#then i went to the library and chatted with my favorite librarian

[avatar-aaang]

went to the fuckin clinic bc I feel awful and shes like yea sorry, its just leftover covid symptoms. nothing we can do. like oh okay. I mean I figured as much but I was kinda hoping thered be Something??? whatever. just to keep drinking water, eat as regularly as I can, etc. Ugh. Hate this.

Keep wearing your masks, keeping things clean, get your boosters, etc.

[asterdeer]

L + ratio + the librarians at your favorite branch don’t even know you by name, much less by face

[kate-bishops-waifu]

"Ow."

A/N: Uhhhhh I kind of hate it but these cluster headaches have been so bad that I needed to give this to myself. Do not be surprised if I delete it later, as I am already terrified to post it. Very very mild blink and you'll miss it suggestive moment.

Word count: 1336

Library Date Gone wrong.

Kate whined a little pathetically and swore under her breath. tossing her handheld console on the couch, she dramatically pouted at the girl sitting next to her who was pointedly ignoring her complaints. She leaned over resting her head on one of the pillows and squinted her eyes hoping to garner some kind of attention. This proved unsuccessful.

“It happened again.”

Ophelia didn't make any discernible response, keeping her nose in her book. Kate went on.

“That same kid- every time. I start a match and he's there, messing up my score. You know he was one assist better than me? One! I think I cussed him out the other night. He might be a hacker. Do you think he has some kind of vendetta? Should I kick his ass? I think he's like 12 I told you I talked to him on chat once-”

Ophelia nodded vaguely.

“Babe, how are you still awake right now?”

That earned her a gentle shushing.

“I literally can't stay awake, I read like, one chapter and I'm zonked. How are you still so concentrated?”

“Mmph.” Ophelia mildly grumbled, then shut her book. “Too loud.”

“But- this is the fourth time. You know I got his user-”

“You know I love when you talk about your games but darling we had such a nice quiet little moment there. Can you tell me about Fortnite later?”

Kate huffed. “You kinda sound like that librarian. And I know you know I'm not playing fortnite.”

“She wasn't uptight, you were just being a bit loud.”

Kate smiled smugly. “Well I got you to pay attention to me.”

This was answered with a patient sigh.

Kate plopped her face on Ophelia's shoulder and whined once more. This did earn her a scratch on the head. She turned her head and looked up, running an index finger over ophelia's cheek. “You have dents in your cheeks. They're all sunken in like a corpse.”

“. . . Is that a compliment?”

“Yes.” Kate sat up, scooting even closer and gently ran a hand down Ophelia's side, sliding further until she reached hip and pressed her lips against the shell of her ear. “There's noone around,” hip gave way to thigh, where she bunched a bit of skirt into a fist.

Ophelia couldn't help her face feeling warm, shying away ever so slightly. “M-maybe right now's not the best idea- I'm sorry I just,”

Kate shook her head, a smile on her lips, “you’re good.”

“It's my favorite library is all an-”

“Babygirl you're fine. I'm just gonna stretch my legs ‘kay?”

“Zoomies?” Ophelia asked, hugging her book to her stomach.

“Yup.” Kate beamed and kissed her girl's forehead, hopping off the couch in the same movement and disappearing.

OphelIa settled a little more into the couch, keeping her feet up on the table and reached over for the coat Kate had left. She unfurled it and draped it over her legs like a blanket, pulling the collar up to sniff before picking her book back up again. Absently, she began to play with the fidget necklace around her neck, a gift from Kate.

It was forty five minutes before Kate returned, two single slice pizza boxes in one hand and sipping on a sugary coffee from the other.

For a moment she thought Ophelia had abandoned their stuff on the couch, but then she noticed her coat shift and she giggled to herself.

“Are you hiding there?” She set the food on the table and went to pull the coat off Ophelia’s head but was met with resistance. “You okay?” She pulled again, lifting it all the way off. The girl underneath was curled up as tightly as she could manage in the corner of the couch, the heel of her hand pressed into her right eye. “Woah, okay, not okay. What’s going on?”

Ophelia gave what amounted to a pretty pathetic “Oww.” and shifted to sit up.

“Headache?” Kate pulled Ophelia’s hand away from her face.

She nodded. Her right eye was watering, and slightly red from pressing it too hard.

“Did you bring your meds?”

She shook her head.

“Okay here, drink this. It’s coffee.” Kate handed her drink over, and with eyes closed Ophelia turned the straw towards herself and took a long sip. She pulled away for a moment, pursing her lips. “I know it’s a little sweet,” Kate smiled, her voice low. Ophelia took another sip anyway, and Kate replaced the coat over her head. “Let’s get you home yeah?” Kate gathered their things, slinging both of their bags over her shoulder and helping the beleaguered girl up from the couch.

Ophelia held on to Kate, her arms wrapped so she could hold the cold cup against her temple. She had to press herself against Kate so she didn’t feel like she would fall. It was an awkward trip through the library to Kate’s old purple VW Beetle where Ophelia curled up as tightly as she could in the passenger seat.

The ride home was short, and more painful than she wanted to admit, Ophelia’s head was getting worse by the moment, and every sharp turn or hard rev of the engine made it worse. Kate was such an enthusiastic driver, for want of a better term. She usually found some excuse to drive faster than the speed limit and she had become rather adept at weaving through traffic. Thankfully they made it to their apartment before long and Kate helped her out of the car, “I’ll carry you in?”

Ophelia gave what Kate assumed was a nod, and reached up. Kate maneuvered her arms around her neck and lifted her out of the car, Ophelia’s legs wrapping around her middle. She buried her face in Kate’s neck.

“Atta girl. Hey, I can totally see your petticoats. Cover up slut.” Kate whispered, earning a half hearted kick.

It was a bit tricky getting inside, but Kate managed to get the door unlocked, drop their bags by the front door, and get Ophelia upstairs and into bed without tripping on Lucky who was sniffing excitedly at her legs.

“There you go, let’s get you something more comfortable to wear?”

“Meds?” Ophelia whined from between the pillows.

“Right. Yeah. Where are they?”

She was met only with a shuttered cry, and a sharp point to the bedside table.

Kate did a clumsy half jump half crawl over the bed and tore open the drawer where she sorted through a couple varieties of pills before coming upon the right one. “Here, here, drink some water and take this. It’s gonna taste really bad so I’ll grab you something sour. That helps right?”

Ophelia only writhed in pain, one arm shooting up to pull Kate down with her.

“Okay-okay shh it’s okay.” Kate adjusted them so she was sitting against the pillow with Ophelia’s head tucked into the softest part of her shoulder, tears staining her shirt pretty quickly. “We should really get you into something more comfortable,” A shake of the head. “No, no right. Umm just- oh- hey. Look who's come to check on you.”

There was a dip in the mattress as Lucky hopped up sniffing at Ophelia’s dark curls, and settling down, his muzzle pressed against her back.

“See? It can’t be so bad, Pizza Dog’s here. He’ll, um, heal you with his gourmet pizza and nasty kisses?”

It must have been an hour or more before Ophelia fell asleep, her body exhausted from the pain. Kate couldn’t tell, but she breathed a final sigh of relief that there was no more of that terrifying writhing. She’d been kidnapped, jumped off skyscrapers, even shot at, but at the moment that felt totally mundane. A problem she could shoot at or hit. She didn’t know how to deal with this, as rare as they were. She hoped her heart wasn’t beating hard enough to wake the sleeping girl. She took a long deep breath, gave Lucky a pat on the head and closed her eyes.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Several people have been kind enough to let me publish their thoughts on fandom, community, and queerness to celebrate Pride in the Library. Today's piece comes from @getawayfox.

First of all I want to say thank you, dear Librarian, for inviting me to participate in such an incredible project. Being part of it means more than I can explain.  

Like many others, I have discovered my queerness via reading fic. It was an actual, classic italicized "oh" moment for me and I can still pinpoint the fic that did it (I thought about sharing a link but it’s actually deeply personal for me, so it will keep living in my brain). And I kept reading because it felt like I was discovering more about my true self that had been pushed under the rug for so long. Being from a small town and growing up with a bigoted parent didn’t allow me a lot in this area before.

But what happened next was even more amazing: I made friends with creators of these fics that mean so much, with people that keep the fandom going, and I was able to chat about anything and everything with them – from our love of HP, our daily lives, to our insecurities and deepest secrets. And it is so freeing to have people in your life, no matter how many timezones away, who are there for you, who understand the parts of you that are hard to explain sometimes.

IRL my queerness is often invisible and I sometimes struggle with the classic "am I queer enough" question. It’s thanks to this community that I know I am. It’s thanks to this community I have learned to take up space. It’s thanks to this community I went to my first pride years ago and I have been every year since. It’s this community I can turn to when I feel insecure or joyous. It’s being part of a project like this that makes me feel like I belong.

Thank you, El, for joining me in the Library. What you said about being able to celebrate queerness with a community really resounded with me, and I appreciate that you took the time to celebrate Pride in the Library here with us.

If you want more @getawayfox, be sure to check out her fics and art on AO3! I especially love her work one for keeping. It's the perfect blend of fic and art featuring Harry and Draco being silly and sappy and sarcastic with each other. My favorite chapter is Chapter 12, Home. It's a beautiful domestic scene, and has a special place in my heart.

🏳️‍🌈 Lots of Love and Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

[hiccanna-tidbits]

@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Week 3 - AUs Librarian Assassin AU

Jack Overland-Frost is your typical, run-of-the-mill slacker--he gets a computer program to file all his taxes for him, he gives 50% at work, and perhaps worst of all, he never returns his library books. For years he’s been hopping from library to library, moving from city to city--exhausting his supply of free books in every metropolis before flying the coop to avoid the overdue fees. For over a decade he lives life as a nomad, working odd jobs and blocking the email of every disgruntled librarian naive enough to confront him. With a loose blue hoodie, a head full of bleached hair, and a devil-may-care attitude, he’s easy to dismiss as just an average lowlife ne’er-do-well.

When the High Council of Librarians find they’re no less than $95 in debt because of this white-haired punk, however, they decide this cannot go on. They send out one of their best, an unassuming but dangerous young librarian named Rapunzel, to collect the late fees. Her mission is simple: Hunt down Jack Frost and bring back the libraries’ dues, whatever it takes.

When Jack chats up an interesting-looking blonde in the seedy part of his newest city, the last thing he expects to find is that she’s a bounty hunter assassin sent after him. After narrowly escaping a vicious bar fight, the two fall into a ruthless cat-and-mouse game, Jack now on the run from his overdue fines in a more literal sense than he ever imagined. He never dreamed simply not feeling like returning every library book he’s ever checked out would land him in such a heap of trouble, and yet...here he is, life on the line and always on high alert for flying knives and swinging batons.

Rapunzel, meanwhile, is loathe to admit she’s starting to feel conflicted. Years of schooling have taught her absolute loyalty to the library above all else, and absolute ruthlessness against all the library’s enemies. However, when given a collection of overdue book receipts to help track Jack down, she realizes the young man she assumed was a lazy good-for-nothing bum has a very similar taste in literature to her. Books on astronomy, folkloristics, geography, archaeology, and sociology. Her favorite fantasy and sci-fi novels. Even the exact type of “guilty pleasure” romance novels she likes. Deadbeat or not, she and Jack Overland-Frost could have some truly fascinating conversations.

Against his better judgment, Jack can’t help but be captivated by the librarian out for his blood. Ruthlessly intelligent and armed with about 15 different ways to kill him, she’s far from the frumpy, middle-aged bespectacled women he’s used to. Her undying devotion--both to her cause and to his hunt--draws him in, making a strange part of him look forward to the next time he sees her. Which, given Rapunzel’s apparent talent for following the scent of overdue books, is never long.

Both hunter and hunted soon find themselves in a battle against their own wiles and hearts as much as each other. One thing is for sure--whether the High Council of Librarians gets their $95 back in the end, they’ve set something in motion that they may not be able to handle.

A lil something-something I made based on this post, which I found in the wild a while back and immediately went “Jackunzel AU!!! Jackunzel AU!!!” Like who else could pull off an angsty enemies-to-lovers AU, but in the most obscenely hilarious way??? Forbidden romance over something so very stupid my beloved <3

That, and Rapunzel being a librarian assassin blends her bookworm nerdiness and her smarts and her utter badassery in the literal perfect way. Besides, Jack absolutely would have like 200 overdue books and absolutely no shame about it and you can’t change my mind. He’s always struck me as nerdy enough to be a pretty avid reader, but rebellious enough to just. Purposely break rules tied to reading (like the library system lmao) solely out of pettiness, because like hell The Man or whoever can tell him what to do XD The perfect blend of irresponsibility and a desire to create mild to moderate problems on purpose.

“Hey, free books are free books!”

