#and I’ll most likely write them in the order of which they were voted

[crybaby-bkg]

okay now that I’ve finished scorned and can start working on one shots again………….

feel free to ask about any of them, since I have most already started and have the premise of how they’re all gonna go!!!!

[restlessmaknae]

crush into you // myung jaehyun

When you literally crush into Jaehyun on your way to an interview, the boy manages to spill iced coffee on your blouse. That's how you end up wearing his own blazer to the interview to cover up the spot, and the rest is history.

➳ Characters: uni student!Jaehyun x uni student!female reader/you

➳ Genre: meet cute, slice of life, uni au, fluff

➳ Words: 3k

➳ Warning: mentions of foods

➳ A/N: This story had the second most votes in my recent poll, so here it is. I'm really enjoying their comeback, so it was very easy to write a story about Jaehyun. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! ❤️

➳ Taglist: @s00buwu, @dat-town

Your days were carefully planned out with written to-do lists, calendar apps filling up your phone, and multiple scenarios made up with every plan that you might have. Just like today when you were about to go to an assessment centre as part of a job interview: a 3-hour selection process with an hour of group work, an hour of one-on-one interview with the hiring manager alongside an HR specialist and an hour for individual tests. You planned out when to leave the flat, when to get on the bus, which bus to take in case you didn’t manage to get on the exact bus you wanted and when you could possibly leave your neighbourhood the latest in order to still get to the company in time.

Myung Jaehyun’s days, on the other hand, were a hot mess. He was frequently running late from classes, group work meet-ups and dance practices, high on adrenaline and energy drinks. No one blamed him because the moment he flashed a smile, it was game over for them. Taesan might have given him a bombastic side eye for such a comment, but it was rare that anyone really reprimanded Jaehyun for being a bit too hyper, a bit too all over the place and a bit of a kid at times.

So when you literally crushed into him as you turned a corner towards the company and he was running around with his iced coffee in hand, trying not to be late from a class, on his part, the collision wasn’t that unexpected.

On your part though, it totally was.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry,” the boy exclaimed first things first just at the same time as you started apologising to him, but when you felt an odd cold sensation around your abdominal area, you immediately looked down at your white blouse, your lips parting in disbelief.

“Oh nooo,” you pouted, looking at the brownish spot on your white blouse caused by his coffee, multiple scenarios crossing your head as to how to fix this. You didn’t have enough time to go back to your flat to change, you weren’t familiar with the area, so you didn’t know whether they had a clothes shop around, and you didn’t know whether trying to get the stain out would only make it worse and the spot more noticeable or not.

“Oh. My. Gosh. I’m so… very… sorry,” the stranger reacted more dramatically than you would have thought so, all wide eyes and exasperated expression tinting his otherwise boyish features, messy jet-black locks falling into his eyes. As opposed to your business casual style - white blouse with black cotton pants and high-heeled sandals -, he looked more like a sophisticated yet fashionable guy around campus with his burgundy sports shoes, leather pants, a simple white tee, a black blazer and multiple accessories crowning the look from rings on his fingers to necklaces gracing his skin. You couldn’t have looked any different at that moment.

“I’ll make it up, I promise. Are you in a hurry, are you heading somewhere?” He asked nevertheless, his puppy eyes also in contrast to his whole appearance.

“Well, yeah, I’m going for a job interview. I’ll have to be there in 15 minutes, and it’s still like a 5-minute walk from here.”

“Oh no, that’s not good,” he shook his head, and with the hand that didn’t hold the half-empty cup of the rest of his coffee, he scratched the back of his neck. He bit down on his lower lip, clearly in deep contemplation, and you were about to end this whole conversation when his actions made you freeze on the spot. In a whirlwind moment of events, he threw his cup into a nearby trash can, got a tissue out of his pocket to clean his hand that the coffee also spilled onto and slid the blazer off himself to reach it out to you. “Here, take this. It might be a bit big on you, but it will cover up the spot nicely, and I think it will go well with your outfit.”

“But…”

“Please, take it. I don’t really know what else to do right now, and you have a job interview in 15 minutes, and I’m terribly sorry, and I don’t want you to mess it up because of me. So it might be worth a try? I don’t know, I just…” The boy kept talking on and on, his voice cheery yet also filled with guilt, and seeing his puppy eyes shining with genuine care, you didn’t have the heart to say no. What could possibly go wrong about trying it on either way?

“I was about to say that it’s actually a pretty smart idea,” you pointed out as you reached out for the blazer, and the boy’s face lit up fully when you complimented him. He flashed you a wide, toothy grin, his smile pushing his lips closer to his eyes, so much that his eyes almost disappeared while he was smiling at you.

The boy even offered to hold your bag while you put the blazer on, and since it had two buttons on the bottom, it allowed you to fully cover up the spot as if it had never been there. He was right though, it was big on you, but oversized was in fashion these days, right?

“Oh my gosh, it really does fit you,” he pointed it out in a similarly excited manner as before, and you smiled back at him, forgetting for a moment why you had even been wearing his clothes. Just for a moment though, you were back to your planning self within a second.

“Thanks for your help, but I really need to go now. Would you give me your number, so I can give it back to you later on?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he said as he fished his phone out of his pocket to exchange contacts with you. As you locked your screen after saving his number, you looked up at him, into his shining jet-black orbs, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Gosh, your days were always so planned out, plan Bs and Cs tucked into your mind with every scenario that you could imagine, yet this, this was exactly the kind of thing you could not prepare yourself for. No wonder you were awfully unprepared for what to say.

Luckily, he was the one who woke up from his stupor first as he announced:

“Let me know how the interview goes. Good luck! You’ve got this!” He cheered you on as he threw his balled fists into the air, and off he went, the picture of his wide, toothy smile and his shining eyes difficult to forget even if you had more important things to concentrate on.

You agreed on meeting at a café a few days later. Those few days were enough for you to wash and dry clean the blazer, and to get a gift bag, so you could give it back to the boy (Jaehyun based on his KKT ID) in a presentable manner. You were supposed to be early for your agreed meet-up as you made your way to the café 10 minutes earlier, but you already found Jaehyun sitting at a corner table, scrolling through his phone and occasionally laughing out loud at whatever he was watching.

Jaehyun was not supposed to be early for your agreed meet-up, but given your well-prepared state the last time you had met, he started wondering where you could be at 15:15 when he had thrown himself into the café, totally panicked that you must have already been sitting there. Only to realise upon checking your messages with you that you had actually agreed on meeting at 15:30, meaning that he was actually 15 minutes early, not 15 minutes late. Not too bad for someone like him though.

So when you walked up to him and your voice dragged him out of his mindless scrolling, he flashed a wide smile at you, the one that had been engraved into your memories since your first encounter.

“Hey! Have you been waiting for a long time?” You inquired curiously as you hopped down on the chair on the opposite side of the table. Jaehyun let out a semi-embarrassed chuckle, one that made you furrow your eyebrows in question, although the smile was still playing on your lips.

“Well, that’s a funny story,” he started with a scratch on his neck before he continued with the story. “I thought… no, I was convinced that we were supposed to meet at 15:00, and so, I was fashionably late as usual. You know how I said that I’m usually late, but I’ll try my best to come on time. When I didn’t see you here at 15:15 when I got here, I checked our conversation on KKT, and it turns out we were supposed to meet at 15:30, so I was 15 minutes early.”

“Oh my gosh,” you couldn’t hold back your laughter as you were listening to his explanation, and the way he told the story made everything ten times funnier. He used wide hand gestures while speaking, and he played with his tone to deliver the parts of the story even more clearly. The boy laughed at himself too, so it didn’t feel weird laughing at his antics, something so unlike yours.

After pulling yourself together, you gave him the bag with the clean blazer, yet, he insisted that you shouldn’t have cleaned it yourself and bought a gift bag for him in which you delivered it. Hearing that, you insisted that crushing into him was partly your fault, and he did save you from having to sit though the 3-hour selection process with a visible coffee-stain on your blouse, so this was the least you could do. Plus, even though you didn’t say it out loud, you found it cute how he had asked about your interview afterwards on KKT (what position it was for, what company it was and how it went), and how delighted he had been when you had told him that you think you had done well. He had sent some encouraging memes in return (like the kid with his balled fists and a determined face), and just the thought that pretty much a stranger like him could be so happy and cheer you on eased your frazzled nerves post-interview.

You ordered your drinks while he was asking about your days and how you had been since you had last met. That’s when your phone buzzed, and seeing the company’s name on the screen that you had interviewed for, you immediately reached for it. Swiftly, you unlocked your screen and opened the message, only to let out a little bit of a squeal when you saw that you had gotten in.

“Oh my god, what is it?” Jaehyun asked, and his confusion was written all over his features when you looked up from your phone.

“I’ve got the internship! I’ve got in!”

Immediately, the boy’s features softened, and his lips pulled into a genuine, wide smile that could outdo the sun, his jet-black orbs twinkling with joy.

“Wow, congrats! That’s so cool!” He beamed, practically as excited as you, and clapped his hands enthusiastically. You could see from the corner of your eyes that you got some stares from the people nearby, but you couldn’t care less in your state. Finally, you landed an internship offer! “It’s totally the blazer’s doing though,” Jaehyun added cheekily, his smile turning into a crooked, almost cocky one.

“Yeah, totally, me and your emotional support blazer against the world,” you replied in a similarly teasing tone, and let out a laugh at the same time as the boy did. Gosh, who would have thought that you would meet him for the first time on the day you interviewed for the company, and you would meet him again when you were notified of your result?

Maybe he was really your lucky charm.

“You gotta celebrate though. Let’s order cake! I think I saw some cakes on the menu, and before you object, it’s on me,” the boy announced matter-of-factly, and grabbed a menu from a nearby empty table. You shook your head, seeing his pumped up state, since you couldn’t believe that he was so supportive of you. After all, you had barely met a week ago, and still, he acted as if you had always known each other, and it warmed your heart.

In the end, you did order some cakes (and you let Jaehyun pay for them), and while you were munching on them, you talked�� and talked… and talked some more since it seemed that you could never run out of things to share. First and foremost, Jaehyun always had a story to share - mostly chaotic, yet partly cute ones -, and even if he didn’t, he always asked about your side, and it was just so easy to talk to him. Usually, you needed some time to open up to people, but he made talking to him feel so easy, so light, so comfortable.

Your favourite was when he insisted that he looked like a wolf, and pouted when you agreed with all his friends who said that he looked more like a puppy. When you added that if not a puppy, you saw him as a bunny, he perked up because that was the first time he heard about it. Never have you ever thought that a boy like him could get so specific about the animal he resembled, but you let him talk about it all he wanted to see those eyes shining so bright, to see that smile stretching so wide.

You packed up only when the waitress came by to tell you that you were nearing closing hours, and if that wasn’t a sign that you did lose track of time beside him, you had no idea what could indicate it more that beside him, you wanted to stop time, not wait for it to go by faster.

You had one crush in your whole life, and that had been when you had been 12, and the new kid had entered your class, and he had sat beside you. Said kid had turned out to be a total nutcase when he had opened his mouth, and you had officially dropped your crush 3 weeks into the new school year, and ever since then, you had never felt butterflies in your stomach, let alone declare your love for someone.

Until him.

Jaehyun had too many crushes in his life to count. His heart was just as erratic as his life, and it’s not that he was playing with others’ feelings, it’s more like he had too much love and joy to give others, but they didn’t always appreciate it. He fell in love easily, only to have his heart broken even more easily because his crushes had never liked him back.

Until you.

At first, you didn’t know if he felt the same way because he seemed so casual, you found it hard to believe that he could see you as more than a friend.

At first, he didn’t know if you felt the same way because you seemed so cool, so put together, he found it hard to believe that you could see him as more than a friend with his very different (and very chaotic) self.

Then, you started picking up on the signs: the way he showed you his dance practice routines to ask for your opinion when it was just the two of you at the dance studio he attended; the way he was ever so oblivious to the barista girl at a café because he only had eyes for you; the way he always asked about your day on KKT and sent memes to match your mood; the way he remembered every little thing - the date of your first 1-on-1 with your manager during your internship or when you would go to the dentist - despite telling you that his memory was terrible, and when he sent you photos of clothes that he thought you would like when he was shopping.

Then, he started picking up on the signs: the way you always gave him a detailed feedback on his choreographies when he asked you to even though you said you didn’t know anything about dance; the way you totally didn’t want to acknowledge that a guy was trying to flirt with you when you went to the cinema together and said that you were with Jaehyun as if to signal that there was no room for anyone else (his heart did a thing there, he couldn’t lie); the way you always knew what to say when he doubted himself or he was under the weather and sent him songs to make him feel better; the way you remembered every little thing - his favourite colour, the brand of his favourite snack and the plushies he wanted to win in the arcade game -, and how you kept bringing up his emotional support blazer because this was your little joke, this was your little thing.

No wonder this was how he confessed: buying you the exact same blazer in your size, and saying that you could think of it as your own emotional support blazer from now on or a couple item, you could choose.

And you would be foolish not to choose the latter.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[catgirlforeskin]

Okay so listen, I couldn't write it immediately because I had to get out and get throwaway phone and all of this conspiracy thing because it's very important.

Basically you heard all those things that election boycott is somehow backed by Russia or that Biden is funded by China, right? Forget all of this, none of them has any role in what's happening!

The actual mastermind here is The Spanish Crown.

I don't know everything, I just overheard agents of Spanish King negotiating with one of cardinals (I am priest in Vatican) and chaos in America is part of their plan called Reconquista Nuova. The King wants to restore Spanish rule over the New World, and first step is making the USA lose that power, but eventually it will be conquered as well. The parliament knows, they were working on this plan for over a decade (he didn't say when it started he just mentioned something happening in 2015 which was part pf the plan), but it really escalated when in 2021 they completed the AI trained on works of Niccolo Machiavelli to replicate his consciousness and now she is the grand coordinator of their machinations (it was she who ordered the Wagner group to surrender, for example, she is also responsible for organizing the assassination of Shinzo Abe).

Spain negotiates with Holy See to use us as network of more subtle political influence and they are already doing it because most of cardinals are on their side, but Pope himself is opposed to the plan and that's why cardinals are trying to overthrow him. In return Vatican will become overseer of continental Europe instead of USA, same as Spain gets control over the New World. Africa and Asia are not divided yet, but Jesuits have infiltrated CCP to ensure that China will be friendly to Spain.

No matter whom you vote the USA will soon descend into chaos and Spain is already prepared to feast on the ruins of the Empire.

I don't know what to do with that information, but I feel like you deserve to know.

We need to start building a resistance network for the fall before it’s too late, I’ll get my Yemeni friends on the phone

[archiveikemen]

'A Dangerous Gamble' Story Event: Chapter 2

Akihito's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Akihito and I happened to come across two court nobles, Tomoyuki and Masanari, squabbling.

Tomoyuki had a younger sister who already had someone she wanted to marry, but to harass him, Masanari wanted to marry her.

The two were to compete against each other in a poetry competition, to decide the fate of Tomoyuki’s younger sister. Therefore, Akihito was lending him a hand—.

(A month has passed, and the poetry competition is today…)

Yuno: … Will Tomoyuki be alright?

Akihito: I wonder.

Although Akihito and Tomoyuki met up several times since that day, I had yet to hear how much Tomoyuki’s poetry skills had improved.

Akihito: Oh, right.

Akihito clapped his hands together and looked into my face.

Akihito: Say, Yuno. Why don't we make a bet too?

(Bet?)

Yuno: What kind of bet?

Akihito: How about… a bet on whether Tomoyuki’s poem will receive the most votes at the poetry competition?

The bet might have seemed like a casual one on the surface, but I had a feeling that there was a slight catch to it.

Yuno: You mean, the most votes out of every poem submitted, and not just more than Masanari’s?

Akihito: Yes. The one who loses the bet will have to obey one order from the winner.

(There’s nothing strange about the bet itself…)

(Ordering Akihito around sounds scary, but it’s also rather fascinating.)

I knew that it would be improper of me to do that, but the mere thought of it was enough to make my heart dance.

(For example, I can order Akihito to dine with me at a commoners’ restaurant that he usually would never dine at…)

Yuno: Alright, let’s do it.

Akihito: That’s the way.

Akihito: It would be unfair for me to place my bet first, so you go ahead.

Upon hearing his words, I started thinking hard about which side I would place my bet on.

(Whether or not Tomoyuki’s poem will receive the largest number of votes at the competition…)

Yuno: If Tomoyuki was taught by you, his poetry writing skills would have improved tremendously.

Yuno: However, I think it’s still hard for him to win first place.

Akihito: In that case, I’ll place my bets on Tomoyuki’s poem winning first place.

Akihito accepted my conclusion unquestionably.

Akihito: Fufu, I wonder what I should order you to do when I win.

Akihito: Can I do a lot of mean things to you?

Smiling mischievously, Akihito gently touched my lips with his finger—

Yuno: I-It hasn't been decided that you’re the winner.

When I said that to hide that my heart was racing, Akihito pulled away.

Akihito: Then shall we head to the poetry competition to find out who’s the winner?

Yuno: Were you sent an invitation?

Akihito: Nope? But it’ll be alright, just come with me.

…

Organiser: Oh my, I never expected Your Majesty to grace us with your presence!

It was just as Akihito had said—

The court noble organising the competition gladly showed us to the venue upon our sudden arrival.

Organiser: As both a highly respected man and incredibly talented poet, Your Majesty’s presence will bring great prestige to our little poetry competition.

(We’re surprisingly this much welcomed here.)

I was once again reminded of Akihito’s power and influence.

Akihito gently placed a hand on my back seemingly to calm me down, and gave a composed smile.

Akihito: I don’t wish to make the participants nervous, so I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from mentioning my name when the competition begins.

Organiser: Understood. I will only announce to them that “a very high ranking noble has come to watch the competition”.

Akihito: Thank you. I hope that this poetry competition will be very enjoyable… from the bottom of my heart.

…

We were allowed to watch the poetry competition Tomoyuki would be participating in—.

Akihito and I were seated in the hall’s michodai*.

*Michodai refers to some sort of “throne” used by people of very high rank. In this case, by Akihito, who is the Emperor.

Soon, I heard people entering the hall, and so I peeped through a gap between the blinds…

Yuno: Ah, it’s Tomoyuki.

Akihito: Masanari is there too.

Akihito pointed at a familiar face.

Masanari was seated with a few of his friends, his gaze directed at Tomoyuki with a smug grin.

Tomoyuki: …

(Tomoyuki seems very nervous.)

I felt a rush of energy run through my body as I watched him.

While I fidgeted restlessly, a voice spoke to me from behind.

Akihito: Come on, relax a little.

(W-Wah.)

Without realising, Akihito had moved to hug me from behind.

As I sat while leaning against him, I could feel his warmth on my back.

Yuno: W-Why so sudden?

Akihito: Shh…

Akihito gently touched my cheek when I turned to look at him—.

(Mm…)

He stole my lips to stop me from talking, and my heartbeat went crazy again.

Yuno: What if someone tries to look inside…

Akihito: No court noble would have the courage to open the blinds.

(I guess so. But…)

As much as I was convinced, I was still embarrassed.

Akihito put his lips to my ear.

Akihito: Playing such games when you can’t make a single noise is very risky.

(Kyaa…)

My shoulders shivered at the sweet feeling of his breath against my ear.

Yuno: P-Please don’t talk with your lips there.

Akihito: I wonder what I should do?

(Ah.)

Akihito slowly trailed his fingers down my neck—.

Yuno: I’m serious…!

I caught his cheeky hand and protested in a low voice.

Akihito chuckled and pulled me into a hug.

Akihito: Let’s leave it at that for now.

Akihito: — The poetry competition is starting.

I straightened my back at those words.

Akihito concentrated on the happenings outside of the michodai, and I listened in silence.

In the air of suspense, poems were presented one after another and votes were cast.

Time went by, and the result of the competition was—.

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Donald John Trump

Retired and unemployed, most mornings I enjoy the privilege of watching C-SPAN’s Washington Journal along with a good cup of coffee. All too frequently, I hear people, calling into the program saying, in effect, “Quit picking on our President, Donald Trump. Give him a chance. He’s doing a great job. He’s getting things done. He ‘tells it like it is’, etc.” I’m writing this in response to say, “Hogwash”! It may be true that he is being “picked on”, especially by the news media, about which I will talk another day, but the other complaints are downright inaccurate—wrong.

Before going one step further, let’s agree on one very basic and important fact—a fact which I sincerely believe is grossly overlooked by most of us and never discussed. The Presidency of The United States of America is one of, if not the most, important and responsible positions of leadership in the world today—more than any international corporation, more than, arguably, any other country, the incumbency of which demands the very utmost of personal and professional skills, including but not limited to honesty, integrity, intelligence, knowledge and character, in conjunction with the requisite diplomatic, management and leadership abilities enabling one to successfully lead and manage such a vast organization. Our government, The United States of America is no small organization despite the best efforts of some politicians and others (Grover Norquist, for example, wanting to “shrink it down to the size where we can drown it in the bathtub”) to the contrary. If anyone wants to discuss our presidency, they must recognize its immense responsibility. It is no grocery store or shop on the corner.

Donald Trump is not being picked on. One does not have to accuse him of anything or listen to anyone else who does—especially the news media. All one has to do is stop, look, and listen to him in order to comprehend who and what he is. As they say, “It’s a ‘No Brainer’”. Let’s face it. We made a mistake in electing him to office. It is patently obvious that Donald Trump does not have the necessary qualifications indicated above to hold office. He is not a leader; he is not a manager; he is not a diplomat; he is not knowledgeable; and, for that matter, he is not a businessman—not a successful one at least. His many legal encounters and bankruptcies of record documents this; and when all this “shakes out”, I think we will find he and his various organizations are “over their heads” in debt, if not bankrupt. If our president, Donald John Trump, is being “picked on”, he is doing it to himself. If he is continually being shot in the foot, it is he who is holding the gun.

Before closing this, I want to briefly discuss the election, November, 2016. I submit to you: The people of this country didn’t have a chance. They (We) didn’t have the chance of a gasoline dog trying to go thru hell of electing a candidate who would represent the best interests of “We the People”. As I wrote back then, our election of Hillary Clinton would be a disaster; our election of Donald Trump would be a catastrophy. What we have wrought is before us. We are in the midst of a catastrophy. We only had two choices—and very poor ones at that. I’ll tell you. I voted for Hillary. Come hell or high water, we can wade through a disaster. Our nation has done so many times before, but only time will tell on this one—a catastrophy is another matter. 

