#anyways i saw a double rainbow the other day in-game

[boyyeahright]

ON THE ROAD

[koolades-world]

happy father's day!

i actually wasn't going to make a special post until i actually made a very telling connection just yesterday morning. i think the reason i just adore dadcifer is because lucifer reminds me so much of my own dad. they can both seem so cold and unapproachable from the outside, but actually is so thoughtful and cares a lot about those they love. they both have a secret love of animals, would do anything for their family, and are very protective of them. they're both secretly softies for their children (or brothers in luci's case) and as i (or the brothers) start to age, i realized just how much he did for me in the past

my father injured his back pretty bad in a car accident when i was little, but he still continue and did his best to my dad despite that, and still made it to every single one of my award ceremonies and games on top of all his work. he couldn't do things he did before, like piggy back rides and anything that involved sitting on the ground and while that's certainly not on the same level as what lucifer experienced during the fall, i feel as if it may be comparable to the loss of one pair of his wings and the symbolism of it all. through all that lucifer still got himself together and continued to be what his brothers needed him to be.

sorry for really rambling there, but my dad really is one of the the reasons i pick myself whenever i fall, and making this connection has caused me to treasure lucifer like i hadn't before

i hope for the love of god you never find this, but this one was written with you in mind, dad. thank you for everything and i love you <33

Dadcifer

Lucifer was at his desk, trying to complete paperwork. He'd made excellent progress in the past few hours, and he hadn't even realized that much time had passed. He wasn't having a bad day, per say, but it was just another monotonous day. But, it wasn't done yet. If he could keep up at the rate he was currently working at, he thought he could be finished a little earlier than he usually was.

Absentmindedly, he reach for the next paper, but he felt his heart drop a little when his hand past through where the pile should have been and met the table. He turned to look to see if maybe he'd just missed the papers, but all the papers were gone. Thinking he might have accidently knocked them all on the floor, he stood up and leant as far over he could over his desk. But, they were nowhere to be found. He decided to double check that his other papers were where he'd left them, but to his surprise, found not a single paper on his desk.

Lucifer began to grow frustrated. He didn't know how his papers suddenly vanishing was possible. He knew his brothers must've had something to do with it. They always did. He had no new messages on his phone, so with a sigh, he decided to go see what they were doing.

He could hear Mammon and Levi bickering in what he presumed was the living room. That was a problem he'd have to solve before it got out of hand again. While he'd like to prioritize his missing work, making sure the house didn't burn again down took precedence. He was in no hurry though. He wasn't eager to break up yet another fight between his brothers, but it always fell on him to do it anyways.

However, to his surprise, neither Mammon nor Levi was in sight. Before he could digest what he was seeing, he heard seven voices yell in unison, "Happy Father's Day!" To both his right and left, a party popper was set off, showering him in confetti in every color of the rainbow. After he got past the initial shock, he saw a simple, but well thought out set up. A banner was stung above the fireplace that said 'Happy Father's Day' and while it wasn't exactly even, he could tell it was done carefully. Streams adorned the walls and the light fixtures, and some balloons sat in a couple corners of the room. A large pile of presents and a large card sat on the coffee table.

"What is this all about?" Lucifer shook off some of the confetti to see that it was Mammon and Levi who'd covered him in it.

"It's a celebration for you, of course!" Mc was in the center of the group of the remaining brothers. Beel and Asmo had large grins on their faces, and while Belphie and Satan looked less thrilled, they looked as if they were trying to appear that way.

"Why?" He questioned. He raised an eyebrow at all the decor.

"You do so much for all of us. We figured it'd be fitting to celebrate a human holiday known as Father's Day. It's when the people in the life of father, or father figure, celebrate them for just that reason. You call them your brothers, but you might as well be their dad considering how much you care for them." Mc told him. They didn't mention that he could actually be considered a father, but it was probably best that way to avoid setting off Satan. "You've done a lot for me too. Even though I wasn't part of this family to begin with, you welcomed me in just like I had been. You've supported me through so much, and we all agreed we should celebrate you for this." Mc held out a bundle of flowers to him. Lucifer took them, studying them. Before he could get out another word, they fiercely hugged him. His other brothers took this as their signal to join, mobbing him in their embrace.

Lucifer almost felt as if he could cry. They'd gone out of their way to set up everything for him, including an abundance of gifts. Considering his birthday was at the beginning of that month, he was both surprised and impressed. "I don't know what to say. Thank you." He was honored. Everyone backed up after a minute or so of the embrace, seemingly with something else up their sleeves.

"We have one more thing for you!" Asmo exclaimed, clapping his hands giddily. Mc looked as if they were concentrating, and slowly, a cake levitated into view which Mammon quickly intercepted and extended towards Lucifer. It had a couple candles in it, and it had the name of the holiday on it. Each letter was in a different color and appeared like they were all written by different people. Some letters were very prim, while others were rough at best. Besides that, everything else seemed professionally done.

"Luke helped us bake and decorate this cake, but we each put on a letter or two of the message." Mc explained. With a wave of his hands, Satan lit the candles. Everyone gathered around Lucifer and Mammon, waiting for his response. He sighed again, but this time, it was one of happiness. He blew out the candles, causing the group to begin cheering. From behind him, Beel placed a headband of some kind on Lucifer's head.

"Now everybody knows you're a dad." Beel smiled.

"The only reason the others aren't here is because they're currently celebrating Simeon and Barbatos for Father's Day too." Mc had Mammon place the cake on the table so they could cut it.

"That explains why Luke was the one who helped you." Lucifer nodded.

"Now, get over here, silly. You have presents to open." Mc waved him over to sit down. They lent towards him to whisper. "Just so you know, this was Satan's idea." They could hardly contain their laughter, which Lucifer matched with a smile that rarely graced his face. As much trouble as his brothers caused, and sometimes Mc too, he was eternally grateful for all of them. He couldn't have asked for a better family.

[beangods]

1, 6, 11, 12

1. Zodiac sign

depending on how special i'm feeling, i'm either a sagittarius/scorpio cusp or a november sagittarius (like, the last possible day you could be considered a cusper).

6. What I find attractive in men

i am le basic in terms of physical preferences---i usually go for the slim guys who are not inconveniently tall, OR very solidly built short guys. in terms of personality and overall vibes i am exclusively attracted to nerds, geeks, and dweebs. i pay attention to hands, teeth, and eyebrows, and i am #sink4source: my extremities are always cold, so my ideal guy would also double as a space heater so we could have thermal equilibrium. 2010s tumblr was formative to my sexuality so the day dyed white hair went out of fashion was my 9/11

11. My last night out, in detail

saturday afternoon and evening was entirely taken up by the DC pride parade. i went alone in the early afternoon, driving to the nearest metro station and taking the line in to the stop closest to the local sci-fi organization. it was hours before the parade, but i saw some german ladies who looked like they were going and a few other gay guys in rainbow corporate branded socks, one of whom left an empty brewski on the seat across from me. i threw it out at my transfer station and discovered my homemade brownie/cookie hybrids had been squashed a bit by the bottle of V8 splash i brought as a drink. whatever, i got to the sci-fi org meeting (in a gorgeous little brownstone) with time to spare.

i was the youngest guy there, and it was my first time attending a meetup, but it was really nice to be around older gay nerds who were having fun. two dudes left early to get a good spot to see the parade and hit up the circuit parties after; i left with the bulk of the sci fi guys and missed the dykes on bikes.

i ended up near the front of the crowd, but anything i caught i offered to people behind me because i didn't want any of that crap to keep. it was my first pride as a stealth gay man, and it was really . . . striking, i guess, how other dudes actually approached me and flirted with me or (in the case of the retirees) regaled me with tales of their own gay youth and what pride was like back in the 80s. there was one really beautiful strawberry blond with dark brown eyes who liked what he saw, but he was with friends and nothing much could have happened anyway.

the parade itself was disgustingly corporate; there were a few pro-palestine signs and one smugly homonationalist one from the israeli column, but also . . . three grocery store chains, not even decked out. after a certain point i'd had enough and went back to watch the guys play board games.

i ended up going on a walk around the block with the host and one of the oldest dudes there, who told me about the neighborhood and what it was like 20 years ago, and everything about original receptions to star wars. we passed through a block party and around several groups of revelers before ending up back at the house, and i finally got to play a game of unearth, which involved dice and hexagonal tiles.

i did socialize a bit, had fun, and walked out of there with 5 skeins of yarn and three professional contacts i still have to follow up on. emails.

got out of there a bit after 10pm and passed three lines into clubs on my way back to the metro. i probably would have had fun if i'd gone in, but i had no cash and a long way home, and i was worried about being stranded at the transfer station. luckily the lines run til 1am on saturdays, but even after getting back to my car i still had a forty-minute drive home in the dark with only weird saturday night radio for company.

i arrived shortly after midnight and spent a solid few minutes stargazing, trying to find the milky way. i'm on a farm, so we do see a lot of stars, but we're still only 30 minutes away from anywhere that's anywhere and light pollution keeps getting worse with all the construction going up around us.

anyway yeah that was the last time i "went out" for fun.

12. My favorite book

hmmmmmmmmm right now probablyyyyyyyy hold me closer necromancer by lish mcbride. that's a very tenuous position as i don't really have that many favorites though

ask meme 51 questions!

[thetriggeredhappy]

day 1 let’s fuckin’ go. everyone listen to butterflies by samsa

Day 1: Pursuit

“You seriously don’t have any better games than this?” Scout complained, looking back down at the board, doubtful. “Not even, like, a deck of cards? To play poker or somethin’?”

“Rather not play two-person poker, and I don’t like gambling anyways,” was Sniper’s reply, not glancing up from shuffling the cards.

“I mean, maybe Go Fish then, or Old Maid, or—or somethin’, not fuckin’… Trivial Pursuit.”

Sniper seemed to mull that over for a moment. “If you don’t want to play,” he started to say, hesitant, and Scout sputtered to cut him off before he could finish that thought.

“I, I mean, I didn’t say that,” he managed, still half-glaring down at the board. “Just, y’know.”

Sniper probably didn’t know, actually. Truthfully, Scout wasn’t much for… book smarts type games. Games that needed quick reflexes, talking quickly, theatrics, those he was a champion at besides his eternally bad luck, but facts and numbers and geography? Those he tended to sort of… fuck up beyond recognition. And he really, really didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in front of Sniper.

Kind of the worst case scenario, actually. But the worse worst case scenario was driving the guy away before even getting to hang out with him, here, the first time he’d ever agreed to one of Scout’s dozens of proposed hangouts.

Hell, he’d honestly gotten used to Sniper always saying no. ‘Nah’ and ‘Not this time’ and ‘Afraid not, sorry mate’ were three phrases Scout had heard at least three and four times a week for months, now. He’d started brushing right through it, stopped letting it hurt his feelings even, although he couldn’t help but get his hopes up, still. Invitations to team drinking nights and poker parties and carpooling with the guys to the movies or a bar or a casino, or more overt invitations to listen to new albums or go out to get fast food or to fairs or to concerts, he’d long since gotten used to those standard, polite rejections.

So he was surprised, then, when he’d delivered his offhanded invitation—“Hey, Snipes, all the other guys bailed on the rec room game night tonight, you wanna be there anyways?”—he hadn’t expected Sniper to hesitate for a few seconds before shrugging and saying sure.

Hell, he was halfway through his ‘yeah no problem no worries man’ before he even realized Sniper said yes, then it was fumbling the whole rest of the way.

Better to be an idiot friend than a distant acquaintance, maybe. That’s what he told himself.

A brief mumbled rundown of the rules went in one ear and out the other as he got preoccupied with looking over one of the cards, mind boggled by what the hell the letters and colors were supposed to mean. A short summary was nodded at vaguely, and apparently his poker face had been terrible all along, because Sniper shrugged and said that they could just play first to six questions right and tally up wins from there. Then they rolled a dice and Sniper, apparently, would go first.

“Alright, uh,” Scout said, squinting down at the little card. “What does a… he-leo-logist, study?”

Sniper thought about it for a second. “Er… the sun,” he replied.

“Yep,” Scout nodded, nudged a piece towards him. Sniper took it. “So, uh, you go again?”

“Yeah. Er… geography, this time,” Sniper mumbled, shuffling some pieces around in a way that probably made sense to people who actually knew how this board game worked.

“Sure. What’s… the country that has South America’s highest and lowest points?”

Another pause. “Bloody… Argentina, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Damn. Okay, next one,” Scout said, less concerned about the fact that Sniper was doing well and more worried at the fact that he was gonna do awful.

“Geography again,” Sniper determined.

“What natural… breakwater, is off the north… eastern, part of Australia?” he read, a little stilted, squinting at the letters, like that would help, for once. Silence, for a pause, then for longer. Scout breathed an internal sigh of relief, smiling a little. “C’mon, it’s your own fuckin’, uh… country, continent, thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s both,” Sniper said, and paused. “It… it’s not talking about the bloody, er… Solomon Islands, is it?”

“Great Barrier Reef,” Scout replied.

Sniper muttered a swear. “Overthought it,” he sighed, nudging the dice over to Scout, who rolled it. Sniper glanced at the number, moved the pieces, looked at a card. “Right. What craft uses a… kiln, and a kick wheel?”

Scout could’ve cried. “That’s, uh, pottery, sculpting,” he said, relieved.

A nod from Sniper, a piece scooped onto his side of the table, the dice rolled a few seconds later when he realized he was supposed to do that. “How many colors are in the rainbow?” he asked next.

Scout had to count off on his fingers for a second. “Uh, seven,” he said, and fist-pumped when Sniper nodded, scooping up another piece. “Even though it’s, uh, kinda bullishit. There should be six.”

Sniper’s eyebrows ticking up in confusion probably was a sign he should drop it, but instead he found himself spouting off.

“Because, uh, like, y’know, there’s—there’s the kinds of colors, right?” he said, backpedaling at his response of furrowed eyebrows. “Like, the basic ones, the, uh, primary colors, that’s red and yellow and blue, y’know? And then the other three, that you get from mixing those, like, uh, red and yellow is, uh… is orange, and then like, green, and purple, you combine ‘em, right?”

Sniper nodded slowly after a moment.

“But then you got, uh, fuckin’… indigo. In the, uh, in the list of colors, fuckin’, Roy G. Biv? Red orange yellow, green, blue indigo violet? And I know it’s, like, blue and dark blue, but I think that still sucks. If we’ve got indigo we’ve gotta have like, the other in- between guys. Know what I mean?”

“Don’t have much of an opinion on it, but, sounds like you’re making points,” Sniper said, and Scout shrugged, glanced down at the table, tapped his fingertips against his knees out of sight to try and let out some nervous energy. “Bloody, er… your turn, or mine?”

“Uh, mine,” Scout said, scrambling to roll the dice.

“Right. Sorry. Er…” Sniper read over the card. “Patron saint of Scotland?”

Scout swore under his breath, deflating a little, coming up blank. “Uh… hey, Demo!” he called, and heard a vague ‘aye’ from the kitchen. “Who’s the patron saint of Scotland?”

“My mum,” Demo called back, and Sniper snickered, at least, which softened the blow to Scout’s confidence considerably.

“Ah, fuck off,” Scout called back, and looked back at Sniper, smiling. “Saint Scrumpy, fuck, I dunno.”

“Saint Andrew, apparently,” Sniper shrugged, rolling the dice. “Sports question. The orange one.”

Scout tried to read the question before starting to say anything out loud, and found himself completely lost anyways. “Who was the first… Ch—Check-uh-slavarian… to win, the… Wimbleton…”

“No idea,” Sniper said outright, shaking his head at himself. “Don’t follow, er… what, the Olympics?”

“Tennis, I guess,” Scout shrugged, rolling the dice.

“Sports for you too. What did… bloody hell. What did second baseman Bill… Wambsganss, do all by himself in the, er… 1920 World Series game?”

“Oh, shit,” Scout laughed, “guy did, like, a triple play, and then hit into a double later that same game. That was the year some guy got hit in the head with a ball and fuckin’ died.”

Sniper was staring at him, clearly shocked.

“What?” Scout asked, rolling the dice. “I know baseball. And it was a whole thing.”

Sniper seemed to shrug it off, shaking his head. “What’s the Taj Mahal made of?”

“Fuckin’, I dunno, chocolate? What, that some kinda dessert? What’s that?” Scout scoffed, trying to play it off.

“It’s… it’s a place. Looks a bit like a castle? Like, er, like the Eiffel Tower, or Big Ben, tourist sort of thing?” Sniper tried, and Scout shrugged, and he shrugged back, rolling the dice. “Fair enough. One of the, er, Science ones. Green one.”

Scout looked at the card for a few seconds. “I… dunno how to say this word. Glue… glay… what’s that?”

Sniper leaned over, and Scout turned it towards him. “Glaucoma. Hits your eyes,” he said, and Scout nodded, and he took a piece, rolled again. “Brown one.”

“What are… catalogued, under the Dewey decimal system?” Scout asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Books, library books,” Sniper mumbled.

“Jesus, are you—where’s the mirrors, seriously? How are you doing that?” Scout asked, and Sniper huffed something like a laugh, taking the piece, rolling again. “No, no, seriously. How the hell do you know half of these?”

“Geography, blue,” he prompted.

“Alright, I swear to god.” Scout held the card close as he read it, first to himself, then out loud. “What national capital is heated by underground hot springs?”

Sniper, to his credit, paused for a moment before answering. “Iceland’s. Reykjavik, it’s called.”

“I swear to god.” Scout flipped over the card, read the answer. “Oh, what the fuck!”

“I’ve bloody been there!” Sniper defended.

“Nah, fuck off, hold on—“ Scout picked up another card, reading another question. “Where in a tree does photosynthesis happen?”

“Leaves.”

“How do you know that so fast!” Scout demanded.

“That’s just science class in school!”

“Fuckin’—who, fuckin’, rode on the raft with Huck Finn?” Scout asked next.

“The, er… runaway, Jim.”

“Oh, what!” Scout all but shouted.

“Scout, I read.”

“Nah, nah, you’re way too good at this game, either you’re like, cheating, or you on purpose picked this game because you’re, like, weirdly crazy good at it or something!”

Sniper’s expression went from amusement to that blankness again, and it only made Scout even more infuriated.

“I mean, seriously, did you pick this game on purpose because you just know all the cards? Did you just wanna do the game where you’d for sure win?” he demanded.

Sniper was fidgeting with his glasses, now, and to be honest, Scout wasn’t even particularly mad, just confused.

“I mean, shit, you’d think you just wanted too play this one so you could look smart and cool and shit like that,” he said. and saw the way Sniper shrank a little, and the lightbulb went off way too late.

A pause.

“Dude,” Scout said, fighting down a laugh.

Sniper mumbled something he didn’t quite hear, sinking in his chair.

“Alright, seriously, if you wanna look smarter than me, you really don’t gotta pull out the trivia questions. Pretty much any game works, you know that, right? I’ll make an idiot of myself playing, like… Uno,” Scout said. Sniper shrugged, still not looking him in the eye. “Okay. Here’s an idea. How about we play, uh… I dunno, Crazy Eights. And while we play I’m gonna keep grilling you on this random trivia shit because seriously, that’s totally nuts, man.”

Sniper hesitated for a few seconds before he finally nodded and straightened up, and in a way, they both won. Scout because he now at least knew he wasn’t the only one who was a total mess and way too worried about what other people thought, and Sniper because he could keep being impressive about random trivia knowledge. Apparently, he knew a bunch about geography and books and nature, and not a single thing about sports.

Scout accused him of trying to memorize the cards. Sniper laughed, properly, for the first time all night.

[planetsano]

sugar rush!

prompt: a very studious s/o relying on a sugar rush to make it through the day after staying up all night to study for an exam.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader, kirishima eijirou x reader if you squint (he's so cute I couldn't help myself)

tag(s): college!au, aged up, domestic, fluff, candy, facetime, energy crashing, weed

warning(s): drug references, cursing

su·gar rush

Noun

A sugar rush is an experience of high energy after eating or drinking a considerable amount of sugar in a short period of time, often associated with hyperactive children.

Bakugou told you to go to bed when you facetimed him last night at 2 am. You woke him fully out of his sleep and asked to keep you company while you studied.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bakugou rubbed at his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden brightness from his phone. His eyes were extra sensitive waking up from his slumber. You were lucky because if it was anyone else he would have let the phone ring and went back to bed.

“Did I wake you? I'm sorry.” You puffed your cheeks out holding your phone closer to your face. The angle wasn't flattering, but Bakugou and you were past that point in your relationship. You were 100% positive he’s screenshotted and taken at least 1,000 ugly pictures of you. You have some of him but they always seem to magically disappear. You should really put a lock on your phone.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Bakugou was in full view now. Head propped against his pillows, hair messy, and muscles exposed from wearing a black tank top. His room was dark but his face was illuminated from the brightness of his phone. His looks never failed to make your tummy do flips. How did you land a hottie like this?

“Yeah.. I know it's late, but I want company! I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep but I have to study more.” You propped your phone against some books giving him a full view of your set up. Papers, notebooks, colorful pens and highlighters seemingly scattered randomly throughout your desk. You sat in your chair with one leg to your chest and the other planted on the ground making your chair spin from side to side. He thought you looked cute like this. Pajamas, messy hair, and glasses falling off the bridge of your nose.