“That’s not how it works, Jack--”

“FREE BOOKS ARE FREE BOOKS”

RIP to the High Council of Librarians, I hope they get their $95 back one of these days </3

Actually very very pleased with how the moodboard came out! The assassin!Rapunzel pics I found have no business fucking as hard as they do :O Like the star stocking with the terrifying-looking knife on them??? LITERALLY PERFECT. And Rapunzel is canonically an astronomy nerd!!! Like she charted the entire night sky for fun!!! As for Jack, I mean...he spends too much time (at least in canon) flying around the sky and talking to the moon to NOT be an astronomy nerd, so I will argue ‘til I’m dead that they bond over this XD

And the library pics, like??? I spent HOURS looking for the prettiest ones with precisely the right Vibes, and it paid off <3

As always, pic credits available upon request!

[mercerislandbooks]

Miriam and Nancy Pearl in Conversation

Hello, my beloved Island Books community! Dare I say it? I'm saying it. I'M BACK.

Islanders know me for various reasons--mom of four chasing kids at the local parks and schools, Daniel's wife, ballet teacher, writer, neighbor, and friend. But for those of you that have followed this blog a looooong time, you might remember that former Island Books bookseller James Crossley (now across the bridge managing our dear friend Madison Books) and I started the Island Books' blog back in 2011. Other duties and a pandemic took me away from it for a few years, but the dust is settling, the sun is shining, and OMG, Island Books is heading toward our 50th anniversary at the end of 2023. 

A 50th anniversary is no joke. There's a lot to say to honor my favorite place in town, so I'm lining up next to Laurie and crew to chime in. In the months leading up to the big day, I'll be chatting with current and past Island Books employees to trace the history and memories that make our store so special. I'll also be talking to our authors and literary friends who have a special connection with Island Books. Consider this project my yearbook to honor a local treasure, and if you read along with me, you'll see why Island Books is a pillar of our community. 

I'm kicking off my series with a chat with a woman who needs no introduction. Nancy Pearl is an American librarian, best-selling author, literary critic and the former Executive Director of the Washington Center for the Book at Seattle Public Library. But who she really is, to me, is one of the greatest book lovers of our time. She's someone I admire and wish to be like, she's funny, she's smarter than hell, and she's our dear, dear friend. 

Miriam: Nancy, tell me about the first time you visited Island Books. What are your memories there and what stood out to you about the store?

Nancy:  The first time I visited Island Books was in 2003 when the first Book Lust book was published. Roger invited me to come talk about the book. I loved the store. I think small and cozy bookstores are the best, and Island Books was one of those stores that are wonderfully curated with a glorious mixture of the popular and the unusual books that you wouldn't see at a Barnes and Noble, for example. It reminded me of Yorktown Alley Bookstore, the bookstore I managed in Tulsa years ago.

Miriam: I didn't know you managed a bookstore! That's good to know and explains a lot about you. I went and did my google duty and saw that the Yorktown Alley Bookstore closed, which happened to a lot of indies once Amazon came on the scene. Can you tell me a little more about working there? What kinds of books did you recommend to customers back then, and how have your recommendations changed between then and now? How did that experience help launch you toward library work?

Nancy:  I already had my library degree when we moved to Oklahoma and 2 daughters, ages 9 months and 31 months old;  7 years in Stillwater and then moved to Tulsa and my wonderful husband commuted back to Stillwater. He'd go in Monday mornings, sleep (in his office) Monday nights, come home Tuesday night, stay in Tulsa on Wednesday, and then back to Stillwater on Thursday and home again Friday evening. A good friend from Stillwater moved to Tulsa and opened the bookstore and when I was ready to go back to work I started working there.  I think I said this already, but it was really a wonderful bookstore. I sold many many copies of all my favorite novels from 1980 to 1989, when I went to work at the public library, including Anne Tyler's Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children (it was the then Random House rep, whose name I don't remember, who told me to read it, and he was so right), Pat Conroy (I met him at what was then called ABA conference in New Orleans and invited him to come to Tulsa and he did - I loved Prince of Tides. When the library staff (5 of us) went to dinner with him, he told us wonderful stories about his family and writing the book.

This was back in the day when it was time to order from Ingram you called them up and gave the order over the phone. I used to love calling them because all the women (and they were all women) had the loveliest Tennessee accents.

Miriam: I loved Prince of Tides too. Will you tell us about your experience with bookstores during the publication of your Book Lust series and with your debut novel, George and Lizzie? Do you have some favorite experiences from those times? James Crossley and I had the honor of being in conversation with you at Island Books when that came out and it was so much fun. There’s nothing bookstores love more than helping elevate authors!

Nancy: I loved doing the book tours for the Book Lust books (especially the first one) because I got to meet wonderful readers all over. I remember speaking at a bookstore in Washington (I think it was the one on Vashon, but it could actually have been Island Books) and the owner (maybe Roger) found a copy of one of my all-time favorite novels - Merle Miller’s A Gay and Melancholy Sound which was long out of print and gave it to me - And Lisa Scottoline chose More Book Lust as the Today Show bookclub book, which was thrilling - they flew me to New York and we were both on the show talking about the book. Lisa was wearing a beautiful Chanel jacket. Also I have to say here that I’ve really wanted to name More Book Lust this title: Book Lust 2: The Morning After. 

Doing the tour for George & Lizzie was wonderful because I love talking about those characters and why I wrote the book. I especially enjoyed the times the program was as an interview, like it was with you and James at Island Books. I was interviewed at the library in Tulsa, where some of George & Lizzie takes place (in Tulsa, not the library, but I worked at the library) and many of my old co-workers and old friends came to the event  The tour was really soon after the novel came out so not a lot of people had read it yet. I always felt the need to tell every audience that the novel wasn’t autobiographical.

Because I love meeting readers,  I always liked going on book tours—I’m so glad I got to do the ones I did. 

Miriam: The readers love you too, Nancy! Thanks so much for making time to answer my questions, for spreading your passion to so many others, and always offering your support to indie bookstores like ours. 

To our Island Books community: Keep an eye on this space in the coming months—leading up to our 50th—for my upcoming conversations with Laurie Raisys, Roger and Nancy Page, James Crossley, and many more characters who’ve made Island Books the place it is today. There are so many memories and special people connected to our store. I’m excited to share them here.

—Miriam

[lemx-n]

Mi Estrella || Camilo x F!Reader

Words: 2100

18+ dni

Definition: Y/n Castillo always has a stoic face on, speaks in almost whispers, a complete opposite of Camilo Madrigal. The boy wonders why the girl always seem 'emotionless'.

"You can be yourself around me."

"You don't understand Camilo, I don't want to hurt you

Inspired by: A splash of paint and a wave of emotions (Bleepiebloopie on AO3)

Chapter 2 [rewrite]

Previous: Chapter 1

••❣︎❤︎❣︎••

Y/n is cooking dinner by herself while checking the wall clock constantly, her brothers will be here soon. For more information about them, their names are Alejandro, Orlondo, Jacinto, and Raymundo and they are quadruplets, 8 years older than her.

The girl bites her lip recalling what happened earlier. She defended Camilo Madrigal and got asked by him to be his friend and she agreed without a thought. Y/n lightly slaps herself. Maybe it's because she doesn't want to come off as rude.

Y/n has a reputation, the majority of it is her being secretly evil. Perhaps she needs someone to be friends with to debunk the rumors. But it's Camilo, Alma Madrigal's first grandson, she was supposed to not get any contact with any of the Madrigals. She cursed herself.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

✰Chapter 2✰

End It

The front door creaks open, signaling Y/n who just finished setting up the table that they're here. "Hola hermanita!" Jacinto greeted. The girl greets back, sitting down on her seat, "By the way, I placed Mirabel's delivery to you in your room Jacinto." Raymundo gasps, "You cooked my favorite! Thank you Y/n." sitting down on his seat as well. He looked stressed and tired but Y/n decides not to ask him about that now.

The Castillo siblings eat peacefully with a little bit of chatting about their day. Y/n keeps zoning out because of her thoughts invading her mind. "Y/n? What's wrong?" The eldest of the quadruplets, Alejandro, asked. Y/n's hands shake nervously. "Y/n, calm down." Orlondo said while giving her a dirty look.

Y/n is alarmed and quickly takes deep breaths. She then quietly clears her throat, "I have a friend now." She mumbled. Alejandro nods, "That's nice, as long as you control yourself, it'll be okay." He gives a small smile, happy that there's someone outside the family who accepts her, "So, what's their name?"

Y/n gulps, fiddling with her skirt, "Camilo." "Camilo what?" "Camilo Madrigal."

The sounds of utensils hitting against the plates stop, and all 4 pairs of eyes stare at her with shock. Orlondo looks at her with an enrage look, "What the hell Y/n? Didn't Señora Madrigal tell you to not go near any of her descendants or else we'll get banished from this place!?" "Orlondo, shut it." Alejandro retorted in his usual quiet tone like Y/n's.

He reverts to the girl, "Y/n, you must end your friendship as soon as possible, much better if it's tomorrow. I understand if it's hard for you and find another friend but it's for the best." Y/n nods with her head hung low, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking right." After all that, the siblings went back to eating before their food gets cold.

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It is now morning and it's one of the days when Y/n helps all of her brothers, each of them are a librarian, a market stall owner, a tailor, and a farmer. This is hectic for the poor young girl.

She's at the library, for now, arranging books on their correct shelves subsequently catching a glimpse of her once favorite book as a child, it's a (favorite genre) story.

Suddenly, someone taps her shoulder, "Hola amiga!" A familiar voice beamed in delight.

Y/n flinches at the word 'amiga'. Remembering her brother's advice, she must end it now yet Camilo grins, "You like this book too? I saw you gazing at it, looks like we have something in common. By the way, are you free? We can talk about it."

"No, I'm busy." Y/n bluntly said, hoping Camilo will stop looking at her with joy but oh boy was she wrong. "I see, want me to help you? A friend will help a friend you know?" He keenly asked, "And I can see you're struggling a bit 'cause you're still holding your fan."

In the corner of Y/n's eyes, she catches sight of Alejandro at his circulation desk. She can feel his eyes on her silently telling her to immediately end it. Without waiting for her answer, Camilo sets the remaining books in the box in their right places, in a short time too, "All done! Now, what do you say if we'll go eat ice cream and just talk? I'll pay." He grins from ear to ear.

Alejandro observes the two, the way Camilo looks at his sister is different, sure some others stare at her with admiration, maybe it's because he is her friend. Y/n's only friend.

Though Alejandro always thinks about what's best for his siblings, he's hesitant about this. Sure he often has a stoic face on, but he has a sensitive heart. Quickly, he stands up to walk toward them.

Y/n sighs, not aware of the sounds of footsteps, "Camilo, I have something to say to you." "Have fun." Her brother said from behind her. Y/n jumped at the sudden voice making Camilo in front of her quietly laughs. "Alejandro?" She tilts her head in confusion. "I believe that you can control your emotions. Maybe if Señora Madrigal sees that you're not that dangerous, she'll allow it." He murmured so that only Y/n can hear. Then, he walks back to his desk.

"What was that?" Camilo asked with a puzzled look. "That's my brother, he just told me a few things." Y/n replied.

The boy rubs the back of his head, "So, about my offer of going outside to get ice cream." Y/n nods, walking to the exit with Camilo.

When they're outside, a group of children swarms around Camilo. "Hola Camilo! Wanna play hide and seek with us?" Alejandra asked, the other kids eagerly nods at him hoping he would say yes. "Ay, sorry children, but I'm hanging out with my friend here." Camilo gestured to her with a big grin on his face, without saying her name because he is not sure if she wants him to. Y/n wonders if his cheeks get hurt by smiling so much but she shrugs it off.

They seem hesitant at going near her, until one unaware girl with twin braided hair walks up to her, "I love your dress! My name is Cecilia, what's your name miss?"

Y/n replies, "I'm Y/n Castillo." "You're the quiet girl right!?" The coffee kid named Juancho asked in a rambunctious voice. "Can you teach me how to walk gracefully like you?" Another kid butted in. "Why are you covering your face?"

"Alright alright, that's enough." Camilo slowly pulls them away from Y/n. "We'll play next time okay?" He gives them a thumbs up but they just groan, "Please please please please? Only one round?" All of them clasped their hands together as they pulled a puppy-eyed look.

Camilo purses his lips, looking at Y/n for approval or not. The girl says, "I don't mind." The kids jump in joy, "Come play with us too Y/n!" One of them grabs her wrist. Y/n clenches her teeth, she always panics when someone is touching her but she never shows it.

They drag the two to somewhere that has many hiding spots. Camilo raises his hand, "I'll be the seeker." He went to a wall to start counting. The kids and Y/n instantly sprint to their spot.

