#made me WAY more upset than pixels on a screen should ever have the power or ability to make me

[sillee]

I would also like to second the YouTube comment. I just subscribed and I am so inspired by your save file and lore and it makes me so excited to play the game again, you made it feel so alive and full.

ahh thank you!!! it is so good to hear this type of thing, honestly! <3 it’s so exciting that my channel can be that for people.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 4

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers

A/N: The song featured in the kitchen scene is Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

You were puzzling. Alone in your bedroom, laying within the comfort of your own bed, you were positively puzzling.

After sorting out just who Ben was and fixing the damage Baekhyun had done to your reputation by explaining that your idiot roommate had just gotten a hold of your phone, you reintroduced yourself and apologized for the confusion.

This ‘Ben’ actually seemed to laugh off the odd behavior he’d gotten as a first impression of you, mentioning that your roommate seemed funny, if not weirdly protective of you.

You could see what he meant when you read through the rapid fire questions Baekhyun had asked him from his age, to his preferred operating system, whether or not Ben had Facebook so “you” and him could be friends, his profession, and his parents line of work, his current place of work, how long he’s worked there and whether or not he moves around a lot, his hometown, his hobbies and even whether or not Ben has now or has ever had any pets; it seemed that Baekhyun had actually done a whole lot of legwork to give you a pretty good idea of what Ben might be like.

But the moment Baekhyun’s conversation topic changed to innocently ask Ben for his astrological sign, something struck you as off to see Baekhyun proclaim you to also be the same sign and after the two compared birthdays you began to find the whole exchange quite odd.

You realized that Baekhyun had simply lied about your birthday. Baekhyun knew your birthday. Why had he given a fake date to Ben? Unless there was something else happening that you didn’t understand. Then again, Baekhyun had always been rather stingy about giving out personal information; both yours and his. He was probably just being cautious about revealing too much to a stranger.

And actually, Ben seemed rather …. nice. You always hesitated to give them this adjective right off the bat as most of the guys you met who seemed nice right away turned out to be very good at faking nice and stringing along at least three or four girls at once for the shot at fucking at least one of them, and the hopes of fucking all of them.

You’d been called the wrong name late at night, whispered through a sleepy voice over the phone. You’d been sweet-talked and then abruptly called a bitch for refusing to send nudes to a guy you’d been talking to for only a week. Apparently a week was his limit and all his other girls gave him what he wanted within a couple of days. You’d been ghosted by nice guys who felt victimized and led on when you said goodnight politely with a smile and a wave instead of inviting them inside for ramen.

You did want a nice guy. But you wanted a real one.

What you wouldn’t give for one of them, for just one of them to be honest with you and really show you their true self.

Perhaps you had been going about it all wrong.

Your conversation with Ben quietly fizzled and you put your phone away to charge and now, now you were simply puzzling.

It panged at your heart to think of it, but the upset with Baekhyun hours earlier kept replaying in your mind. You propped your feet up on your wall and let your head hang off the edge of your bed, enjoying the way the gravity pulled at the blood in your brain and you tapped your fingers on the bed absentmindedly to the soft beat of music you heard playing from his room.

And you puzzled.

Don’t use your beauty as a weapon against me.

You hadn’t been this bothered by something since you’d watched that Mission Impossible movie the first time and spent an hour and a half trying to wrap your head around the complicated plot.

A Weapon.

Your beauty … a weapon … against me.

Why did it bother you so much? Why had he been so upset that you were playing with him, that you were messing with him. He messed with you all the time. You messed with him just as much. He never got this upset. No, he never got upset in this way. In such a way as to call you out on using something you had, against him. Something that you hadn’t even known had any power at all to attack the man. Your beauty. Did you have such a thing?

You thought about the other times you fought with him.

Not really fought, the two of you never did that, but that fake sort of fighting like when he’d woken you up at 2am for the third night in a row with his loud working music and you found him out in the kitchen disassembling your favorite toaster, the one with the wide slots for bagels that also toasts four slices of bread at once and even has special buttons for frozen items. The stainless steel one that you won in a work raffle and proudly marched through the office carrying with a huge smile on your face. It was a deluxe model. Supreme even. The master of it’s craft. Said so right on the box. Your toaster in a million pieces on your kitchen counter; all because he needed some components or resistors or whatever the fuck it was and he decided the best move was to take your toaster apart rather than to just order what he needed online and wait two business days for them to arrive.

Sure, he put it back together a few days later but not without enduring the laser eyes you shot him over breakfast when you had to toast a piece of bread in a frying pan on the stove like a loser who did not own a four slice Deluxe Toastmaster Supreme.

You’d planned your revenge then. It was something tiny and it involved his TV remote. His precious TV was enormous, took up almost the whole wall, OLED or SUPER-NANO or ULTRA-NANO some similar nonsense words and had 8-Ks of pixels or so he claimed and had so many smart functions you could hardly get comfortable using it for anything that didn’t involve the Netflix button. And no, no, you didn’t do anything to the actual TV. Relax, this was just the remote. This was harmless. Absolutely harmless. Easy to solve really if he had half a brain in his head.

You just carefully cut out the smallest tiniest piece of IR blocking tape that fit exactly over the infrared sensor on the remote control and fit so well it was undetectable to the human eye. Unless you knew it was there and knew exactly where to stick your fingernail in under the plastic bezel to peel it back. You simply applied the tape and left the remote right on the coffee table before you left for work.

You’d come home that night to a pile of assorted battery packs all strewn about the coffee table, and the remote completely taken apart down to the tiny circuit board and Baekhyun was quietly touching the tip of some tiny tool to the different spots on the scary looking green part from inside of the remote with all the metal bits stuck to it and when you slowly walked by he looked up at you through the magnifying eye glasses he wore. His eyes looked comically enormous and you swallowed away your laughter and considered how long you’d let him suffer.

“Something wrong with your remote, Peanut Butter?”

“It was working fine yesterday. I just don’t understand it.”

“Maybe it’s the batteries,” you offered innocently and he just ignored your helpful suggestion as he began screwing tiny screws into place with a precision screwdriver.

He was reassembling it all now and you sat down beside him on the sofa about as amused as you had ever been to sit and watch him suffer.

He grabbed two new batteries from an unopened pack on the table and aimed the remote, pressing the buttons again and again. Nothing happened.

He was surprisingly calm about the whole thing and judging by the various shopping bags and different brands of batteries you saw, he seemed to have been working on this all afternoon. Probably for hours now.

“I’m going to have to take the TV apart.”

He was already standing up and walking across the room toward the wall mounted monstrosity when you leaned forward for the remote. He glanced back at you as you did it and he looked at you just in time to see you shake the remote back and forth and then hit it twice lightly against your left hand. Just a little knock-knock should do it. You were careful to keep the expression on your face calm and well controlled.

When you pressed the power button, the big TV came to life and you pressed the button for Netflix and scrolled through your recommended titles. You had a new episode to watch. You’d have to make time tonight for that. After he was done with his little project here.

Baekhyun instantly pulled his hands away from the TV and hopped back and away from the screen, peering up at it with his mouth hanging wide open. His eyes shot back to where you sat on the sofa holding the remote control. You did not allow your smile to form. Nothing in your whole life had ever been so difficult. You felt as if you could pop right here. You casually flipped through the menu on the screen and the man looked back up at the TV and back down at you again.

You could see him coming in then. He was moving fast with several large steps toward you and with the quickest movement you could manage you used the tip of your finger to slide the IR tape back over the remote sensor. You could not be as precise as you had been before with him coming right at you so quickly, but hopefully it wouldn’t be visible.

He reached for the remote. “What did you do, how did you fix it?” He held it up and pointed it toward the TV. Again, the remote did not work. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek.

He was pressing buttons again and nothing happened with each new button he smashed down. You could see the madness growing in his eyes the more he tried.

He made the smallest whining sound from the back of his throat and it took every ounce of self control to keep from laughing as he lightly tapped the remote twice against his hand just as he had seen you do. Nothing.

You tried to hold it. You tried so hard. A tiny sound escaped, the smallest sniffle with a laugh broke free from your throat and you coughed lightly to hide it.

His face turned on you and those crazed eyes were back only instead of directing them at the remote, he was looking at you now.

“How did you fix it? Do it again.” He looked insane and desperate and a tiny smile betrayed you as you grabbed the remote from his hand. You played the smile off as part of the help you were willing to offer him but you also had to inhale a deep breath and carefully and slowly exhale it through your mouth to keep from breaking completely.

You held it up in your right hand and gave it a little shake. As quickly as you had done it before you turned the remote on its side as you gave those two little knocks and his head flipped toward the TV when you aimed. With his eyes averted you were able to slip the tape off just before pressing the button.

The Netflix logo greeted you and Baekhyun threw his head back and let out a loud frustrated yell into the ceiling above him.

You’d been holding your laugh for too long. It was becoming too difficult now and he was back, reaching for the remote when the first suffocating giggles took your composure and you laughed out loud.

Your laughter brought all of his attention right to you and only you. The entirety of his focus shifted and that brought those crazed eyes of his bearing down on you, wide and demanding.

It was, by far, the most successful and meanest prank you had ever played on him to date and you were gasping for air and laughing as he reached for you. He grasped both of your shoulders and he shook you as you laughed and laughed at the absolute madness in his eyes. Oh he was crazy. It was just so damn funny.

The remote was still in your hands and you flipped through the different inputs on the TV as you cackled and tears formed at the corners of your eyes.

“How did you do it? You devil! Tell me how you did it?”

He balanced with his knees on the couch and his hands were on you, roaming over the fabric of the sweater you wore, lifting your arms to look under them, maybe for spare remotes or for hidden batteries or secret formulas, who knows what he thought he might find.

You’d stashed the tiny circle of tape by sticking it to the skin inside your elbow and he was currently examining the fingers on all of your hands up close as if they concealed all of the secrets he was looking for.

It wasn’t until he searched higher, pulling your hand forward toward his chest and his thumb grazed against the shiny plastic of the tape circle you had on your inner arm when he did a double take, pulled your arm harder and lifted an accusing finger to point at the tape.

“What is that?!” He clearly thought himself to be the world’s greatest detective.  

You allowed yourself to be manhandled by him a little bit more as you got every bit of humor about your recent victory out of your chest and you lifted your other hand, the one he did not have held hostage right now to wipe at the tears that had fallen from your eyes.  

“Stop laughing and answer me, woman! What is it?”

“It’s my birth control patch,” you said through a laugh and his eyes widened as he pulled his hand back. It was a tiny movement but you were so close to his accusing eyes that it felt monumental and the dramatic reaction to your teasing lie made a fresh wave of laughter bubble up in your chest. You knew he would react this way. Any mention of your contraceptives always made him clam up.

“It’s IR tape, Baekhyun. Infrared blocking tape. I put it on the sensor this morning after breakfast. After I made toast in a pan instead of in my toaster.”

The truth pulled his whole head back and he fell down on his butt on the sofa briefly before he slipped and fell right off the couch onto the floor and he sat there with a blank lifeless look on his face; staring ahead without any focus in his eyes.

“Do you know how sad pan toast is, Baekhyun? Tell me, how am I supposed to be satisfied with pan toast when I should have been having Deluxe Toastmaster Supreme toast?”

He was shaking his head back and forth as you spoke and when he did move it was to lay down flat on his back on the floor of the living room. His hands were up and he rubbed roughly over his face.

“Oh my god. Oh my god—it’s so good. I would have never checked for tape over the sensor. Fucking tape. A piece of goddamn tape. I was so focused on the batteries.I went to three different stores today. The circuits to the sensor were all intact, I checked it, it was good — I never even considered this. Are you an evil genius? My sweet innocent Bug ... is actually an evil supervillain.”

You left him on the floor and made your way into the kitchen to make dinner. It was your night to cook and thanks to the man stewing on the floor of the living room you had to do it around the scattered carcass of your third favorite kitchen appliance.

You remembered the way he reacted then. He pouted and moaned on the floor for a few moments until he smelled the stew you were cooking on the stove. It was comfort food. Something with meat and potatoes and warmth and spices. It would lift anyone’s mood and his had been lifted almost immediately. There were no apologies or any tears. Just a promise to put the toaster back together tomorrow after he went to the store for the parts he needed and that was the end of it.

He didn't storm away. He didn't raise his voice or say you were mean or unfair or too beautiful for him to withstand. He didn't get angry about closeness being used the wrong way, in a way that was unfair to him. In a way that could hurt him, like a weapon.

If he said you had the kind of beauty that could be used against him, didn't that mean he found you beautiful? Wouldn't that mean that Baekhyun found you attractive?

The words protested inside your mind. You shook your head.

That was impossible. Definitely. You’ve been so close to him for so long without even a hint of that sort of a feeling from him. Sure you were close to each other. Sure you cared for each other. It was a familiar sort of affection you shared. But attraction? Because he found you beautiful in a way that was unfair?

The puzzling was giving you a headache. There were some things that just did not exist in the same space in your mind and that was the existence of your roommate, Byun Baekhyun, and the possibility that he was attracted to you in any way.

You’d been inside your bedroom for hours now and you were no closer to answers than when you first came in here.

Baekhyun would be done with his episode. He would have watched it with Mia and discussed themes or scenes or dramatic moments with her. Did he talk to her on the phone or maybe though a headset as they streamed the episode together.

Did he like her voice and did she like his jokes?

Did he make her laugh? Of course he did. He made everyone laugh. Baekhyun was charming and hilarious. But could she make him laugh? Could she make him giggle and shake like he laughed with you?

It was late. That didn't really mean all that much to Baekhyun, as the man didn't really have any set bedtime and usually just fell asleep when the sun began to come up. It was a weekend night and you didn't have work in the morning and frankly your curiosity had grown too much for you to just stay in here and fall asleep without at least checking on how the streaming date went.

You knocked lightly on his door. You could hear music playing inside. Nothing too loud or crazy. The man seemed to be having a somewhat low key evening.

“Yeah,” his voice called lowly and you opened the door and peeked your head inside.

“How is our girlfriend doing?” Baekhyun was sitting on his butt on the floor in front of his bed with his head laid over his arms and his phone abandoned in the middle of the floor out of arm’s reach.

He let out a long low groan but did not lift his head up when you stepped inside.

“I don't even know. I don't know.” He sounded defeated already and this had only just started.

“Peanut, what happened?” You picked up the phone and unlocked the screen, searching through his apps to find the dating app so you could see if they had said anything to each other that might give you some clues about what went wrong.

“Nothing happened. I was too quiet. I couldn’t talk at all. I didn't say anything during the entire episode. Why is this so scary. Uggghhh...I feel unsafe. It’s gross.”

You stepped over him and climbed onto his bed, sitting up against the head of the bed as you scrolled through the chat logs.

It looked normal. Not unfriendly. A little terse and abrupt on his part. The man didn't know how to loosen up when he talked to girls and you wondered if maybe you needed more one on one lessons with him before he was really ready for this stuff.

When you leaned back against the headboard you felt the bed dip and he climbed onto the bed beside you and angled his body toward where you sat up against the pillows.

When you got to the end of the chat you could see that she was the last one to speak and she remarked that he felt a bit different from when they spoke at the beginning of the day. He didn't say anything in response to that.

Baekhyun moaned with his eyes closed and he turned his head into your waist. He was obviously reliving some perceived embarrassment he must have felt during the interaction with Mia and when he moved his arm around your waist you looked down to find yourself trapped under his arm that constricted as he pulled tightly, hiding the entirety of his face somewhere in the shirt you wore. He was warm. The weight of his arm around you felt nice.

“I felt so unsafe,” he repeated his complaint from earlier and his voice was obscured and muffled as he hid himself. He switched the tense though and you wondered if he no longer felt unsafe now that you had come in.

You typed out a quick response to Mia. You didn't think it was right to just leave her hanging without an explanation for his strange silence during and after the show.

“I’m going to tell her that you were so quiet because you were nervous. I’ll also thank her for watching the episode tonight.”

You heard and felt a hum and the tightness of his arm around your waist relaxed a little as his arm went slack. He did not move though. He still hugged you. He was still warm and it took only a moment for your nose to pick up the pleasant smell of his clean bed sheets fresh from the dryer. You both had a schedule for washing things like towels and bed sheets. Yours had been cleaned today as well, but something about the smell of his bed felt better than yours had. Perhaps it had been all that difficult puzzling that had tainted yours.

Mia responded right away to your message. She was flattered by his nervousness. You could tell with the way she reassured that he really didn't have to be nervous around her. That she was an easy going kinda girl. Low maintenance she said. You scoffed at the thought of a computer geek being low maintenance. As if you didn't know how difficult to obtain fancy GPUs were and how expensive high powered CPUs, high capacity SATA drives, and their required cooling systems were. You looked around Baekhyun’s set up and figured it had to run somewhere in the multiples of tens of thousands of dollars; just in this room alone.

Low maintenance. Please, she was just as high maintenance as any other regular girl just with a different catalogue of parts.

You switched to the emoji keyboard and keyed off some random happy faces and closed her chat window with more force than was necessary; suddenly and unexpectedly irked when she responded with similar emojis and the notification popped up on the screen. You swiped it away quickly to be rid of it.

“She sounded nice though, even if I couldn’t talk. She sounded nice. Do you think she will even want to talk to me again? I think she likes you more than me.”

“She will like you. If she doesn’t she’s an idiot. A girl would have to be an imbecile, Peanut, to not fall for you.”

He lifted his face then, just enough for the corners of his eye to peek out and you looked down at the side of his face as he looked at you for a moment, absorbing the encouraging words you spoke to him. His leg began to shake somewhere on the end of the bed. You could feel the rhythmic motions. He often did this when he was tired.

You had been scrolling through matches on his phone, building on an idea that popped into your head.

The man needed some practice to build up his confidence. Maybe, just maybe you could find another girl. Someone who he could talk to, chat with, be friendly with, that maybe wasn’t just so wonderfully perfect for him. Someone just to break the ice with.

You stopped on a girl. Her dress was short and the neckline was low. She really left very little up to the imagination with this outfit. Outside of the revealing clothes, it was clear that she was a beautiful woman. She was sexy and very confident in herself despite the glaringly obvious grammatical typo in her bio.

You spun the phone around to show him.

“She looks nice,” you said. Baekhyun blinked at the phone and pulled his face back a little to see the image clearly.

“—-follow you’re dreams — you are — Never too old to follow you are dreams.” Baekhyun read out the sentence with the typo out loud and you laughed.

“Come on, she’s pretty,” you said softly, “right?” You probed gently and he chuckled once to himself and closed his eyes up with a sigh.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he said after a while and you felt yourself stiffen just a little bit with his admission. Of course she was. Anyone could see it. He’d be lying if he didn't admit it.

“Okay but like, just pretty or do you also think she’s beautiful?”

He hummed some non response and you focused your attention back on the phone in your hands. After scrolling through a few more profiles you found another woman whose beauty shone brightly right through the screen at you.

“And her? Is she pretty or is she beautiful?”

Baekhyun’s eyes opened again but just barely. He looked half asleep and you wondered if the reason his arm was still around you was because he was so sleepy he didn't realize he was still hugging you like this on his bed.

“Pretty,” he mumbled and pushed his face into your waist again. This time the shaking in his leg began to settle and you could hear a slow steadiness in his breathing.

“Should I message her? Maybe we can practice talking to her so you’re not so nervous talking to girls?”

“Sure Bug,” he said quietly, “you can do anything you want.”

He was falling asleep now. You could feel the change. It didn't matter. You’d let him rest a bit while you opened up a chat window and began talking to Candy.

She responded quickly and had a completely different feeling from Mia. Maybe this was good. Candy was easy to talk to but she had nearly nothing in common with Baekhyun. She casually asked what a computer programmer did and when you went into specifics you had trouble finding synonyms for words that didn’t just make it all more complicated. You finally settled on a simple explanation of what kinds of computer software Baekhyun had developed and left it at that.

After a while Baekhyun shifted in his sleep and uncovered his face. His lips were parted and from the upside down angle you could see the dark splash of his pretty eyelashes that landed over his soft cheeks. He looked lovely and peaceful. All the worries and fears of the day were gone and he was sleeping so calmly. You watched his sleeping face for a while, growing warm inside with the strange contentedness you felt.

You could see some light movement behind his eyes and you wondered if he was dreaming about anything.

Candy had asked for a picture. She was asking something superficial like what sort of car Baekhyun drove and you slipped into his picture gallery for the folder with the shots you took for him when he first bought his car. You found a nice one with him smiling behind the driver’s seat, bright red seatbelt across his chest and the logo of his fancy ride on the steering wheel.

‘Wooo, baby boy an Audi? you must be loaded. When are you gonna come pick me up in that?’

You laughed at her obvious reaction. Candy was exactly as you expected her to be. Baekhyun would be able to laugh and chat with her easily without too much pressure of impressing a complicated woman like Mia was. Candy was an open book. The stakes were lower with Candy.

Your giggle made him stir and you looked down to see his eyes open a tiny bit before he closed them again.

“It’s going well with Candy,” you whispered and he inhaled a breath and nodded his head as he closed his eyes again.

“Mmm, the pretty one?” he asked in a sleepy voice and you hummed your confirmation. Something buzzed inside of you; just a bit of nerve. Call it gumption.

“Baek,” you called quietly and his lips parted with his breathing but his eyes stayed closed this time. He did not respond. He didn't give any indication at all that he heard you call him.

“Baek, what about me?” Your voice was tiny when you asked it. You felt more warmth in this bed suddenly. You felt it in your chest and it seeped up to warm up your face too.

He hadn’t responded at all to your question. It had been pretty unclear though. He might not have heard it, or might not have understood it. Or his sleep may have just been too deep to register your words.

“Am I pretty or am I beautiful?” You said it so quietly there was little chance of him actually hearing it. He was asleep and you were just here, trapped in his embrace on his bed as he slept and you puzzled over the words he had told you during an upset. The words that you had pried from him when he was vulnerable and emotional. The words that you shouldn’t be over analyzing like this. Those words felt too risky to be giving this much thought to.

Here you were again, using your sneaking methods to try and trick him into something when you knew it wouldn't work, when you knew there was nothing really there and you were reading too far into things.

His steady breathing continued. His eyes remained closed and his arm still gripped around your tightly, holding you still, holding you close to him as he slept.

So you gave up. You’d moved back to the phone to respond to Candy; something silly and lighthearted, something easy just like she was, when you heard him speak.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said so far under his breath the statement sounded more like air than actual vocalization of any kind and your fingers stopped their rapid typing in the middle of your sentence.

Your eyes looked down. Your entire body was frozen. Half of you expected to find his eyes open and a wide teasing smile on his lips, begging for you to take the bait and believe his words just for the chance of laughing at your shocked face and making fun of you for being stupid enough to believe them.

He was asleep. His eyelids did not pull open when you looked down at him and his breathing remained as steady as ever.

Baekhyun was asleep.

That damn puzzling — your jaw was sore from clenching your teeth down and your lips were dry and chapped from biting them.  

You had dropped the phone and it disappeared somewhere amid the bedcovers.

Baekhyun’s sleep was deeper now. He must have been very tired to be falling asleep so recklessly like this. You shifted downward and made some attempt to find the phone without waking him up and your small movement made him inhale a deep breath through his nose and he was moving now. You felt him shifting, moving his sleepy body up higher in search for some comfort; for something to lay on that was a bit more comfortable than flat on the middle of the bed like that.