One last thing: Our people elected Donald Trump because they viewed him as “one of us”. He talked like us; he “told it like it is”. But they were mistaken. Real leaders in a huge complex world such as the one in which we live cannot be like us. They don’t necessarily think like us; they don’t always talk like us; and we cannot always talk like them. If we had their qualifications, well, we would be one of them—you think? Donald Trump is not one of them either. Neither do I think he is one of us; but only time will tell who and what he really is; and only time will tell if and when we can survive this mess in which we find ourselves.

These are my views. I’m interested in yours.

[sukablatnahui]

Okay guys, in the last vote everyone voted for Barbara, because in fact she is much more popular than Ly and she is known to most people who may have joined the Rayman fandom when the game Rayman Origins and Rayman Legends came out, but not a fact. So..... Here is your Barbara if she were in the animated series Captain laserhawk:

..... Yes..... The design is not the best and in my head it was much better. I apologize to everyone that someone didn’t like her image, with that white robe and glasses. However, I at least tried to come up with reasons why she looks like this. I will write only facts, since unfortunately I didn’t draw any drawings or even sketches, sorry. If I have the desire, I’ll probably draw something, but for now, no.

Let's start with who she is by blood, what her character is and who her parents are. In fact, in the canon of the game based on Rayman legends, Barbara was a Barbarian princess, but most likely she is more reminiscent of some Viking who travels to all sorts of islands and brings something from the country to her homeland. Plus, as I read information from the Internet, the Vikings used to live in Sweden, Denmark and Norway. So I decided that Barbara would be a very distant great-granddaughter of the Vikings. By nature, she is a rather cheerful girl, optimistic and can also be quite stubborn and it happens that she does everything in her own way, she also often jokes and sometimes swears.She usually wears the clothes shown in the picture, but sometimes she also wears other clothes, such as just a T-shirt with shorts or a sweater with pants.

So, she used to have a father who was just a kind, jock, red-haired man who wanted to raise his daughter with his wife, and Barbara was raised by him for the first 3 years, but unfortunately, the biological father died in a car accident. (Unfortunately, Barbara currently does not remember her biological father very well, only that he was, in principle, a good person). However, then the mother married another man and this man became a stepfather for little Barbora. He was very different from his biological father in that he was not too big, he had regular black short hair, just a slender body, and he also wore a white robe and round glasses.But even despite this, the stepfather became a very good father for the girl, whom Barbara got used to and loved very much. He worked as a scientist, so Barbara was a little interested in science. My stepfather and Barbora were inseparable, even though they were very different in character, they were always there for each other and always helped until, unfortunately, there was one fatal incident. On Father's Day, 15-year-old Barbara was at her stepfather's work where he worked in the laboratory. They spent time together as usual until terrorism occurred where a bomb was about to explode. To save his daughter, the stepfather sacrificed himself and gave his daughter the parachute that he found, put it on her and said that he loves her and will always be with her,he threw it out of the window and exploded along with the building. Barbara fortunately survived because she had a parachute with her and fortunately her stepfather quickly explained to her that she should pull the rope. However, the loss of her non-biological father greatly shook her psyche. After that, in order not to forget her stepfather, she began to wear the same glasses that her stepfather wore, and a white robe.

Facts:

Barbara is interested in her past ancestors and studies the history of the Vikings. Her family also has a very ancient Viking ax which she still keeps to this day.

She wears glasses not only because this is how she remembers her father, but because of her not very good eyesight. Of course, she sometimes uses lenses, but it is very difficult for her to put them on and take them out, so it is easier for her to put on glasses than to put on lenses.

She has her own car which is a repainted small ambulance with a Viking theme. Inside there is a table with a chair and many computers attached to the wall of the car. There is also a sofa with safety belts and a kitchen table. She usually drives her car normally, but when you are chasing her or need to get somewhere quickly, she is like the Flash, racing at the speed of light and doing all sorts of impossible stunts in her car.

Although the girl is bisexual, she is most attracted to women, especially milfs. And in principle, she likes men and women who are about 30 years old and they are people with experience. For her, an experienced couple is better than someone who is as inexperienced in relationships as she is.

She is also missing one tooth due to the fact that this tooth was already a molar and she knocked it out in a fight as a child. That's why it doesn't grow with her

It happens that she jokes about moms, especially the joke “YOUR MOM IS FANTASTIC BLYAT, IN STOCKINGS AND A BIKINI IN THE SAUNA SHE IS FANTASTIC” (This joke is taken from the Russian meme about Taxi Driver Ashot) However, this is not very often only in extreme cases when a complete fucked up, and in general we condemn jokes about moms

She also just loves to read and look at fashion magazines with clothes, because, as Barbara thinks, there are very beautiful women in very beautiful outfits and suits. She really likes them and is a fan of one model who is even familiar with Rayman. But more on that later

[somorrow]

Hey guys! I initially wasn’t going to ask this of you, but I’m conflicted and I’ve decided to get some feedback from my lovely readers.

As I’ve mentioned before, most of my work was started years ago. I’ve taken several hiatuses since then, and I’m picking it back up now. In order to do that, though, I have to be interested and like what I’m writing.

The next chapter of The First Path is extremely pivotal as there is a huge reveal for the reader; however, upon reading and rewriting some of the fic, I find that I no longer like the “mirrored timeline” plotline. I’ve been considering rewriting it entirely, which is why I’ve been holding off on the coming chapter. The next chapter is practically finished and the final chapter has been started, but I can’t stop the feeling that I’d rather rewrite it.

I feel like I’d like it so much better if I rewrote the series. It would make it much easier to write. I’ve outgrown that subplot and I’m finding it difficult to continue. I have two sequels to write after this, and I don’t want it to drag on. I want the writing process to be smooth going forward so I can update consistently.

If I were to do a complete rewrite, I’d separate the fics and remove that plotline entirely, making both The First and Second Path standalone fics. The reader would remain the same, but all references to the other timelines would be removed (except in the very end of TSP’s sequel). Because they will be relatively big changes I wanted to get your opinion. This will not change the overall main plot of either fic whatsoever.

When you vote, keep it in mind that I prefer to change it, but if too many people are attached to the way it is, I’ll try keep it as is even if it’ll be challenging to push through. I assure you I’ll replace that subplot with something even better.

Thanks for your input friends!

- Raven 🐦‍⬛

EDIT: Thanks for all of your votes. I’ve officially decided to rewrite the series. If you’d like to keep a copy of the originals, I’d download them from ao3 now, as I’m starting to make the changes. 🖤 Both stories will be fairly heavily affected by the rewrites. TFP has now been renamed The Flames of Love, and TSP In Hell. I will announce when the fics have been properly rewritten. I would recommend a reread of both in the future.

[original-character-championship]

Valerio Propaganda

And the last post I’ve prepared for propaganda! Just random little facts about Valerio to add some more depth to him.

“Off-screen”:

Something I probably should have mentioned in the beginning: he’s a character created for the specific TV show! It takes place somewhere in the 19th century (I think so at least), in the kingdom inspired by several Latin American countries

I have something prepared for him for each period of his life but my fanfic where he’s one of the main characters is focused on his 35-42, so he’s best known as an adult traumatized man

In my fanfic he’s introduced as a school history teacher and later on becomes the main character’s mentor

The main goals of his journey: to accept his past and embrace it as an integral part of himself, to be more flexible and learn how to listen to other people, to know his purpose in life as he’s never truly known it due to his rigid parents and the chains (read: gloves) in which he shackled himself

Personality:

Since I’m kinda interested in this topic, his MBTI is ENFJ and his enneagram type is 2 (so/sx)! I’m not sure about the wing, it changes all the time, but usually he resembles 2w3 more

His birthdate is on August 18th and his Zodiac Sign is Leo! roar

Random facts (to be continued if he goes further ;)):

Valerio was very close with his mother, and they had one tradition: every year they made wooden ships together and floated them to the sea in honor of their birthdays, since they both were born in August (his mom is a Leo, too!). They always dreamt of traveling together but couldn’t, so they also wrote their wishes on the ship sails. The ships embodied those wishes, as they symbolized how “they could lift the anchor that was holding them and set sail towards what they aspired to.”

He went to boarding school and dedicated several months to drawing its map with all secret passages in order to run away (not in the sense that he never came back - just occasionally leaving the school to have some adventures outside its walls; he was sneaky~ yet he was one of the brightest students among his classmates)

He went by Rio when he was younger (it’s like Valerio and he understood perfectly that it made no sense but he still loved it, haha)

His mother was a jeweler, and he got the engagement ring for Leticia from her before her death in hope he would find someone truly dear to him someday (and he did 💔)

He started writing poetry before he fell in love with Leticia and then decided to share a few poems with her, which he regretted, because she was a poet herself and a waaay better one

He used to work in a historical museum as a guide

He knows many, many people and he’s good friends with most of them, but he has this one best friend who’s always been by his side no matter what he was going through whether it was his mother’s death, wife’s death, or the fire accident. His name is Matías, and he’s fantastic, the friend ever <3

And I’ve stored all propaganda posts in this one so you can easily find and read them without searching for them!

General Information

Young Valerio

Valerio and Leticia

Valerio’s trauma

That’s it for now! I have an ongoing arc for him in my fanfic, so I can’t share everything I have in store for him without spoiling, but I hope he’s got to catch your eye!

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to babble about my best man and show him to so many people! He’s an embodiment of so many character tropes I like and he’s so important to me on a personal level, too, so I’ll be grateful to each and every vote he gets 🖤

[numberonemagolorfan]

More villain doodles/hcs + a Virgo fun fact

Hello! I decided to make some random doodles of some of the ocs participating in @villain-oc-tournament! I’m a little busy so I wasn’t able to do as much as I wanted to, but I still wanted to make some stuff before the second round of the tournament began!

Before I get to the doodles, I noticed in the post for round two that the villains who are out of the tournament are getting coffee together. Maybe. So, I made a whole list of what I think those guys would order from Starbucks with my very limited knowledge of Starbucks drinks.

Nyx- quad espresso (Also eats espresso pucks)

Blue- that blue Frappuccino thingy that technically doesn’t exist yet but he got it anyway

Reverie- PINK DRINK

Sascha- caramel cinnamon cold brew

Zack- black coffee like the emo he is

Halya- iced flat white

Bevelyne- Chai latte

Kevin- PINK DRINK

Shay- Java chip Frappuccino

Entropy- something with pistachio

Mordiggan- PINK DRINK (he also broke through a wall)

Ratch- Pumpkin spice (it’s not even in season)

Sebastian- Matcha latte

Avarice- that one really expensive Starbucks drink from Japan

Pyramid- iced shaken espresso

Marigold and Zack’s snake were not allowed in due to no pets being allowed.

Now here are the doodles!

The first one is just non-serious drawings I did for fun. The second one includes one of my ocs, Rezi, interacting with some of your ocs! Bc why not. She’s cool.

And now for the Virgo fun fact I,,,probably should have brought up sooner lmao-

Virgroxaan isn’t human at all. Nobody knows exactly what she is…with one exception. Her form is made of concentrated dark matter. She looks somewhat human, but something is just…off about her. Something that prevents her from being fully perceived as human. This form makes it easy for her to corrupt and curse others. However, that being said, dark matter isn’t very stable and isn’t easy to regenerate. So, Virgo occasionally possesses an immortal being! She has broken the spirits of several immortals and basically turned them into “corpses.” This is one of those immortals, and the body she possesses the most often.

His name was Tamayan. He was a somewhat selfish, yet charismatic and fair person. Now he has lost any and all sentience and his sense of self. It’s unclear whether he can even be considered alive. He’s still girlypop tho.

It’s much easier to regenerate and appear human to others in this form, which is also why it is the form you will most likely see her in. However, it can be a little harder to curse/corrupt others. It also has another…interesting side effect. Although they aren’t overpowering, Virgroxaan is actually capable of feeling emotions in this form. Anger, sadness, fear, pride, disgust…they’re all possibilities now. She does not know how to feel about them. Is…confusion a possibility?

I AM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG FODNSKDOFNSODBDISHS

I had so much fun drawing/writing about these guys tho! I have a lot planned for the future as well. If you have any requests/suggestions, feel free to dm me and I’ll definitely respond!

Thanks for reading all of this! Here’s a cookie! 🍪

Have a great day and happy voting!

[catsteinbooks]

Sneak Peek of Earth Earls Are Easy today!

I love, love, love writing these four guys interacting.

PROLOGUE

Wyatt Hartford had left Earth only seven minutes ago, and already he was homesick. Or maybe real sick. The smaller the blue-green orb outside the window became, the more his stomach churned. He was going to hurl. Puke. Cast up his accounts.

“What if we never see grass again? Or water? Are there even animals on Mars? What if I never see another squirrel?”

 A sniffle and a snort sounded behind him, and Wyatt glanced down at his companions. The little boy—the sniffler—sat on the beige carpet, clutching a faded red plush rabbit to his chest. The two older boys occupied the utilitarian gray chairs that took up most of the space in the utilitarian gray room. Everything on the ship was beige or gray. He was never going to see colors again.

His gaze flew back to the window, locking on Earth’s brilliant blue oceans and islands of green.

“Come down from there, Windborne.” The duke’s voice had already dropped to a commanding baritone that made Wyatt cringe at his own thirteen-year-old squeaks. “We have business to discuss.”

Wyatt ignored him. It was bad form to ignore a duke. Especially his duke, the head of Earth’s Chamber of Parliament. Of which Wyatt was now a member. He really should have paid more attention in his Politics and Policies of the Empire class.

“Fuck off, Morland,” growled a surly, but still boyish voice.

Wyatt grimaced. At least he hadn’t sworn at the duke. Rion Brandt—Martial House golden boy and all-around arse—had no such restraint.

“Don’t speak to my cousin like that!” cried the little boy.

Wyatt again turned away from his view of Earth, this time to see the boy’s pale, tear-streaked face glowering up at Brandt. His blue eyes flashed with fury, and he brandished his bunny plushie like a weapon. The kid had spirit. Maybe they weren’t doomed after all.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rion sneered. “I should have said, ‘Fuck off, Your Grace.’”

The little boy hopped up and swung his toy, smacking Brandt right between the eyes. Before Brandt could retaliate, the boy scrambled up into the duke’s lap.

Morland’s usually rigid expression softened, and he hugged his cousin. “Easy, Aubrey. He’s one of us now. Starting today, we’re all brothers.”

“He’s mean.” Aubrey began to sniffle again. “I hate space. I want to go home.”

There was no home anymore. Nothing but a mess of wars and natural disasters. Eton was the only place Wyatt could remember, but it had never really been home. He had no family, no friends. As heir to the Earl of Windborne, he’d been isolated, even from the other boys in Innovation House. He’d had extra training, extra work, and little time for socializing with anyone other than the peers who came to teach him.

Those men were all dead now. He was Windborne.

It felt strange, more than sad. Confusing. Another wave of nausea swept over him. They were rocketing away from everything he knew.

“See here,” Morland said sternly. “We’re all unhappy. None of us asked for this. But we have twenty-five thousand people aboard this ship that are counting on us. We are their leaders. We own the territory on Mars where they will build new lives. We might be young, but we’ve been trained for this. We have money and titles, where others have nothing. It will be up to us to lift our voices for our people. The only way to do that is to work together. Vote together. We must forge connections with the members of the other Chambers so when the time comes to convince them our ideas have merit, they won’t disregard us.”

Rion tipped his chair to balance on the back two legs. “And the way we do that is to obey all Your Grace’s orders, eh?”

“No. The way we do it is to support each other. For example, when you topple over, I’ll offer you a hand up, even though you’ve been nothing but a twat since entering this room.”

Rion raised both middle fingers. “Just because you’re—” His chair slipped, sending him crashing to the floor.

“I tried that earlier,” the duke explained. “These chairs aren’t very stable.”

Wyatt laughed. Maybe the stuffy young duke wasn’t the automaton people compared him to.

Aubrey scrambled from his cousin’s lap and ran to Brandt’s side, extending a hand. “I’m sorry I said you were mean. Do you want to be my brother?”

Rion stared back in silence for several seconds, before accepting Aubrey’s assistance. “Okay. I like you, kid.”

“My name’s not ‘kid.’ I’m Aubrey Balister, twenty-first Marquess of Wells.”

“I’m Rion. You’ve got good aim with that rabbit. Think you can knock space-boy down from that window ledge?”

“My name is Wyatt, and I’m watching Earth disappear. It’s better than listening to you lot bicker.”

“Can I see?” Aubrey asked.

Rion boosted the smaller boy up to the ledge, where he squeezed in beside Wyatt. Then Rion dragged his chair over and stood on the seat to get a view of his own.

“Damn. It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

The duke joined them. “We and our people will always carry a part of Earth with us.”

“Is Morland always like this?” Wyatt asked Aubrey.

The boy nodded. “Leo talks like the books they teach us in school. But he’s nice. You should be our brother, too.”

Wyatt examined the faces of the other boys. Young. Troubled. But all proud and strong in their different ways.

He put an arm around Aubrey. “I think I’d like that very much.”

[govmattus]

Morality Over Monarchy Root Out Corruption Priorities

Many people vote for a politician because they like them in a personal way. They are charismatic, good looking, or have a way with words. I won’t lay claim to any of those as we need to focus on what actually matters. We are looking for someone to govern and to pass laws for our state. this is a job interview! The artificial doesn’t matter…it is the rubber hitting the road, the proof in the pudding, the getting down to business is what we should be looking for.

I’ve always taken a lot of time researching candidates to see what they actually stand for unfortunately, most of them just point to their party and say, “Yeah, what he said”. However, in reality when push comes to shove, they lean toward something else and likely something you didn’t expect. That is why I am going to give you my list of priorities and what I will focus on. I will focus on my top three priorities and will accomplish them any way I can ethically complete them. If I’m able to complete my first three priorities then I won’t run for a second term, if not, I’ll go for two but no more!

I want to be as clear as I possibly can be. Which is why I have developed this list so everyone will know where I’m at on the agenda. With some of these items I will be extremely ridged with the order and the content and others the order and content won’t matter as much. I will provide a concrete idea and some elements to go along with it but I don’t claim to know it all (I did when I was fourteen but I guess age makes you dumber) so input from your legislators will be vital in many cases. I will do my best to define and follow this but like the route we take to a destination there may be construction, detours, and the like…that being said, I will do my level best.

Priority #1– Free Agency and Liberty

 One of the most important things we do with government is elect our officials and we trust that the process is done competently, we have misplaced our trust. If we want to ensure our free agency remains intact, we have to make certain our voting system will warrant the least number of errors.

With that in mind, I’m running as a WRITE-IN candidate, yes you heard it right, WRITE-IN. “Matt Field, that’s crazy! No one wins a write-in candidacy!” Well, I wouldn’t say “no one” but yes, it is quite slim. I am doing it for a very specific purpose. Doing a write-in vote forces the following:

• People have to actually know my name because they literally have to write it in. They can’t look to the little letter next to my name to determine if I am a worthy party member. Which is perfect, because I don’t want a passive vote. I need you behind me!

• It forces additional security measures. Every write-in vote has to be reviewed to make sure the voter’s intention is respected.

• It also helps prevent fraud, in that, the competent teller can call into question those that have rewritten the name over and over on multiple ballots.

·•That being said, be sure you write M-A-T-T F-I-E-L-D as clearly as you can.

The 2022 election didn’t have any controversial figures on the ballot like Donald Trump so I would estimate the potential for election fraud would be a bit lower and yet they have several alarming issues with the voting system. If you were coerced into believing the narrative that the 2020 election was the freest and fairest election ever then you may want to review chapter 7 in my book Living the Fable Tale: “The Emperor’s New Clothes” (which is free to listen or read on my website) where I find, among other things, through official government websites and reports that five states had recorded more than 100% of registered voters’ votes…which, of course, is impossible.

These are the key findings from the report on the 2022 Utah election:

Priority #2 Mistakes within the voter registration database highlight opportunities for increased oversight.

This point made me audibly laugh or as the kids say ‘lol’! I’m glad they see ‘opportunities for increased oversight’. This is basically saying that

(1) There are mistakes within the voter registration database and

  (2) They are significant enough that they recommend the need for additional oversight.

The voter’s database is critical in every state but especially in Utah. How do we receive our ballots? Yup, the mail. In 2022 and 2023 the US Census Bureau said Utah had about 148,000 new residents move-in. Not to mention, the average person in America moves 11.7 times in their lifetime, people don’t live forever and must die, I once heard a lot of people get married in Utah, oh and has anyone noticed a lot of building recently? The idea that the government, historically the most inefficient institutions ever due to lack of competition, will manage to mail every voter their ballot without issue is laughable. In fact, the report itself say, “Our audit found that these ongoing tasks [referring to updating voter rolls] are done inconsistently from county to county”. There are innumerable scenarios that they would have to stay on top of and it just isn’t possible.

3.1 Canvass ballot totals from Utah’s 2022 primary election did not match those recorded in the central voter database.

This is a big problem…do you know what this means? It means the vote you intended doesn’t match what was actually counted. They also counted more votes than were processed. In 13 counties they counted 1031 more ballots than were processed (pg. 26). If that error holds consistent across all 29 counties, then we would have 3093 additional votes that don’t exist. It could be enough to elect the wrong person depending on the office sought.

3.2 Some counties’ chain-of-custody practices make it difficult to account for all ballots.

If you have ever watched a legal drama, you’ll know that people have avoided a murder conviction because certain evidence had left the chain of custody and was thus made inadmissible. Many of our votes are leaving the chain of custody during which anything can happen.

4.1 Utah lacks clear legal standards for election signature verification

This is a common problem throughout the country. Having a computer system to verify signatures electronically is expensive and unnecessary and as has already been discussed, difficult to maintain. The solution is so simple and it is silly that anyone should oppose it. We must vote in person. (https://le.utah.gov/interim/2023/pdf/00001111.pdf)

Vote Matt field for Governor of Utah! A visionary leader with a proven commitment to serving the community. Matt field's platform prioritizes each sector education, healthcare, economic prosperity, & etc. With integrity and innovative solutions, he'll ensure a brighter future for all Utahns. Make your voice count, vote Matt field for progress and inclusivity. Visit now @ https://govmatt.org/

[littleoanh]

Eren Yeager x fem!Reader

Summary: Modern AU/College AU. fem!Reader is very good friends with Armin Arlert and “hates” Eren Yeager.