Luckily for Y/n, she is great at hiding. Hide and seek was always her favorite game especially if she was the hider. She finally founds a spot that has a dog/cat in it. She's a big dog/cat person so she begins to pet it. She awes when they start leaning onto her gentle hand.

"Aren't you a cute little fella?" She cooed.

Meanwhile, with Camilo, he found all the kids. He keeps searching for Y/n, it's been 10 minutes yet there's still no Y/n has been found.

He moves to the other side of a building where he hears soft tittering. Camilo peeks behind a cart and there he finally sees Y/n playing with an animal. He thought he saw fireflies around her but he guessed it was just his hallucination due to a long time of seeking.

Though Camilo was about to scare her, he decided not to. She looks so gentle right now and her giggling feels like music in his ears that he can't help but let out a sigh and continue to stare at her.

A few minutes later, he realizes what he's doing right now is creepy. He cursed himself before showing himself to the girl. He chuckles, "Found you."

Y/n didn't care that she just lost, instead her main focus is on the dog/cat. Camilo frowns, "Hellooo? Are you ignoring me?" He waves his hands frantically.

"Sorry Camilo, but she's just so adorable." Y/n scratches its head as it wags its tail/purrs.

Running footsteps can be heard, scaring the animal, it runs away. Y/n pouts, "There she goes." She mumbled.

"Hahaha! We finally found you Y/n!" The kids laugh. Camilo waves his finger at them in a teasing manner, "Nuh-uh, I found her first!" They just stick their tongue out at him. Camilo continues, "Now, you said only one round, time to go to your parents." The kids obeyed and ran away, leaving the two teenagers alone.

Y/n pats off the dirt on her skirt. "Do you want to continue our hang out?" Camilo nervously grinned. "Mhm." Y/n nodded.

°

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°

°

Camilo and Y/n are enjoying their ice cream together while sitting down on a bench near the market. The boy silently laughs at Y/n who still made an effort on blocking her face from him.

"I've never seen your face before." He whispered but it was enough for the girl to hear what he said. "I just don't want to show it." "Why?" "As I said before, it's too early to say it."

Camilo just nods, swallowing the end of his ice cream cone. "Hey, let's play a game." He said after Y/n finished her ice cream. "It's similar to hide and seek except I shapeshift as another person, while you try and find me." Camilo smirked. "And if I win?" "I'll give you some of my allowances and if you lose, you give me yours." Y/n being slightly competitive, she agreed. The boy stands up and runs to the crowd.

After Y/n counted to 20, she gets off the bench and start searching. Meanwhile, Orlondo is at his stall watching his sister from afar. He's quite mad that she's still with Camilo, but he decided not to make a scene in public.

Y/n looks from right to left, until she saw the back of an old lady. She slowly walks towards her and taps her shoulder. "Camilo." She said his name. The 'old lady's' lips parted as Camilo shifted back to himself, "H-How did you know so quickly?"

The girl just shrugs her shoulders, "I don't know, my guts just told me that it's you. Now your money." Her hand makes grabby movements as Camilo groans and gave her half of his allowance. Y/n laughs at his pouty face. This is the first time he hears her laughing but his hurt pride is stronger as he continues frowning.

Back to Orlondo, he tries to control his temper. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder, he turns and it was Alejandro. "She looks happy." He fondly smiled. Orlondo irks, "Yeah she does, but wasn't she supposed to end their friendship?"

"Yes, but I told her to have fun." He replied. "Are you stupid Alejandro?!" "Orlondo, don't shout in public." He scolded him but Orlondo disobeys, slapping his brother's hand off of him, "She might hurt him or anyone! I thought we already talked about that last dinner! Do you want us to be out in the cold again Alejandro?"

Alejandro stares at him menacingly, "I know, but I trust Y/n, don't you think it might drive her crazy when she has no communication outside the family? Maybe it can show people, especially Señora Madrigal that she is not a threat. Also, I just want to see her happy again." Orlondo just scoffs at him, "Yeah right, say that now. If something happens in the future, don't go crying alright?" He then begins to close his stall.

☼︎End of Chapter 2☼︎

[lxngbottom]

Bookshelves. | N.L. (Chapter 1)

in which the reader helps out in the library, & she catches the eye of neville.

warnings: swearing, fuckboy!nev, use of weed, mentions of sex, & i think that’s all?

year 6!nev — year 5!reader / gryffindor!reader (but anyone can read obv)

shoutout to bratty for me becoming obsessed with fuck boy neville

faceclaim for sam riley: louis partridge

year 6, slytherin.

READ THIS BEFORE STARTING THIS SERIES!

—

there was always some sort of unspoken peace that laid in the hogwarts library. some students would digress and say that it was awful for the sole reason that they were forced to study in there. but for others, as in people like y/n, they found solace in the dusty, but elegant room of the castle.

that was maybe why y/n had decided to ask about helping out in the library. she spent most of her free time there, unless she was hanging out with her best friend, ginny weasley. but, ginny had quidditch practices, and she was definitely more of a social butterfly than y/n was. if y/n wasn’t with ginny, you would definitely find her sitting in the library, book in hand.

her small job in the library was quite simple. she would help madam prince return books to their designated spots on shelves, write down due dates, overall just do the same things that the librarian herself did. it was quite nice, actually. constantly being around books, prince giving her new recommendations every week.

today had been a bit slower than usual, as it was the weekend and most students were spending their time procrastinating their weekend assignments, and deciding to go to hogsmeade instead. ginny had of course invited y/n to attend, but she had an obligation to follow. so, she kindly turned down the offer and went off to the library instead.

y/n was stacking returned books on top of one another when she heard a nasty cough. she turned around and realized it came from madam prince,

“are you alright?” the girl asked kindly, “that cough sounds like something serious!”

the librarian let out a slight chuckle at the girl’s words, “oh... i’m quite alright, dear. this weather is the problem! why can’t the cold just stay outside with the snow?” she joked, but then another loud, seemingly painful cough came right after.

y/n sighed and glanced around. she noticed that one of the windows was wide open, so she walked up to it and slammed it shut.

“better?”

madam prince looked in her direction, sending her a small smile,

“much better, dear...”

time continued on, and y/n continued to work in the library. she dusted off tables, made sure the few students that were actually in there had everything they needed.

and right as y/n went to sit down, madam prince stood up.

“oh my, i don’t feel so well... i can barely even focus on my work...” the woman sighed, “but i can’t just leave. i’ve never taken a day off before!”

y/n chuckled, “well, you really do sound sick. maybe it’s finally time, madam! i mean, like you said, you’ve never taken a day off before. and, i feel like if dumbledore heard that cough... he would tell you to rest up.”

y/n could tell that madam prince was pondering on the thought. some people would say that madam prince was rude, or even uninviting. but truth be told, she was actually a kind woman. y/n adored learning about her own times at hogwarts, and chatting about random students that came in and out of the library. y/n could go as far to say that madam prince was one of her favorite people at hogwarts.

“i just don’t want to close the library. students should be coming back from hogsmeade soon, which means that they’ll come here for some last minute studying. no... i can’t leave!”

y/n narrowed her eyes at the woman, “you don’t have to close the library... i can take care of everything!”

madam prince seemed shocked at the girl’s offer, “darling, as much as i would—“

“seriously! i can do it! i know how to do everything that you know how to do! i’ll make sure everything is clean before i lock up... and i’ll do everything i can to make sure everything stays in order! i swear, your library will be the same as it was if you leave.” y/n pleaded, for some reason, really wanting to take this first time opportunity.

“i just don’t think it’s the best of ideas, y/n...”

“please?”

“i don’t know...”

y/n clasped her hands together as she stared at the woman, her eyes filled with desperation. madam prince sighed at the girl’s puppy dog eyes, and she slid a book to y/n that she had been checking for damage.

“fine...” madam prince breathed out, which y/n squealed at, “but, you have to make sure everything is in order! all of those students are most likely going to be back soon, and you need to make sure you can actually handle it!”

“i can, i swear! i can do it!” y/n replied, getting up from her chair. she reached over and handed madam prince her own bag, “i’ll protect this library with my whole life if i have to.”

the two laughed, and madam prince took her bag from y/n’s grasp.

“well... i suppose i’m off, then! good luck, miss y/l/n!” madam prince smiled, “you’re going to need it...”

“right! feel better!”

and with that, madam prince exited the library. y/n smiled as she glanced around. she always dreamed of having the library to herself, being able to go or really do whatever she wanted. and besides, she could handle a packed out library. she had already quite a few times.

just as y/n went to put some returned books into a bin, a girl walked up to the librarian desk. she simply slid y/n the book, asked if she could check it out, and y/n put a stamp on it, and made the girl sign her name. the girl smiled and thanked y/n as she left the library,

“see? i got this.”

-

when all of the students arrived back from hogsmeade, it seemed as if they were making themselves known. and all of the other students that had been in the library left, as most of them liked to avoid socializing, and they knew what was to come.

y/n prepared herself, sitting down in the chair and twirling her wand in between her fingers.

“hey, y/l/n!”

y/n looked towards the entrance, and saw an almost too familiar boy walking towards the desk.

“hey sam!”

sam riley. how could y/n even describe him? he was all sorts of things, but more or less a great friend to her. they were the perfect gryffindor and slytherin friend duo, even some students convinced that they were together. but, they weren’t, much to sam’s dismay of course. he would never tell her that, though. if being her friend was all he could be, then he was just fine with that.

he wasn’t crude like some of the other slytherins were. as a matter of fact, the first time they met involved sam defending y/n while malfoy was teasing her. she was in her first year, while he was in his second.

yeah, they went a long way back.

“figured you’d be here... beings how it’s a hogsmeade day and i didn’t see you at that one book shop... oh, what’s it called...”

y/n chuckled, “i’m always here, sam. you know this.”

sam flashed her a toothy grin, “that’s probably a good thing, beings how i don’t think i’ll ever lose track of you.”

the boy smirked as y/n hid her face, trying to hide the fact that she was smiling like a grade school girl.

“i got you something, though...” he began, pulling something from his pocket and sliding it onto the desk. y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she grabbed the small box, opening it with a confused look on her face.

when she opened it, she gasped.

“sam! wh—why? how? what?”

he chuckled as she observed the gift,

“i saw it today and the only person i could think of that would like it... was you. so, i got it.”

y/n sent him a sweet smile as she continued to observe the charm bracelet. the few charms that were on there was a lion, (because she was in gryffindor, of course.) a book, and the moon.

“i love it... really, i do. thank you, sam.”

“it’s no problem, doll.”

y/n reached over the desk and hugged the boy quickly. he offered to put the bracelet on her, which she kindly accepted. sam watched as she squealed excitedly from how the charms shined in the light, and he swore he could’ve kissed her there and then.

“well... i should probably go before the evening rush starts swarming in. there’s a lot, by the way!”

y/n nodded and sent him a smile, “alright... i’ll see you later?”

“yeah... later, y/l/n.”

and with that, he parted ways from her, but not forgetting to get one last glance at her as she began to wipe down the surface of madam prince’s desk.

-

sam and madam prince were right. a lot of students did end up coming by to study, to finish assignments, or just to chat with their friends. most of them were a bit riled up from the day, so y/n of course was forced to shush people as she walked by. it wasn’t something that she was necessarily keen on doing, as she hated coming off as rude to people. but, this was apart of the job.

at one point, a certain, but familiar group of boys had walked in. they were all giggling, eyes bloodshot. they had taken a table just a few ways away from y/n, which she didn’t mind. until, a weird smell started lingering off of them, but she simply ignored it.

it was none other than harry potter’s little group of friends themselves. ron weasley, seamus finnigan, dean thomas, and neville longbottom. she knew them quite well obviously, as she not only was in gryffindor, but had spent some time with harry, ron, and ginny at the burrow throughout the years. they rarely ever looked her way in school, though. she figured it had something to do with her being a year below them. but, it didn’t really bother her.

what was bothering her was how loud they were being. even other students had told them to shut up a few times during the last thirty minutes they had been here.

so, y/n prepared herself mentally, and she walked up to the group of boys. the smell became stronger and stronger as she got closer to the table.

“oh, hey, y/l/n!” ron chuckled, shaking his head at what y/n only could assume to be as a joke.

“hey... could you guys maybe be a bit more quiet? if not, i might have to kick you guys out. and... i really don’t want to do that...”

some of the boys laughed at her words, as she was much more less intimidating than she was trying to make herself out to be.

“yeah... sorry! we’ll be more quiet, y/n.” dean agreed, a smirk on his face. y/n sent him a small, awkward smile, thanking all of them.

she looked at the scattered books in the table, and she began to collect them. “i’ll get these out of the way if you guys aren’t using them.”

she leaned over the table, her cleavage exposing just a bit, but some of the boys noticed. specifically neville, who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was staring. seamus nudged his arm and whispered about her “cute little bra” in neville’s ear, which neville smirked at.

y/n looked over at the two boys, not really wanting to know what they were saying.

