#yes I just reblogged the post but the thoughts needed to be released immediately

[venting402]

young Namor eating idk seaweed while watching his generals talk. HEAR ME OUT: work romance and Namor clocks it so he’s having fun watching it bloom

young Namor but really he’s like over a hundred years. great grandpa aged deadass

older women talking with their daughters and grandchildren how they all had/have crushes on their king. The men all look at each other knowing they know others who had the same thoughts. The same tiny shorts in a megalodon skull throne still have the girlies giggling (so real 🤭). imagine people come up with nicknames to talk about him. Namor decoded them a long time ago but acts oblivious because to him they are like children in a playground and he’s not a fun ruiner

[jinogasux-fr]

Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information… well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: when he comes back from arguably most demanding races of the season, he truly wants to be cuddled up with his girlfriend especially when they haven't seen each other in two weeks.

warnings: established relationship!, mild smut (18+ MDNI), cussing. the usual. typos.

wc: 2.6k

requested: yes | no ~ this lovely request right here!

saint team radio: i wanna scream, this was supposed to be out in SEPTEMBER!!! but now it’s here 🤭. lil one shot before releasing “Break my Soul” and i hope you guys enjoy this one. plus i’m getting used to writing smut now 😧 anyways bye! love ya!

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @lorarri @thisismeracing @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @yeea-nah @queenshikongo3 @cherry2stems @planetmimi @alika-4466 @arshiyuh (lmk if you wanna be tagged!)

pls like, comment and reblog! 🫶🏽 (i’m watching you 🤨)

-

"I know what you are." You gasped as you watched Bella confront Edward in the forest. The morning sun was shining its rays through the large windows and sliding doors of the large house. The couch was slowly sinking you into it, the packet of cookies from your favourite bakery nestled next to your comfortable figure.

Understandably, it was quite early in the morning, 9 am to be precise, to be watching Twilight and munching on cookies but to be fair, Roscoe had woken you up for early morning snuggles. Deciding to check the time on your phone, you became distracted by your wallpaper of Lewis with you next to him with the green mountains of Bali right behind you both, flowers behind your ear to celebrate your birthday.

You truly missed him a lot, these past two weeks felt as if they dragged on and on the longer you waited to see him. Only being able to see him on your phone screen and tv, his fashion becoming a staple for you to follow almost every week. When his face appeared on screen for a post race interview, you would find yourself admiring him and completely closing off to whatever he was saying into the mics. Even seeing his car drive around gave you butterflies, just hearing his name would make you stop in your tracks every single time.

Lewis' face quickly invaded your mind, no longer focusing on the movie before you. Although you had tried to distract yourself with giving yourself tasks to do along with completing some work you probably missed, doing those things were just always better with your boyfriend around. Physically being on each other's space was something you needed desperately, a true connection when realising that you both had the love language of physical touch.

During these two week, you would resist the urge to touch yourself in thought of Lewis, deeming him to be the only one who could find your sweet spots so much better than you could. Embarrassingly enough, you had resorted to watching fan edits of him just for you to feel something. All you did was like a single video on your feed then you fell into the rabbit hole of his fans being extremely talented and feeling the way you felt but you would sleep better knowing that you had him all to yourself at the end of the day.

Snapping you out of your daily daydream about your boyfriend, your phone buzzed with a notification from the front gate of the house to say that a car has entered the driveway and you immediately jumped up in excitement, alerting Roscoe. "Come on boy, Dads is home." You smiled to the energetic dog who was eagerly waiting for you to put your slides on.

Opening the front door wide enough, Roscoe ran right past you to greet Lewis as the man was taking his luggage out of the trunk, giving his affection to his dog before standing up straight (with a bit of caution) to look at you standing just a few feet away. He studied you from head to toe, the Nike pro shorts were barely visible underneath the +44 sweater that you helped design. Your braids were fresh, nails done and from what he saw, a small but new tattoo on your hand and he swore his stomach flipped at the sight of you.

"Hey baby!" You expressed as you threw your arms around his neck, his head buried itself into your neck and your scent filled up his nostrils. "Hi." The tired voice vibrated through your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His large hands were resting on your lower back moving ever so slowly, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Moving your heads back, you gave him a sweet peck as he looked into your eyes afterwards. Studying his face a little, his eyes were a little droopy and his face wasn't as bright as you saw it on facetime hours ago. Letting go of the hug, you moved to help him with his suitcases but noticed that he seemed to walk a little funny as he walked into the house.

Finding him in the kitchen drinking a glass of water, you chose to lean back into the counter next to him. "Knowing you, I can tell you didn't eat so how about you go shower and i'll make breakfast?"  You suggested and all the man could do was smile and lean in to kiss you, tasting your strawberry chapstick before going upstairs with his hand on his back.