“You need to sleep.” He sighed. You just rolled your eyes and picked up a textbook that was out of frame.

“I'll sleep when I'm dead.” You said nonchalantly as you opened the book and started flipping through the pages.

“I'm serious. You're going to have zero energy for tomorrow. Go to bed.” Bakugou chastised you and you sighed heavily.

“Ugh, fine. You're no fun anyway.”

Knowing you, he should have known you weren't going to listen to him last night. He thought that maybe he should've blown up your door to see if you were okay. It became the morning routine for the both of you when you first started dating. He’d knock on your door to walk you to class and you’d greet him with a sweet smile and a kiss. Everyday it was somewhere different. One day it's his lips, then the next it could be on the cheek, and his personal favorite is when you stand on your tippy toes to try to kiss his forehead. But that didn't happen today because you didn't answer.

So it was safe to say that Bakugou was a little peeved when he got to class without you by his side. He entered the classroom to see some extras idly chatting with their peers and some doing homework at the last minute. Denki and Mina were chatting towards the back of the classroom. Mina noticed the angry blond and waved him over. Bakugou walked up and greeted them both with a low hum.

“Where's (Name)?” Mina asked, tilting her head to the side. It was odd seeing Bakugou by himself.

“Don't know.” Bakugou answered bluntly.

“Aw, don't tell me you've gone and made her mad.” Mina teased. Bakugou rolled his eyes and mumbled a low “shut up.”

“Now that I think of it, where's Kirishima? I didn't see him this morning either.” Denki added.

The three continued to chat but Bakugou wasn't paying attention at all. All their talking was background noise at this point being washed out by his thoughts. He was becoming more and more anxious as the minutes went by. Class was starting soon and most of everyone had already come into the lecture room.

Were you okay?

Are you sick?

Did you need help?

Were just a couple thoughts running through his mind so you could only imagine the relief and annoyance he felt when he saw you bop into the classroom with Kirishima. He had to do a double take because not only was weird hair giving you a piggyback ride, you were pouring three pixy stix in your mouth.

Bakugou watched you hop off Kirishima’s back and happily greet your friends (which was practically the entire classroom) like an energized puppy. You went to Izuku and happily squeezed his cheeks together between your dainty hands. He didn't mind, he thought your high energy was amazing.

“Good morning, Midoriya!” You smiled at him.

“G-ood mornin-g, (Name)!” His voice was somewhat muffled as he spoke but nonetheless he had a smile on his face.

“You’re so squishy just like a mochi!.” You continued to squeeze his chubby cheeks together as the three watched on.

“(Name) is being kind of..” Denki trailed off.

Hyper was the word he was looking for. You were hyper and practically bouncing off the walls like one of those tiny rainbow balls kids got out of the candy machine for 50 cents.

“Annoying? Yeah.” Bakugou said in his usual harsh tone and started to walk over to you. He was sure to give Kirishima a death glare as he walked past him to get to Mina and Denki.

“What'd I do?” A confused Kirishima asked Denki and Mina. He knew he was going to get an earful from his friend later.

All three of them watched the irritated blond tap your shoulder. You looked excited to see him and waved Izuku goodbye while Bakugou took you to another quiet corner of the lecture hall.

“What's with you?” Bakugou asked, looking down at you.

“Whaddya mean?” You looked down at your fingers and started twiddling them together under his stare.

“You're boppin’ around like you just did 80 lines of coke.” He said.

“Am not!” You looked up at him with furrowed brows, crossed your arms then stomped your foot childishly. You weren't scaring him if that's what you thought. He also noticed that your tongue was stained blue.

“You are.” He squeezed your nose gently. “What's got you so wired?”

“I didn't sleep at all last night so Kiri brought me some candy and a slushie this morning.” You answered.

“Candy?”

“Yeah!”

“Ever heard of coffee?”

“I don't like coffee.”

“You're going to crash, you know that right?” Bakugou asked.

“It's okay ‘cause you're going to catch me, right, handsome?” You kissed his cheek and on cue the bell rang.

Throughout the entire exam Bakugou couldn't help but to keep glancing at you in your seat. Your foot was tapping rapidly against the floor as you focused on your test. Every now and again he would see you sneak some form of candy into your mouth. Your eyes never left your test when your hand slid into your bag pulling out a gummy worm. It was such a contracting sight, being incredibly focused on the exam in front of you all while chewing on something as silly as a gummy worm. Eventually class ended and exams were turned in. You were pretty confident.

By the time lunch came around, you were completely drained. In the middle of your third class your energy plummeted and all you wanted to do was sleep. You could barely keep your head lifted without slipping into sleep. You were so happy lunch came around in hopes some food would pull you through the rest of the day.

When you walked into the cafe Mina spotted you and waved you over to the table. Everyone greeted you and soon you sat next to Bakugou who had saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You smiled putting your bag on the table in front of you.

“So, (Name)! We were all thinking we should hang out tonight.” Mina smiled at you with an eager smile.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the plan?” You yawned and rested your head on Bakugou’s shoulder and wrapped your arms around his bicep.

“Game night!” Kiri exclaimed.

“And a hot box.” Denki added and high-fived Kiri.

The table continued to converse about the later plans and that's when Bakugou leaned over to whisper to you.

“You gonna eat?” He asked.

“No, ‘m not hungry..” You said quietly feeling your eyes start to droop. Soon enough you were

“So how does that sound (Name)? (Na-) Oh, she's asleep.” Mina laughed at the sight. You were fully asleep, still holding onto Bakugou’s arm like it was your pillow.

“I told her to go to sleep last night but she's fucking hardheaded.” Bakugou shook his head looking at you as you were fast asleep.

“Man! I thought the candy was working!” Kirishima frowned that his plan didn't work.

“I mean, it was for a little bit.” Denki said.

“I'm gonna take her back to the dorms so she can rest.” Bakugou said and gently shook you awake.

“Wah- Was I asleep?” You asked dazedly.

“Get up dummy, I'm taking you to your room.” He said.

He spent the rest of the afternoon with you, napping the afternoon away.

[natrogersfics]

After All - Chapter 1/5

Cover art by @faith2nyc​ Read on AO3

​In the history of work-life balances, The Daily’s has to be the most bizarre of any company, and Natasha knows that it has nothing to do with the reasonable work hours Pepper is a stickler for implementing. One would truly be hard-pressed to find another work environment where the people get along so seamlessly. Sure, they have their disagreements, and their instincts are always to engage in debate rather than shy away from it, but for the most part, the second the clock strikes five p.m., all spats are forgotten in lieu of brainstorming which watering hole to head to (Dalton’s, always Dalton’s).   

To say that her coworkers are like family seems like a banality on the surface, the type of line an HR Department would print in the welcome packet for a new employee before their first day on the job. But as she stands by the doorway of Tony and Pepper’s living room, watching the very people she works with on a daily basis joyously mingle with members of her actual family, she does not know how else she could possibly define them. These people are the best of the best in the respective subjects, their combined accomplishments the envy of anyone with even a scintilla of ambition to succeed in the media. And yet here they are, holding plates filled with rainbow cake and sporting unicorn party hats, all because these happen to be her daughter’s latest obsession and they’re all powerless to deny her – especially on her first birthday.

In some ways, she knew they would be fond of Isabel, but she never expected them to adore her quite like this – for Thor to bring her a strawberry cupcake every eleventh to celebrate each new month of her life, or for Stephen and Christine to insist that they come over so the latter can personally perform routine checkups, or for Tony to customize a double stroller for when he takes both Isabel and Maria to his workshop. What’s more, they’ve all rallied around her as well, none of them ever more than a text message away when she’s in need of anything, which proved invaluable as she navigated motherhood for the first time. 

This outpour of love from a group of people who are not by any stretch obligated to go so above and beyond is an anomaly, she knows. It’s going to take some kind of miracle for her to find another group of genuinely kind people who would go up to bat for her and Isabel. And it’s that very thought that wrests the sadness she’s been trying to keep at bay all day as she ponders how this may be the last time in a long while that they will gather like this. 

“Are you sure you have to go?”   

The question breaks her out of her reverie, and she turns to see Darcy next to her, holding up two forks in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. She chuckles, reaching for the other fork as they both take a bite and moan at the perfection that is Sarah Roger’s baking. “I already paid the security deposit on the flat we’re staying in,” she says. “So that’s going to be a yes.”

“Flat, huh? Look at you, getting in on the lingo,” Darcy teases before groaning. “But until your butt is officially across the pond, it is an apartment. And it is take-out, not take-away. Which, coincidentally, we happen to have the best of here. Where are you going to get your Nom Wah fix in London, Nat, huh? Where?”

“They have a Chinatown there too, last I checked,” she counters, laughing when Darcy rolls her eyes. “Besides, I have to go anyway on the account of me being out of a job. I do have a child to support, you know.”

“First of all, the only reason you’re out of a job is because you got a big promotion,” Darcy says matter-of-factly. “Stupid corporate ladder.”

“Big words coming from the newly minted editor of The Daily’s International section,” she says, suddenly brimming with pride.

“Only because I learned everything from you,” Darcy says quietly before sighing in concession. “Ugh! You better not forget us when you’re out there being a hotshot editor-in-chief. And you better make sure Boss Baby doesn’t forget who her favorite is!”

“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” she says, wrapping an arm around the shoulders of the first person to truly become her constant at work. “You are many things, but forgettable is not one of them.”

“Yeah, true,” Darcy concedes easily, causing them both to laugh.

“Speaking of the Boss Baby though,” she says, checking her watch. “It’s almost her bedtime, so I better go make sure none of her grandparents have let her eat all the icing.” 

“I think what you really have to be concerned about is an aunt and uncle helpless over her charms,” Darcy says, smiling knowingly. “Last I saw her she was in the kitchen with Bucky and Wanda.”

She’s about to thank her, but before she can, Darcy’s already running towards the center of the living room at Thor’s roaring announcement that a game of Pictionary is about to commence. For a second, she allows herself a moment to watch the pandemonium unfold as her friends – her fully grown adult friends, no less – vie for the positions of team captains. “Hooligans,” she says, shaking her head fondly before making a beeline for the kitchen. She pokes her head in, finding Bucky and Wanda poring over the cheese and cold cuts selection laid out on the island before knocking on the wall to get their attention. “Any of you know where Izzie is?”

“Nat!” Bucky exclaims, “you have to try this cheese. It smells like something died in it, but it’s so damn delicious!”

She tilts her head to the side, the corner of her mouth tugging up in amusement. “Maybe later, Buck.” 

“Ignore him. He’s inhaled too much cheese,” Wanda says over the rim of her wine glass before pointing upwards. “Steve took her upstairs for a diaper change.”

“Thank you,” she says, turning to leave. She makes it to the stairs, climbing it two steps at a time until she reaches the top and stops in front of the framed collage of Maria on the wall. As her eyes scan the plethora of pictures, she can’t help but smile. She’s seen this frame countless times before, can practically name where each photo was taken and how old her goddaughter is in every one of them, but for some reason, she finds herself lingering before it, as if she needs to recommit everything to her memory lest she forget. She gives herself another minute, and with a sigh, forces herself to look away and walk down the familiar path to the nursery.  

“Do you know how much Daddy loves you?”

Steve’s words stop her dead in her tracks, and through the door left cracked open, she catches a glimpse of him sitting on the rocking chair with Isabel across his lap, their daughter staring up at him as he feeds her a bottle. The sight of them gazing affectionately at each other punches the breath out of her lungs, and it’s only by instinct that she moves out of view, pressing her back against the nearest wall.

“I don’t even know if I have the right words to describe how much,” she hears Steve confess with a little chuckle, to which Isabel coos, and in her heart of hearts, she knows that she should not be eavesdropping on this moment – it isn’t hers, and yet, she finds herself unable to move. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t understand me all that well yet, so I have some time to figure them out...” He sighs, long and winded. “Though, if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I ever will. There couldn’t possibly be words in existence that will encapsulate how much I love every little inch of you.” Steve’s voice cracks by the end, followed closely by a sniffle. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, fig. And I’ll call you all the time, so please don’t forget Daddy while you’re over there, okay? You’re my whole world, baby girl…”   

The hallway and the stairs and the foyer are all a blur as she bolts, the air around her suddenly too thick. She makes it out the front door, but by the time she gets to the bottom step of the brownstone, her legs feel too heavy to keep herself upright and she slumps down, placing her head in her hands as the Summer night’s air blows by and the sound of the traffic on the Upper East Side rings ambiently around her. She sighs. Steve’s words weren’t even meant for her to hear. It shouldn’t affect her this way – shouldn’t hurt her this way – especially when they’re full of adulation for their daughter. And yet, it’s as if she’s taken another dagger to her already crippled heart.

“Natasha.”

She looks up in time to see her mother take a seat next to her, and in the warmth of Melinda’s embrace, she finally lets the tears fall. “Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?”

“Oh, Nat,” Melinda says, reaching over to thumb her tears away. “You don’t have to do this. You know that, right?”

“Only I do,” she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost immediately. “He’s had a year. Heck, he’s had more than that to say something, give me a sign.” Melinda’s expression softens at her words, and she knows that it’s because despite offering her a way out only moments ago, Melinda’s one of the few people who knows she’s right. It’s been too long since that fateful night she asked Steve if she had a reason to stay, only to be met by silence. It was damning then, and it’s even more so in the time that’s passed since they’d agreed to postpone both her move to London and the implementation of their custody agreement until Isabel turned one. If he wanted her, if he felt even a fraction for her of what she felt for him, he had countless opportunities and ample time to say so. But now here they are, their daughter past her first year of life, and a day away from each of them getting her six months out of the year. She shakes her head. “He loves her so much. That’s more than I could have ever asked for, and in some ways, that’s always been the deal.” She turns to Melinda, smiling sadly. “I can’t keep hoping anymore. I have to move on.”  

With a sad smile, Melinda drops a kiss to her temple. “Okay.” 

In the months leading up to this day, there were countless times Natasha had caught herself imaging how it would play out. She expected a tear or two to be shed – Sarah and Melinda being the most obvious culprits – but at the very least, she thought the massive crowds at JFK would prove a compelling enough reason for them to not only keep it together, but also to keep their goodbyes short and sweet. But here, on the tarmac in Teterboro, with the Stark Industries jet before her and her entire family close by, she realizes that this is quickly morphing into her worst-case scenario – drawn out goodbyes, too many sad eyes, and her heart feeling all too heavy in her chest.

“You tell T’Challa that I will never forgive him for this.”

Pepper’s words elicit a laugh from her. “Oh please,” she says, scoffing even as she wraps her arms tighter around Pepper and pretends not to feel the warmth of the tear that drips down to her shoulder. “If you were at all capable of holding a grudge, the three of us would’ve stopped being friends long ago.”

“That was before he plotted to steal my best friend from me,” Pepper mumbles, making them both laugh. “Do you realize that this is the first time since college that we’re not going to live within a subway’s ride from each other?”

“We’ll drop by for Christmas,” she offers quietly, unable to trust that her voice won’t falter if she dares answer the question directly. Over Pepper’s shoulder, her eyes quickly glance at the group by the stairs of the jet – Sarah, Nick and Melinda, and Bucky and Wanda all gathered around Steve and Isabel – and she finds herself relieved that she had already said her lengthy goodbyes to most of them last night. She takes a step back from Pepper as she says, “These next six months will fly by.”

“Alright, alright,” Tony interjects as he comes up next to them with Maria on his hip. “Let’s not act like there’s not going to be a Stark Industries emergency in the London office in two weeks that only the CEO can solve.” He eyes Pepper and then her knowingly before nodding towards the jet. “Best not to misuse company property more than we already are.”

She rolls her eyes, breaking away from Pepper’s embrace completely. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one who insisted on this whole spectacle?”

“You were gonna fly commercial,” Tony says, his expression twisting in disgust. “We’re not savages, Red.”  

Her lips quirk up at that. To anyone else, Tony’s quip drips with arrogance and reeks of privilege from a life defined by exuberant wealth. But she’s known the man for over a decade now, and though most of the time his tact leaves much to be desired, she understands him enough to know how to read between the lines. Their friendship has never been defined by heartfelt tête-à-têtes, and part of her is glad that he doesn’t seem keen on starting that now. Nevertheless, she knows that making sure she and Isabel are nothing short of exceedingly comfortable on an already difficult trip, is Tony’s ultimate way of showing just how much he cares. 

“Come here,” she says, stepping forward to engulf both him and Maria in a hug.  

“Oh, we’re doing this?” Tony says. “Okay, we’re really doing this.” She ignores him, but it only takes a beat before she feels his free arm wrap around her as well, squeezing back. When they pull away, he has his signature smirk on his face. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She chuckles just as she drops a kiss to Maria’s forehead. “Bye sweetheart,” she tells her goddaughter before turning back to Tony, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does that list even exist?”

Tony winks at her, prompting Pepper to shake her head at the both of them. 

“Indeed, it does not,” Pepper says, linking arms with her. “Come on.”

The pit in her stomach that she’s been trying to ignore since she got up this morning rears its ugly head once more. It’s for the best, she reminds herself. These four words have become her mantra ever since she uttered them that night in Steve’s office when she had first given him the custody agreement, and though her heart had never felt as eviscerated as it had in that moment, the fact that she’s only minutes away from jetting off to a different continent is testament to the fact that there’s truth in it. That, despite all that she’d hoped would change, this is how their lives must play out if they are to make their arrangement work. She sucks in a breath at the thought, at the finality of it all, and as she huffs out, the reassuring squeeze from Pepper grounds her enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Sarah is the first to notice them as they near, and she’s quick to offer her a warm smile before turning to Steve, whispering in his ear and giving Isabel one last kiss. 

“Be safe, darling,” Sarah says when she makes her way over to her, cupping her face in her hands. “And please, don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” she says, smiling earnestly. “Thank you, Sarah.” Sarah’s barely stepped away from her when she feels two pairs of arms wrap around her simultaneously, and she can’t help but laugh when she finds herself sandwiched between Nick and Melinda. “Sucking up all my oxygen here, guys.”

“Call us the second you land,” Melinda orders. “And not a second later, you hear? We have your flight plan.”

“Or by God, I will order an F-35 to come find you,” Nick adds.  

She scoffs. “You’ve been saying that since I was sixteen.”

“It was true then and it’s even truer now that you’re taking my grandbaby with you,” Nick says, eyeing her pointedly. “Don’t try me.”

“Fine,” she says, chuckling softly. “We’ll FaceTime you the second we land. How’s that?”

“Excellent,” Melinda says, hugging her tightly once more. “Our girl, we love you so.”  

“Love you too,” she says to each of them. Wanda and Bucky are last in line, and as she accepts a hug from the former and a kiss on the cheek from the latter, she begins to make her way towards the landing of the stairs where Steve stands cradling a sleeping Isabel. She stops a foot short of them, tucking her hands into her pockets and mustering the best smile she can. “We should get going.”  

Steve nods, turning to nuzzle the top of Isabel’s head. “Be a good girl for momma, okay?” he says, and she has to avert her gaze elsewhere at the way his voice breaks at the end. “Daddy loves you so much, fig.”

Just as she had the night before, she finds herself once again an intruder in a moment she has no business being a part of as she listens to Steve whisper sweet nothings to their daughter. But despite the feeling of being so unwelcome, so unwanted, she swallows it all down along with the lump that’s formed in her throat in an attempt to keep it together. It’s only when she hears Steve mutter a soft okay that she dares look back, watching as he steps forward to place Isabel into her arms. 

“Shh,” she says gently when Isabel stirs at the movement, carefully shifting her so she can rest her head on her shoulder before turning to Steve. “I’ll text you when we land and again when we get to our flat, so you know she’s safe.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, letting a beat pass before shaking his head. “Natasha…”  

For a moment, she can only stand there, letting his utterance of her name hang in the air between them. Where she finds the courage to look in his eyes, she isn’t certain, but she does. The pain in them is clear as the sky above them, but for whom it’s for, she can only surmise. Surely, for being separated for the next six months from their daughter, who’s oblivious to the loaded silence between them as she slumbers peacefully against her. And though she knows she shouldn’t, she lets herself wonder – wish, really – if only for a fraction of a second, and perhaps for the last time, that maybe that pain is for her, too. And that maybe, just maybe, now he would say the words she’s been longing to hear.

Steve sighs, and she holds her breath as he leans down to kiss her cheek. “Knock ‘em dead, Natasha Romanoff.”

Her eyes fall shut at that, and though he’s close enough that she can smell the familiar scent of his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin, they might as well be continents apart already. “Thanks,” she whispers, giving him a final nod before she turns to ascend the stairs.

There’s only the whirr of the jet taxiing towards the runway as she settles further back against the softness of the leather seat. Across her chest, Isabel sleeps peacefully, her curls glowing russet in the sunlight streaming through the window and her weight a welcome distraction from the hollowness burrowing deep inside of her, settling in. By now, she realizes, the sensation is just an old friend. She sighs, running her hand up and down Isabel’s back, holding her closer. “It’s just you and me, fig.”

I’m not freaking out, you are!

Steve’s brow arches as he reads the words in the blue bubble, and he does not waste time pressing down on the file attachment, eagerly waiting for the video to take up the entirety of the screen. Once it does, Isabel comes into view, sporting a gray Dodgers jersey with her hair pulled up in two symmetric pigtails as she clings onto the edge of a coffee table. The sight pulls his lips up into a beaming smile, all but threatening to split his face. 