“by the way...” she coughed, “you guys smell like weed.”

and with that, she walked away, books in hand. the boys simply just shrugged and went back to their conversation. but neville? he watched as y/n walked back over to the desk, staring as her cardigan flowed, and how her perfect legs carried her. he licked his lips, a sudden interest lighting in his chest.

“don’t even think about it, longbottom.” ron suddenly spoke up, making neville turn his head.

“what the fuck are you talking about, weasley?”

ron chuckled, “y/n. i see you staring at her. but, she’s off limits. she’s ginny’s best friend, you know that. plus, she won’t be able to give you what you’re looking for. ginny told me that the poor girl hasn’t even had her first kiss yet...”

all five of the boys watched as y/n struggled setting all of the books down, accidentally dropping one. she glanced around, probably making sure nobody saw it, but she huffed as she realized all five of the boys had witnessed her clumsiness.

“also... she’s a bit—clumsy.”

neville kept his eyes glued to the girl’s figure as he went to respond, “so?”

ron scoffed, “so? she’s not one of the girls that you can just shag and move on, longbottom. first of all, she’s a virgin... and we all know what happens when you fuck a virgin. and two? i heard that sam riley and her are a thing now.”

harry laughed, shaking his head, “really? she always said they were just friends.”

ron shrugged, “that’s what i’ve been told. ginny says it’s not true, but girls keep each other’s secrets like that... so who really knows?”

“sam riley? you mean that douche in slytherin?” neville spat,

“yeah! they’ve been friends since she first came to hogwarts. i thought you knew that?”

neville looked back at her once more, licking his lips, “didn’t know they were that close...”

suddenly, sam riley himself came strutting through the library, earning a few stares from some of the love sick girls in the room.

“speak of the devil...” seamus added, earning a few nods from his friends.

they watched as sam and y/n began to chat, y/n’s smile becoming much brighter as he told a stupid joke, making y/n let out a small giggle. neville felt his chest tighten from the laugh, as it was probably one of the prettiest sounds he ever heard.

“well... if they aren’t together, he definitely fancies her, that’s for sure!” dean spoke, a small chuckle laced within.

y/n chuckled at sam’s joke as she began to pick up a bin. sam looked over to see neville longbottom and his friends shamelessly staring at y/n. he huffed slightly, knowing how neville and his friends were with girls. well, neville at least.

him and neville had a momentary stare down as y/n began to walk away with a bin. but sam tore his eyes away, snatching the bin from y/n’s hands.

“hey! i have to put those up!” y/n whined, trying to grab the bin back from his hands. he tore it away once again, and shook his head.

“well... i’ll help you, then. sound good, doll?”

y/n sighed and agreed as she rolled her eyes. she grabbed another one of the bins, and began to lead both of them to the designated bookshelf. neville stared at both of them as they began to put the books away, only not being able to hear their conversation anymore.

ron coughed awkwardly before he spoke, “seriously, longbottom... i usually don’t care about these sorts of things... but, just don’t try and do anything with her, alright?”

neville turned his head, looking at his ginger friend. he sent ron a small smirk before nodding,

“alright... i’ll stay away from her.”

-

alright, this is my first multiple part fic on here, and i’m really excited for it! let me know if you would like to join the tag list for it in replies, or my inbox!

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

[cynergy-laughter]

Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All! Headcanon #9

So I have this idea of a scenario: Everything that went wrong went wrong yesterday, with time running out, and there was so much to do before going to bed, you had to scramble and multitask getting projects and assignments redone before realizing it’s the weekend. And ALL the brothers had a hand in your grinding day. So a sleep-deprived MC, with an attitude that can be described as, “I would literally fight God for an ounce of serotonin and a blissful hour of sleep.” goes to breakfast with the boys and they just snap, and starts roasting all of them and calling out their roles in his grinding day.

Lucifer: MC, so glad you could join us for breakfast.

MC: Don’t start with me, Lucifer, I had a very rough night...

Lucifer: You should watch your tone, MC, just cause it’s the weekend doesn’t mean I won’t punish you for stepping out of line.

MC: *record scratch plays in their head and turns head* Me? Stepping out of line? You have some nerve.

Satan: *eyes widen, a bit concerned for you talking back at Lucifer* Umm, MC, as entertaining as this is, are you okay?

MC: *looks at Satan, dark circles intensifying* No Satan... I’m not okay... After school yesterday I only had one assignment to do, and it turned into 5 assignments in the span of last night...

Mammon: *walks in* Good morning, what’s for eats?

MC: *head turns toward Mammon and points at him* You...

Mammon: W-What? What do you want human?

MC: You know perfectly what what I want, you dollar store mink stole.

Asmo: *nearly spit out his drink*

MC: You thought it would be fun to bring 6 ferrets into my room without my permission... do you know what they did?

Lucifer: He did what now?

Mammon: *kind of hurt from being called a cheap mink stole* what, did they eat your homework?

MC: I mean ferrets will find an interest to play with anything, my three completed assignments could attest to that if they weren’t torn apart and left around my room like a crime scene.

Mammon: There was no other place I could put them, I’m watching them for a friend, they would have torn up my room. You should have closed your door.

MC: I did, and you still opened the door, put them in my room, and they went for my homework. I hope you’re happy for kicking off last night’s chain of events for me you dime store student loan.

Mammon: *taken aback and sat down, and just stares into his breakfast*

Levi: *chuckles* Omg, you just got told! Lolololol!

MC: *turns to Levi* Don’t think you’re innocent, Leviathan, you overripe bananaconda!

Levi: W-What?! How dare you, who do you think you are, normie?! *stands up, and is scared when you get up after him.*

MC: Who do I thi- WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! Printing out an 1000 page fanfiction of TSL, on MY LAPTOP?! You used up all the dang paper, and I had to go to the store and get more printer paper, and I couldn’t start redoing my assignments until you were finished on MY LAPTOP. Do yourself a favor Lord of Weebs, and make your next Akuzon order a personal printer.

Levi: *eyes widened, sits back down shying away from confrontation*

Beel: *eating, enjoying the roast session going on*

MC: *looks at Satan* And you, you decided to put my source material on your reading list for the night. You took the books I was planning on referencing for my paper to your room.

Satan: *shrugs* You should have planned better beforehand, it’s not my fault you were having a bad day.

MC: Au contrair you blond Severus Snape knock-off. Because a demonic food processor decided to drink my potion project that I had finished brewing and had it chilling in the fridge overnight, which was clearly labeled, “Beel, do not drink my potion, signed ~MC”! *looking at Beel as he shouted the last part*

Beel: *stopped mid bite, and looked down in shame*

MC: ...And ate my favorite snacks that would have kept positive motivation in me throughout the night, but I digress. I couldn’t find the potion recipe I wrote down either, turns out I stuck it in one of potion books I also had in my room. So I had to look through the library just to find the book because you put it in a place I couldn’t get to without going out to the garden and getting a ladder, which was awkward to bring in by the way. So thanks Marian the Librarian for doing a job that literally no one asked you to do.

Satan: *blushing mad, but stayed silent*

Asmo: *giggles* Aww you guys are getting chewed out, by MC!

MC: Asmo... you intrusive thot, do not think for one second you’re safe. I had to go shopping for the potion ingredients and printer paper, so I enlisted in your help, but instead of getting the ingredients I had to reign you in because you kept on getting stuff in the cosmetics department.

Asmo: I had a date that night, I had to look good!

MC: And trying to sneak them into my transaction so now I don’t have any money to buy food to make for dinner tonight. So thank you from the bottom of my generous heart, you wannabe James Charles.

Asmo: *eyes widen and he “clutches his pearls”*

Belphie: *looks at everyone, trying not to laugh*

MC: Belphie, I appreciate that you kept on trying to calm me down through all of this, but you fell asleep in the middle of me doing my work, and I would have let it slide, if you didn’t sleep on my paper’s outline. So there’s your contribution, you horse jockey cosplayer.

Belphie: *bit his lip and looked away*

MC: And that leaves you, Lucifer. You decided to make dinner last night.

Lucifer: Yes, and you told me yourself that it was delicious.

MC: Delicious and spicy... and everyone here knows what happens when spicy and me combine...

Lucifer: *was kind of sweating* Umm... in my defense... my definition of spicy would kill you, I made that pretty mild...

MC: Yes, but your mild gave me four hours... FOUR HOURS... that’s how long I was on the toilet for. I asked the group chat on my D.D.D. to get me my devildom history textbook so I could at least redo that assignment, Belphie wasn’t responding because he was asleep, Mammon, Asmo, and Beel were gone, Levi was live-streaming and turned his phone off, Satan was doing research and apparently put it on silent, and you were doing paper work, so I wasted 4 hours of my time trying to keep hydrated while I blew Mt. Vesuvius. Shut up Asmo. So thank you, Maleficient’s edgy teenage son, you single handedly gave me the most stress last night. I hope it was worth the punishment comment.

Lucifer: *eyes widened, shocked*

MC: And you know what the icing on the cake was? I realized at 7 in the morning, when I had finished everything, that everything was due on Monday and it was the weekend... I stressed for nothing while everything that went wrong went wrong... So this is my fault as well. Now, if you will all excuse me, I am going to be sleeping for the whole weekend, and I’ll be back to my old self on Monday. And if anyone thinks about disturbing me... just remember I have a pact with Every. Single. One of you. You will join me if you like it or not... I’ll send for my meals, I can’t make dinner tonight, and I’m taking this to my room. *takes breakfast* Now good day...

Mammon: MC we’re sor-

MC: I SAID GOOD DAY! *storms off into his room*

[elareine]

If you could, can you please write JayTim or RoyTim (whichever one you want) trying to be romantic and woo Tim (maybe with some puns, I love puns), but Tim is a bit oblivious towards it, because the other is so cool, therefore they must be trying to make friends and be nice with him and nothing more. So when he does finally realize its an italicized "Oh" moment.

Hi lovely!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this fill. I... ended up making it JayRoyTim, I hope that's okay? It just fit so well, but I can totally write something else with JayTim or RoyTim for you if you want :)

Also, it turned out to be about pick-up lines more than wooing, sorry. I might’ve gone overboard with googling the puns. It's long enough that I put it on ao3, too. What's your username on there? Then I'll gift it to you.

if you were a transformer (you’d be optimus fine)

“Well, here I am.”

Tim looks up, utterly confused. “I didn’t call for you, but… that’s… great?”

Roy waggles his eyebrows. It looks faintly disturbing. Redheads should maybe not do that. Or, actually, Tim revises mentally, thinking of literally every other redhead Dick ever dated—that’s just Roy. “What are your other two wishes?”

“Coffee and some silence to finish working this case?”

Roy looks weirdly deflated at that, but he does get him some coffee. Tim soon forgets about it.

—

(“How’d it go?”

“Does obliviousness run in the family?”

“Yes. Yes it does. Have you met Bruce?”

“…okay, fair. Your turn next.”)

—

“Jason? What’re you doing here?”

Sure, Jason and Roy have been spending a lot more time in Gotham lately. Something to do with a case, Tim assumes. Maybe even with the one that they worked on together in Star City five months ago?

Anyway. They’ve been around, is what Tim is saying. Not at the manor, but at Tim’s apartment and his workspace, cause apparently it’s not worth rebuilding their safe house after it went up in flames, and Bruce and Damian are too often at Dick’s place. He’s not exactly surprised to see either of them anymore. (Pleased, yes. But not surprised.) However, Tim has no fucking clue why Jason is currently grinning at him from the other side of the library desk.

At least Tim has the good sense to check his name tag before he gasps: “Jason?”

“Oh, hey, Tim.” Jason’s grinning. “Guess you figured out my new job, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head. “Color me surprised.” So this is what Jason’s spending his days doing. He’s gotta be shadowing someone, right? Tim’ll ask him tonight.

“I’ve always liked this place.” Jason’s gaze is far away for a moment. Tim badly wants to know what he’s remembering. Then the older man seems to come back to himself and gives Tim a weird—maybe angry?—look. “It’s a good thing I’m a librarian, too, cause I’m totally checking you out.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” Tim grabs his book and demonstratively walks over to the self-service scanners. Really. How rude.

—

(“Are you telling me he managed to resist you in your cardigan?”

“Apparently.”

“Aww. C’mere, babe.”)

—

So Roy blows things up all the time. No, really, Tim now totally understands why Dick was so happy when he heard the duo is camping out at Tim’s place for a change. His older brother even gave Tim a thumbs-up, for God’s sake. He must’ve known.

Cause yeah, there’s at least one explosion every two days. Or Roy dropping something cause he’s too focused on what he’s thinking to remember what his hands are doing. Or something dropping on him. Jason seems used to it; he just catches whatever it is or laughs at Roy. Tim… is starting to learn to do the same, actually. Whatever Roy comes up with at that moment is usually worth it, and besides, he’s kinda adorable.