You used the movement to reach for the blanket and pull it over his body so he could be warm at least and when he finally settled he shared the same pillow as you. His forehead rested against your shoulder and he was once again, fast asleep.

His arm though— you found yourself still very much trapped in nearly the same embrace as before, just shifted. A forearm landed over your chest and you felt a new heaviness of his bent leg land over your thigh.

You could wake him.

You could push him off and let him roll the other way so you could make an escape back to the peace of your own bedroom.

You would. You would do that soon.

Your current state of thoughts was simply too overloaded to follow through on any game plan. If you could only have a few more minutes of his warm steady breathing, you would move away from this. You would do it.

It wasn’t that you had never considered it. It was that you had gone through many lengths to come to this place. You were safe and secure here.

It was that you had nowhere else to go when it was over.

This place was your home.

Peanut was part of that home.

Things were nice right now; the way they were at home.

But…

As they sometimes do, and against your own will, your thoughts wandered.

You wondered as they wandered — wondered about him.

From the deepest parts of your mind; down where you’d shoved them roughly many times before, those wondering thoughts danced and swayed lightly to the soft music playing in this room.

Those secret thoughts about the sweetness in his eyes. Secrets about the fondness you felt for the little tips of him; the tip of his nose, the tips of his fingers, the pink tips of his ears. Thoughts you refused to encourage.

Baekhyun was asleep and you were thinking.

With the thinking came the shame and your skin was hot to the touch. The last thing you wanted was to ruin your home. With the thinking came the denial. You could not encourage anything. You could not afford to become complacent. You did not need these thoughts to become so brazen. You did not need them taking root. The last thing you needed was them making an appearance again.

The sounds he made while dreaming pulled your closed eyelids back open. You turned your face toward the sound. It was soft, the small groan from the back of his throat. But his face changed then; eyebrows screwed together and his lungs constricted as he let out a softer sound, like a whine. It was a complaint. His face showed signs of pain. The dream must have been unpleasant.

You lifted a hand then, shifted within his embrace you raised your palm and laid it carefully over the side of his face.

The shift happened with the warm contact and his features evened out and that pained look was gone.  

You smiled then. So sleepy but satisfied that you could help when he needed it.

You would move after he got a little more sleep. After he’d had a little more comfort from you, you would move.

You weren’t the first to move. And it seemed by the change in light that shone through the windows that your visit had lasted much longer than you had intended.

It was the untangle that woke you up. A conscious and deliberate lifting of limbs; the careful grip of a hand lifting your arm by the wrist and setting it gently down on a flat mattress.

You opened your eyes when he pulled his own leg out from between your thighs. The temperature change was most jarring. You had felt so warm before.

Baekhyun was sitting up in his bed. His hair was standing up in places all over his head and he was moving slowly and carefully, in an attempt to disengage himself from the tangle of this woman he had just woken up with.

The sleep was still very thick in your head. It hadn’t been a full night’s sleep had it? You felt like you had just closed your eyes a minute ago and yet the sunshine was so bright outside already.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun whispered when he realized you were now awake and looking at him, “guess I got too comfortable...must have fallen asleep.”

His voice was thick with sleep and with embarrassment too, you could hear it everywhere, with the quick words he spoke to you and the pink that covered the back of his neck and flooded his cheeks too.

This situation...this was an embarrassment. Of course it was.

This was something that should not have happened. Not with two adults of similar age who shared so many liberties with each other; spending time in each other’s arms at night, well…

You felt awkward all over. What if—what if you’d done something in your sleep? What if you said something?

And he already wasn’t meeting your eyes as he climbed out of the bed and awkwardly made his way into his bathroom.

You could hear the sound of the running water faucet and the door closed with the smallest click like he went out of his way to close it as softly and quietly as possible to avoid disturbing you any further.

You could feel the heat burning on the skin of your cheeks and you used his absence to get up and get out of his bedroom before he came out and found you still, still tangled in his bed sheets like you’d been tangled in his legs and in his arms all night.

You had to ignore this. You had to forget it ever happened, and anyway, you were best friends with the guy...right? Wasn't this thing bound to happen in the course of a friendship? What if you went on a holiday with him and the hotel only had one bed? These things really did happen, you read about it on twitter once. Would you be that asshole best friend who let him sleep on the floor just because he was a man? No! You could build a little pillow wall between your bodies and sleep as still and motionless as possible, like a corpse.

This feeling would go away. The red hot embarrassment would wash down the drain of your shower. The sticky warmth left behind by his skin would go with it.

You’d made it as far as to undress and turn on the hot water when an awful memory dawned on you.

Baekhyun still had your shampoo.

You didn't have any other shampoo in this bathroom that you could use. You pulled open cupboards and drawers, searching for anything; tiny hotel sized travel bottles, a nearly empty bottle under the sink for a rainy day, even maybe something in the trash can that still had a few drops. Nothing.

You eyed the hand soap on your sink and pictured stepping out of the shower a frizzy, tangled mess.

A soft knock vibrated against your bathroom door.

“Bug, your shampoo.” Baekhyun’s voice called out, muffled by the sounds of the running water and the door itself, “it’s almost empty, but there’s a little left. Sorry, I’ll run to the store and get more.”

Your ear was pressed against the door so you could make out everything he said; so you could listen carefully to the tone and delivery of his words to see if he was still embarrassed about last night or if he’d brush it off easily like he did most things that seemed to bother him.

There were another two soft knocks, “B-Bug?”

“Yeah, Peanut, thank you. Can you just...put it by the door. I’m already undressed. I’ll grab it in a bit.”

He did not respond right away and you stayed with your ear against the door waiting for some sound. Some indication that he had left. The click of your door, anything.

“I left it by the door,” you heard his far away voice shout and then the click of your door.

When your shower was done and you were dressed in your favorite weekend outfit, the high waisted comfy shorts with pockets and a cute top that made you feel somewhat pretty even on a casual day and you emerged from your bedroom feeling ready to face whatever weird moods or wacky situations accosted you today.

You found him singing a song to himself in the kitchen as he made something that smelled delicious for breakfast. The radio was on a pop station that played hits from all the past decades and the upbeat rhythm of the song that played was a definite favorite that had him dancing at the stove.

It was a groovy little love song, quite old now that you thought about it and you felt the beat hit hard in your chest with each pop of his shoulders and hips. The joy you could feel in this song hit you just like that beat hit; heavy and prominent, and you smiled wide to welcome this morning mood it brought with it.

When you stepped into the kitchen to grab a mug to make yourself some coffee you couldn’t help but sing along to the song, you loved the song as much as he did and when he noticed you enter the room you could hear him singing the main parts; expertly, even though the singer was a woman, his voice could always reach the high notes as well as the low ones. She was the kind of epic singer with one of a kind of talent that was world dominating. Baekhyun was singing along, doing the same kinds of ad-libs and vocal runs that she did and he did it while holding the spatula up to his face like a microphone.

As you walked by he dipped his head and looked into your face and his eyes caught ahold of yours. You knew what was coming. You could hear it coming in the song, the chorus. The part you had to sing. These were the rules. He leaned hard and brought the spatula up to your lips just in time for your part to come on. You did not disappoint. You gave it your all closing your eyes up tight and throwing your head back, singing from the very center of you, this part you always sang during this song. The part that was made for you; he knew it and you knew it.

His smile was genuine and breathtaking and he grabbed your hand with his spatula-less hand and pulled you into him, the beat taking over whatever bit of nervousness he might have had before. This was different. This was dancing. This was singing to simply the best song for a Saturday morning and it was moving and laughing with your best friend and you let him spin you in a small circle, careful to keep your coffee mug lifted so it didn’t hit anything during the spin.

His sense of rhythm was perfect. His hips moved as if they were made for this. You had no choice but to follow. An occasional hand on your hip told you where to go. The song was reaching its peak and you knew it was a short one. The best ones always were. It was going to begin winding down now. It was always such a sweet and short lived moment of happiness that you always appreciated immensely.

As a final move, he gave you a little spin and released you to go on your way toward the coffee maker you so desperately wanted to get to when you first entered this kitchen.

He finished the eggs with the last notes of the song.

As you both sat down to eat, his eyes met yours and yours met his and you dug into the eggs and bacon he’d prepared. You offered him a perfectly buttered toast slice and he took it, nodding his head as he bit into the crisp corner.

“So Bug,” he spoke up between bites of eggs, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully, “about this...Candy.”

You swallowed the hot coffee in your mouth and clasped your hands together, suddenly remembering how asleep he had been when you had hit it off with Candy, his practice girl.

He listened to your explanation. Your theory that the stakes were simply too high with Mia and he needed someone to talk to that was a bit more of a relaxed task for him. You called it easy mode so he might get the game reference. He ate and listened to you talk and occasionally his eyebrows would lift or screw together with whatever sorts of thoughts he was thinking inside his head. You could tell by his body language that he didn't exactly want to start something with Candy and you had to emphasize that it was really just for practice, talking to her. It was to help build his confidence.

“She’s already in, Peanut. She thinks you’re super cool, she thinks you’re rich and thinks you have a very good job and plus, you make lots of money and she seems super into that.”

He was not speaking yet, despite how much you had talked and you were beginning to get worried that he didn’t see the benefit of practicing his conversation skills a little bit.

“It’s not even real, Baek, you just have to make some things up with her. Just to get over that anxiety about talking to women. Just until you are more comfortable.”

When he finally did speak, it was as you feared.

“It just feels kinda gross, Bug. She’s a real person too, even if she is obviously a gold digger. It just seems wrong. I’ve been...thinking lately. What if this is...wrong of us?”

“What if I just have to tough it out with Mia and get the fuck over it and just,” he thrust his hands forward over the food on the table for emphasis, “just — blehhhh — talk, just fucking talk to her.”

You lifted a fork with eggs toward your lips but your stomach protested. You suddenly didn't want any more food. The coffee you were drinking had suddenly gone too cold for your liking and you pushed the plate and mug away from you with your fingertips.

You were bothered.

Why did he choose right now to suddenly grow a conscience about this? Did he forget that Mia was chatting with both of you and not just him?

“I...I just — I want to try with Mia. I know I can get over it and talk to her. And I don't want to talk to Candy. The person Candy thinks I am, well...that’s just false. I can’t be the person she’s expecting me to be.”

He had obviously read through the entire conversation with Candy last night and found the tales you told simply too stretched out for him to try and live up to.

“But that’s what people do when they start dating. They stretch the truth, make themselves sound just a little bit better, make themselves taller, or make themselves look richer. They all do this.” You simply could not understand why he didn’t get this. Why he didn’t just play by the rules that everyone followed to get through the door so he could stand a chance here.

“Well I don't. I don't want someone to fall for a fake version of me. I want someone to like me now. This me. Byun Baekhyun. The Peanut with anxiety who lives with Bug who almost killed him over a cheese stick, but who makes really great toast.”

He was smiling now, joking about the funny memories. You pulled your lips into a forced smile and lifted the coffee for another drink so you didn't have to smile any more.

He was watching your face. You were sure he sensed it. Something had bothered you to the point of giving up on your breakfast and every pass your eyes made over his face led to the same thing. He was watching you.

“Why are you upset?”

You shook your head lightly. Willing the obvious signs to leave your face. You didn't even know why. You didn't have a name for this. So you just shrugged in response to him.

“Because I don't want to practice on Candy? Did you actually like her for me?”

You really made your best attempt. You inhaled deep and closed your eyes and you shook your head.

Candy did not matter and you knew it. There was something ugly inside of you maybe. Something that did not want Baekhyun to get along with perfect Mia. Something that was fighting against the idea of him being happy and healthy and free of this unhealthy attachment you had to him. Free and happy away from you.

“Then why?”

Enough. You were being unfair to him. You had promised him that you would help him. You had gotten him this far and you’d be the worst kind of asshole if you didn't see him through to the end; if you didn't follow through with your promise to find him someone who would love him like he deserved to be loved, exactly as he was now. The amazingly wonderful Byun Baekhyun.

“It’s nothing like that,” you smiled softly. It felt like a sad smile, but at least it was genuine. “I just worry when you get so anxious. You know you fell right asleep last night. As soon as I came in, you passed right out.”

Your words skillfully slipped out of your lips and you successfully changed the subject. You felt like a coward, but you simply did not have words for what was happening to you.

“I didn’t...say anything did I? Before I fell asleep?”

This question was quiet. His fingertips grazed over his lips as he asked it, nearly muffling the words he shyly asked you at the breakfast table, the morning after.

You are so fucking beautiful.

You are so fucking beautiful.

You lifted your coffee cup to drink the tepid liquid inside and dropped your eyes from his shaking ones. The answer to his question sat on the back of your tongue even after you swallowed away the liquid.

You swallowed again and it refused to budge and yet you sat in silence, unable to utter a single word in reply to his quiet question.

Your silence went on for too long and he looked up into your face. An instant smile lifted at the corner of your lips and you forced it up into your eyes.

“You just slept, Peanut. We—” you had to exhale the breath that you had been holding for too long in your lungs, “we just slept.”

 Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven

[katara0524]

Impromptu Ramblings about the NEO:TWEWY Demo

In case y'all weren't aware, I've been a pretty big fan of TWEWY for a couple years now, and with the sequel coming out next month, the excitement I feel for this game is greater than ever :) I played the Demo for the first time yesterday, and following a couple views of some livestreams of others playing it, I felt like sharing my (very ramble-y) thoughts prior to the release of the full game. This post WILL contain spoilers for both TWEWY and NEO:TWEWY, so if you want to avoid those from now on, please block the tags: #twewy spoilers, #ntwewy spoilers, #neo twewy spoilers, #ntwewy, and #neo twewy ^_^ Oh, and if you wanna keep up with any other posts I make about my experience with this game, please refer to the tag "kat plays neo twewy" :)

-First things first: I have not watched the Final Trailer and I don't plan on doing so to avoid spoilers, especially after the pre-release era of KH3 where a lot of the later trailers spoiled a lot of the endgame content. That being said, I've seen some minor screenshots from the final trailer including what many believe to be characters from the original TWEWY, namely Shiki and Joshua. That is all I know about the Final Trailer and I would very much like to remain as blind as possible going into NEO :)

-The very first cutscene was quite ominous in the sense that this game is likely going to be about "changing fate" (a recently common theme in Squeenix games, which I do appreciate), perhaps leading off from the end of A New Day in the OG and trying to stop an Inversion of Shibuya. Also worth noting that A New Day had similar aspects in which the main character experienced "future visions" of tragic events, although in A New Day these events were not able to be changed, while in NEO it seems like one of the main "powers" our protagonist has is specifically to rewrite these events and avoid a "bad ending." Very interesting indeed!

-I really like the revamped comic book style dialogue scenes, it's much more fluid and modern, which is an excellent direction for the series to take!

-I would love to have an actual PokemonGO knockoff of Final Fantasy creatures, please Squeenix that would be incredibleeeeee

-Also the LINE stickers??? Are so cute???

-I would just like to point out that Fret is an absolute treasure throughout this entire demo, he's hilarious and I will protect him with my life

-UHHHH don't like that Fret picked up some Reaper Pins just out of nowhere.....or the fact that they're apparently popular all over Shibuya.............did y'all not learn anything from the OG game or what lmao

-Okay so when I first got the "curry or ramen" scene and heard NPCs talking about the new curry place replacing the old ramen place I became IMMENSELY distressed that Ramen Don was totally cut from the game because....well, Ramen Don is a King okay?? But I'm glad to learn that no, he didn't fall off the face of the earth, he's still in business and he's the one opening the curry restaurant lolol. PHEW, crisis averted!

-.....I don't like the sudden appearance of a Wall Reaper and being able to read NPC thoughts. Wtf happened when they left the ramen place??? Are they playing the Game alive somehow?

-Okay so I have my own theories about this "Swallow" character and what they're up to but considering this is only the Demo and I still Have No Idea What's Happening, I'm just gonna say that I think Swallow intentionally led Rindo and Fret to the Crossing so they could join the Game. I mean, add in the fact that Swallow still communicates with Rindo during the Game and you've got yourself a suspicious character right there lol

-"Hey they're shooting off fireworks!" Fret honey that's not fireworks oof (see also: "*laughs* I'm in danger")

-WOOOOOO way to traumatize Rindo right off the bat like that LMAOO

-The visuals for the intro are VERY GOOD, the song is pretty decent until it gets all "screamo" (which I absolutely cannot stand sorry lol)

-Shoka is every Customer Service employee ever and I respect that

-Susukichi went from being "meh" to "WOW THIS GUY IS FUN" in the span of 10 seconds and I also respect that (he is also built like an Absolute Unit which is hilarious)

-The Wall Reapers (and just Reapers in general) seem.....way nicer and more helpful this time around?? Like in the OG the Wall Reapers were SO RUDE gfhjgjdfkhn and yeah I'm sure we'll get some like that but the juxtaposition of the first Wall Reaper in the OG compared to the first one in NEO is insane.

-The puzzles are quite a bit more entertaining this time around even if it's generally the same "fetch quest" formula lol

-"Rindo's Group" way to go Fret HFKJDGHSDFKJ mans really left the default name in there lmao

-OKAYOKAYOKAY so to those who aren't aware I am a MASSIVE SIMP for Sho Minamimoto, he's my absolute favorite and I think about him daily. HIS INTRODUCTION IS. INCREDIBLE. I LOVE IT SM.

-GOD hearing him actually SPEAK FULL SENTENCES is just SO SURREAL I love this sm

-Also the remix of his theme???? NEO TRANSFORMATION????? IT'S SO GOOD????????? It's like gone from a Boss Theme to a more triumphant sounding theme and I am HERE for it (every version of Transformation is just INCREDIBLE and getting a new one is even better)

-I Love Him, Your Honor

-Also idk how exactly but it's kinda weird seeing Sho in the OG vs NEO, cuz while he's mostly the same Insane Math-Obsessed Catboy, he's.....calmed down quite a bit?? Like OG made a whole point of how poorly he cooperates with others (not to mention just being completely unhinged and trying to kill everyone), whereas here in NEO he's......actually kinda working with others??? HELLO???? Sir what happened to you and Neku during those 3 years I would love to know all about it

-I guarantee you Sho is still probably scheming shite and will likely pull some total insane BS later down the road, and I am very much looking forward to that. Also, is he looking for a certain Pin or something??? Cuz he keeps talking about different Pins and even mentions "this is just another Psych Pin" like he's actively looking for a Pin to do something with. Maybe it also has to do with the "latent powers of Players" thing he mentioned as well??? What is this dude UP TO oml (also is he in contact with Neku at all?? they're both technically fugitives at this point right?? WHAT HAPPENED AFTER A NEW DAY I AM BEGGING YOU)

-I seems like Sho ALSO has an idea of what's going on in this specific game (even if he won't admit it straightforward). Per his quote "The game's 142,857. Factor it out," he's essentially saying, "This game is a neverending cyle, figure out how to get out of it" (or at least that's what I got from his "cyclic number" nonsense lolol)

-I do like how Sho mostly stays out of sight until he's needed for a battle or assisting with a mission, that's kind of on par with his whole "uncooperative" quirk from the OG, plus he might literally have to stay out of sight of other Reapers and Players considering he's likely breaking the rules of the Game (not surprising considering him and Neku broke practically every rule in the book during OG)

-The nicknames for Sho- I can't- They're so FUNNYYYY GFHJSDFKJ

-He goes from being called "Pi-Face" and "Tabooty" in OG to "Mr. Minami" and "M-Teezy" in NEO LMAOO

-(Wowee I just realized I've been mostly talking about Sho oopsies sorry y'all, this is what I meant by thinking about him almost daily he is THAT much of a fav of mine ghfkjsd)

-Okay RIP Fret and Rindo for not getting literally ANY explanation as to how the Game works OOF, that is kinda cringe that whoever gets the Pin earns points, not whoever erases the Noise (which like I understand but also URRRGGHHH I WANNA SEE THE SQUAD SUCCEED)

-"I should be going home now it's getting late" Oh you sweet summer child-

-Also love the mention of parents in this game???? KH you could learn a thing or two from TWEWY (poor Rindo's mom fhgjkdh)

-KUBO IS HILARIOUS I SUPPORT HIM AND HIS GROSS FACE (also thank you Final Trailer thumbnail for spoiling my suspicions about him very cool smh)

-Kaie is a LAD I also support him, go King type those funky texts I believe in you

-FRET PLS STOP SCANNING FHGJKSDHKJFGHFKJ he's like me when I scan in OG during Weeks 2 and 3 and see Taboo Noise coming after me ghfjdshfj

-Also Rindo can you stay off your phone for TWO SECONDS ik you're trying to figure things out but Fret is a jelly boi and I don't want him to be upset with you my guy

-Sho being an actual sorta mentor to the kiddos?? Who are you sir this is so unlike you ghfgskj what happened to the guy who tried shooting children in the face 8 times over LMAO (granted he's probably just using them but it's still nice to see him actually cooperating and sharing knowledge with the kiddos aaaaa)

-EYO EIJI OJI THE TIKTOK INFLUENCER IS BACK LMAO

-hgjkfshgkjf "we aren't glorifying capitalism on my watch" THATS SO FUNNY TO ME GFHJFSDGHJKS (also an all-orange ensemble is disgusting you deserve jail for one thousand years fkn Cheddar Goldfish Cheezit ass woman)

-WICKED TWISTERS NAME DROP EYOOO we love to see it

-gfhsgjf Poor Rindo embarassing himself for the sake of the Game that's incredible

-R e t u r n t o M O N K E. That is all.

-Dialogue during boss battles is HELLA cool i love that

-HHHHH THE KANON SCENE MADE ME A N G E R Y FRET STOP SIMPING MY GUY says the girl with a Literal Simp Encyclopedia and simps for pixels on a screen daily

-Can't wait to see the other Reapers :eyes emoji:

-CAN'T WAIT TO SEE NAGI MY BELOVED YEAHHHH WOOOOOO AAAAND that's about it for the demo lolol, I absolutely CANNOT wait for next month, this game is gonna be INCREDIBLE holy hell Prepare for more simping, more screaming, and more vibing from Yours Truly :) I fully intend on sharing more general thoughts like this on both Tumblr and Twitter so it's not just reblog-retweet-reblog-retweet with the occasional comment fhgskjd

If you wanna witness my insanity up close and personal I have a Square Enix Discord server called Sea Side Dreamers! You can look it up on Disboard, or you can add me on Discord @Katara0524#9244 for a direct link :) We have topics about Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, NieR, and ofc TWEWY (as well as other topics!), so if you want some good ol' chaos and chitchat, you're more than welcome to join!

[margoshansons]

The Killing Kind (7/?)

Part Seven: 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06.

Summary: Instead of calling a drone to eliminate Brad, Peter simply had Y/N do his dirty work for him.

Warning: Mild swearing (does taking Jesus’ name in vain count?), maybe some miswritten hacking skills.

Notes: I am not a tech person, so this is kind of out of my league, but I tried my hardest to make it seem realistic. 

She didn’t know how, but Peter was to blame for this. When Harrington told them that they had made the last minute upgrade to Prague, that was the first thought that popped into (Y/N)’s mind. 

She approached the young superhero, crossing her arms as she leaned in, “Did you just hijack our summer vacation?”

Peter turned to her, apologetic, “Not on purpose, uh, Nick Fury really needs me to help out with these Elemental situations--”

“And let me guess,” Y/N cut off, “The next one’s in Prague?”