-

A hearty breakfast and him talking about how the race went in terms of strategy then a few discussions of random stuff, you both opted for chilling on the couch to catch up on a bit of TV. Lunch was ordered and you two spent the afternoon just being in each other's presence. You then decided to showcase the clothes you had bought during the two weeks he had been gone, each dress and skirt getting shorter than the last with his exhaustion preventing him from wanting to take you right then and there.

Changing back into the original outfit you had on, he quickly changed into his gym wear to work out in the home gym he had built in before you had moved in. "Will you be okay to workout, Lew?" You asked, filling the glass with small heart shaped ice cubes, ironically matching the tennis bracelet you were wearing. "I'm fine sweetie, I promise." He muttered as his eyes trailed down to your chest, the +44 sweater long gone as the day became hotter. "Eyes up here, babe." You giggled as he didn't even seem to hear you say anything.

"What?" He snapped out of it, making you laugh a little harder. "Go do your workout stuff, you dork. When you come back, we can do some skin care." You smiled as he held your hips with his grip tightened. "I can think of something else-"

"Lewis, I'm gonna bite you. Go." You narrowed your eyes at the man who walked away giggling as if he heard the funniest joke.

Nighttime was slowly approaching and dinner was already prepared, finding pesto really easy to make. Lewis was still in the home gym, your phone buzzing with instagram telling you that he posted on his story. Clicking on it, you saw how your boyfriend took a full body mirror picture with his shirt completely off and he looked a bit breathless. The lights glistened on his abs and tattoos, accentuating his tan even more. The v line was showing as his shorts sat quite low on his waist and you were left speechless, gripping the blanket so much that you could barely feel your hand anymore. Rubbing your thighs together, you tried to relax your thoughts by reminding yourself that he still has what seemed like an injury on his back.

But to be fair, nothing could stop him, not even an injury.

You tried distracting yourself from the instagram story by playing some music and doing some online shopping. Hearing his heavy footsteps enter the room, his sweaty self looked at you with a look you knew all too well but you decided to not do the deed tonight because you thought he needed to be well rested for this.

"You gonna go shower?" You stopped what you were doing and faced him with crossed arm with a little smile on your face. He came a bit closer and you backed up. "Lew, get away. You're sweaty." Your cheeks started to hurt from the smiling and all he did was open his arms as he came closer to you. "Lewis, I'm so serious. Babe wai-" You didn't even finish your sentence before you bolted, heading up to your shared bedroom and he chased after you with both your giggles filling the air.

"Baby, stop moving. I can't put on the under eye mask." You pouted, holding the cold cucumber scented applicator in your hand. "It's just cold." He muttered, holding the back of your legs as you stood between his legs. "C'mon gramps, it'll take like 5 minutes then you'll forget it's there." Knowing how he'd react to the nickname, you received the nastiest side eye you've gotten from him. Doubling down in laughter, you held onto the bathroom sink counter for dear life as you continued to laugh with him.

As the laughter died down, you fixed your braids into a bun and put your hand out for him to give up his hair tie that he has had on the whole day. "I like your earrings, love. When'd you get them?" He asked, now standing behind you as you made eye contact in the mirror. His eyes still had the same look as when he came out of the gym. "Remember that one bracelet you brought back from Milan last month? They opened a store in Central london so I think it was Thursday." You nodded as you told him, removing both your under eye masks to then fully wash and moisturise your faces.

Lewis opted to watch you complete your routine as you did like to take your time with it, the scented candles creating the perfect atmosphere. His left hand came around your waist, his other hand holding onto your hip and his head dropping into your neck with small butterfly-like kisses peppering your skin. You stopped everything you were doing to feel exactly what Lewis was doing to you, his large hands lowering down your body with each kiss.

"Lew, baby. You need to rest." You whispered, unable to speak from his soft kisses. "Missed you so much, just wanna feel you.” He whined into your neck. As he picked up his head to kiss even further, you already turned your head to look at him, your face filled with worry.

“Can you not make that face?” You slightly jutted your lip out, his face sending a completely different message. “Is it working?”

“No.” You tried your best to hide the smile from your face, your boyfriend’s face dropping at the answer. Backing away from his embrace, you walked into the bedroom, fully aware that he was following right after you.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you watched as Lewis stood in front of you then locked eyes with you. “Love, can I at least eat you out?” His whiny voice sounded out and you were fully taken by surprise. You had yet to experience this side of him in the bedroom but if it meant hearing that voice all over again, you were all in.

Not even waiting for your words, the man dropped down onto his knees, holding your thighs as balance as he maintained the eye contact with you. “Please, please baby. I’ll be so good, I promise. Won’t tease you, I’m starving. Just wanna taste you.” He rambles, his eyes slightly closed as his voice drops the closer his face gets to your thighs.