Aaaaaaanyway. (He’s using that word a lot in his own thoughts right now. Almost as if he’s avoiding thinking about something. Hmm.) Tim’s not surprised when Roy walks into a room, stumbles, and slaps a hand over his eyes with a dramatic exclamation.

Tim, in shorts and not much else cause he got drenched in pollen earlier, just raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Roy?”

“Nope.” Roy’s hand is still covering his face, but Tim can still see his grin underneath. “I’m gonna need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Roy. You have both of these things,” Tim explains slowly, wondering if Roy sustained a brain injury or accidentally dosed himself on something. “And why insurance?”

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

God. Sometimes Tim wonders about the original Titans and their socialization for the two dudes if this is how they think making friends works. Then again, Kori, Donna, and Dick probably appreciated constant compliments about their beauty. It all makes sense. Roy must be so used to it that he even uses those same methods when someone unexceptional like Tim is around.

He smiles gamely. “I’m looking forward to hearing that phone call. Must be almost as great as the time Bruce tried to convince his insurance company that Clark dropping on his car wasn’t an act of God because God is demonstrably not a Kryptonian. Neither was the giant ape punching Clark out.”

Roy drops his hand at that. “…Batman did what?”

—

(“You were doing so well, too.”

“I knoooow. How much more obvious can we get?”

“I dunno, but I intend to try.”)

—

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!”

“Haha. No. Star Trek or die.” Tim’s answer is automatic. He’s had these discussions soooo many times with Kon before. Of course Jason also goes for the space cowboy soap opera.

Besides, Jason’s boyfriend is standing right next to him. He doesn’t mean to sound flirtatious with Tim. Or maybe he does, and it’s just good fun? Or maybe teasing him? Tim can’t figure it out, but he knows he doesn’t like the weird hollow feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it, so he changes the topic.

And makes both of them sit down to watch some classic Captain Kirk, of course.

—

(“Should I be insulted by that pick up line?”

“Nah. There aren’t that many lines that imply a polycule, though.”

A kiss. “Alright.”)

—

One of the things Jason and Tim have in common is their predilection for motorbikes and fiddling around with them. Not that makes them unique in the batclan; Tim has never spent days quietly working side-by-side with Dick, though, the way he does with Jason. They started out with separate projects. Then Jason saw this vintage Ducati at an abandoned warehouse he was about to blow up and, well… Would be a shame, right? Tim just happens to have had one of these before—regrettably lost to one of Harley’s exploding baseball bats—so he offers his expertise.

It’s not because it means bending over the engine with Jason, closer than they ever are, their hands brushing when they hand each other instruments. It’s not.

Roy doesn’t join them. He’s too polite to say so, but he finds normal cars and bikes boring af. Doesn’t stop him from popping his head into the garage and whistling when he sees that they are shirtless and covered in grease. It’s a damn good look on Jason, so Tim can’t fault him for that.

Roy follows it up with a: “Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written all over you.”

Tim can’t help it; he blushes at the suggestive tone. Those two never stop flirting with each other, do they? So far, he has managed to avoid stumbling over them while they’re making out (not that they’re making that easy—the kitchen? Really?), and he’d like to keep avoiding that, thank you very much. He’s already feeling guilty enough for his fantasies as it is.

“Uh. I should clean up,” he mumbles and flees.

—

(“Dammit.”

“…do you think that was a rejection?”

“Nah. He was definitely checking me out before you came and fucked it up.”

“That’s saying something if you noticed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

—

So Tim has magically acquired cat ears and a very fluffy tail. Don’t ask. They’re gonna go away in eight hours, and until then, he’s gonna stay in the cave and work himself to distraction. Jason seems intent on keeping him company, though.

(It’s nice. Tim loves hanging out with Jason—that’s not the problem. The issue is that Tim is looking ridiculous, and Jason is being nice about it, and none of this is helping his stupid crush go away.)

They’re absently chatting about nothing until Jason says: “Kinda a pity you’re a cat, though.”

Tim looks up. Huh? Admittedly, he never pegged Jason as the type to go for catboys (though maybe… he did hang out with Kyle… perhaps it’s just that he definitely doesn’t go for Tims), but that’s still a weird pronouncement.

Jason is grinning. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.” He pauses. “Wait. Like even more than you already are. Uh.”

Tim sighs. Great. And now Jason is making fun of him again. “Whatever.”

—

(“A chicken?”

“Shut up. I panicked.” A sigh. “He was so cute with these ears.”

“…yeah, he was.”)

—

“You must be tired. You’ve been running through my mind all night.”

“I’m not tired,” Tim says automatically. Why does everyone keep asking him that tonight? Surely the shadows under his eyes can’t be that bad? He used concealer!

Something in Roy’s expression softens. “Aww. C’mere.” He pats the space on the couch next to him, and when Tim sits down, Roy pulls him half of on top of him and into a hug. “Relax for a bit, little bird.”

Tim sinks into the embrace, boneless all of a sudden. Roy just has that effect on him. Tim vaguely remembers thinking of him as his oldest brother’s cool friend and then Jason’s cool boyfriend, kind of a fuckboy but clearly good for Jay.

Now? Now, Roy just makes him feel safe.

—

(“So you spent the night on the couch just so he could sleep in your arms?”

“Yeah. Totally worth it.”

“Duh.”

“I just wish we could do that with him every night. Bet he fits perfectly between us.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“We might have to up the ante or switch tactics.”)

—

They’re talking about their favorite books—Tim doesn’t read as much as Jason does, but they discovered a shared love of sci-fi weeks ago—when Tim says: “Actually, that book kinda reminds me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Overly dramatic but good.”

Jason makes an offended noise, and Tim grins.

“I’m not sure which part I should argue about first.” Jason pretends to think.

Tim is always down to tell Jason that fuck his self-perception—Jason is a good man, one of the best Tim knows; that also feels too revealing right now. Instead, he gets up from their comfortable position on the couch and grabs the first stack on the table, carrying them over to the shelves to replace the gaps. “What kind of book would I be?”

“Babe, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

“Annoying and no one reads it?” Tim asks without turning around, trying to ignore the babe. That’s. That’s gotta be a slip of the tongue, right? Force of habit from spending so much time with Roy?

“No, fine,” and the emphasis is clear this time. Jason continues before Tim can reply: “Though if we’re talking books…”

Tim whirls around. “Save it. You don’t have to make fun of me just because I—“He swallows down the words.

Jason looks alarmed. “Tim—“

As if he can smell trouble, Roy chooses that moment to enter the room. Tim has barely heard him approach, Jesus. He doesn’t want to have this argument in front of Roy, though, so he just stands there in the middle of the room. Jason, too, has stopped speaking.

Roy, of course, takes one look at the awkwardness and decides to make it worse. Or more confusing.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he asks.

“As this isn’t Hansel and Gretel, no, I didn’t.” Tim checks his shirt, just in case this is an actual conversation opener and not just a weird attempt at a distraction. “Do I have soot on me?”

“Nope.” Roy shakes his head, and he’s smiling that smile again, the one Tim is startled to recognize, the one he thought is reserved only for Jason— “Because you’re hot.”

And finally, Tim gets it. “Me?”

“Yes, Tim.” Roy’s moving in closer. “You.”

There’s a soft touch to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim whirls around, expecting Jason to be mad, cause his boyfriend is—is hitting on Tim, right, that’s what’s happening, Jason can’t be happy—

Jason is smiling down at him. His hand is still resting on Tim’s shoulder, but it slides down to his collar bone, a gentle presence as he murmurs: “You’re so beautiful that you made forget my pick up line.”

Oh. Oh.

Tim says the first thing he can think of: “Are you a raisin?”

Jason starts grinning. “I’m not even gonna qualify that with an answer.”

Tim smiles back. “Cause you’re raising my hopes for a kiss right about now.”

And he gets one. And then another, and then Roy joins in, kissing Tim’s neck and then his mouth and—Yeah.

They’re too busy for any more pick up lines right now.

[unemployedlibrarian]

Rupert Giles x Artist!Reader Imagine

You sat at the large table in the center of the library. It was late, the lights were dim and it was blissfully quiet. The scoobies had all gone home for the night and Giles and you were left. He sat in his office, his back turned to you. He was doing research on a ritual, and you were supposed to be finding out everything you could about a demon supposedly connected to the ritual somehow.

You sat there and absentmindedly sketched him in the midst of some notes you’d been taking - were supposed to be taking. You were just having a small break… capturing the back of his head, how the light bounced off of his slightly mussed brown hair, the light hitting it just right so some lighter browns and a bit of grey shone through. The tenseness in his shoulders, his hand thoughtfully resting on his chin, his glasses neat against his face. You knew you could never capture him perfectly, never translate how serene it felt, sitting in that dim sanctuary watching him in secret.

He shifted and lifted his hand to rub his temple for a moment before standing. You covered your notes with one of the books in front of you and anticipated him coming over. You could just catch him through the gaps in his office blinds pouring some tea. He popped his head through the doorway and held out a mug.

“Chamomile?” He called out, just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded with a small smile.

“Please.”

You had spent many late nights in the library with Giles and the scoobies lately, and he had started brewing chamomile when you were around as soon as he discovered it was your favorite. You thought it was sweet of him. The past two nights the two of you had ended up staying late past the scoobies leaving. You loved staying late with him to get extra research done, it was an opportunity to get to know him better, and you had wanted to do exactly that in the past six months you'd been acquainted with him. These nights were always calm and still, and this had been an especially slow night.

Giles soon came back out with a tray of tea and biscuits. You were thankful for a late night snack. He sat the tray between you with a sigh and plopped down heavy in a chair across from you, already having eaten half of a biscuit on his way over. His eyes were tired, as they often were. Yoj thanked him for the tea, and he took a moment to finish his biscuit before starting to explain what he’d found out about the ritual so far. You blew on your tea as you listened, and let yourself take in the aroma and his gentle, slightly raspy tired voice. He removed his glasses and cleaned them as he spoke.

“Have you discovered anything more about our demon?” He asked, returning the glasses to his face.

“Oh! Yeah, I have some stuff here.”

You lifted the book from the top of your notes, accidentally revealing the sketch you'd done, already having forgotten. You quickly tucked it under your first page of notes, but you were sure he’d already caught a glimpse of it. You could feel your cheeks heat up and you cursed yourself in your head. You had watched him creepily from across the room and did a creepy little sketch of him with my creepy stalker hand. You hated yourself. You managed to squeeze out some words about what you'd found in your research, though you probably would have had a lot more to say if you had spent the last twenty minutes actually working instead of sketching the librarian.

He acted as if he hadn’t seen it, but you were almost completely certain he had. The two of you chatted over the tea and biscuits for a little while before he started to clean up.

“Perhaps we could both use some rest. Shall I walk you to your car?”

You nodded, and started gathering up your things. The corner of the sketch peaked out for a moment when you moved some papers, and he saw it again.

“Is that your work? ‘S very good.” He said, taking a final sip of his tea and turning on his heel to put the tray away.

You went to say thank you, but he was already all the way in his office. You gathered the rest of your things and tucked the sketch into the back of your notebook to hopefully never be seen again. He returned with his coat in his arms and you left the school together, him not having said another word about the drawing.

You reached your car, and were about to say your goodbye, when he spoke.

“Do I really look like that?” He asked, his voice an octave higher than normal and his eyebrows furrowed adorably.

“Well, you-” you stopped, and a small chuckle escaped your throat. “You looked so pretty sitting there, I just couldn’t resist.”

He was completely taken aback, you'd never been that bold with him. He stammered and straightened his glasses and took his other hand out of his pocket, put it back in, and smiled that gorgeous bashful smile. The one that always made its way onto post-compliment Giles’ face. He faced the ground and his eyes darted up and met yours. He scratched at the back of his head.

“Well I- er… Pretty?” The smile was still plastered onto his face and he was desperately trying to make it go away.

“Good night Mr. Giles, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You smiled wide, and he nodded vigorously.

“Y-yes, quite right, um- good night.”

And he was off. He practically ran.

[victorluvsalice]

We have made it to Winter Tuesday in The Chill Save with Smiler Always -- and the post-Werewolves pack era! New world, new occult, and some new things for Smiler to do -- like, say, see how werewolves react to a nonbinary vampire who has EVERY POSSIBLE BONUS TOWARD MAKING FRIENDS I CAN THINK OF (Incredibly Friendly trait, maxed Charisma, and a Pristine Reputation).