Peter nodded his head sheepishly before grasping his suitcase, “I’m sorry?” was all he could muster up before the two of them followed the rest of the class onto the bus. Y/N shook her head before settling down next to MJ, the two girls tuning out the world as the European countryside passed them by. 

Y/N gazed out the window, allowing the exhaustion from yesterday to settle over her, allowing her to slowly, gently, give in to the wave, closing her eyes as the green field passed her by. 

When she woke up, she knew she wasn’t in Prague. As if the strange behavior of the bus driver could’ve helped alleviate the situation. 

It was a bathroom stop, a chance to stretch their legs before continuing the bus ride for the next few hours. 

MJ had disappeared, and as far as Y/N could tell, so had Peter. A yawn escaped her mouth, alerting the girl to her newly revived state. Her eyes caught movement near the Men’s restroom, watching as Brad opened the door ever so slightly. She heard a scuffle of voices as he walked in, and as she crept closer, she could hear the unmistakable voice of Peter protesting something. 

By the time they had loaded back onto the bus, Y/N had no doubt that something awful was about to go down if the way Peter was shaking was any indication. 

After making sure MJ was asleep once again, she moved over to join Peter in the front seat. 

“Hey” She offered, “Is everything okay? You seem a little...on edge”

Peter shared a worried look with Y/N, stumbling over his words. “Brad, he um...he has....”

“Jesus, spit it out Peter,” She asked exasperated with his nerves. 

He leaned down, whispering the secret, “Brad has an embarrassing picture of me doing something that I definitely didn’t do but looks like I did, and now--”

“Say no more” she cut him off, pulling her laptop out of her bag, connecting it to the bus wifi. “It’s on his phone right?”

Peter nodded. 

“iPhone or Android?” She asked, pulling up the program her father downloaded several years ago.

Peter placed his new glasses on his face, turning to look at Brad, eyes scanning the kid. “Um, iPhone, I think.”

“Great” Y/N began to type away in Linux, programming the necessary functions, “I need his Apple ID and password.”

Peter nodded, “EDITH,” He whispered, “I need to access Brad Davis’ Apple ID information”

Y/N paused, in awe of the glasses, “Those are Stark’s glasses” She whispered, jaw open. “That gave him access to half of the world’s private information, those are a work of technical genius!” She rambled on, current task forgotten. 

Peter turned back to her, too distracted by his own hormonal problems to recognize the amount of work that went into the glasses staining his face. “Huh, oh yeah, it’s pretty cool. Mr. Stark left them to me.”

Y/N tried to ignore the irritation spinning in the pit of her stomach at the thought of a kid younger than her being left something so important. “He created the world’s most technically advanced AI, and he just...gave it to you? No explanation needed?”

Peter nodded, absentmindedly watching Brad in hopes of gaining information. 

She laughed mirthlessly, holding back her anger at the thought of Peter having so much power. He was a child, not even a full adult, and he had one of the most powerful AIs at his disposal. 

“Okay, I got it!” Peter announced, turning back around to face the front of the bus, “his email is bdavisbasketball@icloud,”

She began to input the information into the program, coding around it. “Password?”

Peter glanced back at the hidden screens in front of him, “bradsthebest, all lowercase, no spaces”

Y/N shook her head, disappointed in her peers for choosing such an easily hackable password. Even without the highly advanced program, she’d be able to hack his phone in a nanosecond. 

“Alright, I have access” Y/N smiled inwardly, feeling like a character in a heist movie, “You said it was a picture right?” 

Peter faced her, pulling the glasses off and leaning in. “Yeah, it would be among his recents”

“I know how phones work Peter.” Y/N snapped back, mostly as a joke, but she knew some of the irritation was real, that she really was upset with Peter’s use of EDITH. Or at least, she knew that was part of the reason for most of her irritation, the other part was because she could feel his breath on her neck, his arm hovering over her head, torsos practically touching. It drove her crazy. She could almost smell the body wash he had no doubt used that morning after last night’s events, mint radiating off his frame. 

“There it is!” Peter shook her out of her thoughts, and Y/N hoped he didn’t notice the amount of blood rushing to her cheeks. She clicked on the picture, deleting it from Brad’s phone for good before closing the program and shutting her computer. 

Peter collapsed against the bus seat, a sigh of relief emanating from the two teenagers for completely separate reasons. 

“Thanks” Peter’s gaze met hers, shoulder’s relaxing.

“No problem” Y/N smiled tightly, a jealous knot forming in her stomach at the sight of the glasses in Peter’s hands. She hated feeling like this. Like her dad. 

“You can try them sometime if you want” Peter offered, handing the pair of spectacles over to the student. “You, uh, you probably know more about them than I do anyway.”

Y/N’s awed gaze fell to the AI in her friend’s hand. All that power...and he was just giving it away. “You should keep them” She swallowed, her stomach growing tight, “If I need them I’ll ask.”

Peter nodded, tucking the glasses back into his backpack before drifting off for the rest of the trip.

Thanks for the love!

MASTERLIST. 

TAG LIST

@21bruhs @maiabiovillage @spidey-holland7 @petersblake @queen-destenie @thewinchesterchronicles @filthydeatheaters @cutiepiemimi13@happylittlesuns @smolbeanfive @leilei-draws @olivia1112 @avnngrs@suvikamahes98blr @broken-from-fandoms @your-pixels-are-showing@sarablog10 @santa-feigh @jade-mccartney @prettyylamee @badboysdoitbetter2 @isabellapotter15 @keanuuuuuureeeeeeevesssss@kpop-wuver @editsbyjenny @radkryptonitepeanut @wonders-of-the-multiverse @kaylinfayezink @ppunderoos @weyheyavengers@thatsuperherosidekick @dasydni @jackiehollanderr @complete-trash-101 @thatwhitemutant @depressed-comics @bbygrlsyd

If you wanna be tagged or removed let me know!

[minaim-blog]

DaTr Date Night - Part 1 - At The Arcade

There’s school tomorrow but it’s date night for Dib and Tak. As a break from their usual night out Dib brought her to the local arcade, but there Tak finds something she can’t beat down or pause for later. Will she be able to overcome or this truly unbeatable?

Tak reviewed the state of her vessel meticulously through its computer console. She noted a stable life-support system and defense array at near maximum power, its sensor’s registered itself atop an atmosphere-less asteroid hurling through space with her opponent nowhere to be found. She concluded the disappearance was caused by a cloaking device attached to the enemy’s ship which she had noted lend itself quite nicely to their tactic of minor aggression followed by hasty retreat, repeating until victory was achieved. It had only succeed in dealing minor damage to her vessel both now and at an earlier encounter, but she knew her opponent would need more than a cheap trick to take down an Irken Invader, and also that her opponent (for all she could tell) could not supply anything else beyond that.

Still, she was just as cautious as she was assured of her own victory, as only a fool would let themselves be defeated by their own overconfidence. Contrary to the greatest annoyance on this dirt ball of a planet, which she’s been existing on now for more than six of its solar cycles: Zim. Whose very existence breathed overconfidence, and yet also possessed an infallible tenacity that refused to perish no matter how far to the brink of devastation it was brought. While she did think the later was an admirable trait, she never would have said this openly to him, as it would have only made him that much more insufferable. She was hesitant to call him an ally, more so a neighbor in banishment, and he could still inspire within her a feeling of deepest frustration and malcontent whenever he dared to proclaimed himself as anything besides incompetent.

“Zim is neither here now, nor the reason for coming out.”

She had to tell herself this to refocus on the enemy at hand. Thankfully just as she brought herself back to the battle the enemy provided her with a means to its end. While her enemy’s cloaking device mostly obscured it from her ship’s sensors it was not completely unidentifiable. In their previous encounter Tak noted that her sensor array, while unable to detect the enemy ship, could pick-up any projectile based artillery fired on the battlefield, and thanks to the now incoming fire she was able to pinpoint the general location of her enemy. Maneuvering her vessel past the incoming missiles she utilized her ship’s ability to release a focused EMP based attack at the location of fire, while it deals no damage it makes up for it in its useful ability to remove any buffs the target possess. In one swift motion Tak was both able to avoid the enemy fire and release the blast towards it source leaving two ships now visible on the battle field. Pleased with her accomplishment but rather annoyed at the lack of challenge Tak revealed her disgruntlement,

“Alright, hide and seek is done. Let’s get this over with quickly, my boyfriend and I had the rest of the evening planned.”

Saying this however seemed to anger her opponent, which while it was not her intention, helped in ending their confrontation. Her opponent charge forward blindly in an attack that was easily dodged and Tak followed it with one of her own, dealing major damage to his ship. The vessel she was piloting possessed relatively weak firepower and average defenses but exceled at maneuverability and close quarters combat. Her opponent’s ship lacked firepower, defenses, and had only average maneuverability at best. Its only strength was its cloaking device, which was now useless.

“You know when I said, ‘get this over with’ I didn’t think you would just throw yourself at me. I thought you said you wanted a rematch?”

A display showed up on her screen with a video feed of her enemy, and she was surprised that even with the filter it provided the human looked just as greasy and disgusting as normal. Perhaps even more so, if that was possible. Her opponent roared,

“This is our rematch!”

Goading her enemies was something Tak had trouble avoiding and hated to admit it, but she chastised herself saying that Zim was rubbing off on her and hated that even more. In the instance she thought this to herself her opponent had already charged at her again and was able to land a blow. Tak quickly brought herself to attention and used her opponent’s over extension against him as he spurred a flurry of attacks, and was able to land a powerful counter. The blow was not fatal but the stun it provided allowed Tak to finish him off in her own sequence of attacks or “COMBOS” as Gaz had corrected her before. Tak even tried to remember one of the strings Gaz showed her last time they played together.

“Down, down, up, up, right, left, right, left. Or was it reverse? Was there an ‘X’ somewhere? Or was it ‘B’?”

She continued thinking like this to herself while she was attacking and complained that humans should streamline their attack commands if they ever wanted a chance against a more efficient species. True to any video game however, simply mashing buttons brought her to victory without even focusing and her opponent’s ship was rubble in no time at all. The computer screen on her ship beamed “PLAYER 2 WINS!” and an electronic fanfare blasted into her ears which together with the strobe lights was almost making her nauseous. Thankfully her work was done, and she removed the virtual reality helmet she had been wearing during the fight and found herself in the familiar arcade Dib had managed to drag her into.

Her opponent: the greasy, sweaty, and annoying human, was banging his fists on the computer console and his helmet, managing to hurt himself doing so. He tore off his helmet and glared at Tak while shouting again,

“I want a rematch!”

“That was your rematch.” Tak responded. “And like the first one, it wasn’t much of a match.”

“I would have beaten you, if it weren’t for your bullshit!”

Tak pricked up her brows at that. “Really? Cause from where I’m looking the ship you choose could probably be called ‘bullshit’. I however would call it more of a crutch.”

“It’s not a crutch! It’s a perfectly fair and balanced mechanic! Your ship was the one that’s unfair, it completely counters anything I could throw at it.”

“Why didn’t you pick a ship that was better equipped at fighting it then? I choose the same ship twice.” She removed the gloves to the simulation and got out of her seat while saying this, as indifferent towards him as was physically possible.

“Because I don’t need bullshit like you to kick your ass!”

“Evidently you do, or else you would have won.” She ended their conversation honestly, but her opponent didn’t appreciate it and was now spewing Earth profanities at her as she went away, which she did not care to pay attention to. She wasn’t upset at the profanities, it just made him that much more annoying, but she did feel sorry for him. She knew his emotions would only distract him and never let him improve, and just thinking about that concept made her stomach turn over. The crowd that had surrounded them during their battled seemed to be disappointed and pitied her opponent, but knowing humans she doubted it was for the same reason as her.

“Come along Mimi, let’s find Dib. I’ve had enough of this place.” Her loyal SIR unit, disguised as a cat, followed her in suit after collecting tickets that came from her machine, the purpose of which, still eluded Tak. She then made her way through the crowded and began the search for her big-headed boyfriend.

She had agreed to come to this arcade at request of Dib in hopes of having a “normal” date night. “You know without fighting off intergalactic threats, or hunting paranormal creatures, or having to make sure Zim doesn’t blow up the universe with one of his inane schemes.” She could hear him speak in her memory, and she still didn’t understand what was so much better about a “normal” date. Those fights were at least exciting and even if the enemy was smelly or annoying she was allowed to hit them. The bigfeet stalking he took her on typically ended in the two of them just walking through the forest and talking about anything, which was perfect as far as she was concerned. And not having to worry about Zim depended on Zim, and the probability of him taking a night off to make sure he didn’t spoil their night was about as likely as either one of them ever being allowed within a parsec of Irk again. Their entire night had been a let down from the beginning. As soon as they had set foot into the arcade she was overcome by the smell of old popcorn and stale candy, with jarring sound effects coming from every corner she looked. The dim lights contrasted by the bright consoles reminded her of a miserable city-planet she saw long ago, and the patrons where just as charming as they were clean.

Dib had tried to win her over when he saw how disappointed she knew she looked, he tried to tell her that the real attraction to the place were the games, not the ambiance. Though she had trouble seeing how any of the games could pass for recreation. The first game he brought them to was called “Sky Ball” or some other such nonsense, the purpose of which entailed rolling balls up a ramp into goal posts. While that may have proven a challenge for humans an Irken smeet could probably play that game, and she had been able to beat Dib with a perfect score using fundamental physics. Not to say Dib did horrible, but not perfect. Another game they played involved a battle simulation and Tak was confused how such a thing was meant as recreation and not military training. Another one involved playing as a yellow circle gathering pixels while avoiding ghosts, or one of Dib’s other interests, that clearly followed a predefined path, and so were easily avoidable to the point where she could have beaten the game in her sleep. Every other game they played followed suit similarly, if Tak was playing she found it either too easy or uninteresting, and if they played together Dib didn’t provide an adequate challenge for her. She was very happy that losing didn’t seem to bother Dib too much, definitely not as much as the human she just beat. Eventually he was just as bored by the arcade as she was and the two of them left to the food court section of the arcade to sit down and eat. Dib ordered a plate of nachos for them to split which were adequate except for the cheese which tasted more like syrup than cheese, and she had gagged on it. She then tried to wash it down with a drink from there which she nearly threw back up from the taste and way it burned her throat. While she had spent some time on the planet and built up a resistance to its filth, it didn’t do too much to help. Dib freaked out more than she did and probably would have carried her all the way back to her base if she let him. Tak was able to compose herself though and told him she was fine, but having had enough of their food she told him she needed a moment to walk it off. It was during that time that she ran into the apparent “champion” of the ship battle simulator, which she of course found to be anything but.

Right now she was exhausted of the arcade and just wanted to find Dib and maybe enjoy the walk home together. She made her way back to the food court but was only able to find the empty table they sat at before she left. She was just about to call him and save herself the time looking for him when Mimi grabbed her attention and pointed to familiar trench coat at the far end of the food court. Dib was on a small platform connected to a console doing what she assumed (and dreaded) was some sort of Earth dance, but it seemed that he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be fluid or firm in his movements. His feet were moving up and down the platform in a sporadic manner, but his upper body for the most part wasn’t doing all too much except for when he occasionally brought up his arms for emphasis of a move. While normally she would have been annoyed at him making a fool of himself, after the fiasco their date night had been it was refreshingly humorous. Still, she wasn’t in the mood to stay there any longer than she had to and made her way over to him. As she got closer she could make out on the main screen was a series of arrows overlaid on graphics scrolling from the bottom of the screen to the top and on the platform were corresponding symbols. Blasting out of the consoles speakers was the most jarring music Earth had to offer. So her fears were right and it was a dancing simulator, if the humans could even call it dancing. She approached Dib just as the music was reaching its climax and didn’t try to hide the bewilderment in her voice.

“What on Irk are you doing?”

Dib was caught off guard and immediately spun around to her voice. “Tak! Are you feeling better now?” He was leaning over the guardrails on the platform, evidently a little tired out from his excursion.  

“I’m fine.” She answered tersely, “But I’m ready to leave. I’ve had enough of this arcade.” She was looking past Dib at the machine, unable to hide her sickening curiosity of it. “What is this ridiculous contraption?”

“This? It’s DDR. Do you want to play a round before we go?”

Tak double checked herself to make sure she heard him correctly. “Are you serious? I just told you I’m ready to leave, I’m not in the mood for ‘a round’ of another one of your dumb Earth games!”

“Yeah, but…This one’s different.” Dib pointed behind him as he spoke sheepishly to her.

“Different?”

“Yeah all the other games we’ve played have been pretty straight forward. Applying physics, shooting stuff, avoiding AI patterns-”

“-Basic combat strategies.”

“Which one did we play that was about that?”

“I was playing against someone else when I went for my walk. It’s not important.” She waved her hand away as she said this, brushing the subject aside. “How is this one different?”

“Well this game is really about testing timing and coordination, you have to keep your feet to the beat, and also you need the stamina to last till the end of the song. So really its more about your physical fitness than anything else. This is also probably the game I’m the best at here, it’s the only one I’ve ever been able to beat Gaz on.”

“You’ve beaten Gaz on this?” Tak’s interest was piqued, Gaz was incredibly skilled at video games and on the few ones she liked to play against her Gaz always provided an excellent challenge. Gaz hadn’t beaten her every time they played of course, Tak was constantly improving herself and knew it was only a matter of time before she could beat Gaz consistently.

“Yeah, really just because she doesn’t really like this game.”

Tak knew Dib had an ego, but she also noted he tried to diminish it when he was hanging out with her, which she thought was sweet and also good for him. She felt better about not telling him this, in case it would counteract the attempt he was making.

“Well I still don’t know if I want to play this.” Tak said standing with her arms crossed staring at the machine.

Dib grew a grin after she this, “You’re interested in it though.”

“I’m not.”

“Ah, see? There’s that Irken stubbornness I’ve come to admire.”

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m just not interested.” Tak said this even though she was interested in the game a little bit, if only because Dib said he was able to beat Gaz at it, and that is was different from everything else she tried tonight. Even while thinking this, she still wasn’t sure she was interested enough to try it.

“Come on, we’ll play one game and then I’ll walk you home.”

“One game?” Tak asked still folding her arms over her chest, but saying and doing not much else.

“One game. And then I’ll take you home or anywhere else you want to go for the night.”

Tak stood there weighing her options, and eventually it seemed to Dib that Tak’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Fine.” She dragged out, “One game, then take me home.”

Dib did a small fist-pump after hearing this and started setting up the machine.

“The game’s really simple Tak. I’m going to pick a song and on the screen arrows are going to scroll up. When they reach their outlines at the top you just press the matching buttons on the floor. You get extra points for staying in rhythm so if Irkens have any sense of that you’ll have to show me tonight.”

“We don’t have music on Irk Dib, any such distractions are viewed as detrimental to productivity. And so doesn’t go well for the Empire. Even so, I doubt this will be an issue for me.”

Dib made a small raspberry, “Wow. You Irkens really are a happy bunch? I’m honestly surprised Zim’s one of your species.”

“Dib. It’s bad enough for me that you interact with him when we’re all in the same room. Please don’t make this date even worse than it’s already been by bringing him up.”

Dib rolled his eyes at that but didn’t say anything further to the point. “Do you care which song I pick then?” He said this as he took off his trench coat and hanged it on the platform railing.

“They’re all equally hideous to me Dib, but pick something with a bit less ‘pop’ in it. I find those kinds of songs completely unbearable.”

“This one is probably more your style then.” Dib said as he choose the song on the menu, “Techno-Something” or some other nonsense Tak didn’t bother to read. Before they completed the setup Dib noticed Tak taking a long look over the screen then was usually normal for her.

“This should be easy Dib.”

“Don’t sound too sure of yourself Tak, you know I’m full of surprises.”

She grinned slyly at that but didn’t say anything. Dib asked her a final time if she was ready, and after she said she was the game started and a techno mashup blasted through the speakers. It wasn’t one of Dib’s favorite songs, and it didn’t help that the track had a difficult sequence in the beginning. He was putting in his all regardless, and was able to do decent at first but noticed a fall in his quality as the song drew on.

“What’s a matter sweet Dibble, getting tired already?” Tak cooed over to him.

Dib was so focused on his own screen that he hadn’t looked over to Tak at all, when he did he was stunned to see her screen performing a perfect score but her not moving at all. More so from the shock he hunched over and grasped for breath while asking how she was doing that. Then Dib was reminded that his girlfriend was an Irken Invader. She let out a laugh that would send him into a panic if he still thought of her as an enemy. While she was doing so he saw her pak legs fade in and out of visibility as they flawlessly performed the sequence on the screen.

“That’s cheating Tak.” Was all Dib could say.

“Cheating? I’m not cheating. I’m just using my own advantages to my benefit. It’s not my fault you’re a weak human.”

“Yeah but the purpose of the game is to use your own body. I could probably disassemble this whole thing and reprogram it to always give me a perfect game, but I wouldn’t be actually playing the game at that point. Same as you using your pak to play it for you.”

“Yeah, well too bad. Looks like neither of us are playing now, so there’s no point in arguing over technicalities. And I believe our agreement was you’d take me home after we were done. So let’s get going.”

Tak stepped off the platform as she said this and began walking away before Dib interrupted her.

“It’s okay Tak, I get that you need a crutch.” She didn’t say anything but she stopped in her tracks and visibly tighten. “I mean hell, if I had a robot backpack attached to me my whole life, and I depended on it to do all my physical work for me, I don’t think I’d feel too confident in my ability to play this game either. But hey like you said, we’re not playing anymore. But don’t worry we won’t be coming back here so you won’t have to worry about this catching up to you.”

Dib stepped off the platform as he said this and went next to Tak after he grabbed his trench coat off the guard rail. He could see her shaking slightly, he thought from anger, and was worried for a second that he may have touched a sore spot for her. His concern didn’t last after she spoke to him.

“Dib. Make no mistake. I am way stronger, faster, and more agile than you.”

“Right, which you totally just proved.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you!” She said spinning around to him. The anger in her voice would have sent him into a panic years ago but since then he’s learned a thing or two about her.

“Oh what’s a matter? The little Irken’s afraid of losing to the human.” He teased her.

The two of them were both facing each other as they talked, and Tak after hearing this came close to him and forcefully pointed into Dib’s chest repeatedly for emphasis as she said,

“Never call me little. Ever. Again.”

“Alright, alright.” Dib laughed off. “The very tall, smart, and pretty Irken is afraid of losing to the small, dumb, ugly human.”

Dib leaned over her as he said this and even picked himself slightly off his tippy toes for a moment. Dib was a good bit taller than she was even with how tall she had become while staying on Earth. Tak hated the fact that Dib had grown to be so tall, and hated that she liked it so much.

“You don’t really mean your pak does all the work for you.” Dib tried to say this as smoothly as he possibly could.

Tak backed away from him for a moment and squinted while bringing her hand to her eyes. “Dib, I know exactly what you’re trying to do-”

“-and it’s working?!” Dib interrupted her sounding very hopeful.

She brought her hand over her head and brushed it through her hair. “You are the most annoying human on this planet, and the second most annoying thing overall.”

“Careful Tak, keep talking like that and you’ll end up making my ego bigger than yours.”

“Please. It’s only an ego if you can’t back it up.” Without another word she stretched herself and stood back up on the platform, the previous song having already ended while they were talking.