You couldn’t believe what was actually happening, so much so that it took you a few seconds to even think of a response. His chocolate eyes looked up at you with such anticipation, eagerly waiting for you to say something, anything. All you could do was nod and within seconds, he began kissing up your thighs, silently thanking the universe for bringing the two of you together.

Between her slight panting, you remembered that his back was in pain from earlier in the day, giving you an idea. “Lew.” You called out, his head rising to stare at you once more. “Lie on your back, don’t need you to hurt it more than it already is.” You said, slowly guiding him to stand up with you then push him down onto the bed by his chest. He huffed out a slight chuckle at your eagerness.

Once the clothes were off, you crawled up to straddle him but catching him by surprise, your lower body was closer to his face than he thought. Your legs were on each side of his head, your dripping core was hovering right above his mouth, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. Gently holding onto his braids, you lowered yourself slightly yet not fully sitting, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“Y/n baby. Sit on my face, please.” Lewis groaned from underneath you, his breath hitting your core making you slightly shiver. His large hands creeped up onto your ass, bringing you down onto his face with a grip. Once you had gotten used to him devouring you like a touch starved man, you eventually found your rhythm and began moving in perfect harmony with his tongue, slightly pulling his braids when you felt the all too familiar knot into your stomach .

Your orgasm ripped through you, your moans bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom. When wanting to lift yourself off of him, he continued to lick and suck on your sensitive clit, overstimulating you quite a bit. Your moans grew into whimpers and that’s when Lewis knew that you were beginning to feel tired, your body slightly shaking from the intense sensation of your release.

Now having a bit more energy, you actually lifted yourself up from his mouth and wanted to go down on him as you craved to have something that would give him the same sensation that he gave you. Before you could even reach his hard on, he held onto one of your hands. Kissing your palm, he spoke up. “Can you please just fuck me? I need to feel you around me, sweetie.” Lewis asked, the same look from before wooing you so easily.

You continued making your way down on him until he suddenly flipped the both of you. “Lew! Warn a girl next time!” You wanted to roll your eyes at him but he just smiled and leaned down to give you a breathtaking kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach once more.

“I’ve got you, baby. Just let me make you feel good.” He smirked, holding your legs to go around his waist. Once entering you, it truly felt like this should go on forever, have this night replay in your mind like a broken record. His hips snapping against yours would bring you back to reality, seeing stars once the familiar knot returned to taunt you. With the way he was pounding into you, you would’ve never thought he had back pain the whole time.

You screamed upon your 4th release, your body flopping against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. Lewis emerged from the bathroom with a warm and slightly wet towel to gently wipe your pussy, you sucked in a breath as your sensitive clit felt the material against you.

Once fully done with aftercare for you and himself, you looked up at the man as you layed on your front to look at him laying next to you. “I truly love you, Y/n. Couldn’t thank the stars enough for you.” He expressed, the look in his eyes sending a deeper message into your soul.

“I love you so much, Lewis.” You responded and you could feel the love radiating off of each other.

This was love and you could forever drown in this feeling with Lewis right by your side.

[nerdallwritey]

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ 𝓛𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 ✦˚₊‧⁺˖

Hi, I'm Emma! Welcome to my writing blog, where there's banter abound!

I'm currently writing Astarion x f!reader fics, but am open to requests! Be warned: My content is NSFW so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it! MDNI

Where else can you find me?

AO3 // Main Blog (I reblog tons of bg3 stuff over there!)

𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔡 - (Posted in order chronologically)

An Evening to Ourselves (18+): When Astarion propositions you for the first time, you're anything but excited. // AO3

“I, uh-” It was too much. The look on his face was too intense. You felt too exposed despite the layers of armor currently clad to your body. “I’m scared,” you admitted quietly. “Don’t be,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”

Just to Ruin Me (18+): The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two. // AO3

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.”

Cheeks All Flushed (18+): It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue. // Part 1 // Part 2 // AO3

You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

Perfect Every Time (18+): Before your party travels into the Underdark, you and Astarion catch one last sunrise together. // AO3

You got up and joined him in the ankle deep water. “Do you want to try right now?” Astarion thought for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I have a better idea, actually.” He gave you a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly.  “What?” you matched his smile. Rather than answering, Astarion reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.  You furrowed your brow. “Looks an awful lot like you’re preparing to swim.” He started fiddling with the clasps on his pants and groaned in your direction. “Swimming is not the only thing one can do while submerged in water, dearest.” He gave you a sensual smile that sent heat to your cheeks. 

Worth the Peril (18+): Upon arriving in the Underdark, you go down in a battle, leaving Astarion to pick up the pieces. // AO3

In another life, Astarion would have made a decent barbarian.  Despite Karlach’s cheerful demeanor, for the most part, barbarians were known to be violent, brutal, and cruel. All things that Astarion could easily tap into if the situation called for it. And right now, he was entering a rage.