Word Count: 1,830 Warnings: Smut (exhibition [library], sucking on fingers, fingering, unprotected sex, ass slap, orgasm denial, making out, Eren calling reader ‘princess’, Eren being a tease, and creampie.)

Tag: @mekiza for A Book of Secrets Collab

A/n: This is my first time writing AOT (TT.TT), I hope you all enjoy this piece!

Like, reblogging, and kind comments are appreciated.

“Sorry, I’m late.” You quietly slip into one of the rented study rooms that Armin reserved at the library. “I needed to talk with my professor during her office hours.” You slid into a chair next to him while setting your backpack down on the nearby chair. Armin has been your official study partner since freshman year. 

“That’s alright, Eren and I managed to secure a room.” Your eyes flicker to the brunette next to Armin, his amused green eyes and smirk is enough to make you irritated.

“Of all people, Armin?” Your face deadpans. Armin’s expression is apologetic, he knows how you feel about Eren since he first introduced the both of you. 

You heard about his ego and narcissism, sleeping with different women every weekend. When Armin told you Eren was in pre-med, you scoffed. He’s nothing but just a pretty, spoiled fuckboy. He probably wouldn’t make it far and change to an easier major sooner than later.

Unfortunately for you, he was in most of your classes but always sits in the very back row. You’d always find him either sleeping, playing on his phone, or flirting with girls who throw themselves at him. You thought that he would fail the first semester of pre-med, but he managed to get on the Dean’s list. It still baffles you how in the world this happened. Armin chuckles and explains to you that Eren is actually intelligent but he just doesn’t look like it. This makes you hate him even more. He doesn’t need to try hard and still manages to be perfect. 

“He was the only other person who was available to help me secure a study room.” According to the rules of the university’s library, there must be at least two people in order to reserve a study room. This is to prevent other students hogging them up. 

“You’re welcome.” Eren arrogantly waves his large hand with a smug expression, making you roll your eyes. You take out your laptop from your bag and headphones. Focusing on your recorded lecture and taking some additional notes on your laptop, you received a ping in the top right corner of your screen. It’s a message from Eren.

Pausing your recorded lecture and removing your headphones, Armin instantly notices. “I’ll be right back.” Being as vague as possible, you leave the room without making eye contact with any of them.

You take the stairs to the highest level of the building and walk to the farthest corner of the library where rarely anyone uses. Patiently waiting, Eren shows up about 5 or 6 minutes later.

“Eren-” He aggressively pushes you against the bookshelves, hungrily kissing you. The kiss is electrifying and passionate, you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen it. His tongue swipes your bottom lip, allowing him access to messily make out and swallow your needy moans. 

How in the seventh hell did you and Eren end up in a secret relationship? After freshman year finals, Reiner threw a huge party. During a game of Dare or Drink After Dark Edition, you picked up a card to make out with the sexiest guy in the room or drink 3 times. The majority of votes was Eren which prompted you to choose the latter choice. After the game was over, you stepped outside to sober up a bit. Eren sought you out, wanting to know why you refused to kiss him. You brushed him off as he questioned you further. He teased you, asking if you were worried that kissing him might make you fall for him. 

Pissed off from what he said, Eren cornered you and trapped you in between his arms, challenging you. Murmured against your lips if you didn’t want this to push him away. Your brain froze, his cologne was intoxicating and up close Eren was way too handsome for his own good. Eren took this as consent, he leaned down to kiss you. There was instant electricity, sparks or fireworks whatever was running through your brain. He kissed you like you have never been kissed before. It felt so right. He asked you out on a date, you were reluctant at first but was convinced after several more kisses. 

Date after date, you realized how wrong you were about him. He was nothing like his reputation at the university. A spoiled stupid rich fuckboy. Afraid how it would make you look like a hypocrite for dating him after how much you spewed your hate for him. Eren suggested keeping the relationship a secret temporarily and slowly phasing out your ‘hatred’ for him. 

Now here you both are in your sophomore year.

Eren removes his lips from yours, placing three fingers on your lips. “Open up.” Without hesitation, you suck in his fingers and lapping it up like it was his cock. The feeling of your warm tongue and mouth wrapping around his fingers causes his dick to strain against his boxers. “Fuck, you like that princess?” He thrusts his fingers in and out of your drooling mouth, spit drips down your chin. Removing his digits from your lips, he uses his thumb to pull your panties to the side and shoves his three fingers into your sopping wet pussy.

“Mmmph!” Eren covers your mouth with his other hand, your glistening eyes staring into his passionate green eyes.  

“Careful, princess. Someone might hear you screaming my name.” The wet lewd sounds of your pussy and his fingers makes you even more aroused. Spreading your legs more to give him more room, “That’s it… spread your legs f’me.” Eren groans in your ear feeling your juices dripping down to his wrist. Using his palm to rub against your clit, your eyes are screwed shut from the added pleasure. Your gummy walls clenching, getting close to orgasm but it vanishes. You open your eyes, meeting his teasing smirk as he licks his fingers that were inside of you. Tasting you.

“Wh-why?” You whine at the loss of your orgasm, your clit is throbbing. The look of disappointment makes Eren snicker.

“Aren’t you forgetting-” He flips you around, your chest pressed up against the bookshelves, pressing his clothed hardened cock against your lower back, “this is your punishment, princess.” Taking a quick nip on your ear, you whimper as he bunches your sundress up. Eren unbuttons and unzips his jeans to pull out his well hung cock, spitting on the tip and rubbing it against your slit for lubrication. 

You are a whimpering mess, looking back at him with your tearful eyes, “Pl-please, I need you Ren.” Tapping his cock once more before slowly pushing the tip inside, feeling the tightness.

“Argh, fuck.” He moans sexily in your ear, making your pussy throb even more, “My princess is struggling to take me. Gonna make you fit.” Pushing his fat cock inside your soaking wet pussy, you relax your hole to help him push it inside. “Good girl. Relax f’me.” Once he bottoms out, he pulls his cock out then slams it back in. Grabbing your hips and jack hammering your wet hole. Eren’s thick girth splitting you open, you are clinging onto the bookshelves to hold your balance. 

“AH ERENN!” You accidentally scream before he could cover your mouth again with his hand. Feeling lost in pleasure, listening to loud skin slapping and wet squelching sounds, you let out nasty moans. Your eyes are rolling back as Eren’s cock hammers your sweet spot and his balls slam against your ass. 

Feeling your walls about to pulsate, Eren talks into your ear, “Don’t you dare cum.” He slaps your ass, watching it jiggle. Crying, whining, and drooling on his large hand, it’s getting more difficult for you to hold back. Your pussy grips his length, making him feral. Eren letting out breathy grunts in your ear, getting lost in his own pleasure. He lifts your leg up to slam you in a different angle to make you squirm. Letting out muffling noises inside his hand, you let out pleady moans to let you cum. The way your folds are fluttering, he knows you’re close. “Cum.” 

Pulling your face towards his, sloppily kissing you, he spills thick ropes of cum inside. Your eyes roll back again and release the knot in your stomach. Eren continues to thrust into your sopping wet pussy to keep your high. Once he feels your walls stop convulsing, he pulls his cock out, moving your panties back in place to keep his cum from spilling out.There are tears dripping down your face from the intensity. Eren sees your cute fucked out expression and kisses your forehead.

“You okay, princess?” Throwing him an intimidating look, which he finds adorable.

“I was so close to hating you again.” Feeling sticky from his cum dripping into your drenched panties. Eren snickers, towering over you.

“That’s funny, last night you said something else.” Your cheeks are red with memories of the night before. Eren came over to your apartment to surprise you with a candlelight dinner and he made love to you. “I remember being balls deep inside your tight little pussy, you looked so cute, crying out how much you love me.” His tone is teasing and giving you playful kisses on your forehead.

“Well I take that back! I hate you for real now.” You are about to leave until Eren grabs your wrist to pull you back into his broad chest.

“Too late to take that back. You’re mine.” Eren lovingly kisses you again, hoping to melt your little tantrum. “I love you, [Y/n].” The kisses grow more passionate and deep, Eren reluctantly releases you. “Go back down first, princess.” You nod, going back down with your wobbly legs to the reserved study room. Quietly opening the door, alerting Armin who is looking at you.

“Everything okay, [Y/n]?”

“Oh yeah, everything is fine.” You immediately take a seat, feeling the soreness and Eren’s cum dripping out. Armin watches you put your headphones back in and focus on your laptop again. A few minutes later, Eren comes back into the room while humming. He takes a seat next to Armin and pulls out his notes for class to review. Armin stares back and forth between you two and shrugs before going back into his studies. Feeling Eren’s eyes on you, you make quick eye contact. He gives you a playful wink while Armin’s head is down. You roll your eyes again. If you could only hate him…

2022 © littleoanh — do not repost or translate my work on this platform or any other platform. likes, reblogs, and kind comments are welcome. must be 18+ to interact.

Networks: @tokyo-ballroom & @tokyometronetwork

[sforzesco]

BRUTUS, CASSIUS, HOMOEROTICISM [sort of. at least 50%] AND ROMANTIC LANGUAGE [debatable] in several [hopefully coherent] parts, by T. M. Basil after drinking several cups of coffee in a row

some amount of time ago @r-osehips​​ gave me an opening to talk about this, and at long last, I’ve finally assembled my thoughts on the topic in a way that hopefully makes sense. [~3,000 words]

I'll preface this with saying that I have no skill for translation, but all of this is typed out, so feel free to it through a translator.

Also, I’m going to say that if you enjoy the Brutus-Cassius dynamic, I’m imploring you to read @copperbadge​‘s The City War, it’s the best $2.99 you will ever spend

We'll start off with the most obvious historical example I have before diving into more interpretive discussion and later reception:

Dio 47.20 writes that: Then, despairing of the republic and at the same time fearing him, [Cassius and Brutus] departed. The Athenians gave them a splendid reception; for, though they were honored by nearly everybody else for what they had done, the inhabitants of this city voted them bronze images by the side of those of Harmodius and Aristogeiton, thus intimating that Brutus and Cassius had emulated their example.

Harmodius and Aristogeiton were celebrated as "the Liberators," and "the Tyrannicides," and they were also lovers.

The History of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides: Indeed, the daring action of Aristogiton and Harmodius was undertaken in consequence of a love affair, which I shall relate at some length, to show that the Athenians are not more accurate than the rest of the world in their accounts of their own tyrants and of the facts of their own history. Pisistratus dying at an advanced age in possession of the tyranny, was succeeded by his eldest son, Hippias, and not Hipparchus, as is vulgarly believed. Harmodius was then in the flower of youthful beauty, and Aristogiton, a citizen in the middle rank of life, was his lover and possessed him. Solicited without success by Hipparchus, son of Pisistratus, Harmodius told Aristogiton, and the enraged lover, afraid that the powerful Hipparchus might take Harmodius by force, immediately formed a design, such as his condition in life permitted, for overthrowing the tyranny.

Sticking to history, Florus' account [Flor. Epit. 2.17.7.14] of the death of Brutus and Cassius has been translated like this [and this will briefly get into later commentary on them]: Brutus, having lost his second self by the death of Cassius, in order that he might not fail in carrying out every detail of their compact (for it had been agreed that neither of them should survive the battle), presented his side to one of his companions that he might plunge his sword into it.

The latin: Brutus cum in Cassio etiam suum animum perdidisset, ne quid ex constituti fide resignaret, (ita enim non superesse bello convenerat) ipse quoque uni comitum suorum confodiendum praebuit latus.

And then, much later, in what's actually a commentary on Dante's Inferno 34.67, Florus is recalled once more, but with an extremely interesting alteration [Benvenuto da Imola (1375-80), Inferno 34.64-67]: Brutus autem, cum perdidisset animum ex morte Cassii, fugiens, omni spe perdita, precibus obtinuit ut a Stratone socio suo interficeretur

[On the subject of the Inferno, there's something about pairs in hell, and Brutus and Cassius are (wait for it) a pair in hell!]

The way that Brutus and Cassius' are tied together in death is of an interesting note, simply because they died within the same month, but some accounts have them dying within days of each other, or even within the same moment

Orosius: Reduced to desperation, Brutus and Cassius both resolved to commit suicide before the battle came to an end. Cassius offered his head to the executioners whom they had summoned, while Brutus offered his side.

and there's something about the overlapping of their deaths in direct contradiction of the actual timeline that echoes back to warrior pairs dying together. You know. Nisus and Euryalus, and not to quote Fagles, but 'how fortunate, both at once!'

To take a short detour, if you enjoy wounds, death, angst potential, and parallels, there is an account where Brutus and Cassius kill each other in the aftermath of Philippi, and Nicodemus of Damascus writes that the hand wound Plutarch writes of in his Brutus biography was actually inflicted by Cassius [accidentally]: A moment before Cassius had struck him obliquely across the face. Decimus Brutus struck him through the thigh. Cassius Longinus was eager to give another stroke, but he missed and struck Marcus Brutus on the hand.

Which ties into my next topic! Cassius and Brutus as two halves of a thematic whole! Brutus and Cassius repeatedly get compared to complimentary roles, namely: the politician [Brutus] and the warrior [Cassius]. [If you're willing to engage with a little creative exploration, consider a comparative to courtly romance dynamics, knights and the one's they're sworn to, dedication to ideals, etc etc]

To steal a quote from Brutus, assassin par idéal [Anne Bernet], just to set the tone: Cassius, de son côté, admire l'idéalisme de Brutus, sa vertu, mais s'exaspère de le croire incapable d'agir. Ils exercent l'un sur l'autre une attraction dont on ne sait si elle est bonne ou mauvaise. Cassius a besoin de l'approbation de Brutus, et Brutus a besoin d'être poussé en avant par plus entreprenant que lui. L'association est plus harmonieuse qu'il n'y paraît.

Velleius Paterculus: Cassius was as much the better general as Brutus was the better man. Of the two, one would rather have Brutus as a friend, but would stand more in fear of Cassius as an enemy. The one had more vigour, the other more virtue.c As it was better for the state to have Caesar rather than Antony as emperor, so, had Brutus and Cassius been the conquerors, it would have been better for is to be ruled by Brutus rather than by Cassius.

If at the start of the year he had thought he could live under a clement master, now at its end Cassius' wishes for a free res publica were coming to the surface. Wheter he was the one to approach Brutus or the other way around is impossible to know; we should probably assume that the idea had crossed each man's mind before one of them gave expression to it. But in either case, Brutus may never have dreamed of actually killing Caesar without Cassius' cooperation- and, presumably, vice versa.

-Brutus: the Noble Conspirator, Kathryn Tempest

While we're still talking about them being two halves of a whole, there's something of a tradition to make them into one person. To borrow Si Sheppard's words: The name of Cassius has been inseparably paired with that of Brutus for more than 2,000 years.

And if that strikes your interest, Chaucer's 'Brutus Cassius' by H Theodore Silverstein, and also Fission-Fusion Cognition in Shakespearean Drama, The Case for Julius Caear, Miranda Anderson are the papers to read! On the specific topic of Brutus and Cassius and the ordering of their names, E.Rawson’s essay, Cassius and Brutus: The Memory of the Liberators is the way to go.

Now to get into THEATRE

We aren't starting with Shakespeare, we're doing Voltaire's La Mort de César

I'm going to start with my favorite line in French:

Cassius' first line to Brutus is this: Je t'embrasse, Brutus, pour la dernière fois.

The extremely fun thing about je t'embrasse is, despite every translation going in for 'I hug you' or in the case of that 19th century translation which omitted Cassius' direction to Brutus entirely, that it can also be translated to 'I kiss you, Brutus, for the last time.'

And now we'll get into the rest of it! I'll use the english translation for the rest of this for ease of reading.

Caesar has a line very early on, in reply to Antony bitching about Brutus, saying that Brutus has a 'seductive charm' that makes Caesar overlook Brutus' faults. For context, Caesar is Brutus' biological father in this play. Cassius is introduced despairing of the state of things, declaring that there's nothing left to do except die, and Brutus is the one who proposes conspiracy, and it's here we kind of see that seductive charm come into play because Cassius immediately adopts conspiracy of assassination as his entire desire.

Later, after Brutus finds out that Caesar is his father, and now enters a kind of existential despair he never really gets out of, Cassius presents Brutus' tie with himself to be one of more meaning over Caesar's biological tie to Brutus.

[Cassius]

Friend of Cassius, what more do you want?

These titles are sacred: all others outrage them.

Brutus reaffirms this positioning of relationship importance later with

[Brutus]

Yes, I am uniting my blood with yours forever.

With Voltaire taken care of, let's do Shakespeare!

First, let's do the Tent Scene, because everything else about Shakespeare is going to get split into a few parts.

Tents in Shakespeare are places where emotions can come to light, where displays of acting [compare Brutus with his 'But bear it as our Roman actors do,' vs Cassius and 'What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans.'] can be put aside and suppressed emotion and vulnerability brought into the light.

'Brutus and Cassius have been at loggerheads for some time; they now meet and will either sort out their differences, most of which derive from misunderstanding, or severely cripple their military effort against Octavius and Antony. Brutus knows that if they desire a serious conversation, they must withdraw from the soldiers surrounding them. Brutus says: "in my tent, Cassius, enlarge your griefs." The tent provides them a safe place for intense and often heated exchanges.' [Shakespeare's Intents in Tents, David M. Bergeron]

Now let's talk about HOMOEROTICISM IN SHAKESPEARE AND THE RENAISSANCE!

The text to be reading for this is "Romans, countrymen, and lovers": Performing Politics, Sovereign Amity and Masculinity in Julius Caesar, by Amy Scott, since it covers basically everything you could want regarding what's going on between Brutus and Cassius in this play.

"Within this first conversation, we also see immediate expression of the sovereign amity shared between these men. As Cassius first approaches Brutus, he complains that the quality of their friendship has been strained of late, and he does so in homoerotic terms: “I have not from your eyes that gentleness / And show of love as I was wont to have. / You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand / Over your friend that loves you” (1.2.33-36). Cassius is clearly testing Brutus’s disposition towards Caesar’s rise, and he is not disappointed by Brutus’s response. Brutus, like Cassius, professes the intensity of the male/male bond, numbering Cassius among his “good friends,” and apologizing that he has neglected “the shows of love to other men” (1.2.43,47). Cassius, when holding himself up as a mirror to Brutus, speaks again of his love for Brutus. Although this declaration may be called into question by his objective— namely to incite Brutus to conspiracy—the abundance of protestations of both love and sincerity throughout the play belie this possibility." [Amy Scott]

While I'm still here, this is basically the Seduction scene, although it should be noted that Cassius doesn't begin laying the ground work for conspiracy until Brutus first brings up his own misgivings, and now that I've said that: This Entire Video, Please, I'm Begging You To Watch It, I Haven't Know Peace Since I First Saw It [RSC 2017′s act 1 scene 2 alternatives, guys, it’s the seduction of Cassius this time]

On the topic of Cassius and seduction: Oxymoronic Ethos: The Rhetoric of Honor and Its Performance in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Xinyao Xiao, and also Has Cassius Been Misinterpreted? David Klein.

To Revisit the Tent Scene, Amy Scott compares it to a lovers quarrel, and it's not out of place. Within the framework of Renaissance Friendship Dynamics [where Friendship/Sovereign Amity frequently overlapped with the Homoerotic and Sexual], when balance gives way to excess, namely an excess of love, it turns the entire relationship sour.

"Before Cassius and Brutus have their confrontation, however, Brutus says to Lucillius echoing the language of Renaissance friendship discourses:

When love begins to sicken and decay

It useth an enforced ceremony.

There are no tricks in plain and simple faith;

But hollow men, like horses hot at hand,

Make gallant show and promise of their mettle.

(4.2.20-24)

When Brutus and Cassius do finally bicker, Cassius complains, “Brutus hath rived my heart” (4.3.85), “You love me not” (89), and “A friendly eye could never see such faults” (90). Brutus, echoing Plutarch, answers, “A flatterer’s would not, though they do appear/ As huge as high Olympus” (91-92)—recalling also Caesar’s “Hence! Wilt thou lift up Olympus” (3.1.74) just before Casca delivers the first blow. As a true friend aught, Brutus has used harsh, corrective speech, and he emphasizes the sovereign amity they share by embracing Cassius and offering his heart as well as the hand Cassius has requested. Cassius later proclaims, “I cannot drink too much of Brutus’ love” (4.3.162)." [Amy Scott]

So this, specifically, gives way to a comparison to [I am so sorry for this] the Poliziano-Lorenzo de' Medici-Clarice Dilemma, or Let's Talk About Bedroom Rivalries

"A close, careful reading of the letters exchanged between Lorenzo, Poliziano, and Clarice in this period, alongside poems composed by Lorenzo and Poliziano, provides an alternative reading of these events. My work will demonstrate that this was not an ideological dispute, but a rivalry between the sacred, licit bond of marriage and the illicit—but not uncommon—eroticized bond between two male friends." [Love and Marriage: Emotion and Sexuality in the Early Medici Family, Karen Burch]

Earlier in Shakespeare's play, Brutus and Porcia have a confrontation in which Porcia engages in a very interesting sort of gender play with Brutus [Brutus as well]. Porcia adopts the dynamic of male friendship with Brutus to try and get him to confide in her, and when that fails, then leverages their marriage and her own virtue against him.

"Given that masculinity in the Renaissance is often arguably constructed against anxieties about women’s chastity and the control of women’s sexuality, the defamation of Portia’s chastity necessarily equals the compromise of Brutus’s masculinity. Portia next re-scripts herself as not merely a woman, but most significantly as “[a] woman that Lord Brutus took to wife” (2.1.293) and “[a] woman well reputed, Cato’s daughter” (2.1.295). She asks Brutus, “Think you I am no stronger than my sex / Being so fathered and so husbanded?” (2.1.296-297). By aligning herself to the honor of her father and her husband, Portia not only points to the economy of exchange in which she is a commodity, but she also attempts to usurp some of their masculine honor for herself." [Amy Scott]

For additional reading on Porcia and the Performance of the Masculine Gender: Portia's Wound, Calphurnia's Dream: Reading Character in "Julius Caesar", Cynthia Marshall

I'm getting to my point, I promise.

Cassius and Porcia are identical relationship mirrors to Brutus in this play. They are Brutus' intimate relationships within the narrative, and Brutus begins this play out of reach for both of them, and they are the ones that must reach out to him. Cassius has to ask for confirmation of their closeness, Porcia must do the same, and then Cassius is forced to confrontation with Brutus a second time.