“Let’s just get this over with. I don’t care what song you pick. Let me just beat you so we can both go home.”

“If that’s the case then I’m going to pick my favorite song on here. I want to give you a real challenge.”

“If you manage to actually do that, that’ll be the biggest surprise this evening.”

Dib glared at that but didn’t say anything related to it. He set up the game and the two of them were preparing themselves.

“And no cheating this time.” Dib said.

“I don’t need to.” Tak hissed out.

There was silence between the two of them as the game counted down before beginning, and Tak could feel the tension between the two of them growing unbearable. Right before it did Dib said playfully,

“I love you Tak!”

Tak was caught off guard by his statement, if only because she didn’t know if he meant it sincerely, if he was just loosening the tension by being weird, or if he was trying to distract her. She was ready to say something in response, what she was going to say she wasn’t sure, but she was interrupted by the start of the round before she could say anything. A gushy pop song blasted through the speakers, it seemed Dib was throwing all the cards against her now, but she was more determined to win now than she had been before in a very long time. The first opening seconds of the song was easy as all the movements followed a predictable sequence, and Tak was able to land all the movements. She noticed she wasn’t earning a perfect score, as the system indicated she hit the correct buttons but not in “beat”, which she now assumed was a more precise timing.

“This is your song Dib? I’m falling asleep here, if that was your plan it’s working.”

“Don’t boast too soon Tak, it’s about to heat up.”

Not a second after Dib said this, the music faded from its current style to a rest. Tak thought it sounded like the low rumblings before an avalanche, and then the song blasted into a crescendo. Tak attempted to follow along but the previous sequence the song followed briefly in the beginning was gone, and the new one seemed almost random, and the music jarring to her. Her feet shuffled trying to hit the pattern, but she was losing all over the place, and felt clumsy on her feet like she had never used them before.

“Not so easy now, is it Tak?”

She could hear Dib goad next to her. She looked over to him for a second and found he was just as clumsy as she was, probably even worse. She didn’t say anything to this though, she just gritted her teeth and growled slightly while trying to focus. She would win this yet. She tried to recover and find the beat, but every time she got the pattern down it seemed the song would change it just to mitigate her progress. She found herself lifting her arms in emphasis of her movements subconsciously, like how she saw Dib do earlier. She was not going to give up, an Invader would never give up even in the face of total defeat. She eventually found a pattern to the madness, and while she wasn’t hitting every note the song threw at her she felt she was a far cry away from losing. The song had only been going on for a minute or less but she felt it had lasted ages and was already feeling drained. Imagine her joy when she looked over to Dib again and saw he looked more tired than her.

“Give it up Dib.” She started, panting for breath slightly in between moves. “I’ve studied your human physiology, your body can’t produce nearly the same amount of energy as an Irken. You may have been fine at the start of the song, but there’s no way you can beat me now. Without a squeedlyspooch it’s just not possible.”

“Yeah Tak?” Dib started panting just as hard as Tak, “Well it seems like your knowledge of humans is totally off. I’ll have you know we humans get what’s called an ‘adrenaline rush’. Which is this big burst of energy that makes us like fifteen times stronger. It happens all the time, and old ladies can use it to pick cars off of babies.”

“Really?” Tak asked clearly disbelieving.

“Yeah. And you know what? I think mines about to kick in!”

Dib picked up his pace for as long as he could after he said this to help the illusion. He wasn’t sure if Tak bought his bluff, but he could have sworn he saw her try to match his speed and swore under her breath. He couldn’t have chosen a better time to do what he did. The song had ended right when he felt like he would have collapsed if he went on any longer. The two of them weren’t mouthing off at each other after it ended, they had been too tired to do so, and where instead hunched over the guard rail facing the console panting heavily. Tak’s score shot up first: “C-”.

“Hah! Beat that Dib!”

While Tak had said this as boastfully as possible Dib could tell she was extremely disappointed with her score, and hoped it wouldn’t bother her too much later. Dib’s score showed up next, he wasn’t sure what he was hoping for before it came up, but it was on the screen before he could decide: “C+”.

“I… I won?”

Was all Dib could say, as he felt there were eyes burning into the back of his head. If any were though it wasn’t Tak’s. He looked next to him and saw she was still staring at the screen and watched her expression change from shock to complete anger. Dib wasn’t sure if he was more scared of or worried for her.

“Hey Tak, don’t worry about it. It’s only a game.”

He said trying to mitigate the situation but worried he only made things worse. She was breathing heavily, a look of anger still on her. She grabbed the metal guard rail and Dib thought for a moment she was going to crush it with her hands. She must have realized she couldn’t (or decided not to crush it) and instead brought her hands to the rubber padding at the middle of the railing and slowly tore that off, which Dib knew was no easy feat. Her breathing seemed to quite after she did this and Dib hoped she calmed herself down, but right after that Tak turned around and walked away from the console. Dib called out to her but she was ignoring him completely, and not wanting to lose sight of her he went after her without even grabbing his trench coat. He didn’t get more than a few steps before he tripped over something.

“Really Mimi?”

He called out looking around him, but Tak’s Sir unit was just collecting tickets from the machine. It gave Dib a quizzical and angry look as she did so behind her disguise, seeming to state she didn’t trip him but was happy he did. He got up and grabbed his trench coat before going after Tak, glaring at Mimi the whole time. He looked around and called for Tak again but she was nowhere in sight. He assumed she went to the exit and was headed there when he saw Mimi go off deeper into the arcade. Knowing Mimi was a bit more loyal (or at least more obedient) than Gir would be in a situation like this and that she had a sixth sense for Tak’s general whereabouts he followed her in tow. They ended up in the section of the arcade that had the older cabinets that weren’t as popular, and as far as Dib could tell it was just him and Mimi there. He heard a sound like something banging hard against the side of the metal cabinets and he and Mimi both went towards the sound. They found Tak, her head buried in a corner between a wall and an old cabinet, and she wasn’t saying or doing anything. Mimi went up to her and padded at her legs with her paws while mewing, but Tak did not respond in anyway.

“Tak?” He called out cautiously to her.

“That was horrible.” Was all she said.

Dib rubbed the back of his head as he said, “Really Tak it wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes. It was.” Tak stated this flatly, and Dib could sense the frustration in her voice. “It’s bad enough that I lost to you by two whole grades, but the fact that you weren’t in peak condition and I was means I would have lost worse if we were even.”

“I wasn’t tired Tak, that was me giving my all. And you did play really well for the first time. I mean, I’m nowhere near good at that game, I’ve seen people play it before that’ll destroy anything I got, and you really didn’t do as bad as you think.” Dib was nervous and stumbled out his words as he tried to cheer up Tak.

“Don’t fucking patronize me! You know how stupid I looked out there! That thing made me feel like I’ve never used my feet before!” Tak slammed the side of the cabinet again, and turned around to glare at Dib.

“Okay, okay Tak! It’s just a game. You don’t need to get angry.” He brought his hands to his face as he said this and felt a familiar sense of self-preservation taking over him. Tak girted her teeth and clenched her fist harder as she turned around to stare into the corner again.

“I am not angry about the game.”

“You’re-You’re not?” Dib said dumb founded.

“No. I’m not, I’m furious, but it’s not about the game. It’s about how much I’m letting this thing get to me.”

“I don’t understand.”

Tak seemed to curl inward of herself and became smaller before she spoke, “Irkens don’t get mad. Or if they do they don’t let it get in their way. The fact of the matter is that I failed, and when that happens one of two things follow for an Irken: you’re disposed of. Either demoted or removed. Or, you learn from it, and never let it happen again. I shouldn’t be so angry that I can’t focus on what I did wrong and how I fix myself. I should be calm, focused, and determined.”

Tak lowered her voice as she finished and tried to remain collected, brushing a hand through her hair, but Dib saw frustration return to her face before she even finished.

“I shouldn’t be thinking about how much I hate that game, and how stupid it is, and how I never want to play it again, but I just feel angry and I CAN’T STOP FUCKING FEELING THIS WAY!”

Tak punched the side of the cabinet again which made an incredibly loud noise and Dib saw it leave a dent that would definitely be noticed by someone later. Tak didn’t do or say anything else after this, and Dib didn’t know how to try to comfort her, or if he really knew what she was going through. Mimi stopped padding her legs after her final outburst, and went away into the arcade again, Dib wasn’t sure what she was up to “Maybe she’s giving us some time alone?” He thought to himself, and so tried to make the most of it.

“Tak.” He started awkwardly not knowing what to say. “I get it, you’re angry.”

“You think?” She responded harshly through her teeth. Which Dib thought was better than her just being quite, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yeah but I think you’re angry for the wrong reasons. I get, you know, losing at a game sucks. It’s normal that you’re angry about it, but don’t be angry about being angry.”

“I’m not angry about being angry.” She said this with a bit less malice in her voice. “I’m angry that I can’t focus.”

“Right which I think is dumb. What does it matter that you’re not set on getting better at a game you said you’ll never play again?”

“Because an Irken would never be like that,” Tak turned away from her corner to look at Dib as she said this, “an Irken would rise to the challenge no matter what!”

“Well you’re a far cry from Irk now. Maybe you should stop living like you’re under the Empire still. Maybe you should live the way you actually want to now and not the way they would want you to. Here on Earth you can do that.”

Dib thought what he said was pretty inspirational, but Tak didn’t seem too convinced and shook her head slightly before continuing.

“Dib, do you remember when I went to walk-off that disgusting Earth food? I said I was playing another game with someone else. The human I was playing against got so angry when I beat him. So angry that all he could focus on was how angry he was, when I could see, and I knew he could see, how he could have done better if he just looked at what happened objectively and not emotionally. That’s me right now, I’m so focused on my anger that I can’t get better.”

“Well…then I’d say you’re better than he was, at least you’re self-aware.”

“What does it matter that I’m self-aware if I’m still like this, that I’m still def-. That I’m still angry?” Tak turned away from him again into the corner, the faintest look of sadness in her eyes that was almost invisible.

Dib didn’t need to be his dad to figure out what was bothering Tak the most (actually he doubted his dad could figure it out, he never really was much of a people person). Dib knew the “D-Word” was a really sore topic for Tak, one she rarely ever brought up, and if she did she would never want to go any further into it than the length of the conversation brought it. So he tried to cheer her up one last time.

“Well then just be angry. The game’s stupid anyway.” This was all he said to her, and for a moment there was a period of silence in which neither of them spoke or did anything else. Eventually Tak was the one who broke the silence.

“I really hate that game.” She said this with deep loathing in her voice, and turned from her corner to Dib again.

“You’re not the only one, I’m sure.”

“Can we go destroy it?” Tak said with joyous anticipation in her voice, and turned fully away from the corner to face Dib.

“That’ll probably get us kicked out of here permanently, so no.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I mean the four of us will probably want to come back here again when we all want to hang out. And I know you’ll want to keep trying you’re hand at beating Gaz again.”

“I’ve already beaten her before.” Take said annoyed crossing her arms.

“Beating her some more is what I meant. Gaz would love to play against you on one of the games here.”

“I’m not playing against her on the dancing game.” Tak said almost growling, and Dib tried to back pedal to save himself.

“I never said you would. I said Gaz hates it too, remember?”

Tak still had her arms crossed while they were talking, and she looked more annoyed than upset or angry, so Dib thought she was better but not completely. Even while she looked annoyed she couldn’t manage to look at him in the eyes. Right as they were done talking Mimi came back mewing at Tak’s legs again, but Tak completely ignored her. Dib noticed she was holding a receipt paper in her mouth.

“What do you have here Mimi?” Dib said and reached down for her, and was pleased and surprised that Mimi gave it to him. He looked over it before showing it to Tak.

“It looks like Mimi’s been collecting all of our tickets for the night. I honestly forgot this arcade even had them, and we got over 25,000 to spend.”

Tak tore the ticket out of Dib’s hand and looked over the receipt herself.

“I have no basis for this currency. Is this a lot?”

“Probably enough for us to get anything we want at the prize counter.”

Tak tossed away the receipt towards Dib. He caught it as she started walking away.

“Is that supposed to interest me?”

“We could probably find a toaster or something for you to fiddle with and make a bomb out of if that interests you.”

“Dib, you know the device you call a ‘toaster’ doesn’t have near enough parts to turn it into a practical improvised explosive.”

“Well, you could probably find something else and turn it into something to prank Zim with next time we see him.”

Tak grew a huge grin at the mention of that. “Maybe I can find something to scar or frighten him.”

“So we’ll go to the prize counter and get something?”

Dib went up next to her and grabbed her hand. Tak then leaned into his shoulder and sighed before saying,  

“Do that, and then take me home.”

* * *

“Man… the ticket prices sure have gone up since I was a kid.” Dib said as he scanned the prize counter from top to bottom.

“Inflation is typically a natural course for an ungoverned economy, and this place hardly seems like the type to have any regulation.” Tak said condescendingly.

The two of them were standing next to one another, their hands still intertwined. Tak was leaning her head against Dib, but looked more exhausted than affectionate.

“Is there really a point to us being here still? I don’t see anything I like.” Tak said, once again not hiding her annoyance.

“I’m trying to find you a gift remember?"

“Gift? Last I checked Dib I earned us most of the tickets we have. Doesn’t that make you more of an Indian giver?”

“No, that’s when you give something away only to take it back later.”

“Whatever! My point is I don’t need anything from here.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been having a shitty night. I just wanted to get you something to make up for it.”

Tak sighed in resignation, “Just pick something quickly, and let’s get out of here.”

Dib was looking as hard as he could, but he wasn’t finding anything he thought Tak would enjoy. She liked to dabble in examining “primitive Earth technology” every once in a blue moon purely for fun, but all of them were in the upper millions. They did have a toaster funnily enough, but that was half a million, so also out of budget. The only items they could afford where the small to medium sized stuffed animals, and some other toys. Thankfully it was just the two of them at the prize counter and the employee running it was preoccupied on his phone, so he spoke to Tak freely about what she’d really use the potential gift for.

“What about that can of slug?” He said pointing to a cheap toy labeled Biohazardous Waste, “I’m sure it’ll burn Zim a little bit, or you could poison his lunch with it.”

Tak came to attention at his suggestion and was considering it for a moment but said, “Nah, I could probably synthesized something worse on my own.”

“Okay well how about that laser?” He said pointing to a plastic laser toy on the wall which boasted the ability to shoot real lasers.

“Really? I could make better firearms in my sleep. Even if I was just going to examine it for amusement I doubt I’d get any enjoyment from it.”

“Okay well how about that?” Dib said, this time pointing to a box for a cat leash with a picture of little girl towing a cat along. “It would help you keep an eye on Mimi.”

Mimi hissed and scratched at Dib’s leg at the suggestion, which prompt a small laugh from Tak, afterwards she said playfully,

“Oh, I don’t know Mimi, Dib’s got a point. You’ve been awfully rambunctious lately.”

Which earned a low growl from Mimi in response.

“So I’ll get that for you?” Dib said hopefully.

“If you want to sure, but honestly I’ll never use it.”

This was becoming a difficult decision for Dib. He didn’t want to get a gift for Tak, just for the sake of it. If he was going to get her something it would have to be something she’d actually want or at least used everyone once in a while. He’d might as well just get her a stuffed toy at that rate. When that idea flashed into his head, he thought that could work, so long as he got her something novel enough that she’d want to keep. He looked briefly at the lineup of stuffed toys on the shelf when he saw one he thought she’d enjoy.

“How about a stuffed toy?”

“Really Dib? I know it’s human tradition for the male to purchase a stuffed creature for his mate and it matches your theme of a ‘normal’ date, but that would be the absolute last thing I’d want from here.”

“Really cause I was thinking of getting you that one.” Dib said pointing to a stuffed toy in the shape of a flying saucer, complete with the traditional green alien sewed onto the glass dome. “Is does kind of match you.” He said teasingly.

“Honestly Dib that’s…” Tak sounded like she was going to berate him at first but after she saw the toy she grew a curious expression on her face. “…actually, I never noticed it before. But that ship design does look frighteningly similar to the style Žertians typically use, and the pilot doesn’t look too different from one of them.”

“Really?” Dib said with fascination before he took out a note book from his pocket and started writing down.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting the name down, so next time I see one of those on the radar I can call them by it.”

“I would be cautious before you do that, the Žertians are a pretty unpredictable species in how they act. They’ve taken to interstellar nomadism since the Empire conquered their home planet, and they’ve been known to abduct other species for all kinds of purposes.”

“Really? Well that would explain a few things if it’s not just a coincidence.”

“Hey are you two going to buy something or what?” The clerk said annoyed from behind the counter, still engrossed in his phone.

“We’re busy deciding.” Tak replied angrily.

“Well could you hurry it up?”

“We’re not preventing you from playing on your primitive little phone by being here.”

“Uh… are you sure about that?” The clerk raised his phone up to them so they could see it as he spoke but neither of them could see what he was doing on it.

Tak let out an annoyed grunt, but before she could say or do anything else Dib yelled to the clerk, “We won’t be much longer.” And then turned to Tak to say, “Do you want the spaceship?”

“No, but for the sake of getting us out of here I’ll choose one of the stuffed monsters.”

“You really want one?”

“Not really, but if I’m going to get anything here it better be something I could see myself actually wanting, even if it’s just to throw out later.”

Tak stepped away from Dib and went up to the clerk and said,

“Service drone-”

“I have a name you know?” The clerk replied.

“It’s not important.”

“It’s Karl.”

“Carl…” Tak said, bringing her hand to her eyes to squint in exasperation.

“Karl with a K.”

“The spelling of your name has no determinable affect to how I pronounce it. But, Carl with a K, I’m in need of an ugly stuffed toy to complete my date with my boyfriend. So show me the best stuffed monsters you have.”

“Uh, can’t you see them for yourself?”

“I don’t know what their significance is, so I need you to dictate them to me so I can select the superior one.”

“You’ve never been to zoo, or looked at these animals in a book before?”

“I probably have, but I couldn’t have been bothered to remember them.” Tak said crossing her arms with an air of indifference.

Dib walked up to the counter and said with only a small sense of concern in his voice, “That won’t be needed Tak, I can just tell you about them myself. What about that one there?” He pointed to a small stuffed black cat on the wall, which earned him another hiss from Mimi.

“Exactly, I have already have Mimi for that. Honestly Dib that one’s  a worse suggestion than the spaceship.”

“Well how about that one? It’s a lion, they’re hunters on the top of the food chain where they live.”

“Better, but too similar to Mimi.”

“The gray one next to it with tusks and a long nose? They’re called elephants and they’ve been known for their intelligence.”

“How intelligent? Do you have a written language or use weapons?”

“I’ve heard they use sticks and shit as tools, and might have some sort of language they use.” Karl said without looking up from his phone.

“I thought you said you were too busy to educate me on the stuffing’s?”

“I can still commentate.”

“Forget him.” Dib said, “How about that one, a honey badger right?”

“Honey badgers are the best. They just don’t give a fuck.” Karl said.

“Their nihilism doesn’t impress me. Next.”

The three of them went on like this until they exhausted all the stuffed animals they could afford, and Dib was ready to give up when Tak pointed out a small one they missed.

“How about that one?” She said pointing to a small rodent like animal, it was so small but it costed 27,500 tickets.

“The uh…muskrat?” Dib said, bemused both at her interest in it and at its price.

“Hey man that one’s a mongoose, they’re like super tough and fight rattle snakes and shit.”

“They fight cobras.” Dib said, who had become more irritated with Karl than Tak had.

“And these cobras?” Tak started intrigued. “They’re some genus of snakes, correct?”

“Yeah, they’re big, venomous, and prey on humans and other animals all the time. But they’re mongooses prey and they kill them easily.”

Tak pondered on what Dib told her for a moment, after which she said, “That one will do.”

“We’ll take the it then.” Dib said not missing a beat.

After he said that Karl finally got off his phone and grumbled something about ‘choosing one he had to get a ladder for’ and went into the back room presumably for said ladder.

“So why the mongoose?” Dib asked her once he was out of sight.

“I actually find it very similar to an Invader: small and unassuming, but a powerhouse within!” Tak said  bringing her hand up into a fist for emphasis, “Plus I do like its aesthetic if I’m being honest.”

Karl came back out, pulled the stuffed toy off the shelf, and ask them for the tickets for it. Dib provided the receipt to him and Karl was handing it to him when Tak came over and snatched it out of his hands.

“Uh? That still leaves you with 500, if you guys want anything else.” Karl said perplexed by Tak’s actions.

“I think we’re good but thanks.” Dib started but was interrupted before he finished by Mimi pawing at his legs. She then pointed to a small shelf on the counter with Gummy Bears candy.

“Gummy Bears?” Dib said in disbelief turning to Tak. He saw her intently fondling her new toy, and was distracted by his sudden question.

“Huh? Oh right. Mimi’s taken a liking to them. Get them for her if you don’t mind.” She said barely taking her attention from the toy.

Dib purchased them and presented the opened bag to her but Mimi let out a disgusted meow after he did.

“Oh right. She doesn’t care for the green ones.”

“Why doesn’t she like the green ones?”

“I don’t know why she likes anything. Just take out the green ones so I don’t have to hear her on the way back.”

Dib complied with the request sorting out the green ones in his hands, and was surprised to see Mimi eat directly out of his once the green ones were gone. He felt Mimi’s course tongue brush and tickle against his hands, and was surprised by how much detail Tak put into their disguises. Mimi purred with satisfaction upon finishing and even let Dib pet her. After they were done she went over to Tak, brushed against her legs, and purred again.

“Great. Are we done here?” Said Tak without looking up from her toy.

Dib said that they were, and after throwing the wrapper along with the green Gummy Bears into the garbage (and missing) the three of them left the arcade and began their walk back home. Their walk back was very uneventful, it mostly consisted of them talking about anything besides what happened that night. They talked about recent happenings at High Skool, Zim’s most recent hijinks which Dib had to bail him out of, that fact that Miss Bitters had died recently (which Dib still couldn’t get over), and that Gaz had entered into a video game tournament. They were almost to Tak’s home, but while they were talking Dib couldn’t help but feel like he was the one carrying the conversation. Tak had only supplied the odd comment here and there and was still very much fascinated by her stuffed toy she got. Dib was actually happy she was enjoying it so much, but he also thought is was uncharacteristic of her and was worried. So trying to ail his worry he said to her:

“You’re really into that mongoose I got you.”

“Huh? Yeah it’s strange actually.” She started saying, “Normally I’m very indifferent to any Earth toy, but this one specifically has captured my fascination. It’s like, I don’t know, like I have this gravitation towards this thing and I can’t help but fondle it.” Tak said while playing with it as she had done the entire walk home.

Dib guessed she was experiencing a new feeling and was relieved when he figured it out. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘adorable’. As in you find the toy adorable.”

“What?” Tak said looking away from the toy, somewhat concerned.

“That feeling you’re describing for the toy. You can’t pull yourself away from it and all you want to do is ruffle it a bunch. That’s you finding it adorable.”

“Adorable…” She said the word to herself  while looking at the toy and then her eyes beamed. “Yes! Yes that’s it that’s exactly it. I find this toy adorable. Oh my tallest it’s so adorable!” and then she giggled as she brought the toy to her face, playing with it the whole time.

