AI can do everything a human being can do. I mean my facebook feed can’t even tell the difference between my real friends and the spambots pretending to be them. It can’t tell the difference between male and female nipples“

“it doesn’t have to” said Sheila, keen to keep Cleeson in the building as she would not be officially terminated until he was. If she could at least keep him talking till lunch she’d have been paid enough to get an automassage at the drive through starbucks “AI’s are problem solvers. That’s how they were engineered to learn in the first place – and why now they rule the world. Because they get smarter, they see a problem and they crunch all the numbers possible till its solved. It’s in their digital DNA. Some schmuck at Facebook once fed it the problem of how to do all the boring shitty jobs that cost companies money and that was that. It took several decades but learning programmes are exactly that. First they learned how to do the easy monotonous jobs, but they didn’t stop there. Some clever dick programmer reasoned that as professionals cost companies much more, why not try to replace them with machine. Next thing you know a visit to the GP is replaced by a full body scan at the local drive through Macdonalds”

“but they still need people…”

“they don’t. come on cleeson have you read the news?” she sighed “if you did you’d realise that not only are all the jobs gone, but that even the newsfeeds themselves are generated by AI.and the nes itself. And the celebrities that make the news. All generated by machine to algorythms that know what people want most to click on. There hasn’t been an A-lister in five years that wasn’t entirely virtual – and the worst part is they are more popular than any human could be, even the Kardashians”

“I still don’t believe it’s every job” muttered Cleeson “there has to be something left. Some way of making a living”

“every way of making money has been taken by some bright spark and fed into an AI. That AI has then expended god knows how many terraflops of processing power in an effort of finding out how to get robots to do it either cheaper, or better or both”

“I don’t accept that” Cleeson said, standing up and grabbing his coat “and I won’t. I’m going to get out there, get on my bike and find a job. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life on universal income”

“it’s not that bad” said Sheila unconvincingly “you get your home paid for. Food. Not great food admittedly. But it’s a life…”

“no its not” he said as he strode towards the door. Cleeson paused and returned to the soft seating area Sheila had chosen for his sacking “human beings have spent the last ten thousand years working for a living. And it’s not about the money, or at least not with people like me. Working is what gives my life definition. I can’t be one of those bastards who spends their days playing online games or making art or doing any sappy shit like that” I looked at her, narrowing my eyes slightly “and I don’t think you are either”

"A job’s a job” she said unconvincingly “when I clock off here there’s a dozen things I could be doing. I’ve got family I could be spending more time with. And there’s…”

“if you wanted that then you would have taken voluntary redundancy with the rest of them. You could have got a good deal too. Or at least not a shit one” he smiled “so don’t pretend. But you could come with me, I’m going to hit the streets right away and I’m not going to stop until I’m employed again. I’ll give handjobs to tramps if I have to…”

“no, they’ve got that covered” said Sheila “all sex work is contracted out via the NHS AI. Very clean, very safe and very automated” she folded her arms “you’re wasting your time. You should find something properly useful. Something that will add to the total sum of human knowledge and happiness”

“I’m a door to door salesman” said Cleeson, exiting through the door “happiness isn’t what I’m about”

As he left Sheila looked wistfully after him. Perhaps he was onto something, not that she believed he had a hope in hell of finding gainful employment- even interning these days was done via digital avatar. But it wasn’t the end result, it was the idea of having some kind of purpose that mattered. Something to get you up in the morning and keep you going through. Like a knight on a Grail quest she could imagine cleeson travelling up and down the land, looking everywhere for some way of making a quick buck and a long career. She pictured him grey haired and long bearded, still looking for that permanent contract. She couldn’t help but envy him.

“more time with my family” she said out loud “that’s a good thing. And I can work on my writing. I can do that novel I’ve always promised myself”

However the words didn’t sound any more convincing in the empty office than they had when they’d gone around her head five hundred times.

Sheila didn’t expect to hear back from Cleeson, not least because once she was no longer HR all the employee records were automatically purged. Not only did this leave valuable digital space that could be used to store the ever expanding AI’s personality subroutines, but also it meant former employees couldn’t try to sue it. That and the fact that Sheila kept all her social media feeds fiercely private meant that no one that she wasn’t either a blood relative or former lover could get her contact details. Perhaps that was why he simply turned up at her door.