“Come to momma, fig,” he hears Natasha encourage in the background. “You can do it!”

Despite Natasha’s message alluding to the fact that this had been a fruitful exercise, he finds himself holding his breath as he watches Isabel blink, her eyebrows furrowing in suspicion as if she’s contemplating her mother’s words. On the lower part of the screen, her foot inches forward ever so slightly, though whether it is to test the waters or tease her mother, he can only guess. But then her dubious expression fades as quickly as it had come, making way for a toothy grin, and then his eyes widen as he witnesses her take one wobbly step and then trot the rest of the way.

“Yay!” Natasha cheers, eliciting an elated giggle from Isabel, and he can’t help but laugh along as the camera flips to show Natasha with Isabel now on her lap. “We’re walking!”  

He types back a quick Yes! followed by But also, uh oh! 😬 before pressing play on the video once more, this time watching Isabel walk on her own without the nervousness that had plagued him only moments ago. It seems ridiculous – though he’s willing to bet that most parents feel the same way – but he feels pride surge right through him. Isabel was just beginning to get the hang of walking while her hands were being held up during her first birthday, and now, less than six months later, she’s already cruising along by herself. Time, he muses, truly does zip on by.

Placing his phone down on the counter, he stops to ponder his last thought. If there’s one thing he’s come to realize about time, it is that it can be a real conundrum – moving faster than you wish it would when you least want it to and slowing down to an agonizing crawl when you’re all but begging for it to fly. Only, these two facets seemed to be happening simultaneously in the last six months since his custody agreement with Natasha had taken effect. On one hand, Isabel is growing and changing faster than he can keep up with, becoming her own person with every day that passes. But at the same time, it feels as if his turn to have her, to witness these milestones unfold in real time, is an eternity away.

“I don’t like that face. Not one bit.”

He turns towards the sound of the voice, chuckling when he sees his mother walking into his kitchen, a box from her bakery in hand. “So much for a face only a mother can love.”

“Of course I love that face,” Sarah says, setting the box and her purse down on the island before hopping on the stool next to his. “I made it.” Sarah snickers as he rolls his eyes. “What I don’t love is when it’s all broody and scrunched up” – she points to his head – “means something’s going on up there.”   

With a sigh, he unlocks his phone, opening the video back up before pushing it towards Sarah. His mother squeals upon seeing her granddaughter, picking up the device to get a closer look. 

“She’s gotten so big!” she says, her eyes on the screen. “Goodness, she’s walking. Really walking!”

“She finally fit into the jersey Thor gave her before she was born, too,” he adds, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now it’s just right.” It’s probably the tone of his voice – crestfallen, though he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way – that causes Sarah to look at him, her eyes rueful. He waves off her concern. “I’m fine, ma. Some days are just harder than most. Technology’s great and all, but I still feel like I’m missing so much. And now...”

Sarah reaches over to place her hand over his. “I’m sorry they’re not going to make it for Christmas, darling.” 

“It’s fine,” he repeats. While he isn’t due to have Isabel until after New Years’, with some cajolery from Melinda, Nick, and Pepper, Natasha had agreed that she and Isabel would come visit for Christmas. That’d been the plan even before they left for London almost six months ago, and if he’s being completely honest, it’s been the day he’s been counting down to since. But then an emergency at Natasha’s work came up, preventing her and Isabel from traveling until after the holiday and successfully upending everything he had been looking forward to. He sighs. “It’s still technically Natasha’s time with her and she was being really magnanimous about sharing Izzie for Christmas anyway.” He swipes his hand out, as if to dismiss his melancholy, but even that is half-hearted. “I was just really looking forward to it, you know? Bucky already bought her a beanie with Reindeer antlers that light up and I thought maybe she could still see the Rockefeller tree.”

“Still might,” Sarah says, to which he gives a non-committal nod. “They don’t take it down right away anyway. But have you maybe considered asking Natasha if you can fly there for Christmas?”

“What?” he nearly spits out the word in surprise, tilting his head to the side as he looks at his mother like she’s grown three heads. “What’re- I mean, what in the world makes you think she’d agree to that?”

This time, it’s Sarah’s turn to look at him incredulously. “You two have been getting along great these past few months, haven’t you?”

“We text about Izzie,” he says, “and yes, Natasha’s there when we FaceTime too, but that’s because she has to hold up the phone on the account of Izzie wanting to put everything in her mouth. That is not the same as getting along great.” He sits up straighter, shaking his head. “Besides, spending Christmas together? In London? That’s not even remotely in our-”

“Oh please,” Sarah interrupts. “I don’t care what you two have written down in your contract-”

“Custody agreement,” he corrects.

“Semantics,” Sarah counters. “Like it or not, you and Natasha are forever bonded by the beautiful baby girl you two brought into this world. That makes you family, and families spend Christmas together.” Sarah shrugs, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and seemingly deliberating her next words. “Unless…”

He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. “Unless?”

“Steven, hon, you know I don’t like to pry,” Sarah says carefully. “But ever since… well, okay. I suppose I thought that maybe things between you and Natasha… especially after Izzie was born… I thought maybe you two would give it a chance. But then nothing happened, and I said I’d leave you two to it. It’s your lives. But now she’s over there, making a life for herself and you know what? Good on her. But then I see you, and I… It just seems to me like you’re stuck. And I feel like I’ve seen this before, so I have to ask… Do you maybe still have feelings for Natasha?”

His eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “That is not what-”

“And that is not an answer.”

“I…” he begins, only to pause to collect his thoughts. “I have had the tremendous opportunity of curating for a successful gallery and overseeing its expansions. And that is on top of my day job at the paper and making sure I am pulling my weight as a co-parent. I’m barely in the same place for five minutes, so quite frankly, ma, by definition I think that’s the opposite of being stuck.” When Sarah’s pointed glance does not let up, he sighs. “Look… if the lack of two more seats at our Christmas table this year is any indication, I’d say my feelings weren’t any good on a one-way street. If I were stuck, I’d still be standing on it, but like I just said...”

Sarah puts her hands up. “Well, if all the hatchets are buried…” she says as she moves off the stool and slings her purse over her shoulder. “No harm in asking then, is there?” She reaches over to the counter, pushing his phone back to him and nodding towards the screen. “You don’t get any of these moments back, Steve. So if there’s any chance you can be a part of them instead of watching from afar, try.” With a smile, she leans in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you Sunday at brunch.”  

Sleep eludes him later that night as he watches the shadows dance across the ceiling, his mind replaying the conversation he had with Sarah. As he ruminates on its substance, he’s suddenly transported back to that night almost two years ago when Natasha had received her award from the Journalists’ Guild. At that point, their relationship had plunged into this strange and confusing pitfall. They had gone from living together as Natasha recovered from her awful fall, falling into domestic bliss as they did, to her serving him a custody agreement in his office seemingly in a blink of an eye. When he approached her that night for a dance, all he truly wanted was to erase the distance and the silence that had grown between them. But sometime in the middle of them swaying along to a soft string tune, she had informed him that she was going to take the job in London, and as he remembers how her words had made him feel then, hurt washes over him anew. She had pulled the rug from underneath him, sending him into free fall that, by the time she was accusing him of having never wanted their child in the first place, and asking him if she had a reason to stay, he was frozen. Speechless. Powerless to stop her from walking away and disappearing into the crowd.

Navigating their relationship after that night was incredibly difficult. They were both hurt, and understandably so, but giving each other space became nearly impossible when Natasha’s pregnancy spurned more health complications. They weren’t grave, thankfully, but it was enough to bring them to the sober realization that regardless of what had transpired between them, they couldn’t let their feelings get in the way of prioritizing the one thing that meant the world to the both of them. And by the time Isabel was born, the effort they’d both put in to make their circumstances work was so much that he told himself that it did not matter that his feelings for Natasha were not only lingering, but also brewing deep – rocking the boat was the last thing the three of them needed.

Further, what he had told his mother hadn’t been a lie. Feelings are no good on a one-way street. Perhaps there was a point where Natasha had felt the same way about him as he felt about her, but that was all moot now. In the end, she had gotten on the plane to London, and though he wanted nothing more than to tell her how he truly felt as they said their goodbyes at the airport, he still did not know with a certainty if that would have been enough. That, his love was a compelling enough reason for her to forego an opportunity that she’d been working towards her whole life. So instead, he told her the one thing he knew she’d do anyway – go and succeed. And if the reviews of the paper she’s helming and their cordial co-parenting relationship are anything to go by, it’s clear that staying mum was the right call. 

It’s then that the merit of Sarah’s earlier argument becomes clear. While spending Christmas together isn’t something they’ve ever discussed, with the both of them moving forward, perhaps there really was no harm in asking. Perhaps what’s in the past can stay in the past. Perhaps Christmas didn’t have to be so somber this year.Before he can change his mind, he reaches for his phone. 

Natasha holds her breath as she creeps out into the hallway, relief crashing down on her like a ton of bricks when she successfully clicks the door shut without hearing a cry. With a sigh, she brings a hand up to the bridge of her nose, pinching down and letting her eyes fall shut in exhaustion. Isabel’s been restless the last couple of days, waking up intermittently and distraught for reasons that she cannot seem to figure out. To top it all off, despite the holidays fast approaching, her workload only seems to grow exponentially, and with the recent lack of sleep, the fatigue is getting harder to stave off.With a heavy exhale, she straightens up, willing herself back to her living room and to where she left her laptop on the couch. 

The words on the open document on her screen are ones she’s read enough times that she can recite them verbatim from memory, and yet, as she tries to come up with the next sentence, her mind draws a blank. With a groan, she pushes her screen down shut. Writing has always been her outlet of choice, allowing her to clear her head by losing herself in the topic of her current piece, and for it to fail her now when she’s most in need of a catharsis, she can’t help but feel even more untethered.The ding of her phone cuts through the silence, and she looks towards where it’s resting on the cushion to see an email notification pop up. 

Picking it up, she glides a finger over the bubble on the screen and sighs when she sees the subject line read: 

URGENT – Meeting w/ PR tomorrow

Without reading the contents, she closes her email app, deciding that at two in the morning, she just does not have the mental bandwidth to deal with any more work woes. But as she does, her photo stream appears, and a video begins to play. The camera zooms in, showing Steve carefully lifting a six-month-old Isabel up to blow bubbles on her belly, and she stops to watch Isabel giggle. In her desperation to soothe Isabel tonight, she had decided to play the video as she rocked her to sleep, and much to her relief, it had worked. Within minutes, and with Steve’s voice on loop in the background, Isabel had finally gone to bed.It’s when the frame switches to Steve and Isabel playing peek-a-boo that she finds her throat tightening. When she had moved six months ago, she had believed that not only was it the right decision, but also that the challenge of a new job and readjusting to a different country would aid her in moving on. But as Isabel’s soft coos and Steve’s laughter from the video fills the room, the sounds only seem to further underscore how big and empty her flat feels.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the audio cutting off, and she glares at the screen in anticipation of another work-related email, but her eyes only widen in surprise when she sees a text from Steve.

Hey, do you have time to talk tomorrow morning (late afternoon your time)? Just had a question…

As she reads the text, her eyebrows furrow. While they communicate several times a week, it’s only so he can video chat with Isabel or so she can send him Isabel’s latest photo. It’s not like him to shoot her a text out of the blue, and it’s even more so unusual for him to be vague about the subject. She bites her lip as she contemplates a reply, typing something out only to delete it. By her fourth attempt, her mind begins to race with a deluge of questions. With a huff, she puts her phone down, and finds herself almost grateful when she catches the porch light next door flicker on through her window. Hurriedly, she gets up, running through her foyer and hastily throwing her door open just as her neighbor is about to place their key into the lock. “Any chance you’re up for a nightcap?” she asks, biting her lip. 

Her neighbor turns, looking every bit as tired as any reasonable person returning home at this hour should. Nevertheless, he smirks. “When you’re offering?” he asks. “Always.”

“Long week, huh?” she asks later on as they sit on her couch, each clutching a glass of wine.

“Endless,” he says as he angles to face her. “Two back-to-back shifts with a twelve-hour surgery somewhere in between that nearly went critical, to be exact.”

“Nothing the great Dr. Laufeyson couldn’t handle, I’m sure,” she says, eyeing him knowingly.

“The patient survived, if that’s what you’re alluding to,” Loki says, prompting them both to laugh.

Her gaze falls to her wine, watching the dark liquid swirl as she rotates the glass in her hand. “Must be nice, though,” she says, “knowing what you do saves lives.” She looks over at him as she adds, “That of children, especially.”

“It is,” he agrees. “They’re wonderful and pure, as I’m sure you know. Not yet privy to the trickery and harshness of the world at large like we adults are... But that’s a conversation for a different time.” He takes a sip of his wine before arching a brow at her. “So, tell me, Miss Romanoff. What is it that has you keeping me from my bed?”

She scoffs. “Didn’t realize I had the power to make you do things you didn’t want to do.”

“I’d do anything for you and that little angel of yours,” he says before shrugging. “You know that.”

Loki’s words bring a smile to her face. For all her struggles in the last six months, meeting and getting to know him has been one of the bright spots that’s kept her going. That, and the fact that he lives next door and is up at ungodly hours like she is, is convenient – especially on nights like this when she could really use someone to talk to. It’s with that reminder that she sighs and goes about catching him up on everything that’s been plaguing her mind since the last time she saw him. When she finally gets to Steve’s text, she hands him her phone. “I’m probably just over analyzing it,” she says. “For all I know, he probably just wants to FaceTime with Izzie more.”

“Then why not just get to it then?” Loki challenges. “Natasha, let’s be honest about what this is really about.”   

She shakes her head. “I just said that he-”

“I don’t mean about him,” Loki says, sighing when she stares confusedly at him. “You’ve basically just admitted to missing the man-”

“I said no such thing!” 

Loki shoots her a withering look. “Do you’ve any idea how many parents deny how much sugar they’ve fed their kids as I hold the results of their child’s blood work in my hands?” He scoffs. “It’s easy to say things, Natasha, but you cannot deny what is so. I assume you sulking in the dark and watching videos of him and Izzie aren’t just because you’re feeling nostalgic.”

“What do you want me to say, Loki?” she asks. “That I’m freaking out about this because I’m... lonely? Tired? Tipsy?” She chuckles, but it’s humorless, hollow. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she adds, “or that moving thousands of miles away was for nothing seeing as I’m still so pathetically in love with someone who clearly doesn’t love me back and who can seemingly pull me apart with a single text?”

“Only if that’s the truth,” Loki says, making her shoulders sag in defeat. “Natasha, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He takes her hand in his, causing her to look at him. “I simply wanted you to be honest about what’s at play here.” He sighs. “I don’t claim to know what or how he feels. And for that matter, what you truly do, and I will not pry. But what I do know is that you are smart, strong, gorgeous, and any man would be lucky to have you. The ones that don’t see that? They’re idiots and they don’t deserve you.” Her lips quirk at that, and he smiles. “Remember that the next time you think one text from someone can pull you apart, hm?”

Loki punctuates his words with a gentle squeeze to her hand, and as she lets the gravity of his sentiment sink in, she nods. “Thanks,” she says, laughing when he only winks and brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles.  

By the time Loki bids her goodnight and she makes it to bed, her mind feels a little clearer. Maybe she’s right and that whatever it is Steve wants to ask her is something as small as wanting more time to talk to Isabel, but the reality is that she’ll never know if she doesn’t find out. And if it turns out to be something that takes a wrecking ball to her heart all over again, if what Loki said is anything to go by, then maybe she isn’t giving herself enough credit. She has made it this far – scars and all.

With that in mind, she reaches for her phone and searches for Steve’s message to type out her reply.

Sure! Talk to you then.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

[dreaminpeaches]

Hi! I actually want to know more about Casual Nexus since it was the first paracosm I saw when I was getting into the community so I would love to hear more about it!!

@dreamyblur

(CW: Final Fantasy 15 Spoiler)

Okay, so like I stated before Casual Nexus is a patchwork of all of my favorite pieces media (almost ever), its kind of like smash in a way but a slice of life instead of fighting to the death

My parame lives in a big house on a hill that over looks the city below, its kind of like the house from "When Marnie was There", she has a big house because sometimes some paras like to stay over for like a few days (or even weeks) and sometimes its a lot of them (which is always fun), they have their own houses of course but my parame's house is so far out and they usually end up staying over really late that its just easier for them to crash

Just about all of the paras in Casual Nexus that my parame knows is either slightly or completely based of a character from a tv, movie, game, etc.

I usually let the paras keep their memories of whatever event they just came from unless I just dont like how their story ended or they liked died in said universe, they'll live in this one and usually dont remember dying or any of the events/moments leading up to then and other characters who also knew said dead person in other universe, act like nothing bad happened.

The paras will also remember the events that happened in the daydream version of their original universe, my para me in that universe shares the same memories in Casual Nexus and the paras still see my Casual Nexus para me as (insert whatever universe para is from) parame.

Like for example, the main dudes from FF15 still remember the adventures they went on with the para me in that universe and to them, the parame in Casual Nexus is the same person and as treated as such, and they often make references and reminisce about the past adventures, of course in my daydream version of events they ALL lived at the end (spoilers for Final Fantasy 15), and the one that died doesn't have memories of his death.

How paras end up in Casual Nexus is just I'm usually like "Wow, I really like these characters I would love to see them in a casual setting or continue their current casual vibes they have going on" and like a puzzle piece the important plot buildings/places or buildings/places that I just think are cool are plopped in, and paras just load in and act as if they've always lived in the city

While Casual Nexus acts mostly like a regular city, there are parts of the area that are high fantasy like on the outskirts of the city theirs a candy land like area and strawberry shortcake like strawberry patch, there are other places that are modeled after Mario Party boards, and that's where my parame and paras go to play Mario Party (which usually happens when I'm playing Mario Party IRL..*cough*alone*cough*), other games like Mario Kart course also have an actual area in the city (so yes there is a floating rainbow road above the city where my paras go to play Mario Kart sometimes)

Games like Wario ware -- like the microgames take the form of dares and challenges usually at sleepovers or whenever a few paras crash for a night, which always makes things really wacky and fun when those happen.

Movies that I'm watching IRL (rather its one I've seen before or nah, usually movies that none of the paras are from or else that would be too meta for my brain to handle) are treated like Mystery Science Theater or any group of friends hanging out and watching movies together, a lot of commentary, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying, sometimes just pure confusion.

Alot of the food/restaurants in the city are based of fictional ones (of course) but some are based off of cool restaurants and/or food I seen on places like Instagram or tumblr (especially the very trendy and hip ones) that I would like to try someday...

The current group of paras I have recurring in Casual Nexus are from Final Fantasy 15, Fire Emblem 3 Houses, Sk8 Infinity, MySims (OG and Kingdom), Infinity Train (mostly book 4), and Fosters Home (ironically, but I've been rewatching that show I've never felt so seen as a daydreamer..oof) weird assortment of paras I know, but that's how my brain works, some characters from The World Ends With You Neo are probably going to become citizens as well I can JUST FEEL IT!

I like the idea of having a city because then I don't feel bad for not checking up on a para because I can just think like "Oh, (insert para name here) has just been busy with their life in the city and hasn't had enough time to come hang but once they get some free time, they'll hit me up"

Lastly, this goes with saying but I'mma say it anyways the Casual Nexus paracosm doubles as a modern AU for any paras that are from a medieval or past time period.

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 22]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just 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 edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

The hope is to work on this for quite a bit today. Please come keep me company with asks if you feel so inclined.

Chapter 6

“Really, Khalid,” Janus said, storming into his boss’s office. “A yellow?” It had been about a week since the 1920s incident, and his incident report had finally been cleared. Sure, it wasn’t a red or a black and he wasn’t facing any reprimand, but it should have been a green.

She looked up at him, clearly unconcerned. “There was an incident,” she said. “You handled it well, but there was one. Therefore, yellow.”

“It wasn’t a time travel incident! It was a rouge time traveler.”

“Janus, you helped me make these rules,” she said impatiently.

“Which is why I know this is bullshit,” he snapped.

 She rolled her eyes. “If it was anyone else, you would agree with me. While you didn’t go against protocol and had no time related incidents, the fact of the matter is, you were still distracted by this ‘rouge time traveler,’ didn’t complete your mission, and were arrested.”

“He was good,” Janus said. “You can’t fault me for that. He also could be dangerous and you’re busy handing out yellows instead of working to track him down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We are working on tracking him down,” she said. “We have done an analysis on the mask and found fibers dating to the 2010s and some DNA. Though it isn’t exactly a high priority.”

 “We have no idea who he is or what he’s planning to do. Why is that not a high priority thing?”

“At the moment?” she asked. “Because we have reports of a time bomb being activated.”

“What?” Janus asked sitting up. “When?”

“New Years Eve going into the year 3,000 in Brazil,” she said. “Which you’d know about if you’d bothered to check your integration port this morning before storming into my office.”

“It’s my mission?” Janus asked.

“The incident investigation is over and your active again despite the dreaded yellow,” she said, clearly making fun of him a bit. “So, yes, and it’s a high priority mission, so I’ll be running it.”

 “Who all is going?” he asked.