If Dib wasn’t surprised already, he was now. He couldn’t remembered ever seeing her so giddy over anything the whole time he’d known her, but he wasn’t the only one to notice. Mimi went up to her and started mewing and rubbing up against her try to get her attention, but all Tak did was shoo her away. Disgruntled Mimi then went to Dib and started doing the exact same thing to him. He was very confused and asked what Mimi was up to, but before he could finish Mimi jumped right at him and into his arms. Dib brought his arms up instinctively and wound up carrying her, after which she began purring and caressing him profusely. He was thoroughly confused again, but pleasantly surprised as she rarely let anyone but Tak carry or pet her.

“Why are you so friendly all of a sudden, was it the Gummy Bears?” He said playfully to her, but all she did was purr louder to him in response. “Oh I get it. Somebody’s jealous, you poor kitty.” He said this and then brought Mimi down from his face and cradled her in his arms to pet her. While he was doing so Mimi was looking at Tak the whole time, who by now was glaring at Mimi with daggers. She stopped playing with her toy then and walked up to the two of them, Mimi was overjoyed at her coming over, but it was not for the reason she thought it was.

“Mimi here, hold this for me.” Tak said as she pushed the stuffed mongoose into her, and grabbing Dib by the collar of his coat pulled him in for a kiss. Tak always felt bold whenever she kissed him. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was a human, or if was because she was an Irken and Irkens weren’t supposed to kiss. At any rate she wasn’t focused on why she felt that way, and was preoccupied with exploring her dumb human’s mouth. While normally the planet’s filth irritated her she was thankful Dib’s bodily fluids never did, he body must naturally filter it out, she could still feel something when they exchanged saliva, but only a slight tingle. His teeth always interested her whenever she got the chance to examine them. They weren’t like hers, which where hard cartilage, but instead bone with slicers in the front and round mashers in the back. His tongue interested her the most, while hers was long, firm, and cord like, his was flat, soft, and so very warm. She felt like she could wrap her whole tongue around his. She imagined her tongue as a cobra and his tongue as a mongoose, and that thought sent shivers over her body. After a moment they separated from each other and caught their breathe, immediately after which Tak said,

“Who’s jealous?” To which Dib replied,

“I don’t know I can’t remember.”

Mimi replied with a low growl to both of them, and then Tak gave into her.

“Fine.” She drawled out, “Come here, and hold my mongoose for me Dib.”

Tak took Mimi in her arms while Dib held onto her toy. She cradle Mimi while petting and rubbing at her, and Mimi responded with satisfied purrs.

“Oh Mimi. And you say I’m going native. Just as well though, I don’t think the two of us will be leaving this planet anytime soon.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Dib responded slightly miffed.

“It won’t be, with the right company anyway.”

The three of them had reached the gates of Tak’s home as they talked.

“Guess this is goodbye for the night, I hope you had a good time.” Dib said.

“I didn’t really, but it was bearable.”

“Well I hope I’m bearable to you.”

“You are, most of the time.” She teased him as she went for another kiss.

She turned away from him after they finished, and she went into her estate as the gates opened for her. Dib stood by and watched her as she made her way into her home. When she was out of sight he began his walk home. He was going over the night as he did, he thought it went well for the most part, and wasn’t completely ready to rule out the arcade for another one of their date nights. A few days later though, it would be him, Tak, Zim, and Gaz at his house playing video games. So he hoped Tak wasn’t completely tuckered out of them, but that was for another day.

* * *

This fan-fiction was largely inspired by this artwork. Made by ZimGalForevah on Deviantart.

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [4/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47615902

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #gods in disguise #secrets #shield #undying love

First Chapter

Author's Note(s): This one's a little less polished since my computer decided to eat half the chapter and I had to rewrite it in a hurry, but I'll fix it later.

________________________________________________________________

How does this even happen?

It’s tempting for Tim to let his head fall against the computer console in his frustration.

A week in, and nothing. No reports of random people wandering around with a bow and arrows, none of his underworld contacts have mentioned anything showing up at on the black-market or at illegal auctions. It’s as if Eros’ diviners have vanished into thin air.

That he’s frustrated is putting it lightly.

Adding to that is the fact he hasn’t seen or heard from Jason in the same amount of time. The other vigilante finally appears to have found the tracer Tim stuck on him and sent it on a trip to the Gotham City dump. It’s both a relief, because it means he’s acting like himself, and a disappointment, because it means he’s still resistant to Tim’s help.

Apparently when he asserted the Red Hood would eventually reach out to him, he underestimated the exact amount of stubborn that is Jason Todd. He’d come to Eros about something, as Tim discovered when checking his now blank security feeds; the Olympian wouldn’t say what, instead complaining about rude capes and the obstinacy of men.

Tim scowls at the dot pixel pattern of static where the footage of their meeting should be, trying to get his emotions under control. He’s annoyed, because Eros is annoying, but also because Jason managed to not only get into his apartment undetected, but down into the Nest.

Yes, he knows Jason is a lot smarter than he pretends to be, but it’s a dart to his pride because he thought he was being clever.

He’s also worried, since something upset Jason enough to come here in the first place. And he’s hurt because he’d chosen to speak to the winged appetite that compromised him to begin with instead of the one person trying to help him right now.

He waited until I wasn’t around to come here. And Eros won’t say what they talked about.

Mostly to be contrary.

As for the reports coming in from the authorities cleaning up after the Red Hood in the past few days, his take-downs are edging toward the worse side of brutal once again.

Something must be going on. If he’s being affected, though, wouldn’t he not have the interest to keep on with his usual activities?

It’s been an almost physical effort not to approach Jason once again, to plead with him to just accept help for once.

Versions of that plan have never worked for Bruce or Dick—or, well, any Bat, really—so Tim doubts it will work for him.

It’s why he now forces his focus back onto Eros’ case, as futile as it’s been. He knows he’s has more difficult cases, but this one feels like it’s intentionally trying to frustrate him in a way even the Riddler’s games never have.

You’d think people carrying around a bow and arrows would be pretty easy to find, but apparently not.

The Olympian is irritating, even as he answers Tim’s questions. His story hasn’t changed from when he first told it—a trip to Amsterdam that didn’t go as planned, and then a desperate hunt throughout all the cities where Tim tracked thefts.

So far, everything lines up with the investigation Tim was running before and offers no new information.

“Are your diviners like you?” Tim asks, considering the giant map on his computer screen; a red line drags across the Atlantic Ocean, connecting locations on the bordering continents. “I mean, will they not turn up on CCTV or other security devices?”

It would explain why he hasn’t found anything yet.

“Nah, that’s just me,” Eros tells him as he flips through a gossip rag. “I have to make the conscious decision to not show up on camera. It’s a strain on my abilities.” He sighs, putting down the magazine. “I used to be able to go completely invisible in the good old days. Back when people truly believed in us.”

“And now you just, what, mess with imaging frequencies?”

“Pfft—Glorified camouflage.”

“Considering government reliance on facial recognition software, you’re still able to ghost the system. That’s something.”

“Don’t patronize,” Eros grumbles. Then he tilts his head as something occurs to him. “Although, now that you mention it, they can change forms.”

Tim stills. “…What.”

“Yes, to make them less conspicuous. You don’t think I wander around with a bow and arrows all the time, do you? Outside of a Renaissance fair that sort of thing catches the wrong kind of attention—”

“Why the hell didn’t you say this before?” Tim hisses, fingers itching with conflicting impulses to tear at his hair or punch the Olympian in the face. Luckily for the well-being of all parties involved there’s a thick sheet of bulletproof glass between them.

“Uh, one, you didn’t ask. Two, I’m the only one who knows how to change their form, so I didn’t think it was an issue,” Eros replies, ticking options off his fingers.

Tim takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it. “If you want me to solve your case and get your property back, you have to tell me all the information. Even if it seems insignificant.”

“Well I know that now,” Eros huffs; at Tim’s continued unimpressed expression, he rolls his eyes stands up. “Fine! Mea culpa. What do you want to know?”

“What forms can your diviners take?”

“Since they were forged to be divine weapons, they have to conform to their purpose. So they can only be reshaped into other weapons.”

“Any weapon? Knives? Brass knuckles? Mace?”

“In theory?” Eros answers, and then looks curious. “Actually, that’s an interesting concept. I might try those out when I get them back.”

His attention span is possible worse than Bart’s.

“Focus—what form were they in when you were in Amsterdam?” There’s no footage of that, because apparently that café valued customer privacy over possible security issues.

“Well, I’d just finished watching a James Bond marathon, so I was inspired. I made them into these sweet, gold-plated .45 calibre revolvers. Single shot, custom-design, monogrammed.”

And another breath…

“Which you didn’t think to mention.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that important?”

“Yes, it was important! How am I supposed to help you find your diviners when you have me looking for a bow and arrows, and they’ve basically become the Golden Gun?!”

“Guns. Plural.” Eros corrects reasonably. “And you’re a detective. It’s what you do. I already said I don’t tell you how to do your job.”

Tim’s heard that love is blind; it turns out love is also an idiot.

With monumental effort, he lets it go; he’ll revisit the shape-changing weapons on his own time. There’s other information he needs. “Back to the theft, though—is there anyone you were with at the time, anyone who might have witnessed what happened?”

“I was with a lot of people that night. And it’s not like those people are going to a pot café to pay attention, if you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. You don’t strike me as the fun one.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dig, “What about other Olympians?”

“What about them?”

“Could they have stolen it from you?”

“In theory, but I would have noticed. And then booked it in another direction.”

“You don’t get along with your family?”

“Do you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“It always is.”

“What about your wife?”

Eros tenses, expression going unnaturally blank. “What?”

“I started doing a bit of research on you,” Tim explains, studying the sudden change in demeanour. “Just the basics. But the most popular story about you has to do with your wife, Psy—”

“Dead,” Eros cuts him off, abrupt.

“But I thought she became an immortal goddess?”

“How many times do I have to explain that the stories don’t get everything right?” Eros sneers. “She’s dead. Point final.”

The message in his voice and eyes is for Tim to drop it; even as his curiosity grows, filing the information into his mental dossier of the Olympian, Tim can recognize a painful topic.

He lets it go. For now.

“So, no one was around? The coffeeshop, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Eros groans, body language easing out of it’s rigidity once more. He winds his fingers into his hair. “There was a pair of identical twins from Sweden that looked like walking Alps, and by the Styx did I want to climb those.”

“Gross.”

“And then there was the clingy redhead, the hot waiter with the manbun, one total MILF relieving her glory days—I don’t know, okay? There were a lot of people!”

Tim leans back in his chair, carding his fingers together. “What exactly is a god of love doing getting stoned in Amsterdam, anyhow?”

“Hey, I don’t judge your life choices.”

“I’m not judging, I’m just—curious. You’re not human, you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, without being tracked—can probably influence people to get whatever you want. And you decide to gorge yourself on pot brownies in a glorified basement?”

“You might not understand this, but sometimes it’s nice to go somewhere and forget for a little while,” Eros drawls.

Actually, I get that more than you imagine…

“That’s unexpected,” Tim offers. “Considering who you are, you’d think you’d be happier."

"When has love ever been synonymous with happy?" Eros challenges. “You know that better than most, right?”

“I’m fine. I’m living with it.”

“Not talking about your walking Alp, darlin’. I mean the loss you’ve gone through.” The Olympian is studying him now. “I can see the scars left over from every person you let into your heart and who left you. The boy you loved, your parents, your best friends, your father figure…and it’s not just death I’m sensing. You’ve had things taken from you, things you loved more than anything, just wrenched away.”

“My entire life has burnt down! Again! I don’t call this ‘okay’, Dick.”

“You have to understand—”

“Oh, are you still here?”

“What Earth are we on that you choose him over me?”

Even after all this time, it hurts.

He is uncomfortable at the reminder of blacker times, some fresher in his mind than others. He still has moments when his mind is trapped back in the days after losing Robin, after his father’s death, when he gets stuck in those memories and can barely get out of bed. It’s like sleep paralysis, except he’s awake, and it usually takes Dick dropping by his place unannounced or Alfred phoning him to remind him not to miss upcoming family dinners, to get him out of it again.

To remind him it’s in the past and can’t hurt him anymore.

But now, this latest thing with Jason has more than just the potential to hurt, it’s practically a certainty. In fact, Tim wonders if Jason being cursed to desire him isn’t just the universe continuing its general theme of dumping on him.

“I don’t need a replay, I was there,” Tim says stiffly, and decides he needs a break from Eros for a little while. In about three hours he has to get up and go to work, something he’d rather skip, but the old guard on the Board of Directors is getting up to their usual bullshit and he can’t skip the meetings today.

The rest of the week continues in the same trying fashion. When he isn’t working the case, going through hours of footage from various airports, train stations and other checkpoints for a sign of someone carrying any weapons this time, he’s at WE fighting a bunch of old, fiscal conservatives trying to undercut employee wages. Neither initiative seems to be going anywhere.

On the sixth night since the warehouse fight, Tim is running on very little fuel, to the point his judgement is starting to waver. He’s weighing the pros and cons of checking in on Jason again. He thinks he could probably manage it without him noticing this time. But then, Eros is taking one of his rare (and much appreciated) food-coma naps, which means some valuable quiet time for him to think.

The main computer chooses that point to blink to life with a message from the Tower, and Tim’s stomach leaps with hope that Cassie has something for him.

Except it’s not her that grins down at him.

“Superboy? Where’s Cassie?”

His best friend makes a face. “Ouch, not even a ‘hello’?”

“Sorry, just a bit stressed,” Tim groans. Apparently his exhaustion has brought him past the point of basic etiquette. He needs another Red Bull. “Hi.”

“You sound so enthusiastic,” Connor deadpans. “Anyway, Cassie’s gone to see her Mom in Gateway City. She said she’d be back soon.”

Tim nods. That makes sense, considering Dr. Sandsmark’s knowledge of Ancient Greek artifacts and mythology; he feels stupid for not thinking to contact her before.

“Hey Rob!” Bart shoves his face into the frame. “When are you coming back?”

“Might be a little while. I got side-tracked with a case here that’s, uh, time sensitive.”

“Sucks.”

“While you’re here, can I get some of those bars of yours?”

He thinks Batburger is about to offer him and endorsement deal.

“Are you pulling another case where you’re too lazy to get up and eat? Dude, we talked about that.”

“Also, those bars are gross.”

“Of course they’re gross to you, you’re used to homemade Kansas awesomeness that fills you up if you just look at it.”

“They’re not for me,” Tim interrupts. “It’s for a…actually—” There’s no other way to see it. “He’s my prisoner.”

His friends look impressed.

“Damn, Rob, are you going Dark Side on us?”

“Ooh, do they have cookies?”

“Ha, hah. And even if I was, everyone else has already done it, I’m due. But no, the guy’s a glorified witness, with the metabolism like a Speedster.”

“So, hell on the grocery bills,” Connor says with a nod.

Tim’s comm buzzes, the line from his cellphone; against the backdrop of his mask, Cassie’s number pops up.

“Gimme a sec, incoming call,” he says, and patches into the line. “Hey—”

“Everything he said is true,” Cassie interrupts before he can finish the sentence. “Eros, I mean. People infected by his blood only get worse unless treated—think the Henry VIII, the Manson family, or John Hinckley Jr before they were cured.”

Tim recognizes all of those names. “Wait, but they all lived afterward.”

“They were the ones who got cured. Other’s haven’t been so lucky. Medea killed her own children and set her ex’s new girlfriend on fire.”

The blood rushes from his face. “What?”

“I mean, all those people had severe issues before they got infected, which might be a factor, but if your victim already has trouble controlling their emotions…”

Cassie trails off.

It’s like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach. “How long?”

“Two weeks, give or take. It depends on the mind frame of the victim.”

A very real, visceral fury spreads throughout Tim’s body, anger on Jason’s behalf and at the spoiled godling that’s watching all this unfold like it’s one of his TV dramas.

“…Thanks, Cassie,” he manages to croak. “Call you later.”

He hangs up.

“Are you okay?” Connor asks; on screen, his body becomes more tense in response to Tim’s expression.

“I have to go,” Tim replies, tipping his cowl over his head.

“Need help?” Bart asks. “You know we can be there in less than three hours if you do. Two if we’re really booking.”

Tim considers, then shakes his head. “I—we should be able to handle this.” Bruce is never happy when metas show up without his permission, even when they’re saving the collective asses of the Family. “But I’ll keep you posted. If there is anything, I’ll contact you right away.”

“Good luck,” Connor says, still concerned.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, ending the call.

I think I’m definitely going to need it.

⁂

The sun beats down on him from its zenith, and he can feel his arms burning. The air is hot and humid, carrying with it the taste of the sea he usually associates with the Mediterranean, yet he’s still sweating in his linen tunic.

In his hands—browner than he’s used to, scarred but in a different way than he expects—he carries a wreath of laurel leaves, woven together with fine gold thread. In front of him, a giant mound rises out of the earth, grass and wildflowers covering it, rippling lazily in the wind. At its base, a thick column of aged marble, already falling into disrepair.

He should see about having that fixed before they head for Sardis.

Jason takes a few steps forward, kneeling to place the wreath at the base of the column; despite the heat, a chill moves up his spine as he presses his hand to the earth, clutching a handful of dry soil and bringing it to his lips.

“It is my privilege to stand at the hall of your rest, Honored Forefather,” he murmurs. “And know that I will do your blood proud.”

The words are less flowery than anything the priests and governors might come up with, but the sentiment remains just as genuine.

Glancing to his right, he sees a similar column several yards away, and another man is kneeling there with his own wreath. It takes him a moment before he recognises him.

Tim.

Except—he’s different: his hair is longer, skin darker than Jason can ever remember seeing, because Tim is supposed to be a pasty-faced nerd. He’s also wearing a red tunic and lace up sandals, and his features are much more relaxed than Jason is used to. No dark circles beneath his closed eyes. He mouths words that are lost in the breeze.

Jason’s own gaze falls there for a moment, taking in the flushed colour of his lips. Something at the back of his mind chides him for looking, but it’s lost within a burgeoning warmth in his chest.

He’s lucky to have him here, someone as faithful and intelligent and honest—

Eyes blinking open, Tim notices him watching; his mouth tilts upward in amusement, and Jason’s heart seems to beat faster. The smaller man straightens up, leaving his offering behind him and wanders over, movements as smooth as a cat. And—

No, this isn’t a good idea, he’s supposed to be avoiding him, right? He can’t remember why, but—

“What are you thinking of?” Tim asks softly. “You’re supposed to be making sacrifices to your ancestor’s memory, not staring at your liegeman.” He adopts a severe expression. “It’s distracting me from being appropriately solemn.”

Jason shrugs, fond smile on his own face.

“He was happy, when he lived,” he says, nodding at the column where he knelt before. “And fortunate in finding a faithful companion, and a great poet to sing of his deeds after his death.”

“You say that as if you have neither,” Tim snorts.

“There are no more poets of merit to speak of my deeds. Everything is lost to the logical, pedantic record of history.”

“And there’s the sense of drama I was waiting for,” Tim deadpans. “You could always write the histories yourself.”

“Hah! You would say something like that. Always planning, aren’t you?”

“Well, someone has to.”

Jason rolls his eyes, and gestures with his hand that Tim should follow him. They amble down a grassy footpath, returning to the level ground where their horses wait for them. There are guards spread out around them, close enough to help if something should happen but far enough away, they can’t hear what’s said.

He approaches the massive black Thessalian, absently patting the ox-head brand on its haunch with one hand while his other reaches to detach a large cloth-wrapped package from his saddlebags.

Tim appears curious when Jason hands it to him.

“I made sacrifice at the temple this morning before we rode out and left them with one of my finest sets of armour,” he explains. “They insisted it was too much and that I should take something in return. This called to me.”

Tim opens the bundle, eyebrows raising at the bronze shield that gleams in the sun.

“It was found in the ruins of the great city herself after the battle. It made me think of you.”

“Oh?” Tim watches him from beneath hooded eyes, a delicate colour blooming across the bridge of his nose. “You think of me as a shield?”

“I think of you as my shield,” he corrects seriously. “I will always be a sword. I can’t be anything else, or others would see it as weakness. But you…you protect everything that I am, even from myself. You throw your own needs and wants to the dirt to raise up mine. You weather the anger of men who believe themselves to be greater. For my sake.”

Tim appears struck mute at this, clutching the shield to his body as he stares at Jason with shining eyes. His mouth parts several times, as if he’s trying to figure out what to say, and once again Jason’s gaze falls upon his lips.

Tim shoots a darting glance at the guards near them, and something like frustration passes across his features, mixing with calculation.

And then he’s grinning that sharp grin again, and Jason’s stomach flips pleasantly as it fixes on him. Tim sets the shield to one side with careful reverence and takes a step forward until their faces are within inches of one another.

Jason licks his lips, expectation weighing heavily on him, and waits for Tim to break the silence.

“I think we should run a race.”

Which...was not the response he was expecting. Jason blinks at the non sequitur. “What?”

“In the old style,” the younger man continues, setting the shield on the ground and backing away. He’s reaching for the belt of his tunic, eyes sparking with mischief and something else. “To honour our ancestors, of course.”

“Of course,” Jason agrees, and reaches for him, but Tim dances out of his way.

“Ah, no! You’re entirely to dressed for that.”

He’s jogging backwards now, and Jason laughs, reaching again for him, “Get back here—”

“You’ll have to catch me—”

“Hood!”

Jason gives a full-body jerk, dragged out of his reverie by a voice that is no longer laughing, but tense.

“Red Hood!”

The world returns to him, gritty and smelling like rancid trash and smoke. There are several bodies at his feet and the smell of blood in the air; he hears groaning, so he knows they’re alive. That should be a relief, somehow, except he’s distracted.

There’s someone standing in front of him, the height and build familiar, it could be him, except the eyes are wrong and he’s younger and—

Not him. Nothing like him.

For a beat Jason is irritated when he realises the person in front of him is not Tim, because he was sure he just heard him. On the heel of that annoyance is the realisation that he’s looming over a kid that can’t be more than a few years older than Damian, who’s staring at him with unbridled terror, pressing himself into the walls of the alley.

New kid on the corner. Johns were harassing him, so I taught them a lesson, but then…

Jason’s hand lingers in front of his face, inches away, fingers curved like they intend to brush the boy’s jawline.

Realisation hits at what he must look like, what the teenager must think, and it’s soon followed by disgust because he knows the motivation behind his current position. He pulls back, staring down at his hands in horror.

What the hell did I almost do?

“Hood, look at me,” Tim says, only it’s the Red Robin voice, growled from the shadows, and it sends a shiver up Jason’s spine.

He immediately turns to face him.

The nameless teen take off at a run, but that’s not important; what’s important is that Tim is here, barely three feet away. He moves to close the distance, posture open and soothing, and Jason is already relaxing in response, twitching to reach toward Tim’s outstretched hand.

And…no.

He should not be relaxing. He should not be reaching out or touching Tim in any way because—

Because…

It’s hard to think why, but then he remembers.

Because it’s not him who wants to, it’s the infection. And he might do something worse.

Jason’s entire body seizes up again, and he stumbles backward.

“Hood, it’s okay,” Tim says in a placating whisper. “I’m going to help you. I promise.”

And Jason wants to, he really does. Wants to just go with him, maybe let himself fall against his body in exhaustion, because Tim might be small but he’s strong and could hold him up and—

“Back off!” Jason snaps, both to himself and to Tim, who jerks as if he’s been slapped. The sight helps ground him a bit more. “You are the lastperson I should be around right now.”

