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redhead-batgal · 3 years

Text

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

Part Two: Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

Twirling and slamming straight into Dick.

Fucking shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sorry long day, could you repeat that?

What was the question again?

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

"Sorrylongquestionrepeatthatday?"

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

Unfortunately you were wrong.

"Sorrypleaserepeatthaquestlong."

"What?"

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

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

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

FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK

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

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

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

"Last time you recommended this book."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Happy to help."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well someone's touchy today."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take a guess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You let out a scoff and shook your head.

“He’s just so....”

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

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

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

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

All The Man That I Need

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

“Well, what about the other guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if he’d ever be jealous over you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course it would."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without hesitation you deadpanned, “No,”

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

“Thou art more hot and more smelly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That doesn’t make sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I at least say the best lines?”

“You’ve thought that far ahead?”

“Yes,”

Giggling slightly you sighed then nodded, “Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Simultaneously both you and Jason say, “Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop calling me names Todd."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or else what?” He asked his eyes narrowed

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

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

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

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

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

"Have any recommendations for me?" He asked

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

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

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

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

"watdidyaeveemown?"

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

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

“Uh yeah.”

“SHIT.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” He asked

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything alright Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

As if they would

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck

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

“Sup, Jason, Jason Todd.”

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking shit

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

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

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

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

Ninja, fly ninja, you are the fly ninja.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just to let you know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don't drink coffee?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Red Robin is not my underling.”

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

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

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

“no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well I like you."

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh I know.” He laughed.

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

“How was your day?”

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

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

“But I thought they were gouda.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh ma gosh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was your day actually though?”

“Eh.”

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

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

“Eh? Why eh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh wait, you have a brother?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The coolest.” He replied smiling at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking shit

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

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

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

“How was your day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay then,” He replied laughing slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, if your willing.”

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

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

“So about the other night-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did, “Fuck off as well.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Awesome.”

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

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

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

Breathe

Trust

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

“Icabevrecbak-” You began before you heard yourself.

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

You can do this, you just had to breathe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You get off at four right?”

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

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

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

“Okay.” You breathed out blinking again.

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

“I’ll see you then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck

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

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

For now.

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sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

my turn

atsumu x reader

desc: you get a back massage from a gremlin your fiancé

a/n: @gahdam-beb hollz, thank you bunches for this cuteness! he absolutely would give good back massages. may or may not have gotten super carried away here – i meant for this to be like,, 200 words. not proofread & it’s all lowercase :,)

warnings: language, mentions marriage, mentions stabbing (i promise this entire fic is pure fluff though)

wc: 1.3k

—

so maybe the couch isn’t the best place to sprawl out on.

but you could hardly make it through the apartment door, much less all the way to your bedroom.

a leg dangles limply off the side of the worn-down sofa while the rest of your body merges with the cushion. the smell of pizza from last night’s takeout lingers on the soft material. an air conditioner unit whirs on and a chill streams across your skin, making your hairs stand on end.

unfortunately, all the throw blankets are either in the dryer or on your bed. and your fiancé? well, Atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

you sigh into a pillow.

it’s not every day you feel deprived of his presence. the blond is a lot to handle and he has a habit of bringing chaos with him wherever he goes, whether it’s a quick jaunt to the kitchen or across the country at a volleyball game.

but you can’t help but miss Atsumu, his chaos included. you’re quite endeared to him, actually.

i mean, there’s certainly a reason you’re wearing that silver engagement ring.

but right now it’s not just him that you’re missing. it’s those warm hands of his.

they tickle and prod and they’re not the softest things in the world... but they sure make for a back’s best friend. if you could wish for anything right now, it would be a back massage — for someone to rub and smooth away the tension of another long day.

but he’s not supposed to be back for another hour.

you shut your eyes, choosing to nap until he eventually walks through the door... but a tapping outside keeps your ears perked at attention.

the steps grow heavier in the corridor and, alongside that noise, your heart starts to thrumb louder too. you got off work early and your neighbors don’t typically come home til late... so you’re definitely not expecting anyone.

soon you realize the footsteps are just outside your door.

your heart jumps as the door clicks open and, from it, a rather refreshed-looking Atsumu emerges.

you thank the couch gods that it’s just him.

you would’ve rather been stabbed than defend yourself — you’re too tired to deal with that bullshit. but you’re glad that the universe hadn’t sealed your fate just yet.

“i’m home,” he calls, drawling out the words, “did ya miss me?”

you acknowledge him with a pitiful groan into the couch. it was an attempt at saying “yes” but even you aren’t sure of the unholy sound you just made.

“i don’t speak gremlin,” he chuckles.

you lift your head, shooting him a look.

“that’s unfortunate since you pretty much are one,” you say, dryly.

his jaw drops.

“i’m gonna tell ‘Samu you said that. we have the same face, y’know.”

okay, maybe you should be a little nicer if you want him to put his hands all over you... in a nonsexual way... at least for right now.

you don’t respond to him.

but that doesn’t stop him from talking.

“did somebody have a bad day?” his voice is high and he juts a lip out, taunting you.

you frown violently (if that’s at all possible). yes, he’s joking, but his face looks a fraction more slappable now.

“not particularly,” is your somewhat honest answer.

he shrugs off his jacket, the fabric tussling as he tosses it onto a wooden coat rack. there’s a clink of keys and the plop of a wallet on the countertop.

soon, those heavy steps you heard from outside are treading in your direction until he reaches the corner of the couch – right where your face is. without any hesitation, he sinks into a squat until you’re at eye-level with the giant.

you don’t move an inch, but even though you’re irritated, you kind of wanna kiss him.

“you’re home early,” you mumble, instead of grabbing his face and crashing your lips into his.

Atsumu tilts his head, “i wanted to surprise ya ‘cus i knew you’d be off early.”

he looks annoyingly attractive under the dingy living-room light. where are his dark circles? why are there no wrinkles on his forehead?

you, on the otherhand, probably look like a sloth on its last leg... arm? sloth appendages are confusing and you’d rather not think about that right now.

“is there anything i can do for ya?” he asks, softening at your grumpy expression.

yes.

“no.”

why are you making this difficult for yourself? it’s obvious you’re not doing too hot... and you really want that back massage – your muscles are practically screaming at you for relief.

he leans in closer, brushing his knuckles across your exposed cheek. they’re gentle on your skin.

“are ya sure?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper.

okay, sometimes he’s sweet. but only sometimes.

“can... you give me a massage?” you mumble through pouting lips.

a gentle smile forms on his lips, “yeah.”

he stands, long legs replacing the space where his face once was. Atsumu then shuffles to your side, but it takes him a moment to get situated.

the couch dips as he places a knee on either side of you, straddling your hips. Atsumu makes ass-to-ass contact. the most romantic of positions.

you squeal as he crushes you beneath him.

“oh, c’mon i’m not that heavy,” Atsumu snorts.

“says the guy who’s not actively being squashed into a couch.”

although you’d rather this than the burning ache under your skin.

he grumbles under his breath, but you choose to ignore it. suddenly, fingers are pressing deeply into your upper back and grazing your shoulder blades.

a quick gasp escapes your lips and you instantly regret it.

his deep chuckle shakes his body and, in turn, yours too. thankfully, his lips stay sealed.

you wish you could see that little smirk of his, as much as it bugs you, while he works his magic on your tight shoulders. there’s something so charming about that lopsided grin – it’s part of why you love him so much.

he adjusts again, accidentally kneeing you in the side.

“shit! be careful,” you jolt, warning him.

he smooths a hand down your hip and mutters out a genuine “sorry,” atoning in both word and deed.

in doing so, a metallic coolness brushes against an exposed patch of skin, making you shiver. you peek over your shoulder to see what it is.

it’s the ring on his finger...

and suddenly you can’t fuss at him anymore.

instead, warmth travels steadily throughout your body and his palms burn against your skin.

how can you be marrying him and still flush over the silliest things? in your defense, the ring is a relatively new thing in your relationship. it throws you for a loop anytime you catch sight of it.

Atsumu kneads firmly into the tissues, loosing stubborn knots and waking up your tired skin. his hands are large and stable; like a potter to unshaped clay, the digits mould and shape and indent.

slowly, but surely, your body relaxes and your mood lifts. a soft, virtually undetectable smile is on your lips.

Atsumu could be hellish and rude and a brat about the oddest things. he’s pretty gross and always tries to hug you when he’s dripping sweat. you’re also certain, positive, without a shadow of a doubt sure that he’s the more disagreeable twin.

but you’re probably the only person who can put up with him.

and he, you.

it’s a good thing you found each other... and even better that you can both give great back massages. it’s likely that’s what’s preserving your relationship.

hopefully, that same tactic works in marriage too.

you hum to yourself and your eyes, already drooping, finally close. Atsumu softens his touch, tracing the curves and contours of your body, lulling you into a hazy state.

Atsumu, rough and tumble as he is, could be gentle when he wanted to be — a side of him that easily made you see stars and super novas where only golden eyes and blond strands exist.

at some point, you think you feel a ghost of a breath against your skin.

maybe even a pair of lips pressing to your neck? you’re a little too out of it to tell.

but as soon as you find yourself drifting off, his hands peel away from you. it’s like you just lost a piece of yourself because you’re desperately searching for that missing warmth.

you whine in protest, turning to face the cruel man. after such a long fucking week, he chose to stop. and you were almost asleep too.

but that bastard.

that disgustingly adorable bastard.

he’s smiling as wide and bright as the milky way. there’s not even a hint of guilt.

“my turn,” he directs through a waggish grin.

alright, he’s slappable again.

—

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu #ass-to-ass contact #amen am i right #i'm a genius #(this is sarcasm)#anyway sorry for what you just read #i typed this in an hour #let me know if u think i could make atsumu even /more/ annoying #because i think i can #the number of times i wrote ‘couch’#is too many

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swimmingleo · 3 years

Text

Harry Styles and Two Loves - A love that dare not speak its name.

‼️Disclaimer I am in no way an English literature expert or student for that matter and can barely organize my thoughts but I’ll try my best. If something doesn’t make sense or is regretful thinking please tell me‼️

Basically Harry is a fervent reader that does not limit himself to Buk*wski and Mur*kami though for some reason he loves to bring up those dudes. Queer literature seems to play a big role when it comes to his inspiration and I love that about his music. A good example is his Shakesqueer Sweet Creature madness. But another one that I hold close to my heart are the parallels he draws with Alfred Douglas’ poem, Two Loves.

Here is the full poem. Give it a read if you can because I won't break it down verse by verse for this post sorry :(

To make it short, the poem is about the narrator (let's say Douglas) wandering in a garden where he meets a young man that turns out to be his lover. For context, Alfred Douglas was very much queer and in a romantic relationship with Oscar Wilde. Both developed their own coded language to express their love and ''sexual tendencies'' through their art (been this way foreverrr will we ever leaarn). However they were not always so sneaky about it and Two Loves in particular was so in your face that it was used against Wilde to prove his homosexuality in trial. He did get away with it this time. Here is his defense. Blueprint of denials. No iPhones at the time.

In Two Loves, two different personifications of love introduce themselves to Douglas and his lover:

The first love is loud and cheerful and sings about pretty women and men that love the said pretty women.

The second love is discreet, almost erased by the other’s presence but is beautiful and draws the attention of the narrator.

Obviously the first love is Heterosexuality, the one that is openly praised by society and the second is Homosexuality who is bullied into silence by Heterosexuality if he tries to speak. The poem ends with Homosexuality saying "I am the love that dare not speak its name." Yeah. And isn’t that the story of H’s career.

HS1 opens with MMITH which ends on "We don’t talk about it, it’s something we don’t do". And from there follows SOTT, "We don’t speak enough". And right after we get the very loud, very explicit and very well documented Carolina. So far the album narration goes "There is something painful going on but we can’t talk about it, I say ‘we’ because there is a you and I and yeeEEAAH THIS GIRL I MET ONCE GETS A WHOLE SONG THE WORLD DESERVES TO KNOW HOW GOOD SHE FEELS FOR A LADDY LAD LIKE ME ALSO HER NAME IS TOWNES YOU CAN CHECK FOR YOURSELF SEE IF SHES REAL I LOVE REAL WOMEN AS IN WOMEN THAT EXIST". Heterosexuality is loud and sings about pretty women right.

But then, THEN we get Two Ghosts. Which is the center piece of this whole post. I mean, the title... Two Ghosts//Two Loves Two hearts in one home ? Sick.

The parallel that hits the most is the physical description that is made of Douglas’ lover and of Homosexuality (which are technically two different characters in the poem).

Douglas’ lover / Homosexuality

Same lips red / Same eyes blue / Same white shirt

Red were his lips / His lips were red / His eyes were clear as crystal / His large eyes were strange with wondrous brightness / White as the snow / His cheeks were wan and white

In Douglas’ poem, it is meant to be understood that the young boy he meets first, his lover, is related to Homosexuality through their physical appearance. Douglas’ love is therefore inherently queer. With Two Ghosts, I’ve always wondered why Harry chose specifically to point out a white shirt as it comes across a bit generic and not really personal yk? But if you compare it to Two Loves, it checks out the recurrent descriptive color scheme: red, blue and white. In both works, red are the lips, blue are the eyes, and white is the ~envelopp. RIGHT. I suppose Harry didn’t feel like describing his lover with pale white skin since it’s brown with lemon over ice when under summer skies so he went with a plain white shirt instead.