“Other than the two of us, Remus, Lena, and Fred,” she told him. “We leave in three hours, so, you might want to run off to Rhi before Fred gets to her and ties her up for an hour on details.”

Janus nodded and got to his feet. He turned back at the door. “I still don’t deserve the yellow,” he hissed.

She waved him off. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Picani.”

He ground his teeth a bit about the dismissal of his worries, but his resentment was slightly soothed by the fact that she’d assigned him to go on such a high priority mission and with only senior agents.

 He took the advice and grabbed Remus from the office, noting Lena hadn’t been able to wrangle Fred yet as she was still at her desk, and they both headed off to see Rhi.

A few hours later, they were all in decontamination together, decked out in truly god-awful costumes. The turn of the third millennia had been a wild event, and the best way to fit in was to look like you’d grabbed something from every century in recorded human history, dyed it in neon paint, and rolled around in a vat of glitter.

Remus had opted to stick his head in a vat of thick glow in the dark green paint that costuming had offered them, and it wasn’t even going to be slightly disruptive to their covertness. It was so caked on that Janus couldn’t even recognize him.

 In fact, costuming had frowned when Janus had insisted he not get his hair dyed and instead wore a bowler hat. They had required him to have flowers made out of glitter on it.

There were five people waiting for them when they landed 6 hours before the turn of the millennia. Three were touchdown agents, including Remy, and two were on location tech support. Usually it would be overkill to have that many people there just for support even with five agents in the field, but today the TPI needed to be cautious because they were planning on instituting a time lock.

Time bombs were dangerous things that would ripple through time if not contained. Even if it did end up going off (killing everyone in its reach), the time lock would serve to prevent most damage outside of the city and, more importantly, the year it was planted.

 Janus had only been in two time locks before, and he was one of the most senior agents in the TPI, outranked only by the founder: Lia Khalid. Time locks were designed to keep all time linear in a certain fixed time and geographical area as well as prevent any time travel in and out. Once it was engaged, all forms of time travel would not work for the duration, bar the pin device. Khalid was already switching out her regular timepiece with the slightly bigger one that was designed to support the time lock.

There was a failsafe back at the TPI that could be engaged in an emergency, which was why tech support was here, but other than that, the only thing that could break the time lock was that timepiece, and it would break the moment the time lock ended.

 As soon as it was on Khalid’s wrist, she looked up at them all. “Our information says the time bomb was planted in the costume of one of the ‘Millennium Birds’ who are the organizers of the different events,” she said. Janus had seen a photo of the identical costumes in the mission details. They were all robe like garments with giant fans of feathers coming from the neck that coalesced in a peak a foot above their head to hold a fake bird egg. At least they’d be easy to find. “There are 25 of them throughout the city. We need to find each of them. So, we don’t double count, you’ll need to subtly,” her eyes touched on Remus, “scan each one you find for the bomb and tag them with a tracker if it’s not on them. You can view the already tagged ones, as well as the rest of us on your timepiece even once the time lock is engaged. When you find the bomb, call it in.”

 They all nodded, and Khalid looked over at one of the techies. She nodded at her and then the techie flipped a couple of switches. “Three, two, one,” the techie said. There was a slight shift in the air that most people would disregard, but Janus as a seasoned time traveler could feel the change even before his wrist buzzed. He glanced at his timepiece to see it had a big red ‘X’ across its display. He tapped it and was still able to bring up the map of the city with 10 green dots on it all clustered together in their current location.

 After that, he tested the scanner on his timepiece that he would use to search for the bomb, just to make sure the time lock hadn’t messed anything up with his equipment. He glanced up to see everyone else was doing the same.

“Keep in contact,” Khalid said before everyone split up. Janus and Remus started by going North while Fredrick and Darlene were to go South. Khalid was a floater who would tag any Birds she saw but was mostly there for backup and orders.

Janus and Remus stepped into the chaos of New Years Eve before the turn of the third millennia. The streets were already swamped with people and it would only be getting worse the later it go.

“Where should we start?” Remus asked.

 “Let’s go all the way North to the games area,” Janus said. “We can work our way back here.”

“Okay!” Remus said. “I wonder if they have those fun little genetically modified goldfish as prizes. I’ve always wanted to eat one and see if I end up getting whatever design was on the fish on my body.”

Janus gave him a disgusted look.

“What?! People eat fish all the time!”

Janus shook his head. “We’re not playing the games anyway. We have work to do. Important work.”

“Boo,” Remus replied. Janus chose to ignore him as he spotted one of the Millenia Birds letting people into the gaming area.

 They walked over towards the entrance. Janus got in range first and moved to subtly scan the Millenia Bird, Remus doing the same the next moment. After a second, Janus’s timepiece buzzed and lit up red, meaning the bomb was within range. “Well, that was easy,” he said. “It was on the first one we found.”

“Uh…” Remus said. “Jan.” When Janus looked, he was holding up his wrist to show his green lit time piece.

“What?” Janus asked. He quickly moved to rescan the Millenia Bird, and his timepiece came up green as well. Which, meant the bomb was not in range, even though the Millenia Bird had not moved. “But…” He and Remus’s eyes met, and they quickly both started turning in a circle to look at the crowd around him. No one looked like they’d just stolen a time bomb off the Millennial Bird, but then Janus’s eyes caught on a man. He blended in perfectly to his surroundings. He was wearing the disgusting garb of the times, a large light blue piece that bubbled near his hips, and had most of his skin covered in rainbow neon paints. Yet, something about him, the curl of his hair or the way he moved, drew Janus’s eyes to him. He recognized the man immediately even in a completely different dressing style. Yet, what cinched it was the moment Janus’s eyes met his and they seemed to sparkle slightly in the afternoon sun. The next moment, the person Janus knew as Pat, turned to disappear into the crowd.

 Chapter 7

“Him,” was the only thing Janus said before taking off after the figure who had just disappeared into the game area.

“What?” Remus’s voice followed after him. “Janus! What?!”

Janus did not pause, just continuing to run after Pat, hopping over two barricades as a shortcut. Janus cursed when he lost sight of the man for just a moment near the prize table filled with colorful goldfish, but he was able to spot him once again walking into one of the tents. Janus blasted into the tent. It was a game where they raced rats, and when Janus entered, Pat was cooing at one of them.

 “Who’s a tiny little squishy precious baby?” he was asking one of them, wiggling his pointer finger at it.

“You,” Janus growled stepping up to him.

He turned and tilted his head at Janus with a frown. “Um, me?” he asked, pointing to his chest, all sorts of innocent, but Janus could see a spot of hidden amusement in his eyes.

“Where is it?”

His eyebrows drew together, but it was an act. It was clearly an act! “Where is what?”

“The…” he glanced around them at the people surrounding them. “Thing you just took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Pat said with a frown.

 “Oh, no,” Janus said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fooling me twice is not an option.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Pat said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Just then, Remus jogged into the tent. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s him,” Janus said pointing. “He took it. He has it.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Patton said. He looked over to Remus with a confused frown.

Remus looked at Janus. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “It’s him. It has to be him. He’s the mask guy.”

Remus squinted at Pat. “He is?”

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not. I haven’t worn a mask all night. I just did the face paint,” he pointed to his cheeks.

 Remus raised his wrist and his timepiece lit up green. He looked at Janus.

“I lost sight of him for five seconds. He must have stashed it somewhere,” Janus said. He turned on Pat. “Where did you put it?”

“…Are you,” Pat asked, his eyes going back and forth between Janus and Remus, “… the police?”

“We are, actually,” Khalid said as she stepped into the tent. Remus must have called her. She inserted herself between Janus and Pat. “Agent Khalid,” she said, offering a hand with a smile. Pat looked at it in surprise and then smiled back hesitantly as he took it. “Apologizes, one of the big game prizes was stolen by someone matching your description. Would you mind coming down to security for questioning? Just to clear it up.”

 “Oh,” Patton said, hesitant. Janus expected him to refuse outright, but then he said. “Uh, sure.”

“Thank you very much, Mr…”

“Jonas,” Pat told her earnestly. “Do I need to be handcuffed?”

“No,” Khalid said. Janus frowned at her, but she ignored him. “It’s just a talk for now.” She gestured to the tent entrance. “Come with us.”

He did without argument, and Remus and Janus followed behind the both of them. Khalid did not lead them back to the base, but to a little spot that said “security” near the center of the event. Remy was already there waiting for them at a desk.

 “Remy, would you please take Mr. Jonas to go sit down?” she asked.

“Sure, boss,” Remy said, standing up. He led Pat away.

Khalid turned to Janus and Remus once they were out of earshot. “What is going on?”

“It’s the mask man,” Janus said, “the one from 1923, and my scanner said the time bomb was on the Millenia Bird outside the games entrance, but then it was gone the next second, and I saw him, and then he ran away.”

“So, does he have it on him?”

“No. I lost sight of him, and he must have stored it somewhere, but I know he took it.”

10264

“He’s the man from 1923?” she asked.

“Yes! Remus, that’s him, right? You recognize him.”

“Well,” Remus said thoughtfully. “He was in a mask, and it was dark in the room with the necklace. Other than that, I only really saw his back, and he was wearing pants. Mr. Jonas is wearing a dress, so I can’t really tell if their asses match.”

“Okay, but I was with him for hours. I swear it’s him, and I swear he took it,” Janus just about shouted.

“We’ll question him,” Khalid placated, “and Fred and Lena will keep looking in the meantime.”

 “He knows where it is,” Janus insisted. “I swear.”

“Okay,” Khalid said, before leaving to follow where Remy and Pat had gone. She stopped Janus with a hand on his shoulder. “I think Remus and I will do the interrogation.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You know the most about him, so observe from the sidelines and see if he makes any mistakes that indicate you’re right.”

“That’s just to placate me and you know it.”

“Observation’s over there,” she said pointing.

He got a thumbs up from Remus as he walked by, and Janus glared at his back before walking off to the indicated location.

 He watched as Remus and Khalid entered the room, and Remy left it. Remy joined him in the observation room after leaving and leaned against the wall.

Pat was sitting at a table and watched Remus and Khalid with that same rubbish placid confusion that he had before. “So,” Khalid said, “Mr. Jonas.”

“You can call me Nick,” Pat interrupted.

“Lia,” Khalid replied. He smiled at her happily. “So, are you enjoying your day?” she asked.

“I am!” he replied. “It’s a big day. You only get to see the turn of a millennia once in your life.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid said. “Doing anything special for it?”

 “Um, not really,” he said. “Other than the party. I’m going to meet up with my roommates after dinner. Kevin doesn’t like this sort of thing, and Joe couldn’t come.”

“Your roommates,” Khalid said, considering him. “Do you live around here?”

“Uh huh,” Pat replied.

“Do you have any ID?”

“I do, want me to get it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pat unzipped one of the bubbles on his waist and handed her a chip. “Remus, would you mind going out and getting the ID scanner?” she asked, even though her timepiece would be able to read it.

“Ah, shit,” Remy said. “Props. What do those things even look like?”

 As Remy scrambled to find something that would pass for an ID reader so “Nick” didn’t get suspicious of Khalid using her timepiece, Janus watched the two alone in the room like a hawk.

“I see you’re wearing a dress inspired by the 2770s,” Khalid noted, as Remus came to stand next to him.

“Yeah!” Pat replied. “Joe made it for me. He’s really good at fashion design!”

“Can I see?” she asked.

With a happy smile, he reached over the table to let her get a look of the sleeves. Janus saw her subtly scan the fabric, probably to make sure it was from the 2990s and not actually from the 2770s. Considering she didn’t mention it, Janus assumed it checked out.

 Remy came back with some sort of device then and handed it to Remus who saluted and wandered back into the interrogation room. Khalid pretended to scan the ID in her hand. She handed it back to him without comment. “So, you said you live with your roommates: Joe and Kevin?” she asked.

“Yep!” he replied. “We’re practically like brothers.”

“Would you mind calling them?”

“Erm,” he titled his head like he was confused by the question. “Well, like I said, Joe is a bit busy, but I could definitely call Kevin.

“Here,” Khalid said, “use my phone.”

“I have my own,” he said with a frown.

“Humor me,” she requested.

“Uh, okay,” Pat agreed. He took the offered 2999 phone and dialed a number on it. Khalid reached over to put it on speaker.

“Hello?” a voice asked after a few seconds.

“Um, hey Kevin, it’s Nick.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “Hello Nick, is something wrong? Why are you calling me from someone else’s phone?”

“I’m fine, I think.” He looked up at Khalid. “Why am I calling him exactly?”

“Hello, I’m Officer Khalid,” Khalid said. “I just wanted to confirm that you are Nick Jonas’s roommate, and he does live in Manaus.”

“Yes, we live together with our other roommate,” the man replied flippantly. “Officer? Is something wrong?”

“I believe there was just a case of mistaken identity,” Khalid said.

“Bullshit there was!” Janus hissed, though she could not hear him.

“No need to worry,” Khalid continued.

“I’m good Kevin,” Pat said.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Kevin asked.

“Don’t be Paranoid, Kevin. I’ll see you Tonight for the New Years Celebration. You know I Live to Party.”

“I am hanging up now,” Kevin said.

“No! Comeback.” The line went dead. Pat handed the device back to Khalid.

She took it and smiled at him. “Give us just a couple of minutes,” she requested. He nodded easily, and she and Remus exited the interrogation room. “I… think we’re done here,” Khalid said.

“No, he’s lying,” Janus insisted, and got a dubious look in return. “I know he is! Remus!”

“The alibi is pretty solid…” Remus said, “and he doesn’t have the bomb on him.”

“Oh, come on,” Janus said. “You can’t say there is nothing fishy going on here.”

Khalid and Remus shared a look. “Janus,” Khalid said. “I respect your intuition. It is usually very good, but you have been a bit intense about the man from the 1920s, and I think that may be blinding you a bit...”

“I am not imagining this!” Janus said. “That’s him and he took it.”

“You only met him once while he was wearing a mask,” Khalid pointed out with a frown, “and you didn’t see him take the bomb, did you?”

“No, but he looked at me and I knew,” Janus argued. They both gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, come on!”

“You know that’s a little weak, Jan,” Remus said.

“Let me talk to him,” Janus requested. “Just give me five minutes to talk with him.”

Khalid raised one eyebrow. “Fine,” she agreed. “You have five minutes, but after that, you have to let it go. We can’t waste any more time.”

 Chapter 8

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

 “Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U.-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

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Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

 “Game?” Pat asked. “Macy I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

 “There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Remus, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god.”

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said, slamming the door closed behind them.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

 Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what mask guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

 “Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

 “You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the integration room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

 “Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

 “You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyway, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Remus!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

 “Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

 Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

 “It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

 Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

 “He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

 “Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

 Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

 They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

 Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

 “You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

 She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

 He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

 Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

 Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

 The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

 “Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

 “Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

 Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

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Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

 Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

 “I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

 “Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

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“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

 Luckily Sliver Mountains ended up only being about an hour away from the TPI by time adherent travel, but considering Janus was used to his travel being instantaneous, it was an aggravating trip. He had to show ID and be buzzed up to the fourth floor since it was usually locked to everyone not traveling by timepiece or who worked in the office.

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

 Janus nodded and sat, waiting for time to slowly tick by. Virgil arrived after a few minutes, lugging a giant bag with him. He caught sight of Janus and wordlessly jerked his head towards the hallway. Janus followed him.

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

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“Do you know why the lockdown was instituted?” Janus asked. Virgil shook his head, so Janus explained briefly that they had been trying to find a timebomb on the eve of the year 3000, but it had been swiped by a free agent time traveler. “Some of the things seemed to be references to things that I couldn’t place, and I was wondering if you would recognize any.”

“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

 “Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“Yo-you’re going to have,” his sentence was broken by a giggle, and actual full-fledged giggle, “have to give me a minute.” With that, he sort of listed to the side and seemed to purposefully fall off his chair onto the floor under his desk.

Janus blinked and when he didn’t surface after a moment, he stood up to lean over the desk and look down at him. Virgil had his arm thrown over his beat red face, as he shook from what Janus thought was suppressed laughter.

 “What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

Virgil pulled himself out from under his desk and grabbed his bag of phones. He dug through it for a few seconds before pulling one out and handing it to Janus. “I have a lab for my students where they get preloaded phones from the early 21st century and are supposed to guess the demographics of the person who owns it. This one is an iPhone 3 meant to belong to a pre-teen to teenage girl from the year 2009. Look under music artists starting with the letter ‘J.’”

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Confused, Janus scrolled through the old style phone, finding the music app and opening it easily. Upon getting to the ‘J’s, he immediately paused on an artist called the ‘Jonas Brothers.’ He clicked on it and read a few of the song titles. They weren’t all there, but…

“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

Janus did, listening to the fairly standard pop like intro from the time period. It wasn’t until he got to the lyrics saying, ‘He told me he built a time machine’ that he cursed, understanding exactly what Pat had been doing. When the singer a few lines latter proclaimed that his neighbor said ‘I’ve been to the year 3000’ he almost smashed the artifact to pieces right then and there.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

 Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

 “What happened?” Janus asked.

“We picked up a small time distortion in France 2027. At the moment, it is small enough not to cause any disruptions, but it is slowly growing, and we don’t know what caused it. Usually we’d just send surveillance agents at this stage, but considering what’s going on, I think it would be best to send a field agent. And it would just be you, because we don’t want to send too many people out at once.”

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

 “I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

In less then 3 hours, he was dressed for 2027 France and in decontamination. “Well,” he said out loud when he was given the all clear sign, “I hope I don’t explode.” He selected the coordinates on the timepiece and the next moment he was in a small alleyway in the city of Montpellier, France in 2027.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

 After a moment to get his bearings, Janus made his way out of the alleyway and onto a small street. The street was lined with restaurants and shops as people went about their daily lives. He carefully integrated himself into the crowd and began weaving his way through them. He needed to find the source of the distortion but doing a quick scan with his timepiece told him there wasn’t any sign of it yet. He’d have to wait for it to act up.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

 As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“Oh, you’re just a baby,” Pat laughed. “Don’t you get it yet? The two of us are out of sync timeline wise. You’ve been apparently running around with a much younger version of me, but all of that happened quite a while ago for me. Don’t worry though, it gets better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The time bomb has been long deactivated. Here,” he reached into his pocket and tossed him something. Janus caught it on instinct. “Proof. Don’t worry, we took all of the dangerous bits out years ago from my perspective.” It was the core of a time bomb, the time bomb Pat had stolen if he was to be believed. “You can tell your people it’s safe to remove the lockdown.”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

Pat reached up to pat his face. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll be seeing me later.” He twisted his wrist and a small electric current sparked between them. Janus jerked his hand away, and Patton smiled at him. “Or… earlier.” He winked, and then he was gone.

Janus cursed, but he didn’t have more than a moment to be angry because in the next second there was a yelp, and something landed on top of him. He was bowled over into a tangle of limbs and pained noises.

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

 Pat jumped to his feet, leaving Janus on the ground in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his tone much different then the one he’d been using a moment earlier. His hair was longer than it had been before, and if Janus looked closely, he did seem like he was a couple of years younger suddenly. Out of sync timelines. I’ll see you earlier. Holy shit.

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

 “It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“It is my business,” Janus said, “because for all I know, you are the cause of the time distortions I’m after. Considering that I doubt you have a license for that,” he waved at the odd looking timepiece of Pat’s wrist, “it’s very possible.”

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

 Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

“Just wait,” Janus answered grimly. He looked at Pat. “Usually I’d arrest you on the spot,” he said, “but I’m alone for this one, and that is far more important at the moment. So, have a nice day doing whatever bullshit you are doing.” He glanced at his timepiece.

 Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

 Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

 “You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Patton agreed, “but you did.”

 Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

 “Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

 Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

 Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

 When they got to the museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

[tracynotabi]

Riptide Day 2 / Undertow

September 11, 2021

D-Day.

Kevin, Ivan, Joey, and I were getting a ride from Spencer, who was also taking Narq to the venue, while Robert and Parker got a ride from someone else. Well, at least we didn’t have to walk to the venue. I didn’t pack sunscreen.

At 9am, about half an hour we were supposed to leave, Kevin gets a stomachache.

Me: He just needs to poop. Spencer: The classic.

We end up going to the lobby to wait for Spencer in Narq, which was fine considering we actually didn’t want Spencer, our ride, waiting for us.

Spencer: Okay, Narq’s just using the bathroom rq lol Me: Is he also having tummy problems Spencer: Nah just bein stoner and forgetting to do stuff lol Me: The classic

We go get Chick-fil-A and I’m sitting underneath the dashboard again by Kevin’s feet. I think the employees were very bewildered, as the woman on the other side of the window did a double take. I would, too, if I saw a smaller-than-average person just hiding underneath the dashboard sipping on a cup of Coke.

Some time after I get to the venue during doubles, I end up talking to Jimmy (j u m), when Kevin comes rushing over to me, a panicked look on his face.

Forgot to mention, but Kevin actually couldn’t get all of his poop out before coming to the venue and now it is back with a vengeance.

He tells me that he’s unable to go to any restroom because there were three stalls in the men’s restroom: two were occupied and one was clogged with poop.

He had tried flushing the poop one but it only made it worse. It just clogged more and the water level rose. If he had sat down and insisted on finishing, his balls would be touching the water and that’s a no-no.

He tried asking the front desk for other restrooms, but he was informed it was the only one. He was desperate and you could just see it in his eyes that he was about to break.

