#how to clean roomba

[akkivee]

in the hypster magazine, when asked if there was anything he reeeeeaaaaally wanted, ichiro responded that he wants one of those robot cleaners and you know else has been asking for that exact thing lmao????

[legitimatesatanspawn]

Transcript: JL-D-R-13h516753

There are so many questions raised by this. Is the alien kid on Earth? Not by that skyline, but it could be a fake. WHY is the alien kid interested in Earth and specifically knows so much about the Justice League? In fact how is he speaking English with a vaguely... Latin accent? Spanish...? .... wait is that Esperanto?!

Why is the alien kid using Earth words for star systems and has a constructed language accent?

Don't call an alien a human weeaboo. It sounded even dumber the second time.

... ANYWAY, (sound glitches) - yeah, the one into myths and legends - insists that "T" is the spitting image of Duul Aman. Younger. A lot younger. But... uh... kind of impossible to pin a match to a statue? And the body of Duul Aman was lost? So... Oh, okay, they got tossed into Ancient Egypt. That happens distressingly often, so did a hero rescue you or did you manage to get back on your ow- ... how dID YOU TIME TRAVE-

MOVING ON.

NO WE'RE NOT CONTINUING THAT TANGENT.

Matching the alien kid to his species is pretty much next to impossible. You have any idea how many human-like species there are in our galaxy alone? How unusually common bipedalism is? We have XENOBIOLOGISTS CRYING over the sheer IMPROBABILITY of this. THAT 'GREEN-SKINNED ALIEN' TROPE SHOULD NOT BE A THING. And that's BEFORE getting into the problem of ALL THE ONES WHO LOOK LIKE NORMAL HUMANS WITHOUT TRANSFORMATIONS/ILLUSIONS. YES I'm pissed about this, Frank, you are being a troll asking me that question and YOU KNOW IT.

Wherever he is seems to be human-safe if Young Aman is any hint. I wish that narrowed it down... We got an update from Superman about that weird plant that was growing out of the 'rainbow geode' posted yesterday. They tried to claim was a bismuth but bISMUTH DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THA- STOP SPRAYING ME WITH WATER, FRANK. ... yes I'm calm now. Okay. The plant is some kind of Kryptonian species, supposedly similar to honeysuckle but it tastes like 'the way lava doesn't smell?' Unhelpful. But odds are that the rainbow geode is kryptonite.

... I don't want to find out what all those new colors will do either.

wait have you been recording this? Please don't save this. This is just train of thought PLEASE don't send this to anyo-

(video cuts off)

[JL-B-01 / Appended notes: Use satellite to scan for multilayered Kryptonite radiation signatures. Look into recent temporal disruptions that involved Egypt. See if we can add more vacation days to non-combat members. If possible and not through amoral means, apply whatever methods preventing the channel from being taken down to the official JL channel; could prove useful in case of emergencies. ]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[songofwizardry]

they should invent a roomba that cleans whiteboards

[ruershrimo]

down bad fr | f.megumi x reader

@takumifujiwarastan remember how a while back you said here that it sucked how there weren't enough introverted girls, reserved girls etc. SO I did try writing this please enjoy their (gn reader woooo) emotional constipation even though the reticence of their personality isn't really highlighted eurgh

having a crush on megumi is so fucking stupid. it’s driving you insane. 

you can’t even talk to him. everything he does, everything he says— your heart leaps like a rabbit he casts, and your emotions soar into a terrifyingly messy mishmash of confusion and yearning and infatuation, and then everything in between. 

you feel helpless, vulnerable like this— rendered out of control of your feelings after years of emotional constipation and a harsh strictness on yourself to rein them in like a rowdy horse being whipped during derby matches. you’re a climber, you’re hanging precariously from a cliff with every interaction, a child standing before a blueprint with nothing but toy blocks and a kiddie hammer, a roomba with its sensors malfunctioning— you get the point. those were enough metaphors to delineate your predicament.  

well, he doesn’t even like you anyway, right?

but you want him so badly. 

you just want to hammer it into his thick skull. to just go, ‘hey, I like you even if you may not like me! just go out with me anyway!’ 

yet with each interaction you struggle even more. because how the hell do you confess to fushiguro megumi, much less go out with him and become his partner?

for years romance had remained nothing but a velleity, a nice fantasy you could slip into when your mind demanded respite in the form of escapism and jejune daydreams. but now that your adoration for him has made it all somewhat possible, you don’t know what to do— your control is being tended away from you, and the worst part is that you don’t even mind it that much. 

spiky black hair and eyelashes of silk pass you by, his scent as clean as freshly laundered sheets in hotels. at the start you had thought little about him beyond him being your classmate and eventually just your confidante. yet gradually, you surprised yourself. and everything about him is attractive nowadays: his hair, his pearlescent teeth, the viridian hue of his eyes— hell, he made even the way he drank coffee look like a model of a man in an antediluvian monochrome film of the sixties. and it was so normal, so average, that you were about to slap yourself for the fact that an everyday trait  of his had become something so lovely to look at just because it was him. megumi would hold the cup securely by his lithe fingers, the same one he spouted cursed energy from when summoning his shikigami, before lifting the cup up and bringing the brim to his mouth, his lips that never chapped. 

nobara asks whether he’s drinking black coffee to look cool around and attract people. needless to say, at least you were attracted. 

you hoped he didn’t see the way your face must have blanked out, gaze transfixed on his eyes as he took swigs from his mug. 

why’d he have to be like that?!

megumi continued looking at ozawa, the girl who had a crush on itadori— she was just like you for real, but with double the courage and half the emotional constipation. 

you hoped it would work out for her. that way, perhaps you could muster the strength and bravery to do the same, too. 

you take another look at him. he’s really pretty. had you kicking your feet in the air and all and then screaming in horror because of it, had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing. 

with the help of kugisaki and megumi, ozawa and itadori, the two of them are cajoled to go around tokyo together. it’s the best ‘date’ that the two of them can help the other two have, especially since itadori is dense as rocks (megumi’s probably worse based on your experiences, then) and ozawa is as shy as a touch-me-not flower. 

“oh, and [name],” megumi starts while nobara strolls ahead, all set to begin a new shopping spree. 

“ah— uh, yeah?” you stammer. 

“do you like me? romantically, I mean…” he scratches the back of his neck. 

what the fuck. is this seriously happening? right now? 

“huh? what? I—” 

“no, it’s just that— seeing ozawa made me think. I guess I never considered it an option, but I suppose I have had… feelings for you for a pretty long time…” 

“woah. ah, sorry, I meant— sorry, I’m just very surprised…” you scramble, your hands gesticulating all kinds of things in an exaggerated way of taking it back because yes you like him, you like him a lot— “I mean, I do like you! it’s just, fuck— uh, what do I say— I’m really scared. I thought you didn’t reciprocate at all.” 

“I could tell. but I…” he hesitates, “I overthought everything,” then with a frown, he goes, “gojo would have teased me if he was here.” 

“well, I– uh. we’re lucky he isn’t, I guess?” you pause, “...so what do we do now? are we a thing? are we dating? wait, am I going too fast? I, oh my goodness, I—” 

“would you like to?” he asks. your knees are about to buckle with every second he keeps his eyes on yours. 

“I…— well, I would.” 

“then it’s settled. can I— can I hold your hand, please?” 

“...okay.” 

with trepidation in your hands and your heart pounding in your chest, you inch your hands closer, saline sweat on them as if you’d dipped it into the sea. he keeps his gaze on yours— they’re as unsure as you are, his cheeks a slight scarlet, his eyes swirling with nervousness but a sliver of anticipation, of joy and relief. so he feels exactly the same as you do, then. 

his fingers find yours after a while, tracing along the lines of your palm like a blind man touching something for the first time. you want to learn to love and to memorise each nook and cranny of him starting with his palm, and for once emotional vulnerability is not that bad. 

kugisaki’s in for a shock as soon as she turns around. first it was itadori potentially having a partner before she does, and now megumi? 

imagine writing this because of being delulu abt an irl crush (i should be studying for my exams.) haha couldn't be me right (i'm so cooked)

[brucewaynehater101]

There's Titans Tower but Tim decides to go ahead and set up a Young Justice base as well since someone (it was Jason) ruined his ability to feel safe there and since so many people have the ability to interfere with the security settings of Titan's Tower. Also Damian and his little friends are starting to spend more time there and while Kon doesn't mind spending time with Jon, there is still a significant age gap between Tim's group and Damian's group and neither is interested in one side acting as babysitter for the other. Thus, Tim sets up Young Justice Base. It is a little bubble dome under water somewhere between Atlantis and Themyscira. They have a robot who does the dishes and light cleaning of common areas. Tim calls the robot Mrs. Mac. Cassie calls it Rosie (Jetsons). Kon goes with Rosie Mac to placate them both. Bart goes with BB (for Better than Braniac). Rosie BB Mac is not an advanced AI, she's a tiny bit more advanced than the average roomba. She does, on occasion, have to be pushed out of corners where she's gotten stuck. Bart has to be stopped from taping a knife to her. Bart rips off casinos to help fund the base. Kon goes and mines some asteroids for minerals to sell and use as building materials his part of the funding. Cassie convinces Hippolyta to led them some Amazons to help with the construction. The base may or may not have a blessing from Amphitrite and Hestia. Tim can finally have a place where he feels safe to sleep. Kon and Bart have a place that is their home where they don't feel like they're infringing on the hospitality of someone who feels obligated to them for things that aren't their fault. Cassie has a place where she can stretch and not feel confined or burdened by other's expectations. Anita, Cissie, and Greta absolutely visit. Anita brings the kids. They now have a safe place to retreat to just in case of an emergency. The kids love seeing the fish swim by and think it's just a really cool aquarium.

and if this is the Space Emperor AU then this is where Cassie stores all her ugly dishes with the team's faces on them and where the others on the team store theirs as well. If any of them go missing or get broken then there's a much smaller list of suspects for her to interrogate than if she were to keep them with her mom. Fewer questions as well for any of them to deal with.