I’m not going through a whole analysis of Two Ghosts yet I can safely say that it deals with unspoken words. Not saying things is a recurrent theme in H’s songwriting but within the album, Two Ghosts is the first song that deals with it through the undeniable prism of romantic love. Right before with Carolina, H had no issue being straightforward and wanted to "scream and shout it out", but with Two Ghosts he’s tongue tied and doesn’t say what he really means. Communication issues go on with the following track Sweet Creature, btw may I just:

But oh, Sweet Creature (!), Sweet Creature

Would he […] cry "O sweet creature!", Othello

I cried "Sweet youth…, Two Loves

Queer Literaturry is going wild(e).

Expanding this post with Sweet Creature allows me to speak about the garden metaphor. In lyric poetry, the expression of emotions is often done through nature. It is a process that Harry seems pretty fond of when singing about love (ie Olivia, Adore You, WS, Canyon Moon and Sunflower are good examples) but it’s way more subtle with TG and SC. In Two Ghosts, nature is the moon, and in Sweet Creature it’s the garden.

Would you look at that, Two Loves happens to combine both:

Moon dances over your good side and this was all we used to need, Two Ghosts

Running through the garden oh where nothing bothered us, Sweet Creature

Flowers that were stained with moonlight / Alone in this fair garden, till he came unasked by night, Two Loves

For Harry, the night is where the moon enhances his lover’s beauty, when it’s just the two of them and they need nothing more than each other. The garden is where they run (free?away?), once again alone, unbothered. For Douglas, Homosexuality took form and began to occupy the garden at night, while Heterosexuality who thrives in the golden light (um I- nvm) wasn’t paying attention.

It is also interesting to note that Homosexuality is associated with the night but also with death. And he’s super pale. So like… A ghost ? ANYWAY.

The garden in Two Loves is where love happens, it is a piece of heaven. It’s elevated on a hill and untamed with flowers of various colors growing everywhere. There is sunshine and moonlight, there are "pools that dreamed" and by pools I assume the author means vernal pools which are habitats where flowers grow and oh look over there:

Nice ruffles on that white shirt by the way. Very Victorian.

Two Ghosts, 2017 Mularry so true

So yeah. I don’t want to go into full analysis mode but I find it all interesting. Once again, Two Loves holds a great significance regarding the Oscar Wilde’s lore, and Harry is probably very familiar with anything Wilde related (don’t even start) and by that I think about the Carnation business.

I’ll just conclude with that quote from Maurice by E.M Forster whom I love very much:

"I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort."

#song analysis #idk if it has been widely discussed already #ive done a bit of research and i haven't found anything but if you've seen similar posts dont hesitate to pass me the links #anyway first try at this kind of rambling i hope it's ok eek #but really I love this parallel or at least the idea i make of it lol #harry styles #two ghosts #queer inspo #my analysis

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

Text

Critical Role: The Opposite of Cuddling

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: And maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, but - “That’s not gonna work,” he says, feeling a little bad as her face falls. “I’m way too ticklish for that.”

Jester’s expression rebounds at lightning speed. “Caduceus! You’re ticklish?”

“Oh. Yeah,” he grins.

Dome cuddles don't quite work out, but the Mighty Nein make do.

Wordcount: 1.8k (it would be short if it wasn’t supposed to be a snippet fic aaa)

A/N: maybe i am just in the mood for cuddly gang tickles. maybe so.

---

“So,” Jester is proselytizing, brandishing a diagram from her sketchbook into dubious faces, “if we cuddle up around Caduceus just like this it’s going to be super soft and comfy and warm until we get out of this stupid weather! Any questions?”

Caduceus puts his teacup aside and leans down to peer at the sketch. It’s really good, especially the faces. She must have drawn it while watching them sleep last night.

And maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, but - “That’s not gonna work,” he says, feeling a little bad as her face falls. “I’m way too ticklish for that.”

Jester’s expression rebounds at lightning speed. “Caduceus! You’re ticklish?”

“Oh. Yeah,” he grins. It feels good to see her happy, tail flicking as she clutches her sketchbook in clear delight - after two days of nonstop freezing rain, even her forceful cheer has been wavering. “It’s nice, sometimes, but not when we’re, you know. Sleeping.”

“So I could tickle you right now and you wouldn’t be, like, really mad at me?” Jester presses. She’s scooting towards him as she asks, practically trembling with excitement. It’s awfully cute.

Well, it’s been a while, but he can’t say he’s not a little eager for the contact. He ignores the looks from the rest of their group and flops back onto his bedroll, wriggling a little to get comfortable. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

“Um,” Beau says from somewhere behind him, a little strangled. Oh, right.

“We’re not keeping people awake, are we?” he asks, craning his neck to the various edges of the dome people have settled in. “Anyone set on sleeping right now?”

Beau makes a face. "That's not the weird part, Duceus."

“They can help!” Jester chirps, and then she’s cuddled into his side and wiggling tiny tiefling claws above his belly. “Oh, Ca-du-ceus!”

She’s pitching her voice as deep and scary as it can go. It’s not very far. “Yeah?”

“Where’s your very worst tickle spot?”

He laughs. “Telling you that feels like a bad idea.”

“Then I’ll just have to fi-ind it!” She tugs his shirt up with one quick move, and he barely has time to feel the cold before she’s latching onto his sides and burying her entire face into the downy fur on his belly. “Ooh, you’re so soft and warm! I want to cuddle you forever, Caduceus.”

It tickles, but just a little - honestly, he’s more amused by her. “Can’t say I’ve heard that before,” he chuckles, reaching out to poke gently at her side. “You’re not bad yourself.”

She squeaks, pulling her head up just enough to gasp at him. “Oh my gosh, Caduceus, did you just tickle me back? Guys, you have to come help me!”

“Nah, I’m good,” Beau snorts.

Jester lets out a massive sigh and flops back down onto him, and for a pleasant minute or two it’s just her nuzzling into him as he watches raindrops pelt off the amber dome overhead.

Then there’s a rustle, and some clinking, and before he can do anything more than lazily twitch one of his ears in the direction of the sound Yasha’s upside-down face pushes into his field of view.

“Do you mind if I join?” she asks in her quiet way. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Jester springs upright, grabbing happily for her hands. “Yes! Join us!”

Caduceus echoes her, snorting out a quiet laugh as Jester regains some of her energy and starts to scribble her way up his sides. He doesn't have any quiet siblings - Yasha reminds him a little more of the mourners, so it’s always nice to see her reach out. He's good at appreciating that sort of thing.

Yasha smiles shyly down at the both of them as she pulls his head into her lap and starts to play with his ears. “These are so soft,” she marvels. “Are you ticklish here?”

His ears have always been one of his siblings’ favorite spots to tease him with, and apparently they haven’t gotten any less sensitive in the last ten years. “Yeah,” he gasps. “Heh - just - hehe - a little bit.”

There's a frustrated groan off to his right. “Okay, I’ll bite.” Footsteps track around to his side, fleet and quiet, and he waits patiently for a flash of blue cloth to cross his gaze. “But only ‘cause ears are a fucking weird spot and I want to see if this works on you.”

Beau crouches by his side and curls her fingers loosely. “I’m gonna punch you,” she warns. “Probably not that hard, but don’t tense up.”

He nods as best as he can while tilting his head to better let Yasha worry her fingernails at the backs of his ears - he’s not sure if he could feel more boneless if he tried, right now.

The heel of her fist strikes him right in the middle of his chest, fingers clutching around something intangible - that something scurries its way down every nerve he has, and he coughs out a startled laugh before he can help himself. “What was that?”

“Payback for growing lichen on me back at your house,” she quips, but her eyes are narrowed in clear concentration. “Okay, ears, ears… wrists? And knees? And - fuck, man, your entire back? Really? Jes, let’s flip him over, this is going to be good.”

Well, that’s unexpected.

“Wait - ha!” Caduceus yelps, squirming as fingers start to pry their way underneath him. “Hold on now-”

He’s bigger than both of them by far, but they’re strong and not above tickling the backs of his ribs until he starts to squeal. "You're so thin, Caduceus!" Jester exclaims, hooking a finger into the tender gap between two bones and wriggling it mercilessly - his back arches entirely without his permission, letting Beau pry him another inch off the ground, and he whines defensively. "We have to feed you more!"

They get as far as rolling him onto his side before Beau loses patience and starts prodding smugly at his spine. “Your ki is pretty shivery around here, Duceus,” she teases. “Trying to hide your worst spots, huh? Bet you thought we weren’t gonna take this seriously.”

Caduceus is too busy laughing to deal with - any of that, really, especially when Jester slings herself over him so she can reach his back too. “I’m - ahaha! aaa! - oh, that tickles!”

As if in direct response to his babbling, a small weight bundles into the back of his knees. He curls up reflexively with a strangled shout - it’s Nott, cuddling up to him with a shivery sigh as an invisible hand starts to pinch at his kneecaps. “You’re right,” she crows to Jester. “He is soft.”

It does feel nice, being buried under this many people and tickled till the marrow of every bone in his body shivers, happy and helpless, and when Fjord finally sits in front of him and presses a questioning hand to his shoulder Caduceus doesn’t resist the impulse to clutch his hands and pull him in closer.

Fjord comes easily, huffing in quiet amusement as Caduceus buries his face in him and Yasha and wriggles like a freshly surfaced earthworm. “You alright there?” he drawls. “You sound like they’re trying to kill you.”

Nott snorts from somewhere near his belly. “We should stop, then, we’ve only got the one cleric.”

“Hey!”

Everything abruptly derails as Jester launches herself towards Nott and, from the sound of it, kicks Beau right in the face - there’s wheezing, and then shouting, and then the telltale sugar-sweet scent of Jester’s healing magic.

Caduceus holds very still. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah," Beau confirms, mangled. He can practically picture Jester frantically squishing her cheeks around as she checks for damage.

A typical tickle fight, as far as the Clays are concerned, just with a different smell - the Wildmother's healing tends more earthy. Even though they’ve stopped tickling, Caduceus can’t help but laugh.

He’s not sure if he imagines Fjord fluttering light fingers along the insides of his wrists as he catches his breath, but by the time he wheezes out one last fit of giggles and rolls himself back over everyone seems to be keeping a respectful distance, if a good deal closer together than they were at the beginning of the evening. “I think that went pretty well,” he says, pleased.

“...so you’re stupid ticklish,” Beau says dryly, scrubbing a bit of dried blood from her lip. “No cuddling Duceus while he’s trying to be unconscious, message received.”

There’s a chorus of agreement from all but one - Caduceus looks around and spots their final member for the first time since they sat down for dinner, nose buried in a book and ears suspiciously red.

He hasn’t moved an inch all night, even to escape the noise, which leaves him only a few feet away from the rest of them. Caduceus gets the feeling he’s about to regret that. “Oh, I’m sure there are those that have it worse,” he grins. “Right, Mr. Caleb?”

Caleb’s gaze snaps up over the edge of his book. “Ja,” he rushes out, strangled. “I mean - nein - of course I am not - I am just trying to read here-”

Jester doesn’t wait for him to dig his grave any deeper. “Oh my gosh, Cay-leb, are you super ticklish too?”

Caleb stuffs his book back into its holster and holds a hand out preventatively, reaching with panicked precision for a strip of leather tied just above his knee with the other. “No, I am not-”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Fjord rocks backward and reaches out with one broad hand, latching onto Caleb's wrist, and Caleb promptly abandons all spellcasting to kick at him like a startled rabbit.

Despite that, he reels Caleb in gently, scooping him into a neat little ball before he heaves him into the middle of their little circle and squarely on top of Caduceus. “I think we owe you a nice, long thank you for this lovely dome, don’t we?”

There’s a moment of silence as Caleb presumably thinks about how easy it would be to kill them all in this enclosed space. “This,” he says, as severely as he can with his feet in the air and hair in his eyes, “is the opposite of cuddling, and if you do not leave me alone then tomorrow night I am going to make all of you sleep in the rain.”

Even the seasoned homebody in Caduceus knows that’s the exact wrong thing to say to a group of damp and grumpy adventurers - if the mood in the dome was mischievous before, it takes a steep dive into outright evil.

Beau cracks her knuckles. “Yeah? Let’s see what you have to say when we tickle you again tomorrow.”

And if Caduceus laughs as Caleb gives one startled owlish blink and then scrambles to hide as much of himself behind Caduceus as possible - well, that’s not from the tickling at all.

#Tickling #critical role #caduceus clay #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #bc i cannot tag all seven of them that feels illegal #chocfic

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beauregardlionett · 3 years

Text

i think i might understand the concept of home

AO3 Link

Yasha’s car had broken down on the side of the road in some tiny town she only meant to pass through. She hadn’t even read the welcome sign half-a-mile back, so gods knew where she was. Thankfully, there was a shoulder and a sidewalk, so she wasn’t stuck in the middle of traffic. She had the hood popped and stared helplessly down at the tangle of mechanics she did not understand.

Nothing was smoking, so she figured that must be a good thing.

“Need a hand?”

Yasha glanced up, catching sight of a woman standing just outside the coffee shop Yasha broke down in front of. She stood defined in the sunlight, composed of sharp lines and lean muscle, contained by planes of smooth, coffee-colored skin. She had on a simple grey sports bra under denim overalls littered with stains and distressed patches torn in random places on the legs. Her hair was in a low bun sat over what looked like an undercut all tucked messily beneath a backward cap.

Damn...she was hot.

The woman cocked an expectant eyebrow, reminding Yasha she had yet to answer.

“Oh, um...yes?”