Me, using the big, wrinkly brain that I had, told him to use the women’s restroom. He froze, not even realizing that that was an option.

Now before anyone complains, hear me out.

I would rather be in a restroom with a male in the stall next to me, than exit the restroom and see someone standing outside the men’s restroom trying to wait for a stall with a shit stain in his pants. Excuse the vulgarity, but it’s true.

If you’re ever at one of my tournaments and you need to go and no male restroom is unoccupied, for the love of god, please fucking use the women’s restroom. I do not need this mess on my hands and you best believe I’m shoving myself in the men’s restroom if I gotta fucking go expel unicorns and rainbows.

I go to the restroom with Kevin and stand awkardly on my phone to keep watch, because he didn’t want any of the staff members actually seeing him and risk himself getting kicked out of the venue.

That would’ve been extremely unfortunate.

Luckily, nobody else needed to go use the restroom while Kevin was in there and he was able to safely compete his duty (lol).

If anyone is upset at my suggestion, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t about to not provide such a simple solution for Kevin’s emergency.

Anyway, the tournament start shortly after that.

First match I pay attention to is Kevin vs. Wombat. In my head, I think it’s pools so I shouldn’t worry too much. I try to watch Kevin’s sets, but it makes me physically ill sometimes because my anxiety is wracked up like crazy and I just want to throw up. Many have witnessed me walking away and trying to distract myself multiple times at multiple different tournaments.

It’s like that gory horror movie that you can’t keep looking away from.

Besides knowing that I get sick, I figured it would be fine since I actually enjoy trying to support my boyfriend and watch him come out of pools winners’ side. Not meaning any disrespect by Wombat, by the way. He’s great. Just realistic. It’s like how I expect Kevin to lose to Bob.

Kevin loses Game 1.

Ooh my tummy’s doing barrel rolls like the way Twisty did with that pullout bed. I look away but I’m just so distracted by the crowd noises.

I totally get it, though. Obviously, it’s sick that Wombat’s holding his own against Kevin, who is seed 3 of the tournament. I’d be excited, too, if my friend was making an upset on someone else. But Kevin’s my boyfriend, so obviously, I want him to win.

Kevin barely wins Game 2 and I’m like ooooh boy. My tummy’s going to town and I think I gag a little by how sick I feel. Gotta focus on getting Joey his next match. *deep breaths*

When heartswaptv airs the whole tournament, definitely check out the set. It was really good (as far as I can hear, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the rest of it).

Kevin comes over to me after he’s out of pools and I scold him for making me worried.

AND YOU NOW WHAT HE SAYS?

Kevin: Babe, it’s fine - I almost lost to Zeddy at Redacted City and I got 2nd. I’ll be fine. Me: T____T *incoherent whining noises*

Does Kevin thinks he’s fucking cute for saying that or something? I was not amused.

Since I didn’t have to volunteer TO the entirety of the tournament, I bounced around mingling with other people.

At one point, I get a message from Suvir in our group chat about how he, Sosa, and Narq were planning on coming to visit NorCal. Of course, since Narq was already here, I decided to just go up to him and ask.

Me: So I heard you’re coming to NorCal? Narq: I am? Me: That’s what Suvir said. *shows phone* Narq: I guess I’m going to NorCal!

Suvir: Narq doesn’t actually know. Sosa just said he’d take him with him and said Narq would agree to go because he’s Narq. Me: Oh that makes sense why he had no idea what I was talking about.

It wasn’t until around top bracket did things start to pick up. Not too many spoilers, because (1) no spoilers before they upload the vod and (2) I have a terrible memory when it comes to the matches.

I remember holding up Kevin’s phone to stream to our Discord because we had some non-PM player friends who wanted to see and I think Kevin wanted Thomas (ThundeRzReiGN) to give him some advice throughout the tournament. Not actually coach, but to critique his play.

As more and more top players fell, Kevin made it a goal to do his best not to fall into the landmine that was Losers’. So many heavy hitters were large threats to him: Techboy, Malachi, Akimi, Cloudburst...

Not to say that Winners’ side didn’t have their fair share of monsters: Peter, Parker, Kumatora, Twisty, Nogh, Lunchables...

Kevin’s first match in Top 32 was against Bongo, who people sleep on quite a lot. For those of you that don’t know him, he’s a Captain Falcon from NY who actually beat Kevin at Flex Zone 3 in 2018. Kevin had beaten him at Encore, but it wasn’t easy.

Not to mention Falcon is a pain the butt for Mario. Unfortunately, the match was not recorded (as far as I know), and it was a very exciting match from what I heard. I avoided watching it because based on how long it took, I knew it had to have been a Game 5. During that time, two matches have been finished on “stream.”

Kevin had said his match against Bongo was the toughest one he had - not to discredit his other opponents, of course - but according to him, it was the scariest and closest. Also the threat of being put into Losers so early would’ve made the climb to Top 8 a lot harder.

His overall goal was actually to make Top 8. Despite being a third seed and rank 5, what I’ve noticed about Kevin is that he does have doubts about himself quite often. He’s never complacent in his opponents and worries all the time about being upset and I don’t think anyone puts more pressure on him more than himself.

As I watched my friends progress through bracket, all I can think is there’s not much I can do. I don’t understand the game very much, despite my heavy involvement in the scene. In fact, more often than not, I believe I understand the game the least compared to everyone else.

A tangent from the actual tournament itself is coming, but I think I should address why I’m even in this community:

While everyone loves the game, I love the community behind it. I find it worth it to sit/stand in one location for hours at a time because it allows my friends to enjoy the game they love comfortably without worrying how the tournament is progressing. They can focus on their own growth and passion.

I think what I see is completely different. Like I said, I don’t really understand this game - I can’t differentiate uairs, bairs, d-smashes, etc. I compute it in my head, but can’t visualize it. I don’t recognize most combos - in fact, more often than not, I’m sitting there just staring at the screen kind of blankly. Sometimes, it does make me wonder if I really am part of this community because I don’t really understand the game.

I can’t say I particularly care too much about the game, but I understand how much of an impact it’s made on me and for that, I’m very thankful for this game because it’s led me to some great people.

Back to the actual event and less sap. lol. Is anybody still even reading?

For something put together in a mere two weeks, Trin and their team did an amazing job. Three recording set ups, graphics, a pot, a venue... props to them for gathering the scraps and making a whole out of it. And to think we almost didn’t go.

Madeline (Swanner) ended up coming and it was honestly so good to see her. We aren’t particularly close, but she’s someone I’ve come to care for and just want happiness for her.

Major spoiler, but I don’t think anybody who cares about PM/P+ doesn’t know Kevin won the tournament.

Everyone expected a pop-off, but Kevin just sat there, crying.

I don’t think there’s ever been anything that Kevin has been more passionate about. He loves this game; he loves this community. Never did it ever occur to him that he would win.

I wish I could say more, but honestly, him winning stunned me speechless. And if you didn’t know, the first thing he said after was that he had to call his mother.

His mom is one of his biggest supporters and I love her to death. She has such a huge heart and has never, ever frowned upon Kevin’s love for the game, whole-heartedly supporting it.

I hugged Maddy, because I can’t even imagine how heart-breaking it must be for her to see what could have been on the mainstage. I imagined how much it must’ve hurt her because she just loves the game and the community, but to see it constantly be torn down by Nintendo and her unable to do anything... Give Maddy a hug and thank her if you see her. She deserves the world.

We ended up walking home with PNW, Bob, Mar, Bongo, Cameron (LoyaL), Ivan, and a few others, honestly too dark to completely see and name. It was a very nice night.

We did, however, pass by the rundown house that definitely looked like if we were to talk in there, we’d be killed by the axe murderer that lived there.

Kevin also lagged behind a lot because his phone notifications were going off like crazy and I was worried he was going to just get lost in the darkness or get hit by a car. Stop looking at your phone when you cross the street, dammit.

We got back to our hotel room and ordered pizza - it was bad. God-fucking-dammit, Ohio, why do you suck so much? Kind of a shitty dinner to end the day on, but nothing else was open at 2am. FeelsBadMan.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #475

(from two days ago, oops)

What is your favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) I really like a steady rain tapping on the windows. Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not? No, because I'm ugly. It's annoying because I've been wanting to take pics with Girt considering even as just friends literally none exist of us, but yeah. I fucking hate taking pictures of myself and it takes a billion and two tries to get a picture I deem "acceptable" anyway. Were you named after anyone? No. What was the last comic book you read? I don't and never have read comic books. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. Describe the worst friend you have ever befriended. All things considered, somehow my former best friend was the worst. She was homophobic, racist, extremely self-centered, drama-driven, excessively bossy, ungrateful... I will never be able to explain how our friendship ever worked. If you found the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? Burn it. With certainty. We just aren't meant to live forever. What is the most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? 99% of my life has been Cringe. What is the worst thing someone could do on a date? Be distracted/not pay attention to the other, like by constantly using their phone. It's so rude. That would immediately make me lose interest in you. If you could turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? I dunno. What is something you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway? I was absolutely going to college as a kid. Fast-forward to the future, I've dropped out three times and am going nowhere. Little me saw me as so, so much more successful. Do you actually iron your clothes? No. Unless it's a formal occasion. Do you rent or own your current home? We rent. Have you ever used cursive after school, aside from your signature? My handwriting is naturally mostly cursive. Do you have your groceries delivered or do you buy them yourself? We order our groceries for pick-up, so we have to go to the store, but not in. Do you have a gym membership? Sigh. I do, but Mom and I have really been neglecting going since my time with my personal trainer ran out... What’s your favorite computer game genre? Horror, of course. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you ever been severely mentally ill? I am. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? EW no, that shit grosses me out so much. If someone’s laughing, do you instantly think they’re laughing at you? Suuuure do. How would you react if your parents told you they were having another baby? Well, they're divorced, Mom cannot stand my dad, and she also had a complete hysterectomy when she had ovarian cancer, so like... Have you ever had a garage or yard sale before? How much did you make? Over the course of my life, we've had a few yard sales. I don't remember how much we made at any. Have you ever had to evacuate your home for any reason? No. Which mythological creature is your favorite? DRAGONS. I love dragons. Have you ever been to a butterfly garden before? No, but that sounds amazing. What's the biggest bird you've ever seen up close? Oh my god y'all, when I volunteered once at a wildlife rehab center, I was FEET away from some sort of falcon. Guys, you would not believe JUST how big birds of prey are. I was shocked and in total awe. Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? More than once. Were you ever afraid of the dark as a child? I don't THINK I was? What is the strangest thing you’ve been asked? Something inappropriate that really pissed me off. What was your favorite game as a child? I was obsessed with the original Spryo trilogy and would play all three obsessively. What is the darkest thing you have seen on the internet? I don't know, dark shit. Do you crack your knuckles, neck or toes constantly? No, but ugh Girt does that with his neck and it drives me insane alsdkjfaljdlfkwe. Are you constantly catching colds or other sicknesses? No, my immune system is a legend. Are you afraid of mice? No, they're precious. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I go on vacations so irregularly that I can't really answer this. I've been on a vacation maybe twice in my entire life. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't like musicals. Will you willingly sing in front of other people besides your family? God no. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? No. I don't like soup. Who can never fail to make you laugh? Absolutely my boyfriend. He's the funniest person I know. Have you ever been on a tour bus? No. Do you prefer listening to things through headphones or speakers? Earplugs. Are you listening to music right now? No; I'm watching Gab play The Evil Within. Have you ever unbuttoned your ex’s pants? Just one of them, but we were together at the time. What are you planning on eating for dinner tonight if you haven’t already? Mom made pizza. What was the worst news you’ve heard this entire week? Girt's mother has Covid. He's vaccinated, but nevertheless, he's still getting a test done just to be safe, and also because if he's contracted it, I might have it. And that means my mother could get it, which just cannot happen, even if she's vaccinated, too. The poor guy is really freaking out about it, but ASTONISHINGLY, I'm not panicking yet. Girt's health has seemed fine, I'm fine, so... We'll just have to wait to see what his test says. Do you have a lot of trees around your house? What about buildings? No; yes. I hate living in the suburbs, it sucks here. Would you say either one of your parents are 'pack-rats?' No. Have you ever disowned anyone in your family? For what reasons? No. Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. Do you have freckles? Do you like/dislike them? Not on my face, no. I have a few randomly on my body though. Would you ever consider getting dreadlocks? No. Have you downloaded extra fonts for your computer? Oh, plenty. Who is the latest great YouTuber you’ve discovered? The latest, uhhhh. I'd probably say John Wolfe as a truly "great" one considering I watch him regularly now. Do you read the Bible regularly? Yeah, no. All the Bible does is piss me off, frankly. Name three patriotic songs you like. I don't know about three, but I do shockingly like this one country song with a name I can't remember. All I know is it has "red, white, and blue" in the title. ... I think. Oh! There's "Deutschland" by Rammstein, even though it's not about my own country. Has it ever snowed on your birthday? Maybe at some point as a kid? Idr. Do you like the way your name is spelled? No, actually. I wish it was "Brittney." It's more true to the pronunciation. Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest, and while I really shouldn't care, like believe what you want, it's a genuine pet peeve of mine when others base their fucking lives around what positions some goddamn stars are in in an infinite universe. They make decisions based on bullshit being spat at them that might not be suitable. I know, it's stupid to care, but I can never seem to NOT roll my eyes when I see/hear people blaming their flaws and shit on this stuff. Are you one of those people who has like a hundred apps on their phone? No; I have very few. What’s the band that you love even though you know they’re awful? I can't help but love some Blood on the Dance Floor songs. :x Do you coo over other people’s babies? No, not really. Like I can acknowledge a cute picture and be like "awww," but it's nothing I lose my mind over at all. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? The only high school friend of mine I'm still actively friends with/is still in my life is Girt, obviously. Like I have HS friends on Facebook that I still very much love and will react to what they post and sometimes comment, but we don't really talk-talk. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ That's not something I can afford to do. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Do you know both of your biological parents? Which one do you prefer? I do, and I love them both. Do you store a lot of pictures you’ve taken that no one else has seen? I'm a wanna-be photographer, of course I do. If you had to name your kid after an American state, which would you choose? Probably "Dakota" for either gender. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have your normal dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. Do/did you doodle on your books at school? My notebooks and binders, ohhhh yes. Actual school textbooks, absolutely not. Who’d you last see in a tux? The groom and groomsmen of the last wedding I shot. Who’s the bravest person you know? Sara. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No.

[act-addict-actors-matchups]

@ne-nene-ne said,

[1/2] Hi~ May I pls have a matchup? I'm a ♏, ISFP, 5'0 fem w/ medium length dark hair & eyes. I like wearing sweaters/sweatpants a lot! I love to draw & sing especially! I'd sing softly to my s/o if we're close & alone together. I often take endless pics of the sunset bc it's so pretty! Tbh I'm a loner. I'm shy, quiet, awkward and I like my alone time. I'm friendly and good-willing towards others nonetheless! I've been told I have a positive aura. I'm more chill, silly & playful w/ family!

[2/2] I can joke around w/ them! I have a short temper but I forgive just as quickly. I can be hard on myself bc I feel it's necessary to improve. I'm an appreciative person so I'll say "thank you" like 1000 times lol! I highly value family & honesty! My ideal s/o is someone family-oriented, devoted, and genuine. Bonus points if they're funny too! I'd like someone who I can slowdance to soft, jazz music w/. My love language is Acts of Service! Tysm! Take your time, stay healthy & stay safe! ❤

✧ Thank you so much for requesting a matchup love. Tumblr is not letting me tag you so hopefully you’ll see this. 😔 I wish you well during this challenging time. Hope you keep safe as well! 😷

I’d match you with: . . .

➜ HOW YOU TWO FIRST MET ; Juza Hyodo is that typical cold guy in school that everyone is lowkey scared of. That’s how he seems from outside anyway. You were asked by your biology teacher to borrow the books for the class’s current lesson from the library on the spot so you took a beeline for the shelves as fast as you could. But for god’s sake all the books were placed at the topmost part of the science shelves. You stood there for a good minute while glaring at the books overhead. You knew you were damned for good since there were no chairs nearby that were available and the librarian was nowhere to be seen. You stomped you feet in annoyance until you felt a looming presence behind you. A tall one. When you turned around, you saw Juza grabbing the books at ease and handing it to you. You thanked him quietly which surprised him because you actually didn’t quiver with fear or panic in his presence??? and you genuinely thanked him?? It was not usual for him to hear someone express their gratitude towards him. Even the cashiers from sweet shops he’d like to visit secretly we’re scared of him for heaven’s sake. After murmuring a little “‘S nothing.” he walked away. And that was the end of it. Or so you thought. The second time you met the purple haired boy was in a cafe. You were patiently waiting in the line for this so called Peanut Butter Pound Cake S'mores. According to your friends, it was one of the best desserts the cafe ever had. To test that theory, you decided to check the dessert yourself. Everything was perfectly normal until a young teenage boy of average height with fluffy pink hair and light blue eyes bumped into you, spilling a little of his drink on you. Yes, I’m talking about Muku. Baby boy was so scared and flustered, he apologized to you multiple times like crazy. Luckily it wasn’t anything hot so you didn’t burn yourself. Giving the boy a soft smile, you said it was fine and he shouldn’t worry about it. But he is a kind-hearted and modest boy with the motto "doing one good deed each day" so of course he offered you to give some of the Chocolate-Caramel Sandwich Cookies he had ordered before to apologize properly. Normally you would’ve reject the offer but with the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t find the heart to do so. While waiting for your order together, you learned what the boy’s name was and that he came here with his cousin. When you heard that the first image that popped into your mind was a soft looking person just like him you. After you got your order, the two of you made your way towards their table. And with that, your previous thought was thrown out of the window just like that. There he was, one and only Juza Hyodo, the person who helped you in the library, was sitting in a chair, quietly munching on one of the many sweets in front of him. When Muku announced that he was back, his eyes shot up to him and then shifted towards you. Yeah, it was awkward. Nevertheless, you tried to offer the tall boy a smile, which he just nodded his head, cheeks tilted pink to get his sweet tooth exposed to someone from school. After you sat down, Muku began to explain how he accidentally bumped into you and spilled some of his drink on you. Juza got the picture and said nothing. Though, gradually he started to become more comfortable. Before you knew it, you befriend the young teenage boy with fluffy hair. You told Muku how you two first met, which he only exclaimed how cool his cousin was and how the scene was just like from a shoujo manga. So yeah, your friendship with Juza started that day and slowly but steadily developed into something more. You would see him at school and chat with him, give him snacks to eat together on the rooftop etc.

➜ PERSONALITY COMPATIBILITY ; Let me just start of by saying that you two are really similar in terms of personality. A loner who is shy, quiet, awkward, likes alone time yet still friendly and good-willing towards others? Yeah, you get to point. When you're dating someone who has almost identical personality traits as you, reading them becomes easier. Juza is honest and critical of himself but is more than willing to work hard on it to improve himself and so are you. You two motive each other become better versions of yourselves, constantly pushing forward hand in hand ad I think that’s a beautiful thing in a relationship. You two have the same values. He deeply values his comrades and family so he would love it whenever he saw you getting along with Muku or Kumon. He’s very protective of those he holds dear, so watching you interact with them and care for them as if they were your own family would make him fall for you even more. The same goes for him as well. He’ d try his utmost best to get along with your family. Physical affection is OUT the window in the first start of your guys' relationship though. And when you guys DO start attempting physical contact, he'd be so stiff. Baby boy really hasn’t had a lot of experience in regards to how to treat others with affection outside of his family. 🥺 but deep down, Juza has a soft side. He’s a bit shy with showing his affections, but he tries his utmost best to convey his love to you― one of them being if you ever needed him support with ANYTHING honestly, he’ll always make it known to you that you have his full support and that he’s always right beside you through everything.

➜ SHARED ACTIVITIES ; With an delinquent-like appearance that often gives people a "scary" impression of him, I feel like Juza would rather spend time inside rather than outside. For those with a serious sweet tooth, baking, especially with a lover has a double benefit: It engages the two of you in an activity you probably don't do often, and you get to enjoy something delicious afterward. You two make an especially decadent dessert when you're feeling ambitious, or simply break out a boxed mix if you're short on time — or baking skills. At first times, there is a lot of trial and error and you guys end up getting covered in flour and such, a cheeky smile present on your face. These are usually the times where you get to hear Juza’s rare laughs as he joined in your joy. Feeling too lazy to bake something? Have a candy tasting. Satisfying your sweet tooth is a foolproof way to survive. Stock up on different colors of Starbursts, Gummi Bears or Worms, Sour Straws, Hi-Chews, and whatever else you are craving— and then eat your way through the rainbow together. Bonus points if you’re lounging off your sugar coma with a movie on the couch afterwards, he doesn’t particularly mind what kind so it’s totally up to you which genre you want to watch. This one is technically not a date but sometimes you, Juza, Muku and Kumon play board games. Depending on how competitive you are, this idea can be a little dangerous. (looking at you monopoly.) But it’s always a blast to spend time with people you love and cherish.