Gods, I love underwater bases. Bioshock was a hella fun game to play because it was an underwater city. I've also tried to make a ton of Minecraft bases in the ocean.

Anyways, YJ deserves their own place that isn't associated with anyone else. They deserve either a brand new construction (like this) or a renovated one they found themselves (instead of it being an old space from other heroes). I'd live for the fluff of them slowly making the place theirs (from the weird paintings they hang up, the curtains they bicker over, the plethora of photos of loved ones, the random trinkets each one brings to decorate, etc). This is their home, and they should be able to make it fit them.

I'd also want to see some of the hurt/comfort of Tim finally losing that little bit of tension he never noticed he carries (since he's finally safe. He will be safe. No one can hurt him here).

Kon doesn't have to put on a persona. He's able to relax and simply exist.

Cassie catches herself just watching her friends with a fond smile on her face. She can't get enough of them just being around and being okay.

Bart doesn't have to try to fit himself into what others want him to be. YJ accepts him as he is, no matter what he does or how he acts.

[iamafanofcartoons]

Tumblr Folklore Stories/Blogs Directory/Masterlist

There are so many great Tumblr Blog stories here! But things are best when organized! Here you are! I’m going to use Tumblr Blaze in a couple weeks to spread this to everyone, but if all of you can reblog this to everyone you know, we can spread the joys of Tumblr to EVERYONE!

Credit to https://www.tumblr.com/dannnnnnnnnnnnex/700073427344736256/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

The God of Arepo (graphic novel 1 / 2 / 3) (ebook)

The Monster of Sentan

The Witch’s Cat

Raise Both Children

Stabby the Roomba (honorable mention)

Cinderella Marries the Prince (comic)

My Arch Nemesis Cynthia

Pirates and Mermaid

Eindred and the Witch

The Demon King

The Cornerwitch

Grandmother Beetroot

Apocalypse Daycare Worker

Grandmother Accidentally Summons a Demon

New Year Saga

A Story About Changelings

Ranger in the King’s Forest

The Difference Between a Hare and a Rabbit

Goblin Men (Canines)

Faceblind Prince Charming and Cinderella

 The human who died of radiation poisoning after repairing the spaceship

The defeat of the wizard who made people choose how they’d be to be executed

Doctors Without Borders

The Queen with Three Cursed Children

25. Tiny Dragon with one coin hoard

26. Haunted house

27. Shark hero was about to go rogue

28. Grandma lives in the woods comic

29. A Different Aftermath comic

30. Battery (microstory but I love it so much)

31. It’s A Date comic

32. Supervillian kidnaps rival’s kid and they want to stay

33. Narrative Town

34. I have been hired to clean the wizard tower comic

35. Robot Apocalypse

36. The Statues That Do Not Weather

37. Kushiel

38. Tooth Fairy

39. Alien abduction

40. Felonious wish-granting

41. When humans met actual space orcs

42. Space cousins

Well, now they’re categorized.

 https://www.tumblr.com/inkvoices/700033965299531776/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

https://www.tumblr.com/lightningladybug/699931426130444288/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

https://www.tumblr.com/blitzlowin/699840636252225536/love-how-tumblr-has-its-own-folk-stories-yeah-the

Also, this is a RWBY-positivity BLOG, so please watch RWBY

[princeoftheeternalbog]

THE KING HAS RETURNED

guys im so sorry I can't believe i havent posted in so long its very unsexy of me so this is sweet comfort fluff about embarrassment as i am very embarrassed right now of my own actions (taking over two months to post again)

i was considering posting this without the old men and then decided that if im doing the strawhats im doing everyone ESPECIALLY sans and moby dick

Luffy

Laughs. But if you look sad he starts feeling bad and tries to make you laugh instead. But also he'll forget that it made you sad and bring it up again later. He tries his best to accommodate for your feelings but he's a naturally casual guy so he doesn't see what's embarrassing. There's a few miscommunications about this at the start of your relationship until he explains that no matter what you do he adores you🥲

Zoro

He didn't even notice it to be honest, or he thinks it's really cute. And if you bring it up to ask him about it he's just like what are you talking about, nobody was even looking. That's a lie, he was looking because he he's lowkey obsessed with you, but he doesn't want to make you feel worse so he just lies. He even pretends that him always saving you from falling is coincidental, you at least know that ones a lie but sweet nonetheless.

Sanji

Tries to reassure you but draws attention to it by accident, and then he does something more embarrassing to cover it up. To be honest though it really works, people just talk about him instead. But he also makes you feel less embarrassed just by how much he dotes on you, if you fall then he's swooping you up bridal style to go to chopper, if you spill something on your dress he'll cover you up with his jacket, he'll clean anything you break with not a single complaint, he just adores every fibre of your being, even the wayward clumsy ones.

Usopp

Always thinks it's cute. And he really relates to the anxious feelings so he's just treats it like a normal situation, if anyone else saw it then he makes sure to tell them to not speak of it. He will also replace your clothes if you accidentally damage them :) like you wake up and your favourite skirt that you accidentally spilled ink all over and had to bin is now on your bed, brand new and sparkling. He also makes little inventions to help you out, both silly and serious, like a portable air bag that inflates with a button, a little robot that is essentially a roomba, little things like that.

Nami

Threatens everyone who saw it to never speak of it and then distracts you as much as possible until you stop thinking about it. Will cuddle you if you get really upset about it but she doesn't really understand why you would be embarrassed because she thinks everything you do is perfect. She does eventually learn when there's going to be a possible chance for an accident, she's predicting your clumsiness like the weather🫡 she stops what she can and tries to teach you how to avoid these situations :)

Prevents said embarrassing moment. Listen she's just so efficient and she spots problems before they happen so she's just secretly fixing stuff because she never wants you to feel bad. It's not until like months into your relationship and you're apart for some reason that theres like a series of unfortunate events that reminds you how clumsy you can be and realise what she's been doing. Lots of appreciation kisses after that for sure.

Robin

Franky

Honestly you never really feel embarrassed around him, he's just so easy going and he manages to make everything seem normal. If you trip or walk into something he just checks to see if you're okay, if you spill something on yourself or rip something he uses his shirt to cover you while you go and get changed. He really could not gaf as long as you still fancy him tbh. But if someone makes you feel bad then it's like that scene from the cat in the hat(he will make it look like an accident) :

Brook

Concerned if you're hurt or if you get upset, but otherwise completely doesn't care. He just nonchalantly fixes the vase you broke, or helps you up from the floor and just pretends that he didn't watch you accidentally eat a fly. He really is just so in love with you and he still carries the manners of his youth so he refuses to contribute to your embarrassment in any way. But he loves an excuse to keep his hands on you, guiding you by the shoulders, holding your arm, carrying you around, he can't get enough of it.

Jinbei

Lovely beautiful man, he is always embarrassing himself but he's old enough to not care anymore and neither should you, if you fall over guaranteed it's because you're laughing at him just having slipped on deck. With Jinbei you become the type of couple where you bring each other down literally and up metaphorically, there can hardly be any embarrassment to you're sharing happiness all the time.

[totaly-obsessed]

Mess of a Mind

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Alexia's life is much more chaotic with you and your ADHD - but she wouldn't change it for a thing

-> Based on my daily struggles in life

-> reader has ADHD

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The moment Alexia received a text from you that read ‘I’m gonna clean’ – she already knew that she was coming home to a bigger mess than before.

Your ADHD makes cleaning things much more complicated than they need to be. But you were sick of being useless in the house. Because with Ale being at training most days and you still in university you were definitely the one in the relationship with more time on their hands. And while your girlfriend definitely didn’t expect you to do everything in the house, helping out with some chores would be nice.

But there it is.

The dreaded word ‘chores’. As soon as something fell under the category, you were all of a sudden unable to do that.

Alexia had asked you to put the trash outside one morning before leaving for training – which you were going to do anyway. But now, that it was your chore? No chance. The blonde came home to no trash outside, but a mess on the inside.

But you didn’t do nothing. In fact – you were quite productive. All of the possible trashcans that were placed around your house were now labeled their respective contents in hand-placed crafting diamonds. Nala lying by your side, nose stuck into the front pocket of your (Alexia’s) Hoodie.

The moment you saw fuzzy socks standing in front of you, was when you realized that you were supposed to take the trash outside. You hadn’t even heard her come in. Ale however wasn’t mad at you, she could see that you had vacuumed the entire house, as well as unloaded the dishwasher. As always you had left the last item on top of the kitchen aisle when your brain was already finished with the task, when in actuality there was still something left.

“Hola bebe. What are you doing?”

It was moments like these that you realized how much of a saint your girlfriend really was. Mapi, like the curious cat she was, peeked at her friend’s phone – wondering what she had seen that had her face all scrunched up. “What did your Roomba text you now – huh?”

Yeah. Roomba.

That’s what your girlfriend’s teammates called you after Lucy had compared you to one. Not because you were Ale’s live-in maid, but because her captain had once come home after a meeting, to a mess of a living room. Loads of different craft projects everywhere. And after following the trail of abandoned projects and broken dreams, she saw you. Stuck in the corner – panicking like a Roomba who can’t get back to its loading station. Lucy and Keira had both been there when Ale found you. That is how your nickname was born.

“She said that she was going to clean up.” Alexia tried to ignore her best friend laughing at your plans – knowing what happened the last time. But upon arriving at your shared house – you were nowhere to be found.

As expected there was chaos everywhere.

The vacuum was lying on the ground, directly next to the coffee table – at least it wasn’t running. Or rather what was left of the said table – two legs were missing, both on the same side, so now it was lopsided, and a once-filled coffee cup was lying on the rug, its filling now spilled on the carpet. The mug must have slid down the table, once it missed its legs.