First things first, though -- Smiler had a few tasks to take care of back at theirs. Like flying around the neighborhood as a bat, getting in video game time in random places, because the game started me on a New Moon, and that meant automatic Vampire Energy regen whenever Smiler used their powers! Nice~ There was also the usual round of doing homework and harvesting their little garden, and then a shower because gotta keep clean. And then FIXING the shower because it broke right after they finished. Ah well, Smiler’s SUPPOSED to be learning Handiness this semester, sooo. . . Oh, and having an Erratic conversation with their pictures with their favorite people. :) Once that was all done, though, and they’d gotten through their only class of the day, it was off to Moonwood Mill!

The incredibly snowy Moonwood Mill! Wasn’t quite a BLIZZARD, but it was still coming down pretty heavily! Both outside and INSIDE the lot -- yeah, the library looks cool, James Turner (formerly known as The Sim Supply), but I think you kinda forgot what happens to places that don’t have full roofs with Seasons. XD Might fix that later. . . Anyway, Smiler went ahead and made a snow angel, then ventured inside to make some new friends. And right off the bat, sitting on the couch and serving as librarian, we had Coty Davidson --

Bonafide werewolf! Yes, it’s not obvious from their Sim form, but when you click on a Sim and it says “Disable Fury Effect,” you kinda know. XD Anyway, having found my werewolf test subject, I had Smiler go up and use their usual “Cheerful Greeting” --

Insta-friends! Now, not insta-GOOD friends, as Smiler often manages with regular Sims, but still instantly friends from one greeting. It appears that the hardcoded hatred between werewolves and vampires is no match for Smiler’s super-friendly nature. XD Smiler chatted with Coty for a good long while, asking a bit about Moonwood Mill (Coty saying that he’s not part of either pack, but he’s thinking about joining one because of all the great perks) and getting to know him better via the medium of Detect Personality (which -- I forgot to write down, darn it. Though I think he had Child of the Island, which is interesting!). They also availed themselves of one of the computers to Troll teh Forums for a little while -- an act which I’m sure the visiting L. Faba would approve of. XD

But hey -- now that Smiler’s made friends, can they actually get Coty to consent to letting them have a drink?

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Tech Guy

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 3,826

Summary: After renting a laptop from your campus library, you run into a download problem. A call to Library Tech Services for help introduces you to Tech Guy. Good at his job, but with questionable people skills, you learn to work with him. It certainly helps that he has an attractive voice.   

This was not good, not good at all. It was less than an hour to midnight, the sun long since having set, and time seemed to pas faster, not slower, the later it got.

Now, you considered yourself to be pretty good with technology, perhaps not a computer genius but good enough to be able to troubleshoot most of your problems. It was pure bad luck that the night your capabilities failed was the night before you had an assignment due in Graphic Design.

Your own laptop had been ruined after an accident in the library had left the screen nothing more than a web of shattered fragments, but thankfully the library also carried laptops for checkout which saved you from having to fork out money that you didn’t have to buy a new one. You thought that checking out a laptop would be a quick fix to your problem, but you underestimated how high their demand was.

The librarian you spoke with at the circulation desk put you on a waiting list much to your disappointment and you left the building empty handed, unsure when one would become available.

The answer was six days later, the night before you had something due.

When they left a voicemail on your cell phone around seven o’clock to tell you that it was ready for pick-up, you immediately hopped on a bus bound for the library. The anxiety should have been somewhat alleviated because you could actually start to work on it now but when you got back to your dorm room and opened it up, another problem presented itself: the program you needed wasn’t installed.

Bad luck 1 – You 0.

Every time you tried to install it a message would pop up prompting you to enter an admin username and password in order to start the process. You had never seen that message before and innocently tried your own username and password. When that didn’t work, you tried three more times just to be sure.

Next stop was the internet, everyone’s favorite place to ask questions. You ran a quick search describing the problem and read through a couple of chat room threads. Disappointingly, nothing really applied to the situation at hand.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have spent so much time trying to fix it because all that came of it was a lot of wasted time and you still hadn’t installed the program. You really didn’t want to take another trip to the library tonight if you could help it.

Frustrated and stuck you opened up the library’s webpage to see if there were any answers to be found. They didn’t but you did find the phone number for Library Tech Services, which was miraculously open even this late in the night.

Punching in the numbers you dialed and waited for someone to answer and when they did, it was short and to the point. “Library Tech.”

“Umm, hi… my name is y/n and I’m having an issue installing a program on my laptop rental.”

“Hmm. What’s the problem?” Again, not much to go on but the you could admit that tech guy’s voice sounded attractive.  

“Well. I clicked on the install button, but as soon as I did a message telling me that I needed admin permission to continue flashed on my screen.”

“Did you try your university username and password?”

“Yes.”

“Did you double check that you typed everything correctly?”

“Yes.”

“Did you try Google?”

“Of course, I did,” you answered with exasperation. He snickered and you felt your hackles rise. You called the number to get helped, not to get laughed at. Attractive voice be damned.

“I promise I exhausted every trick I know, I’m not stupid. But I do have something to finish tonight so if you can help me out here, that’d be great.”

For a split second you felt bad for being short with him but the aggravation was quick to return. He was the one providing terrible customer service… why should you feel bad calling him out on it?

He must’ve gotten the hint because he cleared his throat and started being serious. “The library puts restrictions on its laptops because they don’t want people downloading stuff willy nilly. What do you need to install?”

“Just Adobe Illustrator.”

You heard him typing on a keyboard in the background. “Sounds okay to me. I’ll just give you the admin credentials so you don’t have to make a trip over here tonight.”

You started to say thanks until you processed the end of that sentence. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Normally we require people to come in person to fill out a form. Once the request is approved, a person is supposed to enter in the admin stuff, but I’m going to give it out over the phone to save you some time.”

His words left you speechless. You had no idea there was a whole process to do something so simple as install a program; you should’ve asked more questions before you walked out with it. It was a good thing to remember for next time. And the earlier guilt returned, too. He was being so nice now, bending the rules so you didn’t have to make another trek on the bus, which was quite frankly a gamble after dark.

You thanked him profusely, the tension draining from your shoulders. Once you told him the laptops id number and he was able to confirm that it was rented out to your account, he shared the username and password with you.  

With baited breath, you typed in exactly what he told you to and couldn’t help the happy noise that escaped you when it worked. It was impossible that tech guy saw your chair dance through the phone but he laughed again, making you question if he somehow knew anyway.

“Thanks, you’re a life saver!”  

He cleared his throat and said “Glad to be of service.” Then he hung up without another word.

You pulled the phone away from your ear and looked at it blankly. What the heck was that about? Thinking back on the conversation left you feeling very confused but you threw yourself into getting your images drawn up on Illustrator and soon lost yourself in the work.

You ended up staying up late well past your normal bedtime but the deadline was enough motivation for you to push through the drowsiness and yawns. Around 3:30 you finally finished and emailed it to the professor so you wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning.

Sleep came easy that night and you vaguely remembered dreaming about tech guy’s voice which was utterly ridiculous. He hadn’t even mentioned his name, for goodness sakes! Plus, he was so hard to read, bouncing between jerk and nice on a whim. Nope. You were not going to stoop to finding out who he was. Not a chance.

After yesterday’s incident, your first course of the new day was to go grab a cup of coffee. You weren’t an easy riser on a good day, even less so after being up until the wee hours of the morning and caffeine was going to be essential for powering you through your classes.

Your go-to place was a campus coffee shop two blocks down from your dorm. It was still winter but you found that as long as you bundled up, the walk over went quickly and the cold air worked wonders for organizing your thoughts. But the real reason it was your favorite was not its closeness, it wasn’t even for the coffee; it was because of the heavenly pastries they made daily. The croissants, the eclairs, the danishes… they were all excellent. None was above their banana chocolate chip muffins.

A little bell chimed as you opened the door and the blast of heat from inside the shop felt nice against your chilled cheeks. The familiar worker at the register looked up and smiled when they saw you. “Hey, y/n! Should I start working on your cappuccino order?”

“Yes, please!” You approached the counter, removing your gloves to make it easier to take out your card from your wallet. A gleaming dessert case also caught your eye and you tried to glance over discreetly. As subtle as you tried to be, the cashier knew you too well after serving you for the past couple of years.

“Oh, sorry. We’re out those again.”

“Again?” you questioned sorrowfully.

He gave you a sympathetic shrug. “They’re very popular, they always go fast.”

It used to be that you could get your hands on a banana chocolate chip muffin whenever you wanted one but the secret must’ve gotten out to the rest of campus because you’d struck out for the past weeks. With a dramatic sigh, you settled for a chocolate croissant. It was no muffin but it was something to tide over your stomach until lunch.

“You know,” you started conspiratorially, “How can someone be so talented yet stupid simultaneously? If that no-good-baker bothered to make more of them knowing how fast they sell, this wouldn’t happen.”

You had never actually met the baker that was the source of the yummy pastries. In fact, you’d never even seen him and only knew that he was good at what he did and that he never came out to the front of the shop. There was really no reason why you ragged on him that morning other than you had major plans for that muffin that now had to be put on hold.

The cashier chuckled as he rang you up and looked back at the door to the kitchen for a moment. “I’ll pass along the message.” He slipped the croissant in a brown paper bag and handed it, along with the travel coffee cup, over to you. ��“Have a good day. See you next time.”

You accepted it with a “You, too,” and were out the door to catch the next bus to your class.

*** 

Later that week, you ran into a familiar problem with the laptop. This time you needed to add Photoshop but figured that it shouldn’t be an issue now that you knew the password. So when you typed in the exact same thing as last time and the computer told you it was incorrect, you dragged a hand down your face and groaned. Well, you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Swiveling around in your chair you grabbed your phone and called the Tech Services line again. The only thing that would make this even better would be if tech guy answered again, that’s how your luck was going that week. And sure enough, “Library Tech Services.”

You refrained from groaning again. Out loud anyway. “Hi, it’s y/n again. I was the one who called about the admin credentials Monday night?”  

“What’s up?”

“I’m trying to install Photoshop right now and it’s telling me the username/password is incorrect, which is impossible because it’s what I used the last time.”

“Right. We had to change the password for our monthly maintenance, it’s a security thing.”

“You’re kidding,” you said surprise coloring your voice. “Any chance you can share the new one with me?”

“Technically, I wasn’t supposed to give that to you last time.”

It was time to turn on the charm and convince him like you managed to previously. As you pleaded with him to do you this favor he interrupted you.

“How bad do you need it?”

What was wrong with you that hearing him say that put your mind in the gutter? He definitely hadn’t meant it that way when he said it! He was much chattier this time around so you were able to appreciate his voice better and his voice just did it for you.

You cleared your throat. “It’s not an emergency this time, no impending next-day deadlines, but I do want to get working on this new assignment…”

“Okay, okay. You’re lucky I like you.” That was news to you because you didn’t get that vibe based on the last call. It was nice to hear though. Some clicks sounded from the other end of the line and you waited silently for a few moments before he was ready to say the new password.

“Whew, we’re good to go,” you updated him as the Photoshop installation started. Another moment of silence passed.

Finally, he said a quick, “Good.”

You weren’t caught off guard when you heard the click that signaled he had hung up. Unlike the last call, he hadn’t seemed rude and he did mention that he liked you. Maybe he was just an awkward sort of guy, despite his killer voice. That might explain why he worked an IT job, weren’t those kinds of guys supposed to have terrible people skills?

You worked with Photoshop for a bit and when you reached a good stopping point, you got ready for bed. That night you laid awake for a while, unable to drift off to sleep. Instead, you replayed the conversation with tech guy over and over in your mind.

He was very helpful when he wasn’t giving an attitude and he this was the second time he had bent the rules for you. That pesky word ‘like’ kept rattling in your brain and you started to wonder if that nice voice belonged to a nice face. Furthermore, was there a chance that he found your voice attractive as well?

***

Sunday morning on a college campus seemed like a smart time to visit the coffee given that most of campus wasn’t up yet, which increased the chances of you getting your hands on a banana chocolate chip muffin. Maybe even two or three if you were honest, to make up for the past several failed attempts.

The sun hadn’t been up long when you opened the door, the little jingling bell announcing your presence. A barrage of delicious aromas caressed your nose and to your extreme delight, one of the scents you detected was a banana-chocolate combination.

You walked up to the counter and the cashier smiled as he told you good morning.

“So… can I get three banana chocolate chip muffins?”

He merely smiled and started working on your cappuccino. “Of course. Reid just finished them so they still in the kitchen, piping hot.”

Reid must be the baker that was responsible for the muffins as well as responsible for never making enough. “Finally! This is a long time coming for me.”

“I passed him your message, I think he took it to heart.” He handed over the drink and turned to go to the kitchen. “I’ll be back with the muffins.”

He pushed the door open and for a split second you caught a glimpse of a side profile belonging to a blonde guy. He was too far away to distinctly make out any facial features but he had nice shoulders framed by his black tee and obvious blonde hair that was hard to miss. He looked cute to you, at least from a distance.