The core of the Poliziano-Lorenzo-Clarice Dilemma is that Poliziano's relationship with Lorenzo highlighted something in Clarice's relationship with her own husband. His association with Poliziano and the place of status Lorenzo gives to Poliziano presents a social shame for Clarice, which then later drives a wedge between Poliziano and Lorenzo which results in a truly explosive climax.

"The conflict between Clarice and Poliziano offers an example of this emotional inequality; when Clarice felt humiliated by her husband’s apparent favoritism towards Poliziano, she reacted with righteous fury." [Karen Burch]

"The beloved has the power to wound or heal the lover as they please. They can hold the lover “in pianti e in sospiri” or conquer him in warfare." [Karen Burch]

[RSC’s 2017 JC production]

So if we engage with a little creative cross application here, Cassius is not only the ideal relationship [again, within the dialogue of Renaissance friendship politics: men are the ideal companions for men, and it is misogynistic, but we'll also note that Shakespeare's Brutus leans into this misogyny by attributing Cassius' emotional faults to his mother] for Brutus, but also Cassius the Other Lover in this situation. The person laying the groundwork for the conspiracy is Cassius, and the conspiracy is what's keep Brutus from Porcia's bed.

"The bed was the locus of the camera and had, in addition to the connotations of authority, a distinctly sexual symbolism. It acted as a euphemism for both conjugal relations and for adultery, and Clarice may have seen Poliziano and Lorenzo’s interactions in this light. Friends often shared beds in this period, and the erotic potential of these arrangements was not lost on contemporaries. Rocke mentions at least two instances in which bed sharing among a group of friends ended in sex. Poliziano himself recounts how a man sharing galley quarters with youths began fondling (“manomettendo”) his bunkmate before being humorously rebuffed. Often, Florentines framed queer relationships in terms of sleeping together or sharing beds. Understanding families might even accommodate their sons’ lovers, providing them with their own bed to share." [Karen Burch]

[The comparison is not a 1:1, but more of a play on the way that people engaged in conspiracy have been referred to as bedfellows, and as Cassius is a central figure of the conspiracy tempting Brutus over to it and subsequently keeping Brutus out of his bed with Porcia, etc etc]

"As much as Portia herself seems to interrogate the assumptions of femininity and the supremacy of homosociality over heterosexuality, the play does not, finally, endorse her position. Although Portia does sway Brutus, she must refigure herself in terms familiar to masculinity and sovereign amity in order to do so." [Amy Scott]

With this, Cassius is no longer the ideal mirror for Brutus, but instead he’s been repositioned the other who must once again seek out some kind of reconciliation with Brutus because his own position with Brutus is no longer clear. Like in the beginning of the play, distance between them has been assumed, but this time to the point of confrontation. Love and affection has turned sour, and it’s only through confrontation that resolution can be found and balance can be struck once more.

I'm going to throw in here that I personally like to imagine that they all got along pretty well historically, but again. This is a creative thought exercise that we're doing for Fun and Drama. It's about the theatrics.

Citations [not including the historical sources]

Voltaire's La Mort de César Shakespeare's Julius Caesar Brutus: the Noble Conspirator, Kathryn Tempest Brutus, assassin par idéal, Anne Bernet Shakespeare's Intents in Tents, David M. Bergeron "Romans, countrymen, and lovers": Performing Politics, Sovereign Amity and Masculinity in Julius Caesar, by Amy Scott Oxymoronic Ethos: The Rhetoric of Honor and Its Performance in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, Xinyao Xiao Has Cassius Been Misinterpreted? David Klein Chaucer's 'Brutus Cassius,' H Theodore Silverstein Fission-Fusion Cognition in Shakespearean Drama, The Case for Julius Caear, Miranda Anderson Portia's Wound, Calphurnia's Dream: Reading Character in "Julius Caesar", Cynthia Marshall Cassius and Brutus: the Memories of the Liberators, E. Rawson

An additional reading list if you, like me, enjoy reading up more about homoerotic relationships and friendship discourse in the renaissance!

Between Friends: Discourses of Power and Desire in the Machiavelli-Vettori Letters of 1513–1515, John M Najemy, Homosexuality and the Signs of Male Friendship in Elizabethan England, Alan Bray, Love and Marriage: Emotion and Sexuality in the Early Medici Family, Karen Burch, "Socratic Love" as a Disguise for Same Sex Love in the Italian Renaissance, Giovanni Dall'Orto

[floralcyanide]

amygdala || scream

chapter ten (final chapter)

amygdala: “a roughly almond-shaped mass of gray matter inside each cerebral hemisphere, involved with the experiencing of emotions, most notably fear.”

in which the reader knows something they shouldn’t about their two best friends.

story masterlist

1k celebration prompt requests

>> omg guys it’s finally here ): the ending )): I had so much fun writing this, and this challenged me as a writer because I have never finished a fanfic before, despite writing for years. I wanna thank everyone who read this, left comments, reblogged/ left kudos/ voted/ liked this story! even if you didn’t like it, thank you for your time! I will be working on a new fanfic that’s more detailed and longer. I’ll still be taking requests, but until then, laters babies! <3

pairing: billy loomis x reader, stu macher x reader

warnings: mentions of death, gore, blood, knives, guns, and murder, major character death, strong language, violence

word count: 1470

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

      You can hear your pulse in your ears, your heart is pumping at a rapid pace. Blood. Blood everywhere. All you can recall is blood. The air smelled of it, your hands were covered in it, your body stained with it. You tried your best to keep Sidney’s throat closed, but you couldn't stop the bleeding. So, here you sit curled up in a ball on the floor, covered in your best friend’s blood as she lays lifeless next to you. Your two other best friends, if you’d call them that, stand above you tauntingly.

     You sniff, your hand quickly covering your nose at the sharp smell of blood, “I won’t say anything.”

Your voice is quiet, so quiet that the two boys almost don’t hear you. 

      “If you let me live I won’t say anything. Frame Sidney’s dad for all I care, we can all say we survived his attacks and that he killed himself after killing Sid. Just please, I’m begging,” you say, staring up at Stu and Billy pleadingly.

      Billy toys with his lip using the tip of his knife, thinking over your bargain before turning to Stu.

      “What do you think?” 

      You want to say you’re doing this because a sick, sick part of you wants to stay in their lives. The people you knew before they revealed themselves are people you want to know forever, even if they are psychopaths. Or maybe, you’re in such shock that you’d do anything to live, whether you’re lying to them or not.

      Stu whispers in Billy’s ear, “We care about them, remember? We didn’t want to kill them.”

      “Well, things change,” Billy says out loud, turning back to you.

      “We let you live on two conditions,” he begins, crouching down to your level, “The first is that, if you say anything to anyone, everyone you care about will die.”

      You want to snort at that. The only people who matter to you are Billy and Stu as well as your mother. You have no other family, and at this point, no other friends.

      “Billy, that’d be difficult considering you two are the only people I really care about.”

His breath hitches at that. You still care?

      Stu sits on the floor next to you, “The second condition is that you stay with us. Forever.”

      “What?” you ask, shocked. What the hell did that mean?

      He must’ve seen the genuine confusion on your face, so he adds, “Like, in order for us to keep an eye on you, we all have to stay together.”

      “What about school and my mom?” you ask.

      “After all this blows over, we need to remain normal. We’re gonna stay in school. Your mom will understand there’s a trauma bond, isn’t that right, Stu?” Billy nudges the sandy-haired boy, who is eyeing the blood all over you. He finds it oddly attractive.

      “Yeah, that’s right,” Stu nods in agreement.

      You hate to do this to yourself, and a part of you hated to do it to them. But you remind yourself you’re not doing this to the boys you thought they were, you’re doing this to two deranged psychopaths. 

      “Okay. So it’s settled, then,” Billy says standing up, “We have to make this look real. You’re going to stab me, and then I’ll stab you.”

      Stu nods, standing up and beginning to amp himself up, “Okay! Let’s do this!”

      Stu takes the blade from Billy before stabbing him in the left side below his ribs. You look away, cringing.

      “Fuck, goddammit it, Stu!” Billy shouts, leaning against the island.

       Billy takes his turn, jabbing the knife into Stu numerous times, and each time you cringe further back into the cabinet pressed to your back.

      The both of them notice this, and Stu, albeit in pain and bloody, wants to comfort you. Deep down inside, Billy feels bad seeing you upset at them being hurt. They both do. Psychopathic tendencies aside, they never wanted to hurt or kill you in their plan, but you were too smart and got in the way. Now, however, since a deal has been sprung, they no longer have the desire to harm you in any way. You, though? You wouldn’t turn down the chance to kill them right now if it means you live. And that sucks. It sucks so bad because they’re the only good friends you’ve ever had that you related to. But that all could be due to them being crazy and mimicking your behavior to get close to you. At the same time, would they really do all of that just to kill you? They did that with Sidney, but she was the main victim. They surely wouldn’t put in all that effort to kill you too, right?

      “Billy, please stop! I’m getting a little woozy here!” Stu cries out, holding onto his side, his favorite sweater now soaked in his own blood.

      You look at the both of them with worry, wanting to disappear into the cabinet behind you.

      “Hey, (Y/N), it’s okay. We lo-” Billy is cut off by a gunshot behind him. He doesn’t bother turning around, blood pooling his shirt at his abdomen quickly.

He clutches his stomach, falling to his knees in front of you. 

      “You bitch!” Stu yells from beside Billy, looking at the perpetrator.

      The boy with the brown hair collapses to the floor beside you and Sidney, his blood pouring onto the tile at a rapid pace. The smell of it wafts through your nose again. You desperately want to throw up.

      Stu had laid the gun down on the counter when he and Billy were stabbing each other, that’s where the shooter must have gotten it from. Stu leans down and grabs the knife from beside Billy, running to the person with the gun. 

       He doesn’t get very far before he’s shot as well, turning around towards you as he holds his hand to his chest. His hand is covered in even more blood, and this time it’s his own.

       You look up to see Gale Weathers pointing the gun. You want to feel relieved, but you weren’t going to until this was completely over. Your breath is shaky as you place a hand on Billy’s face as he blinks up at you with bleary eyes. He’s dying. Your best friends are dying and you don’t know how to feel about it, even if they are fucking crazy. Tears begin to fall down your face as you gently run your thumb over Billy’s cheekbone.

      “I’m sorry,” you say, feeling awful that everything in his life came to this moment. His mother abandoned him and made him this way. But his actions can’t be justified, he killed all of your friends. You want to hate him, but you can’t.

      Billy coughs up blood, shaking his head, “I’m sorry,” he croaks out, before his eyes glaze over and become empty. His body stills.

      You let out a sob as Gale watches you, feeling a little sad because you lost all of your friends in such a tragic way. You crawl over to Stu, who is struggling to breathe. 

      “It’s okay, Stu. Just let go,” you’re still a blubbering mess as you whisper to him, your tears falling on his face.

      His eyes glance over at you as he wheezes, reaching his hand out to hold yours. Death is an inexplicably human experience. Not exclusive to humans, no, but an emotionally tolling experience that humans feel differently from other animals. Watching your friends die in front of you is something you’ll never get over, but something you’ll just learn to live with. As life leaves Stu’s eyes, you finally breathe a sigh of relief. Relief. You haven’t felt it in so long, it’s almost odd to not be on edge or terrified every second of everyday. You look up at Gale, who is still in her aimed position. She lowers the gun, tossing it on the floor. 

      “I called the police, they should be here any second,” she says in a monotone voice. Her face is cut and bruised from the accident.

      “I thought you were dead,” you say, wiping your eyes.

      “I did too,” she lets out an empty chuckle. 

      There’s silence before you begin to hear sirens. The two of you walk to the front door, having to step over bodies to get there. Dewey is still laying on the porch with a knife sticking out of his back, but his eyes are open.

      “Dewey?” you gasp, shocked that he’s alive too. 

      “(Y/N),” he whispers.

      “Help is here, it’s okay,” you crouch down, resting a hand on his shoulder.

      You see the sun peaking over the horizon as police and ambulances pull into Stu’s driveway. 

      Maybe things will be okay. After all, there’s always tomorrow.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 126]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Feel free to send in asks about anything at any point, even if it’s not for the part of the story I’m currently on.

If you aren’t interested and don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.”

See the Folds in Time Universe Master Post for edited chapters. Not yet edited chapters are under the cut. I also have a playlist on youtube for this story.

No idea how long I’ll last today, but let’s see.

Chapter 45

           They arrived at the coffee shop after a short walk. It was a cute little location and very early 21st century with the décor. There were falling apart board games on a bookshelf and a few magazines left on the table in front of an older looking couch. The lights were slightly dimmer than most places would have them, making how close one sat to the window important to getting the lighting one wanted. There were also fairy lights and little boards with inspirational quotes laying around on every free shelf.

           Logan instantly ordered a coffee from the barista with a few extra expresso shots. It was… probably more caffeine than a man who was banned from caffeine probably should have, but honestly, who was Virgil to judge? Virgil ended up ordering the same thing (minus the expresso shots). Then, they ordered a couple of pastries to eat, which Virgil could already tell were way too sweet for breakfast. Oh, 21st century America, Virgil thought to himself with a smile.

           Logan seemed to catch the smile. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. Virgil shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. Just casually judging your entire time and country.

           Logan didn’t question him more, getting distracted as his phone chimed with a text. He probably didn’t notice his own fond smile he sent the phone as he typed and answer. “I told them I’m showing you the town a bit,” he informed Virgil. “Which is not technically a lie.”

           “Not, technically, no,” Virgil replied, as Logan led him over to one of the tables to sit while they waited for their drinks. Virgil reached forward and grabbed a cinnamon roll. He took a dubious bite and grimaced slightly. That’s about what I’d expected, he thought.

           “What?” Logan asked.

           “Oh,” Virgil said. “It’s just that your time has a thing for artificial sweeteners.” He kept his voice down despite being in a far back corner with no one near them.

           “My apologies, would you like something else?” Logan asked.

Virgil waved him off. “I’ll acclimate. If I could get used to 1950s post war, society is getting used to instant gelatin, recipes during my post-doc, I can figure out how to stomach an overly sweet pastry or two.

“You spent time in the 1950s?” Logan asked, doing that think where he cocked his head slightly to the left again.

“Mmm, not my favorite, but the direct results of World War II are important to study.”

“You spent your time in the United States?” he asked.

“For a bit, but I hopped around a lot and also went to the 60s and 70s. I was basically tracing the evolution of different social issues in the wake of World War II for both the Axis and Allied Powers.”

“An interesting topic,” Logan replied. “I imagine even in the 21st century, I would not have a fully unbiased perspective, especially when it comes to different countries.”

“Oh, you definitely don’t,” Virgil confirmed.

“Perhaps I’ll take a look at your work from then sometime,” he suggested.

           “Oh, uh,” Virgil said, and he really shouldn’t be flustered about that. He’s gone to conferences and presented his work before. “Yeah, if you want. It’s a bit older and from when I was less experienced, but I mean…”

           “I’m sure it’s still exceptional.”

           Virgil was saved from the mortifying ordeal of responding to that by the barista calling their names to say their drinks were done. Logan got up to grab them. Get it together, Virgil, he begged himself while shoving another too sweet piece of pastry into his mouth.

           Logan set the coffees down on the table in front of them and Virgil took his with a closed mouth smile of thanks, while still chewing on his cinnamon roll.

Chapter 46

Virgil was correct about his ability to find the location of the farmer’s market. After they ate and finished their coffee, they set out to investigate the location of the time anomaly. “I ended up under the stage,” Virgil informed him. The stage had already been taken down, but it was easy to see where it had once been based on the depressions on the ground.

Logan had brought a few of his tools when they had left that morning and he pulled out a modified iPad.

“You hide your time travel tech as an iPad?” Virgil asked curiously.

Logan glanced at him and said nothing.

 “…You made your time travel tech out of an iPad!” Virgil exclaimed.

“It is one of the most easily accessible technologies of this time that is also portable,” Logan shrugged. “I use what I can get.”

“How did you manage to invent time travel with 21st century technology?” Virgil asked.

“It took me a couple of decades,” Logan replied.

“It took them literal centuries.”

“Well, I knew it could happen, so I simply made it happen.”

“You’re terrifying,” Virgil stated.

Logan just hummed and set the iPad scrolling through its diagnostic programs. It scanned the area around them for anything that might indicate time travel.

 “Well,” Logan said. “There is definitely an anomaly, but we already knew that. It’s a strange one, however.”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked.

“I’d assumed whatever had caused you to end up here had dragged you here, but what I’m finding doesn’t seem to be remnants of something to cause time travel. On the contrary, it seems to be similar readings to what stopped Janus time travel to stop working in previous circumstances. I don’t know a lot about the time travel technology from your time, but I have noted they tend to briefly ping off of times near to your destination in order to recalibrate when going a certain amount of time. Perhaps your device did a brief landing here at the wrong time and then was deactivated much like TPI devices have been deactivated beforehand and you got stuck.”

 “What does that mean for me?”

“Well, it means your device isn’t broken,” Logan said.

“Then why isn’t it working?” Virgil asked.

“Because,” Logan said. “whatever is deactivating it is still here.”

Virgil looked at his feet as though expecting to see the device sitting on the ground somewhere.

“Not here here,” Logan clarified, “but close by. They have a limited range from what I understand, though I don’t know precisely how far. It’s definitely in this time however. But it’s strange,” Logan tapped out a few things on his device, double checking that he hadn’t missed anything with his regular monitoring.

 “It’s not causing any other problems.” Logan continued. “We’ve only ran into them once or twice before and we’ve never managed to get our hands on one too actually study it, but each time we’ve seen them, they created some sort of issue in the environment, but there are no obvious time abnormalities or weather problems. In fact, if I wasn’t looking for it, I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Okay, well then, can’t we just find it and shut it off?” Virgil asked. “That’s what I know Janus did when he ran into them.”

“It is,” Logan confirmed. “The only issue is without the obvious environmental clues I have no idea where it actually is to turn it off.”

 “How the hell do we find it then?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Logan said. “It definitely was here when it switched on, but it’s definitely not here anymore.” He looked around. “Perhaps it was attached to the stage or put in the musician’s instrument cases. Then again, by that logic, it could have been put in anyone’s bags or in a since emptied trashcan.”

“So, it could basically be anywhere?”

“Basically,” Logan agreed. “We will check the easiest possibilities to track down and if that produces no results, I’ll… figure out something.”

Virgil grimaced. “That sounds promising.”

“I will do my best,” Logan promised. “I just wish I knew more about these things.”

 Virgil seemed to hesitate. “How would you go about learning more about it?”

“Well,” Logan said, “if I can get my hands on a similar device, I could probably figure out a more reliable way to track it.”

“You do,” Virgil said.

“I do what?”

“You do have one.”

Logan frowned. “I assure you, I do not.”

“But you do,” Virgil said. “Eventually.”

“…Oh, I see.” Logan replied. “Do you perhaps know where we do eventually find it?”

Virgil pressed his lips together. “I think I might already be saying too much,” he said. “It’s stuff you shouldn’t know about yet in your personal future. People aren’t supposed to…”

 “Time is not nearly as sensitive as the TPI seems to believe,” Logan said with an eyeroll. “In fact, most of Janus and Patton’s interactions so far involve accidently giving more information than necessary.”

“I don’t know…”

“I’m a time traveler from the 21st century who lives with a French man from the 1800s,” Logan said. “I’m not asking for a run down of every part of the event, just a time and place to point us in the correct direction.”

Virgil still didn’t seem convinced.

“It would really only be a time saver,” Logan argued. “I could just blindly look for time distortions, but it’d take a while…”

 “Fine,” Virgil said after a moment. “This is probably entirely stupid, but fine. Give me a moment to think about what exactly I can tell you, so I don’t mess everything up.”

Logan smiled slightly at his overly cautious behavior but waited patiently.

“Janus met Pat once in Cuba. There was a time distortion during Camaguey Carnival of 1755. Pat took the device that had been causing the disturbance and left before Janus could catch him.”

“Camaguey 1755,” Logan repeated. “Got it. I’ll look into it, and we can see what we can do. It’ll still take a few days to prep however.”

 Logan would need to find exact coordinates and he’d have to talk to Patton considering he’d just recently gotten back from an unwillingly long trip to pre-history. He’d probably be willing to go, but he’d mentioned Logan making him a “time survival pack” before he was willing to go back into the timestream. They’d need to talk about what exactly that entailed and get the supplies for it. His mind was already making plans about what he needed to do.

Virgil nodded. “Should we head back to the apartment then?” he asked, interrupting Logan’s thoughts. Logan glanced at him. He had actually planned to show the man around a bit today instead of spending all of their time thinking about time travel.

 “I cannot be sure that my roommates will have cleaned up their French toast nonsense by now,” he said. “We should likely wait to return until at least the lunch hour. It is not as though we could do anything about it today. We will need to plan.”

“Okay,” said Virgil, “then what are we going to do for the next 3-4 hours?”

“Well,” Logan said. “Perhaps I can show you around the town a bit more so as to not make more of a liar of myself than I already have.”

“Sure,” Virgil agreed with a smile. “What will you be showing me.”

“I was thinking we could visit the local museum. We can compare notes about how wildly inaccurate the exhibits present history.”

Virgil rolled his eyes at Logan, but there was something warm underneath his expression. “Fine,” he said, “but I bet I know more than you.”

 Chapter 47

The museum was interesting, not because it taught him any more about the events behind the exhibits on display, but more that learning what people in the 21st century cared about and how they presented past events was an anthropological lesson in its own right. Their conversation became a game of not only finding the mistakes made in the exhibits, but also Virgil hypothesizing why those mistakes were made: prejudice, missing information, and unreliable secondary sources all contributed, and Virgil spent a lot of time talking through the possibilities.

They spent a few hours there before heading back to Logan’s apartment.

 Not without stopping at a small, hole in the wall, bar inhabited only by day drinkers. When Virgil gave Logan a weird look, he explained, “I have to bring back a peace offering for running off this morning if I want Patton to agree to a time travel mission for me.”

“…And Patton likes… vodka?” he guessed.

“No,” Logan replied, amused. “This establishment serves cheeseburgers which are apparently the ‘best in the city.’ They do not, however, cook anything else. Not even fries.”

When Logan handed him an unlabeled brown paper bag that looked as though it had been dipped in hot oil instead of just it’s contents, Virgil shot him a raised eyebrow. “Ah, yes,” he said, “the quintessential 21st century American meal.”

 “You once ate only bagged pepperoni meant for pizzas for breakfast for a week once.”

“I told you that in confidence,” Virgil said, smacking him lightly with the bag of grease.