Approximately every bowl that your kitchen holds placed on the counters, is filled with various things. The footballer recognized the ingredients to your favorite cake. The bathroom mirror was still covered in cleaning spray – apparently, you forgot to wipe it off.

She had already changed at taken a seat on the couch when she heard the front door open and your muttering once you entered. “Hola Ale!”

“Hola mi amor.”

“Oh god! What happened here?” The blonde throned on her usual corner of the couch in the midst of the chaos, Nala in her lap – both of them looking at you with curious eyes, wondering what you would do. “I don’t know what happened – it looked like this when I came home.”

Both of you knew that it could not have been Nala, the tiny dog did not have thumbs to turn on the vacuum.

Once the stain caught your eye – you remembered everything. “Oh right! I was vacuuming and then I hit the coffee table, but it wobbled so it was broken, so I had to fix it! Then the mug slid down the table, it spilled all over the carpet! So I went to the kitchen to grab paper Towles!”

This was better than any TV show Alexia could have watched – she was not mad. “And the cake in the kitchen?”

“Oh! You are right!” You were now following your own mess as if you were a detective discovering a crime scene. “I went to grab the paper towels to blot the stain – then I remembered that I wanted to make a cake – but I spilled milk. So, I went to grab toilet paper to clean up.”

Alexia, Nala and you were now standing in the bathroom, a foamy mirror laughing at you. “Right, and then I sprayed the mirrors, but I had no towels to wipe it off, so I went to the store!”

Now you had solved the crime – your main suspect? Yourself.

Alexia could not help but laugh at your satisfied facial expression once you came to your conclusion. After packing away your shopping you realize that you had gotten everything aside from why you had gone in the first place. “Why did I want paper towels again?”

Your girlfriend did not answer you. She was leaning against the fridge, muscular arms crossed in front of her and she just stared at you. A soft smile on her lips. “Ale?”

After planting a soft kiss on your forehead, she led you to the living room. “The stain, bebita.”

“Oh! You are right!” Without hesitating you dropped to your knees in front of the still-wet stain. No wonder there, but before Alexia could react, you had pulled your shirt off and thrown it on the coffee – blotting the stain.

The blonde pulled you up by your elbows “Oh baby. Could’ve used a towel.” You looked like a bratty kid, being held up by your girlfriend while you tried to get the stain away. “Oh right! We do not have paper towels; I will go and get some!”

The Barcelona player set you down on the couch as gently as she could “No mi Corazón. You already went out.” She was gentle and sweet and ever so patient as she helped you tidy your mess.

It was late when you finished, your brain now tired from running at 180km/h the entire day – so Alexia decided to order takeout. It took her twenty minutes to figure out what you wanted to choose from her suggestions because your very low attention span sprang from the TV to Nala, to your book, and then to the still very-much-there stain.

Ale had to take you to your shared bedroom, sit you on the bed, and kneel in front of you – one hand holding both of yours in front of your chest, the other holding your face so that you could not avoid her eyes.

But finally, you had settled on Pasta. She even figured out which one you wanted.

Once it arrived both of you carried the things you needed from the now clean kitchen to the couch, sitting down ready to eat.

Or at least that was the plan.

While Ale already started eating, you realized, that you missed something. “Oh, I need a freakin’ fork.” And with that you had stood up again, wandering to the kitchen and while you came back with a fork, you just stood in front of the couch.

Ale watched closely as your eyes drifted off. “I need to get my sauce.” And *poof* you were gone again.

You returned with said sauce and sat down again. Ale already saw what was coming, holding onto your plate that wobbled when you stood up with force, throwing your hands up in the sky. “Freaking fork!”

Fork in one hand, water in the other, you came back. Before setting both items down on the table, you looked at your girlfriend – “Would you like some water as well baby?” The older woman nodded, she appreciated that you thought of her while your brain was driving you insane. “That would be nice, thank you corazón.” 

She felt bad seeing you walk away with both water and your fork in hand, but she didn’t want to stop you, in fear that you would think that you were stupid, not being able to get everything you needed. So, she let you be.

Alexia even waited patiently as you sang in the kitchen for five minutes, before coming back with two water glasses, handing her the one you had already taken a sip out of. “Did you take my fork?”

“No baby. I think you left it in the kitchen.”

“No, I didn’t, I put my fork here.” Instead of showing her a specific place, you just plainly pointed to the entire table. But there was no second fork – so you went back again returning victoriously with a fork.

A deep sigh left your body after finally sitting down next to your girlfriend again. “What happened to your water?”

After bringing it up, Alexia felt bad. Your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers massaging your temple where an annoying headache would surely be forming.

“I left it.”

Now you had everything. Food, fork, water, your girlfriend, Nala, and your favorite TV show.

You were incredibly hungry by now but after taking a bite, you let your fork fall into your pasta. “My food is cold now.” Without saying anything, Ale stood up and heated it back up for you.

Later that night you were finally lying in bed, Alexia’s hand rubbing your back, cooing in your ear. “Today was hard for you huh, bebita?” Soft kisses were littered all over your face and neck, the blonde smiling after being able to get a smile out of you.

“Tomorrow will be better.” While your ADHD could be frustrating, Alexia would never be angry at you for doing certain things or not doing them – she was just so happy to have you.

[adeptus-nonsense]

humans are poets as well as warmongers

Humans nowadays are well known far and wide in this galaxy. Mostly because they are some of the most chaotic, Stupid or bold "daredevils" around (think i used that word correctly).

While i do recall my first meeting with the humans very V E R Y badly since i served in the contact wars when the Graktuka a well known theocratic empire and very influential and politically strong contender in the galaxy stumbled across human colonies. They saw this as an hostile action since the planet they were settling were a holy world, That however is a story for another time.

Just know that the Graktuka empire shrunk by a significant margin to the point where they asked for militairy support. The humans had apparently developed a kind of magnetic accelerated firing plattform piercing through multiple layers of hull completely ignoring shields. Given that Graktuka empire relied on shields since most of the galactic arsenal is plasma based but their hull wasn't weak at all. Unconventional weapons had to be used to even dent their armour. Realising that the humans ships were massive but rather primitive and slow a ground based invasion was seen to be the optimal way off going.

If you were there you would know why humanity is as feared as they are. Masters of the what did they call it? Art of war? Yeah something like that. Fields of bombs buried into the ground detonating with a light step. Weapons dedicated to injure soldiers just enough to save them but not kill them in order to make the invader spend more resources on saving said soldier.

Even our bases of operations with shields were not safe, let me tell you if you think regular humans can cause damage to stuff by touching things dont even get near trained saboteurs with your stuff. They break things in a ways that seems like a simple malfunction and will work after a simple repair. When the shield generator first broke down i thought i could fix it in a matter of minutes, I still havent fixed it to this day and i have taken that thing apart thousands of times without finding the fault.

safe to say we lost that war and this is just one one planet. This was the short part. Just be glad that they pack bond with just about anything. Saw a human carry a cleaning unit and named it "Ronald the Roomba" And that is apparently our ships mascot. But this is things we all are aware of. Let me tell you of their poetic side

This is not something most of us see as common knowledge about humans, but their cultural aspect besides war is for a lack of better words beautiful. This thing they call music.

for all their wars they know how brutal they are and write songs about everything they did wrong and how they wished how they could change it. But that is not all, according to human Jakob music portrays emotions and ones feelings in a way that regular communication doesn't and you dont even need to understand the words to understand the emotion said piece is carrying. Which i know to be true, it's almost therapeutic

I think My log of it will be a better way to describe since it is honestly hard to describe [alltough be careful their music is quite loud for most prey species]

Year 4574 human sector 456854 log 1 of service leave. I am currently here on a passion project of mine. While the war has ended 6 years ago off now the tensions do still exist. Me and some comrades in service are taking some time off and going to what humans call a bar and apparently there is a human performing. I have no idea of how this is gonna go. All i know is humans are incredibly chaotic especially when intoxicated. Still i should probably record this for the culture scientists at social scientific hub.

Log 2

*murmur and loud talking in the background at the bar*

"for clarifications sake, my name is Groakslo, i am here with my two comrades Kyukla and Telosa. We are currently at the bar only to see that humans are actively drinking poison, i was quite shocked to hear this and asked if it isn't dangerous and the bartender said and i quote "nah we gucci" note to self find out what gucci is."

Log 3

"the humans were beginning to get rowdy and even slight outbursts of violence did occur but nothing the surprisingly loud bartender couldn't handle by a very concerning threat, followed by him saying that the band is preparing so settle down. Telosa and i looked at each other very confused but still awaited this "band"

Log 4

"the band arrived and started to set up weird things, long instruments with metal strings, of varying thickness, i asked the a human who were close by what they were and he said instruments. I asked what they were used for and he said to play music. I was getting nowhere and decided to see for myself what they were gonna do."

Log 5 (i decided to be quiet for this one)

"welcome folks and aliens of all sorts shapes and kinds! Thank you for coming to this bar for our first debut our name is The Lines In between, and for those who dont know human music, we'll slowly lean you into it with this first on and it is namned Memories beneath the stars" [3 hours of music recorded]

Final log (yes i know i could voice record but i want to write while the memory is fresh i'm bad with words)

I never knew that humans could make such songs. Telosa and Kyukla was particurlarly affected. The song was as the name suggest the memories we made sneaking out to watch the stars as younglings, reminiscing about the times when the stars were the most unknown, adventure filled and beautiful place to be in. But also about the connections they've lost over the years, the good times wiped away like a water slowly polishing a stone into sand. It was odd, beautiful calm, sad all at once.