Those two details were the only things you took note of before the door closed, effectively blocking you from more staring. Too bad. It was totally ridiculous to think about but tech guy’s voice would be a good combination with baker guy’s looks.

You picked at the lid of the coffee cup while you waited for the rest of your order already anticipating how they would taste. Your plan was to only eat one this morning and to ration the rest, but you were honest enough with yourself to know that you might enter a feeding frenzy and have all three finished by lunch.

When the door opened up again your eyes searched for the seemingly cute baker but there was no sign of him. There wasn’t a chance to get down about it, however, because a smile lit up your face as soon as you saw the medium sized brown paper bag that held the muffins.

“Reid says these are especially for you,” the cashier said as he lifted the bag over the register.

You were quick to raise your hands to take it from him and made sure to thank him as you left, not questioning why Reid, a person you’d never met, would make a comment like that, figuring that he was referring to how you complained that the muffins were always sold out.

The morning air was especially cold as you trekked back to your dorm, your breath condensing into a fleeting, frozen cloud around your face and the only thing keeping your hands warm was the cappuccino you held between gloved hands. Still, the trip to the coffee shop was definitely worth it and you were hoping that it was a good omen to start the day off with.

***

Perhaps you were still experiencing the high of the morning victory at the coffee shop, but later on that night while you were working on homework once again, you started thinking about tech guy again. There wasn’t any need to call him; you now had both Illustrator and Photoshop on the laptop and there wasn’t anything else that you needed to install.

Still, you debated calling him. Not because you needed to but because you wanted to. Which was weird, even to you, but you had missed him the past couple of days, bad people skills and all. After the second call, you felt even more confident that he wasn’t as condescending a guy as you had first thought him to be. And you wouldn’t mind getting to know that awkward version of him better.

The hard part was you literally knew nothing about him other than he worked the night shift at the library. You didn’t have a name, a face, not even a work schedule to confirm whether he was working tonight or not. Reid must’ve been serious when he told the cashier those muffins were made especially for you because there had to have been a secret dose of recklessness mixed in there. How else would you explain this strange, and potentially creepy, call you were about to make?

The dial tone rang and you took a deep breath, not sure how this would turn out. On the fifth ring, someone finally picked up. “Library Tech Services.”

You laughed in relief. Tech guy was the on the other end of the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey, y/n. Having another crisis?” On one hand you felt a little embarrassed that you no longer had to say your name for him to recognize your voice but on the other, the possibility that he enjoyed talking with you, too.

“It may come as a surprise but I can get through a day without having a tech issue that needs solving.”

“Oh, really?”

“I swear.” You crossed your heart even though he couldn’t see you.

“Well, what do you want then?”

Time to be brave. “Actually, I called for you.”

“I would hope so, I’m the only who works this shift meaning I’m your only option.”

“No, um, I meant I wanted to tell you thanks for helping me out with installing that stuff on the laptop. You were a lifesaver.”

“I try.”

“Seriously! I definitely would’ve missed one graphic design deadline, potentially two if you hadn’t come to the rescue.”

That seemed to get his attention. “Is that your major? Graphic Design?”

“Yep. Don’t I give off bumbling artist vibes?”

“Hmm you seem pretty confident to me but there’s nothing wrong with that. My grandma was—” He started that sentence but abruptly cut off and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you saying I remind you of your grandma?”

“Shit,” he grumbled. “My friends told me to stop bringing her up when talking to hot people.”

“Don’t sweat it, she sounds like she was awesome so I’m honored. But back to the part where I’m hot… do you really think so?”

“Obviously. Do you think I hand out library secrets to every person who calls? Your voice is strong and you sound super smart so I tried my best to be cool with you.”

“Okay but future tip: hanging up on people and not telling them your name is rude, not cool.”

His embarrassment was tangible through the phone and you let him sweat momentarily before speaking. “Luckily for you, I like dorks such as yourself and am willing to look past it as long as I get your name.”

“It’s Reid. Reid Garwin,” he rushed to say.

Now that was interesting. You fell back on your bed, your brain trying to make connections. The name while not super common, wasn’t rare either and what were the chances that you met two of them on the same day. If Reid with the nice body and tech guy, er, Reid with the nice voice were one in the same, you wouldn’t be upset. Quite the contrary.

“Reid as in Reid who bakes my favorite sugar fixes on campus?”

“One in the same. You seen me there before?”

“Only once,” you reveal. “When I went to pick up some muffins this today.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Wait. Are you saying that you’re that customer who called me stupid the other day?”

“…Maybe.”

“They don’t let me out front cause I’m ‘too much’ for people but rest assured that the door isn’t that thick. I feel like an idiot for not recognizing that it was you though.”

The revelation that Reid was baking a tech hero, a winning mix by the way, thrilled you all the way from your head to your toes. At the moment you didn’t even care that he heard you calling him names at the coffee shop although you were sure the mortification would set in later.

“Would you like to go out sometime—”

“You do want to go out with me sometime—”

The two of you spoke at the same time and when you realized that the other had read your mind, you both giggled.

“After you,” you assured him.

“Shit, would you like to go out sometime? There’s a restaurant downtown that’s really good and I promise not to bring up grandma Garwin again.”

The plan was to pretend to think about it but your excitement overrode your brain and you said, “Deal as long as you promise to tell me more about her, not less.”

He started to answer you but stopped suddenly and you could vaguely hear him getting scolded by someone, reminding you that technically he was still on the clock.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, “The librarian on duty told me to stop flirting and get back to work. Stop by the coffee shop tomorrow though and we can talk more.”

You said your good-byes and rolled around your bed, the comforter thoroughly rumpled by the time you stopped. It seemed that your luck may be turning around for the better.

_______________

Thanks for reading my most self-indulgent piece to date. Also my longest! Reid may consider himself to be mister cool, but he is also an awkward bean who would make a great tech guy. It's also my first time experimenting with moodboards, let me know what you think :)

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Day 5

Prompt:  Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Word Count: 1,730

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01,​​​ @spoopy-turtle,​​​ @lizluvscupcakes,​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12

CW: Panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of self depreciation, mentions of horror.

Logan felt another burst of anxiety deep in his gut and sighed. This was the tenth time in three days, he was starting to be worried for his soulmate. He focused on his breathing, feeling for the familiar tug of emotion. After years of doing this, he’d ‘hacked the system’ so to speak by figuring out where the emotional connection was in his head. Once he’d figured that out, it was a simple matter of pushing emotions across it. So, he did that. He pushed a strong calm over to his soulmate, hoping their anxiety would lessen. He breathed out a sigh of relief when it did, when the pit of doubt left his stomach and his throat opened back up, when he didn’t have to struggle to keep his thoughts clear instead of giving in and drowning in the hate his brain spewed at him in that moment.

He hated the way the anxiety made him feel but also knew that his was tame compared to his soulmate’s. To combat it, he started happy stimming, flapping his hands near his face until he was grinning. He didn’t realize he was pushing his happiness through the connection until he felt the joy being radiated back. He stopped stimming, letting his hands falling back onto the library cart bring him out of his thoughts and remind him of his current task: to reshelf books.

Logan loved working at the library. He loved getting to read as much as he wanted, to have the ability to interact with a bunch of people or choose to stay by himself. The best thing about working in the library is that he got to see people’s faces light up when they found a book. Whether it’s the next book in a series they were reading, a book they’d almost forgotten about, one they had cherished memories of as a child, or a new one they were finding for the first time, he loved seeing the different expressions on peoples faces.

Today would be a good day for that as the library had invited a local author to come in and read his books aloud. Not many knew this, but he had two different pen names. One he used to write children’s books, the other was used to write horror stories with the main focus being human vs nature. Logan had researched the man extensively last night, not getting to sleep until a few hours before he had to get up for work.

The door jingled and a man in a hoodie walked in, making his way over to the children’s section. Logan watched him go, wondering what brought him here today, the reason for his visit to that particular section. When Logan saw him reach out a brush a spine, a soft smile lighting his face, he knew it was a nostalgic visit. He went back to his work, finishing in the adult section and moving to the children’s.

He saw that the tall man had sat down in a comically small chair compared to his height, his leg bouncing in some sort of anticipation. Logan felt the anxiety curling into his stomach again, making him want to curl up on the ground or scream in an emotion he was unable to put words to. Instead, he finished putting the books away and walked up to the man, ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him everyone was watching him at all times.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Logan sat on the ground beside the man, watching the way his head ducked further into his hood.

“Something like that.” The man muttered. His fingers were pulling on his sleeves even while his leg was vibrating. There was something unknown but familiar in the man that made Logan curious about him.

“You look like you could use a distraction.” He said, finally pinpointing the reason the man looked just the slightest bit off.

He chuckled but Logan knew there was little to no mirth in it. “Sure, that’d be nice.” Even so, his voice was genuine.

So, Logan started talking about bookbinding and the differences between modern and medieval Europe. He talked for a half hour or so. During that time, he felt the knot of anxiety untie and slip away, his thoughts clear, and an almost giddy sensation come from across the bond. He paused and realized that the giddiness was coming from him and being reflected back across the bond like a loop.

Logan smiled at the man sitting next to him, carefully watching him. He was no longer hunched into himself, no longer hiding from the world. He seemed to be relaxed, his shoulders were down and his head was up, hood thrown back. His leg was no longer bouncing and his hands were no longer tugging at his sleeves. He had a smile on his face and, in that instance, Logan was sure he could talk to this man for hours and never lose his attention.

Logan didn’t resume talking about his latest hyperfixation, glancing at his watch instead. “I need to get ready.”

The man reached out as Logan stood, helping him up but also glancing at his watch before a panicked look crossed his face. “Shoot, is it really that time already?”

Logan nodded. “My watch is always on time. Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Here. I just didn’t expect time to fly so fast.”

“Well, you know what they say about having fun.” Logan began tidying up the area, getting the small chairs and soft sitting surfaces to face the chair the man was sitting in as it seemed to be against the wall already. He found the copy of the book that was to be read and placed it on the table nearby before standing by the door.

The head librarian walked up to Logan. “What have you been doing with V. A. Strand this whole time?!”

Logan’s head would have spun around if he were in a cartoon. “What do you mean? Are you telling me that the random man I helped down from a near panic attack is the author who’s reading to the children today?!”

She looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course!”

Logan looked back to see the man,  V. A., smiling and greeting all the children and parents who filed in. He politely refused autographs and pictures but did allow the children hugs, which Logan thought was sweet. He hadn’t realized he’d been talking to one of his favorite authors of all time about bookbinding of all things for half an hour. Logan shook his head, perfectly content with the way the conversation went, the way he was able to calm the man down, the smile he got at the end of it. None of that time was wasted, neither was it made more special simply because he now knew the man’s identity. It was simply a slightly shocking discovery.

He nodded at that thought and turned back, watching the way V. A didn’t have to look at the book, knowing exactly which words were on which pages, what the pictures looked like. Logan wondered how many late nights he spent, pouring his ideas into words. Logan knew the man illustrated his own books and wondered how long it must take.

The reading was over before Logan was aware. About halfway through, he’d been told to get back to work so he grabbed a new cart and was at it reshelving books. He tried to listen in to the reading, wanting to keep talking with and to V. A., someone he’d only exchanged a few words with but he was already desperate to know their opinion on anything and everything. He wanted to know what he had rattling around in that head. After all, no one can be that quiet without having something on their mind. True, they could simply be quiet, but that meant they were either allowing their mind to wander or they were having thoughts on the discussion. Either one deserved to have those thoughts heard and appreciated.

Logan hadn’t noticed the reading was over until a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to look and found the object of his thoughts staring back at him, hand retreating back into his hoodie pocket. Logan smiled. “Can I help you with something?”

He nodded. “I think we might be soulmates?” The sentence came out as a question rather than the statement he surely must have meant.

Logan’s smile only faltered slightly in shock, the thought never having crossed his mind before then. “Why do you think that?”

He seemed to draw into himself, his shoulders rising and his head ducking down the slightest bit. Logan wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him everything was going to be fine. He didn’t, instead, he waited for him to speak. “Earlier when you helped calm my anxiety, I could feel a calm and almost giddy feeling as you talked. I don’t find bookbinding particularly delightful so I knew it had to come from someone else. I don’t know, I guess you seemed to be the obvious choice.” He shook his head. “Sorry, it sounds stupid now.”

He turned to go but Logan reached out a hand and gently grabbed his elbow. His hoodie fabric was as soft as it looked. “Hey, no. It’s not stupid. I hadn’t thought of it until now, too caught up in enjoying talking with you, but it feels like it’s possible. You wanna test it?”

He turned back, leaving Logan’s hand on his elbow. “How?”

“How many times have you panicked or had excessive anxiety over the past three days?”

“Including both times today? Eleven.” The statement was accompanied with a wince of embarrassment, as if he were ashamed of having emotions.