Hot Lady smirked and stepped off the curb to stand at Yasha’s shoulder, leaning over the open hood and inspecting the mess. Yasha was busy inspecting the tanned slope of neck to bare shoulder, all of her quite a sight in the midday sunlight.

Gods, was that a tattoo on her back?

With abrupt yet easy precision, Hot Lady hauled herself up onto the lip of Yasha’s truck and shoved her hand between various pieces of metal. Startled, Yasha looked down at the engine, hoping she wouldn’t have to call emergency services for a hand lost in her car engine.

“The alternator might be shot,” Hot Lady said, squinting as she moved her hand around a little.

“What does that mean?” Yasha managed, only a little strangled.

“Means you need to get your car into a shop because you aren’t going to have much luck getting far without it.” Hot Lady removed her hand and gave a little hop back down to the pavement. She wiped her hand carelessly on her overalls and shrugged a little.

“It’s not a super challenging thing to fix, but it will take a minute. I can point you to a good garage if you need.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you...um...”

“Beauregard,” the woman said, sticking out her hand with a grin. “Call me Beau.”

After hesitating a moment, Yasha grasped Beau’s hand and gave it a tentative shake, cheeks warm. Her face flushed even warmer when Beau raised her eyebrow again, clearly waiting for Yasha’s name.

“Yasha,” she blurted, horrid awkwardness muddying her chest. “I’m Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said as she slowly took her hand back. Yasha already like the way her name sounded rolling off of Beau’s tongue - perhaps far too much for someone she just met.

“You might need to shack up somewhere for the night,” Beau said, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting someone. “Depending on how long the garage takes with your car. I haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You got a place to stay?”

“Oh...no,” Yasha managed. “I’m just passing through.”

“Well, I texted my buddy over at the garage to come get your car. He’ll be here soon. There’s only one hotel in this town, and to be honest, it sucks. My buddy Caleb moved most of his stuff out of his apartment, but he hasn’t turned the lease over yet. He got a big wig job two hours from here and they had him start early, despite the fact he still had a month on the lease. You can crash there if you want. I’m pretty sure he left his mattress.”

Yasha blinked, dazed and flabbergasted at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I...what?”

Beau looked up from her phone, fingers pausing in their rapid texting. She seemed to take in Yasha’s stunned expression and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry, that was a lot all at once.” Beau tucked her phone away and crossed her arms over her chest. Yasha recognized the defensive tactic attempting to look casual with ease. She performed that move often enough herself.

“This ‘helping’ thing isn’t my forte - more Jess’ thing. But uh...yeah. If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. Promise there're no strings attached or anything like that.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“True,” Beau shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything to steal from Caleb’s place. It’s basically an empty apartment he’s not getting anything out of. Might as well put the place to good use.”

“Okay,” Yasha said after a moment of strange quiet. What else was she supposed to say?

Beau blinked up at Yasha, then grinned, wide and delighted. “Cool.”

A few minutes later, a tow truck pulled up. Beau greeted the driver enthusiastically as Yasha watched on, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

“This is it,” Beau said, shoving open the door with her hip as she wrestled the key out of the lock.

Yasha followed Beau in, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her meager duffle bag. The apartment was near barren, as Beau had said. It had a small living area that faded seamlessly into a kitchenette. Down a short hallway appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom, both doors open. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The only sign someone had recently been occupying the space was the old mattress just visible through the bedroom door and the sagging sofa in the living room.

“Sorry there’s no food in the kitchen, but there’s a store about a block from here if you’re up for a walk. I’d hang around but I have to get to a class.”

Yasha twisted to look at Beau, something bubbling up in her chest that felt a lot like gratitude and a little like something indescribable. She watched as Beau fiddled with her key ring, only realizing what was happening when Beau pulled a key off and tossed it to Yasha. She just barely managed to catch it and not make a fool of herself.

“That’s the key to the door for ya. And,” Beau pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from her pocket, holding it out to Yasha. “My number, in case you have questions or you need anything. I’m a night owl and an early riser, so chances are I’ll answer whenever.”

“Thank you,” Yasha warbled after a long moment, clutching the key so hard the grooves of its identity imprinted into her palm. The notches stung like she would never forget their shape. “I mean it. This is...a lot.”

Beau rubbed the back of her neck, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the worn floorboards. “It’s nothin’ really...”

“No,” Yasha insisted. “It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Beau’s gaze met Yasha’s intense stare, her bright blue eyes wide as they took in Yasha’s sincerity. A handful of seconds stretched into eternity before Beau ducked her head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah...sure.”

Yasha was getting the impression she wasn’t the only one completely out of her depth in this situation.

“I’ll come around tomorrow with updates...bye.”

Yasha watched her duck out the door, disappearing down the hallway before she shut the door behind Beau and clicked the lock.

The garage had Yasha’s car fixed and ready to go after two days. Yasha was still in town three months later.

In all honesty, she’s not sure how it happened.

The night she planned to leave, Beau had swung by and insisted on seeing her off. They ended up at a diner, tucked into a booth, talking like they actually knew each other. Next thing Yasha realized, it was nearing midnight, and they were being asked to wrap up so the diner could close. The chef had called to them from the window, an older looking man with bright pink hair who gave Beau a knowing look and a wink.

Somehow, that unplanned extra night turned into months. Yasha had taken on the lease from the absent Caleb for his apartment. She found a job at the local florist, a job she quietly enjoyed. The gravity of her situation only set in after she bought sheets for the mattress.

She met Jess - real name Jester, or Genevieve, but Yasha couldn’t sure - a bubbly girl with deep blue hair and the sweetest attitude ever. Her fingertips were permanently paint stained, and she left hastily sketched dicks everywhere she went. Yasha also met the tow truck driver from the first day, a guy named Fjord. They were a weird mix of individuals, but somehow they got on just fine. They ate dinner together every Thursday night at the same bar owned by the guy who tended the bar - one of those small town things. His name was Mollymauk - Molly for short and sometimes they instead of he - with inordinately purple hair and makeup to match.

Yasha never really spent a lot of time in her apartment. She didn’t see the point, not when she had access to the florist shop, or the diner, or anywhere else with Jess, Fjord, Molly, or Beau. Especially not when Jess’ apartment she shared with Fjord was so much warmer, much more like a home.

It took three months before Beau stopped mid-sentence of a story and blinked at Yasha over their pancakes in the diner.

“This is probably a stupid question, but did you have somewhere to be?”

Yasha looked up, confused. “Right now? Uh...no? My shift at the shop doesn’t start for another three hours.”

“No, no, I meant like outside this town. You told me you were passing through, before.”

“Oh,” Yasha set down her fork and looked out the window. Her chest felt tight. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago - a whole other person ago. “Not really.”

“Do...uhm,” Yasha looked over at Beau to find her pushing her food around her plate awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This was difficult for both of them. If Yasha had learned anything in her time here, it was that they both struggled to convey their emotions eloquently. But that Beau tried meant everything to Yasha. The least she could do was meet her halfway.

“I was running, and I didn’t know where or when I would stop. But I guess this place is where I’m meant to be.”

“Why were you running?” Beau stared at her, gaze intense in a way Yasha found endearing. She watched like nothing else in the world could distract her.

“I...I had a wife. And I lost her rather abruptly almost six months ago. I tried to stay for a while, to keep what we had built together, but I wasn’t strong enough. So I ran and hoped that I would find something worth staying for again before I fell off the world.”

Beau stared at Yasha openly over their half-eaten breakfast, eyes wide.

“You stayed here. Does that mean you found something here?”

Yasha looked at Beau, at her messy bun and her undercut that needed a fresh shave. She took in the puddle of syrup, slowly saturating Beau’s pancakes and the half gone pile of bacon. Beau’s cellphone sat face down on the table so her attention stayed on Yasha. She realized the baggy sweater Beau had on was one Yasha had misplaced almost a month ago. Yasha lost her breath at the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach.

“I think so,” Yasha breathed, tethered and unhinged all at once.

They didn’t talk about it, because of course they didn’t.

But two weeks after their pancake conversation, Beau invited Yasha out for a night on the town. There were only two bars with decent night life here, and Yasha had been to both of them exactly once during her time here. (The daytime trips to Molly’s bar didn’t count, of course. She had only been to their bar for the night life once.)

She met Beau in the middle, and they walked together the rest of the way.

Beau had gotten her undercut shaved tight again, but it was hidden with the way her hair spilled loose and long down her back. She had a cobalt lace crop top on - the one with the built-in bra. The way it showed off the definition of her muscles was doing things to Yasha. The black cigarette pants didn’t help either.

A few drinks and way too many EDM songs later - or maybe only a few? Yasha couldn’t tell them apart - Yasha remained upright from adrenaline alone. Somewhere between the drinks and the beat of the music, Beau pressed up against Yasha, wiry arms winding around Yasha’s neck as they danced. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer in any regard, but she was just tipsy enough to not care.

Beau’s hips fit comfortably in the space between Yasha’s hands, and Yasha resolutely tried not to follow that train of thought. For no other reason than she didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and there was no way Beau felt the same.

Beau pushed onto her toes, shiny black boots creasing with the motion as her lace top rode up her enticing torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” Beau called over the heavy thrum of the base. Her voice nearly got lost in the din, but Yasha heard her. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. The weight of her heart dropping into her stomach hit too heavy and real to ignore.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss Beau, too.

Yasha’s t-shirt stuck to random parts of her torso with sweat, a detail she was now hyper-aware of with how little space existed between her and Beau. The press of bodies around them was abruptly unnerving. So much so, Yasha wound an arm around Beau’s shoulders and steered them both free, ducking into the hallway that lead to the bathrooms as Yasha gasped for air.

Beau leaned her back against the wall for support, peering at Yasha with far too much clarity for someone who could barely stand upright.

“Are you okay, Yash?” Her voice was quieter now that they had moved out of the main bar, but the base still pounded like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

With more confidence than Yasha would ever possess in her life, she caged Beau in, a hand on either side of her head against the wall. As Beau stared up at her with unabashed awe, Yasha’s face warmed with flushed embarrassment.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Then do it,” Beau said. It sounded like a dare, but she said it as if she were asking permission.

With a quick swoop into Beau’s space, Yasha pressed her lips to Beau’s with the barest amount of pressure. A feather-light, electric brush of a promise, a question, and an invitation. Yasha moved no closer.

Beau leaned in, and as far as kisses went, it was simple. Neither of them surged toward the other, or grappled for purchase to deepen the embrace. It was an easy press of lips, testing the waters despite the alluring tug of the tide.

Tipsy seconds later, Beau pulled back first with a soft gasp. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt like a cheesy teenager when she realized they had closed without her knowledge.

“Do you want to do this?” Beau asked, voice soft and a little wrecked despite the chaste kiss.

Yasha, never one for many words, gave a quick nod and ducked back in. It wasn’t confidence, more like the beginning of a realization.

Beau held onto her, this time hands back around Yasha’s neck and fingers tangled deep in Yasha’s wild hair. Yasha took one hand from the wall to cup the back of Beau’s head, fingers sliding easily over the short hairs of Beau’s undercut.

It wasn’t a fireball kiss, but it tasted like the whiskey shots they had done half an hour ago. Beau’s lips were soft and a stark contrast to the way she kissed Yasha. It wasn’t falling stars and fire lit in her chest, nor was it a cosmic shift of puzzle pieces snapping into place. As before, it was a realization, a revelation of something that might have been there for a while.

Beau kissed Yasha back, and she thought about pancakes at the diner and memorizing the way Beau’s eyes scrunched when she laughed. Yasha rubbed her thumb over Beau’s jawline and Beau’s sharp grin burst to life behind her eyelids. A tug to Yasha’s hair reminded her of Beau offering to braid Yasha’s messy locks every time they all slept at Jess’ place. Beau licked into Yasha’s mouth and all at once, Yasha pictured her apartment. She saw the walls she had kept carefully bare, the sheets she had bought, but no other furniture. The echoing emptiness of a place abandoned for a better chance, and inhabited by the echo of who Yasha used to be.

And what did people say about echoes being louder in empty rooms?

Beau kissed Yasha, and Yasha realized she didn’t want to be an echo anymore.

Beau made her feel solid in a way that was undemanding. She merely held out her hand and asked for the pieces of Yasha that were real, the parts she was willing to share. She helped Yasha make them into a complete picture.

Yasha kissed Beau back with all the gentle strength she could muster through the weight of her epiphany and the whiskey.

This time, Yasha knew she found something worth staying for.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing

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thepartyresponsible · 3 years

Text

this soundtrack fill is for kittenlzlz, who i cannot tag because it’s all sabotage all the time over here. also, i'm sorry, i didn’t realize you’d changed your prompt until after i wrote this one, so this is for the first thing you sent in.

anyway, here’s some dystopian sci-fi angst for sam and bucky with a hopeful ending. the song for this one is “achilles come down” by gang of youth.

—

When he was young, Sam spent thirty-seven weeks in New Mexico, learning how to keep people alive until evac. That others may live was a motto they preferred to operationalize rather than idealize, and, without the EMT training, pararescue tended to turn into high-risk body retrieval. So he spent the better part of a year learning how to keep a body breathing, and he learned, also, how to recognize when any effort was likely to be wasted.

Which is how he knows that what he’s looking at isn’t fully human. Because a human would already be dead.

It’s the blood that tells him, more than anything else. The Chitauri bleed a thick, dark blue substance that goes black if their cybernetics are leaking. And there’s plenty of blue and black puddled on the asphalt, but that red is a hemoglobin gift, and that means it’s all human.