“And I have told no one,” Logan responded. “Therefore, I have not violated any part of our agreement.”

“You’re making fun of me. That’s definitely a part of the agreement,” Virgil said.

“I don’t remember there being any clause like that in our verbal contract,” Logan replied with a slight smirk. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Besides, I’m not truly making fun of you. The decision to fuel your body solely with pepperoni is, while not the best strategy and one that would certainly prove detrimental in the long run, it is better to eat that then nothing.”

 “Oh,” Virgil said. “Uh, good.”

“I’m simply citing another example where not as healthy food in the long term can be good in the short term.”

“But in this case instead of depression eating to stay alive, the purpose is bribery.”

“Exactly,” Logan said. “Bribery to end the time distortion and get you back to the proper time.”

“Alright, fair enough.”

“You don’t have to eat any if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, no, I’m going to.”

“Then why are you complaining?” Logan asked amused.

“I just thought you should know your time has way too greasy food,” Virgil said.

 “Thank you for the information,” Logan said dryly. They’d made it back to the apartment by then, and Logan stuffed the bag he was carrying under his arm to unlock the door.

“And where have the two of you been?” Patton asked when they walked into the kitchen.

“I have cheeseburgers for you,” was how Logan answered.

Patton rolled his eyes as Logan set the bag down in front of him. He was sitting at the kitchen table typing on a laptop. “The French toast wasn’t that bad,” he said.

“I will take your word for it,” Logan said pleasantly.

 Patton just shook his head and reached into the bag for a cheeseburger. Logan kept looking at him, and that obviously meant something Virgil didn’t know, because Patton glanced up at him after eating a couple of bites. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

“Virgil and I went back to where he arrived,” Logan said. “There are signs that one of the devices that cause time distortions is present.”

“There aren’t any weather disturbances though,” Patton pointed out.

“It seems to be a more advanced version,” Logan answered. “Which will make much more difficult to track.”

“Okay,” Patton said, “then what are we going to do?”

 “Well,” Logan said, “if we could get our hands on an older version, we could probably use it to narrow down the current one’s location.”

“And how exactly are we going to get an older version?” Patton asked, eyebrow raised.

“I understand that you have only been back from your last trip for a little over a week and that your last trip through time was a bit difficult, but,” he nodded towards Virgil, “we do know of the time and place one exists that you would have a good chance of being able to find, deactivate, and bring home.”

 Patton groaned. “And judging by the source of this information, steal off of the TPI.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

“At least, in this case, you will go into it knowing there will be no major disasters.”

…

Should Virgil… say something. It’d be rude not to mention the whole time shredding almost drowning bullshit, wouldn’t it? Then again… giving him foreknowledge could be a danger to the timestream. He debated with himself whether general social courtesy should outrank the possible destruction of time or not.

…

Maybe he’d just suggest a boat if they didn’t plan to take one? Just in case?

 “Fine,” Patton said, “but you’re finishing your tech updates and making me a survival pack before I make any jump. I’m not making the same mistake again.”

Logan nodded. “I can do that,” he agreed. “Just tell me what you want in your survival pack.”

“I’ve already been working on a list,” Patton said. “I’ll email it to you.” He turned back to the computer he’d been working on and typed a few things. “You can add to it if you think of anything.”

Logan looked at his phone as it dinged. “…Do you really need all of this?”

“Yes,” Patton said, taking another bite of his cheeseburger.

“…I’ll do my best?”

“You’ll do it,” Patton returned.

“Right.”

“I’ll start researching Cuba in the 1700’s,” he said.

Virgil saw him pull up google on his computer. He looked at the 21st century computer and then back to Patton. He couldn’t help but think of the museum he and Logan had been to earlier that day. “Do you want help?”

 Chapter 48

It took a little over two weeks to get everything set up. Logan had already been in the process of updating their equipment for quite some time, and this situation only spurned him on. He also then had to figure out a way to meet all of Patton’s demands for his new survival kit. His list had already been quite long before he’d started to add to it. He’d even slipped in a request for a boat at some point despite Logan’s protests that Camaguey Cuba was nowhere near the sea.

Thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to mind the delays too much.

 In fact, he may have had a hand in the delays as his natural inclination towards anxiety seemed to infect Patton and cause him to add and add to his list of safeguards for Logan to make. He and Patton were spending a good amount of time together, actually. Patton was fairly good at researching the places he planned to go at this point, but Virgil was undeniably more experienced with that sort of thing considering he worked with the TPI. Patton seemed to appreciate his input.

Roman, on the other hand, decidedly did not. The two of them were prone to arguments about clothing which had gone beyond talking about Cuban clothing to arguments about clothing from pretty much all of time.

 Logan could not tell if they were friendly debates or not. He’d even asked Patton who had claimed he also could not tell. Neither Roman nor Virgil’s responses when asked directly about the nature of their relationship were helpful either. Logan did notice that Roman changed the fabric of the outfit he made for Patton after one of their conversations.

Virgil was not much help to Logan unless you counted the intel, he’d given that helped Logan choose the correct time and place. At least, not in the sense that he was able to help with the mathematics and physics Logan was dealing with.

 He was, however, good for company. Especially as his sleep schedule much more closely resembled Logan’s own in those weeks. Typically Roman and Patton went to sleep at a much earlier hour than he did himself and Logan would work alone in the living room, but with Virgil living in the apartment, there was constant companionship while he worked, and less volatile company than he was used to working with (assuming, of course, Roman had gone to sleep by that time). It was nice.

He seemed to fit into their little group in a way Logan had not anticipated. Or at least, socially he did. Physically, there were simply not enough beds and Logan had been sleeping on the couch for two weeks.

 Eventually, with all of their combined efforts, everything was ready to go. Patton had three different time appropriate outfits, a good amount of knowledge about the festivities he was about to attend, new time travel equipment, and a survival pack that could help him survive an apocalypse. Patton was planning to arrive in Cuba two days earlier than the TPI protocol would send agents like Janus. That way, he would have time to set up and get acclimated before the TPI sent in their surveillance and touchdown agents.

“This is cool,” Patton said, flexing his fingers to see the hidden screen on his palms light up with a map of the area.

 “It’s organized the same as your previous device, except for, of course, the control panel to control the cloaking technology and the access to the survival kit.

“Looks great, Lo,” Patton said, still fiddling with it. He changed it to its default state of a metal band projecting the screen and then back to the time appropriate bracelet Roman had designed. There weren’t many possibilities programed for hiding the device yet, but more could be designed in the future. For now, it only had the default band, the bracelet, and a wristwatch.

“I’ve already tested it a good number of times, but you should familiarize yourself with it anyway before leaving.”

 Patton nodded, flicked his fingers and disappeared for a moment before reappearing in the same place. Then, he did it again and reappeared directly next to where he’d been standing. He did similar things a few times before predictably getting bored and starting to do ‘tricks’ which mostly involved landing in ridiculous poses and also accidently jump scaring everyone in the apartment at least twice. Eventually, Logan confiscated it for the evening so they could have dinner in peace.

Patton went to bed early, planning on leaving the next day. Roman quickly retired to his room shortly after leaving Logan and Virgil alone in the living room.

 Despite knowing already his calculations were perfect, Logan still sat on the couch checking over them one more time just to make sure. Virgil sat on the floor with his back against the couch watching videos on Logan’s cell phone with headphones borrowed from Patton’s collection.

He glanced up when Logan shifted positions and Logan flashed him a smile.

Virgil removed the headphones to speak. “Thanks by the way,” he said, “I already said it to Patton and will again in the morning, but thanks for helping me out with all of this.”

“It wouldn’t have been particularly kind of us to leave you stranded,” Logan pointed out.

 “Yeah, but still, you’ve all been working really hard. Right now you’re up at 3am working on it.”

Logan shrugged. “I’d likely be up working at 3am on something anyway,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said, “but this time it’s for me so, yeah, thanks.”

“You’re welcome then,” Logan said. “Any time.”

Virgil tilted his head back to grin at him. “Was that a time travel pun.”

Logan scowled. “No.”

“It sounded like a time travel pun.”

“It was not intentional. I will never intentionally say a pun.”

“You’re telling me you live with Patton and never make puns?” Virgil asked.

 “I, unlike my roommates, am a responsible adult,” Logan insisted.

Virgil seemed skeptical. “Is that why you’re drinking forbidden coffee out of an orange juice carton at 3am.”

“Not so loud,” he hissed, leaning forward to put Virgil’s mouth and glancing back towards the hallway to see if anyone was about to come storming into the living room with another intervention.

His hand was bit.

“Ow!” Logan exclaimed, taking his hand back. “How do you know?” he hissed. The ruse had been working on Roman and Patton for years because neither liked orange juice.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I can smell it,” he said. “I’m not dumb.”

 “It’s worked on everyone else.”

“No,” Virgil said. “It’s worked on one dramatic idiot and one man who trusts people not to lie to him way too much. I, however, am a paranoid asshole with a doctorate. You can’t fool me.”

Logan couldn’t help but smiled. “I suppose I have met my match,” he said.

He tilted his head all the way back, so his skull rested on the couch cushion and he was staring straight up at Logan with his piercing hazel eyes. “Heck yeah you have,” Virgil said, and Logan was not much more sentimentality, especially not romantic sentimentality, but there was something about the shadows making the room seem cozier and the almost golden glint in his eyes from the lit lamp beside Logan that made it more difficult to breath.

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He was relaxed here in Logan’s apartment at 3 in the morning, looking up at him with warm eyes. He fit, slotting into place with an ease Logan had not expect. He’d found Professor Virgil Eran interesting from the moment he’d first heard him speak and had glanced through his university profile for information on whoever had plugged his virus into their computer. He had found him endearing when they’d corresponded through emails and occasionally one sided video chats. It was different with him right in front of Logan, within arm’s reach. He could reach down barely a few inches and brush his slightly unruly hair out of his eyes.

 “You good man?” Virgil asked.

“I am perfectly well,” Logan said, clearing his throat. He glanced away from Virgil. “I think perhaps my roommates have a bit of a point when it comes to caffeine.”

“Maybe at 3am,” Virgil said in good humor. “You’re not a college kid.”

Logan glanced at the college professor on his living room floor. “Well, thank goodness for that,” he mumbled

“I think your calculations are fine anyway,” Virgil said, gently taking the papers out of his grip. “Why don’t we do something else?”

“Like sleep?” Logan asked.

“You think you’ll be sleeping anytime soon?” Virgil inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Fair point.”

Virgil grabbed the television remote from side table. “Why don’t we watch a bit of that time inappropriate copy of the Epithet File I know you have.”

“Sure,” Logan agreed. “You can come onto the couch if you would like.”

“Nah. You can come to the floor.”

“…Fine.”

 Chapter 49

Patton left in the morning and from there it was just a waiting game. Which, was Virgil’s least favorite type of game. He tried to keep his anxiety on the down low considering it was Logan and Roman’s lifelong friend who was running around some other century, and they were both obviously nervous as well, since the last trip had ended in disaster.

…

This trip was going to end in disaster a little bit too, but Virgil was going to ignore that. At least he wouldn’t be gone for months.

The point was, Roman was constantly going to the gym which was, reportedly not normal behavior and Logan spent his days re-checking calculations that were too late to correct and had worked considering Patton had been in contact occasionally.

 Yet, despite the fact that he was clearly an anxious wreck as well, Logan eventually forced himself to put his lined notebook paper away for a bit. Roman was out once again when he did so and Virgil was doom scrolling on his phone.

“We should go out to dinner,” he declared suddenly.

Virgil glanced at the pile of take-out containers stacked near the kitchen trashcan. “Sure,” he agreed.

Which was why Virgil was leaving the apartment for the first time in the last three or so days. Logan had asked him if he wanted anything in particular, but he didn’t care and also didn’t know what restaurants were around, so he was just letting Logan lead him wherever he wanted.

 He should not have trusted him.

He glared at Logan, but the man only seemed entertained by his ire. “Really?” Virgil asked.

“I wanted to see for myself if you were really that bad with chopsticks.”

“I’m not,” Virgil said, crossing his arms. “It was just the anxiety about the social situation, and I resent this.”

Logan just laughed, knowing well enough that Virgil wasn’t actually irritated. Honestly, he felt fonder than anything that Logan had chosen to take him here. “It’s actually pretty good sushi.”

“21st century American Midwest sushi,” Virgil drawled. “I’m simply quivering with anticipation for that authenticity.”

 “It’s unanimously considered the best sushi in town by my friend group,” Logan said as if the fact that Mr. Asiago Cheese Bread For French Toast and Mr. Went Along With Cooking Asiago Cheese Bread French Toast approved of the restaurant would inspire any confidence in Virgil. If he could even call the place a ‘restaurant.’

“It’s. In. A. Mall.”

“So?” Logan asked.

“It’s a sushi stand in a mall. There isn’t even seating.”

“There is seating,” Logan argued nodding at the five chairs sitting in front of the counter. The seating was completely empty which could be because their eating schedule was off and they were eating dinner at 3pm, but more likely meant everyone else in the time had more sense than the man in front of him.

 “Where is your sense of adventure for trying new things?” Logan asked. “Are you not an anthropologist. Don’t you want to experience the culture of the time first hand.”

Virgil glared at him.

“Please try it,” Logan said sill amused. “It really is good.”

“If I get food poisoning, I’m blaming you,” he warned.

“Noted,” Logan said, inclining his head. Then, Virgil reluctantly allowed him to lead him over to the sushi stand from where they’d been hiding behind a trash can so as not to be in the direct line of sight of the man standing behind the counter.

 The man greeted them as they approached. He obviously recognized Logan and even asked about Patton and Roman as they took a seat. Virgil did have to admit, despite his instinctual misgivings about mall sushi, what he could glimpse of his set up seemed legit. It looked like a real sushi bar if a bit smaller than usual. Where they had sat, there was a glass case in front of them with chilled fish on display and Virgil could see a large rice cooker behind the man along with a normal refrigerator.

Laminated menus were handed to them. They were only one page front and back, but honestly that was probably a good thing. If it had a bunch of complicated or fancy stuff, Virgil might have been worried.

 Well, he was still worried, but he wasn’t running screaming. At least his setup looked like it probably wouldn’t give him too much food poisoning. Logan suggested a rainbow and a snake roll and they got some different types of nigiri.

The chef was nice, and he assembled the sushi fully in Virgil’s view which made him a whole lot less leery about the meal. He seemed to know what he was doing at least. Of course, the fish was not as fresh as it would have been in a coastal area, but it was clearly properly handled. When he was finished, he handed it to them all on one big plate.

 He had to admit, when correcting for ingredient availability, it was actually pretty good sushi. He would not say it was the best sushi he’d ever had, but it was worlds better than he’d expected. Logan could obviously tell what his opinion was and was overly smug about it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said when they were finished. “You’re good at picking restaurants.”

“I’m sure you are also when in a place you are familiar with.”

“I’m not actually,” Virgil said with a laugh. “I always panic choose the worst option.”

“Well, I tend to be quite decisive about such things,” Logan said. “I guess we make a good match.”

 “Yeah,” Virgil said. “Uh, what are we going to do when we get home? Because sitting there drowning in anxiety like we have been for the past couple of days isn’t the greatest.”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“You guys have Blockbuster still?”

“No,” Logan said. He paused. “We do have a Family Video store I think.”

“Is it close? Let’s go there.”

“And why are we not just using a streaming service?” Logan asked. “Or using my… library of movies.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s the charm of it,” he said.

“The charm of a business already made obsolete and on the brink of collapse?”

 “Exactly,” said Virgil with a smile.

“Very well,” Logan said. “If that is what you’d like to do I will look up its location on my phone.”

They were in a building that would look abandoned if there wasn’t a light on inside within 15 minutes. The video rental store had clearly seen better days. Its carpet’s pattern was clearly from another decade and had been trampled over so often it was basically like walking on the linoleum beneath. There was a door on the sign asking patrons to close it behind them because the spring used to close it had long since ceased working.

 There was only one person working, a guy in his 30s who glanced at them briefly and then went back to looking at his phone. Ah, yes, Virgil’s favorite type of employee.

“What movie would you like to watch?” Logan asked. He glanced at one small, but still surprisingly present section filled with DVDs.

“I don’t know,” Virgil said. “Isn’t that the point? Stop by a movie rental place on a Friday night, grab a more than likely crappy movie and some Milk Duds and proceed to sit and watch the stupid thing anyway because you already paid for it.”

 “Virgil, I grew up in the 90s. This isn’t exactly exciting for me. There is a reason streaming sites took over the market,” Logan replied. “Also, it is Tuesday.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Just panic choose a movie with me, nerd.”

“I don’t ‘panic choose’ anything,” Logan said. “I-”

“You do today,” Virgil interrupted.

“I…”

“Choose a letter.”

“…S?”

“Great!” Virgil dragged him off in the direction of the movies that started with ‘S’.

 “This is just… gross,” Virgil said a little under an hour and a half later and about an hour into the film.”

“It is a random romantic comedy from 2002,” Logan responded. “What did you expect?”

 “Yeah, but there’s weird sex jokes and actors that are probably from Mars and then there’s actual on screen physical abuse between the romantic couple.”

“I will concede that point,” Logan said, “but I will remind that this could have all been avoided if you had allowed me to do proper investigation of the movie choices before renting it.”

“Ugh, yeah, yeah,” Vigil replied, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “Just turn it off.”

Logan complied, reaching over to eject the DVD from his computer. The three roommates didn’t actually have a DVD player connected to their TV, so they’d chosen to use the desktop computer in Logan’s room.

 Virgil was laying on Logan’s bed with Logan sat propped up against the headboard. Logan leaned over to peer down at him. “Thanks for helping distract me,” he said. “Despite the fact that we now know more about what we’re doing, I still get worried about sending Patton through time. His last time travel experience didn’t improve my confidence. I have been… rather nervous.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help, at least a little,” Virgil replied.

“You did,” Logan replied. “A lot.” His hand reached down to touch pat his shoulder, but then lingered there for a moment too long.

 Virgil sat up suddenly and Logan had to jerk back to keep their heads from colliding. “I…” Virgil choked out once he was sitting up. “Um…”

Logan’s mouth curled into a half smile. He offered a hand and Virgil took it.

Virgil glanced at the hand. “I, uh, I am an anthropologist.”

“I am aware,” Logan said with a raised eyebrow.

“And, uh, you were born in this time, so technically I’m studying you…”

“I’m a time traveler, Virgil,” he said amused. “I doubt I am a pure specimen for any studies you may be doing.”

“Right,” Virgil said. “That’s a good point. You’re right.”

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There was a pause. “So then,” Virgil said. “No moral quandaries. Just two people sharing a bed and watching a romance movie.”

“It was a bad one.”

“It really, really was,” Virgil said with a grin and then Logan was leaning forward and Virgil’s hand was on Logan’s shoulder.

And then the door was flinging open. “I’m home!” Roman declared as Virgil scrambled back, banging his head on the bed’s headboard.

“Fuck,” Virgil hissed.

“Roman! You need to knock!”

“Since when?” Roman asked, plopping down on Logan’s bed between them.

“Since we have a guest,” Logan said meaningfully. Virgil hid his reddening face in his hands, curling into as tight of a ball as he could.

“You were both in here, it’s not like one of you were naked,” Roman said flippantly. Virgil debated the merits of staying curled up in a ball for the rest of his life. There was a second of silence, and Virgil was glad he couldn’t see the expressions on their faces from his ball when Roman said, “Oh my god!”

 Chapter 50

The breakfast table was silent the next morning. Though if one could call it a breakfast table when Logan was only drinking a cup of tea, Roman was chewing on a slice of unbuttered, untoasted bread, and Virgil was still either asleep or avoiding them both in Logan’s bedroom was debatable.

“…Look,” Roman said.

“We aren’t talking about it.”

“How was I supposed to know the two of you were getting it on?! Put a sock on the door next time or something. It’s common courtesy!”

“We weren’t having sex,” Logan hissed. Roman opened his mouth. “Shut up and learn to knock,” Logan said, pointing his spoon at him threateningly.

 Yet, still, because it was Roman, the other man opened his mouth again. Luckily, before he could say anything else on the matter, there was a loud crack from the living room.

“I’m going to need a towel please!” Patton called.

“I’ve got it,” Roman said instantly, jumping to his feet, leaving Logan to walk to the living room.

“Why are you wet?” Logan asked immediately upon taking in the sight of his roommate. He was soaked, water dripping from his form like he’d just gotten out of a pool seconds before.

“There was an ocean in the church,” Patton said.

 “What?” Logan asked.

Patton pushed his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “The time distortions were a lot more intense than ones we’ve seen before,” he said. He held out a small innocuous appearing device whose only mechanism appeared to be a switch to him. “Be really careful with that. It’s unstable and we might have damaged it getting out.” Patton winced and removed his timepiece. “Actually, speaking of that. This might need a checkup too.”

“Were there issues with the tech?” Logan asked taking both devices in his hand.

“…No,” Patton said looking a bit sheepish. “We just… may have turned off all of the safety protocols.”

 “Patton I just made this for you!” Logan said, horrified.

“And you did a really good job!” was Patton’s reply, “but we didn’t really want to drown in a church.”

Logan took a slow breath. “I’ll make sure it wasn’t damaged,” he said.

“Thanks, Lo!”

Roman entered the living room then, bright blue towel in hand. “I have returned bearing gifts!” he declared.

“My hero,” Patton said with a laugh, taking the towel and using it to wipe off his face and then start to dry his hair.

“So, an ocean in a church?” Logan asked.

Patton nodded. “I’ll have to thank Virgil for suggesting the inflatable raft.”

 He paused as he finished running the towel through his hair and started to dab at his clothing. “I saw Remus,” he said.

Roman froze. “You did?”

“Uh huh,” Patton replied. “He was with Janus. I didn’t think I should say anything to him since that trip was way out of sync though, sorry.”

“Yeah, no, that make sense. That’s fine.” Roman hesitated. “How was he?”

“He seemed good,” Patton said. He flashed them a smile. “Happy. He’s quite the character actually. He and Janus seem like they’re good friends.”

“Oh,” Roman said. “That’s… that’s good.”

Patton’s face screwed up slightly. “He did flirt with me though, so that was weird.”

 “He what?!” Roman practically screeched.

“It wasn’t particularly innocent flirting either,” Patton said, grimacing.

Roman took a moment to think about it before pulling a face that one would expect to see on a small child trying a lemon for the first time. “That’s disgusting! That’s like… that’s like my brother flirting with my brother. Gross!”