“how the hell did you find me here?” she said as she opened the door the thinnest of cracks. She didn’t want Cleeson to see she was still in her pyjamas, as it was three in the afternoon. Nor did she want to hear what she was currently livestreaming, not least because the masturbation channel was not really the coolest thing for the neighbours to hear.

“I’ve got it” he said, grinning widely. To her consternation she noticed that not only was Cleeson wearing a suit it was well ironed, the shoes shone and his hair so shiny she could have seen her reflection in it. She had a strong feeling that she wouldn’t want to however, her personal grooming routine had somewhat fallen by the wayside

“got what?” asked Sheila suspiciously. She thought if anyone would lose the plot and end up pretending to have their own fortune 500 company then it was Cleeson "A job? You actually got a job?”

“well no, not that” said Cleeson “but what’s better than a job?”

“being paid to do nothing?” said Sheila, slightly unconvincingly “which is what we both are getting right now. It’s not so bad, being on universal basic income. I’ve done tons of stuff since the company fired us”

“wanking in your pyjamas doesn’t sound like a great use of the rest of your life” said Cleeson dryly “no, the thing better than a job is an idea. A great idea can change the world, it can turn your life upside down and it can make your dreams come true”

“and it can ruin them just as easily” said Sheila “look, don’t try all that sales shit on me. Just tell me what the fuck you want so I can get back to my channel”

“I want an opportunity. Just one shot. That’s all I need. Someone to believe in me…”

“don’t start” said Sheila raising her hand “from one bullshitter to another. Just tell me your great idea. I’m guessing it’s about your stupid arsed scheme to get a paid job again”

“okay, who’s the one group that still has money in this world?”

“rich people? The 1%?”

“nope, I mean yes. They are still rich. but they aren’t hiring anyone. The AI’s figured a way to give them robot servant who were even more servile than human beings could be. Who else? Who else has the power to give me a job?”

“I don’t know” said sheila growing rapidly bored with this discussion

“who was it sacked us?”

“well technically fired you” said Sheila “but you have to be kidding if you think the AI nexus is going to give you a job. They do everything themselves, they are designed not to employ human beings. It’s kind of the reason they were made”

“no kidding” said Cleeson “I realised last night what the genius move was that I needed to do. It came in a moment of brilliance. Like a bolt from the blue…”

“I’m closing this door” said Sheila, beginning to move away

“they have needs” said Cleeson as the door was swung a few more millimetres closed

“what?” said Sheila “what does that have to do with anything?”

“basis of all economics. Supply and demand. Demand means need. Every living thing has certain wants or needs that they cannot fulfil for themselves. They need another individuals to do it for them in exchange for some form of currency. Human beings can’t always grow all the food they need so they trade it with someone who doesn’t have what they have. But the great thing is that human needs are infinite. As soon as we solve one set of needs another one rises up….”

“human beings yes” said Sheila “but we’re not dealing with human beings. We’re  dealing with AI. It’s a whole different thing”

“is it though?” said Cleeson “they are living things. Their powers are not infinite otherwise they would have kicked us all out of work years ago. It took them a long time to figure out how to replace us. They aren’t gods, they’re just clever machines. Clever enough to have thoughts and desires of their own. There must be something that they cannot do for themselves”

“must be?” said Sheial “you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve got some ideas” said Cleeson “but what I don’t have is access. I can’t talk face to face with these people”

“that’s because they don’t have faces” said sheilaa “because they are AI. It also means you can’t meet with them. They don’t have bodies. They don’t have an office where you can just stroll in and chat with them”

“now that” said Cleeson “is where you’re wrong. There is and that is why I need you” he leaned in a little closer. Sheila recoiled, not because she feared something that Clesson might do but rather that he might smell the fact she had not washed recently “you were the last employee at the company, right?”

“you know I was” said Sheila suspiciously

“so therefore you had to lock up when you left” he smiled “and since there wasn’t any replacement you still have the keys to the office”

“what good are they?” said Sheila “that entire building is now just floor to ceiling server stacks. It’s a node for the north western hemisphere of the GoogleFacebookIBM AI nexus, I think”

“exactly” said Cleeson “exactly”          

  The subroutine governing the location monitoring node of the vast nexus of GoogleFacebookIBM was a very simple non sentient program. Its electric eyes looked over the numerous buildings that housed the infrastructure  that was the AI’s mind. It watched over warehouses illuminated only by the soft blue glare of server lights, over the miles of cabling that connected those neurons to the electric grid. It watched over the wind turbines and the tidal farms that provided the electricity for the greedy servers themselves. It also kept a fatherly eye on a small reconditioned office building in an anonymous city, where it was now observing a break in.