The voices i heard when i fought humans in war can not even be compared to that of the singer in that band, what is most perplexing is that the once borderline rioting bar was completely quiet when the band was performing, almost as if in a trance completely captured by the singers voice, smooth, rough, raspy but controlled in a way i thought impossible. A song about 4 human minutes somehow managed to capture the full emotional spektrum of not only humans but multiple species in that bar.

Humans truly are an astounding species. Truly a species that are on all of the extremes, stupidity, ingenuity, violence, poetry and many many more. For now i'll sign off and hope you at the social cultural exchange fellas have a field day with the music file attached to this.

Grokslo, highly decorated former geothermical shield generator militairy specialist.

[gaybananabread]

Could I get lee!dabi and ler!hawks for day 28? <3

TickleTober Day 28 - Spooked

~Ehehe my bois! These two will always be one of my favorite ships to write; it’s so fun with their dialogue! Been a hot sec, so I’m sticking to the character attributes I remember. Dabi’s got his black hair and patchwork chest, and Hawks has his wings. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Dabi

Ler: Hawks

Summary: Dabi decides to spook his boyfriend with a “harmless” prank. Hawks doesn’t appreciate his sense of humor, teaching the crispy-fried villain a lesson he won’t soon forget.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“I’m home, Dabs!” Hawks bumped his hip against the janky door of the villain’s apartment, sighing as it stuck once again. He’d really have to get on his ass about moving in with him…

“Uh…why’s it so dark?” The winged hero felt like he was talking to himself as he looked around, fumbling for the light switch. It was in such a weird place; he could never find it, and that was with the lights on.

A thump sounded from Dabi’s room, making Hawks’s eyes narrow. That wasn’t normal…

Two feathers came off his wings, hovering beside him as he slowly approached the door. He was in full hero-mode, the familiar feeling of adrenaline creeping into his veins almost putting him at ease.

When he reached the door, he sent the feathers towards the thumping noise, only to find them…sticking out of the top of a Roomba. A very sad and confused little Roomba that kept bumping into the wall, hence the thumping.

“What the fu-”

“AAAUGH!”

Hawks let out his own scream at the deep-throated howl that came from behind him, whirling around to strike the offender. His wrist was easily caught, though instead of a bullet to the ribs or stab to the heart, he was met by the cheeky grin of his boyfriend.

“Ha! Holy fuckin’ shit, birdy! I didn’t think it’d get you that bad!” Dabi’s teeth were showing in an uncharacteristically gleeful smile, his eyes glowing with amusement. “Thought you hero types were supposed to be brave and all that.”

“You…” The blonde’s brain took a moment to catch up, the adrenaline in his system still addling his thoughts. Dabi had turned out the lights, set the Roomba, and… “You asshole! What if I’d stabbed you?!”

“But you didn’t. Actually, you stabbed the Roomba. Poor lil’ guy.” Dabi nudged the thing with his foot, watching as it shifted back and forth on the carpet. Hawks had definitely damaged it, but hadn’t completely broken it. It was just stuck in a sad little shuffle.

“I didn’t mean to- since when did you have a Roomba?” Hawks asked incredulously, looking around the apartment. The floor was kinda clean for once, save for the random shirt or sock here and there.

“Found it.” Dabi snickered at the look that earned him. “What, the guy was a dick! He was scammin’ people the whole morning.”

“Damn it, Dabi,” Hawks sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. No matter how terrible of a person the guy was, he shouldn’t have been stolen from. Unfortunately, the machine wasn’t exactly in peak condition anymore. “Can’t really return it now…”

“Oh no, so sad.” Dabi’s monotone snark really let Hawks know he regretted his actions. Not. “You should’ve seen your face, Keigo. Adorable~”

“Proud of yourself, are you?” Hawks’s voice dropped an octave, making Dabi’s grin falter slightly. Maybe he’d gone a little far, but…well, he really didn’t regret it. It was fun as hell to spook him.

“Yep. I always knew you were a chicken~”

Oho, that’s it, you shithead!

Hawks lunged at his boyfriend, making the man jump back. He landed on his bed, the bird quickly jumping down on top of him. After a quick tousle, the winged hero had him pinned, a dangerously playful glare on his face.

“Damn! You really are an adrenaline junkie, ain’t ya?” Dabi smirked up at him, puffing his chest out a bit. Even when he was stuck beneath someone, he managed to dominate the situation.

“Shut up.” The tone of his lover’s voice immediately shut him up, leaving the burnt boy blinking in surprise. Hawks shifted, forcing the man’s arms above his head. “You like laughing at me so much? Try laughing at yourself.”

“H-hey, Keigo, wait a min- GRK!” Dabi jolted as the winged hero targeted his navel, immediately attacking the unburned area that he knew damn well was ticklish as hell. The man lasted a grand total of five seconds before he broke.

“FUHUHUCK YOUHUHUHU!” The villain thrashed and tugged on his arms, trying to get free of his boyfriend’s evil grip. He was really regretting wearing such a thin shirt…

“We could’ve just cuddled when I got home, but noooo. Someone had to be a little asshole and scare me.” Hawks didn’t stop the scolding as he tickled him, leaning in so the ravenette could hear him over his own laughter. “You brought this on yourself.”

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!” His taunt stomach quivered as he laughed, sure to be sore later during training. He really didn’t have a good comeback for the man; he wasn’t wrong, but there was no way Dabi was gonna admit it.

“No thanks. You learn best when you’re forced to.”

A thought popped into Hawks’s mind, making him smirk. Teaching him was a good idea, actually. He lifted his hand from the man’s stomach, instead sending two feathers to trace along his collarbones. Dabi’s unruly laughter slowly died down to airy giggles at the tactic change, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m gonna ask you some questions, babe. Try not to get them wrong.” Hawks flexed his fingers menacingly before speaking again, the feathers never stopping their gentle teasing. “Is it okay to steal from someone, even if they’re being a dick?”

“I-ihihin the rihight cihircumstahance, yeheah.” Dabi answered with his honest opinion, knowing it would piss the bird boy off. He was digging his own grave, but he was doing it with style. At least, he felt like he was.

“Bzzzt! Wrong, jackass. The correct answer was ‘No, beautiful, it’s not.’” Hawks dug his fingers back in as he made the buzzer noise, giving Dabi’s navel a good knead.

“C-COHOHOCKY BAHASTAHARD!” Dabi arched his back off the bed, though he was quickly pushed back down by Hawks’s elbow. He really wasn’t playing around…

After a nice two-minute penalty, Hawks tried asking a different question. “Let’s try this one. Is it okay to scare the living daylights out of our boyfriends who take down bad guys for a living?”

Dabi bit his lip as he giggled, panting slightly. It would be in his best interest to answer wisely, but… Well, Hawks didn’t lose control often. He wanted to see what would happen if he pushed that little bit too far.

“Hehell yeah. Ehespecially whehen thehey’re adohohorable lihittle chihicken- GYAAAAHAHAHA!”

The smug retort was cut off by a loud and ridiculous sound. Hawks blew a raspberry – a fucking raspberry – on his navel, nearly sending the burnt man into silent laughter. Curse his damn sensitivity!

Just to really make sure the lesson made it through his boyfriend’s thick head, Hawks blew a few more little ones across his stomach. By the time he was done, the unburned crests of Dabi’s cheeks were practically glowing with a blush, his eyes half-lidded. Hawks thought it was beautiful, taking a mental snapshot.

“One more chance.” The feathers resumed their tracing, swooping across the spent man’s collarbones once again. The sleepy giggles nearly made Hawks melt, but he held strong. “Was it a good idea to scare me like that, especially when you had to steal to do it?”

“N-nohohoho…” Dabi’s resolve had been thoroughly broken, his weary body lying still as the feather grazed across his skin. It was actually sort of relaxing, the soft compared to the rough.

“There ya go. Good job,” Hawks cooed, petting his exhausted boyfriend’s head as he settled down. If he were fully awake, Dabi would no doubt be taking his revenge; he wasn’t, though, his clingy side showing with the grogginess.

Dabi wrapped his arms loosely around Hawks as the man lied down, nuzzling his face into his soft hair. It smelled faintly of his vanilla shampoo, though he was much too tired to tease him about the scent. Instead, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of his lover seep into his bones. A moment later, he felt Hawks’s wings extend, draping over them like a weighted blanket. So tired…

“Love you, KFC…”

“Love you too, you burnt chicken nuggie.”

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O bought a Roomba,

taped a knife to it,

gave it a name tag with the name ‘Mr Stabby’,

and set it loose.

(main boys, please)

Love your stories!

Undertale Sans - One day you don't find your Roomba and discover Sans took it for a walk only to get a reaction out of the people in the street. He can't get over Mr Stabby. It's his new pet and his best friend.

Undertale Papyrus - He adds googly eyes on the Roomba so it looks even more ridiculous doing its task. It makes his brain happy to watch it clean the house while carrying its little knife. And it prevents him from doing chores he doesn't want to do. His ADHD is satisfied.

Underswap Sans - He's not sure what to think of Mr Stabby. First of all, he never saw a Roomba before and it scared the hell out of him the first time he saw it. But now? Now this poor thing looks ridiculous. It's small with a knife bigger than him. Who is it going to scare? If you wanted a guard dog... Adopt a guard dog???

Underswap Papyrus - He replaces the knife with a flower every time he sees it and now it's a daily battle between you two over Mr Stabby or Mr Flower. Come on, the Roomba is clearly cuter with a little flower, why would you tape a knife on it? The battle became so intense you're both using super strong tape to discourage the other now.

Underfell Sans - The thing is staring at him. Menacingly. Red hates it. Somehow, the Roomba cornered him and now he's shooting distressed glances towards his S/O. Help? The hell is this thing? He doesn't want it inside his house, get rid of it! He's going to have quite a few jumpscares in the next few days. He really doesn't like it.