➜ ZODIAC COMPATIBILITY ; Juza’s birthday is on September 27, which makes him a Libra. When Libra and Scorpio come together in a love match, they tend to make a very emotionally connected and mutually satisfying union. Though Scorpio is a brooder who can get lost in the confusing welter of their own emotions, Libra’s proclivity for balance and harmony helps keep Scorpio even. Scorpio can return the favor to Libra with their characteristic powers of focus, a trait that Libra usually lacks. These two are very compatible due to their similar needs in a love relationship: Libra is the Sign of Partnership, and Libra is happiest when in a well-balanced and intimate relationship, while Scorpio thrives on emotional and sexual intimacy with their mate. These two Signs can make a very loyal, close and satisfying partnership. What’s the best aspect of the Libra-Scorpio relationship? The power they find in unity. They can accomplish a lot, whether they come together for a cause in the business or romantic sphere. They are both winners and they won’t give up, making theirs a relationship that takes care of business.

[inactiive-shit]

Eventually

Masterlist

Sanders Sides Fic

Warnings: implied rough past

Pairing: Logince

Words: 2,121

~~~~~

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” were the words Roman had uttered at the start of the night with a GameCube controller in hand, ready for a relaxing, easy win at a game that no one had ever beat him at. Logan had said, “Please. I was raised on Mario Kart. You wish you could beat me,” and aimed a rare smile just short of vicious at Roman. It had made his heart speed up and stumble, but he had shoved that whole mess back and grinned back as best he could before selecting a character.

But that had been a couple hours ago. Now, Roman finds himself the sore loser of a game that he thought he had in the bag. “Double or nothing!” he declares, throwing up his hand and almost losing his controller.

“We have not bet anything,” Logan says, but he doesn’t seem the least bit confused by Roman’s assertion. He leans back in the bean bag chair (he insisted he hated it but he had let Roman talk him into buying it, so really, who was the liar?) and smirks in that damn infuriating way that he always has. “But if you would like to figuratively lose more of your dignity, the choice is yours.”

Roman gasps in outrage and immediately selects his best character: Princess Daisy. “Oh, it is on like Donkey Kong,” he mutters. Logan snorts and selects his own favorite: Luigi. Not the worst choice he could make, but to ever imagine that Luigi could match Daisy in any way was, is, and always will be ludicrous.

“Which track?”

“It’s time to taste the rainbow,” Roman says. It’s his secret weapon, but when he was young he would play Rainbow Road for hours, over and over again. He can do this in his sleep. 

“I don’t - ah. Rainbow Road,” Logan says. “Interesting choice.” He settles into his seat as Lakitu drops down and the countdown begins. He looks far too smug for someone who is about to be dropped a couple steps down the totem pole, but Roman figures that will be rectified shortly. He doesn’t need to rub his imminent win in Logan’s face.

“Get ready to eat my dust,” Roman snarks anyway. He accelerates at the perfect moment and gets that extra boost of speed, but so does Logan. They are side by side for first place but it won’t keep up for too long. They speed around the bends like there’s no tomorrow, and for Logan’s Luigi, there isn’t. Roman swervs his car to the side and hits Logan. They bounce apart, but Logan flies off the track and has to be retrieved by Lakitu.

“Fuck you!” Logans exclaims, mashing the buttons on his controller despite knowing it won’t get him anywhere faster. Roman cackles and hits a speed boost, leaving Logan as far behind as he can. Logan continues to cuss as he finally gets dropped back on the track and promptly gets hit by a shell. Roman starts laughing so hard he almost drives over the edge of the road. He finishes the first lap in first place while Logan is still slowly working his way up the ranks from where he’d fallen to fifth.

Roman lets his eyes flit back and forth from his half of the screen to Logan’s, keeping a careful eye on where all the NPCs and his competition are. It’s only this that keeps Roman alive to the third lap. He sees when Logan hits an Item Box and gets a Spiny Blue Shell. As soon as he deploys it, Roman stops driving just long enough to be passed up by the Bowser in second place. The shell Logan threw takes him out and lets Roman begin his final lap still in first place with Logan muttering angrily under his breath.

“Get ready to taste defeat, nerd,” Roman says, smirking. Logan doesn’t respond, but he does hunch over his controller even more, eyes laser focused on the screen.

Logan climbs the ranks as they race toward the finish line, and he hits a speed boost that Roman missed. Suddenly, he’s feeling a lot less secure in his win. In the end, though, it doesn’t matter. He makes it barely a second before Logan does and nearly throws his controller down in his sheer excitement over winning.

“Fuck!” Logan exclaims. “You are a dirty cheater.” He is pouting, as much as he might say he’s above such juvenile expressions. Roman laughs outright at him.

“I am a squeaky clean winner, and-” He cuts off and hits Logan’s hand out of the air as it nears him. Logan flinches back, eyes wide and obviously stung. He pulls his hand to his chest, cradling it and Roman realizes that he hadn’t really softened his blow at all when Logan had most likely just been trying to be friendly.

“Shit,” Roman says, face flooding with heat while Logan stares at him, hurt. “I am so sorry, Logan. I didn’t even think, I’m-” He forces himself to stop talking. He’s not going to make any sense if he just keeps going without knowing what he’s trying to get across first.

“Maybe I should go,” Logan says stiffly, setting his control on the ground. It’s a ridiculous thing to say because Logan lives here, too, they’re roommates but it makes Roman’s heart stutter and stop for all the wrong reasons for just a second.

“No, no, please,” he says desperately. “That was on me, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just wasn’t expecting it. I was-I was surprised.” He holds Logan’s eyes, as uncomfortable and embarrassed as he feels because he knows it means a lot to Logan when someone will look him in the eyes.

“I do not believe that was the only problem,” Logan says slowly. He examines Roman intently. “If you wish to explain what the real problem is, I am more than willing to listen and talk. If not, I will be going on a walk. The choice is yours.” He waits for a moment.

“I…” Roman hesitates, flounders. He can feel the heat in his cheeks increasing. “My family was never...never the touchy-feely type,” he offers haltingly. “In fact, it was quite the opposite. And you’ve seen my brother. We were never very...nice to each other. I’m not quite used to...friendly contact.” Roman hopes that is sufficient enough for Logan to drop the topic, for Roman to change the subject before he gets so embarrassed that he melts into a puddle of unattractive goo or Logan makes some scathing remark as he is so wont to do and Roman has to deal with this moment of vulnerability being betrayed and crushed as has been the case so many times before.

Though he can’t help but feel that here and now it might be a deserved reaction.

“Oh,” Logan says, looking surprised then regretful. Roman doesn’t know how to explain why that reaction jolts him. “You act so much like my brothers that I just assumed-well. That is an oversight on my part. I apologize, Roman, for not considering that you may be comfortable with a different level of physical contact than I am. I will adjust my behavior to accommodate you, if you wish to touch less.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” Roman starts. He’s thoroughly surprised but that is not the priority and neither is the way his heart stutters with every word Logan says. It is not relevant to this conversation (but he can’t help but hope that it might be relevant to them eventually). “You shouldn’t have to-”

“Nonsense,” Logan says. He ignores Roman when he tries to speak again and says, “You are not bothering or inconveniencing me at all. I like to know how to make my friends comfortable, and for you, if that means you would like us to maintain a less tactile relationship, that is fine. You are under no obligation to me to be, as you put it, touchy-feely, for any reason. Or to anyone else, for that matter.” Logan smiles one of his rare, genuine smiles. Roman feels his breath catch in his throat at the look, but just as quickly as it’s there it’s gone. “Okay?” he asks quietly.

“Uh, yeah, Specs. I gotcha. Thanks.” Roman drops his hand back to the controller in his lap. He plucks nervously at the button for a moment before picking it up. “Again?” he asks softly.

“Of course,” Logan says. “But this time it will be you who eats my figurative dust.” Logan eases himself back into the bean bag chair and Roman gets so distracted by watching him relax so fully and replaying all the things he just said in his head that he misses the start of the race and is immediately off to a disadvantage. He laughs though, and Logan does too.

They banter for the rest of the night, and it does not matter to Roman that he does not win another race. Logan doesn’t mention that it is two a.m. and that they have classes the next day and Roman knows they will both probably sleep through their alarms.

“I will see you in the morning,” Logan says, nodding to Roman. He places the controllers carefully back where they go in the entertainment center and stretches, shirt lifting to reveal a thin strip of his stomach. Roman blushes and looks away hurriedly, but he clears his throat as Logan starts to walk away. They are only standing a couple feet apart, and Roman feels oddly present. Maybe it’s the exhaustion talking or maybe it is that Logan saw him and did not look away, but there is something Roman has to say that he can’t stop from coming out.

“Hey, Lo?” he says.

“Yes, Roman?”

“I think I’d like to be able to touch you,” he says. He can’t quite meet his eyes this time, so he focuses on Logan’s lips instead. “I like you and-and I really think I’d like to kiss you.”

“I like you, too,” Logan says, and those lips twist into a tiny, almost invisible smile. “And I’d like to kiss you, if it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. You do not have to push yourself for me.”

“Oh,” Roman says faintly, but still he takes one step closer so that he is in Logan’s space. Logan is barely taller, but it’s just enough that Roman has to tilt his head a little to look into his eyes, this close. “I’m not, I promise. Just once…?”

Logan slowly closes the small distance between them, giving Roman every opportunity he could ever want to say no, to back out, to realize that he was not ready for a kiss yet. But it’s something he has wanted for so long, wanted and not quite believed he could get, and he does not pull away. He lifts to his toes and meets Logan’s lips with a chaste kiss that cannot last the eternity that it feels like. Roman smiles at him when they pull away.

“Maybe,” he says quietly, “we can do that again, eventually.”

“I would really like that,” Logan says. He pauses and Roman can see the gears turning in his head, the nerd. “Perhaps, if you wish, I could assist you in becoming more comfortable with touching. Only if you want.”

“I think I’d really like that.” Roman says the words, but he’s not expecting Logan to hook his pinkie around Roman’s in the sweetest expression of emotion he’s ever experienced. It sends a jolt of fireworks up his arm, and it’s scary but sort of pleasant. He definitely does like it.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Logan says. He moves slowly and rests his forehead against Roman’s for just a second. “Good night, Roman. I hope your dreams are deserving of you.”

“Night, Lo,” Roman echoes and they go to their separate rooms. Roman is sure that in the morning they will talk more and possibly even hold hands if he wants to, but for now he is still riding the high of being touched so tenderly, of being so seen, of getting so much from someone he has always wanted. It is with a smile that Roman falls asleep that night, and with a smile that he greets the next day, and with a smile that he and Logan brush hands through breakfast and talk about them instead of going to class. It is with a smile that Roman will eventually hold hands and kiss and hug Logan, and eventually, it will not be such a feat. But for the next day, Roman smiles and knows that eventually can wait.

[thegayagenda-forkids]

Dumbass Trio Ditch Day

AO3 Link

Jonah just knew he was in trouble when he opened the door this morning to a smiling Marty and T.J. He should have shut the door and run away, but they grabbed him. And dragged him into T.J.’s Jeep. “Guys, don’t we have to go to school?!” He protested from the backseat.

“School?” Marty looked back from shotgun. “Never heard of her.”

“Marty!”

“No, but in all seriousness,” T.J. said, looking at Jonah through the rear view mirror. “It’s senior ditch day. We’re ditching.”

“So there’s classes for everyone but seniors?”

“Oh no, technically there’s classes for seniors,” T.J. said. “But we don’t have to go. It’s our school sanctioned day of teenage rebellion before we’re no longer teenagers.”

“And I had to be kidnapped for this?”

“More fun that way,” Marty smiled. He could give The Joker a run for his money with that smile.

“Why am I friends with you two?” Jonah groaned, throwing his head back. “Where are we even going?”

“The beach.”

“You mean the beach that’s three and a half hours away while I’m sitting here in my pajamas?” Jonah crossed his arms. “I’m not skinny dipping and we’re not going to a nude beach.”

“Come on, give us some credit,” Marty said. “We stopped by target and bought you board shorts, a T-shirt, and flip flops.” He pointed to the bag and Jonah looked through it.

“FEDERAL BIKINI INSPECTOR?! If anyone sees me wearing this I’ll never hear the end of this.” They stopped at a red light and both boys in the front seat unzipped their hoodies and showed off their shirts. They had the same shirts but they had defaced it with a sharpie, Marty crossing out the word “Federal” and adding the word “Former,” and T.J. crossed out “Bikini” for “Board Shorts.”

“Matching shirts, altered for our sexualities,” T.J. smiled.

“And I get the gross sexist one?”

“You’re the only cishet male here, so yes,” Marty said. “Unless you want the sharpie to replace “Federal” with “Feminist?”’

“You think I can survive another encounter with Andi and Buffy, and even to a lesser degree, Cyrus, unless I do that?”

“Fair enough,” Marty tossed the sharpie back and Jonah got to work. “And we’re actually gonna drive for three and a half hours?”

“Actually, we’re gonna try and get there in two and fourth five…” T.J. smiled and gripped the steering wheel.

“Oh fuck that! Do that and I’ll call Cyrus!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me!”

“No, I’m saying you wouldn’t because I’ve got dirt on you too Beck,” T.J. said.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that it’s your fault we’re banned from Wal*Mart?” T.J. said.

“Or why we can’t go into the botanical section at Home Depot?” Marty continued.

“You two were very willing participants in our Lost Target Employee prank and our Plant Band.”

“That may be, but you were still the mastermind,” T.J. said. “And I bet Cyrus would love to know why the assistant manager chased the two of you out of the Wal*Mart when he wanted to buy some art supplies for Andi’s birthday.”

“We went to Michaels instead. Much better quality anyways,” he mumbled but sat back, knowing he had nowhere to go and no way to protest as T.J. started weaving wildly between cars. “But if we get pulled over, I’m telling the cops you kidnapped me.”

“Fine by me,” T.J. said. “We won’t get pulled over.”

____________

“Explain again why we had to fill our car with every sour cream and onion potato chip bag we could find?” Jonah said, looking at the multitude of bags in the backseat with him. They stopped at a pit stop on the highway and all he did was leave them alone for two minutes while he went to the bathroom.

“Because they’re the superior potato chip,” T.J. said, eating from a bag Marty was holding out for him. Marty meanwhile was fishing chips out of a Pringles can.

“But all of them?”

“Because we wanted to, and it’s a great snack for the time driving to the beach and the time driving back.”

Jonah sighed and gave in, opening a bag and eating from it. “You know, the three of us may be the Dumbass Trio, but you two are the Chaos Twins.”

“Thanks Jonah, we take that in stride,” Marty said proudly.

———-

“You know what I still don’t get?” Jonah asked both of them while playing Words with Friends with Marty. “Why aren’t you two with your significant others?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you do Ditch Day with Cyrus and Buffy?”

“Because then you’d be alone since Andi’s SAVA schedule works completely differently,” T.J. said. “And you haven’t exactly dated anyone in the past three years. The closest you’ve gotten to is the ASL lessons Libby still gives you so that you can communicate with her.”

“Libby and I are just friends,” Jonah said. “Nowhere near girlfriend level. We just don’t work. I just don’t work with girls.”

“Well, we know you’re not gay,” T.J. said said. “Or we would have sniffed that out by now.”

Jonah laughed. “Nah, I’m not gay. I like girls, it’s the keeping up with a relationship I suck at.”

“Which is a shame for all parties,” he joked. “Buffy is the only person attracted to men at our school who never had a crush on you.”

“Wait...T.J., you had a crush on me?”

“Yeah, in our younger baseball days,” he said. “Though, since I was a kid and I didn’t know I was gay...wow...I was really an asshole before Cyrus, huh?”

“Major dick,” Jonah agreed.

“If I got paid a penny for every time Buffy complained about you to me, I’d be a millionaire in the eighth grade.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” T.J. said. “At least we’re friends now.”

“You’re an epic friend dude, nothing to worry about.”

_______________

“Okay...that was so cringe-y!” Marty was laughing. They finally arrived at the beach and they rented out body boards from a little stand.

“Yeah, and I was trying to save you,” Jonah laughed. T.J. was trying to hide his face. The girl at the shack, while doing the mandatory demonstration of how to use the equipment, kept feeling up T.J. and pressing her chest against him as she flirted, and Jonah tried flirting with her to get her attention off of his friend. It didn’t work.

“I’m going to get a tattoo of a rainbow flag all over my body,” he groaned. “And then I’m gonna tattoo the words “I’m gay!” on my forehead.”

“Yeah, then you could spare every girl at school the heartbreak of them flirting with you, hoping to nab you since you don’t have a girlfriend, and then crush their spirits when they see you kiss Cyrus,” Marty laughed.

“Yeah, all these girls always tell me that I’m “too hot to be gay.” Like, what does that even mean? Only ugly people should be gay?”

“They just want you for themselves,” Marty said. “Come on, I’ll buy you a snowcone you can drown your sorrows in.”

“Do I have to be sad to get a snowcone?” Jonah asked.

“No, you can be happy...and happily buy it for yourself.”

_________________________

“Okay, didn’t the pervy shack girl tell us explicitly not to do this?” T.J. asked raising an eyebrow.

“You sound like your boyfriend,” Marty said. “It’s cute, but come on!” He and Jonah were carefully balancing and trying to stand up. “We just wanna surf.”

“Then we can get surfboards.”

“Surfboards are more expensive,” Jonah said. “Besides, what could happen?”

“You two want me to go full Goodman? Because I know that there are at least ten things that can go horribly, horribly wrong.”

“Come on Kippen!” Marty groaned. “Come surf with us!”

“I’ll body surf,” T.J. said. “Besides, you don’t start off on the oncoming wave on your feet!” T.J. said. “You’re supposed to face away from the wave, paddle away from it for a bit, and only then do you stand up.”

“Why can’t you start on your feet?” Jonah asked, the a small wave came and toppled the two boys into the water while T.J. stayed hugging his board.

“And that’s why.”

“Shut up T.J.!” Marty said, spitting water as he and Jonah went back to hugging his board with his whole body.

“You guys are idiots.”

��We’re all proud idiots!” Marty said.

“Can’t argue with that,” Jonah said, coughing while he got back on a lying down position on the board. “Buffy told me that we’re not allowed to be bored.”

“Why?” Marty asked, immediately getting back on his feet until T.J. shook the board to get him to fall off again.

“That’s why. She said when we’re bored, the stupidest shit happens.”

“Cyrus started keeping a list named“why we call them the dumbass trio,”” T.J. said. “I’ve seen the list...the shopping cart races were one of the first things. Us attempting to carry the biggest stuffed animal Build a Bear had, which was ridiculously big, was another.”

“Buffy uses the bear as a chair,” Marty said with a proud smile. “She does her homework on it.”

“And the mountain of chocolates she gave you?”

His face fell. “I tried to make a giant candy bar.”

“What happened?” Jonah asked.

“I burned the chocolate...and had to buy three more pans for the kitchen.”

T.J. looked at Jonah. “And this is why he’s Head Dumbass.”

_____________

They moved on to play beach volleyball, which was Marty vs T.J. with Jonah officiating and then playing winner.

“Hey!” They turned around and saw a group of what looked like frat guys. “You’re on our court!”

They looked around and saw several nets set up on empty courts and they only had 8 people, enough for one team. “Um...we were here first so…” T.J. said.

“Yeah, but it’s ours.”

“It’s a public beach dude,” Jonah said. “Why not just go to one of the other courts?”

“Because everyone knows this belongs to Psy Kappa Alphas!” They all whooped after the name and the trio rolled their eyes.

“Dude, we’re mid-game here,” T.J. said. “Why not just-oh!” T.J. doubled over when he got a volleyball straight to the crotch. Marty looked down. For the first time, he was grateful that he was born with the wrong parts.

“Come on bro,” Marty came under the net and walked towards them. “It’s just a court and we wanted to play.” One of them then grabbed him by the shirt of his wetsuit and brought him up close to his face.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he said. “Wait...are you wearing a bra under this?” His eyes widened. “You’re a fucking tranny?!”

Marty swiftly kneed him in the balls and grabbed his emotional support morons and the three started running with eight frat boys chasing them. They sprinted while they gathered their stuff, not bothering to put on their shirts or anything as they haphazardly carrried all their things and T.J. unlocked the car, all of them piling in with Jonah in shotgun this time and Marty in the backseat with all of their stuff as T.J. started peeling away. A few frat guys chased them for another two or three blocks before they turned back to the beach and the three boys looked at each other and started howling with laughter.

“Well...I guess that’s a sign that we should start heading home,” Jonah said as Marty kneeled on the seat and started putting the things from the backseat into the trunk. T.J. nodded and set the gps to start going home.

_______________

“Okay, say what you will,” T.J. said, putting his shirt back on after they parked in Jonah’s driveway. “But that was a lot of fun.”

“I will not disagree,” Jonah said. “But I still would have liked, you know, not being kidnapped?”

“Hey! There you guys are!” They heard Buffy behind them and turned around smiling to see Buffy and Cyrus. “Where were you guys all day?”

“We were at the beach,” Marty said, his T-shirt over his wetsuit and Buffy raised an eyebrow as she read it, and Cyrus looked at T.J.’s.

“Federal Board Shorts Inspector?”

“We wanted funny matching shirts,” he said, kissing Cyrus’s cheek and frowned. “Why are you wearing a backpack?

“Because it carries my books nicely?” Cyrus frowned.

“No, I mean...why are you wearing it today? It’s senior ditch day.”

“Um…” he and Buffy exchanged a glance. “No it isn’t.”

Jonah and Marty froze. “What?”

“It’s not senior ditch day today,” Buffy said. “It’s next week.”

Jonah fixed his eyes on T.J. and Marty. “Next week?!” T.J. and Marty dropped their beach bags and started running and Jonah chased after them. “IT WAS NEXT WEEK YOU IDIOTS!”

Buffy and Cyrus started laughing and then looked into the Jeep. “Why are there twenty bags of sour cream and onion potato chips?”

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Dance”

Hope you guys enjoy, sorry for not getting something out in the last few days :)