“Ja—”

“No!”

He takes off. Doesn’t bother with shooting a line into the air—his hands are shaking too much for that—and just runs. He knows this place better than the other vigilante ever will, knows how to disappear even when being pursued by a Bat.

And right now, he needs to disappear.

Grotty buildings and dark alleys fly by him as he crashes through the backways.

This is better, just one foot in front of the other. The icy air in his lungs is painful, but the good kind—distracting. Waking him from whatever funk he was in.

What the hell was that before? A dream?

But he was awake. And since when are dreams, or even hallucinations, so cohesive? Sequential? He knows it happened like he was living it, though he can’t remember exactly anymore. The details are drifting away like sand grasped too tightly in a fist, but he remembers feelings. Warmth. Safety. Laughter.

And Tim smiling at him; everything else is hazy, but he remembers that detail without difficulty.

Jason’s stomach lurches, torn between something fond and possessive, and the sense of disgust crouching at the back of his mind and spreading through his body the more he thinks about it.

He has to stay away—from Tim, from anyone who looks like him. Just until he can figure out a fix (or hell, even afterward, just to be sure). No, wait, he can’t figure it out. It would involve investigation, chasing down leads, probably running into—

No. Better barricade himself in somewhere. Take himself out of the equation.

Tim will be fine to figure this out on his own—he said he was trying to help, which means he’s aware of what’s going on with Jason. Which, yes, is mortifying, but also a comfort, because he trusts the younger man to figure it out.

He wonders for a moment if that’s because of the growing fascination, and then decides it’s not. Even before, he’s had an inexplicable amount of faith in Tim’s abilities to plan and get results.

It’s why he wanted him to be his Robin.

Why he still wants—

“Damn it!” Jason growls, stopping for a moment to breathe and then to punch the nearest wall in frustration.

The comm in his ear buzzes to life.

“Red Hood?”

Not Tim, but Oracle.

“Tell me you found something,” he orders, trying to get his mounting panic under control.

“Not yet. I’ve got a lead that looks promising, but still waiting on confirmation,” Oracle replies. There’s a pause, and then when she speaks again, it’s without the voice synthesizer. “Tim told me what’s going on.”

Shame hits him. “Of course he did.”

“We want to help you, Jason. This isn’t something you have to go through on your own.”

“Tell me that the next time you get shot up with Olympian blood that makes you fixate on Huntress or Clayface or someone. I just need somewhere to ride this out—”

“I can think of somewhere that would be well-equipped.”

The Cave.

“No.”

“Now isn’t the time for your pride. If you really don’t want to hurt someone—to hurt Tim. Again. Your best bet is to get B’s help.”

The kicker is, Jason knows she’s right. And he’s off his game enough that all of his usual arguments and complaints and resentments just don’t seem to register. All that he can focus on right now is Tim—and wanting to do everything he can to stop obsessing over him.

To stop wanting him, wanting to touch and taste and—

“Damn it,” his says again, but this time it’s whispered, almost defeated.

Bruce is the only one Jason knows that will do anything in his power to stop him from becoming exactly the kind of monster he’s been fighting his whole life. Even if it means throwing him in Arkham until whatever is driving him insane gets fixed.

And even if it doesn’t…

He’ll lock me up and throw away the key to keep me from hurting Tim. And I’d let him.

“He’s enroute to you now,” Barbara says.

“Is the demon brat with him?”

“Yes.”

He remembers the terrified expression on the nameless teenager’s face as he reached out to him.

“Keep him away. I don’t…know what I might do.”

Barbara’s silence is heavy, and Jason feels a wave of disgust with himself rush over him.

“I’ve told B to send Robin to rendezvous with Red Robin,” she says, and it’s Oracle’s voice again. “He’ll be there in five minutes. Try not to bolt.”

It’s the longest five minutes of his life.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[pathfindersemail]

Goodbye “Andromeda”

The following is a letter I wrote shortly after the Montreal Comic Con 2017 Bioware Panel. I sat on it for a while, but with recent news regarding the fate of Mass Effect: Andromeda, I felt it was pertinent to share this letter.

To the global family who created Mass Effect Andromeda,

I still remember my first ever experience playing a video game. It was a hot December in 1997, and I was still living in Manila, Philippines. We had a small boxy TV with a (maybe) 10-inch screen. That screen gave a pixelated display of my haphazard attempts at killing monsters with the business end of my rocket launcher. Doom was released years prior on the SNES, but it was a completely new thing for me. Me, a (at the time) 5-year old girl, mercilessly conquering over demons, monsters, and other nightmarish things. Macabre as it was, it was the beginnings of my thirst for adventure and of my need to be the hero of my own story.

Since then, I have played many games. I have been an assassin, a brooding teenage rebel trying to save the world, a ninja, a samurai, a street fighter, a car thief, a weird dude with a bandana caught in a plot too complex for my childish mind (not naming names, Metal Gear), a widower trapped in his own psychological nightmare, a well-endowed archeologist, an extremely taciturn physicist, a sith lord, a keyblade master saving worlds... I have been all these lives, personas, and characters. Yet in those myriad experiences, I felt something (for the lack of a better term) missing. 

I have since passed the years never really being able to point a finger at it. The sense of a void always came stumbling back after I had finished a game. I tasted power, fulfillment, and the close of a journey only to have it dissipate as a story that never really was mine. 

Fast forward years later to the fortuitous year of 2016, when Bioware offered its newest Game of the Year title for a generous discount. It was Dragon Age Inquisition. By then I was twenty-four years old, at the cusp of graduating with a Masters, and suffering from the nagging malaise of a rather bleak election year in the United States. I needed an escape, and seeing as how video games had so steadfastly provided that escape, I took the bait and played what would become the most important game in my life.

This letter is supposed to be about your 2017 title, Mass Effect: Andromeda, so I’ll keep this part brief. 

Inquisition was the first game where I was able to make someone who looked like me. Me: a stocky, 5′3 Filipino Chinese Japanese girl with unruly black hair, dull brown eyes, and a face rounder than a baby. Though many other titles before have offered character creators, they either failed to look “realistic” or ended up looking garishly alien. Inquisition’s robust CC made it possible for me to create a protagonist who could not only reflect a woman who resembled me (and people who shared my identity) onto an HD screen. She could also reflect choices, agency, and strength that are rarely afforded to what scant representation Southeast Asians have. I watched my inquisitor grow from reluctant, cloistered heroine to a capable leader who acted with both compassion and courage.

By the time my Inquisitor disbanded the inquisition and joined what would be the lost annals of Thedosian heroes, I inevitably returned to the real word. I was expecting that same, familiar void I felt whenever I finished a game. Yet it didn’t happened. Instead, I fell. I fell so hard for the universe. I couldn’t stop thinking about my characters’ companions, the friendships she made, the relationships she forged, and the love she has earned. I wrote, for one of my Master’s seminars, several papers (which my professors read with glee, might I add) about the resonances of Dragon Age’s in-universe permutations of tragedy and systemic oppression. I wrote about the importance of being able to interact and decide the conclusion of a narrative; to be able to weave a different kind of tale through games where the player could very much inform the tone and setting of a story. 

I raved about the game; I joined online communities to keep raving about it; and I produced what content I could to share with these fellow fans from all over the world. I didn’t just play a persona or a character; I played someone who represented what I felt was good about who I was; who acted with a conscientious awareness of what conquering and ruling meant for someone of a previously colonized peoples. It was liberating.

Shortly after my plunge into Inquisition’s fan community, a friend recommended that I try Mass Effect. Since I have already waxed poetic about DAI, I will also keep this very brief. I played all three games shortly after I graduated from my Masters in the winter of 2016. Within a span of a week, I cried, melted, died, reanimated, and cried again. Shepard’s story was complete and whole, and I felt that her accomplishments amplified what i felt about my Inquisition protagonist (especially since the demographic “Asian” had more meaning in this game than it did in a fantasy universe). As you might expect, I waited impatiently and obsessively for Mass Effect: Andromeda, during which time I wondered how on Earth could I have survived the wait had I been a fan all along.

There are many things I could say about my experience playing Andromeda, but I feel I should share with you the most important one.

Thank you.

Thank you for letting me create a beautiful, Filipina hero, who would pave the way for a new galaxy. Thank you for being the game developer who - after nearly 20 years of gaming experience - let me see myself reflected fully, accurately, and beautifully at the forefront of a compelling and epic story. Unlike the previous Bioware games I mentioned, my Ryder (her name is Sarianna :)) was allowed to be young, foolish, and happy. She didn’t constantly bear the yoke of border disputes and religious office as my Inquisitor did. Like Shepard, she was allowed moments of respite and impulsiveness - perhaps even more so than the older protagonist with whom the original trilogy graced us. As a woman who barely saw myself and my identity represented in media, I had a protagonist I could admire, respect, and contribute to the world (no matter how unnoticed she will be in future years).

One of my favorite moments in the game was the penultimate and high stakes scene of the Ryder twin (a Filipino version of Scott) fighting his way with just a pathetic pistol in hand to save his sister. Tears were brimming in my eyes when SAM offered a heartfelt apology at the sacrifice they were forced to make. “I’m sorry Scott,” he said. 

And the loving brother could only say, “I am too, SAM” before hitting that button with resolve.

It was a profound and poignant moment about family; about heroes of color who would do anything for each other; and about the fear of losing someone important to you. The fact that characters who represented Filipinos were able to call the shots, exercise agency, and bear the responsibility of leadership gave me so much pride. 

My other favorite moment was a romance scene: the drinks Ryder shared with Reyes Vidal on rooftop. It was an emotionally intense moment where two people were able to share in their vulnerability. Do you know how important it is for Latinx players to be able to see a bisexual Latino express the need for recognition, affection, and friendship? The scene broke my heart into a million pieces, because frailty can be a powerful thing and yet it is so often denied to Latino men, whom the media has wronged with constant portrayals of stereotypes of machismo and violence. Reyes was a phenomenal character, and I have to thank your writer Courtney Woods by name for making him possible. 

I also cried when the game ended, because I soon returned to that familiar yet now alienating reality where movies, music, and (for the most part) video games didn’t represent anyone with whom I identified. I cried, because my friends and I realized that virtually no one else is letting you wear your race, gender, and sexuality with pride and joy. I cried, because I realized that video games weren’t only cathartic works of fiction wherein I can project my fantasies. They were also fulfillments of personhood. It was you, Bioware, family who made that possible.

Now it goes without saying that nobody and nothing is perfect, and yet the rather disproportionate amount of harsh criticism and backlash the game received was... upsetting to say the least. For one, I felt like society as a whole was rejecting not only the finished product of the game but the potentialities and possibilities latent in such a product. I can’t speak of the technological feats Andromeda was able to accomplish (JUMP JETS ARE LEGENDARY YOU SHOULD BE PROUD!), but I can speak for the fact that Bioware is one of the few developers who proudly held up its fans as the driving force and motivation of their success. Andromeda is a beautiful game, and its predecessors were all masterpieces not only for their technical and artistic achievements but for their social and cultural significance. 

When my friend and I left the Bioware panel in the Montreal 2017 comic con, we immediately found our way to a bar in rue Sainte Catherine, where we reveled in the excitement of having seen the people responsible for our joy and passion. Over drinks, I lamented the wasted opportunity of not thanking you personally, so I do it now under the cover anonymity. I do it with words, because I like to think I am better at writing than I am speaking. I do it so I can express to you the indelible mark you left on my life. You gave me a hero who looked like me, and in turn I bonded with others from all over the world who felt that same happiness and gratitude. Yet we also spoke of our hopes: we hoped that people will take Bioware’s direction to further improve representation; to include people of color, people from the LGBT community, and other identities in the creative process. In the field of literary criticism, we often judge a work based on its ability to stage and engage with different audiences across geographic and temporal distances. The Mass Effect franchise was one such formidable work.

Suddenly those twenty years of gaming beforehand folded into a meaningless blur. None of them could ever fill the void of never seeing myself reflected in media. And, as sad it is to say with the recent news of Andromeda’s definitive end, I am not likely to encounter another. 

Thank you from the bottom of my heart,

L------ (aka @pathfindersemail)

[not-a-space-alien]

Your Own Side Outtake #10:  Foundations

Rating: G

Series masterpost

On AO3

Tick tick tick tick…

“Your move angel.”

The clock continued to tick in the otherwise silent room as Aziraphale sat there with his chin on his fist, thinking very hard.  “I know, my dear.”

“It’s been your move for ten minutes.”

“Let me think!”  Aziraphale leaned in, carefully studying the dilemma.

He reached a hand out. Crowley’s eyes flashed over his glasses. “Ohh, are you sure you want to try that one?”

Conflicted, Aziraphale withdrew his hand.  “Crowley, stop doing that!  This is why it’s taking me ten minutes to decide!”

“All right, all right, go ahead.”

Aziraphale reached out again, and Crowley sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ve had quite enough of this, you horrible serpent!” Aziraphale cried.  “I’m just going to go!”

“Nobody’s stopping you.”

Aziraphale reached out and yanked out one of the wooden logs in the stack precariously perched on the card table.  The entire thing shuddered, swayed dangerously, then fell over, scattering everywhere.

“Jenga!” Crowley shouted. “That’s three in a row!  Step up your game, angel!”

Aziraphale huffed, retrieving the fallen pieces.  “You cheat.”

“How am I cheating?”

“You’re psyching me out.”

They  worked together to stack the blocks back up.  Then they stared each other down in silence.

Tick tick tick…

“You can go first again,” said Crowley.

“No, I think you should take the first move.”

Crowley smoothly slid a block out and placed it on top.  “This is just like that time in 1926 when we had a chess game last seventeen hours because you refused to admit you couldn’t checkmate me with just a king.”

“It’s possible to do,” Aziraphale snapped, putting his block on top of Crowley’s.  

Crowley leaned forwards, studying the blocks like a puzzle.  Then, his eyebrows rose, and he looked over at the wall.  “Hey, your clock’s stopped.”

Aziraphale looked over at the contraption, which was now sitting silent and motionless, the hands drooping down to point to the floor.  “Oh, so it has.  Goodness, I don’t think I’ve changed the batteries since I got it.”

“What time is it, anyway?” Crowley looked at his watch. “Bugger, my watch’s stopped too.  Damn thing is top of the line with three different light settings and it can’t even tell me what time it is.”

Aziraphale got up and leaned over Crowley as he fiddled with his watch.  “Change the battery perhaps?”

Crowley flicked some buttons on it, and the surface illuminated.  “Aw come on, angel, I don’t use batteries.  Besides, the backlight and the stopwatch still work.  Wait…”

They both watched as the stopwatch on Crowley’s wrist flicked, repeatedly failing to make it to the one second mark.

“Bugger,” said Crowley. “I’ll have to take it to the shop and have it fixed.”

“I hardly think you need it,” said Aziraphale.  “What with carrying your mobile around all the time.  It’s like a pocket watch now.”

“Everyone knows you need a watch to be taken seriously,” said Crowley.  “…Though I see your point.”  He slid his phone out of his pocket and turned the screen on.

Where the time usually was, there was just a series of scrambled pixels.

“Hmmm, don’t like that,” said Crowley.  Hmmm, don’t like that was something Crowley sometimes said when his unease was inexplicably rising.

“Well, it doesn’t matter what time it is anyway,” said Aziraphale.  “We don’t have any obligations until tomorrow morning.”

“Right.”  Crowley looked out the window, where the sun was starting to dip low on the horizon.  “And we can just go to sleep when we’re tired.”

Their next Jenga game ended up lasting even longer than the previous one.

“Just pick one!” Crowley yelled.

“This is why you always win!” Aziraphale jabbed back.  “Because you yell at me!”

Crowley huffed. Aziraphale yanked a block, and the tower collapsed.

“I told you!” Aziraphale shouted.

“All right,” said Crowley.  “We don’t have to play anymore. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Bed already?  But it’s not even dark out yet.”

Puzzled, Crowley peered out the window again.  The sun hadn’t finished going down yet.  “…So it isn’t.  Watch a film, then?”

They ended up snuggling on the couch together and watching whatever forgettable film had been nominated for best picture that year.

“All right,” said Crowley when the credits rolled.  “I’m going to bed now.  You can do whatever you want.”

Crowley climbed the stairs, shedding clothes as he went.  He flopped into bed in nothing but his pants.

He burrowed under the covers.  The bed behind him dipped with a squeak of springs.  “Crowley?”

“Yes?”

“The movie was an hour and a half, wasn’t it?”

“Think so.  Why?”

“The sun still hasn’t set. Surely it must be at least nine or ten by now, right?”

Crowley rolled over and peeked out the bedroom window.  The sun had not moved a single inch since the first time he had noted its position. “Huh,” he said.  Huh was something he said when something bothered him very much, but he had no way to correct it.

Aziraphale reached over and the lowered the shades.  “No matter. Let’s just get some rest.”  He wiggled up to Crowley, spooning him with a smile.

“Sounds good to me.”

Crowley sometimes had nightmares about Hell and being tortured, but there were times when the part of his brain that maintained that he deserved good things in life overpowered it.  This was one such time.

Currently, dream-Crowley was sitting on a beach looking out at the ocean.  He was in his favourite suit, but he was not hot because the beach was cool despite being sunny, as dream-logic tends to go.  He had some alcoholic beverage in a hollowed out coconut in his hand, which he sipped through an impossibly loopy straw.

A cherubic figure walked towards him through the sand.

“Aziraphale!” said dream-Crowley, waving his hand to beckon dream-Aziraphale closer.

The angel came over and plopped down on the sand.  “Goodness,” said dream-Crowley, “This certainly is a vivid one, isn’t it?  I swear I can feel the sand on my feet.” He spread out his feet and wiggled his scaly toes in the sand.

“It certainly is,” said dream-Aziraphale.  “Goodness.  But usually in my dreams, you’re naked.”

Dream-Crowley stared at him. “I’m—I’m naked?”

Dream-Aziraphale blushed. “Or in snake form.”

“Well,” said dream-Crowley, “it must just be because this is my dream, not yours.”

“No, this is my dream.”

The two of them stared at each other.

“Oh no,” said dream-Crowley.  “Is this one of those things where one of us is going to disappear as soon as the other wakes up?”

FINALLY, said a voice from the sky.

Aziraphale and Crowley both looked up to the sky in panic.

“Was that Azrael?” said Crowley.  “Are we dead? Are we already dead?”

The ocean in front of them boiled violently, instantly roiling and covered with steam, and a huge shape moved under the water.  Aziraphale and Crowley cursed and stood, backing away from the shore.

The shape breached the water, dragging itself up onto the beach, water draining off it into the sand. It had wings and limbs like an angel would, but neither of them had ever seen an angel like it.  Grains of sand ran from its head instead of hair, and water poured out from its eyes, which were like two pinpricks of light in a gaping void of a sclera.  It sunk its fingers into the moist sand of the beach, dragging itself forward, starry wings flaring out behind it.

“Ahh!” said Aziraphale.

“Wh-who are you?” said Crowley.

The eyes disappeared and reappeared behind a blink.  CROWLEY, said the same voice, AFTER ALL THIS TIME WE’VE SPENT TOGETHER, YOU DON’T EVEN RECOGNISE ME?

“I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

The huge creature’s gaze remained on Crowley, burning like the cores of two stars.  WE SPENT THE ENTIRE NINETEENTH CENTURY TOGETHER.

Aziraphale let out a gasp. “S-sleep?”

“Sleep?” said Crowley wildly.

“Sleep is a foundation angel.”

The huge angel dragged itself closer.  I’M RIGHT UPSET WITH YOU TWO.

“Us?” said Crowley. “What did we do?”

TIME HAS STOPPED, AND IT’S YOUR FAULT.

“Our fault?!” Aziraphale exclaimed.  “Neither of us are powerful enough to stop time!”

Sleep stood upright, then kicked sand at the two of them.  Sleep was quite a deal larger than either of them, so it went right in their eyes.

FIX IT, said Sleep.  I CAN’T DO MY JOB BECAUSE BEDTIME NEVER COMES.

Aziraphale sputtered to get sand out of his mouth.  “Now you listen here!  We have no idea what you’re talking about, and frankly this amounts to nothing more than petty bullying!”

Sleep kicked sand over them again.  Aziraphale tried to clear his eyes.  “Stop that!”

“Look,” said Crowley, brushing himself off, “maybe we can help, but we don’t know what’s going on.  You have to talk to us.”

Aziraphale and Crowley woke up at the same time.  They both sat straight up, rubbing grains out of their eyes.

“What the hell was that?” said Crowley.

Aziraphale reached over and picked up his mobile from the nightstand.  “Oh, I think my ringtone woke us up.”

“Sweet somebody,” said Crowley, cocooning himself back up in covers.  “What a bloody weird dream.”

Aziraphale flipped his phone open to see a text message from Angelo that said Is this what daylight savings time is, or is that something different?

He flipped it shut, slid it back onto the nightstand, and curled up next to Crowley once more. “I’m afraid it wasn’t just a dream.  Sleep is one of the angels under Death.”

Crowley groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.  “I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”

Aziraphale looked out the window.  The sun was still hovering near the horizon, exactly where it had been when they had gone to bed.  Then, he flipped his phone open again to see that the timestamp on Angelo’s text message was made up of four empty boxes with a colon between them.

They ended up staying in bed for as long as they felt like, since Aziraphale no longer had anything with which to judge when he should get up.

Crowley eventually called it quits, because there’s a definite limit to how comfortably one can lie in bed when they have just been visited by an ominous figure in their dreams.

“I don’t suppose you have an hourglass?” said Crowley, sliding into his trousers.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” said Aziraphale, pulling his shirt on.

Crowley fastened his belt. “I wanted to see what would happen if we flipped it over.  Time has stopped…”  He tapped his chin.  “What about a water clock?”

“What?”

“A water clock?  If you try to measure the passage of time with something as simple as gravity, there’s no way it could fail, right?”

Aziraphale grunted.  “Let’s give it a try.  I’ll find some suitable bowls.”

Crowley slipped into the bathroom under the stairs, hoping to wash his face to try and rid himself of the sensation of sand.

When he turned the faucet knob, nothing happened.

He suddenly realised he could see his breath, and ice frosted the bathroom window.

“Ahh…” said Crowley, coming back out and finding Aziraphale in the kitchen.  “Think your pipes are frozen.”

“Frozen?” said Aziraphale. “Oh, dear.  It was supposed to snow today.  Er…”

“Today…” said Crowley, tasting the word on his lips. His serpentine tongue flicked out, then he dashed out the front door.

A quilt of snow was lain out on the sidewalk of Aziraphale’s shop.  And nowhere else.

Crowley’s eyes roved up to the square of clouds above Aziraphale’s shop.  They were still disgorging snow, and they were perfectly positioned above their residency to blanket it, leaving the buildings on either side untouched.

“Oh, very funny!” Crowley shouted up.  

A head with long blue hair appeared, peeking over the clouds.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

An angel with blue skin leapt down from the cloud, landing gracefully in the snow without a sound. She smiled, and her teeth were icicles. CROWLEY, I PRESUME?

Her voice was light and airy, the opposite of Death’s, but it held an edge, the faint threat that if you ignored her, bad things would happen to you.

“Yes,” said Crowley, trying to backpeddle into politeness.  “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.  I don’t know your name.”