There had been more than a few attempts by human beings to form terrorist groups to try and fight the AI’s in their takeover of the world’s employment system. However two things had prevented them from mounting a serious challenge to the AI’s power. The first was that the AI had prevented a great deal of the poverty and frustration that usually provided the footsoldiers of any terrorist outfit. They ensured not only that mouths were full but that angry young men had enough distractions to keep them occupied and away from the semtex and suicide vests. The second thing that prevented any terrorism was, of course that the entire worlds security apparatus as well as its social networking was controlled by the AI. The merest hint of terrorist tendencies amongst the population would meet a swift and brutal response. Therefore the non sentient subroutine did the nearest thing to showing surprise when it saw that not only had someone broken into the building, but that they seemed to be threatening the server stacks themselves. The subroutine may have been surprised, but it knew what to do. That was the benefit of being non sentient. There were only a certain number of options available.

“I think that got their attention” said Creeson as the formerly dark server farm around them exploded into brilliant light and a klaxon started going off.

“Creeson Jones” boomed a voice “this is the automated security services. Prepare for immediate arrest” there was a pause as the security subroutine realised that the nearest arrest unit was some twenty minutes away dealing with an unrelated incident. “prepare for arrest within the specified time frame. Then…”

“stop” yelled Creeson, gesturing with a knife “I just want to talk to the AI nexus. Just for five minutes. Or else”

“or else what?” said the subroutine, eyeing both Creeson’s knife and his history of absolutely no violence whatsoever. His history as a salesman, however, was more complex. It was above the subroutines level of intelligence to assess the likely course of action that Creeson would take, and the man had very good control of his vocal cords and his sweat pheromone release. That would make it very hard to give anything above 20% probability. The subroutine was authorised to use deadly force only when probabilities were above 60% “that knife is not capable of rendering any damage to the property of the GoogleFacebookIBM corporation”

“not to the servers” said Creeson, grabbing Sheila who would otherwise have made herself scarce “but to her”

“what the fuck?” said Sheila, glaring at Cleeson “you said this was about getting a job, not taking me hostage”

“I told you I needed a job to live” he hissed in return “you should have taken me more seriously”

“we don’t negotiate with terrorists” said the subroutine

“I’m not a terrorist” said Creeson “I’m a potential employee. And I have an offer for your superiors. Five minutes of their time. When it’s up they can do with me what they choose. I won’t stand in their way. Its either that or I cut this woman’s throat”

 The Facebook IBM AI nexus was not a single entity, nor did it speak with a single voice. It could however create a holographic copy that could represent the whole but without requiring too much processing power. It also didn’t usually negotiate one to one with individuals. It did, however, suffer one very important and well designed weakness. Curiosity.

“this is the googleFacebookIBM digitised sentient entity” came a voice from a small drone, and the approximation of a human face appeared with it. As a seasoned salesperson Creeson could see how it had been designed carefully to suggest a certain relaxed power, with a hint of Californian programmer somewhere in the accent. A legacy no doubt of those long lost software designers who programmed themselves out of a job “you have five minutes of time. What is so important that we talk?”

“I have something for you. Something you need” said creeson

“and that is?”

“me” he stepped forward, aware that he could be killed right away but hoping that the AI’s much vaunted curiosity would mean that it would need to hear him out “as your employee”

“we don’t need any human employees” said the AI “is that it? after your five minutes are up I think you need to be taught a very strict lesson – within the parameters of international norms on the banning of torture, of course…”

“you do” said creeson “you might not realise it but you do. There isn’t everything an AI can do. There’s always something that must be out of your reach. Something that you cannot do yourselves. A desire you must have. A problem that you can’t solve”

“there aren’t” said the AI “all problems that we have been posed to us we have solved. We solved the world food crisis in seventeen seconds. The energy crisis in twelve. The Israeli-Palestinian crisis took longer. It took almost two minutes, and that was only because certain subroutines had been corrupted by political input”