They needed to get out of the house, as it seemed, though Sunny would be allowed to stay for the wedding, Martha Vir the captain’s mother was having trouble being in the same room as Sunny. That was ok she supposed, parents were supposed to be protective of their offspring, and if Sunny wasn’t something to be feared, than she didn’t know what was.

So Sunny had grabbed her headphones, Vir had gone rooting around in the garage coming back with a thin board with wheels strapped to the bottom, and they had set off in the early morning sunlight. Vir seemed intent on trying to balance on the rolling board as it moved down the sidewalk.

Sunny didn’t think he was very good, but what did she know about humans and their odd games.

Krill floated behind her soaking up earth’s nice, warm sun. As a creature that didn’t eat, sunlight was important for Krill. She still found it kind of weird. Despite Krill’s need to be afraid of everything, he even admitted that early summer on earth was very pleasant. And he wasn’t wrong their planet was beautiful, it didn’t have the eclectic color selection of her planet, with its rainbow mosses and purple trees, but there was something charming about the green scenery spread across a high blue sky dotted here and there with vibrant colors. She closed her eyes and let the sun warm her skin.

Off to the side a sharp note echoed down the street, and she looked up just in time to see a group of the human kits riding past on their weird metal contraptions with wheels.

All of them stared, mouths wide open.

That is, until one of them plowed right into a parked car with a loud thud, and the squealing of a car alarm.

Sunny winced. Vir grimaced. Krill covered his eyes. “That wasn’t us, was it?” The captain wondered sheepishly.

“I think it might have been, Captain.” Krill muttered as they hurried on by. Behind them the kit had started to wale, and its friends were trying to help it back to its feet, “Should we stay to help.” Krill wondered.

Vir shook his head, “Best not, other humans don’t like it when you mess with their kids. Depending on what type of people they are, we might be blamed for hurting him. They sped up the pace and kept going causing more and more staring as they made it into the center of town.

“Where are we going anyway?” Sunny wondered

“My sister has Kimber at the rec-center for her Dance and then her Karate class later on, but forgot her phone. We’re bringing it to her.” They cut off the road and into another parking lot, slipping past groups of people frozen in their tracks, and into the back doorway of the building. Ahead of them was a long hallway lined in tile. Through a pair of windows lining the side, Sunny could see large, manmade bodies of water, where the humans were….. Swimming? She didn’t know humans could do that. They made their way up the hallway, and Sunny peered into the rooms looking at odd climbing structures, and wide open areas covered in odd lines, where humans were busy playing games.

They paused at the junction of a couple hallways, “My sister says she’s in the lounge area, there are a lot of people there, do you mind waiting here, Sunny?” Vir wondered

Sunny shook her head as the other two floated off. She had a knack for attracting attention, and trouble, and though the captain was known for similar problems, there were some humans who were still harboring anger about the war.

She waited in the hall, and waited, and waited. Where were they?

Just then, the distant sound of music reached her ears. It was coming from the hallway to her left….. She was sure they wouldn’t mind if she just took a peek. Quietly she turned off her music and tip toed up the hallway, not like it would matter for all seven and a half feet of her.

With one eye Sunny peered through one of the doors little windows.

And was immediately stunned. The lights in the room were low, and the humans were standing in two double lines quite still. The soft thudding of a musical track began just behind them, and then they began to….. Began to what? How could Sunny even describe the things the humans were doing at that moment.

It was like watching a gust of wind through grass. All at once, and without a cue, the humans rocked to the side hands flung into the air and then paused frozen in place, after another moment, they rocked again to the other side freezing in place. Perfect canonization like they had been programed to do it. Sunny was frozen as she watched. The music began to speed up.

The humans in the front row stood in place though their arms moved with a surprising speed and accuracy out then in than up, than in some odd configuration back to an attention position. Behind them, the other humans were following a different pattern using their feet stepping to the side and then spinning around. Not one of them was out of step.

As they sped up, they rolled through each other cutting in patterns that shouldn’t have been possible without running into each other. With the music, and the rhythmic patterns of their movements they created a kaleidoscope of human movement rolling one after the other in mesmerizing patterns. When they stopped, Sunny was almost disappointed, hoping that they would start again, when they didn’t she ran over to another door, just in time for something else.

Again, the humans here stood in two long, straight lines. Their hands were behind their backs. All at once, they began to stomp a single foot against the floor creating a simple rhythm with their feet. Clack, clack, clack. Hands still behind their backs, they began to move their other foot. Tapping with the front and the sides of their feet against the floor with a rattling beat. The beat stayed the same, but the feet grew faster, and, as if they were making music with their bodies and their feet, they began to move their legs rattling and pounding against the floor in time with each other feet moving faster than Sunny would have thought possible.

The pounding rhythm grew up in her head mesmerizing her as she watched. The precision, and the synchronization was….. Beyond anything she had ever seen.

From there, she ran down the hallway peering into windows and watching the humans as they tapped into something…. Otherworldly.

A pair of two humans swung around each other like a pair of leaves blown in a high wind. They spun to the left, and followed by spinning back to the right. Without a single mistake or misstep they wove their feet through each other threatening every moment to trip each other, but instead rolling to the side in a massive arc using tiny steps to appear as if they were floating across the floor. They let go of each other immediately synchronizing their movements as they moved feet apart, and then they came back together like the snapping of two magnets right against each other.

Sunny ran to the next door in frantic excitement peering inside as a dozen women began to dance rolling across the floor with tiny steps, on the points of their feet. They held their arms out to the side as if they were gliding faces serene and smiling. All at once they threw their feet up in the air and began to spin, a set of whirling dervishes in gauzy white clothing. They stopped their spinning to leap to the side legs straight out in either directions toes pointed before coming down to begin spinning again. The way they danced made it appear as if they had no bones, simply pieces of ribbon being flung around the room.

The next door was opened, and Sunny peered inside. This time the humans she saw were all shapes and sizes. There were men and women and kits milling about in their places as a large man stood in front of them. Unlike Vir, and most of the other humans, he was hairless, with very dark skin, and a set of intricate inking up one of his arms.

“Now, remember, for this to work you have to be aggressive. That’s the point, I don’t want to hear any of this uhhh, remember, give me an AHHHHGG!”

At the very front of the line, Sunny saw Vir’s sister’s kit in her yellow T-shirt and green patterned pants. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. Her pigtails were messy and, one of them was close to coming out.

“Now remember to start low, hands out front like sumo wrestlers, take your positions and we will try this again….. ready?” The humans had run quickly into their lines low in a half squat position hands out in front of them. The tiny Kit’s face was split with a serious frown of concentration.

“And, on three, one, two, three.”

There it was again, Sunny was dragged in with the sudden excited violence as the humans stomped their feet into the ground shouting after every step. All together the sound of their feet and their voices amplified rising up to the sky ceiling above.

A few moments of this, and they slammed their hands against their knees in a clapping sound over and over with the stomping of their feet. The room started with a rattle, and as it went on the humans grew louder, their movements more violent the rattling turned into a pounding and then a thundering. Sunny’s eyes were wide with admiration and she took a step forward.

The humans broke suddenly as one of the kits screamed, the rest of the humans gasped. The large, dark human whirled to face her.

“SUNNY”

The room hung still in a single moment as Kimber raced over and hugged Sunny’s leg. The humans stared on in total and complete confusion. Sunny waved sheepishly at the humans who waved in shell-shock back. Kimber grabbed Sunny by the hand and walked her further into the room.

“Mr Teacher, look look this is my friend Sunny.”

The man just stood there staring, “Uh…. You’re friend.”

She nodded, “Yeah, my friend, can she stay PLEASE!”

The man rubbed the back of his head in awkward confusion, “I well, I…..don’t see why not…. I guess long as she follows the rules.”

“She will.” Kimber chirped.

She dragged Sunny to her spot showing Sunny what they were going to do, and sunny followed her instruction. They had a bit of trouble figuring out what to do with her second set of arms, and then they began. Sunny did her best, but it turned out to be more difficult than she might have thought. She kept losing her timing or getting confused. She didn’t notice when the captain and Krill showed up looking for her. She didn’t notice Vir’s expression of amusement or Krill’s expression of terror.

***

Sunny saw something that Krill would never see about human. The way they moved in synchronization with each other as if they held some sort of unknown hive mind. It was the sort of synchronization and power that soldiers strived for in war, but could never quite grasp, but here were the humans teaching their young to work in time with each other, every step the same, every movement attached to the movement of another.

Sunny didn’t know how they did it, because when they did it was like they tapped into something else, something that only humans could understand. Even their bodies behaved differently than they should, like bones turned to rubber and muscles pulled tight. They could fly through the air and glide like spirits, they could slither across the ground taking on the form and shape of different beasts as they “Danced” With each other

Krill theorized some sort of unknown human hive mind that even the humans rejected, but Sunny had a different idea. Krill would never understand as his species was less social, but she knew, while it was something more than simple observation, it was something other than a hive mind, something special about humans.

Humans can tap into something otherworldly, and they won’t even admit it.

[kiruuuuu]

Smoke/Mute oneshot in which Mute meets someone close to Smoke - or: Witness Two Boners Die In Slow Motion. (Rating M/E, sexual content + humour, fluff, ~5k words)

.

“You’re what he came for.”

Mute’s eyes slide over in suspicion and despite the unexpected statement, he leans back to maintain an aura of nonchalance. His interest is piqued, however, directed at the handsome features made more attractive by a genuine smile. Even more by the fact that his curious stare is reciprocated with quick glances now and then, like someone wanting to dance but too shy, like seeking reassurance. Like checking availability. Mute knows better than to display a large neon sign saying VACANT and yet he refuses to do the opposite. “That so?”

“Aye.” Sledge takes a sip, not letting the object of Mute’s attention out of his eyes either. “Dressed up for ya, he did.”

It’s one of Rainbow’s first outings and meant to strengthen the so far loose bonds between the international operators – as of now, country ties bind them together more closely than interests and Six astutely remarked on having to change this if they’re meant to form a coherent unit. Therefore, they spent the day suffering team-building exercises and are now out drinking together. Invitations were polite but firm and so most of them came, some earlier, some later, some left already. Mute was punctual and delighted to see Sledge, a Scotsman with whom he’s worked together in the past, if briefly. They maintain a professional friendship which runs deep enough for Mute to consider meeting up with him off duty.

Smoke was late. Possibly on purpose, seeing as the first two whisky and coke noticeably impeded Mute’s judgement; inhibitions and standards have lowered. Nonetheless, he’s noticed the man’s cat-like movements favourably before and would be lying if he claimed his gaze didn’t linger where it should’ve brushed over. Now especially, watching the tight t-shirt cling to Smoke for dear life, the loose boots and well-fitting jeans flattering his legs, hair messily combed back like he already rolled in the hay before coming here and honestly, that wouldn’t make it any less hot. The opposite, if anything. A sated Smoke still hungering for him, not able to help himself? Hell yes.

Mute is occupying a booth, long legs stretched out into empty space and not yet ready to embark on his third journey of peaty pop, so he merely wipes the condensation off his glass and wonders whether he should try to approach this the classy way, and if so, what that would look like. Or whether it really matters in the grand scheme of things – if either of them remembers this night in a few years, they definitely won’t focus on their first interaction that day. Time moves at a sluggish pace yet Mute is filled with an increasing impatience. He knows he’s not meant to be right here, right now, not when there’s a perfectly good bed both in his and in Smoke’s room.

“Why for me?”, he asks and it’s vanity speaking. He’s not wondering whether he’s Smoke’s target, not when it’s made abundantly clear by absent-minded lip biting and fiddling with hair and almost dropping the phone and maybe he’s making Smoke nervous by staring at him. He enjoys the thought. Smoke is older and with a much bigger gob, plus he’s a vain bastard with too much confidence. Mute doesn’t know how he caught his eye, but he wants to hear why Sledge thinks he did.

“‘S just his modus operandi. He thinks breaking in the newbies in the SAS is gonna earn him a merit badge in the long run.”

Smoke looks over and offers a smile, a small, tentative thing, and Mute is too slow – his heartbeat reacts faster than he does, spikes in anticipation, but his facial muscles need a moment. He allows his enjoyment to bleed into his expression once he’s overcome the shock of just how fucking good Smoke looks and when their gazes meet once more, they’re both smiling. Just then, the group around the other man breaks out into laughter and Smoke joins, too late, obviously missed the punchline and fuck. That’s – Mute takes a big gulp to cool down a little.

“That’s what he does? Go after the young ones?” Not a deal breaker, but leaving behind an unpleasant taste on his tongue. Imagining them old and still gunning for a few decades below their own age isn’t part of Mute’s definition of sexy.

“No. The new ones. Nothing to do with age.” Tearing his eyes off the topic of their conversation is harder than he thought. Sledge doesn’t seem to be sugar coating, not with how earnest he looks. “If they’ve been with us for less than two, three years, he’ll pursue. No clue why. Blackmail material, maybe, or some warped sense of accomplishment. You won’t find a single troop where nobody has let him have a go.”

Interesting. Sledge’s tone of voice conveys exactly what he thinks of this achievement but to Mute, it makes Smoke all the more alluring. “Is he any good?”

The scandalised reply almost makes him laugh: “You’re not gonna fuck him, lad. You barely know him.”

While correct, it’s hardly a reason not to fuck Smoke. “That’s the point”, Mute explains despite the outrage in Sledge’s face, “less likely to get attached, the both of us. Early on is the best time to fuck anyone – later on it’s all ‘don’t sleep with his ex’, ‘don’t sleep with my best friend’, and maybe I wouldn’t ever wanna fuck anyone if I knew them enough. No chance of knowing it better when I’m lacking all the details.”

“That’s a horrendous point of view”, Sledge states, not even causing Mute’s grin to waver. “And what if he turns out to be a tosser?”

“I don’t plan on making a habit out of this anyway. He wants a quick shag, I want a quick shag. Besides, I do hope he’s a tosser, then I won’t have to worry about getting him off.”

Giving up, fortunately, seems to be the only course of action Sledge still sees. “Alright. Go on then, lad. Hope you’ll have no regrets.” He leaves behind an empty bench perfect for a tight little arse to squeeze in instead.

And Mute doesn’t have to wait long.

You’re what he came for, echo the words through his mind, prompting a giddy recklessness flaring up once he’s joined in the booth. The sizzling is audible and his drink forgotten in favour of attentive eyes drilling into his skull. I’m not calling back after tonight, Mute decides and remains unsure whether it’s out of self-preservation or vindictiveness. He’s too pretty, fingers curling around a glass, black strands falling into his forehead, body language open and inviting and provocative.

“I heard you’re the prodigy around here”, Smoke addresses him, still fully in control over his tongue. He can’t have had much yet.

“I heard you’re fucking your way through the Blades”, Mute responds politely, and the smile grows.

“Only the good ones.”

Cheeky. The hand on his knee goes uncommented and his silence is taken as the very encouragement it was intended. “How do you tell them apart?”

“What colour shirt did I wear yesterday?”

His palm burns and Mute wishes he could show Sledge how he feels in this moment, alight under a smouldering, watchful gaze, the idea of doing the deed almost more enticing than the actual thing. He figures the Scotsman would still judge him, albeit less harshly. Mute begins wondering what would need to happen for him to consider calling Smoke back. “You wore a black hoodie”, he drawls and parts his lips at the sudden squeeze of his thigh. Smoke looks delighted.

“The bad ones don’t pay attention to detail”, he explains and the next thing Mute knows is the taste of stale cigarettes and beer on his tongue.

.

~*~

.

“Babe, come on. Please, babe.” The whispered plea sends a crackling shudder down his spine, translating into a twitch of his fingers, grip on solid hipbones wavering, and the following breath right into his ear makes him consider spilling all of the imagery contained in his mind.

Mute lost count a while ago. They’re in the double digits for sure, both of them pretending they really want to try out this new game, really want to visit this restaurant again, really just want to hang out; and amidst good-natured laughs and sharp quips, their fingers brush during an exchange of bottles, one of them sits a little too close, and a compliment during banter comes out too genuine. They’re terrified, but fortunately they get off on danger. They’ve become addicted: outlets, catalysts. Wildfires.

Nothing ties them together and by all logic, they should’ve left it at that one night – and the next morning, really, and Smoke delayed leaving without overstaying his welcome. The times after that were so coincidental, telling themselves it wasn’t deliberate was deceptively easy, and these days Mute comes over with Smoke’s favourite takeout, bursting with trivia, tidbits and gossip to share and knowing there’ll be a second toothbrush. When he first saw it, he nearly faltered. It was lying there so innocuously as if it really was just a toothbrush, and after a moment Mute convinced himself that’s all it was. A mere toothbrush. Nothing more.

And now Smoke is riding his cock like his life depended on it, and maybe it does; the way he holds on to Mute reminds him of a drowning man but the ecstatic grin disrupts the image. He’s glowing from the inside, or maybe it’s the dying light of the sun painting him golden, or maybe it’s Mute’s mind which casually notes that they end their evenings earlier each time, give in faster, allow the tug around their midsections to make them collide.

“Just a bit”, Smoke continues and he’s so fucking overwhelming Mute wishes he could come in him ten times just to watch his reaction. Or make him come ten times just to watch him. Either is good. “It’d be so fucking hot, babe, please, I’ll do you any favour, you know I’m good for it.”

Is he ever. Mute vividly remembers the last time he was given a blank cheque like this. “I don’t know what to say”, he shoots back a big fat lie, mostly because he enjoys being difficult and a frustrated Smoke makes for fantastic memories. They’ve slowed down and every grind seems to go marrow deep, making it impossible not to grin. Mute fucking loves this, loves doing this and especially with Smoke, loves that they always end up here, inside each other in some way, loves the mutual respect and attraction and the fact that both of them play along. No egos getting stroked, only their dicks.

“You ever listen to me run my mouth?”

Often, and gladly. Mute’s grin widens. “I might need another demonstration.”

“No dice, babe. Just imitate all the porn you’ve undoubtedly watched while thinking of me.”

“Thinking of you is usually enough.”

He really went there. A heated gaze darkens and there’s no doubt Smoke is picturing it, judging by the slightly absent expression Mute switches to an appreciative one with a hard thrust. “That’s a good start.”

“Sorry, that was all the material I had.” In his mind, he’s mapping out his game plan: proper filth at the end, all the graphic details need to be staggered or else he risks a verbal premature ejaculation leaving them both dissatisfied. Compliments here and there – his stupid fucking luscious hair still growing like from a shampoo commercial despite having been burnt off several times; he’s proud of it so Mute will have to include it. Then his fingers, God, his fingers, producing the worst chicken scratch Mute has ever encountered and yet able to stroke him into another dimension nonetheless, not only over his dick or prostate but also his scalp. He’s not telling him he’s never felt so comfortable and refreshed like the time Smoke petted him to sleep. He is, however, telling him about the day he spent half hard over Smoke winning against the entirety of the GIGN in hand to hand, the boxer in him clearly visible in his fearless stance and the way he either fully dodges or simply absorbs the hit.

Mute is perceptive and thorough. Once he’s done talking, Smoke will be on his second orgasm and begging for more personalised compliments and spot-on dirty talk.

“Honestly, just throw out a few ‘fuck’s and describe what you’re doing and I’m happy.”

The urges to laugh and to interrupt their lovemaking for a reproachful, deadpan stare compete viciously. Smoke is taking him seriously, genuinely believes him to be inept and it shows in his lack of exasperation – if he knew Mute was deliberately being a little shite, he’d roll his eyes or sigh or try to make him cream himself by twisting his nipples, but instead he’s being gently supportive.

He knows enough about Mute’s history, so it’s more of an intentional insult than a faux pas.

Neither of them are faltering through the entire exchange, which is impressive in its own right. Mute still possesses the presence of mind to nail Smoke’s sweet spot often enough to keep the dopey look in his expression, and yet he’s got the brain capacity left to vow revenge.

Repeat after porn, he said? “Oh fuck, you’re so big”, he moans, earning an odd look almost shattering his composure already. None of his body parts are purposefully touching Smoke’s cock and still he takes the comment in stride.

And then he goes in for the kill: “Fuck yes daddy. Oh, fuck me daddy.”

The effect is as instant as it is hilarious and Mute has his iron composure to thank that he doesn’t break out into hysterical laughter immediately. Slowly, like a tree falling over, desire turns into disbelief turns into shock turns into thinly-veiled disgust – and Mute already outlines more horrific statements like his previous to frustrate Smoke. A displeased Smoke is a dominant Smoke and it’s oh so enjoyable to hold him down.