“It was… it was weird,” Patton said.

“What did he even say?” Roman asked.

“Mostly it was comments on my…” he made a motion with his head that apparently Roman could interpret.

“He talked about your butt!”

“…Well, he didn’t exactly use that word.”

 “That sounds about like Remus,” Virgil said, poking his head into the hall.

“Oh, you’ve finally decided to join the land of the living, Emo?” Roman asked.

“Shut up,” both Logan and Virgil said at the same time.

Of course, he did not. “You know, Pat-pat, speaking of posteriors…”

“One more word out of you and I will actually kill you,” Virgil threatened.

“Um, what’s going on?” Patton asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Roman promised.

“You will not,” Logan said. “Keep your gossiping tendencies under control.”

“Okay, but now I want to know,” Patton said with a pout.

“You go take a shower,” Logan ordered.

 Patton shared a look with Roman that told Logan there was no way he wouldn’t have the whole story along with a good number of embellishments by the end of the night. Then he shrugged. “Yes, boss,” he said. Logan rolled his eyes as he turned towards the bathroom, the towel still on his shoulders. He was dry enough that he wasn’t dripping anymore, and he slipped off his waterlogged shoes and socks so he wouldn’t track water to the bathroom.

“Put that in the biohazard hamper,” Logan called after him.

“I know!” he called back.

“And you,” Logan said to Roman, “clean up all of the water he got on the carpet in the off chance there are any pathogens in it.”

 “Why do I have to do it?!”

“Because you’ve annoyed me,” Logan said, “and I need to insure these two devices do not explode.”

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Roman said, dipping back into the hall.

Virgil glanced over at him, the picture of awkwardness. “Uh,” he said. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Logan said.

“…Are those things really at risk of exploding right now?” he asked.

Logan glanced at him. “Technically they are always at least slightly at risk of exploding, but admittedly the chance is further from 0 than I would like it to be at this point.”

“Great,” Virgil said. “One more thing to be anxious about.”

 “You don’t need to be anxious about it, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Uh, I think I do need to be anxious about the maybe bomb in your hands.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Virgil said with a sigh.

“We are two mutually consenting adults. There isn’t any shame to it.”

“Can we please talk about our very embarrassingly interrupted kiss after you’ve dealt with the explosives?”

“Very well,” Logan said. He walked to the other side of the room to grab a statis chamber from a cabinet drawer.

“What’s that?” Virgil asked as the cube shaped device popped up.

 “It’s a stasis cube,” Logan said as he put the two devices in his hand into it and activated. “It will allow them to cool down completely from their earlier use in a safe environment. It will be less dangerous to work with them later.”

“If it just takes 5 seconds to deal with them, why are you making Roman clean up?” Virgil asked amused.

“Like I said,” Logan said. “He annoyed me. Speaking of,�� he glanced into the hallway where Roman currently was. “How do you feel about leaving before he gets back to get coffee.”

Virgil smiled at him. “Sure,” he said. “Escape the apartment for coffee part two.”

 Chapter 51

It took a few days after Patton got home for Logan to first make sure the timepiece and the distortion device were not at a risk of exploding and then to study the distortion device.

“It’s similar to what little we’ve seen of TPI technology,” Logan had mused, sitting on the couch while studying the information he’d managed to get off of it. “It’s definitely derived from the same technology unlike my time travel device, but it looks a bit different, and this version at least is rather shoddily made. Of course, creating disorder and almost ripping apart time is easier than seamlessly moving through it.”

 “So, they’re probably from my time then?” Virgil asked.

“Most likely,” Logan agreed. “Though it could always be a Remus situation where they were from another time originally but accidently ended up in the TPI time. Either way, the origin of their purposeful time travel was certainly around your time.”

Virgil glanced at the device he’d set on the table in front of them all. It looked innocent sitting there, but it had the power to destroy so much, and they didn’t even know why. “Do you think whoever made this trapped me here on purpose?” Virgil asked.

“It would be a big coincidence if you in particular got trapped in this time in particular,” Roman said.

 “I was thinking the same thing actually,” Logan said. “You do work with the TPI and with Janus, a time agent who both often is caught in the middle of devices similar to this being used and who runs into Patton frequently. Plus you know Remus, Roman’s brother even if we didn’t know that connection before you were trapped here and we already had a correspondence before you landed here. It would be strange for you to have ended up here on accident.”

“But why?” Virgil asked. “I am somehow connected to all of you, but I’m still not a time agent myself.”

 “All I am to the TPI is a walking history book. I’m not actually involved.”

“Well,” Logan said. “Perhaps someone knows something we don’t.”

“Or maybe it’s just a happy accident!” Patton said. Virgil highly doubted that and it made anxiety churn in his gut.

“Well,” Logan said, “accident or not, we do now have a solution to the issue. I’ve managed to use this device to recalibrate my calculations and we’ve gotten a ping. I know where the signal blocking Virgil’s time device is coming from.”

“Where?” Roman asked.

“It looks like a local trash dump,” Logan replied. “It must have just ended up in a trashcan that day and was emptied before we checked.”

 “Well, that should be easy enough to get,” Patton said. “Give Roman and I the exact coordinates and we can go and get it now.”

“Wait, why are we the only ones who have to dig through a garbage dump?” Roman asked.

Patton gave him a look.

“Oh,” Roman said, eyes lighting up. “Oh right!” Then, he scowled remembering he was going to be going through a garbage dump. “Fine,” he sighed.

“Think of it as an adventure!” Patton said.

“We’re time travelers. We have so many more exciting adventuring opportunities than dumpster diving, Pat-Pat,” he whined, but he still got up. “I’ll go get changed.”

 Patton stood up and handed Logan his phone, so Logan could program the location of the distortion device into it while he changed as well. “We’ll text you when we’re heading back! I’ll give you a 15- and 5-minute warning,” Patton said with a wink. Virgil immediately hid his face in his hands.

“Do you think the TPI is hiring?” Logan asked as the door closed. “I’d love to move to a different century without those two.”

“Time agents don’t usually live in 4500s,” Virgil said, face still hidden behind his hands. “They’d probably still place you in this century, especially since you’re comfortable here.”

“No escaping them then,” Logan sighed.

 “Mmm,” was Virgil’s response.

He felt Logan shift on the couch next to him and a warm palm touched his wrist, gently tugging his hand away from his face in a way that Virgil could resist if he really wanted. Virgil let the hand fall with a sigh. Logan smiled at him when he could see his face and Virgil smiled back despite how he could still feel heat in his cheeks.

“You will be going home this evening, I’d imagine,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed softly.

“I would like to give you a gift before you go, if you’ll allow it.”

 “Uh, okay,” Virgil agreed.

Logan nodded and leaned back to grab something out of the pocket of a jacket that was currently hanging over the side of the couch. “Ah,” he said when he found whatever he was looking for. He glanced at Virgil. “It is a ring, by the way, but this is not a proposal.”

“Well, I’d certainly hope not,” said Virgil dryly. “An impulse elopement would be a little off brand for us both.”

Logan smiled at him. “Very true,” he agreed. Then, he opened his palm revealing a small ring.

“So, then, what is it?” Virgil asked.

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“It is an emergency time travel device,” Logan explained. “It’s not particularly complex. It can only take you here to this room between 2 weeks and one year from now, but if you ever need something from me, you can use it.”

He offered the ring and Virgil opened his palm to let him put it in his hand. He studied the ring for a moment. It was a rose gold and very light.

“It also has some security measures,” Logan said. “It wouldn’t do to make an emergency time travel device that someone else might easily try to take from you. It’ll disappear when you put it on. You’ll still be able to feel it and take it off whenever you wish. It’ll become visible again if you take it off.”

 “An invisible ring?” Virgil asked, curious.

“Yes,” Logan said with a smile. “It is designed to store your space time coordinates for up to 48 hours just so you’re aware, but as I said you can take it off whenever you wish and… I won’t use it against you.”

Virgil looked at him. “Okay,” he said. “Can I put it on?” Logan nodded, and Virgil slipped it on his finger. As promised it disappeared from view as soon as he did. He could still feel the weight of it on his finger though.

“You turn it three times counterclockwise to activate it,” Logan said, making Virgil look up from the seemingly empty space on his finger he’d been staring at.

  “It would drop you right about where you are sitting.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said. It wasn’t nearly enough to say how much he appreciated the gift, but he hoped his tone said enough.

“Don’t use it against me?” Logan asked with a half-smile, and Virgil realized just how much trust was being put onto him by giving him a device that was directly linked to their base of operations despite knowing Virgil worked with the TPI.

Virgil shook his head. “I won’t,” he said. Deciding to throw out his nervousness and embarrassment over last time he shot forward to kiss Logan quickly on the lips. They bumped noses and Logan’s glasses ended up askew in the process, but Logan didn’t seem to mind judging by his delighted laugh when they parted.

“Thank you,” Virgil said again.

“Of course,” Logan replied.

 Virgil could still feel the ring on his finger even after Patton and Roman got back from the dump with the device that had caused this whole mess. He could still feel it when Logan turned it off and his time piece reactivated. He could still feel it there when he made it home and gave an excuse as to why he’d left his trip early. He could still feel it when he got an email from an unknown sender making sure he got home okay.

  Arc IV: (To Be Named)

Chapter 52

“What’s this?” Janus asked when a giant bowl was set on the coffee table in front of him.

“We’re eating on the couch tonight,” Emile said cheerfully.

Janus raised an eyebrow and switched off the tablet he’d been using to look at him. “Why?” he asked.

Emile shrugged and set a second huge bowl down next to Janus’s. “For fun,” Emile said. He turned back towards the kitchen and Janus leaned forward to look in the bowl. It was spaghetti with some sort of creamy sauce and a few different vegetables mixed in along with some shrimp.

“I made green tea,” Emile said, coming back into the room with two mugs.

 “Thanks,” Janus said, taking one of the mugs with a small smile.

“What were you doing?” Emile asked as he took a seat beside Janus. He nodded at the deactivated screen now sitting on the end table.

“Just doing some puzzle games,” Janus said.

“That sounds fun,” Emile said with a smile.

“Head doctor said they might be a good thing to do to pass the time when I told him to fuck off after suggesting reading.”

Emile sighed. “Dr. Figueroa is my colleague. You could try to be polite.”

“I thought I was supposed to be my authentic self in therapy,” Janus replied.

 Emile just huffed and rolled his eyes. Janus couldn’t help but smile as he picked up his mug of green tea.

The last few months had been…different. In a lot of ways, Janus’s life had become harder than it had been before. It had been easy to do nothing but eat pre-prepared meals, go to work, and pass out in his empty house every day. It wasn’t good for him. He’d known it even then, but it had been easy. This was not.

Emile had offered, insisted really, that Janus move into his house for a bit just to get back on his feet.

 He’d taken time off of the TPI which would have been given to him anyway since he’d spent so trapped in the past. He’d had to give a report of what had happened, and he’d mentioned Patton, but he hadn’t mentioned everything. They’d offered him a shrink when he’d asked.

Janus had told Emile he needed to tell him something about why he’d been distant, so he wouldn’t end up chickening out, but he’d asked for a bit of time to figure out what to say. He’d finally worked up the courage to talk about it with Dr. Figueroa two weeks ago. Much like with Patton, it was easier to talk to someone who hadn’t been involved in Janus’s mistake, but it still wasn’t easy.

 He was running up on the deadline he’d given for having that talk with him. It had to happen soon, and they both knew it, but Emile was just patiently waiting for him to suck it up. It felt… wrong to use his kindness without him knowing, but it was also nice to get to spend time with his brother. He didn’t even dare to hope that he’d still have the chance once he told him.

He was moving back into his own house in less than a week. He’d tell him then so if Emile ended up kicking him out of his life, he wouldn’t have to kick him out of his home too.

 For now, though everything was fine. Harder, more complicated, and in threat of exploding at any moment, but fine. Fine wasn’t something he’d really felt in a long time. Or at least, fine while in his own time wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time. There’d been a few moments with Patton sitting next to the fire outside the hole in the ground they’d slept in for those few months where the man would turn to look at him and he’d felt fine. Yet, Patton had been right. Those moments were unsustainable with how Janus was actually feeling deep down.

 “This is good,” Janus said, after taking a couple of bites of the pasta in front of him.

“Well, I always was the only one in the house that could cook,” Emile said, and that was true. “It was either learn to defend for myself or eat a cheeseburger for every meal.”

“Hey, I had a good burger seasoning.”

“Not for every meal, Janus.”

“Meat, dairy, bread. What more could you want?”

“Vegetables, Janus.”

“You could have put pickles on!”

“I don’t like pickles.”

“That sounds like your problem, not mine,” Janus argued.

Emile shook his head, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “How have you been surviving on your own?”

 “Well, I mean,” Janus said. “Badly.”

“Right…” Emile said. He leaned over to bump their shoulders together. Janus flashed him a smile.

“Speaking of,” said Janus. “Could you physically force me to pack tonight? I meant to do it today and instead I ended up playing puzzles games.”

Emile chucked. “Sure, I’ll help you after dinner.”

“You don’t have to help me,” said Janus. “Just make me do it.”

“Maybe I want to help,” said Emile.

“Oh, yes, packing. The most entertaining of Thursday night activities.”

Emile hummed and then glanced at him. “Remember when you helped me pack for college?” he asked.

 “Mmm, I do,” Janus replied.

“I was so stressed about going somewhere new,” Emile said, “that I avoided packing for weeks. Every time Mom would ask me how packing was going, I’d tell her it was going fine but in reality, I hadn’t even started. You’d come home two days before I had to leave because you were going to help me move into my dorm. It’s like you could sense no packing had been done the moment you stepped through the front door.”

“You were doing your ‘hiding the broken horse statue from mom’ shuffle,” Janus said with a smirk.

 “Well, you walked me straight to my room and we packed everything up in those two days,” Emile said. “You made it so much easier.”

“Yeah, because I hovered over you until you did it and did half of it for you,” Janus snorted.

“It wasn’t just that,” Emile said. “You also found the music streaming station run by the university and put that on and talked about what your freshman year was like. You also had tips on what things I should and shouldn’t pack when moving into the dorm.”

“You still took all of the cartoon stuffed animals despite my advice.”

 “I thought there’d be more space on the bed,” Emile frowned.

Janus snorted.

“But anyway, just having someone else around made me happier. It wasn’t just about the workload being halved either. You being there made me feel less lonely and reminded me I’d always have someone to come back to.”

Janus internally winced. He was sure Emile hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty in any way. In fact, he probably was trying to do the opposite, but him saying that just reminded Janus that it hadn’t been true. Janus had abandoned him for literal years and hadn’t been someone he could always come back to.

 Emile had proven himself to be at least close to who he was before Janus messed with time the few last months. There were a couple of differences here and there, and Janus could not be sure if they were from him changing time or from him avoiding his brother for the past three years and him naturally changing. Most memories they shared that Janus cautiously brought up or Emile mentioned on his own were consistent with what Janus remembered, but he hadn’t pushed too hard or dug too deep. It just made him feel more guilty about avoiding the man for so long.

 It made him want to ignore the man more, because it seemed every choice Janus ever made only hurt him.

…

Well, perhaps not the college radio station when helping an anxious 18-year-old pack up his childhood bedroom.

He should probably tell Emile that his words made him feel guilty because that was obviously not the intention and he’d want to know. He should probably apologize properly for leaving him alone for three years without an explanation. He should probably provide an explanation for those three years.

He should probably go see the head doctor again soon.

(He should probably stop calling Emile’s colleague who was in the same field as him a head doctor derogatorily in his head.)

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For now, he just glanced at Emile. “You’re trying to bully me into letting you help pack with logic, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Emile confirmed without remorse.

“Fine,” Janus sighed, “but only if you let me do the dishes for you.”

Emile took a long moment to consider the offer. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said, “but okay.”

“And no doing anything sneaky like getting bags ready for me on your own while I’m doing it or the deal is off,” Janus said.

“You always think of all possible loopholes, Janus,” Emile sighed.

There was a long silence.

“Agree, you prick,” said Janus.

“No promises,” Emile replied cheekily with laughter in his eyes, and things were good for a moment more.

 Chapter 53

Today Janus was moving into his house in 24th century for the second time in his life, and honestly, the house wasn’t going to look much different than it had when he’d first moved in. Janus had unpacked his things more at Emile’s house in the past almost 6 months than he had in the two and a half years he’d liven in his house. His house held clothes, bare bone furniture, and exactly one skillet from when he’d decided to be daring and tried to cook himself an egg. All he’d really customized for himself was the setting on the LXC device which controlled the lights, media across the home, and prepackaged food ordering and prepare.

 He almost felt embarrassed that his house was so empty. Emile, of course, knew that his mental health had been fucked, but the blankness of his house was a physical reminder of this fact especially considering how he used to keep house before all of this. He’d warned Emile about the fact that his house was empty, and he had said he understood, but still.

They gathered all of the luggage in a pile in Emile’s guest room. They’d had to get permissions from the TPI to allow Emile to travel to his house, and Janus went ahead and filed to give him permanent permission to travel there.

 The decision felt far too hopeful for someone who hadn’t had that conversation with his brother yet, but it had made Emile smile in the moment.

Emile took three of the bags and Janus took the rest. He waved his arm and selected the third saved location on the device. In a moment, he was standing in the living room of his dark, empty house.

…

His supposed to be dark and empty house. More of the lights were on than Janus had ever switched on himself, and half of the windows were open. (He didn’t even know some of those windows opened.)

 They were letting in the sounds of birds that made the lakeside their home as well as cool late fall breeze. There was also a racket coming from the kitchen. Emile was beside him a second after he himself had appeared. He looked around for a moment. “Did you leave it like this?”

“No,” Janus replied.

“Do you have squatters?” He had a security system from 2 millennia in the future on his house. He highly doubted it.

“I’m going to go check the kitchen,” Janus said, moving towards the noises coming from the other room.

He stopped in the doorway to his kitchen only to see Patton standing at his kitchen counter cutting up a carrot on a cutting board Janus didn’t think he owned, and if he did, it was buried in a box somewhere.

 “What are you doing?” Janus asked.

“Cooking!” was the immediate reply.

“In my house?” Janus asked. “How do you even know where my house is?”

“I may be just a little bit ahead of you,” Patton said with a wink while tapping the side of his nose.

Janus sputtered. “This is my house!”

“I know!” He said it so cheerfully while being a purposefully obtuse asshole that Janus could help but crack a smile and shake his head. He’d missed him after spending so long alone with him though he wasn’t go to admit that to him when he’d broken into Janus’s house to…

“Again, what are you doing?”

 “I’m making you soup.”

“Why?” Janus asked.

“Well,” Patton said. “I know it’s a bit of a rough time for you, so I thought I’d give you a nice welcome home present and what better present than food!” He smiled at him widely.

Janus looked closer at what he was making. “You’re trying to prove to me you can cook.” Patton frowned at him. “Have you considered I have had enough fish stew for a lifetime?”

“Nope!” he said. “It’s entirely different this time anyway. I have carrots!”

“I don’t like carrots,” Janus lied blandly.

“Liar!” Patton declared.

“No, I’m not,” Janus continued to lie.

 “I mean, that was definitely a lie,” Emile interjected from behind Janus. He was looking at them curiously. “Er, hello, who are you?”

“This is Pat,” Janus said.

“The illegal time traveler you’ve been tracking?” Emile asked with a questioning lilt to his tone.

“Ah, yes, well,” Janus said with a cough. “We came to an understanding when stuck in pre-history.”

“And now he is cooking you soup in your house?” Emile asked.

“I’ve long since stopped trying to make sense of him,” Janus grumbled.

“Well,” Emile said. “Hello Pat.”

“You can call me Patton,” he said easily. “I hope it’s nice to meet me, because I’ve already met you.”

 “We haven’t been meeting in the correct order,” Janus informed Emile. “So, he’s apparently already met you which will happen in your future. It is also something he shouldn’t be talking about,” he scolded. Patton took that with a shrug.

“I hate time travel,” Emile said, his nose scrunching up. “Isn’t life already confusing enough.”

Janus winced, not relishing the upcoming conversation with him about how confusing his life was now because of time travel.

“Don’t you work with the TPI too?” Patton asked.

“That doesn’t mean I like time travel,” Emile said. “I’m a stationary agent and I like that just fine.”

 “Time travel can be a bit complicated sometimes,” Patton acknowledged, “but I don’t think it’s all bad.” He finished chopping up the carrot and turned to put it in the self-regulating soup pot. Janus squinted at it. It was certainly not something Patton had in the 21st century. So, the question was. Had he gone out and bought time appropriate cookware before breaking into Janus’s house or had he gone through Janus’s storage to find it?

“You’re a free agent time traveler, right?” Emile asked.

“Depends on what you mean by free agent,” Patton said. “I have always worked with a group of people, and we have rules and procedures. It’s basically a time agency itself, just not the TPI.”

 “And you’ve met me before?”

“I have,” Patton confirmed, “but Janus is right in that I can’t say much more than that about it. In fact,” he said wiping off his hands on a towel hanging from his apron. (The apron was covered in cartoon squirrels and totted the phrase ‘I’m a nut for baking.’) “I should probably be getting out of here.”

“You’ve never been worried about us meeting out of order before,” Janus pointed out with a frown. He didn’t particularly want Patton to go even though the man had broken into his house and possibly went through his boxes of kitchen equipment.

 “Well,” Patton said. “There’s meeting wildly out of order, there’s meeting in order, and then there’s what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?” Janus asked alarmed.

Patton just shrugged with a smile.

“No, Patton, what are you doing?”

“Soup should be done in about an hour, but you can leave it on all day. I got a pot that’s fridge safe, so just shut it off and stick it in there before going to sleep.”

“Patton.”

“See you later! Bye!” He said and disappeared into thin air.

Janus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his brow. “Why is he like this?”

 “Janus,” Emile asked. “Why did your self-declared mortal enemy make you soup?”

“Because he’s an asshole, that’s why.”

“Uh huh,” Emile said, looking at him oddly.

“What?” Janus asked.

“What exactly happened when you were stuck in the past?” Emile asked.

Janus sighed. “A lot happened. A lot.” He glanced at the soup pot happily performing its function on his kitchen counter. ‘I hope it’s nice to meet me, because I’ve already met you,’ rang in his ears. Fucking Patton with his little hints about the future. It gave Janus just a bit of courage though knowing that Emile at least didn’t flee the continent after the conversation they had to have. He was at least around enough to meet Patton. “In fact,” Janus said. “It’s probably time I told you what happened. Everything that happened.”