“Shit, man,” Sam says, crouching next to the only human at this massacre. “You could keep a blood bank in business all by yourself.”

The man lifts his head and blinks at him, slow and a little dazed. Not dazed enough, though. He can almost focus on Sam’s face. “Not anymore,” he says, after a beat.

More blood bubbles up at the corners of his mouth. Sam can see it between his teeth.

“Yeah,” Sam says. And he laughs, because he might as well. Because he came out here with a team of ten to clean out the aliens, and it looks like one guy did their work for them. “Guess not.”

He’s a pathetic sight, really. Ragged body armor, hair clumped together, skin sticky with blood and ichor. He’s belly down on the cracked parking lot, and there’s a smear of blood behind him, showing exactly how far he’s managed to drag himself.

Sam’s not excited about what he’s going to see, when he rolls this guy over on his back.

“You gonna fight me if I help you?” he asks.

Most of them, these Enhanced, the surviving Super Soldiers, they can’t help it. Sam’s had to put a few down himself, although not for a while now. It’s been almost a year since he had to kill anything with a human face.

The man sighs. He rests his forehead against the asphalt, closes his eyes. His fingers flex and then go still. “I don’t know,” he says.

That others may live, Sam thinks. But the problem has always been that lives are balanced on both sides of the scales, and, sometimes, saving one means sacrificing another.

This man killed fifteen Chitauri, and he did it alone. There are kids back at the base. Vulnerable people.

The safest choice would be to leave him here. Let him save himself, if he can. But Sam’s never really been the safe choice type.

“Okay,” he says, hands curling around his shoulders, carefully rolling the man over on his back, “let’s see the damage.”

It’s enough to kill a human. But that’s not really what he’s dealing with.

—

The Super Soldiers were a desperation play. Sam was supposed to be one of them. The best of Earth’s fighters, dosed with serum, patched up with cybernetics based on Chitauri tech, sent out to face the enemies that had invaded the planet.

Sam’s still not sure exactly how it happened, what level of their defenses failed. He only knows failure by its consequences.

The neural implants were hacked. The soldiers turned against their people. Sam, who’d been four days out from his own procedure, was shifted to a team tasked with hunting them down and eliminating them.

These days, there aren’t many left. There’s not much of anyone left. The Chitauri fundamentally misunderstood their target. Sam could’ve warned them. The species of mutually assured destruction was never going to die quiet.

He thinks about that while the Soldier sleeps, chained to a bed in a locked basement in an abandoned building two miles from the base. Sam keeps watch. He has a radio in case anything goes wrong, but he doesn’t intend to use it for anything other than warning them what’s coming.

“I could’ve been you,” Sam tells him. And then, smiling at nothing, shaking his head, “Hell, you could’ve been me.”

He wonders where he’s from. He wonders what his name is.

He wonders, when he can’t help it, what he did. If he ever killed anyone Sam used to know.

—

The Soldier sleeps for forty hours and then sits straight up in bed, rips the chains off his wrists like they’re pipe cleaners, and then turns to face Sam. “What the hell,” he says.

“Oh, well,” Sam says, too startled to be afraid. “Didn’t want anyone stealing you.”

The Soldiers makes a face at him, an incredulous sneer that twists up his mouth and pulls his dark eyebrows together, and he looks so human, so perfectly skeptical, that Sam starts laughing.

“Well,” he says, with a shrug, “you killed fifteen aliens with a tire iron. You’re a treasure.”

“And I want it back.” he says, immediately. “Where’s my tire iron?”

“Confiscated,” Sam says.

He glares, and Sam‘s probably meant to be intimidated, but he knows – they both know – that, if this guy wanted to scare Sam, he could just start breaking bones. Or walls. “I want it back when I leave.”

“Leave,” Sam repeats. He kicks back in his chair, balances on the back legs as he swings his feet up onto the Soldier’s bed. “Why’re you leaving?”

The Soldier stares at Sam’s booted feet near his knees. “Usually it’s the fact that I’m a timebomb that chases me off,” he says, “but it looks like your manners are the real horrorshow around here.”

Sam grins at him. He’s merciless about it, uses the most charming smile in his arsenal. He expects the guy to soften a bit, but he’s not expecting the doubletake he gets, the there-and-away bounce of his stare, like Sam’s suddenly something he wants to look at but doesn’t want to get caught looking at.

Huh, he thinks.

“When’s the last time you hurt someone?” Sam asks.

The Soldier’s face crumples up and then flattens out. “What is this? Some kinda trial? An interrogation?”

“If this were an interrogation, I wouldn’t’ve given you the soft pillows,” Sam tells him.

The Soldier doesn’t look like he buys it. But, after a moment, he tips his head to the side. “Probably wouldn’t want to get blood on these white sheets,” he acknowledges.

“Christ,” Sam says, because that more or less seems to be the only thing he could possibly say to something like that.

The Soldier shrugs. He brushes his hair away from his face, blinks, and gives Sam a skeptical sideways stare. “Did you wash my hair?”

“With a firehose,” Sam confirms. “Damn near shaved the whole thing off. You were a mess, man.”

He shrugs. “It’s messy work.”

And, sure, it is. Sam knows. His base is the first resettlement outpost in this region. They’ve been clearing Chitauri out of the area for months.

But he still takes a damn shower whenever possible.

“Who were you?” Sam asks. “Before the program?”

The Soldier looks away. Looks at nothing. After a long pause, he recites, careful and rote, “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. 107th.”

“Okay,” Sam says. “James. When’s the last time you hurt a human being?”

He worries at his lower lip, teeth pressing into the skin. He’s quiet for a very long time. “Thirteen months, ten days,” he says, finally.

Sam considers the timeline. “You think it’s over?”

“I think the implant’s in my fucking brain,” he says. “It’ll be over at brain death.”

“It’s just a chip,” Sam says. “It’s not sentient. Someone’s gotta send the message, right?”

The Soldier’s jaw works. “Even if the aliens stay out, there’s gonna be plenty of people who want to use someone like me, as soon as they rebuild enough to manage.”

It’s a hell of thing, and it could’ve been Sam.

He nudges the Soldier’s knee with his boot, and the Soldier stares at the point of contact. He doesn’t look angry anymore. If Sam had to use a word to describe the expression on the Soldier’s face, he thinks he’d use something bittersweet and barbed, something like lonely or longing.

“Gonna be a long damn time before anyone’s rebuilt,” he says.

“Aliens could have reinforcements here at any time,” the Soldier says.

“Maybe,” Sam says, although he thinks they might’ve learned some kind of lesson. At the very least, they’ve probably learned that it’s just not worth the effort.

“Look,” Sam says. “I think you should come back to the base.”

“No,” he says. Immediate and definite, louder then he’s been so far.

Sam expected it. Maybe part of him hoped for it. “Okay,” he says. “Then we’ll stay here. And, when you’re better, I want you to take a radio. And I want you to check in with us. All right? Every day.”

The Soldier stares at him. “Why the hell would you want that?”

Sam smiles, studies the hollows of the Soldier’s face, the scars, the freckles he must’ve earned when he was young, used to play too long in the sun. He has, Sam thinks, beautiful eyes. “There’s not a lot of us left,” he says.

“‘Us,’” the Soldier repeats, scoffing audibly.

“Us,” Sam repeats. He nudges the Soldier’s knee again, and the Soldier cuts his eyes away, glares at the wall. But, a moment later, he shifts, leans his knee into Sam.

—

His name is Bucky Barnes. He’s fussy as hell, stubborn beyond belief, helpful every chance he can get, and fond of cats and songbirds. He doesn’t cheat at cards, and he doesn’t accuse Sam of it either, even when Sam beats him damn near every hand.

He’s a good man. Even now.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Sam says. Because it’s been two weeks, and Bucky’s decided he’s well enough to go.

Bucky ducks his head. “Shut up,” he says.

Sam wonders if he was always this head shy about affection.

“C’mere,” he says. “I’ll give you a goodbye kiss.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, practically scuttling away, head still ducked. When he raises it, he’s grinning one of his ghost grins, the ones that almost show who he used to be, like a faint echo of a louder, happier man.

“Okay,” Sam says. “But if I don’t get a goodbye kiss, I’m definitely not gonna talk dirty to you on that radio. You gotta put in the work, Bucky.”

“I hate you,” Bucky tells him, and his crush couldn’t be more obvious. Sam would be embarrassed for him, if he weren’t busy being charmed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says. “Check in every day, or I’m gonna track you down.”

“Hm,” Bucky says. He adjusts his pack on his shoulders. He’s got that tire iron, an alarming number of knives, and two guns. He’s setting off to kill more aliens. He’s going alone. “That supposed to be a threat?”

He was a Barnes in the Army and Sam was a Wilson in the Air Force, and so Bucky is a Super Soldier and Sam is not. It’s unpredictable, sometimes, the way mercy falls.

“Be careful out there,” Sam says, and he knocks his elbow against Bucky’s.

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He rolls his eyes and then catches Sam watching, and he blinks, falters. “Yeah,” he says, again. Softer, steadier. A promise, not a joke.

Sam considers him, lets the moment hang. Waits. Sometimes, all Bucky needs is the space and time to make up his own mind.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Bucky says.

“There it is,” Sam says, grinning, almost crowing in triumphant. “There--”

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes again, getting theatrical about it. “I already regret saying it.”

“Can’t take it back,” Sam taunts, grinning wide and smug.

“I’m going,” Bucky says, and he starts off, doesn’t look back.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam calls, when Bucky’s just about to break through the treeline, disappear into the woods. “I hate to see you go, but I love----”

“Fuck off, Sam!” Bucky says, but he’s laughing, and Sam can still hear it – surprised and happy, fully human – even after Bucky disappears.

#writing #soundtrack fills

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honeybunnybeez · 3 years

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Duuuude. Sfw alphabet for Eret or Bad??? Or even Fundy. All very underrated and I need see much content for them -⚰️

SFW alphabet:

C!BadBoyHalo:

♡Reader is Gender Neutral!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Bad is pretty affectionate when it comes to you, almost never leaving your side if he can.

He's very affectionate physically and verbally, clinging to you and giving you kisses while calling you sickly sweet pet names and praising you. Despite what he's supposed to be, he's incredibly adorable and hard to resist.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The friendship starts after you're introduced to him thanks to Skeppy, who you met first around the server and clicked well with. After getting to know you better and seeing you get along great with Skeppy, he easily accepts you as one of his close friends.

As a best friend he's kinda clingy, often wanting to see you and knowing what you're up to. He also likes to make sure you're okay and comes to visit you often, making sure no one messes with you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles are his jam and given the opportunity you two would probably never leave the bed for the whole day. He doesn't have a set cuddling style, though one thing stays the same and it's that he wraps his arms around you pretty tight.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does seem like the type to want to settle down. It sounds like a very nice thing to do once everything in the server calms down, well, if it ever does calm down.

Domestic life wise, he's pretty decent at it! His best chore is cooking, he makes a pretty good meal when he cooks.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Depending on the situation and what led up to it, I think it'd end on good terms but he would get very emotional while doing so. He would be crying while apologizing and explaining why he feels like a romantic relationship wouldn't work as to not hurt you too severely. He still wants you to be in his life as his best friend though so you two do keep in close contact if you're okay with that.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is rather loyal and commited to the ones he loves so I think he would get married. Maybe after being together for 6 months or a year would be when he pops the question.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is very physically and emotionally gentle with you, not wanting to hurt you in any way.

Sure he does tackle hug you in his human form but in his demon form with his tall height he makes sure to treat you like glass if he ever handles or holds you.

Emotionally he doesn't ever want to say mean things to you. He always apologizes profusely (almost crying himself) if you ever get truly upset with something he teased you about.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hugs, the moment he sees you he's running up to give you a big old hug. Hug him back, please. Please, (y/n). Hug him back, he wants you to.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He used to say it quite often back when you two were friends, so there's no exact way to tell when the I love you's started to be genuine.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Lord above, we've seen this man be jealous. He's super jealous when you start to spend more time with others. Can and will blow up your communicator asking you where you are and who you're with. Sometimes Skeppy joins in too half jokingly. If you're with Quackity you bet your ass you're getting dragged somewhere far away from the man.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Loves giving you surprise kisses and half expects you to return the gesture. ESKIMO KISSES! All the eskimo kisses, he loves them. He love giving and receiving eskimo kisses from you so much.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Oh he adores kids quite a bit. Innocent, active and still full of life, he thinks they're precious. Though he can't really handle the spoiled ones, the ones who scream and throw really bad tantrums when they don't get what they want in the supermarket.