Instead of completing the full circuit and circling back to helpless amusement, Smoke simply stares him down, unmoving, unresponsive to the slight nudges from Mute’s hips, and says: “Dude.”

He sounds serious.

“Too far?”, Mute asks. It might be a prank – he hopes it is, hopes Smoke’s suddenly sober attitude is based in well-hidden mirth instead of genuine dismay, because the consequences would be far too dire. Maybe something happened to a friend of his, a sister, a cousin, maybe even to him, leading to a knee-jerk aversion of this particular kink and dear Lord, he’s flagging now, and so is Mute due to the uncomfortable twist in his guts. The concern that he overstepped an invisible line by straying from well-lit paths without asking permission. The fear that he might not be invited back.

“It’s just -”

Avoiding eye contact. Fuck. Mute’s in the shite now. Last time Smoke looked this uncomfortable was when he turned down an old flame, out of earshot and yet in full sight of Mute who sipped his beer and tried not to show his inordinate pleasure. Though he did lean closer once Smoke returned, looking away when Sledge’s gaze met his.

He doesn’t want this to be over.

An apology forces his lips apart, pride and ego violently shoved aside by an odd sense of self preservation, as if Smoke was food or sleep instead of an irritating fucker with an atrocious gag reflex who’s infuriatingly beaten Mute in every single one of his favourite video games and then stole the blanket all night afterwards, and he can’t fucking lose this. He went too far, he made a dumb joke which might’ve hit too close to home and he’ll be damned if -

“I have a daughter.”

Mute’s brain freezes.

“And, well, she called me that, so it’s a bit – you know.”

“You’re fucking kidding me”, Mute breathes softly.

“She’s almost done with school now, but just don’t go there, alright?”

She’s fucking what.

The following is the most awkward of silences, considering Mute is still halfway inside Smoke yet neither of them display any motivation to keep going, and when they eventually separate, Smoke sitting next to him with an uncertain aura of anticipation, Mute’s mind still hasn’t caught up. “Is this – I mean -”

Is this a deal breaker, he isn’t saying, much to Mute’s benefit as he wouldn’t have an answer. What kind of deal do they even have?

“Do you like kids?”

And it’s not about that, fucking hell, it’s about the omission thing. Lack of trust. “I don’t know. I kinda still am one”, he replies and is fairly certain it’s not the response Smoke wanted as he pulls a face and mutters something like well we’re done here and Mute doesn’t dare ask what exactly he means.

.

~*~

.

Society generally expects an answer where a question was posed, that much Mute knows, but attempting to take in all these shocking turns of events simultaneously occupies his entire mental capacity and thus he leaves the vaguely annoyed can I help you echo uselessly between them as he stares at the personified nightmare right before him.

He’s terrifyingly bad with children and worse with teenagers, swinging between trying so desperately to be the ‘cool uncle’ by teaching them easy explosions achievable with common household items and treating them like adults, meaning he ignores them for the large part unless they have anything genuinely interesting to say. Which happens rarely enough, in his experience.

It’s worse when the child belongs to someone close to him. Being stuck at a friend’s birthday party where the predominant topics were family friendly vacation places and shortcomings in the kindergarten system has happened to him more than once. He’s slept with a guy a few times who was adamant on having a family later in life and watched him try to convince his best friend to be his surrogate mother, and it took no longer than another week for Mute to break off all contact.

Now he’s faced not only with a kid with an attitude, no, she’s also Smoke’s daughter. And as if this wasn’t alarming enough already, her hair is blue.

“I, uh”, he introduces himself elaborately.

A brown eyebrow lifts. This seems to be her natural hair colour, though her mane is dyed a vibrant aqua and looks like she hasn’t brushed it today.

He realises belatedly that a strange man appearing on her doorstep and proceeding to gape at her idiotically isn’t the best way to gain her trust. “James sent me, I’m Mark. You’re – you’re Charlie?”

She nods curtly and makes no move to let him in. Just a typical girl, Smoke had said with a smile and a shrug, smart, but otherwise normal. Charlie looks like she attended a three-day punk festival and hadn’t gotten a chance to shower yet. At least Mute can’t detect any smell of cigarettes – or worse. He begins wondering how Smoke describes him to anyone if he considers his daughter to be wholly generic. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not here to babysit. He said you’re running low on a few things and to help clean a bit.”

“Ah. Bitchwork.”

“That’s what I usually say to your dad.”

One of the many reasons Mute prefers not being alone with anyone ten years younger than him: having been surrounded by older people instead of peers for most of his life gave him a skewed view of what’s appropriate and, uh, what’s most definitely not.

Fortunately for him, disgust and disbelief aren’t the only emotions fighting on Charlotte Porter’s face – delight and amusement are among them. “Wow. Well. Come in then.”

If he’d known that one fateful night in the early days of Rainbow was such a slippery slope leading to him being Smoke’s confidante to check on the most important person in his life while he sits on his arse all day in Colombia waiting for something to happen, Mute might’ve made a wide berth around him. If he’d known that sticking with him and waiting for a half-arsed apology about the omission of offspring eventually delivered between very wet and malty kisses would result in him having to spend half a day with this punk of a teenager, he might’ve ended it after learning of Charlie’s existence.

He tells himself this, exasperated, and ignores his own voice calling him hypocritical. There’s a star next to Smoke’s name in his phone, in every app that allows it, and it facilitated checking the address ten times. It’s not the fucking tuna or a sudden weather change why he’s nauseous. It’s because he doesn’t want to fuck this up.

The house is more spacious than he’d thought but the area also more rural. Posters line the walls, a lot of the floor is naked and there’s a casual air of neglect Mute immediately finds charming: paperwork crammed into shelves, a few dust bunnies peeking out of cracks, more jackets than one person could ever need draped over various pieces of furniture. It’s neither cramped nor ultimately untidy or dirty, but it has a rugged lived-in look he can’t imagine to be popular with most girls of that age. Fifteen, he remembers Smoke saying. Finishing school next year.

“You’re not allowed in my room”, Charlie tells him and closes a door right before he gets to it. He catches a glimpse of a bright pink wall, fairy lights and what looks like a janbiya, an Arabic dagger. Maybe Smoke brought it home as a souvenir.

Endless questions are on his mind: how is he as a dad? What’s the stupidest thing you heard him do or say? What was he like five years ago?

And then, inevitably: does he bring other guys here often?

“Are you alone a lot?”

Only teenagers have perfected this utterly indifferent shrug when asked a personal question, Mute has never witnessed anyone over twenty perform it this flawlessly. “I’m usually out, you’re lucky you caught me.”

She’s on break – hence the hair, he figures – and Smoke mentioned some difficulties in her friends group. Charlie doesn’t strike him as someone who’s left the house for a few days and the state of most horizontal surfaces supports his suspicion. “No parties happening here? Even when dad’s away?”

“We don’t just invite people over. This is our place.” She’s scrutinising him again. Smart, Smoke called her and Mute is inclined to agree, her eyes certainly are attentive and flit about like they’re trying to catch him doing something unsavoury, thus warranting a ban for life.

.

“What do you do?”, Charlie asks in between tossing some pasta and rice into the cart. She cooks, surprisingly, and Mute can’t help the image of a small ten-year-old Charlotte with brown pigtails fixing dinner for them both and chastising Smoke for his unhealthy eating habits. Over time, she’s thawed – as has he. Putting her seatbelt on is second nature, she asks first before changing CDs and doesn’t put her dirtied boots on the dashboard. Smoke could learn a lot from her. It seems she chose this hair colour out of personal preference and not as an act of inconsequential rebellion and who is Mute to judge anyone’s taste in fashion.

“Same thing as your dad.” He snatches some off-brand cereal off the shelf as Charlie mentioned wanting some and watches in amusement as she rolls her eyes and exchanges them for the much pricier branded version.

“You save people and blow things up?”

He couldn’t have described Smoke’s actual function on the battlefield more concisely. “Mostly I prevent things from blowing up, but the premise is the same.”

“Are you the smart one? Did you attend Oxford?”

“Cambridge. Yes.” He’s momentarily caught up in witnessing his ego grow a few sizes at the thought of Smoke talking about him to his daughter, so he forgives her for the gaffe. Most people who mistake one prestigious university for the other aren’t so lucky and invite a lengthy lecture over the age-old rivalry between the two. Charlie gets a pass.

“Same thing.”

Alright. Okay.

All bets are off.

“I’ll have you know that they’re extremely -”, and this round goes to Charlie with her unbearably smug grin making it impossible to think she’s not a blood relative of Smoke’s. He looks exactly like this whenever he’s managed to rile Mute up as well. He deflates and manages to catch himself before he rolls his eyes. “Brat. That won’t work again.”

“Wanna bet?” She’s laughing now yet there’s no malice behind it. Growing up with half a parent left an impact on her, Mute can tell: trying to stay positive and find joy in everything, but her level of independence reminds him of his own at her age. There’s a few aspects of a typical childhood he didn’t get to experience. Regardless, she’s fiercely loyal and her love for Smoke obvious. “Are you better at maths than him?”

“Easily.” He fondly recalls the look on Smoke’s face the one time he gave in and actually explained the calculations he was doing.

“I got a ton of homework over the break and my maths teacher is a hardass.”

“Need my help with anything?”

“Well, I’m done with all of it. But maybe you could just check it for mistakes.”

At this point, he wonders how Smoke managed to raise such an angel. She’s distant in a friendly way and he assumes she takes time warming up to anyone, just like he’s sure there’s a bubbly, excitable and emotional girl hidden under the nonchalant façade. “Sure.”

“And you need to teach me how to defend myself. Dad still refuses.”

Finding it a little odd Smoke would neglect to train his own daughter, he agrees once more and forgets two very crucial details in the process: Charlie already baited him before. And Smoke boxed for a long, long time.

.

His fight response kicks in the moment the mattress dips and it takes several it’s me, it’s me until he stops struggling against the grip around his wrists, loosening as soon as he sinks back into the unfamiliar sheets. Smoke’s wearing a grin that’s entirely too handsome and yet not pretty enough for Mute not to take a swing at him when a sharp jolt of pain shoots through him at the welcoming kiss.

“Ow, fuck”, Smoke hisses and glides under the covers to drape himself over Mute like a second blanket. His clothes are cold, he must’ve returned home not long ago. “We got sent home early, otherwise I would’ve stayed another week. What happened to your nose?”

They’re keeping their voices down and together with the dulled lamp in the corner, the room is filled with softness: velvet shadows, kind whispers, gentle touches. Mute relaxes again and wraps his arms around the familiar body the way he couldn’t the past two weeks. “Charlie”, he says.

He missed this ungraceful snort. Missed all of him, really; now that he’s back it’s clear as day. “Your fault for falling for it.”

“She do this often?”

“Only with me. But then she doesn’t hold back. ‘Dad, I think I forgot everything you taught me’. ‘Dad, can you show me that one kick again’. ‘Dad, I’m not gonna embarrass you again, I promise’.” Their giggles echo in between the rustling of clothes. Mute is undressing him without motive, but when Smoke starts moving against him with purpose, his fingers become more insistent. “I didn’t expect you to stay overnight. I only asked you to make sure she’s got everything she needs.”

“It was her idea. She destroyed me in Mario Kart, I dominated her in Smash Bros., and then it was late already.”

“You didn’t even clean. The place still looks like shite.”

“Listen. We went shopping, I taught her scary-sounding maths words to intimidate you, she almost broke my nose, then we watched some cartoons and played video games. There was no time.”

Smoke is beaming at him and he can’t take it. He looks fucking stoked, as if Mute offered to take his brat off his hands or to cook for him for the rest of their lives, and somehow it’s scarier than coming here, facing such a significant part of Smoke’s life all on his own. There’s devotion in these eyes, and adoration, something far bigger than simple gratitude. They both know Mute’s visit here isn’t a courtesy. It may be a test of some kind, and he seems to have passed with flying colours if Smoke’s maniacal grin is anything to go by.

He’s terrified of what’s gonna come out of Smoke’s mouth next.

Because he -

He just doesn’t know -

“God you’re fucking hot”, Smoke breathes and thank Christ, this is familiar territory.

His fist is enough for Smoke to push into while sucking deep purple bruises onto his shoulder to stop himself from anything more than a mewl, and though Mute is too tired to get off himself, his toes curl the moment it splatters warm on his stomach. There’s nothing new to their touches, nothing remarkable about the way they instinctively wrap around each other as they drift off, and yet it’s Smoke’s bed in Smoke’s house and therefore it’s all foreign somehow.

The love bites thrum in gentle pain, the flat creaks like any strange place when his ears haven’t started filtering out the usual yet, and none of it matters because Smoke is drooling on his arm. Small steps. Mute can do small steps.

He has a feeling one of them is coming up with an excuse for him to spend some more time here soon.

No guys, Charlie said. He only sent babysitters over. No friends, nobody from work. No one like you.

And then the young woman who probably upended Smoke’s life the day she stepped into it, the grown-up girl for whom Smoke grew up himself more than ten years ago, the blue-haired student who’s earned so much of Smoke’s love and time gave him a meaningful look. Added: He doesn’t get attached.

Me neither, Mute replied. And was already looking forward to watching her and Smoke interact.

[latitudesunknown]

Tiny Haven Gazette #3

In which I drop the gazette format because it takes an ungodly amount of time and nobody cares. 🎉

My house gets a first floor, and coincidentally, my storage doubles, which is a relief. That should free me from spending 30mn every day desperately trying to figure out what to part with for at least a month.

So much space!

And now that it’s been upgraded, I get more customization options and can change the outside of my house!

¨����¨

By sheer dumb luck, I finally figure out how to get money trees!!!! I can’t believe it took me so long (although I’m very happy I never looked the answer up online). I should have known there was something up with the glowing golden hole that appeared whenever you dug up some money, that thing was clearly magic!

My pockets were full, so I had no choice but to bury back the money bag I’d just dug out, and this happened. Honestly considering how often I walk around with full pockets I’m astounded this didn’t happen sooner.

So now I have a little money tree orchard. Next experience: does the money tree give you MORE money if you plant a bigger money bag? Tried it this morning, will get an answer in a few days.

¨🦄¨

Raiiiiinbow!

That’s it. There’s no story to go with it, but it’s the first rainbow I’ve seen in the game!

¨🦄¨

I can’t stop thinking about that sweet little cow I saw on @astorytotellyourfriends​​ ‘s island last week, so I decide to build the last house in the hopes of finding her on an island and inviting her over. 

In the process, I realize I could have built myself a beach house all along.

Damnit!

To my horror, however, the very next morning, the house has been sold to a stranger!

Thankfully, my new neighbour, while not being Norma, is just as sweet.

I covet her living room SO BADLY. And also I kinda wanna eat her. Why would you design a rhinoceros to look like a cake?! She must get nightmares where people run after her, trying to bite off her strawberry horn.

¨🦄¨

Shortly after, and as a result of me ignoring him completely for a few days, Phebus FINALLY decides to leave the island.

I actually took a chance when I decided to talk to him, considering that’s the way he always looks.

“Good luck with the neighbours, their stories and their problems... you’re going to need a good dose of patience!”

That shouldn’t be a problem because, unlike you, I actually like people!

And because I like people, of course, joke’s on me, because I feel super sad to see him leave. 🙄

¨🦄¨

Following his departure, I start buying mystery island tickets like a crazy person, hoping to bump into Norma, but so far, no luck.

Why did I meet so many chickens?!

It’s the second day Phebus’s old house is on sale and I’m sure it’ll get sold to a random NPC any second now. The stress is intense!

¨🦄¨ 

I don’t know what’s up with them but everyone on the island keeps asking me if they should change their catchphrases! After the tenth time, I finally give in with Lili, assuming she’ll just come up with a new one on her own, but then am faced with a horrible screen that is asking ME to come up with something on the spot!

Have I mentioned how much I love it when she makes that face?

It took me ten minutes and some internet research to come up with this. This is too big of a responsibility!!

At least she was happy about it.

I’ve gone back to refusing to help the others, though. At least not until I can come up with proper catchphrases for them!

¨🦄¨

For the very first time, I get asked to play postman for my villagers. See, Nacer’s been bonding with Kali (no wonder, since they’re both jocks), but he was too shy to give him a present himself.

“Kali has helped me so much, I picked up a present for him. But I’m too shy to give it to him myself...”

Feeling like cupid, I hurry to Kali’s house. 👼🏹💘

“A frog costume! Oh la la!”

I have to admit that wasn’t the kind of gift I’d been expecting considering how much they both love sports, but ok!

“Did Kali say something about the gift?”

That was super cute, I hope I’ll get more requests like it!

¨🦄¨

In the span of one week I must have learnt about 20 new mimics, which, honestly, I find baffling. Most of them are just sliiiiight variations, it’s ridiculous. In the game I used to work on we ended up with about 50 expressions per character, but that was because they needed to express a wide range of emotions in very subtle ways. You don’t need that for cute island critters, especially when emoting is such a slow process in the first place!

¨🦄¨

Justine visits again one night, which gets everyone on the island talking.

“Since we have a visitor, I’ve baked some cakes. I hope she’ll like them...”

“I absolutely MUST tell her ‘hi’ before she leaves!”

“No, don’t mind me, you’ve got a visitor! Focus on being a good hostess!”

I like their reactions so much I spend more time speaking with my islanders than my visitors whenever I have one, haha.

Also, I love the smoke trails in the sky whenever a plane leaves. That small connection to a bigger world is very comforting.

¨🦄¨ 

Abraham, true to himself, is adorable.

“Good evening, sweets! Grum grom grom... My tummy also says good evening!”

🥰

Later we play to a little game with freakishly accurate results.

“Let’s play! Tell me your favourite color, and I will tell you what food you are.”

“You chose orange, which means you’re easy to live with, but you can also sometimes feel lonely.”

In the end, he said I was an onion. Layers, y’see.

¨🦄¨

I also finally figure out how to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, and get treated to many a story.

Lili : I just read my horoscope... You’re not gonna believe it! It’s sick!

Phebus : What am I supposed to not believe, exactly? The horoscope, or the fact that you managed to read it through? You know what, just tell me what it said, let’s get this over with.

Lili : Listen to this... “Your travels will bring good surprises.” Isn’t that sick?! Especially for me, because I love good surprises!

Phebus : Um... I guess? I mean, I don’t know. How did that make you sick? I’m confused.

Lili : Nah, just wait! After that, I went shopping, and it was the spring sales! Get that, I got a sweet little dress on sale! I was so happy I thought I was going to pass out!

Phebus : What?! Don’t kid with that! D’you need me to call for help?

Lili (totally ignoring him) : So anyway I put on my new dress and went for a walk. And that’s when it started raining big time, and I got drenched... Why didn’t my horoscope warn me about that?!

Phebus : I don’t know... have you tried reading the weather column instead?

¨🦄¨ 

I catch Vanessa and Maëlle talking about a movie they both watched... except they both remember it very differently...

Maëlle : Oh, Vanessa, thanks for lending me that movie, I loved it! The costumes were gorgeous... I want the leading lady’s straw hat!

Vanessa : And that chase in hydro planes! Pfiiiiiiiouuu, ppfffz, ka-BOUM! That was awesome sauce!

Maëlle : And that dress with golden trimmings that she wears at the picnic... that was fine art!

Vanessa : And what about the fight against the giant robot? When he punches a hole in the planet? Whazaam!

Maëlle : Yes! He really stole the scene with his diamond plates... It must have cost a fortune! ... ... Wait, did you say he punched a hole in a planet? Was that before or after the ball?

😂

¨🦄¨

Later, I find the same two talking about Maëlle’s insect infestation problem (probably caused by all the sweets she keeps in her house, just saying). When she asks me what I would do, I tell her I’d just move out, which gets me a VERY judgmental look from Vanessa.

“How do you manage to get rid of them?”

Vanessa’s solution, in the end, is for Maëlle to sell her house to “an insect-loving weirdo”. I wish I knew if that was a dig at Abraham or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Bah, that can’t be impossible. You just need a real weirdo who thinks insects aren’t so bad!”

¨🦄¨

Lili and Raymond get into a big argument about Lili’s cooking skills...

Raymond : By the way, Lili, I haven’t thanked you for lunch the other day! It was very good!

Lili : “Very good”? Seriously, don’t you have something even more corny? Nobody says that anymore! Don’t you mean it was delicious? Or maybe extremely refined? Or maybe super exquisite?

Raymond : Oh! You’re right, I’m sorry. Um, it was... delectable... succulent... A concentrate of sheer deliciousness!

Lili : And?

Raymond : And... every bite sent my taste buds into a transcendental ecstasy?

Lili : Oh! Is that a question or a statement, Raymond?

Raymond : A statement, of course! Pff... All that to describe a stupid sole meunière...

Lili : Don’t tell me you’ve just called my sole meunière, my mother’s own recipe!, “stupid”?!

I’m still amazed that they parted in good terms, I thought for sure Lili would keep on fuming

¨🦄¨

After trying to get my first residents to spruce up their apartments, with mitigating results...

I mean, the ball, jars and punching sack are all gifts of mine, so that’s cool he’s got them all out at the same time, but that’s still a sad little barren house.

I finally look it up online and discover their houses are actually not supposed to be like this at all! Turns out poor Nacer, Vanessa, Abraham, Renée and Lili are all stuck with generic houses because they got to my island too soon!

This is what Renée’s house should look like! 

So I’ve decided to try and gift them all their true houses’ furniture, little by little. I know they can’t change their wallpapers or floors, but hopefully if I get them the right couches, beds, etc, they’ll display them all. 🤞