Underfell Papyrus - He calls it Hellbringer. Now he has two weapons of massive destruction by his side. You cringe as he starts to laugh maniacally like an epic villain, carrying both his cat and the Roomba above his head. Ok....

Horrortale Sans - He's in a corner, growling at the Roomba. The thing surprised him while he was napping and now he distrusts it completely. Still, the Roomba refuses to hear his warning and comes closer. So Oak picks up the Roomba and explodes it in the wall lol. Rip Roomba.

Horrortale Papyrus - He didn't pay attention and accidentally walked on the Roomba... And on the knife. Now he's looking at you with sad offended eyes. You did that to him, feel guilty now! He's too tall to always watch where his feet are going!

Swapfell Sans - He refuses to get down the couch. This is witchcraft. He didn't touch the Roomba and it still activated on its own. This is some supernatural shit. Every time the Roomba gets close, he hisses angrily and tries to jump higher on the couch out of fear the thing will attack him. It's not funny! You still wonder how that coward is somehow the general of the royal guard.

Swapfell Papyrus - It's hilarious! He quickly understands the power of the Roomba on his brother and he keeps using it to traumatize him. His favorite thing is to hide it under Nox's bed, waiting for his brother to come in, and then activate it just to hear Nox's screams of panic as he tries to escape the evil robot. He will never get tired of this. His dream is to send Evil Roomba on live TV during a meeting with Toriel to see his brother freak out and the Queen completely panic over the reaction of her main counselor.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's not impressed. He simply glares at you in a silent "Are you serious?" way. This thing looks ridiculous. The next day, he tells you he fix it. Mr Stabby is now covered with barbed wire and has a chainsaw. He even added an autodestruction device so he could explode in the face of the enemy. Uh. You're not sure about that feature honestly.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He met Mr Stabby for ten seconds but if something happens to him, he's going to kill everyone in the room and then himself. He insists Mr Stabby sleeps with you two in bed as it's obvious it's your adopted child. You never knew the Roomba was that big before you had to sleep with it. Coffee is very happy though.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Thomas, Engineer

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sparks burst upwards into the goggles Thomas was wearing, the plasma cutter in his hand burning at several hundred degrees, focused to an incredibly fine point. Holding it in his work gloves was awkward at best, but years of practice had made him exceptional at his job. Sixer and Mace might’ve been better at the finer detail work, Padrino had incredible dexterity after all, but making custom tools was well within his wheel house too.

The two bot brothers had asked him to make a special kind of nano wrench while they ran a ‘memory sweeper’ program through his old translator, the one that had caught that rogue signal all those cycles ago. The group had been working on it in their off time between maintenance requests, and they were finally just steps away from the answers they were looking for. All they needed now was to strip the memory code out of the device, and for that they needed itty bitty tiny nanoscopic tools; ergo, while the twins worked their programs, Thomas got to work making the things they’d need.

He was almost done too, when the comm-link trilled. A patch job in the security chief’s office, apparently one of the terminals was unresponsive and the door was getting jammed up on something. Personal projects would have to wait.

“Roomba, we got a job. You coming with or hanging out here?”

[Statement: you operate at greater efficiency when this unit is present]

“That’s right buddy, but I’m asking what you wanna do,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Statement: I would like to assist please]

“Thanks Roomba, I appreciate that.” Thomas held his arm out and the little droid climbed up to his usual perch on the man’s shoulder. “Look at you, making decisions for yourself. Good for you bud!”

Thomas adored the little robot, and as Roomba got smarter, that feeling only grew. Every day the small cleaning drone was getting more clever, his AI evolving ever further, thanks to the upgrades from Sixer and Mace. Pretty soon Roomba would be as smart as Thomas was.

Maybe I’ll teach him how to play virtual chess, he thought. Or I’ll build him a little controller and we can split screen a blaster battle game or something!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two made their way through the ship, waving and saying hello to the many people who stopped Thomas to look at the small robot on his shoulder. At this point in their mission, it was common knowledge that one of the humans had made a cleaning drone their ‘pet’, although Thomas was trying to make it clear that wasn’t the case. Roomba was his own person, he just so happened to have very little legs and it was faster to just catch a ride on his human companion. It probably didn’t help that outside himself and the Padrino, nobody else had the hardware to understand what Roomba was saying, so all they ever heard was Beep.

They made it up to the command deck and knocked on the door to the Chief’s office. It opened halfway before getting stuck, hidden gears grinding, and there was the Chief, leaning on his desk with a data pad in his hand. Thomas figured Chief Ducane was kinda cute, what with his scruffy yet trimmed beard and his various tattoos, but macho wasn’t really his thing on guys. That being said, he could see why some on the crew were whispering about him, the man was built. Thomas tried getting his attention through the crack.

“Reporting Chief, you sent a maintenance request?” Thomas said through the gap in the door.

“Yeah, I did,” Chief Ducane looked up. “Oh right, you’re Thomas right? I don’t remember if I’ve introduced myself yet, I’m Danny Ducane. You’re the guy with the domesticated maintenance droid, right?” The Chief got up to the door and pulled it open himself, the hydraulics groaning as it slid open the rest of the way.

“He’s not…” Thomas started, annoyed, but took a beat. Don’t antagonize the guy who can pull apart the doors. “This is Roomba, he has an adaptive learning AI now, like the Padrino on the crew. He’s not a pet.”

Roomba looked up when Thomas said his name and trilled angrily at the idea of being equated to a house cat.

“Beep.”

[Statement: Please inform the other human that I am not domesticated in any way, and would prefer that not get said again]

“He said you’re being rude,” Thomas explained.

“Beep.”

[Sufficiently put]

Chief Ducane looked at the two of them for a moment before raising his hands in defeat.

“Okay, fair enough, that was a dick move on my part. Sorry little guy, didn’t know you were one of the clever bots.”

Thomas nudged his tool bag with his foot, and the Chief took the message.

“Right, my control console is fritzing out,” Ducane said, shuffling awkwardly towards his desk. “The screen blurs every couple minutes, and the door got stuck this morning, don’t know what that’s about either.” The chief stood there, gesturing to his desk with one hand, the other fumbling to put the data pad down where Thomas suspected he thought he wouldn’t be able to see it. It occurred to him that Chief Ducane might not be the most technologically savvy, considering you could read a data pad from either side, and the exact same script was frozen on his console screen. It looked like a checklist of sorts, but Thomas wasn’t here to snoop classified documents. Unless it’d be funny, then maybe.

“Right,” Thomas said, eyeing the chief, “it’s probably just an electrical short, a little leftover from that solar flare the other day. I’ll have to strip some wiring but it’s a quick fix. Though the door might have to be taken out so I can get into the motors.”

“And how long will that take?” Ducane asked.

“Maybe an hour? Maybe more?” Thomas shrugged. “Takes as long as it takes for me to get in there.”

Thomas looked at him a moment, standing there with his hands on his sides. He could hear Roomba’s mechanical innards ticking and whirring as the little bot held onto his perch on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Guess I should let you get to it then,” Chief Ducane said, clapping his hands and heading for the door, but he stopped before he left, like he’d just remembered he’d left the stove on or some such.

“Hey, just a quick question,” he said, turning back to face Thomas. The chief’s hands were fidgeting, hooking and unhooking his thumbs into his pockets. “Are you acquainted with the Sed engineers? Kor and Taren?”

Thomas thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Sure, I’ve seen them around. Why?”

“They ever seem real busy for unknown reasons?”

“Honestly? Like you want my work appropriate answer or my actual opinion?”

“Both.”

“Well my work appropriate answer is sure, they seem good at their jobs, usually off together on requests.”

“And your personal opinions?” Chief Ducane pressed, crossing his arms and shifting to stand in the doorway, as if he was keeping Thomas sequestered until he got answers to his odd line of questions. Thomas didn’t need to ponder the question that long.

“Honestly? Honestly they kinda suck,” He blurted out, a little more venomously than he’d intended. “Like, okay, don’t get me wrong, you ask them questions and they give the right answers, they know how things work and they know the right tool for the jobs, but work wise? Half the time nobody can find them. I’ve had three repair jobs handed over to me in the last two weeks ‘cause they’re off somewhere fooling around.”

“Fooling around?” Ducane intoned, “as in…?”

“Well we just kinda assumed they were an item. And look, we’re sympathetic, but the work load is insane on a ship this size with this many conflicting requirements. Temperature differences for different races, atmospheric controls bottoming out, I got a guy with four arms for a boss and even he thinks it’s ridiculous how often stuff around here breaks.”

“So you all just assumed they were off somewhere… doing that, while you all just put up with it? Has anyone seen them like this?” Chief Ducane pushed.

“Roomba did,” Thomas said, tilting his head the little droid’s direction, “while we were doing repairs in the air ducts a couple cycles ago.”

“Beep.”

[Please do not disclose this information]

“Huh?” Thomas put the little droid in his palm and let him stand for himself. “What’s up buddy?”

“What’s he saying?” The chief asked, shifting focus from Thomas to Roomba and back again.

“Beep.”

[Disclosure of this information will bring my work efficiency into question]

Ohhhhhhh, Thomas thought.

“He’s just saying how weird what he saw was,” Thomas shiftily explained, patting the little droid on the head. “We were working some repairs in the ducts when Roomba saw Taren in another part of the ship through the grating. He was on a comm-link and Kor showed up with a thing Roomba didn’t recognize, but from what he told me it was some hand tool I think.”

“So maybe they were just on another job and not screwing around?” Ducane questioned.

“Nah, couldn’t be, I was supposed to be the only repair guy in that part of the ship at the time. Everyone else is still supposed to be in the core room making repairs after that solar flare.”

Thomas took a deep breath and looked Ducane in the eye.

“Chief, be straight with me, is something going on on my ship?”

“What do you mean your ship?” Ducane scoffed.