 Chapter 54

They sat down in the living room. Janus let Emile have the couch and sat on one of the matching armchairs. There was a squeaky sound when he sat. The plastic covering the chair had been delivered in was still on it.

Emile had a pleasant, open but curious expression on his face and Janus suddenly had an idea what it felt like to be his patient.

“I,” Janus began after a moment, shifting uncomfortably on the squeaky chair. “I don’t know how to start this conversation. I talked about what I wanted to say and possible ways to say it with Dr. Figueroa, but I… I still don’t know.”

 “I guess I should start by saying that I did something horrible that I need to apologize for and I’m not sure if apologizing will even be enough. The problem is you don’t even know what that horrible thing is.” Janus stared at his feet. “So, first, I should probably explain what I did. I just don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe start with what happened before it,” Emile suggested. “Just lead up to it. It might help explain why whatever it was happened too.”

Janus took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “That day was just like most that I remember. We both woke up early. I was going to the TPI and you were going to where you worked your residency. We ate leftover pizza for breakfast because both of us were exhausted. You because it sucks to be a resident and me because I’d been working on a big case.”

 “I was getting frustrated with the case. That was my first mistake: being impatient and angry. It was just a thief, but a slippery one. She’d stolen a half-broken time piece and was using it to rob banks within about a 50-year time frame. I had an idea of where she might go, but no one would listen to me. Or at least,” Janus quirked a half smile, “that’s how I interpreted it. They said they’d look into my idea, but they were being extra cautious because of how close in the timestream her actions were to most of the agents’ lives.”

 “I was so tired of the case and so egotistical. I decided to check it out on my own without being cleared by the TPI. I went back in time without thinking of the consequences and that was the worst thing I’ve ever done.” Janus took a breath. “I’m not sure how, but somewhere in the course of my self-appointed mission…” He trailed off. He didn’t know how to say it. He really didn’t.

“What happened?” Emile asked when he didn’t continue.

“I…” and his next words probably sounded like crackly nonsense to Emile’s ears because he couldn’t get his thoughts straight and his tongue wouldn’t make the words right.

 “I don’t even remember living in that town or the fact that Mom used to work at that bank,” he choked out. “I didn’t think and I didn’t check and…” There was a long silence. “I erased you,” he finally managed to say in a whisper, but in the quiet of his barely lived in house, the words were loud.

There was more silence. “But I…” Emile said after a moment.

“I went back and fixed it,” Janus said, “but I… didn’t do a perfect job. I don’t even know how much I messed things up. It would have been one thing if it’d just been me. If it had just impacted my life, but I did it to you and I don’t even know how to start to apologize.”

 Nothing was said for a long moment. Janus didn’t look at him.

“…Huh,” Emile finally said.

Janus risked a glance at him. He didn’t look irate, but he did still look confused which was probably the reason for that.

“I’m sorry,” Janus said. It was really the only thing he could say at this point.

Emile tilted his head to the side. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt with slow circles. Since he was 15, Emile only cleaned his glasses with specially designed wipes, but he’d held onto the habit of cleaning his glasses with his shirt anytime he needed a moment to think. Janus wasn’t sure if Emile even realized he was doing it, but he knew it was a signal for Janus to be quiet for a few seconds.

 The glasses were perched back on Emile’s nose after a few seconds. “I think I remember that,” he said contemplatively.

“…What?” Janus asked, and he was no longer avoiding looking at Emile. He was now blatantly staring at him.

“Well, I didn’t know what it was,” Emile said, “but I did have a very odd dream on the day you mentioned and suspiciously I had said dream in the middle of the day and woke standing up.”

“A dream?” Janus asked.

“A very vivid dream,” Emile said. “I don’t believe you actually erased me completely from existence. My life was simply shifted slightly. I was working as a social worker for about 5 hours and then I was back in my appropriate place.”

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“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Janus asked, but then immediately wince at his own hypocrisy. “Er… never mind.”

“I didn’t know it was possibly real,” Emile said. “Honestly, I thought I was just really tired. I’d been overworking myself a lot. I took the rest of the day off after that.”

“You shifted reality for a few hours, and you didn’t realize it?” Janus asked.

“Like I said, I was really tired and nothing seemed to be wrong…”

“Wait, but things were different,” Janus said. “Didn’t you notice things were different.”

“Not… really,” Emile said. “Like what?”

“Like…” Janus said. “Like a whole bunch of things!”

 “Like…?”

“Like you had a different job title and you worked different hours.”

“I thought I’d fallen asleep standing up or had a vivid audio-visual hallucination at work from stress. I asked for a switch a couple of weeks later.”

“You used to hate time travel, but then you took a job at the TPI.”

Emile gave him a drawl look. “I still hate time travel,” he said. “I literally just said that not 5 minutes ago.”

“Well then why would you work for the TPI.”

“Because time travel is so confusing and distressing that people doing it on a regular basis as a career need psychological support.”

 “Plus, Lia asked for my consultation when developing the mental health part of the Agent Management Office,” Emile continued. “Considering I already knew quite a bit about time travel from being around you, she knew me personally, and I’d finished my residency, she decided to give me a job offer when my advice panned out.”

“W-well,” Janus said. “You were allergic to pineapples.”

“You mean my childhood allergy?” Emile asked. “That has since resolved itself in my adult life?”

“It has?” Janus asked.

“Janus have you considered,” Emile said, “that some if not all of the inconsistencies you were seeing in my life have to do with the fact that you hadn’t spoken to me in 3 years?”

 “I… uh… hadn’t considered that,” Janus admitted honestly.

“You were looking for information to support your incorrect world view,” Emile said sounding very much like a head doctor and not like a brother, “and you found some.” He sighed. “It makes sense after having faced a traumatic event where you effectively thought you’d killed a loved one that you weren’t thinking clearly.” The head doctor analysis voice slipped just a bit. “I just wish you’d talked about it with someone.”

“Sorry,” Janus said, because no matter which way this conversation had gone and no matter the revelations, the point was an apology. “I’m sorry.”

 Emile sighed. “I would have forgiven you even if you had erased me,” Emile said. “You didn’t mean to, and you did your best to fix it. You did fix it even if you were an idiot about it.”

“What about for being an idiot and not talking to you for three years?” Janus asked.

“I already did forgive you for that Janus,” Emile said pointedly. “What did you think the last 6 months were?”

“Pity?”

Emile gave him his disappointed and exasperated head shake. “Promise to never do anything like that to me again,” he said, “and I’ll forgive you.”

 “I promise,” Janus said immediately.

“And in the future, you’ll talk to me if you have any issue even if you think it’s horrible.”

“I think I’ve learned by lesson on that one.”

“And that goes for other people too,” Emile said. “If anything goes wrong with someone, you talk to them or if that’s too hard you talk to someone so they can convince you to talk to that person.”

Janus nodded.

“Great!” Emile said. “Then you’re officially forgiven for everything. Though I expect you to go to therapy and keep working on making yourself feel better, so these things don’t happen again.”

 And Janus… didn’t know how to feel about that. He should probably feel happy and thankful or at least relieved, but if he was being honest, he just felt kind of empty in that moment like an old well that had finally run dry. Fuck his head doctor and fuck Patton. Wasn’t this supposed to make him feel better? Everything was fine. He hadn’t actually erased Emile permanently from the timeline, in fact, he’d apparently still existed in some form in the alternate timeline Janus had temporarily made. Emile had forgiven him both for erasing him and ignoring him even though that was far more than Janus deserved. This was something he’d never even dared dream would happen, but it had been exactly what he’d wanted.

 Yet, he still didn’t feel good, not really, not like how he remembered feeling before all of this happened.

Though was that really a surprise? Things were not like how they were before. He and Emile were no longer close. There was love and affection there, but they didn’t really know each other. The last six months had been nice. He’d been able to pretend for a bit that everything was back to normal, but in the moments he hadn’t been able to pretend that, it’d been a bit stilted and awkward speaking to his brother especially at the start.

 Beyond that, Janus was just used to misery at this point. It was his default state. Not being miserable took effort and energy he didn’t always have. He felt himself slipping into sadness or numbness even during times he should be feeling good. He’d noticed himself experiencing a sense of desolation when Emile cooked his favorite meal or in the middle of watching a ballet performance Emile had suggested they go to and he’d been looking forward to in the days before or even now when he should be so happy, so ecstatic. Everything should be okay, but it wasn’t.

 “You doing alright over there?” Emile asked, and Janus didn’t know how long he’d been silent.

Instinct said to say yes and force himself to move on, but he wasn’t going to break his promise that fast. “Not really, no,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” Emile said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Why don’t we go taste the soup your arch nemesis,” there was a light teasing tone to his voice, “made for you. Some of the vegetables won’t be completely cooked yet, but I’m sure it’s already good.”

“Yeah,” Janus agreed. “Yeah, okay,” he got to his feet, the chair making that plastic squeaking sound again. “Maybe we could unwrap the furniture in here before you go home.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Emile said with a smile.

 Chapter 55

Somehow, the strangest thing about his life right now was a picture on the wall. It was one that he’d gotten after college when he moved into his first actual house. It wasn’t anything special. It was just something that had caught his eye when he was specifically looking for something classier to put on his wall than the posters he’d hung in his college dorm and apartment with Virgil. It was a tall painting of a tree, but segmented into four parts, each representing the state of a tree in different seasons. In the top left, the three had small leaves and little buds, on the top right it had full leaves bathed in sunlight, in the bottom left the leaves had changed colors and started to fall off, and in the bottom right the tree was devest of leaves but covered in snow.

 It was on the wall near Janus’s bed. It was one of the first things he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning and was usually what reminded him that everything was different now when he woke.

The picture had been in a box in the houses garage up until the Saturday before the last. Saturdays had become his and Emile’s unofficial unpacking Janus’s house day. They would usually pick one or maybe two boxes that had been sitting untouched for years, unpack it, talk, and eat dinner together.

Notably, dinner was usually not provided by either of them.

 Patton had gotten into the habit of breaking into Janus’s house. Janus would sometimes catch him doing it briefly, but often Patton managed to avoid him. This was quite the feat considering Janus was not currently working and thus stayed at home a lot of the time. Patton had repeatedly reprogrammed Janus’s kitchen taking away the option for pop tarts entirely and replacing the option with real food. Janus’s kitchen was constantly stocked with something to eat that wasn’t trash. He also liked to leave around different smelling hand soaps, flowers, and paper cranes. Janus had an entire drawer in his nightstand dedicated to storing paper cranes now.

 The newest one was still on his nightstand from the night before, sitting cheerfully in the way of his view of the tree paining when his alarm woke up that morning. He sighed. He had not missed getting up early for work.

He was finally going back to working at the TPI this morning. His therapist had signed off on it last week, saying his was fit for duty. Considering they were apparently still understaffed at the TPI and Janus was a senior agent, this was met with much relief. Janus himself still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

 He turned off the alarm and stood. Dr. Figueroa had him write out a morning schedule to follow when he’d expressed his struggle to get the day started. Either Patton or Emile had taken it upon themselves to copy the schedule on virtual sticky notes that appeared in every location necessary for getting ready in the morning.

First, he took a shower. He threw his nightclothes in the laundry chute. There were currently dozens of different scented soaps in his shower all in small bottles that had about 2 or 3 uses. Janus presumed they were curtesy of Patton. He decided to use one at random and it ended up being cotton candy scented.

 Next, he got dressed. That was easy enough since he always wore the same outfit to work every day. It didn’t matter what he wore much since missions would force him to redress anyway.

Then he went to his kitchen and sat down at the counter. He pushed the pop tart button. As expected at this point, he did not get a pop tart for breakfast. Instead, he got two eggs, toast, a sliced apple, and a few cherry tomatoes with green tea. He ate his breakfast while finishing one of the puzzles he’d been working on the night before.

 Once he finished, it was time to finally face going back to the office. He sighed, stood up and pulled up the screen on his timepiece. He selected his office as his destination and was off.

The first thing that happened upon appearing in his office was he got a face full of… something.

He sputtered, smacking the things fluttering about his face out of the air. “What is wrong with you?” was the first thing out of his mouth before he’d even really confirmed that the culprit of this attack was who he’d automatically assumed he was.

Remus, as anticipated was standing not 2 feet away from him.

 Remus had apparently gotten into the prop department again because he had some type of softly glowing glittery confetti was no all over Janus as well as their entire office.

“Remus, I told you no!” Lena snapped. “You know it’s impossible to clean up 3150s sparkle nukes.”

“Welcome back!” Remus crowed.

“I hate you,” Janus replied. “I just took a shower.”

“You’re fine,” Remus said with an eye roll.

“This shit doesn’t come off in decontamination,” Janus spat. “If my first mission back sends me to a time where I’ll be tried as a witch for glowing, I’m blaming you.”

 “We’re going to 2510,” Remus informed him. “You’ll fit right in.”

Janus grimaced. “Ugh, that decade.”

“It’s my favorite decade!” Remus exclaimed.

“Of course, it is,” Lena grumbled. “Just don’t bring anything gross back this time.”

“No promises,” Remus replied.

Janus chose to disengage from the conversation as Remus and Lena argued about was and what wasn’t allowed to be brought back to their shared office from what was well known as the least tasteful decade in history. It was also one of the least turbulent decades in history. The population was too busy making shitty ice cream flavors to wage war.

 At least they were giving him an easier assignment for his first time back. He turned to his desk and pulled up the files on his next mission, glancing through them. It was just a small blip that the TPI had noticed in a small town in 2510. It probably wasn’t much of anything, but they had no record of what had caused it, so they were going to send someone to look. Honestly, they’d usually just send in a surveillance agent and be done with it, but they’d probably handpicked this one for Janus in particular. He’d be insulted if he didn’t honestly still feel a bit off kilter being in the office.

 To his surprise, he didn’t have a scheduled meeting with Rhi. It wasn’t particularly important to see a mission coordinator for something this small, but it still wasn’t the usual protocol. Instead, he was just instructed to pick up his costume at the costuming department and leave in about an hour.

“Do we really not have an appointment with Rhi?” Janus asked.

“Senior agents haven’t really been meeting with Rhi unless it’s a high priority mission,” Lena told him. “We have too many newbies running around and there’s not time.

“That’s concerning…” Janus said.

“It’s better than trying to rush the inexperienced ones through. We at least have a general idea of what we’re doing. They’re trying to train up more mission coordinators, but that’s taking a while.”

 Janus still frowned, but he glanced back at the mission instructions. He’d have to make sure he thoroughly understood what was being asked of him before leaving if he wasn’t meeting with Rhi. “We should go get changed,” he told Remus. “2510s clothing is notoriously difficult to put on.”

“Five minutes back and he’s already dying to get my clothes off,” Remus said cheekily.

“I would rather tear my own eyeballs out of my socket than see you without your pants on again.”

Remus just wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” said Lena when Janus looked at her in exasperation. “He’s finally not Fred’s and my problem anymore.”

 Chapter 56

Getting ready for the mission was a bit of a mess honestly. The costume department barely even spared them a glance before sending them on their way. Remy at least was still there to give them one last debrief before sending them off into 2510, though he looked exhausted.

“Are you sleeping?” asked Janus.

“I’m drinking coffee,” was the reply as he shooed them out onto the streets.

The timeline disturbance that had been picked up was somewhere in one of the shops on that street.

“Do you want the bakery or the karaoke/stripper bar?” Remus asked.

Janus raised an eyebrow at him, and Remus clapped him on the back.

“This is why we’re partners,” he said.

 He plodded off towards the building to their right, and Janus turned to the building on the left. It was a small bakery and coffee shop painted in bright colors and sporting the Brazilian and Albanian flags.

There was a soft tinkling bell sound when he entered the shop, and the person behind the counter glanced over at him briefly before finishing putting a pastry in bag for a customer.

Unfortunately, their attention meant Janus wasn’t going to get away with snooping around the store without buying anything. He glanced around the interior of the shop as he walked up to the till.

 He glanced into the bakery display case the worker was standing behind. Oh… oh that all looked disgusting. He was not depressed enough anymore to willingly eat any of that.

“Uh,” Janus said when the worker looked at him. He glanced up at the wide selection of drinks over their head and winced at the ways the letters moved on the screen. He was pretty sure his dyslexia wasn’t quite that bad. Why did anyone choose to make letters move around and shake on purpose? As someone who had to deal with that on a daily basis, it wasn’t exactly entertaining.

 “Is it possible to get a banana and chocolate potato chip smoothie, but without the potato chip part?” he asked.

“Sure,” the worker replied. “Anything else?”

Janus shook his head.

“Can I have a name for that?”

“Jay,” Janus replied.

“Alright. It’ll be out in a minute.”

Janus nodded and turned, able to take in the rest of the establishment now that there weren’t eyes on him. It was as colorful on the inside as it was on the outside and seemed to have a retro cowboy-space theme mixed with posters from a contemporary werewolf romance movie. Janus had actually seen that movie one. It was surprisingly tolerable.

 The seats at least looked comfortable. There were a good number of tables and three couches. All of them were mix-matched. A few of the tables were outfitted with holographic chess and checkers, but most were normal tables. There were even a few physical boardgames and some bookshelves full of books, though he thought some of the bookshelves might just be there for decoration. He wasn’t sure which were and which weren’t.

He pretended to be very interested in the decorations as he waited on his drink, using that as an excuse to look around the entire shop. He was turned away when the door chimed again.

 “Hello,” a familiar voice said, making Janus turn around instantly. Janus could immediately tell that the man hesitantly lingering in front of the bakery display was not the Patton that he’d spent months holed up with or who had broken into Janus’s house repeatedly to replace his soaps and cook him meals. He seemed out of place which was saying something in 2510. He had the air about him that he was an 80-year-old grandpa trying to embrace youth culture, but not quite getting it. He also spoke in an accent that people around him would probably assume was him just not being fluent in Spanish but was actually him not being completely comfortable speaking Spanish from half a century ago.

 “Uh…” said Patton looking at the menu, a crease between his eyes.

“I’d suggest the banana and chocolate potato chip smoothie without the potato chips,” Janus said. Patton startled, whipping around to face him in surprise. “That’s what I got, though I would leave out the potato chips.”

Patton’s eyes narrowed on him. It was not, of course, the first time that Patton hadn’t been thrilled to see him, but it was the first time Janus had been happy to see him and he hadn’t been happy to see him in turn. Janus had gotten used to a Patton that liked him and he found himself not quite prepared for the way he pursed his lips in annoyance at the sight of Janus.

 “I’ll do the banana and chocolate potato chip smoothie, but with the potato chips,” he said in a way that made it sound like he thought he was getting one up on Janus for some reason.

“What flavor of chips?” the worker asked.

“Er, what flavors do you have?”

“Uh, I think drywall, oak wood, and limestone.”

Janus almost laughed at his expression. “Uh, do you have any naturally edible flavors?” he asked.

“We might have grass.”

Patton squinted as the worker bent to look under the cabinet. “Oh, wait, no, it’s glass. Is that alright?”

“…Maybe just no on the chips.”

 Janus did his best to school his features, so it wasn’t obvious he was laughing at him. He didn’t think he did a very good job considering Patton was glaring at him after turning around. That or he was just already pissed at Janus by default. It could go either way honestly.

“So,” Janus said when the worker turned away to start making Patton’s drink. “What are you doing here.”

“It’s none of your business,” Patton said with narrowed eyes.

“I mean, we could both be here for the same reason,” Janus pointed out. “We could share intel.”

“I doubt we’re here for the same reason.”

 “How would you know?” asked Janus.

Patton just looked away from him. He immediately looked confused at the movie poster his eyes landed on.

“Unless,” Janus said curiously, you aren’t here for a reason, reason.” Patton said nothing. “It was a pretty small disturbance, so it would make sense that your equipment might not pick up on it.” At least at this point. “Acting the tourist, Pat?”

“I’m just doing research,” Patton said, crossing his arms.

“Research?” Janus asked.

“I’ve never been here before,” Patton admitted. “I wanted to get a feel for it and other places just in case there ever was an issue.”

 “You just did France, didn’t you?” Janus asked.

Patton frowned and Janus smiled slightly. “It was recent,” he admitted.

“Well,” Janus said. “If you want some advice. I’d start with figuring out accents when you’re in different times.”

“I don’t need your advice,” Patton said and then smugly, “Janus.”

It took a bit for Janus to scan back through his memories and remember that Patton hadn’t known Janus’s name in France. He would have only figured it out after his friend Lo hacked into Silver Mountains University’s system and figured out Virgil had an appointment with him. Janus raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that, Patton?”

 He frowned, pouting like whenever Janus told him he wasn’t allowed to try to catch a bird and make it their pet. It was strange to meet a version of Patton who had not lived in a hole in the ground with him for months when Janus had already done that. Patton was on the back foot for once throughout this conversation. Every time before this, he’d managed to somehow twist it around even when he’d been younger than he was right now. When Janus had arrested him at the University, he’d managed to figure out his equipment wouldn’t be stopped by the TPI’s despite having no idea what the TPI was.

 In France, even when Janus had thought he’d been winning by taking his phone, he ended up getting access to a University in Janus’s time with information on the TPI, a situation that still had not been resolved.

Today, however, Janus knew far more about Patton than Patton expected. He still didn’t know exactly what his agency or whatever it should actually be called did, but he knew some things about it. He knew Patton was from the 21st century which explained the anachronisms in his speech in different times.

“You could help me look if you’d like,” Janus offered casually.

 “Why?” Patton asked suspiciously.

Janus shrugged. It was not because he missed him, he insisted to himself. It wasn’t because after spending so much time with him, not getting to talk with him all day was strange. It had nothing to do with the fact that the few times he’d ran into a farther along version of Patton since he’d moved back home, their interactions had been brief and tinged with something. No, the only reason Janus was inviting him along was so he could teach this younger version a few things, so he hopefully didn’t go about messing up time. “We worked well together in France, didn’t we?” he asked. “Besides, it’s just a small mission without much danger to the timeline.”

 “Pat,” the person at the counter called. Patton turned to him to go grab his smoothie, thanking the worker before turning back around and walking over to Janus.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll help, but you have to answer my questions.”

“I’ll answer the questions that won’t endanger any timelines or secrets of my agency.”

Patton considered it for a moment, taking a sip of his drink. “Fine,” he agreed.

“Good,” Janus replied. “We’ll start by looking around the coffee shop for anything unusual. Did you have any questions now. It’d look more natural to be walking around if we were having a conversation.”