I don't think he's capable of having his own kids with his partner (being a demon and all) but he'd like to adopt one or two if you're into that idea. He's had experience raising Sapnap (and he doesn't hate bad's guts as far as I remember) so he's sure he can handle it.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Before you wake up he likes to stare at your peaceful face while you rest. At first you did get a bit surprised when you wake up to see a pair of dimly glowing eyes staring back at you so closely. Now, you just instinctively reach out to give him morning kisses when you wake up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He holds you in his arms while you slowly drift off to sleep. Sometimes he hums a soft happy tune while playing with your hair as your eyes grow heavy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Skeppy totally tells you a few of Bad's secrets before you two started dating, only very minor ones though. Other than that, he's a pretty open book and if there was a secret he has he spills pretty easily when you say his name in a dissapointed tone.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Unless you insult him or swear like a sailor on purpose to annoy him, he has a good bit of patience with you and your shenanigans. If you're best friends with Skeppy then you're bound to get into a little bit of trouble.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers things about you quite well. Such as what you like to eat, what your favourite ore is, your schedule, etc.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He loves you and he loves his best friend Skeppy too. He enjoys every moment you guys are all together but his favourite moment was when you three all hung out with one another watching the sunset on the roof of your home. It was all so unsually calm during those few minutes. You 3 totally held hands, just saying.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He knows you can hold your own but even so he does get pretty defensive when others try to threaten you. Will stab a person for you if they really hurt you, no hesitation.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in a lot of effort to make you and everyone happy! It doesn't always feel like a chore when he's trying to find something you like or helping you around here and there. Anniversaries with him are simple but they're very sweet and memorable.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Oh boy, his clinginess and jealousy does tend to be a bit of a problem. You have to remind him that you need personal time too. He always pouts when you say that and often times you do give in because of it. Though, if you really do need to be somewhere without him, promise to spend your next free day with him and he'll happily agree.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not very concerned, he's aware that he looks a lot different than others but he doesn't think it matters when almost everyone in the server is a different kind of human or hybrid. Everyone's different and that's normal, he thinks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Sure we know that Skeppy is his whole heart both metaphorically and literally in a sense, but he would be devastated if anything were to happen to you. He would feel like a part of him is missing and it would frustrate and upset him to no end knowing that the missing piece could never be found again.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

In his 9'6 form he will carry you around in his arms like a doll just to tease you. He think you look adorable as you whine and tell him that you aren't a toy to haul around.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn't like someone who takes advantage of him or does things he doesn't like consistently on purpose. Like, teasing him is fine, he does that too, but don't do what he doesn't like on purpose everytime you see him. He just thinks that's disrespectful even if you were just teasing.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

When he sleep he's absolutely wrapped around you. Laying by your side, arms and legs wrapped around your torso and waist respectively. You are his pillow now and you're being held hostage until he's decided he's satisfied.

A/N: Hey ⚰! Thank you for the request! I have to admit it was a little hard not to make it reference poly!c!skephalo because of how often its referenced that Bad and Skeppy are close to one another. (Someone please give me an excuse to remake this with poly!c!skephalo-) Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading this!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp headcanon #badboyhalo x reader #⚰ anon

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mah-gah-lee · 3 years

Text

be stuck with you - owen patrick joyner x (reader)

Word Count: 2303

Request: YES, from that sweet @idontcare011, hope you’ll like it !

Summary: you were late and a random boy comes into the elevator at the last minute. By some incredible force of fate (or pretty crappy weather) you find yourself stuck with the young man in this narrow cabin.

Warnings: panic attack and i think it’s all

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her). All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove @lukeys-giggle

---

Thanks God, the quarantine was over and everyone could travel again. However, this stupid virus was not completely gone. Since the health crisis, you have adopted new habits, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator. But today, you were in a hurry, so you entered the cabin eagerly. The conference you were due to attend was starting in no less than twenty minutes, and your itinerary had said it would take you 15 to get to your planned location. But with the weather conditions creeping in out there, you were sure you would need a lot longer than advertised. The automatic door was closing when a hand stepped in the way. A young blond man appeared and slipped into the elevator. You grumbled at the action, making you fall a few more seconds behind.

"Sorry" the boy said through his mask.

But you didn't answer.

You had almost ten floors to go down together. You looked in your bag for a while to make sure you had your recorder when you felt an uncontrolled jerk. Your body no longer held you in balance but you caught yourself on a side of the elevator as the young man accompanying you tended to stabilize you. The lights flashed for a while and then went out. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded.

"oh no no no no no no no. Anything except that, please!" you said, frantically pressing a random button.

“I think we stuck…”

"Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" The fact that we weren't moving or that the lights went out? "

The boy threw up his hands in defense, eyes wide with so much animosity.

"Hey, I'm in the same situation. You don't have to be aggressive."

You groaned before leaning against one of the elevator walls, peering into the face of your elevator failure companion. He had blond hair; his tips reached the base of his neck. But his expressive blue eyes - seeming constantly anxious - reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who. You have pushed the alarm button to warn the staff that there was someone in the lift.

“Sorry, it’s seems to be a bad day. I’m late and now I’m stuck in an elevator with a perfect stranger”

“I’m Owen…Not a stranger anymore”

“I’m y/n, but yes, you still are”

Owen laughed at your outspokenness and you gave him a polite smile before you were silent for several minutes.

After what seemed like forever - when it was only ten minutes - you looked at your phone. No networks. For no obvious reason, when everything seemed to be going well, your heart started to beat faster. The thought of being stuck here forever crossed your mind and ached in your chest. The boy in front of you seemed so calm, which made you even more anxious.

"How the hell can you stay so calm"

"Oh ... I'm dying inside, just trying to play it cool"

You can help with giving him an amused smile, he had been so frank. But this little interaction did not bring you back down from your state. You were breathing harder and harder, your chest was heaving quickly, it was nearly out of control. Owen seemed to notice that and give you a concerned look.

"Panic attack?"

You nodded briskly and Owen approached you cautiously. You saw his hands move towards you and your gaze expressed fear but you were paralyzed to do anything.

"I'm going to take that damn mask off you already."

Gently, he grabbed the fabric mask and pulled a little on it to lower it, he reproduced the gesture with his own mask.

"Look at me, just me. There's nothing around us. Take a deep breath. I'll count to 3 and then you'll breathe out. Okay?"

you nodded and when he shook his to urge you to breathe you took a deep breath, like he told you to.

"1..2..3"

You sighed, keeping your gaze on him. You started once more and when the blonde asked you if it was better, you were shaking your head negatively.

"We're starting over but… take my hands and squeeze them as much as you need. Don't worry about grinding them."

You grabbed his hands and restarted each step over, crushing his hands. But the contact with matter, your breath and Owen's comforting eyes, help you gently. A soothing silence has settled between you. Owen had helped you through this panic attack when you didn't even know each other. But you could feel deep inside that this man was good. Things seemed to calm down for you and you thanked Owen with a genuine smile.

“You know how to deal with it ... Thanks for that.”

“I also suffer from anxiety and panic attack. But the elevator is big enough here that it doesn't cause me one. Although I am a little anxious ...”

“hey, breathe Owen.” You replied with a smirk

Owen laughed and shook his head as if to say "that's a good one!" You look at the young man again, staring at him intently. It was very rude but you couldn't put a name on his face anymore. You were sure you knew him. Was he a distant cousin? A neighbor? A guy you knew in high school? Or just a guy you saw in an ad? Maybe the ad for these new cereals!

“Excuse me but ... I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?”

“In an elevator, yeah!” he joked

You laughed he was funny

“No, I mean ... I feel like I've seen you before but I really can't remember where.”

he sighed, as if a little tired of the question. You were surprised at his reaction but Owen answers you anyway

“Yeah, I don't usually talk about that when I first meet a girl, especially when I'm stuck in an elevator with her but ... I'm an actor. I played some stuff on Nickelodeon and now I'm supposed to shoot season two of Julie and the phantoms, it's a Netflix series.”

You watched him chattering, you nodded then wide your eyes. This is where you saw it! You had been relentlessly browsing the Netflix catalog and seeing the trailer for the series he told you about, but you had avoided it, the show seemed too childish for you. You first reaction was to make fun of him

"Again, don't forget to breath Owen. But the way, I didn’t want to bother you with that question."

He laughed lightly then smiled politely at you. You didn't seem to be a hysteric or a weird person. He had a deep feeling that you were a good person, which is why Owen seemed to relax.

"It's just ... for a while, I thought you were a fan and I didn't want things to be weird all suddenly "

"Oh don't worry I haven't seen any of your shows.” you said nonchalantly

Owen burst into laughter. Once again, it was bafflingly sincere and he was really starting to enjoy being stuck in an elevator with you. You smiled, the energy in the cabin was positive that you almost forgot you were stuck with this young man for almost half an hour. You didn't know when you were going to be able to get out of here but you didn't really care anymore for the sole reason that you wanted to get to know this man. You tilted your head back, resting it against the elevator wall before sighing loudly. Seconds later, your gaze turned to Owen again.

“So tell me about this series that you’re filming. What is it about?”

"It's a pretty cool show actually. It's directed by Kenny Ortega, I don't know if you see who he is."

"Hell yeah ... he's the choreographer of Dirty Dancing"

"Himself ... So what about the storyboard ... It's about ..."

And then, you listened to him to tell you about the series. Something like a '90s band dying of food poisoning from a bad hotdog and returning twenty-five years later as ghosts to help a super talented young girl to make music after her mom passed away. It made you laugh; it was probably the dumbest death on TV after Marion Cotillard's in Batman. He couldn't even stop anymore so that he sometimes swapped over a few anecdotes from the set. You even got a little exclusive on season two before Owen stopped in the middle of a sentence.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away. But when you like your job, it's pretty easy to talk about it."

You smiled at him and Owen started asking you questions, about your work, your life, your passions and you were giving him back. The conversation was fluid, natural You learned that he was German, that his mother tongue was German until he was about four years old, that he had a sister and had lived with his parents until that year when he moved into his own apartment. Getting to know Owen was really nice and you could feel your stomach twist every time he smiled. He was a boy full of humor but also sarcasm.

You've been stuck with Owen for an hour and a half now. You ended up sitting on the floor of the elevator. Boredom was really starting to take hold of you. You rummaged through your bag for something, anything. An idea crossed your mind when you saw the small block of post-it notes.

"Owen"

"hmm?"

"How would you like to play a game?"

"What kind of game do you want to play here?"

"Who am I?"

"Obviously you are y/n" he tells you with a smirk.

You laughed before pulling out your notepad and a pencil to show it to the blonde. He claimed to have understood your intention, which made you smile even more. Of course, Owen knew the game you wanted to play. He nodded, and you'd write a celebrity's name on a sticky note before sticking it on your new friend's forehead. He did the same for you. Fortunately, your two post-its are well stuck. Owen spoke

"I start: am I a man?"

"Obviously" you say with a smirk, responding to the blonde's previous joke.

Owen laughed, catching the tone of your voice.

“But how funny she is! Is my character a man?” He continued.

You did several parts. You even teased him when he made you guess Julie and the phantoms, because the game didn't stop only with characters, celebrities but also series, movies, musicals. You were laughing when there was another shake, stronger than the first, the lights came back on and you couldn't help but be disappointed. You looked at Owen and he seemed to have the same gaze as yours. The doors barely opened and you found the hotel staff, patiently waiting to ask if you needed medical assistance, while also offering you a bottle of water. You left the elevator car, hurriedly stuffing the many post-its into your bag. You didn't really know how to act with the blond guy next to you. You had formed a little bubble in that enclosed space and now it seemed to have burst. For some strange reason, it made you sad. Now is the time to part ways with your new friend.

“well, good-goodbye, it was nice to meet you.”

you rushed into the hotel lobby a little more, but Owen seemed to catch up with you, his long legs only having to take a few strides.

"wait, y/n!"

You turned to him, you could see the embarrassment on his cheeks, asking with a frown what was the cause.

"I think you let that go"

"No, I don't"

You looked at the crumpled white paper. It even looked like a piece of chewing gum. And at first glance, Owen's perfectly white teeth were chewing one.

"I think you did."

He handed you the paper with a determination that convinces you. You bite your lip as you look at the series of numbers on the packaging: a phone number. His telephone number. Owen swallowed hard as he looked at you. His eyes never leaving your lips.

"It's pretty spontaneous of me but ... I won't start filming until next week. I hope you're still here the day after tomorrow ... because I would really like to ask you to come have a drink with me ... "

Your cheeks turned red, did he really just ask you for a date? You did not know what to answer. The urge to say yes was so present but you were afraid to rush. Perhaps humor was your only defense

"it depends"

"about what?"

"Does this appointment include a blocking session in an elevator? This is the only way it works"

Owen laughed before giving you a genuine smile, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. God, what a beautiful man.

"I can try to fix this and find a faulty elevator."

"So expect a text from me"

You smiled back at him and gave him a wink before turning on your heels. Owen's heart skipped a beat and he when he arrived several hours late in the hairdressing section of the set, Charlie laughed at him saying that he had never seen him so happy to have a haircut. hair. But in reality, the blond was only waiting for one thing, and that was to receive a message from you, which arrived in a second.

(y/n) text : "After being stuck in an elevator, here I am stuck in traffic ... Are you sure you want a date with me, you might just end up stuck with me?"

Owen couldn't help but smile broadly.

Owen text : "I'm sure. I'd love to even be stuck with you (again).”

(y/n) text : “Fine, ghost boy. See you soon”

#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen joyner x reader #jatp cast x reader #jatp cast imagine #julie and the phantoms #jatp

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bloody-hearts-lane · 3 years

Text

How the Slashers Would: Play Among Us

sorry it has taken me approximately a million years to start writing again! i hope the stuff i have in store might make up for it. but to kick it off, something a little bit goofy. c:

Amanda Young

rating: 9/10, upsettingly good.

she probably mains red or black.

amanda is a menace in this game. shes the kind of player that, no matter how good you or anyone else is, you can NEVER tell if she's the imposter or not.

she's just so good at hiding it! half the time, she absolutely carries her imposter team, and you never even know.

she always kills you last, though, if she has to kill you at all. so thats nice, i guess–

she really enjoys setting up games so every aspect can be exactly the way she wants it. she also prefers playing in one imposter games, because she thinks its more challenging that way.