“Trust me, this ship has already gotten enough of my blood, sweat, and tears man. I probably love her more than anyone else on this boat, so yeah, she’s my ship.” Thomas was getting a tad red in the face as he said this, which was fair, as it was slightly embarrassing to voice this odd idea of his. “Look man, this ship might be just a job to you, but it’s not just that to me, okay? So if there’s something happening here that could hurt her, I’m not gonna let that happen.”

How odd that a simple maintenance request could have such an impact on his day?

Roomba reach up and tugged on Thomas’s earlobe.

“Beep.”

[New Task Uploaded: protect Noah. Confirm?]

“That’s right Roomba, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Thomas said, weirdly amped up now. Chief Ducane stood there looking at him incredulously.

“Is every kid in the galaxy just ready to ride shotgun off to war these days? I swear, you younger guys need to do something more productive and fun with all that extra energy you have.”

“Shove it… respectfully, Chief.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have anything concrete that something is happening, not that I could tell you if I did.” Ducane shrugged and crossed his arms again, leaning against the wall. The data pad behind them on the desk trilled, a new file had been sent to it, and before the tones had silenced themselves, Thomas felt as if his neurons had just taken a bolt of electricity across his frontal lobe. He turned back to face the Security Chief with a dread look tacked onto his face.

“Hypothetically, Chief, if somebody had possibly intercepted a weird transmission while outside the broadcast shields, how important would that be?”

Chief Ducane stared at him a moment, then clasped his hands together in front of his mouth before sighing uncomfortably hard.

“I’d say that’d be pretty important, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I thought you were supposed to be smart!” Danny half accused, walking quickly down the hall away from the lift.

“Man, I’m like actually a genius, I have four degrees, but nobody ever accused me of being smart,” Thomas said, shrugging. “I didn’t want to get kicked off the ship if it was nothing, which it probably is!”

“You wouldn’t have gotten kicked off the ship. If I can’t even get rid of Grite, you’re as safe as can be.”

“Oh, okay,” Thomas said sarcastically, “then I totally should’ve spilled it when, while on a space walk, my somewhat illegally jailbroke translator picked up a rogue signal on the long range communications array for the ship I just got a job on. I’ve seen people canned for less, I could’ve been tried for espionage or something.”

“You did what?”

Thomas and Danny turned on theirs heels to see Odis the Galley standing in the doorway they’d just passed, a ‘coffee’ mug in hand. It had a cartoonish drawing of a purple cow on it.

“Oh good, we’re just telling the whole ship now, I guess,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m definitely getting fired.”

“Wait wait wait, Odis is cool,” Thomas vouched. “He’s a real stand up guy.”

“What did you do now humie?” Odis groaned, downing whatever was in his mug before sprinting to join them. His shorter legs had to move twice as fast to keep up with the taller humans.

“So you know that project the twins and I have been working on?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been using your off hours for something that’s not video games, of course I noticed.”

“Fired…,” Danny moaned. “Court marshalled even.”

“Quiet big human, the smart human is talking.”

“Oh no, we’ve established that word doesn’t apply to me.”

“Beep.”

[Thank you for not telling the human I fell down the air ducts]

It was a wonder how the entire ship didn’t know what they were doing by then, seeing as they were not exactly discreet as they headed down to the maintenance decks. When the group of them finally made the locker room, more than one set of eyes was watching them, though it was mostly Chief Ducane they were looking at. It wasn’t exactly normal operating procedures for the Chief of Security to walk into their locker room.

“How is it that you humans are always up to something ridiculous?” Odis asked, shaking his bulbous gray head. “I mean, as a Galley, I’m actually impressed with the level of… what’s a good human word for this nonsense?”

“Shenanigans?” Thomas offered.

“Ridiculous words, ridiculous people…,” Odis laughed. “The cows are cool, but the rest of your world is just a mess of weird, huh?”

The humans didn’t respond, though given any thought, they couldn’t have refuted the Galley anyway.

Sixer and Mace stood at their work table, the terminal screen running thousands of lines of code a second. Thomas would’ve loved to comb through it given the chance, but now wasn’t the time.

“Twins!” he called over, “Got it up and going?”

“Almost, Human Thomas,” Sixer replied.

“Hello, Security Chief Ducane,” Mace greeted.

“Yeah, hi guys,” Danny said. “I hear you all have been working a little side project?”

The two Padrino turned to each other and each gave a quick burst of machine speak before turning back to face them.

“Human Thomas, do you believe it is time to inform the ship’s command structure of our findings?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Thomas nodded.

“Good, because we have finished preparations. We simply need the tool you made up and to see if the sweeper program retrieves any data.”

Thomas patted down his coveralls before fishing the nano-wrench from his inner pocket. He handed the tool to Sixer, who turned back to the table and made the final adjustments.

“Moment of truth, I guess,” he said.

“You realize I’m going to be extremely pissed if you got me down here and all worked up for nothing,” Danny said pointedly.

“Understood… sir,” Thomas swallowed hard.

The computer ran its program, thousands, hundreds of thousands of lines of code fluttering across the screen, the Padrino’s speed was impressive to say the least. They definitely had to teach him that sometime.

After a minute of them staring at the terminal in silence, the screen showed a resounding-

“Nothing?” Thomas and Danny said in unison.

“Correct,” Sixer said.

“Unfortunately,” continued Mace, “the translators are not equipped with enough memory storage to log something the size of a communications transmission.”

“So we’ve got nothing?” Thomas said, hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t know what he wanted the signal to be, but nothing was… incredibly unsatisfying, to say the least.

“Did you try to see recipient data?” Odis asked, eyeing the console code.

“What?” Thomas turned to him, confusion distorting the disappointment on his face.

“With the long range array, it’s got recipient data built into the message, so the thing knows who it’s going to,” Odis explained slowly. “Back in the day, we Galley used to strip data out of long range messages to find new planets to… interact with. It’s how we found the humies first, caught all those messages you kept throwing out into space.” Odis rifled through one of his side pockets and brought out something that looked like a key fob with a port on one end. He popped open a panel in the terminal and plugged it in, hitting a couple keys to sync the programs together. Thomas watched, confusion and disappointment morphing into a cautious optimism. Maybe they’d find something after all.

“And here… we… go!” Odis said smugly, triumphantly hitting the execute key. The screen rolled the code again, but this time information began loading, the computer compiling the data for them.

“And you just happen to have this… why?” Danny looked sternly in the Galley’s direction.

“If it makes you feel any better Chief, most of my free time has been spent with the kid playing Terran video games,” Odis snickered. “Don’t worry about what I’ve been up to, worry about whoever is sending messages to the GAIL High Council.”

“What the hell?” Danny exclaimed, leaning over the console to examine the data.

Sure enough, they couldn’t recover any of the message, the data was just too big for the little device to have caught any. However, Odis’s tracer did show that whatever the signal was, it had gone straight to someone by the name of Mons on the High Council of the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms.

“Chief, what the hell are we looking at?” Thomas asked, for the first time actually realizing that something could be deeply, darkly wrong on the ship.

“This doesn’t make any sense, communications can’t go directly to the Council, not without going through Captain Skitch and me,” Danny kept looking at the screen, rereading the data from start to finish, over and over again, before pulling out his data pad and copying all of it down, taking photos too.

“What are you doing?” Sixer asked.

“Making sure whatever we have here, there’s multiple copies so we can’t lose any proof later.”

“Do you suspect there’s another agenda aboard this ship Chief Ducane?” Mace followed.

“… I sincerely hope not, but either way, none of this ever happened. Not a single one of you saw any of this, okay? Nothing and no one,” Danny looked at each of them in turn, making sure they understood his meaning, “is going to hear about any of this. And when I call any of you to my office, it’s double time, understood?”

“You got it Chief,” Thomas said immediately, the others following suit, but with much less gusto.

“Beep.”

[Task: protect Noah in progress]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The work shift ended with no more excitement, however Thomas’s heart rate hadn’t declined even a bit in the following hours. The idea that something could threaten the ship, his ship, the ship he’d almost died for already, filled him with some very mixed emotions, not the least of which was apprehension. It did reassure him that Chief Ducane seemed like a good guy, and that he wasn’t going to take any disciplinary measures against the worker crew for anything, but the idea that they could be called on to actually do something was daunting.

Walking to the mess hall, Thomas realized he’d never actually made any of the requested repairs to Danny office. He pulled a comm-link out of his back pocket and sent a quick “sorry, I’ll be right there to fix the door” text, but was alarmed at what the Chief of Security replied almost instantly.

>Someone searched my office while cameras were out of commission. Nothing is missing. They took advantage of the door being jammed and unlocked<

Another message:

>Don’t come up here, it’ll look suspicious for the both of us. I’ll make another request tomorrow. Tell your friends to be careful, and come to me immediately if you see anything at all<

Thomas shakily put the comm-link back in his pocket and headed back towards the Vending Machines. He saw Odis sitting in the corner and joined him after getting his food.

“You ever think someone in the GAIL could do something pretty bad?”

“What, you think you humans have a monopoly on being kind of shitty?” Odis snorted. “You’re not that weird, you know.”

[roosterbruiser]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"So, what now?" You ask.

You're laying beside Jake, fingering the sheets that he has on his surprisingly comfortable bed. The sheets are nice, like really nice. Before, you would've never wondered about if he had nice sheets or not. But now that you know that he does, now that you know that he probably knows the difference between Egyptian cotton and linen and knows what thread-counts are, you think that it fits him. Of course he knows these things--he cares. Even if he pretends like he doesn't, he does. And as you've teased him about before--mainly during his movie theater snack choices of gray goose shooters and expensive beef jerky--he's kind of got bougie taste. Like all his posters are framed, he invests in velvet hangers, he has a Roomba, and he has a bidet in every bathroom in his house.