Logan nodded, a smile splitting across his face. “That’s as many times as I’ve felt it from you.” His shrug was much more nonchalant than V. A.’s was just now. “So, do you wanna get a donut from the shop down the street and chat sometime soon?”

He laughed. “That sounds nice. Although, I guess we should exchange names and numbers as well.”

They did so and V. A., no Virgil, walked out the library door, waving to Logan on his way out.

[glitterge1pen]

I Only See You In The Sun

Iwaizumi Hajime x reader, word count 2,838

In the afternoon the dust particles swirl in the library air, the dust from the books. Iwaizumi knows that his teacher making him cite a book on his essay is actually a practical idea, but he resents it still . He checks what section he should be looking at and makes his way to the far corner of the library. There are only a handful of students around, most studying, there is one group chatting lazily in hushed whispers. Iwaizumi sets his bag down on the nearest table, the one right in front of the window and starts searching the shelves for what he's looking for.

"Do you need some help?"

Iwaizumi turns to see you standing right by the table.

"I'm the library assistant this semester so I know where everything is, bet I can find whatever you're looking for faster than you"

Iwaizumi thanks you and accepts the help. You crouch down to inspect one of the lower shelves. Iwaizumi keeps talking, explaining the project more than he needs to. He gets down to the same height you are at. The two of you are huddled pretty close but you don't seem to mind, you're too busy trying to find him a good source for his essay. The sun is coming in through the window and he tells himself that's why he feels so warm.

"Here you go, this should work perfect but if you need anything else just ask"

"Thank you so much this really helps"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

Iwaizumi comes back at the same time, two days later. He only has so much time before practice but he wants to see if can work up the courage to talk to you some more. Something about you had drawn Iwaizumi in completely. Being around you for that short time had imprinted itself into his thoughts. He found himself thinking about the library assistant far too much all throughout the day. Not that he hadn't had crushes before but already the feeling he had for you was so strong.

When he went into the library, it felt stronger. Like the library itself had ate something different. It had a different scent, not bad or good, just not what it usually was. It smelled like those first few days back at school, when no people had been in the library for a long time, so it was just a carcass.

Iwaizumi started looking for you. He went to the desk first but the only one there was the librarian. He went to where he saw you last. He could see you from a distance. Sitting at the same back table. Your head laying on your folded arms, it was like you were taking a nap in the sun. He watched, just for a second. You were radiant, literally radiant, the glow of the sun reflecting off of you in a hypnotizing way. Like one of those things you hung in the window to catch the sun and it would send rainbows all over the room. You were a sun catcher.

He pooled all the courage he had from his chest and willed himself to talk to you. He had to he decided. He was going to talk to you. When he approached the table you pulled yourself up. When you pushed the chair up to stand it bumped into the plant pot behind it, you held your hand on one of the leaves as if to steady it.

"You need some more help?"

"Not really"

Iwaizumi said. You looked at him puzzled, not sure what he was trying to say or do now.

"I wanted to return this"

He said holding up the book you had helped him find.

"Oh I can take it then, I can stamp it and everything when I leave"

Iwaizumi should have thought this out more. He searched his mind for anything to say to you.

"I didn't know you guys still stamped the books"

That warranted another puzzled look from you.

"Yeah we gotta stamp the dates in, it's probably one of my favorite things to do around here"

"Really? You like being a library assistant then?"

He asked.

"I do, it's nice in here, quiet, it's like an independent entity in here you know, separate from the rest of the school. Plus I have an excuse to leave class early"

Iwaizumi mentions that when he gets to leave class early for a volleyball game it's one of the best feelings. You ask him about volleyball, if he's into it or if he's just in it to get out of class. Then he starts telling you about this story about Oikawa and Hanamaki. You laugh at the end like he'd hoped you would.

"You should come to a game sometime"

"Yeah maybe I will"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

It's after practice when Iwaizumi's head is the most clear. He can just sit and feel content, no worries or thoughts. But after having met you even in these moments of mental purity he used to have, there is now you. He has stopped by the library every day before practice for a whole week now.

"Oikawa"

His friend was the last person on the volleyball court, tossing up his few remaining serves of the day. Oikawa stops, catching the ball and spinning it between his hands.

"Is it-"

"It's not you, you’re playing fine"

Iwaizumi says, struggling to get the embarrassing words out of his throat. The ones he actually wants to say. Oikawa is waiting for him to say something, hand on hip, eyebrow raised in question.

"There's someone I like"

Oikawa tosses the ball aside with fever.

"Who! Who! Holy shit this is-"

Iwaizumi cut him off with a few threats to shut up. Oikawa had come to sit next to Iwaizumi on the bleachers in the gym, where Iwaizumi shoved his shoulder.

"You know the library assistant?"

"You would, wouldn't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Iwaizumi said, his voice booming harsh, Oikawa only waved his hand, like by doing so Iwaizumis loud angry sounds would fade into the air like febreze.

"Just seems like a situation you'd get yourself into. But I dont think Ive met them before. I don't remember seeing anyone in there that much. What do they look like? What class are they in?"

Iwaizumi found himself struggling to clearly see your face in his mind. This really bothered him because he had spent plenty of time at this point staring at you. That night when he was in bed he still couldn't see you in his head. It was like you were just a fuzzy memory. He wondered how he hadn't noticed the haze in all of his day dreams that hung around you. Like the particles dancing in the library sun.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

The next day when Iwaizumi comes to chat with you he tries to remember to focus on your face. But he gets so wrapped up in himself when it's just the two of you. And you are so fucking light. Everything about you. The way you talk, your laugh. It makes him feel like he isnt even there. Like there is a place that is just you two. It's always the afternoon too. When the sun is most glaring and bright. Your features a mix of shadow, sunrays, and that dark space that Iwaizumi only ever sees on old film photos. Especially because of where you sit in the back of the library. Where the lights don't reach, and the sun is all that's left.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

Oikawa is insisting that he meet you. Iwaizumi tries his best to bite his tongue when he gets into the library. But Oikawa has that shit eating grin on his face. All Iwaizumi can do is step onto his shoes and push into him as they walk. Oikawa knows the table you like to sit at because of how much Iwaizumi talks about you now.

"They're usually back here"

Iwaizumi says as he moves around some nearby rows of books, trying to see if you're around.

"Iwai, did you just make this person up to mess with me"

Oikawa is joking, Iwaizumi knows he's just joking, but suddenly it does feel like that a bit. Oikawa is on the other side of the shelf, he's gone from view now behind the tall shelf that hides the table from the rest of the library. Iwaizumi has this sinking sensation in his stomach, like something is wrong, like he really is alone. Like Oikawa is there, and the other students are too, and the librarian, but you arent and he's alone.

"Hey Iwaizumi!"

The terrible is gone. The terrible is gone he realizes. He turns around to see you standing very close behind him. He freezes up, shy knowing that Oikawa is eavesdropping on the two of you on the other side of the shelf.

"I didn't see you"

He says.

"Yeah I was off shelving. It's a pretty good work out, I think you'd like it"

"I actually got getting going, we gotta get to practice a bit early today-"

You interject, hopeful Iwaizumi notes.

"We?"

"Right, Oikiawa wanted to meet you"

"I wanted to meet him to, you talk about him a lot, and I want to meet your friends"

So Iwaizumi calls Oikawa over, even though he's positive that Oikawa had just heard everything you said. Even that thing about Iwaizumi talking about him a lot. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at Oikawa's need for an entrance like this. Iwaizumi turns over his shoulder to make sure that Oikawa is coming and when he turns back you're gone.

"Where'd they go?"

Oikawa asks, just as confused as Iwaizumi.

"I don't know? They were just right here?"

"I'm not an idiot. I heard them talking, I would have saw them if they went around to the other side of the shelf right?"

The boys once again search for you. It feels useless though, Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa has the same sense as Iwaizumi. That this is like flipping through the pages of a book trying to find one word without actually reading. You're gone.

"Maybe they got embarrassed? They did say some pretty, revealing, I guess things about the way they feel about you"

"What do you mean?"

Iwaizumi says to Oikawa as they push open the library doors into the cool air.

"They way they said I want to meet your friends, it was very sweet don't you think?"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

"You know I never see you around anywhere else? What class are you in?"

Iwaizumi and you are eating lunch together today. He had gotten some extra snacks for you guys to share from the vending machine. You are trying to open a bag of chips but it's not popping for you. You hand the bag over to Iwaizumi for him to try.

"3C"

You say nonchalantly. Iwaizumi assumed you mean 2C. Because 3C does not exist. When the school was still using the old building they had "3" classes, but now there were the "D" and "E" 1 and 2 classes instead. Iwaizumi makes a mental note to ask Matsukawa about you because he's in class 2C as well.

"These are delicious"

You say, putting another one of the chips into your mouth.

"You've never had that flavor before?"

"I've never even seen it before"

You say with a little laugh. Iwaizumi and you swap morning stories. He mentions how he took shit notes in class today, and you ask what chapters they went over. Your class, you said, was ahead so you let him scribble a few things down from your notebook. Then you show him a book you recently started reading. As you're talking to him Iwaizumi pushes open the window. A gust of air washes over the table.

Later in the day when Iwaizumi is telling Oikawa about how lunch went with you. He will say that it felt like you and him were floating in the air, contained by the wind, like you were in your own bubble. That when he opened the window it was like an endless wave and it washed over you. He says in a whisper, so only he himself can hear,

"It was like real water, they shone like how clean water does in the sun"

Oikawa doesn't know what to say. Letting Iwaizumi's profound words hang in between them as they walk home.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

Iwaizumi is leaving for a game. He's late to catch the bus with his team mates though. He hadn't been paying attention and let too much time slip by. He's jogging past the library when he steps on one of his shoe laces, it having gotten trapped between him and the concrete. It had made him lose his balance, he sighs in annoyance as he bends down to tie his shoes. The grass is sticky and wet from rain the night before, he really is lucky he didnt fall and fuck his shit up before a game.

He's starting to get uncomfortable in the heat of the sun when he sees you. You're standing in the library window watching him. When you see he's noticed you, you wave and smile. You mouth something to him, he gets closer to the window, trying to get what you're saying. He cups his hand around his ear. You say it again but he still can't understand. He's about to take another step when he's hit by a jolt of anxiety.

A big cloud had passed overhead, one that could have been drawn, it was so perfect. It had covered the sun though. You were no longer standing in the window. You had simply ceased. You hadn't walked away. You weren't there, at all. Iwaizumi didn't know what to do. He waved to the now empty window, telling himself it was just because the clouds shadow was messing with the reflection. But ran as fast as he could to the bus.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

Iwaizumi came into the cold air conditioned library and felt relief from the hot temperature outside. These days talking to you was exhilarating. It left him feeling hollow, weightless, and he told Oikawa you made him jump higher in practice but his friend only laughed.

"Hey wanna help out?"

Sometimes Iwaizumi would help you organize a cart of books before you had to shelve it, or put the "no longer property" of stamp on books that were falling apart. But today you had a big cardbox you were shuffling through.

"This stuff is gold come look"

It was old yearbooks.

"The school doesn't really have any good place to store these. The really old ones are up in that display case at the front of the school. But these ones aren't old enough to be artifacts yet."

Iwaizumi sat on one of the chairs, while you sat on the table. You took your time looking through each yearbook. Showing each other bad yearbook quotes, photos people should have re-taken. You handed Iwaizumi another four books from the box. The top two were duplicates so he put one of them into that pile and handed the other one back to you.

The next one he started to flip through. It was the 2000 year book. The cover had reflective silver lettering and the whole thing was celebrating the new decade. Lots of computer space alien gags and hair gel. Iwaizumi was about to show you a photo of the dance club and the tacky outfits they had on. But his thumb slipped and the next page flipped itself over.

You were busy laughing at something you were looking at. Iwaizumi tried to hone in on that sound. Maybe it would help push back the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was you. A two page spread after the club pages.

In big blue letters at the top of the page were the words ``IN MEMORIAM OF" and there were scanned photos of notes from you friends, teachers and classmates. Photos from a memorial the students had held. And your locker, open and stuffed with flowers and photos, candles spilled from the metal tomb out onto the hallways floor. There was your school photo from that year. So indistinguishable from the other dozens of school photos he had just looked at, but unmistakably you.

Slowly Iwaizumi closed the book. Zipped open his bag, and tucked it inside.

"You know I think if you went back in time a couple years you totally could have rocked the frosted tips, would you ever dye your hair red or something?"

Iwaizumi looked up to you, the teasing smile you were showing to him was so familiar now.

"Did you just say I would look good with frosted tips?"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: bruuuhhhhh IM SUPPOSED TO BE ALSEEP RN

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6EUE9rA86EXf8sPFGJ47yL?si=-hD2r_SATTGn5u1nTjIwhA