Billy Loomis

rating: 8/10, so..... suspicious.

for SURE mains black.

he's the kind of player who can pull of the weirdest, most confusing series of kills. probably shockingly good at setting up and executing stack kills. how?? how does he do it so smoothly????

he's usually pretty okay at hiding that he's the imposter.

but he will loudly complain if he doesn't get imposter often enough for his liking. he will also get personally offended if you (or stu, or both) get imposter a lot in one game, and he doesn't.

when you get a round where the imposters are really bad, no matter what the reason could be, he critiques the hell out of them and complains about how they are no fun to play with.

he loves when the two of you are an imposter team. even better, on bigger maps, he loves when you, him, and stu are all imposters. it happens rarely, but its his favorite thing.

you know he's considering killing you when he gets weirdly quiet in the middle of a round. just stay away from the vents, you might be fine.

Stu Macher

rating: 7/10, very fun, very chaotic.

never has a main color. switches it up every round. he also likes to wear the pumpkin on his head, or the fried egg.

stu is a good talker, so a lot of the time, he manages to talk his way out of being voted off. you've even seen him manage to talk his way out of being voted off when someone saw him kill another player in front of them.

he's considerably more chaotic than billy, so his kills aren't as smooth, but he has an unnatural knack for knowing when people are alone and taking them out.

he brings a lot of energy to games.

even when you play with him, you make it your number one goal to never be alone with him in a room, just in case.

he assures you that he would never kill you!! (spoiler alert, he won't, until he cant get anyone else alone and he asks you to come watch him do a visual task, only to kill you and win the game. how rude, stu.)

Bo Sinclair

rating: 3/10, girl..... calm down.

feels like a dark blue main.

have you ever seen someone rage quit among us? you're about to!

has a bad habit of getting aggressive in chat, so people tend to vote him pretty quickly even if he isn't imposter.

he fully exits the game the second his poor little character gets shot into space, and then you get to hear about how stupid everyone is while he watches you play over your shoulder.

to be fair, he was usually correct about who the imposter was, so he is a LITTLE justified about being angry, but. homeboy has some Anger Issues and the rage is very real.

as the imposter, he's usually pretty good at not getting caught.... until someone asks what he's been doing or where he was, and he gets a little too defensive.

you can see it coming from a mile away, and if you don't want to hear about him losing for the next three hours, feel free to tell everyone he's been with you the whole time.

Brahms Heelshire

rating: 5/10, stop hiding!!!

mains dark green or dark blue.

dude. get out of the vents.

everytime he kills someone, he will immediately hide in the vents until someone reports the body and the next round starts.

the only time he breaks this pattern is if someone is standing directly over or in front of the vent, at which point he pops out to kill them and then pops right back in.

i mean it works??? i guess??? but come ON–

he has never killed you when he was the imposter, and he gets mopey if you kill him, so i advise against it.

whenever he isn't imposter, he follows you around for like 90% of the game, just watching you complete all your tasks before he even starts his. and he expects you to stay with him while he does his!

Carrie White

rating: 6/10 so pure. so good.

genuinely dislikes being the imposter. she isn't good at lying to people, so she always gets herself caught, and she usually ends up lowkey freaking out and either self reporting the body or not running away fast enough and getting caught.

mostly, when she's imposter, she will close doors and sabatoge things in the hopes that her partner will do the rest.

she usually mains white, and either has the little flower on her head or the the little sprout. gives off very sweet vibes.

as a crewmate, she is very dutiful in getting her tasks done. she always vouches for people, especially you, and will always volunteer to watch someone do a visual task. (sometimes you go with her just to make sure this doesn't backfire on her...... no murdering carrie on your watch).

she talks to everyone in chat too, both in the lobby, and in deadchat. she makes friends everywhere!

she may not be the best at the game, but she is sO fun to play with. just a good wholesome time.

Jason Vorhees

rating: 2/10....... he tried.

do NOT let him set up the game, he will make the walking speeds so slow.

but, okay, first of all, how did you get him to play??? how did you convince him to agree to this??? are we sure he knows whats going on-

i suppose it doesn't matter, he would probably do anything you asked him to do anyway, and if he thinks you would really have fun playing with him, then heaven forbid he say no!

either way, he is dead. silent. for the whole game. he doesn't even type in chat, except for the very occasional 'yes' or 'no.'

he would probably be the person who just said 'yes' if someone asked if he was the imposter.

he also doesn't have a main color, but mostly because he either doesn't know HOW to change it, or doesn't care enough to do it. if you ask him/do if for him, though, he would like either dark green or brown. (you could even give it the cute little hockey mask!)

The Lost Boys (+Star)

rating: 4/10, children please.

this is a group thing. if you convince one of them to play, then they're ALL playing. hell, you might even manage to convince Star to play.

paul is the single most untrustworthy player you have ever seen. even when he ISNT the imposter, his absolute buckwild energy just makes him seem so suspicious. he sabotages everything, and he probably seeks you out just to kill you first.

marko is probably a yellow main, and he always wears the weirdest shit available. he gives me the vibes of someone who would probably get lost a lot on the bigger maps or be the person who pretends he's lost so he has an alibi

dwayne is the one you have to watch out for. he's so good at faking you out, you never know if he's the imposter until he stabs you in the back. he won't even feel bad about it.

sidenote, dwayne lets laddie co-pilot when he plays. laddie makes the decisions, so if someone dies, it was probably not dwaynes choice. these are the rounds where you probably won't die right away.

star is a very casual player, super noncommittal. she is both good to have on your team, and awful, because she will absolutely turn on you and vote you out to save herself as a last resort. shes the only one who won't immediately seek you out to kill you.

when all of them are crewmates, its a hot mess. no one can communicate with them spamming chat, paul never does his tasks, dwayne camps on cams, and marko ABUSES the emergency call button.

The Man

rating: 8/10, actually really good???

he mains red, with the classic hockey mask.

he gets like.... a little too into planning shit. its just a game, its not that deep, pls sir–

but that makes him a very capable imposter, and hes soo good at keeping up the facade and talking with you like nothing is wrong, and before you know it, he's killed three people in the first round.

its really a toss up on whether or not he'll kill you at all in the game. if he does, he saves you til last.

there are times where he gets a little too heated if someone catches him or his teammate turns on him, and he will be fuming until the game ends and he gets to rant into chat. thats usually when you need to step in–

other than that, he's pretty chill about the whole thing. he likes to experiment with kills, like stack kills and taking advantage of glitches or hiding spots.

hes also a MASTER of sabatoge. he's so good at using those tools.

Vincent Sinclair

rating: 8/10, friendship > everything else.

likes to main white, which is interesting, because he is NOT the typical white main.

as an imposter, he's actually pretty good.

he seems like the kind of person to lead you away from everyone, and vent in front of you to let you know hes an imposter, and then ruthlessly kill everyone except for you.

most of the time he will just follow you around to make sure no one else kills you while you do your tasks.

a lot more talkative in chat than you might think, too.

catch him highkey shit talking people with you

hes also a good teammate to have as a crewmember; he always remembers where everyone was, who he passed, who was in a room with who, etc.

just very cool to play with in general.

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missvifdor · 3 years

Text

Alright, I share a quick thought like this, but imagine Bucky having the DID (be careful, I want to make it clear that I'm not an expert and any mistakes on my part are unintentional and I'm sorry for being so stupid The DID is not a joke, it is a real trouble and I would never allow myself to laugh or joke about it).

So I was saying, Bucky having DID:

Thinking back to all the traumatic moments in his life, it would be easy enough to think that he could have had it. Imagine that at one point his brain and mind say "STOP" and no longer able to cope with all these events, decide that in order to survive, he must create a "shield" (I don't know if I am speaking correctly, sorry if that doesn't make sense).

Because if I'm not saying bullshit, that's what the host's DID is for, to protect it and that's where the Alters come in. The basis of the DID is that the host not supposed to know he has it.

But all the time, there will be signs: amnesia, dissociative disorder, depersonalization, derealization,. Imagine, one day, everything is going well, you get ready to go to sleep and then when you wake up, the date, the time have completely changed, you are now dressed and you have no memory of having lived this. that happened after you last remembered.

Now imagine Bucky going through the same thing, he'd be pretty scared I think.

Bucky would have these symptoms, but not just that. For example, he might feel like he has feelings, thoughts, moods, or anything else that is not ... his but belongs to someone else. Or he would hear voices talking to him (Wait, this has nothing to do with schizophrenia, the voices heard cannot be suppressed with medication and to the host this is really heard as a person's voice real voice or an interlocutor. These are real voices).

You know when we think and hear a voice but it is that of our subconscious, and well that is still different.

(I won't procrastinate any longer, but if you are interested, I advise you to inform yourself to find out more. For example, there is a youtube channel that talks about it because the designer has DID, she and other affected people talk about it here: https://youtu.be/ek7JK6pattE ).

Back to our Super Soldier:

Bucky, like anyone with DID will have both good and bad triggers.

The good ones would be: Music from the 40s, his favorite food, something that reminds him of his sister or mother, etc.

The bad ones: Something or someone who could bring back bad memories, maybe the language Russian, the pain linked to his metal arm, the situations where he cannot feel comfortable or very anxious, a dangerous mission that has gone off the rails a bit.

Let's talk about his Alters: The Winter Soldier will have taken a big place in his life and I think he probably never left him because he is part of him.

So I would lean towards the fact that Winter (let's call him that) has become one of his Alters. It would have become this:

Alter Trauma Holder and Persecutor: some of his tasks are to hold traumatic memories ... especially so that other Alters are not not disturbed by these memories and that the system works more or less. And often, well, trauma holders do not voluntarily choose this role, they are there because the brain did it like that and it can seem very unfair!

It is common that in addition to h: And, even when they do, sometimes they just aren't able to pass it on to the rest of the system and, unfortunately, to the outside either. This is one of the reasons why it is very difficult for a system to find and manage trauma or to talk to a therapist, for example. This is one of the reasons why it is very difficult for a system to find and manage trauma or to talk to a therapist, for example.

Trauma holders are also It called “Secret Keepers / Secret Holders”.

Her Part Persecutor: To put it mildly, the "Persecutor" is an alter who is hostile to the system or the outside world . Well, obviously, it’s nowhere near that simple.

In general, persecutors are alters who have internalized hatred or rejection, either towards themselves, towards other members of the system, or towards the outside world. It is a traumatic response that follows physical abuse, toxic relationships and assaults experienced by the system. Like the protectors, the persecutors seek to prevent further attacks, attack in defense or suffer for the rest of the system. But they ... don't always do it the right way.

There are different kinds of persecutors, some tend to reject any outside person, others may have internal words and feelings of worthlessness, still others may sabotage a possible therapy for fear of the medical profession, then of others can re-experience their traumas, injure themselves, etc… They are very often hyperviligant and easily activated.

They are sometimes very withdrawn and influenced by feelings causing for example a strong anxiety or suicidal thoughts. But they can also be authoritarian and seek to impose behavior on the rest of the system, considering that the others are incapable of protecting themselves and are responsible for the abuses suffered. Finally, some persecutors are a representation of aggressors and persecute the system like these. The persecutors are above all persecuted by trauma and in particular they need to be secure. It is very common that, once appeased, they become essential protectors of the system.

Here's another Alter, James: It would be quite similar to the Bucky of the 40s but different at the same time.

He would be an Alter Internal Self Helper: The "Internal Self Helper" is an alter that helps the system internally. It is not uncommon for ISHs to serve as some sort of mediator to the rest of the system, as if they were "the voice of reason."

They often have a good knowledge of Alters and how the system works (but this does not mean that they easily share this information). They are also often discreet, facing little or not at all or only side by side with another alter.

Internal self helpers are often associated with the creation and management of the innerworld, especially when it was conceived unconsciously.

ISH is a frequent supporting role among gatekeepers, protectors and sometimes among trauma holders.

And Bucky would be the host: Host "refers to the alter who fronts most of the time ... when all is well. And this nuance is important!

Indeed, the “Host” is a bit like the basic Alter, the one who is there when there is no need for any other Alter, no triggers, and no Alter is needed wanted to face. In principle, he manages the day-to-day life, so you would think that it is indeed the alter that uses the body most often, yes. But no.

A system is frequently affected by all the little things in life, whether or not it requires the presence of another Alter at the front. And, especially when it is not conscious, it can be common for another alter (social or protective, for example) to be more present than the host. It all depends on the environment of the system and the awareness of its multiplicity as well as the choices and possibilities of each of its members.

For this reason, there are systems without a host (or with a sleeping host) as well as systems with multiple hosts (which are then called co-hosts), which handle different aspects of the day-to-day. good. Of course, the hosts can also have another role, such as caretaker or alter social.e for example. It may also happen that a new host appears and the system changes hosts.

The host is a role that can be difficult to take in at times, as it is often the first alter to become consciously aware (yes, consciously aware) of his multiplicity. And it's already not easy to realize that we "are not alone in your head", but it is also difficult to realize that you have shared your whole life with "these others people in his head ”. It is very common for the host to doubt his legitimacy, to be afraid of lying, etc. They are often influenced by the feelings, thoughts and feelings of other Alters.

On the other hand, the host can usually be an alter who allows for better communication, as he or she serves as a bit of a mediator, conciliatory and benevolent towards the system and the outside world, while being held to it 'deviation from the consequences (emotional for example) of traumas. A stable host is an important basis for functional multiplicity.