You like that about him, honestly. You like that he's so put together. You like that he lives alone, but still takes care of his things without the insistence of someone else. You like that he likes to cook and honestly makes some of the best steak you've ever had--which you did tell him and yes, it did go straight to his head.

"Give me about ten minutes and I'll be ready to rumble again," Jake teases, his fingers lazily drawing stars on the naked skin of your arm.

He sighs contentedly, a grin biting his lips when your tired laughter rings out in his bedroom. It's a sound he's grown to really, really like. And he can't help but think that it only sounds natural in this bedroom, a sweet song that could get lost between wrinkles of bedsheets and under the mahogany armoir. He isn't sure what it means that he's thinking this--surely it has something to do with the quickening of his pulse when he sees you or the glances he keeps stealing around base.

But right now, he doesn't have it in him to dissect his peculiar feelings. He just wants to lay here with you.

"Yeah, that's definitely what I meant," you sigh back, chuckling.

Not that you would necessarily mind another round, though.

Your fingers are still in his hair, albeit your grip is much softer now that he isn't throwing you into an orgasm. You're just very softly combing through his locks, scratching the clean skin of his scalp, inhaling that nice shampoo he uses.

Jake is smiling tiredly as he blinks at his ceiling fan, his arm firmly holding your naked body against his. He's tired--those Stellas are catching up with him--but he's happy. He's like really, really happy. Happier than he ever thought he could be around Wisteria Kazansky.

He thinks he knows what you're really asking. What happens between the two of you now? How do you go forward? Are you friends with benefits? Are you lovers? Are you something else entirely? He's wondering the same thing--especially since the sex tonight felt monumentally more intimate than the first time.

Honestly, it's the most intimate sex Jake can remember having in a long time. He had brought you to another orgasm with his cock buried to the hilt and his fingers circling your clit with an expert precision. His forehead pressed against yours as you repeated his name like a chant: Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake, Jake. You were very warm and soft beneath him, body ebbing where his was flowing and nipples pert against his skin. He had felt every moment of your orgasm, the warmest part of you wrapped around the hardest part of him, and had watched the lovely way your mouth parted and your eyes squeezed shut.

"So pretty when you cum, baby," he had whispered to you, continuing in the slow and steady pace that had brought you there, crashing his hips against yours. He pet your cheeks, felt the flush beneath his fingers, and kissed your face very wetly. "Love making you cum."

The sex was probably the best you'd ever had. Like you told Jake, you'd known some monsters. You'd known your fair share of men who didn't deem your orgasms necessary. And now you've fucked Jake Seresin--who you previously thought was worse than all those other monsters combined--once and had sex with him once and finished both times.

The orgasms that flooded you this time were unlike anything else you'd felt with other people--not only that, but you had given Jake more than you'd ever given anyone else. Even if any of the other people were as skilled or as precise or as in-tune as Jake, you wouldn't have been able to let go the way you did with Jake. There was something about his hand holding the middle of your chest, keeping you down, keeping you safe that made it easy to let go. There was something about his pink lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your face and whispering that he loved making you cum that allowed that orgasm to wash over you.

"I have it in me to go again," Jake breathes, pulling your body closer to his and suppressing the groan that threatens him when he feels your bare skin pressing into his. "Think you can keep up?"

You grin, stretching your neck and laughing softly. When he presses a few lazy kisses to the crown of your head, you pretend like it doesn't ignite a little ember of adoration in your chest.

"Can't you let a lady rest?" You whisper, nuzzling your nose into his chest. You inhale softly, trying not to let your eyes water when his hand comes up to hold the back of your head, when his fingers tangle themselves in your hair.

"Sure I can," Jake sighs, basking in the warmth of your lips against his chest. "Know any?"

You are laughing, the both of you, a laughter that rumbles both of your chests. If he'd have said this to you a couple months ago, you'd have had the urge to claw his cheeks. But now the two of you can laugh at it--he's teasing you. He's chiding. And it feels good--comfortable.

When a silence settles over the two of you again, he's itching to ask you what happened that made you come here tonight. He wants to ask how your dad is and if the hospice nurses have given you any updates. He wants to ask you if your fucking Aunt Lisa said something again because he swears to God, he's gonna have a talk with her himself if she doesn't knock it off. He wants to ask you if you need anything, because he really would give you what you need: another round, a bottle of tequila, a night out of town.

The words are practically clawing at his mouth now, begging to be let out. And just as he starts to open his mouth, just as he starts to ask you what he can do for you, you smile up at him. He loves that smile; it's wide and bright, even when your eyes are swollen with exhaustion or tears. He can't help but swipe his index finger along your cheek, can't help but let his heart squeeze when you lean into his chest.

"You hungry?" You ask.

He's not that hungry--but how could he say no to you when you're leaning into his touch, biting your lip, blinking up at him so pretty?

"Yes," he answers. "What'd you have in mind?"

It must be well past two in the morning now, hours after you showed up at his door. Before you came, you felt like you were drowning in IV stands and extended cousins and rubber gloves and tears and casseroles. That was why you'd come to Jake's: you just wanted to stop feeling like your dad is dying, even if only for a little while.

You never would've pictured yourself sitting on Jake Seresin's very nice sheets in his very clean bedroom, wearing one of his old Navy sweatshirts and nothing else, eating a greasy pizza while some terrible horror movie plays on the TV. Not only would you never have pictured yourself here, especially not cuddled up beside Jake with the pizza box open over his legs, but you never would've imagined that you would be happy as you are right now.

Things just feel easy right now. The pizza is almost explicitly cheesy, the movie has more pairs of tits than jump-scares, and you don't want to go home. Like, you really don't want to go back home at all. Even though you're tired right now, even though you know that you really should drive home before it gets too late, you don't want to.

"How's the 'za?" Jake asks, watching with a fond smile as you devour a third piece.

"Incredible," you mumble, your mouth full and your eyes drooping. "Didn't know that you're the kinda guy that calls pizza 'za."

Jake laughs--so do you.

"I don't," he admits, which is true, laughing. "I don't know why I said that."

"Maybe I've bewitched you," you tease with a sigh.

"Lucky me," he breathes.

Something twitches in your chest when he says it. This is all getting dangerously close to a crush--you can feel it happening. This is the way you feel whenever you're about to start liking someone. The feeling is something you've had sparsely and you feel like you have to dust it off, but it's there. It's definitely there.

Jake feels it, too--he just isn't quite sure what to call it yet.

You don't say anything. You feel too giddy suddenly to say anything. And it's good, too, because Jake's fondly peering at you with a smile tugging at his lips--which he keeps doing.

"Want something to drink?" He asks.

You nod, yawning.

He's only gone for a few minutes. The horror movie is droning on and the pizza is sitting hot and heavy in your gut. You can't help but feel the utter domesticity of this night: you and him, greasy food, bad movies, comfortable bed. You've grown so close over the past two months, closer in a way no one on base knows about yet, and it's been sweet. It's still throwing you for a loop--just how easy it is to be around him, how easy it is to fall into this.

Downstairs, while grabbing two lemon-lime Gatorades from the fridge, Jake is thinking the same thing. This has all been so very easy. He's not someone that's regularly fallen into the position of boyfriend and he isn't precisely sure what it would look or feel like for the both of you--but he feels very affectionate towards you right now. He is almost certain you're going to spend the night and the prospect of that alone fills him with great excitement. He's excited that you're going to be there when he wakes up and that the two of you might have sex again. But he's also just excited to know if you like to sleep on your back or your belly; if you snore; how you like your eggs; if you prefer tea or coffee.

He's elated because he knows, deep down, that you're using him as some sort of release. Not using him in a big, bad way--no, maybe using isn't even the right word. You're just finding some sort of...peace in him and his house and his body. And he's okay with that, really, he's glad that you are.

So maybe this is what it feels like to be your boyfriend. He could get used to this. And it wouldn't take long at all.

"Lemon-lime?" You ask softly when he comes back into the room, sweatpants very low on his hips.

He's grinning, his hair messy and his eyes shining in the dim glow of the TV. You're sitting on the bed, pizza box on the floor, blankets pulled up to your chin. You look cute--it makes his heart squeeze.

"Only the best for my guest," he says, placing the bottle in your hands.

You hold it, inspecting it carefully. It's cold. You know that he must've grabbed it from the fridge downstairs. But it is mildly perplexing to you because you've never seen him drink one unless he's splitting it with you. But here it is now, stocked in his fridge apparently.

"You're a lemon-lime guy, then?" You ask, trying to sound casual, as he resumes his position beside you.

His arm is around you again and his body is radiating a sweet heat, one that makes you want to take his sweatshirt off your body. You lay against his chest and he makes a sound, one between a sigh and a hum.

"No," he answers honestly. His heart is sitting in his throat now and his pulse has quickened. He wonders if this is too much--if he's being too honest. "More of a Cool Blue guy."

You blink up at him, the bottle bated at your lips. He's staring straight ahead, at the TV, and there is just the slightest bit of pink on his cheeks.

You're confused. You even almost open your mouth to ask him why he seems to have an unlimited supply of lemon-lime then. But just as the words touch the back of your teeth, it clicks.

Oh.

It's for you.

That's why he always has it.

And then it dawns on you that he must keep your morning Gatorades at his house--he doesn't get them from the vending machines at all. He buys them at the store, takes up room in his fridge, and remembers to grab one for you every morning. That isn't the Jake you knew a couple months ago, the one that called you nepotism baby and told you that you had it easy. This is the Jake you know how--the one who will let you eat in his bed and make you cum twice.

There's an overwhelming urge in your gut to jump his bones. You want to straddle him and ease him into you and ride him nice and slow and look into his aspen eyes and let your body cum again beneath his fingers.