WINTER, said the angel.  AND THE FIRST SNOW OF THE SEASON WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN SOON.  EXCEPT IT CAN’T, BECAUSE THE SEASONS AREN’T CHANGING OVER.  AND THE SEASONS CAN’T CHANGE OVER, BECAUSE TIME ISN’T MOVING FORWARDS.  AND NOW I CAN’T DO MY JOB.

“All right, all right,” said Crowley, with what he hoped was a placating hand gesture.  “Why don’t you come in and talk?”

Winter’s feet laced intricate designs of ice over Aziraphale’s floor as she followed Crowley in.  “Aziraphale, put the kettle on!” Crowley called into the shop.  “We have a guest.”

A few minutes later found Aziraphale and Crowley nervously sharing tea with the foundation angel.  Winter picked up her cup of tea, and it froze solid instantly.

“Er,” said Crowley. “So, will you tell us what exactly is happening with time right now?”

TIME, said Winter, IS UPSET.

“It’s…upset?” said Crowley.

Winter turned her cup upside-down, and the hunk of frozen tea fell out.  She picked it up and put it in her mouth, sliding it down her throat. THANK YOU FOR THE TEA.  IT WAS DELICIOUS.

“Sure, sure,” said Aziraphale.  “But, um… You said time... it’s upset?”

NOT IT, said Winter. HE.  AND YOU ARE TO BLAME.

Aziraphale looked alarmed.   Crowley suddenly realised that making enemies with a foundation angel might be even more dangerous than having someone like Uriel hate you, especially one as powerful as Time.

“But what did we do?” said Aziraphale.  “I’ve never even met Time.  I’ve never interacted with any of the foundation angels.”

Winter seemed to be seething.  TIME HAS JUST LEARNED OF LUCIFER’S DEATH.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale. “Oh.”

“Were those two close?” said Crowley.

Winter reached out and stuck her finger in Crowley’s cup of tea, which solidified around her finger. She then pulled it out and started to lick it like a popsicle.  BEFORE THE FALL.

“Oh no,” said Crowley.

I DEMAND THAT YOU FIX THIS, said Winter.

“Okay, how?” said Aziraphale.

I DON’T KNOW, said Winter.

“Couldn’t you go talk to Time?” said Crowley.  “I doubt he’d want to talk to us.”

Winter sat back and crossed her arms.  TALK TO HIM? TALK TO HIM?  FOUNDATIONS DO NOT— and here she lifted her hands and made air quotes, the icicle of tea bending awkwardly as she did so—TALK TO EACH OTHER.

“Er, okay,” said Crowley, veering away from that line of thought.  “Where is he right now?  Maybe I could talk some sense into him.”

Winter blinked.  HOW SHOULD I KNOW THAT?

“Well how should we know?” said Crowley, exasperated.  “What exactly do you want us to do if we don’t have anything to go on?”

I DON’T KNOW, said Winter, clearly very upset.  BUT FIX IT NOW.  IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SNOWING.

“Can’t you just, er, I don’t know,” said Aziraphale.  “Make it snow anyway?”

YOU REALLY DON’T HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ANYTHING WORKS, DO YOU? said Winter.  She pointed to the palm of her hand angrily.  IT SNOWS ON NOVEMBER 4TH, AND NO SOONER.  AND IT’S NOT NOVEMBER 4TH.  IT’S NOVEMBER 3RD.  AND IT’S GOING TO BE NOVEMBER 3RD FOREVER UNLESS TIME DOES HIS JOB.  DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?  

“No, he doesn’t,” said Crowley.  “But listen, if you can help us find Time, maybe we could talk to him and get things going again.  If you don’t know where he is, do you know someone who does?”

DEATH PROBABLY DOES, said Winter.  HE KNOWS THOSE KINDS OF THINGS.

“All right,” said Crowley. “Okay, I have an idea.  But it’ll involve calling in favours with both Heaven and Hell, and it might work, but it might also just get us yelled at.”

Crowley,

Uriel wasn’t too happy about it, but I did manage to look in the Book of Life and find the information you were looking for.  The next death that was scheduled to happen is at the attached address.  Stay safe.

-The archangel Victoria

When they sent the request down to Hell, Beth came up with her bags packed for a day trip, looking at the letter from Heaven unsurely.  “Okay, so we’re going to, what?  Go talk to Death?”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale. “And do you remember how when I was moping about because I had lost Crowley, you slapped me and pulled me out of it?  We need you to do that to Time itself.”

“Ah…” said Beth. “Okay, I can give it a try.”

The address Victoria gave them turned out to be, not surprisingly, a hospital.  Crowley hypnotised the nurse that tried to get them to go get visitor’s passes, and Aziraphale and Beth went into the room behind him.

A withered old man lay in the hospital bed in the center of the room, and standing next to him was a skeletal figure in a leather jacket.  Death was looking at his wrist.

“Ah, hello there,” said Aziraphale tentatively.

Death looked up at them, his visor shining their reflections back at them.  He tapped his watch with one bony finger.  FUNNY, HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE AT 7:39.  BUT IT’S 7:38, AND MY WATCH WON’T MOVE FORWARDS.

“That’s what we’re here to try and fix,” said Crowley.  “Do you know where Time is?”

DO I KNOW WHERE HE IS?  OF COURSE.  AND YOU ARE GOING TO WHAT?  TALK TO HIM?

“That was the plan,” said Beth with exaggerated bravado.

Death’s face would have been unreadable even if his visor had been lifted.  ALL RIGHT.  YOU ARE WELCOME TO TRY.  BUT I’LL WARN YOU THAT NOT ALL FOUNDATION ANGELS ARE EASY TO TALK TO AS I AM.

Time turned out to be sulking on top of a mountain, staring out at the frozen sunset.  Aziraphale and Crowley beckoned Beth to go speak to him, afraid to get any closer, and hovered in the background too far away to even hear anything.

Time sat on a ledge with his knees drawn up, twiddling a piece of grass in his fingers.  Beth came up behind him.  “Hello there,” she said tentatively.

Time drew his head up, but did not look back at her.

Beth scooted forwards and sat next to him, still too afraid to look directly at him.  “My name’s Beth.”

I DO NOT DO FAVOURS FOR HUMANS, said Time in a rattling voice.

Beth finally looked over at him.  He had analogue clocks for eyes, both of which had second hands that were flicking in an attempt to move forwards, only to fall back into place.  He had a sundial for a nose, set above a blinking display reading 12:00 in place of a mouth. And on his chest was a strange mechanic, two strips of metal bent into teardrop shapes facing away from each other, covered in tickers that flicked slowly around.  Clear water streamed from his face and down his metallic skin.

Beth took him in for a minute, then realised he might think it rude if she stared at him and looked away, back out at the sky.  “I’m not asking for a favour.  I just want to talk.”

Water dripped rhythmically from somewhere nearby.  GO AHEAD THEN, said Time.

Beth reached over and patted his knee.  “Why don’t you talk first instead?  It’s obvious you’re really upset.”

Time’s unblinking gaze fixed on her.  I DO NOT GET UPSET.

Beth shrugged.  “Sure you don’t.  I bet you never fly into a tantrum and abruptly quit doing your job, either.”

Time looked away from her. NOBODY EVER NOTICES ME UNLESS I STOP DOING MY JOB.  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE?

“Well, I’ve worked in customer service, so yeah,” said Beth.  “Come on, you can open up to me. I won’t tell anyone else whatever you want to say.  Scout’s honour.”

ALL RIGHT, said Time. I’LL TELL YOU SOMETHING I’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE ELSE.

“Go for it,” said Beth. “I’d love to hear it.”

BUT ONLY IF YOU TELL ME SOMETHING YOU’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE ELSE FIRST.

“That’s fair.”  Beth leaned back, palming the grass.  “I was kind of happy when my husband died.”

Drip drip drip went the water from somewhere on Time’s body, the only sound in the mountain air.

“I got to go up to Heaven,” said Beth.  “And my daughter was there, and he wasn’t.  And there’s a reason for that, I guess.”

Time listened without comment.

“And one day I got a phone call saying, hey, your hubs is dead, sorry about that.  And…”  She clenched her fists.  “And I just felt guilty, because I knew I should feel sad, but I didn’t, I just felt relieved.”  She laughed a little.  “I guess I don’t need to complain about feeling like a monster to a guy with clocks for eyes.”

Time did not respond.

“And then…and then they told me that my daughter had been in the car with him, and…”  Tears welled in Beth’s eyes.  “And that’s when it came crashing down on me.  When someone you care about so much, just…”  She snapped her fingers.  “Just like that.  Gone.”  She smiled.  “There, I’ve done my part.  Now, what were you going to tell me?”

One of Time’s spindly fingers came up and traced the metallic design on his chest.  I KNEW THAT ARMAGEDDON WOULD NOT PROCEED AT THE APPOINTED TIME AS SOON AS IT WAS ANNOUNCED.

“Really?” said Beth.

I HAVE ACCESS TO ALL HUMAN-CREATED METHODS OF TIME-KEEPING, said Time.  AND THIS DESIGN ON MY CHEST IS A PIECE THAT HAS NOT BEEN INVENTED YET.

Beth looked at the wire frame welded to his chest, noting the ticker marks flipping over.  She had no guess as to how to read it.  “That’s really interesting.”

NOW I WOULD LIKE TO ASK YOU A QUESTION, said Time.  AND IN RETURN YOU MAY ASK ME A QUESTION.

“That’s fair.”

WHY WERE YOU RELIEVED TO SEE A LOVED ONE DIE?  IT IS ILLOGICAL.

She played with a bit of grass she had ripped up.  “Because I was starting to loathe him.  Because I was older, and only just then realizing how bad he was for me.  But you should know that feelings don’t always make sense.”

AND YOUR DAUGHTER? said Time.  DID YOU LOATHE HER?

“No,” said Beth.  “She was one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

THEN HOW DID YOU DEAL WITH LOSING HER?

Beth smiled.  “Hey, we said one question, didn’t we?”  

Time drew his knees closer to himself.

“So now I’ll ask you one: Why did you stop time?”

Time stared out at the distance.  BECAUSE SEEING THE SUNSET WOULD BE TOO PAINFUL FOR ME.

Beth reached out and put a hand on top of his.  “And why’s that?”

WE AGREED ONE QUESTION.

“All right,” said Beth. “Then I’ll answer one more.  I delt with losing her by accepting that I was living in a world without her, a world that was a little darker, a little more lonely. But a world nonetheless.”

A LITTLE DARKER, said Time, staring out at the sun.

“Yes.”

LUCIFER’S NAME MEANS “LIGHT-BEARER.”  DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID BEFORE HE FELL?

“What?”

HE MADE THE SUN RISE EVERY DAY.

Drip drip drip drip.

“The two of you were close?” said Beth.

I MADE MORNING COME JUST TO SEE HIM BRING THE SUN UP, said Time.

“Then who’s doing it now?” said Beth.

I DON’T KNOW, said Time.  THEY THREW HIM OUT AS IF HE WERE TRASH.  AND I’M POSITIVE THEY WOULD DISCARD ME JUST AS EASILY.

“Aw, come on,” said Beth. “I’m sure they wouldn’t.  I mean, no one’s come to do it yet, right?  And they’d be pretty upset about you stopping time.”

I SUPPOSE, said Time. I WANT TO SAY SOMETHING ELSE I’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE, BUT YOU HAVE TO ASSURE ME YOU WILL NOT TELL ANYONE ELSE.

“I won’t.  Scout’s honour.”

BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL ME ONE MORE THING YOU’VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE ELSE.

“I’m actually fresh out of deep, dark secrets,” said Beth.  “Sorry.”

OH, said Time.

Drip drip drip

“You won’t just tell me anyway?”

NO.

Beth sighed and leaned back. “All right.  There’s one thing.  My last deep, dark secret I’ve never told anyone.  You’re sure you want to hear it?”

YES.

Beth stretched her legs out. “When I was a kid, I had a really, really intense crush on Kovu from The Lion King II.”

Time did not respond.

“You never said it had to be something you understood.”

ALL RIGHT, said Time.  THAT’S TRUE.  SO I’LL TELL YOU THIS:  LUCIFER FELL BECAUSE OF ME.

“Because of you?”

YES.  BECAUSE OF SOMETHING I SAID.

“What did you say?”

IT WAS ONE QUESTION ONLY.

“Aw, come on,” said Beth. “That thing I told you about The Lion King is really, really embarrassing.”

Drip drip dip.  Time didn’t answer.

Beth reached over and put a hand on his.  “You know, if you wanted to start time moving forward ag—”

YOU ARE NO DIFFERENT FROM THEM.  Time cut her off with a voice booming like a chiming clock tower, and when he spoke next every other word was punctuated by the bong of a clock striking midnight.  NO ONE IS INTERESTED IN ANY OF US.  ONLY OUR USEFULNESS, OUR JOB, OUR OBEDIENCE.

“He has a son, you know,” said Beth, arranging her hands on her lap.

The cacophonous sound from Time stopped abruptly with the sound of a spring snapping.  He looked at her.  WHAT?

“Lucifer.  He has a son.”

The hands on the clocks of Time’s eyes flipped up to the twelve for a moment before falling back down.  BUT IF SOMEONE LIKE LUCIFER WERE TO MANAGE TO BREED, IT WOULD CREATE A BEING OF INCALCULABLE POWER.

“He has two, actually. Two sons.”

Time faced away from her, refusing to look at her.

“I’ll take you to meet them,” said Beth.  “If you like. I’m not trying to bully you.  But you’re causing an awful lot of problems for a lot of people, and it’s making things quite difficult for them.  And I won’t be friends with people who make things difficult for others on purpose.”

Now Time turned to eye her up.  FRIENDS?

She shrugged.  “It sounds like that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? That whole spiel about no one caring about you?  It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.  I can take you down to meet Lucifer’s family, but only if you’re not a complete jerk.”

Drip drip drip…

Time looked up at the sky and blinked.  From somewhere within his body, a steady ticking started up again.  And Beth watched as the sun slowly continued its journey, sliding down the sky towards the horizon.

Beth did not say anything until the sun was fully obscured by the mountains and the stars started to wink on one by one.  Then, she patted Time’s knee.  “There, see? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Time leaked water from one of his water clocks without comment.

“All right, then,” said Beth, standing up and stretching.  “Come on, it’s a bit of a hike down.”

Aziraphale woke up the next morning to find a letter addressed to him and Crowley on Hell’s parchment. It was signed from both Adam and Noah, and when he opened it, a Polaroid picture of the two of them doing silly poses with a very serious-looking foundation angel fell out.

Aziraphale picked it up and smiled at it, tacking it to the cork-board above his desk.  Down below, the door to the bookshop slammed open, and Crowley could be heard stomping about, complaining loudly about the weather.  Aziraphale looked out the study’s window and saw beautiful, delicate snowflakes beginning to patter onto the windowsill.

[citylightslikerain]

This is my contribution for @emilyevanston​‘s Kate’ Cards Against Humanity Challenge in honor of her blogiversary. Congratulations!

My prompt was The World of Warcraft

Author’s Blurb: I’m so, so sorry for taking so long. When I claimed the prompt, I thought this would be peachy. But then the original idea I had for this turned out to be more of a multi-chapter kind of deal that’s now sitting on the back burner and I really struggled with finding a new idea. I kid you not, I started over five times.

This is my first ever het fic, so I hope I did alright.

Special thanks to @whatwasdead​ for the banner and for keeping me from setting my laptop on fire.

***

buff /bʌf/

1. adjective: buff; comparative adjective: buffer; superlative adjective: buffest

(of a person or their body) in good physical shape with well-developed muscles.

2. noun (gamer): 

a mechanism for increasing the power and/or abilities of a piece of armor or other equipment, character, or weapon

“Home,” I announce in a long, dragged out sigh, clearly defeated by a long exhausting day. Overtime at work and a late night spinning class have officially kicked my ass and I’m looking forward to a long shower, some good food, and if I can score a nice long back rub from Chris, you won’t hear me complain either.

That plan seems too good to be true anyway and I know it isn’t gonna happen when I feel what’s clearly an oversized puppy clinging to my back ten seconds after walking into the bedroom. Next is the tingly wet sensation of hot breath against my neck and the rough scrape of the slightly out of hand facial hair situation.

“Hey,” I murmur, trying to gather the willpower to pull away from him. I’m sweaty and smelly and I didn’t even bother to change out of my workout clothes before going home. But there’s a very tempting, very thick and apparently very tipsy Chris Evans attached to me right now and that’s a temptation I’m finding oddly hard to resist.

“I did it,” he announces in response, without even lifting his mouth off my skin, and I’m not sure if that’s in reply to what I said or if I should even know what he’s talking about. Until it dawns on me. He’s probably talking about that game again.

Scott.

Eventually I’m gonna have to take revenge on Chris’ brother for getting him hooked on World of Warcraft. In his defense, though, no one could have guessed how easily he’d fall for that.

Chris is on a break from filming and I have to admit that he deserves all the fun and relaxation he can get after another exhausting Marvel run and all the hard work that comes with it. Working out twice a day, eating enough chicken to make them go extinct, sore muscles, upset stomach, clothes getting uncomfortably tight. Okay, the last part may have been my personal hell because damn, I do have my own life to focus on and who can concentrate on anything else when there’s such a fine specimen of mankind bursting out of his shirt right there?

But anyway, we went on vacation, split up into two weeks of relaxing and exploring in Europe and a long weekend at, you guessed it, Disney. Then I went back to work and Chris was fooling around with a little bit of this and a little bit of that. But I could tell he was getting restless. Enough so for Scott to come into play. He suggested Chris should try gaming again. Apparently they were both heavily into it as kids. And to be honest, I didn’t expect much from it. In my mind’s eye, I saw my boyfriend slumped down on our couch, steering some virtual football player around a pixel field on the big screen with the kind of bored determination that he was showing with most things that time.

Oh, how wrong was I?

First of all, World of Warcraft isn’t available on Xbox, so Chris actually had to situate himself at the desk in his office. A fact which almost led to him aborting the whole mission before it started. But he did it, grudgingly so, and I admit that I was watching him with fond adoration as he first started the game and suffered through the painful process of picking first a side, then a race, and finally a class. Predictably so, he didn’t pick anything crazy but went with a Human Warrior which he made to look like him as much as he could. And yeah, watching him take his first steps in the new pixel world was adorable, too.

What you have to know about Chris is that he may be a tall, thick, bearded dude, but there’s a kindergarten kid stuck inside him. Excited and overwhelmed by everything new and never afraid of showing it either. I lost it more than once when he kept talking to himself, and being his own cheerleader. (“Come on, Chris. Come on, Chris. Steady...steady...YES! Phenomenal, bro!” Pumped fist and all.)

By now, the game has become a substantial part of his life during the break. He hasn’t turned into a zombie and he still finds time to spend with me and his family and yes, Dodger’s fine and getting at least twice as much love as the game, so there’s no need to worry. But when he does play, he really plays, getting completely absorbed. It gets best when he’s also had a beer or two. Because the other fact you need to know about him is that despite his size, it takes him very little to get a buzz going.

Which apparently is the case tonight.

I still have no idea what he’s talking about, but I know that if I indulge him, the reward will be even sweeter.

“Mmhh, my big strong hero. What did you achieve this time?” I turn my head a little to let my nose scrape against his bearded cheek.

“Found the kid, bought the kitten,” he explains, as if that was all the facts I need to know what’s going on. “Call me Crazy Cat Man, now.”

There’s a distinct memory of him telling me about some kind of achievement in the game that had him collecting cats. The purpose of which is beyond me but it’s something he’s been ranting about on and off for a while now.

“Fuckin’ Lil Timmy,” he mutters, lips and beard slowly working their way up to my ear where they capture the lobe and pull gently. At this point, I don’t even give a damn anymore who ‘Lil Timmy’ is or why he matters.*

“Good job, big boy,” I mumble, tilting my head to the side to give him easier access.

This time, his response isn’t a verbal one. When Chris gets like this, tipsy and tired, he’s a sucker for being praised for even the smallest achievement. Yes, I’m cheap enough to go straight for his weak spot like that but I decide it’s worth it when his thumbs hook themselves into the waistband of my yoga pants, yanking them down over my ass with a dark growling noise. I’m still sweaty and still gross but goddammit, this is hot.

He lets go of my pants without taking them all the way off, just leaves them there, halfway down my thighs as he starts walking me towards the bed. I shuffle forward like a penguin, without much grace, but neither of us cares. When my thighs bump against the edge of the foot end, he gives a gentle push and I go down willingly, bracing myself with my hands as I flop onto the bed facedown.

I know what’s gonna happen, we both do. It’s a rare occasion that we get like this, usually taking our sweet time with each other. And Chris is the more patient one of us, so it makes this moment all the sweeter. Having him lose his mind like this is one of my biggest turn ons.

When I hear nothing for a moment, I’m about to lose my patience. It’s a game, I know. Without being told, I know he wants to admire me laid out for him like that. I can only imagine what sight he’s enjoying right now. My pants are tight but they give me enough room for my legs to spread a bit and I lift my hips just enough to make sure he’ll get the perfect view of the round globes of my ass and a glimpse of my lips peeking out between my thighs. It seems to be incentive enough because a second later, the tips of two fingers are tracing their outlines, making me shiver, before they slip between them where I know they’ll find sticky wetness.

“Always so ready for me,” he whispers and we both know it’s true, far more than just dirty talk. It takes so very little for me to get all slick and ready when I’m with him and his kissing and teasing gave me a good head start.

His fingertips rub up and down between my folds. Occasionally, they’ll seek out my clit and rub it in slow circles - once, twice, but then they’re gone again and there’s no way he can’t tell how close I am to throwing even my last morsel of dignity to the wind and beg. Maybe he even considers taking me there for a moment but then he changes his mind and a moment later there’s the sweet scraping sound of his zipper getting pulled down.

I wonder if he’ll keep me waiting longer, until he’s fully undressed, or at least stepped out of his pants. But no, it only takes a second before a hand plants itself firmly on the mattress next to my head, strong, thick arm raising up like a pillar. I can feel the blunt nudge of his dick probing against my opening but there’s also the bittersweet sensation of soft lips and rough beard against my bare shoulder to focus on and when I finally feel the rush of warm hardness filling me, I press my face against the comforter and moan helplessly.

Chris fills me with one slow but firm push but then follows it up with a moment of stillness and soothing kisses. I know this is killing him, he can’t wait to start thrusting in earnest.

“Okay?” His voice sounds breathless against my neck, two syllables a challenge but he’s doing better than me. Because all I can manage in ways of a response is nod and turn my head in a weak attempt of capturing his lips. But the angle is weird, so my mouth ends up scraping against his chin. It is all the encouragement he needs, though.

My fingers claw at the comforter, fisting it tightly, in a futile attempt to brace myself against the assault of hard thrusts. Chris is never one to do the lightning fast drilling sort of fucking. His thrusts come at a slow rhythm, rolling in like waves, but occasionally he’ll use the time in between to gather strength to really thrust home. Every one of those hard slams sends a rush of heat and pleasure all the way up my spine, drawing sounds from my throat that I hadn’t been aware I could produce prior to meeting him.

Neither of us lasts long, nor do we want to drag it out. This is too good as it is - rough, primal, both of us meaning to take, not give. All it takes is a minute of this rough thrusting and humping. A minute filled with our shared moans and the obscene wet and thumping sounds of his hips, my bare ass and both our still dressed thighs smacking together.