Be careful, it must be said: the host is not the original! Many systems don't have an original, and while you might think the host is some kind of original, it isn't. Of course, if there is an original in the system, it can be a host. But, whether host and / or original, all Alters should be considered equally. (Really, for this to work, it's important to understand this)

Otherwise, a person with DID may have other Alters, the number can vary and they are all different!

Now, how would it be if Bucky had a Y / N ? Would other people in the system agree with that? Would Y / N manage and understand this situation? That is the whole question.

But let's imagine that in the best-case scenario, Winter and James are ok with this relationship and even have feelings for Y / N, it will still be a job all the time.

The best would be someone who can differentiate the three and act with the three as if they were three different individuals (Who they are and this is very important because each Alter deserves to be recognized).

Being in a relationship with Bucky is a bit like being with a big teddy bear who could easily shoot you in the head with near-deadly precision. And a gentleman under all circumstances, of course.

Being with Winter is complicated enough, but not impossible. You just have to know how to do it and above all succeed in interpreting his looks, his silences. The man is not the biggest talker but know that he would be ready to kill for you and protect you.

As for James his Fronts are very rare but when he will be there, believe me when I tell you that he will not leave you alone with his affections! He is surely the one who is the most sociable of the three and who will take the greatest pleasure in teasing you or improvising a dance with you in the middle of your living room.

Well I have finished! Do not hesitate to tell me what you think of it in the comments, or if you want a part two to find out more in general or to know more about the romantic relationship side + ... SNFW.

#bucky barnes preferences #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #alters #did you know #system #bucky imagine #bucky headcanon #bucky hcs #Tw

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cha-melodius · 3 years

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Tags: Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, (but everything else is the same), Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Mission Fic, Fluff, absurdly fluffy for a mission fic, blink and you miss it angst, Misunderstandings, Banter, Revelations, Public Displays of Affection, Developing Relationship, Idiots in Love, Non-Explicit Sex, Concerned Illya, Illya POV, Napoleon pov

Summary: Napoleon and Illya have to go undercover at a couples retreat, and the mission turns out to be both easier and harder than they expected.

Note: But chamel, I hear you saying, aren't there approximately eleventy-hundred undercover-as-a-couple fics in this fandom? Don't you have other things you've promised people you would write? Well, yes and yes, but I stumbled across this concept and inspiration is a bitch who insisted I write it, so here you go. I can promise that there is a twist to this one that I haven't seen in this fandom before (at least for this pairing, and of course I apologize if I missed something), so I hope it entertains. It's a mission fic, so it got longer than I planned of course, but it's not going to get super long *glares at story and tells it to behave*. The whole thing is very lighthearted, which I guess I needed after finishing a novel. I'll be updating on the weekends like I have in the past, because its easier to just keep to my schedule.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 [COMPLETE]

Preview of Chapter 1 below the cut, or read the whole chapter over at AO3. Chapters will be linked above each week.

“You’re late. Both of you,” Gaby hisses, jabbing an accusing finger in their direction. “We were supposed to be in briefing a half an hour ago.”

“It’ll be fine,” Napoleon counters smoothly. “Waverly probably hasn’t even finished making his tea.”

Gaby just glowers at him. There’s an easy grin on his face, but Illya can see the subtle tension in his shoulders, and he doesn’t doubt that she can see it too. She’s highly observant, even for a spy, and she knows them too well after more than a year of working together. Napoleon likes to pretend that he can still hide things from her, which is the whole reason they are late in the first place. Or rather, the argument that they had that morning about keeping secrets is the reason they are late, but Illya is happy to blame Napoleon.

Not that he can actually use that as an excuse out loud.

“What were you two up to before work, anyway?” she asks after she gestures impatiently for them to follow.

Illya looks sharply at her, but there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly knowing behind the question. Still, it’s disconcerting. “What? Why would you say that?”

“You arrived together, duh. Please don’t tell me that Napoleon called you to come get something off a high shelf for him.”

“Hey!” Napoleon protests, affronted, but Gaby ignores him.

“Actually, do tell if that’s the reason,” she muses, a small smile playing on her lips now. “It would serve him right. I don’t know why anyone needs bookshelves that go all the way to the ceiling.”

“It was coincidence,” Illya grumbles. He told Napoleon they should stagger their entrances, but, well, they were running late, and Napoleon insisted everyone would be too busy notice. In a spy agency. Illya doesn’t know why he listens to him, ever.

Napoleon opens his mouth to say something—some excuse for their suspicious arrivals, an insistence that he is in no way short, or a defense of his bookshelves; hard to tell which—but they’ve arrived at Waverly’s office by then. Their boss does not look pleased by the delay, though it is difficult to tell behind the genial British manners as he invites them to take their usual seats. Napoleon settles into the leather armchair, Illya on the couch, and Gaby perches on the edge of the desk, the better to get a glimpse of whatever intel Waverly’s working with. Like the files won’t be in all of their inboxes immediately after the briefing.

“You all know we’ve been tracking the dealings of the Catharus Corporation for the last few months,” Wavery begins, folding his hands lightly on the desk in front of him. “It has been frustratingly difficult to infiltrate their organization by the usual methods, we only find out about their transactions after they’ve been completed. Well, this time Analysis is sure that they’ve identified where their next sale will take place with just enough time to get agents in place.” “What’s the product?” Napoleon asks. Catharus seems to have a greatly diversified portfolio of black-market dealings, from weapons to art to secrets.

“We don’t know that,” Waverly tells him. “All we know is that the sale will happen here, sometime in the next four days.” He taps at his keyboard and the large monitor behind him displays photos of what looks to be a beach resort, somewhere tropical. There are palm trees and pairs of beach chairs in front of a good-sized even center, with quaint little blue-roofed huts dotting the surrounding landscape.

“Well that looks pleasant,” Napoleon says approvingly. “Always nice when villains have taste.”

Waverly gives him a typically dry look. “It’s a couples retreat.”

“Oh.”

The disappointment is obvious in Napoleon’s voice; couples missions almost always mean Illya and Gaby, and if it’s truly a retreat for couples only he’ll be reduced to taking a service position at the resort, if he even gets to go at all. He is part of the briefing, though, which suggests the former.

“Guess I’ll dig out my bikini,” Gaby chirps, her mood clearly improved.

“Guess again,” Waverly replies, so blithely that Illya almost doesn’t realize what he actually said. “This particular retreat is for same-sex couples.”

“Huh?” Gaby huffs.

“What?” Illya blurts.

“Say that again?” Napoleon queries, all at the same time.

“Same-sex couples, exclusively,” Waverly repeats, leveling his measured gaze at them each in turn. “I know this is an unusual request for you, and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were the best for the job.” He says all of this staring directly at Illya, which is understandable. That Napoleon is bisexual is in his file, and has been made use of multiple times in particular types of honeypot missions. Illya, though… Illya is the one who has always been visibly uncomfortable when those missions arise. Illya is the one who had point blank asked Waverly not to send him as backup on those missions unless it was strictly necessary.

It wasn’t for the reason that everyone thinks, though.

#napollya #napoleon x illya #napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #tmfu #the man from uncle #the man from u.n.c.l.e.#my fic

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duhragonball · 3 years

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Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch.109-113

Hard to believe we’re at the end of this crazy ride.

Last time, Joseph had defeated Kars, only for Stroheim to order his men to finish Kars off with UV rays. Stroheim just wanted Kars to hurry up and die faster, and maybe he also wanted credit for the kill, but instead he played right into Kars hands. After Joseph kicked his ass, Kars put on a Stone Mask he had stowed away somewhere, and he installed the Red Stone of Aja into the Mask.

I should probably go over that a bit, since it hasn’t been mentioned for a while. Kars has been perfecting the Stone Mask technology for thousands of years. It turns humans into vampires, but for his species it unlocks even greater powers. But Kars hit a wall in his research. He wanted to design a mask that would make him the ultimate life form, but he lacked the means to power such a mask. He discovered an answer in the Aja Stone, a mineral that focuses light, but he needed a bigger, more flawless sample of it, and that’s the Stone he’s using right now, the one he captured from Lisa Lisa.

So instead of killing Kars, Stroheim accidentally made his lifelong ambition come true. One nice touch I just noticed is that the Mask itself falls apart as soon as it’s finished its task. I suppose, in theory, someone else could have tried it on and get the same power boost as Kars? Would it even work on a normal human? Well, we’ll never find out.

There’s a couple of ways to interpret this. One is that Kars’ “Super” Mask was highly experimental, and it must have been untested, since he’d never had Lisa’s stone until now. So it’s possible that the thing burned itself out after a single use. The other interpretation is that Kars designed this Mask to self-destruct after the first use, because it was never intended for anyone else but himself. The whole point of this was to become the Ultimate Life Form, the very pinnacle of all living creatures on Earth. I think it was implied that Wammu and Esidisi were expecting to share in this power when the time came, but why would Kars have ever allowed for this? What’s the point of being the greatest and best in the world if you have to share that top spot with two other guys?

Stroheim realllly wants to believe this is all a big fluke, and that he didn’t just make the bad guy stronger. The Ripple wound on Kars’ arm is still there, so Stroheim figures he’ll die anyway. Except Kars doesn’t seem too bothered by his injury. And then...

Yeah, so Kars not only repairs his injured arm, he reshapes his hand into a squirrel. Joseph speaks for us all: What the fuck?

For a hot minute, everyone thinks the squirrel he made is kind of cute, until Kars sends it to find another squirrel and kill it. Then the Kars-squirrel tears a hole through Stroheim and carves a trench in a Nazi soldier from chest to eyeball. Then it rejoins Kars’ wrist, and turns into a flower, and then a butterfly. Some Part 5 and 6 pre-references for ya.

Then the sun comes up. Wait, the Joseph/Wammu fight happened around midnight, right? How many hours have these folks been out here? And it’s February, too, so this had to have been a long night. Anyway, the sun comes up, so we’re saved, right? Wrong. Sunlight doesn’t hurt Kars anymore, thanks to the power he got from his special mask. So now what are they supposed to do?

Well, Joseph’s going to use his last resort: running away. Also, he grabs the Aja Stone, for no apparent reason. Kars grows a pair of wings to chase him. He no longer cares about the Hamon users, because they’re no longer a threat to him. But he wants to kill Joseph personally, both to celebrate his new powers and to avenge the deaths of Wammu and Kars.

Smokey joins Joseph, which doesn’t make much sense to Joseph, but Smokey wants to tell Joseph about Lisa Lisa being his mother. Except Joseph’s a little too distracted by the eldritch horror that’s trying to murder him. Read the room, Smokey.

Here’s a helpful diagram of Kars to explain what his deal is now. Basically, he’s immortal and can regenerate and reshape his whole body, but he had that before, just by being a Pillar Man. The big upgrade is that he’s no longer weak to sunlight (and by extension, the Ripple), and he can now replicate the traits of any life form on Earth. He’s faster than cheetahs and has better hearing than bats and so on. He can go for a full year without eating, and he no longer needs to sleep. Sex is meaningless to him, because procreation is only important for lower life forms to maintain their species. Kars has no need for children or bretheren. “There is but only one summit.”

Maybe Wammu and Esidisi had understood that truth all along, and they never seriously expected Kars to share this power with them. They practically worshipped Kars as it was, so maybe they were only doing this for the greater glory of their leader.

So what does Kars plan to do with all of this power he now has? The Aja Stone was his only goal before, and that’s done. He has no enemies to fear, and as Speedwagon observes, there’s no way left to kill him. This page states that his only purpose now is to create a world to match his own desire, but what is that? What’s Kars’ vision for the Earth now that he’s reached this point?

We never really find out, and I suppose that’s why it’s convenient that he decided to start out by killing Joseph. For all we know, he would have just chilled out and left humanity alone after that, but this way there’s still an immediate threat to deal with.

Miraculously, Joseph manages to stay ahead of Kars long enough to find the airplane that brought Stroheim here. You’d think Kars could have caught up to him with all these fancy new powers, but Kars was never in much of a hurry. He took his time to search for the Aja Stone, and he made it a point to trap Jojo and Lisa rather than risk fighting them fairly. So even now, when he has such an overwhelming advantage, he seems to be playing things the same way. He has no weaknesses, so he may as well take his time and stalk Joseph, if only to watch him squirm.

Joseph tries using the plane’s weapons to even the odds, but Kars grows armadillo hide on his wings to protect himself, and he fires the armor at Joseph like shrapnel. So machinery doesn’t seem to make much of a difference.

So Joseph just flies south, using the plane’s engines to give himself a comfortable lead. He’ll run out of fuel in a couple of hours, but Speedwagon calls him on the radio and tells him that they’ll figure out a plan. Except that Joseph already has his own plan. There’s a volcanic island off the coast of Italy. I assume this is Stromboli Island, since Italy has only three active volcanoes, and Mt. Stromboli is the only one on an island. Anyway, Joseph plans to lure Kars into the volcano, and destroy him with molten lava. I mean, Kars is still flammable, right?

Speedwagon hates this idea, because he doesn’t see any way for Joseph to pull this off without getting killed in the process, and that sounds way too much like what happened to Joseph’s father and grandfather. Oh, and his great-grandfather. I didn’t notice George I up there until just now. Speedwagon tries to tell Joseph about Lisa being his mom, but Joseph can’t hear him because of all the piranha noises in the plane. Wait... what?