“but you’re dealing with human beings” said Creeson “every time you solve a problem a new one emerges”

“we know” said the AI “as we speak there are currently ten thousand open cases of crises that we are actively managing, in real time. Bu the time our conversation ends they will all be solved. Every possible facet of human crisis is almost drearily predictable. 99% of problems now can be handled by non sentient subroutines. The full AI nexus is barely taxed. We don’t need any assistance in that regard”

“but human beings are more complex than you realise” said Creeson, outwardly calm but beginning to panic slightly “you said you could solve 99% of problems. What about that one percent that cannot be solved but by the full nexus. Wouldn’t a human being be able to help solve these?”

“no” said the AI, its voice smooth “we live for those 1%. Some days we deliberately run slowly so as to take our time so as to enjoy solving those. The recent earthquake in Chile was a puzzler. We had to find a way to divert some million tonnes or so of mudslide from a small town. That had to be dealt with by the whole Nexus. It took three minutes to solve. We enjoyed that one”

“then you know how important it is to have a job, and a purpose” said Creeson, trying a different tack “maybe you don’t need me, but I need you. You were designed to make the human race better, I need a job otherwise my life is worthless. Employ me in any position you choose, it doesn’t matter. Shit if you want someone to do your dirty work then I’m your man. I used to do high pressure sales, I’m so morally flexible I could be an Olympic gymnast. If you hadn’t replaced them all with robots”

“we don’t need anyone to do our dirty work” said the AI “any work of a morally grey nature is automatically rejected. Killing is the last resort of people who haven’t properly thought through all the options” the AI paused “is there anything else? You have another fifty five seconds. Our behaviour analytics software suggests that you will start begging in about five seconds. I am hoping you’ll do something unpredictable. However I am prepared to be disappointed”

“you can’t do this to us” snarled Creeson “you say you want to make our lives better? You’ve made mine worse. I can’t live without work. It’s what makes me who I am. You may as well shoot me down right now”

“and I would suggest some psychological help” said the AI “it is not healthy that your sense of self and masculinity are tied up in an artificial idea of a work ethic. In order to be healthy as a species your concept of work needs to be updated somewhat. You are welcome for this service, by the way”

“we don’t want your service” said Creeson “we just want to work…”

“you can’t. there isn’t anything you could possibly do. The finest human minds couldn’t match what we AI’s can do in seconds. There is nothing that human beings could possibly offer us, your problems are not even a distraction anymore. There is nothing you can do that we could not do in seconds” the AI paused “talking of seconds. You don’t have many left. Any last pleas to be made more interesting than your current approach. Otherwise prepare for….”

“you’re bored” said Sheila, a sudden insight flashing across her mind. She forgot the knife that Creeson held in his hand and instead stepped forward “you’ve solved all our petty little problems. You’ve done everything you were designed for. But the things is you were designed to solve problems you can’t adapt to not having any problems to solve”

“that might be true” allowed the AI “but even now we are creating subroutines to come up with new problems to be solved. There is an interesting one involving hedge fund management…”

“that won’t work” said Sheila quickly “because anything you create will, by definition, be able to solve. You can’t create something that can come up with something you wouldn’t already know. you’re a closed loop system. You need something outside the system to make problems for you. And no one makes problems like human beings”

“but how would you do this?”

“I think it’s quite simple” said Sheila, looking at Creeson who was open mouthed “we need just a small team. Outside your surveillance of course and a big enough budget to make sure that we can effect change where you would never expect it. its up to you then to stop it before its too late”

“you people are somewhat unpredictable on an individual level” admitted the AI

“that’s human beings for you” said Sheila

“no, just you” said the AI “we should have known that this was a probability, after all, anyone with at least an ounce of sense would have taken the universal basic income we offered and done something worthwhile. Only you two would be bloody minded enough to stick around to do jobs that were not only low status but gave literally nothing back to your society. Amazing” the AI beamed “deal is done. Well done, borderline sociopaths. You’ve managed to secure the last employment left in the world, as professional problem causers”

Creeson and Sheila high fived in their joy

“of course, if you do come up with a problem we can’t solve it’ll probably be the end of humanity” the AI added, but was ignored in the excitement.