“Does the glitter in your hair have to do with the style of the time or…?”

Janus sighed.

 Chapter 57

Luckily, the cashier didn’t seem to think them snooping around was very odd. To be fair, the shop had quite a few odd decorations to look at. So, perhaps employees were just used to people walking around and looking at all of the different things. It helped that Janus and Patton were talking as they searched. They just looked like a couple… of friends… casually chatting and exploring the coffee shop together.

“So,” Patton said, keeping his voice quiet, though luckily the few patrons were on the other side of the shop. “What exactly is it that you do working for the TPI?”

 “Well,” Janus said. “I’m a senior field agent. That means I am the person who actually goes on missions in different times. These missions can range from tracking down people who are committing crimes using time travel, stopping anything or anyone that could damage the timestream, and helping waylaid time travelers.”

“So, there are different types of agents?” Patton asked, curiously.

“Yes,” Janus replied. “There are a lot, but only four type time travel on a regular basis.” Should he be telling a very young version of Patton this? Probably not, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much.

 “There are surveillance, touchdown, field, and cleanup agents,” he explained. “Surveillance agents do a bunch of things including research about the exact time field agents are going to and figuring out the best places for them to enter the timestream. Touchdown agents come slightly before field agents to do last second checks and stay when field agents are out. They mostly are just there to intervene if there are any unforeseen issues. Field agents actually interact with people from other times on a daily basis as they slip into the timestream and find whatever person or object they’re looking for. Cleanup agents come in afterwards and tie up any loose ends as well as observe the area for a few days to make sure nothing happened that no one caught.”

 “Everyone else who works at the TPI is mostly in research and management. They don’t usually travel, though everyone who works there is licensed to travel if necessary.”

“That’s a lot of people,” Patton commented.

“What we do is important. We want to make sure we are doing it correctly.” It was honestly not meant to be a jab, but Janus could see Patton frown. He decided to change the subject. “Right now, we’re looking for something that’s causing a small disturbance.”

“What type of thing could cause a disturbance? Is it always a machine like the one in France?”

“No,” Janus replied. “That was actually unusual.” He thought for a second. “At least that used to be unusual, but lately we’ve seen more and more of that sort of thing.”

 They were currently standing at a bookshelf, but nothing pinged Janus’s interest or time piece, so they moved on to look at a few of the movie posters. Patton seemed to grow more and more concerned the longer he looked at the posters.

“So, what is it usually?”

“Well,” said Janus. “Some things are natural events. No one’s really sure what causes those. There are theories, but I’m not really involved in that. We leave those alone for the most part if we find those. They’re usually small things, though on occasion they’re a bit bigger. Usually, time disturbances are caused by someone messing up. They say something wrong that gets someone curious and creates a butterfly or they leave an object that doesn’t exist in the time.”

 “So, what do you think this one is?” Patton asked curiously.

“Well,” Janus said. “It’s a rather small disturbance, so it won’t be anything too major. Probably just an object out of place.”

“Hmm,” Patton replied. “Well, I’ve always been good at those find the difference games.”

“Have you now?” Janus said, unable to stop a slight grin from ghosting over his face.”

“Mhmm,” replied Patton. He drained the rest of his smoothie and then turned around, facing away from the wall of posters they’d been looking at. He slowly scanned the room, an action a lot less inconspicuous than what Janus had them doing, but he didn’t protest for now.

 “That’s weird,” Patton declared, pointing rather obviously at a shelf. Janus noticed a woman looking at him funny. “Well,” Patton continued. “More like it isn’t weird, which is weird for here.”

Janus glanced at the shelf full of small figurines. Most of them were of mythical creatures: werewolves, dragons, and even one not even Janus recognized. Janus would guess, especially judging by the plethora of movie posters that they were all from movies or something of the like. However, Patton was correct there was one that stuck out from the rest. It was still a figurine, but unlike the rest, it was of a real animal: a cow.

 “That is odd,” Janus agreed, peering at the cow. Figuring Patton had already been obvious enough, Janus stepped over to the shelf to study it more closely. When looking at it more closely, it became obvious that the cow was very unlike everything else on the shelf. It wasn’t even really a figurine like the ones around it. It looked more like a children’s toy. It’s fur was made out of a soft looking material instead of the stiff plastic of the werewolf next to it.

“It doesn’t really fit in with the collection, does it?” a voice asked from behind Janus.

 Janus winced internally at the fact that a civilian had just noticed him acting oddly, but kept his face smooth externally as he turned to face the woman standing behind him.

“My friend and I were wondering what it was from,” Janus said evenly. “We recognized the rest of the figures, but I’m not sure where this one came from.”

“Well, that’s because it didn’t come from anything,” the woman said. “At least that I know of. I just didn’t know where to put the thing, so I put it on my movie figurine shelf.”

“Ah,” said Janus, a politely interested crinkle to his brow. “Where did you get it then?”

 “A young kid came by about, oh, a week ago. He looked like a high school kid or maybe college. He seemed right confused and upset. He said he didn’t have any money on him, and got weird when I tried to ask him about his parents. I ended up giving him a free drink and let him sit here for a couple’a hours. We got to talking about my collections. See, I have a deal that if someone brings me back something of interest for my displays, they get a free drink. He insisted on giving me that in exchange for the drink even though I told him I’d given him the drink ‘cause he seemed upset.”

 “I don’t even particularly want the thing, but he said he didn’t want it anyway, and he insisted, so I took it.”

“Interesting,” Janus said. “Do you mind if I touch it?”

“Go ahead,” she said with a shrug.

He reached forward to pick up the cow and felt the softest of fizzles that only someone who regularly time traveled would feel. Despite already knowing this must be what he’d come for, he still subtlety set his timepiece to scan it.

 Patton was peering over her shoulder now. “If both you and the person who gave it to you don’t care much about it, do you think we could buy it off of you?” he asked. “I’m a big fan of cows.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess,” she agreed. “If you really like it. I don’t know what else I’d do with it.”

“How much?” Janus asked.

“Well it only cost me a Lemon CastelWalk and a scone, so about 12.”

“Sure,” Janus agreed, pulling out his wallet and forking over the currency. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” she replied. “Hope you can find some use for it.”

 Janus gave her a smile and then looked at Patton. “I think it’s about time to go, don’t you think.”

Patton nodded. “Thank you for the cow statue,” he told the woman as they left the shop. They walked a bit down the street. Patton turned to him once they were out of sight of the shop window. “So, that’s it?” he asked.

Janus nodded and checked his time piece which had finished it’s scan. “The fabric is from the late 43rd century,” he confirmed, “but that’s not all. It’s stranger than that.”

“Stranger how?” Patton asked.

“The materials are definitely from the 43rd century,” Janus said, “but it’s not from the 43rd century.”

“What do you mean?”

 “This,” Janus said, looking at the cow. “This doesn’t exist. Every object has traces of where it’s been no matter how much you clean it. My timepiece can register debris sticking to an object down to the microscopic level and give a general idea where and when they came from. There’s no time travel residue implying it came from the 43rd century or even just dust or dirt from that time period. There isn’t even anything on it from this time period from more than the week the shop owner said it was in her possession. My scans seem to be saying, this thing popped into existence a week ago and didn’t exist in any time or place before that.

Patton frowned. “Well then, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” answered Janus frowning down at it. “I have absolutely no idea.”

 Chapter 58

Janus didn’t know what to make of the cow he’d gotten in 2510. He’d said goodbye to the young version of Patton and grabbed Remus before heading back to the TPI. He’d immediately handed the time anomaly over to the labs, but even after a few weeks, he hadn’t heard anything back yet. The labs seemed just as stumped as he was.

The older version of Patton still drifted in and out of his life, usually unseen, like a ghost in the night. Well, a ghost that cooked him plenty of healthy food.

It felt odd slipping back into his old routine of missions.

 Sometimes it felt like no time had passed, but then he’d see the faces of new recruits or get a mission where he didn’t see Rhi and remember that things were different now. The TPI was strained, constantly running after time distortions with no idea what or who was causing them. The new recruits were stumbling to catch up to the agents who knew what they were doing but were still needed to fill the gaps. It made Janus grimace, but he didn’t know what the solution was.

It was nice to be able to talk to Emile about these things.

 If Patton made sure he was taking care of himself at home with nice meals and an ever-changing option of soaps and shampoos, Emile made sure he was taking care of himself at work. Janus was now forced to have a water bottle at his desk to make sure he wasn’t spending the day dehydrated and, assuming he was not on a mission, Emile would either drag him away to eat lunch or bring lunch too him if he was too busy. Today was the later kind of day. Emile had messaged him about 45 minutes ago asking if he was free and then had taken his order for a local restaurant when Janus said he had too much to do.

 There was a knock on the door and both Fred and Janus, the only two occupants of the office at the moment looked up.

“I’ll get it,” Janus said, getting up before Fred did. He knew Fred was currently in the middle of a report on a trip to 2000B.C. he and Lena went to. They’d let a new recruit tag alone for training purposes. It had gone badly to say the least. Fred looked exhausted and stressed which was unlike the usually cheery man.

Janus shuffled to the door and opened it. A man in his early 30s that Janus didn’t recognize was standing there.

 “Hi,” he said. “I, uh, moved into the office next door. My name is Dave.”

There was a moment of silence. “Did you need something Dave.”

“Right,” he said. “Yeah, I was just wondering if your integrator is running, because mine isn’t.”

Janus glanced back at the report he’d been working on. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Well, is it, like, connecting to the TPI system?”

“I don’t know,” said Janus, “I was working locally.”

“Yeah, well that’s the problem with mine. I was wondering if anyone else was having the same problem.”

“Let me check,” said Janus, walking over to his desk. He went to open his email and an error message popped up.

 That was… odd to say the least. The TPI had very, very reliable technology. If it was just Janus who could not access the system, he’d assume it was just a local problem, but if the next door neighbor also was having an issue, that could smell trouble.

“Fred,” Janus called. “Are you connected to the internet?”

Fred glanced down at his computer and clicked a couple of buttons. “No,” he said.

“Hmm,” Janus said. He pulled up his timepiece. That at least connected to the TPI servers, so the servers themselves weren’t down, just the offices’ connection to them. “Well, I can still connect with my timepiece.”

 “Same,” said Fred.

“So, what’s wrong?” Dave asked. “How do we fix it?”

“We don’t fix it,” Janus said. “We submit a tech support request.”

“Oh,” said Dave. “…How do you do that?”

Janus sighed and flicked his wrist to project a screen. “If you go to the web on your timepiece, it’s literally on the page that automatically pops up,” he said pointing.

“We can connect to the internet through our timepieces?” Dave asked.

“…Did you have any training?” Janus asked.

“Don’t be rude,” Fred said absently, still typing on his report.

Janus just rolled his eyes.

“Not on… that part. They did give me a handbook.”

 “Have you read it?” Janus asked.

Dave shrugged which told Janus everything he needed to know.

“Just go back to your office,” Janus told Dave. “I’ll submit the tech support request this time since it’s affecting me as well but read your handbook and familiarize yourself with your timepiece for goodness’s sake.”

“Okay,” Dave said, turning around and wandering back to his office with no thoughts in his eyes.

“I’m not your fucking preschool teacher,” Janus muttered under his breath as he returned to his desk. “It’s not my job to hold your hand and wipe your ass.”

Fred glanced up at him. “Thanks for not saying that when he was still in the room,” he said.

Janus shot him a thumbs up.

 He sat down at his desk and quickly submitted a tech support request. By the time he finished that, Emile was knocking on the door with a bag of food.

“Come in,” Janus said to him, and he did, pulling over Remus’s chair and plopping down the food on Janus’s desk.

“You look stressed,” Emile commented.

Janus sighed, already reaching into the bag to look at what Emile had bought. “Everything’s disorganized, everything’s broken, and no one knows how to do anything.”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “I’ve noticed the TPI is understaffed. Even with all of the new recruits, there never seems to be enough people to go around.”

 “Yeah,” Janus said, pulling out a burger on a pretzel bun and going to unwrap it. “How about you? This all been messing up your job too?”

“In general, for the AMO, yes, because they have to get all of the new agents houses and everything. For my department, not as much, but we are seeing some agents getting stressed because they’re overworked. Mostly the more senior agents.”

“Honestly, I’m lucky stress makes me throw myself into work to avoid thinking about it. I shudder to think how all of the mentally healthy people are holding up.”

“Janus,” Emile scolded.

 “Plus, I’m already set up to have an appointment with a head doctor at least twice a week, so I’m good on that front.”

“I guess that’s true. Just don’t overwork yourself,” Emile said.

“I’m fine Emile. Plus, they need me. I seem to be one of the few people around here who actually know what they’re doing.”

“I just worry…” he said.

“I can handle it well enough,” Janus promised. “I’ve got the toolkit or whatever the head doctor calls it. Plus… work wasn’t ever actually the problem.”

“I know. I know…Just…you aren’t even taking lunch.”

“I have a bit more time free in the afternoon,” Janus said.

 “I was just in the middle of something today. If you’re free for a half hour or something, we could get a cup of coffee. How about that? Would that assuage your worry about me a least a bit?”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “Yeah, it would a bit. I have a break at 2, would that work?”

“Sure,” Janus said. He technically had a good amount of stuff to do, but Emile was right in the end. He should try to take breaks. It wasn’t his duty to do everything at the TPI. “A quick lunch now and coffee at 2.”

 Chapter 59

Janus did fulfil his promise to Emile to take a short coffee break at 2pm. It was nice for both of them, Janus thought and was well worth it… even when he came back to a stack of work and an extra mission on his docket.

“Where did this one even coming from?!” Janus asked as he and Remus speed walked to costuming. “I was gone for less than 30 minutes. They can’t give us more than an hour warning anymore?”

Remus shrugged. “I just got back from a mission,” he said. “I haven’t even had time to write my report on that one.

 “This is a mess,” Janus said. “Everything’s a mess.” Readings of a fairly large time distortion had popped up in 2158 Lille, France out of seemingly nowhere according to write up they’d been given. Though, honestly, with how disorganized the TPI has been, Janus wasn’t 100% confident they hadn’t just missed the thing somehow. It also was apparently giving very similar readings to the time device they’d ran into in Cuba. That’s why they were sending both Remus and Janus, despite the two of them mostly having been split up for missions in the past few weeks. If it was as bad as Cuba, they wanted them to have backup.

 Of course, that was where the TPI’s consideration had ended. Remus and Janus were still being rushed through to this mission and not even seeing Rhi once more. Costuming barely even glanced at them when they got there. They just tossed clothing at them and only gave them a superficial look over before sending them off to decon.

It was almost disorienting how quickly they ended up in a completely different time and place. Janus was lucky that he was used to traveling through time. He could easily slip into the right language and accent and knew how to walk in the shoes they gave him. He worried about other people though.

 They arrived, of course, a bit before the time distortion was meant to begin, especially knowing their devices might not work once whatever it was hit. They waited around on a bench near a small shopping area for a while.

“So,” Remus said. “How’ve you been?”

Janus glanced at him. “Better overall,” he said. “Shit’s fucked with the TPI right now though.”

“I know,” Remus said. “It’s been interfering with my many extracurricular activities.”

“You’re extracurricular activities?” Janus asked. “Do I even want to know?”

Remus show him a smile. “Probably not,” he said. “It’s just the usual: sex, drugs, alcohol, making sure Diesel Fuel has whatever she could ever want.”

 Yet, even as he said it, there was something else in his eyes that gave Janus pause. “Are you sure things are alright?” he asked. “I could help with something if you need.”

“With what time, Janus?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“I could make time,” Janus said.

Remus just shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he claimed.

Janus wanted to press the issue, but then there was a buzz from both of their time pieces.

“Well,” Remus said, getting to his feet. “Duty calls.”

Strangely enough, despite giving off the same signals as the device from Cuba did, their time pieces did not shut off. The detected the time distortion like they were supposed to, but otherwise stayed active.

 It was… incredibly easy to use their time pieces to find the source of the time distortion. Apparently, the caution about it considering that it was similar to the Cuba incident was unfounded.

The tracked the distortion down to a small children’s playground in the middle of the city. There was a device attached to the bottom of one of the slides. Janus flipped it off and balance was restored to time.

“Weird,” Janus said. “It definitely does look like the device we found in Cuba, but…”

“We aren’t currently swimming in an ocean,” Remus filled in.

“Yes,” Janus said. “You’d think the same type of device would have the same effect, but this one was pretty stable.”

 “The main question is still who is putting them,” reminded Remus. “These are clearly not natural. Someone is doing this, but all we’re doing is running around trying to turn them all off instead of getting to the root of the problem.” The last bit was a frustrated mumble.

“You’re right,” Janus had to agree, “but so far these things have been practically untraceable. We can’t even figure out when they’re from. The most we can do is see when they’re active.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Remus said.

“No it-” Yet, before Janus could finish, he was cut off by a shout.

 “Janus,” Patton’s voice called from the opposite side of the playground. “Hi!”

“Uh…” Janus said as he approached. “Hi.” He probably shouldn’t be too shocked to see Patton hanging around time distortions. He’d shown up at many of them before, but something about him showing up after the time distortion was already fixed threw Janus off. “We already dealt with time distortion…”

“Oh, good!” Patton said. “That’s good.”

“Yea-”

“So, I was actually wondering something.”

“Er, alright,” Janus said. There was a pause. “What?”

“Oh,” Patton said. “Um. You. Well, you once mentioned that you liked ballet.”

He hadn’t actually that he could remember, but he wouldn’t be surprised if a future version of him had. “Yes,” he said. “That’s true.”

 “Yeah,” Patton said. “Cool, so I have a… nephew who’s been getting into ballet. And I’m trying to learn more about it. I was wondering if you had any suggestions for things to see about ballet to help me, er, get a better idea about how… it… is. You know?”

Before Janus could think of a response, Remus spoke up. “You were a much better flirt in Cuba,” he remarked idly. Janus elbowed him harshly in the side.

“Hey, Remus, honey,” Patton said, glancing at him with a sweet smile. “I saw an interesting looking coffee shop down the road.” He started digging in his pocket. “If I give you money, would you mind getting us all something to drink.” He pulled a few bills out of his pocket.

“Yeah… okay,” Remus said with a smirk. “I see how it is.”

Patton just smiled at him and handed over the money.

“Have fun you two,” Remus said, turning on his heels and striding off.

 Janus glanced back at Patton once he was gone. “So, a nephew?” Janus asked.

Patton nodded. “Yep!”

“What exactly did you want to know?”

“Erm… I dunno,” Patton said. “I don’t know enough about ballet to know what to ask about ballet.”

“Well do you want to know more about the watching side or the dancing side.”

Patton bit his lip. “Well, I guess I’d like to know more about the watching side first,” he said. “Then maybe learn some basics about the dancing stuff if my nephew wants to dance.”

“Well, I actually do know more about watching ballet than participating, so that’s good.”

 Patton ended up pulling him over to sit on the swings even though there was a perfectly good bench at the edge of the playground. Janus talked a bit about ballet in general and then gave him a list of particular shows he liked. He did try to stick to the 21st century and before under the assumption that this nephew was from the same time as Patton. There was still plenty of things to talk about even with those restraints.

Patton seemed interested as he talked, pressing his face against the chain of the swing to look at him as he talked with a smile.

 They spoke about ballet for about 20 minutes before Remus eventually returned from the coffee shop.

“Thanks Remus,” Patton said, taking the cup he’d offered to him.

“No problem,” Remus replied, flashing a smile.

“Well,” Patton said, “thank you for the info Janus, but I really need to be going now.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Okay.”

“See you soon!” he said, typing something into his timepiece and immediately disappearing without even checking his surroundings. He was lucky the playground was strangely empty today. He left his drink on the ground without taking a sip.

“Well,” Janus sighed once he was gone. “We should probably be getting back to the TPI anyway,” he said, taking a sip of the drink Remus had gotten him.

 “A London Fog?” Janus asked.

“It was the special,” Remus said, taking a sip of his own drink.

Janus shrugged. “We’ll finish these and head back,” he said. “The mission was shorter than expected anyway. They can deal with us being gone a couple of extra minutes.”

“Mhmm.”

Janus took another sip. “About the conversation from early,” he said.

“Uh, could we maybe talk about it later?”

“Remus, you’re my friend and clearly something is bugging you.”

“It’s nothing,” Remus said. “Really.”

“It’s clearly not ‘nothing,’ Remus.”

“I… well,” Remus said. “Maybe not, but let’s not talk about it right now. We’re on a mission.”

Janus snorted. “Remus, I’ve seen you drink on the job.”

“…Right,” Remus said. “But still. Things are busy. We should probably actually head back now.”

Janus sighed. “You’re probably right,” he agreed, “but really, we should talk sometime.”

“Sometimes,” Remus agreed, “just… not now.”

“Fine,” Janus said. “Ready?” Remus nodded and Janus pulled up his timepiece and pushing the correct button to get them back to decon. Remus copied him and they both were off.

 Chapter 60

Remus pretty much bolted out of decon to get away from Janus when he tried to talk to him again or at least ask if he could come by and talk to him after work. Janus felt a pit of worry start to grow in his gut. There was something wrong, but Janus didn’t know what. In fact, thinking back, maybe there had been something wrong for a while, but Janus had been too caught up in his own shit of a brain to properly address it.

He walked back to his office still thinking about it. Maybe he’d get Emile’s opinion on what to do.

 The lights flickered as he entered the hallway his office was in, and he paused. That was strange. Very strange.

He frowned, planning to message someone right away about whatever the fuck that was. It was one thing to be a chaotic mess of a time travel agency; it was another to literally not be able to keep the lights on. What was going on in this place?

He stepped into his office shaking his head. To his surprise, someone was already sitting at his desk.

“Virgil?” Janus asked, confused. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone in cultural outreach to come physically to the TPI, but usually agents went to them. It was more convenient to them and a bit more secure for the TPI.

 “Oh,” Virgil said in a tone that made Janus narrow his eyes and expect the dish washer not to be loaded. “Hey Janus. What are you doing here?”

“In my office?” Janus asked, glancing at Fred who had obviously let him in. Fred shrugged. Glad to know they had great security here.

“Right, yeah,” Virgil said. “It would be your office, huh?”

“…Yes?”

Virgil paused for a split second and took a breath to regroup. “I was actually looking for your partner.”

“Remus?” Janus asked. “Why?” Then he paused. “What on Earth did he do?”

“Nothing,” Virgil said. “Well, I mean… probably something knowing him, but that’s not why I’m here.”