Yeah, all the feathers that Kars turned into armor and launched into the fuselage? Well, he’s still controlling those things, and now Kars has turned them into piranhas. Well, I guess not literal fish, since they’d never survive up here. The point is that Kars can control every cell in his body and mimic any animal traits he wants, so if he wants to make small bitey creatures to wreck Joseph’s plane, he might as well make them look like piranhas. ALso he makes an octopus that tears up one of the engines.

So Joseph bails out, but he’s a sitting duck in that parachute. Kars calls him a butterfly caught in a web, which is the second time we’ve seen that analogy in Part 2. Araki just out here telling everyone what Jolyne would be wearing in twelve years.

But the parachute contains a dummy. Why did Joseph waste time drawing a face on it? Because he knew he had to fool Kars’ razor-sharp senses, of course. Kars probably saw the dummy, and got suspicious, but then he noticed the eyes and mouth, and though “Oh, okay, I guess that’s a real person then.”

Anyway, this suckers Kars in so that Joseph can crash into him with his plane and they can both go into the volcano together.

But Kars thinks he can tear up the plane before it lands. Except a robot hand grabs him from behind, and he finds Stroheim stowed away. Wait, so Stroheim outran Joseph AND Kars and hid in this plane before Joseph took off?

Anyway, Stroheim manages to get Joseph out of the plane to relative safety, but he crushes his whole lower body in the process. But it seems to be worth it, because Kars landed smack-dab in the volcano! Awesome! Fuck you, Kars, you screwed over Lisa Lisa, and that’s what you get! He tries to protect himself, but he can’t grow a defense against 1000 degree heat...

... is what I would say, except no, Kars totally does that. Just when Joseph thinks Kars has succumed to the lava, Kars pops out and slices off Joseph’s left arm with his goofy blade.

How the fuck did Kars survive? Well, he couldn’t grow a lava-proof shell, but he could create a porous layer beneath the shell, and use the air inside to insulate the rest of his body from the heat. That wouldn’t protect him indefinitely, but it was enough to get the drop on Joseph.

So that’s it then, right? Not even molten lava can kill Kars, unless you could shove him down in there and keep him still for like ten minutes, and who’s going to pull that off? Stroheim begins to lose all hope...

Then we get a flashback to Kars’ origin. Long, long ago, there was a race of subterranean humanoid with long lifespans and an aversion to sunlight. Prehistoric humans thought of them as gods or demons because of their reclusiveness and power. Also, they would eat humans and animals, so that probably made them dangerous, too.

But I don’t think they were nearly as powerful as the Pillar Men we’ve seen in this story. I say this because the flashback establishes that Kars was the one who discovered the latent power in their brains, and he was the one who invented the Stone Mask technology to harness that latent power. So it stands to reason that much of what he and the others could do was the result of Stone Mask enhancements. The problem is that those enhancements increased the amount of blood they needed to consume, and the others in the Clan feared that Kars’ experiments would destroy their whole ecosystem. So when they tried to stop Kars, he killed them all. The only survivors were himself, Esidisi, and two young children who grew up to become Wammu and Santana.

So that story tells you something about what Kars might do with this newfound “ultimate” power. He didn’t achieve this for the good of his own people, because they’re all dead now, and he wiped most of them out personally. If he would do that to his own kind, the rest of the Earth would be expendable to him.

Back to the present, Joseph’s not giving up yet. He tries to use the Ripple one more time, but it doesn’t work. Worse, Kars counters with his own Ripple. Because Kars can do that now, you see. He’s got the powers of all life on Earth, and that includes Ripple users, I suppose. Worse, Kars’ Hamon power is hundreds of times greater, so he ends up getting badly burned on his right knee.

So now Joseph’s completely out of tricks, and he starts to accept the inevitable. Kars decides that the best way to kill Joseph would be to destroy him with his own finisher, Ripple Overdrive. So he charges up the most powerful Hamon attack he can muster, and just as he’s about to strike...

Joseph impulsively grabs the Red Stone of Aja and uses it to block, kind of like how he stymied Kars back on that cliff in Switerland. Only this time, Kars doesn’t hold back, and the Hamon attack is amplified. It bursts through Joseph’s right hand and into the volcano below.

The narration says that not even Joseph really understood any of this. He just sort of acted on instinct. That bothered me once, but now I see that it wasn’t entirely unconscious impulse. Back in Venice, when Lisa first told Joseph about the Aja Stone, Joseph suggested destroying it to deny Kars his prize. But Lisa said there was a legend that foretold that Kars could never be defeated without the Aja Stone. And that would at least explain why Joseph picked the thing up back in Switzerland before he fled to Mt. Stromboli. Maybe it was unconscious action that made him pick up the stone in this fateful moment, but I think it was a more conscious thought that made him take the stone with him in the first place. On some level, he remembered that legend.

Okay, so there’s a mega-ultra-Super-Saiyan-5-Ripple that just went into a live volcano. What good does that do? Well, it makes the volcano erupt, and it launches Joseph and Kars into the air. So what? Kars can fly. Yeah, he could, but...

You know, Joseph’s lost hand really left an impression on me when I first watched the anime of Part 2, but now that I’ve read the manga, I’ve noticed tons of severed and wounded forearms all through this story, almost as if Araki had been building up to this moment. I’d make a Part 4 joke, but nah, that’s too easy. But it wasn’t even that long ago that Wammu lost both of his hands, and then he launched them as Joseph to distract him. Kars lost his hand before he grew it back and turned it into a squirrel. Hell, Stroheim launched his robot hand at Kars to distract him for the volcano crash. And now Joseph’s hand has somehow launched itself into Kars’ throat to distract him again!

I’m assuming that Hamon energy has a lot to do with this. You’d think Joseph’s hand wouldn’t have survived getting fired up this high, and it shouldn’t be powerful enough or alive enough to bother Kars this much, but it does. So I’m chalking it up to all that Ripple energy. It briefly reanimated Joseph’s hand and made it follow Kars up to this altitude, kind of like how Jonathan controlled Wang Chung’s decapitated body at the end of Part 1.

So Joseph taunts Kars about this, and implies that he planned this somehow. And when Kars pauses to ask if he did plan this, more rocks and stuff from the volcano hit him and send him even higher up into the air.

And Joseph claims that he did plan this entire thing! That’s bullshit, but he hopes Kars will believe it, if only to make him more frustrated. Maybe Joseph didn’t plan all this out, but he seems to have deduced what’s happening here.

Kars has been launched so high into the air, and at such an incredible speed, that he’s achieved escape velocity. Does Kars even realize what that means? I mean, he’s super-intelligent, especially now, and he’s been alive for thousands of years, but what could he really know about outer space? Has he ever even considered it before? It seems like all of his ambitions involve the Earth, and only the Earth, and everything living upon it.

As for Joseph, the chunk of rock he’s on does not fly into space. Instead, it starts to fall back down, and Joseph assumes that he’s probably not going to survive the impact. Eight hours later, Stroheim makes it back and informs Speedwagon that Joseph must have died in the eruption.

But Kars isn’t worried at first, because he thinks he has this whole “vacuum of space” thing figured out. He just takes a page from Wammu’s playbook and makes air jets on his back to expel compressed gas from his body, like the maneuvering thrusts on a spacecraft. Except that’s not nearly enough to counteract the force of the volcano that sent him up here.

Yeah, Kars has no idea how space works. Instinctively, he probably counted on friction to slow him down, except there is no friction in space. He probably also expected his air jets to push him a little bit at a time, and maybe he could pull in more air as needed, except there is no more air. Even the air from his body is denied to him, because it just dissipates into the vacuum of space. Kars talks about the air freezing as it comes out, but I don’t think that’s right. What’s happening to him is like when you use one of those compressed gas canisters to clean your keyboard. Release a lot of the gas at once, and the can starts to get cold. That’s because the liquefied gas left inside the can now has more room, and it begins to boil as it expands. This draws in heat from the surroundings, which makes the can feel cold to the touch. That’s what’s happening to Kars here. All he’s doing it losing all his body heat. Maybe some of the air really is freezing around him, but I don’t know. It depends on whether the sunlight is hitting him, I think.

Anyway, the last thing Kars says is “I can’t go back!!!” And that’s what makes this so perfect. In the anime, we see the Earth recede into the distance as he continues to tumble further and further away. By surviving the lava, Kars had “mastered” the Earth, but now he’s been separated from the Earth. He’s got all this incredible power, but without the Earth, he’s got no one to use it on.

And then we come to the pièce de résistance of Battle Tendency: The epilogue page that establishes, in no uncertain terms, that Kars never returned to the Earth. There’s no miracle escape this time, no clever trick or loophole. He simply doesn’t have the necessary acceleration to push himself back the way he came.

Did he die? Nope, because he made himself immortal, remember? Not even sunlight or starvation can destroy him now. But now death is the only thing he craves, because he’s completely alone and has nothing to do. I can’t imagine he’s very comfortable like this either, because it’s incredibly cold in outer space, and Kars must be able to sense that cold, even if it doesn’t actually hurt him.

And this is such a fitting punishment for a villain like Kars. Just as Stroheim wanted to become superior and lost his humanity in the process, Kars ruthlessly sacrificed friend and foe alike to achieve this Ultimate form, and what good does it do him? It’s become his prison, his hell. At long last, he’s become the supreme being, a world unto himself, but with no one around to lord it over, there’s really no point to any of it.

I just really love this ending. I’m not sure how else I can express it. This is what should have happened to Akio Othori in Revolutionary Girl Utena. But Araki was brace enough to do it to Kars.

I suppose I could attempt some exercise in JoJo Part Comparison and connect Kars’ final fate to all the other JoJo villains. But I dunno, this is getting pretty long in the tooth as it is. I’ll just say that I’m suddenly reminded of Reimi’s final words to Kira in Part 4, when Kira asks where he’s being taken. “Who knows? But I’m sure it’s somewhere you won’t be able to rest in peace.”

So all that’s left is the matter of Joseph’s funeral-- Nah, just kidding, he’s not even dead. What’s weird is that Smokey says he met Joseph “six months ago”, which seems a lot longer than the events of this story. Anyway, Joseph returned to New York, only to find everyone at the cemetary. He wonders who they’re mourning, and he’s shocked to discover it’s him.

So yeah, the rock Joseph was on acted as a “shield”, and he managed to survive the fall, and even ended up near Venice, where Suzie Q found him and tended to his injuries. Stroheim even set him up with a robotic hand to replace the one Kars lopped off. I guess Stroheim never sent word of any of this to the U.S., probably because of Nazi Germany gearing up for World War II.

Anyway, Suzie took care of him for like two weeks, and they got married. So in a way, Joseph did follow in the legacy of Jonathan. Not in the “dying young” way, but the “Beat the bad guy and wake up in the care of a gorgeous blonde lady who eventually marries you” kind of way. You love to see it. But Suzie forgot to send a telegram to New York to let everyone know Joseph was okay, which is why everyone is so shocked and why Joseph is so shocked about them being shocked.

Then we get the epilogues for all the surviving characters. I mentioned this when I liveblogged the Part 5 manga a few years ago, but the stark contrast between Battle Tendency and Vento Aureo is that Part 5 is very ambiguous about its ending. We know who wins and who loses and who survives, but that isn’t really enough. We don’t know what will happen to Giorno Giovanna after Part 5. Does he live up to his lofty dream, or does he succumb to corruption like his wicked father? I think that’s intentional, because Giorno is the “golden wind” in the story. He’s an agent of change, but we don’t get to see the effects of his efforts, only the cause that he fights for. But Part 2 operates in the exact opposite way. We know exactly how and when Speedwagon dies. I’m a little confused how Stroheim could have died at Stalingrad when Kars and a volcano couldn’t kill him, but maybe the Russians had Stand powers. I think the only minor mystery is that we don’t know what happened to Lisa Lisa after 1948. It’s likely that she survived into Part 3, and maybe beyond, but we never see her again.

It’s also kind of weird how upbeat this epilogue is about reporting on the deaths of so many characters. Like, Stroheim died in one of the worst battles in human history, but he went out on his own terms, so it’s cool? I guess? Even the characters without deaths, like Smokey, it’s sort of implicit that he’ll die sooner or later. But it’s a good thing because it’s final and proper. It’s something Kars craves now, but can never experience. A life worth living, made more precious by its limitations. Kars tried to use cheat codes in nature, and he ended up clipping through the map and making the game unplayable. But Smokey, he‘ll be mayor someday.

As for Joseph, we see him in an airport in 1987, bullying Japanese people because his daughter married a Japanese guy and moved there. He’s headed to Japan right now to see her and his grandson, who probably doesn’t even recognize him, it’s been so long.

On the other hand, he appreciates his Walkman, which is either Joseph giving the Japanese some credit, or maybe he’s just too dense to notice the irony.

I hate that he’s listening to the Beatles, because the Beatles are overrated trash. My favorite thing about the Part 2 anime is how they changed his music to “Bloody Stream” by Coda, which a) kicks ass and b) wasn’t a song by the shitty Beatles.

And that’s Battle Tendency. Kind of neat how it closes on Joseph’s flight departing to visit his daughter and grandson, in contrast to the final panel of Part 1, which showed Erina floating in a coffin alone in the ocean. Joseph has bucked the curse and he’s graduated to Part 3, for better or worse.

But I feel kind of weird leaving it here, because I do love the way the anime wrapped up, so I’ll close out with this:

Tsugi ni omae wa “Grazie!” to iu!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #battle tendency #joseph joestar #kars #rudol von stroheim #lisa lisa #robert e o speedwagon #smokey brown #esidisi #wammu #erina joestar #george joestar #jonathan joestar #george joestar ii #suzie q

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