I can tell that this is it, he’s reached his limit when his free hand forces itself between me and the mattress, grabbing my boob tightly and his thrusts become more erratic, fulfilling no other purpose than to drive himself over the edge. I’m right there with him, have been for a few moments already but I hold out just those few seconds more and only let go when I feel the first spurt of heat filling me. His moans turn into desperate little whines and I know I’ve served my revenge for all the teasing well, timing it so my muscles are gripping him tightly when he’s at his weakest. He’s told me before that he lives for the sensation of feeling me clench and flutter around him and I can only imagine what it must feel like when he’s at the height of his climax.

We share our declarations of love, no hard and quick fucks will ever take that away from us, but then we’re quiet. A minute passes, then two, the only sounds being our shared breathing and the small, quiet smacking sounds of his mouth still kissing my neck and shoulder. Magically, he’s still holding himself up so he won’t crush me under his weight and I strain my head a little to kiss and suckle on his forearm, the only part of him I can reach somewhat comfortably.

“So…” His voice is all sweet honey and wet heat against my skin. But there’s also a teasing hint and I’m bracing myself for whatever post-coital nonsense he’s come up with now. “How does it feel to be a hero’s wench?”

“Oh my god! No, you didn’t!” I wanna be outraged but I’m laughing way too hard at this. Still, I try to swat at him over my shoulder and when my palm manages to smack him in the face, he pulls away with a choked sound between a laugh and a wince, leaving me to hiss in protest when he slips out and leaves me empty.

I still think he’s teasing when there’s a rustle of clothes and the sound of his zipper again. “What…?” I struggle to roll over with my pants still halfway down my thighs. Narrowing my eyes, I watch him pull his shirt down over his pants. Apparently, he hasn’t even bothered to clean up. “You’re going back to that game, aren’t you?”

In his defense, he manages to look at least a little guilty, frown on luscious lips, eyes wide and still shiny from the orgasm he’s just had. “Babe,” he says and then again, in a slightly whinier voice, as if he thought he didn’t sound convincing enough, “babe!” He takes a break, seemingly contemplating as if that should be enough for me to understand. But two can play that game, and I just stare at him, secretly enjoying letting him stew. “Scott’s setting up a raid tonight. I have to be there!”

I give it another second or two, simply because it’s glorious to see his face getting longer, bottom lip pushing out more. But then I decide it’s enough and let him off the hook. “You’re really just my big baby boy, aren’t you? Go.” I wave him off with a dismissive little gesture. “I was gonna take a shower anyway.”

His mouth spreads into one of those ridiculously wide grins, all teeth and gum. He crosses over to the bed and kisses me again, wet and sloppy this time. “I’ll make my first kill in your honor.”

A second later he’s out the door and I let my head thud back against the mattress when I hear his giddy laugh and cheery “Yes!” from down the hallway.

“I’m dating a kid,” I sigh at the empty room and imagine that it agrees with me.

* Lil Timmy <Boy with kittens>

Shameless promotion: Find me on AO3

[josephlrushing]

‘Easy Break Pixel’ Caps off a Month of Self-Induced Failures by Google

Perhaps you have heard about this – the new Google Pixel 4 bends and breaks unlike any midrange or flagship phone since the 2014 iPhone 6 … which aside from causing embarrassment for Apple, also caused a shift in testing, design, and materials of construction across the industry.

Perhaps Google didn’t get the memo – or maybe they did polling and found that a significant amount of people didn’t care if their phone was easily broken. Either way, this is just the latest in a series of failures of Google’s own doing that has occurred over the last several weeks. I wanted to round some of them up because I feel they have been either overlooked or downplayed in much of the tech media.

Image from CNet.

Pixel 4 Atrocious Battery Life: This is the #1 complaint about the new line. Bottom line is that the Pixel 4XL has about 50% worse battery life compared to other flagships … and the Pixel 4 has ~20% shorter battery life than the previous generation – which itself was criticized for poor battery life. We will dig into this more in our upcoming review of the Pixel 4 series, but suffice to say that it has already become a punchline – and deservedly so.

Pixel 4 Inexplicably Poor Performance: Another area the Pixel 4/XL lags is performance. Apple’s $100 cheaper iPhone 11 is TWICE as fast across a half dozen real and synthetic benchmarks. But what is worse for me is how it compares to other phones using the same SnapDragon 855 chipset – the Pixel 4 ends up ~15 – 25% below other phones such as the Galaxy Note 10+ using the same processor SoC. That performance lag is not explained by the RAM difference, so it points to poorly optimized OS software or fundamental design problems. Or – slowing the processor to save battery life.

Dim Screen Capped for Battery Life: After learning that the 90Hz display needs to come with a big asterisk due to the conditions that must all be in play to enable it, yet another thing we learned this week was that the gorgeous OLED panel is intentionally dimmed to ~450nits compared to the >900 on the iPhone 11 and Galaxy Note 10+. Again – it is obvious, and also appears to be something done to play for more battery life.

Other Outcomes of ‘Design By Survey’: There is a famous Steve Jobs reworking of a Henry Ford quote “It’s really hard to design products by focus groups. A lot of times, people don’t know what they want until you show it to them.” And yet companies do it all the time – and it shows. It certainly shows on the Pixel 4/XL in more than a few ways: – Adding a telephoto lens but not a wide-angle lens. Look for a wide-angle lens in the Pixel 5. – Missing several popular video modes (literally a “surveys said” decision) – Unfinished FaceID clone with security holes which is lacking buy-in from banks and others

Tech Looking for a Home: People have criticized the large ‘forehead’ on the Pixel 4 correctly, which brings me to another Steve Jobs quote “You can’t start with the technology and try to figure out where can I sell it.” The forehead on the Pixel 4/XL is large despite losing a camera this year because it picked up FaceID – and also the Motion Sense radar sensor that … um, lets you wave your hand to change songs like something that would have seemed cool in the late 90s. Maybe ‘Project Soli’ will be useful someday for something. But right now all it does is decrease the screen to phone ratio for no apparent reason.

Google Stadia ‘Negative Latency’ Kerfuffle: One of my core arguments about Stadia has been that the math between normal latency and promised frame rates don’t converge. Last week we finally got some insight from Google that they plan to limit the devices and control schemes to minimize issues, but also that they are implementing predictive analytics to smooth over intermittent lag. While it won’t help with persistent bad connections, it could be what is needed to make server-based solutions actually sustainable. But for many, it is an admission that they can’t eliminate latency so will simulate gameplay and ‘push the button for you’ instead. Reality? Too early to tell.

No Earbuds for You: Not news, but I have seen more people complaining about the lack of earbuds based on many of the other shortcomings of the Pixel 4/XL. In other words, while they don’t as much care about the lack of earbuds, given the price of the phone compared to the various shortcomings, suddenly the lack of earbuds seems like another way Google has ‘cheaped out’ on users.

Late to Your Own Party: One of the key selling points for the Pixel (and Nexus before that) is that it offers a ‘pure Android experience’ similar to the control Apple has with the iPhone. We have already seen that despite this, the Android implementation on every Pixel phone has been quite buggy on release and taken a while to stabilize while performing better on existing phones. Now Google has slipped even further, most Pixel 4/XL phones have not seen the November 1st update that has been delivered to phones from pretty much every other vendor including Samsung – heck, even my Galaxy Tab S6 has gotten the update! So much for that selling point!

Holiday Coal for Pixel 4/XL Early Adopters: Stop me if you have heard this one before — a company introduces a new product and people rush out to buy it, only to see it on sale a few weeks later for a significant discount, and then they get upset that someone else got a better deal. Google’s Pixel 4/XL Black Friday deals have been revealed – and many people aren’t happy. Honestly, early adopters should know better by now!

Pixel 3 Joins the “Yes, in Fact, Your Battery IS Dead” Crowd: Joining yet another inauspicious iPhone 6 club, Since getting Android 10 Pixel 3 users have been reporting that the already short Pixel 3 battery life has been made worse as the phone has started shutting down without warning with the 30-40% battery remaining. Again, this is very likely the result of over-aggressive battery life management as it was with the iPhone 6 years ago, but given how poor the battery life already is on the Pixel 3, this is really adding insult to injury! The only upside is it isn’t happening to Pixel 4 users!

All Your Health Data Are Belong to US! This one emerged even as I was compiling this list – Google has been working with health care provider Ascension, the second-largest provider in the US. In the deal, Google has had access to the health records of millions of patients across 21 states … without their knowledge. While this is all *legal*, having someone who makes their money turning personal internet data into targeted advertising suddenly having access to health records for those same ‘advertising targets’ is at least somewhat disconcerting.

All 50 State Attorney’s General Expanding Anti-Trust Investigations to Include Android and Search Google is somewhat of an over-achiever here, having received the largest fines and punishments in history based on privacy violations and anti-competitive behavior amongst other things. Their advertising business has attracted extensive global scrutiny due to concerns of anti-competitive practices, and now based on those investigations, it appears that Google has been leveraging their monopolies in anti-competitive ways that include Android and Search.

Bottom Line: How do you feel about these? Do they mostly feel pretty small to you? I mean, sure – we are getting a pretty clear picture that the Pixel 4/XL is a disappointment that suffers from some of the most common failure modes that have occurred across pretty much every major company ever.

Google is a company that has tremendous goodwill even among cynics and skeptics such as myself – if for no other reason than I know that they are better than anyone at keeping that massive trove of data they collect about all of us secure. However, Google has also paid more fines than any tech company in history — due to invading user privacy and using data without permission repeatedly. At a time when governments are becoming increasingly wary of the power held by tech giants, these sorts of self-induced issues can leave a lasting impact.

What do you think? Any other things I might have missed?

from Joseph Rushing https://geardiary.com/2019/11/15/easy-break-pixel-caps-off-a-month-of-self-induced-failures-by-google/

[imatin3222]

Early Beta?

I never really had much of a childhood, mainly because my parents were “slightly” overprotective. Which meant I had very little interaction with the more popular games, or even consoles. It wasn’t until I had reached the age of thirteen that my parents got with the times and trusted me enough to buy me a computer, and soon after a phone as well. I had only interacted with games like Lego Star Wars and Republic Commando at my friends’. Long story short, I had to move to Virginia when I was 13. Fortunately, I was able to fit right in with the local gamers and nerds at my new school. A couple of years later, at the end of my freshmen year, I grew tired of playing my limited collection of  Star Wars and Superhero based games. (My parents wouldn’t let me get games outside of those categories) So I talked to my friends, and we all decided to get GBA emulators for our phones and download the largest game series I had missed out on: Pokèmon. Of course, it took some time, but finally I was able to get my parents consent.

We all downloaded Fire Red first, because it was a remake of the original Red and Blue, and the originals were way too pixelated for my liking.  Anyways, we had to have a Pikachu, since it was such an iconic character. Also, having the ability to say we had a Pikachu would be pretty prestigious (even being weak as it was).

I did some research to find the best place to catch them. I found that at the end of Veridian Forest, right before you enter Pewter city, the last two tall grass sections have the highest Pikachu spawn rate. So I headed out to catch me a Pikachu. The timing couldn’t have been worse, though. I had a fainted Squirtle and a nearly fainted Weedle. I lost the battle just as I entered homeroom, and I was forced to turn my phone off. When I got back on after school, I soon realized that my game had been deleted, and couldn't access my last save. I thought it a little weird at first, but I did have the tendency to think I saved my game, when I really didn’t. Not to mention I shut off my phone in the middle of the game.

I restarted the game, this time choosing Charmander. Going back to the spot, I searched for at least twenty minutes before finally capturing a Pikachu. Now, it was time to begin the grind to level up my Pokemon so I could faceoff against Brock. I had Charmander, Pikachu, Pidgey, and a Weedle. It was during this time that my game began to undergo a glitching animation. You know how your screen flashes when you have a Poisoned Pokemon? I didn’t have one, but for some reason the screen kept flashing. I went to the Pewter City Pokemon Center just to be safe and after going in, I went to the P.C. where there is a Jigglypuff in the corner. It didn't look too happy, and it had dark red eyes instead of the light blue they normally had. I went up the man next to it to talk to him, hoping he would mention the irregular eye color.

“Oh, you're wondering about the Jigglypuff,” he said. A yes or no icon popped up. Out of curiosity I instantly chose Yes.

“He has a tendency to get a little riled up when they’re around,” he stated.

At the time i thought it was kind of odd, seeming as there was no one else around, but I just pressed on with my quest, happy that the screen finally stopped flashing.

Eventually my younger brother decided to get fire red for his phone as well, so I reset my game to play with him and chose Bulbasaur this time around.

“No more resets,” I promised myself.

Just like before there was the weird Jigglypuff. I sped through the gyms as fast as I could to get to Lavender Town. It was one of the most iconic towns in the game. The Jigglypuff from earlier made me want to know if anything else in the game would be affected, and Lavender Town seemed like a prime location for spooky changes. It took me a few days, because I couldn’t take more than a couple steps before running into a wild Pokemon. What made it extremely annoying, though, was that my brother and friends didn’t experience any problems.After finally getting past the bridge, I joined Team Rocket. What? I enjoy playing as an antagonist if I get the chance. After hitting the P.C. right before entering Mt. Moon, I talked to the various people. To my surprise the Magikarp seller had an extra set of dialogue. After buying the Magikarp, he said,

“This fellow was quite an easy catch, something has been upsetting the Pokemon making them more aggressive and prone to attack. This fella’ just jumped straight at me.”

At this point I went to the site I downloaded the ROM from and decided to do some investigating. While most hacks didn’t affect the game (to my knowledge) I felt it was best to make sure I didn’t get a ROM that was totally jacked up. Eventually, I drew the conclusion that when I accidentally reset my game by shutting off my phone, I corrupted some files and somehow caused the game to fill in the blanks spots with files from an earlier version of the game. Again, this was just a speculation, so I continued playing to see what else I could discover.

Finally, after an excruciatingly long time I finally got out of Mt. Moon and ventured into Lavender Town. At first glance It didn’t seem strange at all, in fact it almost seemed normal for a second or two. Then the screen began to shake, like it does when a Pokemon uses Rock Throw. I saw four Team Rocket grunts run out of the Pokemon tower with bags.

One said, “C’mon let's get out of here! We don’t need more Marowak’s coming after us. Let’s just take these skulls and go.”

What? Was there really a pokemon that could scare at least four Team Rocket grunts? And skulls, why skulls? After the grunts left the screen I saw it. A Pokemon towing what looked like an evolved version of itself. It dragged its companion to the middle of the town and began wailing, or at least that's what it sounded like. This “wailing” sound that came from the Pokemon was incredibly loud. I assumed the larger Pokemon had died, by the sound the smaller one was making. Then the villagers began to come out to see the commotion. They gathered around the Pokemon and stood there. Finally able to move, I walked up the large group as a dialogue box popped up.

“Oh the poor thing, it lost it’s mother”

“Those darn Team Rocket grunts!” This was followed by more boxes, all saying basically the same thing.

Of course I was now beginning to regret being a Rocket Agent. Not because it was wrong, but I didn’t feel like getting caught. I turned to leave but was quickly approached by one of the town elders.

“Hey you’re a new face. Are you with Team Rocket,” A yes/no option came up. After some consideration, I chose no.

“The word going around is a new Rocket Recruit was inducted recently. Are you positive you are not with them?”  A yes/no option came up again. I chose yes.

“Alright. But if we find you with them, we will make you wish you hadn’t messed with us, Mister!”

I took that as my ticket to leave, as well as talk to my brother about what was going on. Something was definitely wrong with the game, but then again this was an experience that only the game designers, and maybe a select few other people, knew about. So I figured, why stop?

After rushing to Saffron City, I was immediately surprised by all the Team Rocket grunts there. I went up to the guard standing in front of the Silph Co. He let me in, no questions asked. The thought of not having to fight grunts really eased my tension, however when talking to staff members they would all say strange, passive-aggressive quips, like:

“I hope they let us go. Oh wait; why am I talking to you? You’re one of them.”

“Will they ever leave- Oh, sorry. Will YOU ever leave?”

Slightly taken aback, I discontinued talking to them. It didn’t take me to long to find the right teleporters and defeat Gary. I took him out with ease and finally met Giovanni.

“Ahh, our newest recruit. A little young, but very powerful, and growing quickly too. Tell me, would you like to help me rule over all of the Pokemon?”

A yes/no icon popped up. I chose yes, because why not?

“Heh, you’re a true Team Rocket agent. You’ll do great.”

He gave me the silph scope to go to the Pokemon Tower. Apparently there was some ghost keeping some grunts from leaving with their hostage. Great, back to Lavender Town, where everyone already suspected my affiliations with Team Rocket.

I decided to avoid being seen by the townspeople as a precaution, and hoped get in and out of there as quickly as possible. This was made difficult only by the insane amount of ghost pokemon that kept attacking me inside the tower, unlike my friends, who went through with ease.  

Then after finding Marowak’s ghost and taking it down, it gave me a strange reply.

“Marowak’s spirit was not calmed, it is angry that it’s murderers sent one of their own to deal with it. You cannot escape its wrath.”

It then faded into the overworld screen. I walked past the grunts as they ran by me and down the stairs. One stopped to thank me for dealing with the ghost. I continued on to find an old man, most likely the grunt’s hostage. Oddly, I was kind of worried to hear what he had to say.

“Heh, good job on angering that ghost. You will regret it! Oh, and don’t pretend you tried to save me, I heard those villains. Keep an eye out for that Marowak! Heh heh heh!”

Thinking I was an easy target in the tower, I bolted out of there, only to be cut off by most of the people in Lavender Town.

“We warned you not to lie to us. Now you will pay for lying about being a Team Rocket Agent.”

“Hold on a minute folks, let him go. He already has trouble chasing him.”

It was the old man, I had met in the tower.

“He angered the Marowak’s spirit and it’s out for revenge. That should be enough to deal with this kid.”

Honestly after what I just saw, I needed a break, so I took a couple days off. Yet, I couldn’t get that Marowak out of my head. Plus, with overprotective parents that wouldn’t let me do much it was kind of hard to get my mind on other things. I mean one plus is that I got what could be an earlier version of the game. But then again, I worked so hard to get the actual game. I mean, I could just reinstall it again. I decided against that, so I could see what the creators wanted to do with the game.

Soon after, I got right back into Fire Red. When I got back into the game everything was just like I had left it. The man had just told everyone that I was cursed and they were beginning to back off and let me pass. I was a bit worried, hearing that a Pokemon’s ghost was out to get me, but I kept at it and soon enough I was at Cinnabar island. Hesitantly, I approached the old Pokemon Mansion. It took a lot of guts for me to force myself in there, not only because it was probably loaded with Pokemon, but Marowak was potentially waiting for me. Thankfully and surprisingly it didn’t show up. I continued getting Pokemon and grinding to ready myself for the Elite Four. I had a Venusaur, Pidgeot, Pikachu (that knew Mega Kick and Mega Punch), Lapras, Mr. Mime, and Gengar.

To speed up the story, and because nothing of huge significance happened, I’ll skip to where things started acting up again. Right after beating Gary.

Oak did his usual rambling about Pokemon and being the best, when Giovanni burst through the door and strode right to me. Talking to Oak, he said,

“The number one Pokemon Master is also a Team Rocket agent! Our plan is almost complete to rule the world, just one last thing.”

Then a semi-transparent Marowak walked into the room.

“Of course, with that much power, you might overthrow me kiddo. So I’ll just take all your Pokemon.”

I checked for my Pokemon, and like he had said they were gone. I had a feeling I knew what would happen next.

“Now I think that Marowak has some unfinished business with you. Ha ha ha. Thanks for all your help, bub.”

A battle sequence started. The text “Marowak’s spirit is challenging You. What will you do?” appeared. I tried running. “You can’t escape Marowak’s spirit.”

“Oh well,” I thought to myself, “this is where it all ends.”

But then another text box popped up. It read, “Marowak senses good in you. She will give you a second chance, but she will always be watching you. Be careful!”

Now I know I should have seen that coming, but then again I wasn’t expecting to have some ghost stalk me. Could I possibly capture or lose it? First I could hardly see it, the ghost had a very faint outline and always moved away from me. And secondly it always followed me. Even when I tried to fly somewhere, it would be waiting for me at whatever location I was at.

Anyways I took a break from the game after that. Of course I didn’t want my parents to think I was getting addicted, giving them another reason to keep me from playing more games. But after that confrontation things got weird.

I’m not one to believe in haunted games or games affecting real life. I’ve read all those stories like Ben Drowned and what not. Plus those stories involved a “haunted” game not some glitch i was able to use to access some early version of the game. But anyways I began to catch glimpses of a faded creature following me. As usual it disappeared when I tried stopped to see it a little better.

I continued to carry on with and observe the game. As I played, I began to see more ghosts, or Marowak screwing with me. Not much time had passed before they became more visible. Then I began to realize, it was probably the ghosts that were riling up these Pokemon and scaring them. Anyways, I decided to go back to Pewter City, where I first began to notice these game changes. And, sure enough, there was a ghost standing near that Jigglypuff.

A couple of weeks later, I had finally gotten used to all the ghosts, and I had all the available legendary Pokemon. As I was strolling through some grass looking for trouble, I realized that Marowak began to walk towards me.

“It seems you have the strength to finally help me.”

Ok, I have to admit that at first I was confused. But soon, I began to realize what was happening. I continued on to see what Marowak wanted.

“I want revenge on Team Rocket. Don’t you, too? Treating us like mere conveniences to further their plans for domination. So will you help destroy this menace?”

I accepted, because honestly I was a little pissed at Giovanni for tossing me aside. So it wasn’t only Marowak getting revenge.

“It’s too dangerous to talk to you here, I’ll visit you in the real world.”

Now I was spooked, of course I shouldn’t have let that bother me. But it still did, now I know there have been games that break the fourth wall, but could this be one of kind of scenarios? In the following days I was too scared to sleep, even going as far as recording me sleeping during the night didn’t help me. I couldn’t concentrate in class and my grades began to slip, but I could care less at the moment, this game had taken a turn for the worst and affecting me. During this time I began to dig in the internet to see if I could find anything much more deeper than looking at some ROM sites, and skimming over google. I went to every search engine I could find. But all I could find were beta hacks and mods, and the occasional Roblox pokemon game.

The last thing I could think of was contacting Nintendo, but since ROMs aren't legal, I decided it was best not to risk getting in trouble.

So my diagnosis? I seriously screwed up my game. Finally, I gathered up the courage to open up Firered on my phone.

Once I entered the game Marowak spoke.

“You’ve been gone for some time now haven’t you? Two weeks and three days right?”

I sat there on my bed, staring at that dialogue, re-reading the line. Then I realized that some games pulled stunts like that, like those games in the early 2000’s. Everything happening in this game had been stunts pulled in later games.

I was suddenly not afraid and decided to play one, until my phone crashed.

After a couple of hours of work I was able to get my phone on and functioning without having to hard reset. Instantly I installed a virus and malware app to go through my phone to find anything.

At the end, Firered was clear, I went ahead and got rid of it anyways.

Anyways fast forward a year, that experience had been buried. And when Pokemon Go was released I slightly remembered when I had gotten Firered but didn’t dare want to bring back everything. After going through the tutorial I went into town to find some Pokemon, ironically the first Pokemon that I ran into was Marowak. It was slightly transparent, and when I went to capture that’s when everything came back.

“It has been a really long time since we’ve talked. A year, two months and ten days was it?”