But instead, you just hold the back of his head, tangle your fingers in his hair. And he looks over at you finally, his face awash with a sleep-tinted happiness. He smiles at you, hums softly whenever you scratch his head. And then you lean in--very slowly, very carefully, leaving him ample time to retreat. But he doesn't retreat; he meets you halfway, cups your cheek, presses his lips against yours.

This kiss conveys something neither of you are brave enough to say. It is a soft and long kiss, one that is wet and kind. It is not desperate and it is not trying to propel your intimacy in any other capacity. It's just a kiss. The sole purpose of it is to just press your lips together.

That's what you both need.

When you pull away, breathing hard, Jake can taste the citrus on your tongue. He rests his forehead against yours, strokes your cheek softly with his calloused thumb.

"What was that for?" Jake whispers, a smile tugging at his lips.

He swipes a drop of Gatorade from your bottom lip the way he wanted to in the pharmacy parking lot when you were both drenched in neon light as Joni Mitchell crooned.

"I just really like lemon-lime Gatorade," you whisper back.

You both laugh--quiet and ardent little tufts of air.

You don't have to say it and he doesn't have to hear it. You both know--you both understand. Things are different now. They're going to keep being different now.

And that doesn't scare you. And it doesn't scare him, either.

So that very Monday, when you let Jake pick you up from your family's home, you can't feel anything except excited. It's an excitement that you can feel in your bones, one that settled there over the weekend that you two spent together.

Things in your life are complicated right now--and downright gloomy. But this--riding into work when it's still dark, holding hands over the center console, fiddling with the radio and settling it on an oldies station--this doesn't feel complicated or gloomy.

As soon as the two of you pull into a parking spot, you're spotted. Rooster and Phoenix spot you seemingly from a mile away--squinting and blinking rapidly to make sure they're seeing what they see.

"No fucking way," Phoenix whispers to Rooster, brushing her hair over her shoulder and putting her hands on her hips. "No way!"

"Well, I'll be," Rooster mumbles back to her, watching as Jake opens your car door and takes your hand as you hop down. Jake is grinning--so are you, even if yours is a more tentative grin. "That's not something you see everyday, is it?"

Phoenix nods dumbly, her lips parted in shock.

"Oh, fuck them," Rooster adds whenever Jake carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and pats your cheek. It's the most tender he's ever seen Jake do anything ever--and he's seen Jake hold a newborn baby. "PDA already?"

In your slight defense--neither you or Jake had spotted Rooster and Phoenix by their cars on account of it being so dark outside. And the two of you weren't actively looking for spotters. Plus you're just happy--blindingly, seriously happy.

"I can't wait to tell Floyd," she whispers, a smile tugging at her lips.

Bob has been telling her since interrupting yours and Jake's little tiff on the tarmac that there's something going on between the two of you. Phoenix disbelieved him entirely at first--until you started sitting beside Hangman every morning at briefings. Then she was a little curious. Then you started inviting Hangman to things, like really every thing. Then she was suspicious. Fanboy claimed to have seen the two of you out at the movies a while ago, but no one believed him entirely.

But now Phoenix feels like she's witnessing history. Wisteria Kazansky and Jake Seresin are bumping shoulders and acting chummy as can be as they walk into base together.

"Weirdly, they're kind of like...not a bad looking couple?" Rooster says, his eyebrows knit.

Phoenix nods immediately.

"Hope he knows to keep himself in check," Phoenix mutters, adjusting her backpack as her and Rooster start for the building. "Cause Wisty's got an entire army behind her if he fucks this up."

Just as the two of you enter the building, a gust of cool air conditioning goosing your skin, Jake reaches down and takes your hand. He squeezes it softly, smiling down at you. You smile back, squeeze him.

And for the first time in two months, you feel like you can breathe.

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐈𝐭

actual image of me writing this for you guys!! your response on this series has been nothing short of gorgeous!! thank you all so much!!

I think I am officially making this a series?!!?!!!! what do we think about that, how do we feel???? anything you want to see specifically??

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

tags:

@avaleineandafryingpaningpan

@popsycles

@thedronerangerger

@guacala

@top-hhunn

@hotch-meeeeeuppppppppp

@oliviah-255

@zalmael

@chicomonks

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Inej: Why do you have a roomba with crystals and incense roaming around?

Jesper: *Startled* How did yo- never mind… Wylan is cleaning, he says its for bad energy as well as lint

Inej: I see

Kaz: *Walks in* Whats that horrible smell? Its burning my eyes

[thehmn]

Just some follow up thoughts/responses on my last post.

When I say I’m a cleaner people on the internet often feel like they have to be nice about it but it’s okay. I know it’s seen as demeaning low-paying work in a lot of countries but here in Denmark it’s considered a proper respectable job that pays pretty well. I’m paid way more than people who answer phones at call centers (like when you buy a ticket over the phone) and only slightly less than my sister’s job as a journalist despite her getting a fancy degree. I’m only balancing on the poverty line because my ADHD is keeping me from working full time, but at the same time cleaning is perfect for me. I get to move around a bunch and I don’t work the same place every day.

And the pandemic really made people understand the value of cleaners. At the start of the pandemic most businesses didn’t feel safe having someone like me visit them because I visit a bunch of places and is around strangers all the time. They thought “Yeah it’s not going to be as nice as usual but surely we can swipe our own floors” That lasted all of one month before they changed their minds. People are messy (especially with coffee) so keeping a workplace clean requires dedicated time. Also, so far I haven’t had Covid once because, you know, even cleaners like to stay clean.

Trust me, if you’ve ever had the thought “Oh well, gives the cleaner something to do. It’s their job anyway” after spilling something you might as well start being rude to waiters and cashiers too. We have plenty to do even if nobody ever spilled anything. Do you think the dust just blows away? Or alternatively, have you been wondering why your workplace is so dusty? Might it have something to do with the coffee stains on the wall that keep disappearing? Cleaners aren’t talked about a lot in conversations about treating essential workers better because we usually show up after you go home but that doesn’t make it any less rude.

And talking about essential workers, remember that list that made the rounds on the internet during the pandemic of what jobs should be considered essential and non-essential and how people got really up in arms about artists being on the non-essential side? As someone who literally got half my pay from cleaning and the other half from working as an artist at the time, my job as a cleaner was a 100% more important during a pandemic. “But people are stuck indoors. They need entertainment for morale and not going stir crazy” I’m sorry but there’s an almost limitless well of entertainment on the internet you haven’t consumed yet. Yeah, I want to see (and make) new art too but trust me, it would mean nothing if we had to walk around in filth. There are a lot of other situations where artists would be more important than cleaners but a pandemic ain’t it.

And finally, I kept saying robot cleaner instead of Roomba in my last post because Roomba is a brand name. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Roomba in the wild despite seeing loads of robot vacuums.

Have a lovey, hopefully clean day ✨

[sendpseuds]

I really love the "Runaway Roomba" fic, so.....

Obi-Wan getting the roomba back to his owner?

(Thanks a lot❤)

"Ah! Fuck!"

Anakin is deep inside the circuitry of his blender when the doorbell rings, breaking his concentration and scattering sparks across the breakfast table, burning into his bare chest with a curse and a surprised shout.

"Just leave the package at the fucking door," Anakin mumbles under his breath, shaking his head in frustration and trying to refocus on the task at hand, taking a deep steadying breath before reaching for the wires once again.

Knock knock knock

Growling in irritation, Anakin pushes away from the table, rolling his shoulders back and stalking toward the front door and whoever the fuck feels the need to interrupt him, not sparing a second thought to his current state as he slinks through his dark street-level apartment and reaches for the handle, wrenching the door open with a scowl.

"What!?"

Anakin isn't entirely certain who he'd expected to find standing at his front door but it definitely hadn't been James fucking Bond.

The man looks almost too perfect, each hair combed meticulously in place, stubble trimmed neatly along his jaw, dressed in an impeccably tailored sapphire suit and crisp white shirt.

"Oh— hello there."

Well, fuck. He even sounds like James Bond.

"Hi," Anakin breathes, barely managing the single word, standing a bit stunned in his doorway as the stranger's silver stare studies his face and when the man's attention tracks lower, his eyebrow raised curiously, Anakin suddenly becomes very aware of the fact that he still has a soldering iron attached to his prosthetic, shifting his weight to hide his right arm behind the door, "I— uh— how can I help—"

A series of loud beeps and screams interrupts his awkward stuttering and Anakin's eyes fall immediately to the man's feet and the mischievous droid waiting at the door.

"Artoo!" Anakin exclaims, both in surprise and chastisement, abandoning the modesty his half closed door provides and bending down to greet his disk shaped friend and help him over the threshold. "How did you get out!?" He asks the whirring robot, concerned and more than a little impressed before glancing up briefly at the man still standing in his doorway, "Where did you find him?"

"Up on Temple Street," the man responds matter of factly, his voice soft and smooth, "Quick little bugger."

"You know that's outside your WiFi range," Anakin scolds Artoo softly as the vacuum that absolutely no longer has the ability to clean in any capacity sounds a few annoyed beeps before proceeding into the apartment like he's done nothing wrong. Slowly, Anakin gets back to his feet, suddenly very aware he's standing in front of one of the most attractive men he's ever seen in nothing but a pair of ratty gym shorts, only able to stutter out a quiet, "Thank you."

"Of course," James Bond responds brightly, "I couldn't just leave him out there."

For a long moment they just stare at each other, silence stretching longer and longer and it feels like they're swaying closer and closer to one another.

When a car honks on the distance, they both startle.

"Yes, well," the man says, a small shy chuckle in his soothing voice, "Now that he's home I should probably—"

"Coffee?" Anakin asks nonsensically, his voice filled with a strange irrational hope, "Threepio— I mean— I have an espresso machine. I can make you anything you want."

The man simply looks at him for several long moments. Then a dazzling smile spreads across his face.

"I did skip the cafe this morning—"

[part one] [sketch]