About to Strike (18+): The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands. // Part 1 // Part 2 // AO3

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.

More to come!

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰 - (Ask box is open!)

Awfully Fond of You 🪴 (18+): Instead of sleeping with Astarion on the night of the tiefling party, you ask to bathe him instead. // AO3

You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water. “You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket out for Astarion to see. “I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.” “A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.” “I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

𝔄𝔯𝔱 - (Please feel free to draw scenes from the story! Just tag me!)

xxnashiraxx: - Birdie (my Tav!) sthormii: - Mine (from About to Strike)/Fangs (from Just to Ruin Me)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 47

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: look, i'm trying to focus.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You run your thumbs over the suede cover, “for me?” 

“A new journal, sweetie,” Steve smiles. It’s the first time you’ve been to his office since... well, since Andy. It’s been almost a week since you left. “A fresh start.” 

“Oh, uh... it’s so cute,” you admire the embossed dove in the corner. 

“Just like you,” he purrs. “It’ll help in the next phase of your treatment.”  

You look at him and wince. There’s a shift in his posture, a certain click. He’s Dr. Kemp again, not Steve. Not, as he says when he has his arms around you, your husband. You bite your cheeks and rest the journal on your lap. 

“Next phase?” 

“Yes, well, you just start using that and we’ll get there. For now, let’s check in. How are you doing? How are you feeling?” He asks in the gentle cadence that soothes you. It’s almost as if he’s a totally different person there. 

“I think... I think I’m okay. I...” 

“Sweetie, come on, this isn’t home. We have to do real work. So, let’s talk about Andy.” 

You grip the edges of the journal and shrink down, “do we have to?” 

“Now, you know we have to. You can’t keep running away. That was very intense, wasn’t it? Leaving.” 

You put your head down and nod, “yeah...” 

Silence. He waits and sniffs. He shifts and sighs. That noise, that release of breath, makes you shudder. It reminds you of Andy. 

“Are you still afraid of him?” 

You nod again. 

“But you’re safe. With me. So why are you afraid?” He prompts. 

You let go of the journal and wring your hands atop it, “I don’t... I dream of him. He’s angry and... he’s chasing me or... I’m locked up and he won’t let me go--” you cover your face and shake your head, “no, I don’t want to think about it.” 

“Now, Dove, we are making progress. You can’t just do that every time you get scared, right? You go so far and then you immediately pull back,” he tisks. “So let go into that more. You’re afraid of him. Why?” 

You flinch and look at him. You pout, “he hurt me. You know--” 

“Right now, I don’t know anything. I need you to tell me.” 

You stare, open-mouth, horrified. You couldn’t even write those things down. You swallow dryly. He nods and leans forward.  

“Take your time.” 

You look down. You can’t look at him. You wallow in the tension and suck in air through your nose, letting it over from your mouth. 

“He... he... he kissed me when I didn’t want to. I never asked... never said... and he touched me,” you eke out. “And... it hurt when we were in bed together--” 

“Sweetie, you don’t need to be shy. Sex is natural, we both know that. If you aren’t completely honest with yourself, let alone me, you can’t work through this,” he coaxes. 

You sniffle and scratch your nose. “He held me down...” 

You close your eyes as it trickles out. Little by little. It builds to a stream with your tears as you recite all the things Andy made you do. The things he said to you. How he said without saying it that he would hurt your sister. 

“Good job, sweetie,” Steve praises. “Why don’t you take a break, come here?” 

You jolt up straight and blink at the room. You nearly forgot he was there. You catch the journal before it can slip off your lap and hug it. It’s your shield. 

Steve rubs his thigh and you stand up. You cross to him with tiny steps and he reaches for you. He directs you around to sit on his lap. He rubs your shoulder as he lean into him. He tickles along your neck. 

“Alright, so, let’s work on your journal, sweetie,” he slips the pen from his chest pocket, “here.” 

You take it from him. He curls his arm around you and opens the journal, holding it over your legs. You click the nib of the pen out and peer down at the blank page. 

“Well...” he shifts beneath you, spreading his knees wider. As he does, you feel something. Him! He’s hard. You put your head down and shakily hover the pen over the page. 

“What do I write?” 

“Hmm, well, I can get you start,” he wiggles under you so his dick presses against your ass. “’Today, Dr. Kemp helped me. We talked about my trauma and now I won’t be afraid of Andy because I know the doctor will protect me.’” 

You write without thinking then pull the pen back and reread the words. You gasp. “Trauma?” 

“Why, yes, sweetie, you understand now what he was doing, right?” 

Your eyes burn again and your wipe your tears away with your sleeve. Steve’s hand flutters up your naked thigh and he plays with the hem of the skirt he picked out for you that day. You nod and gulp, biting your cuff. 

“I understand,” you murmur around the fabric. 

“And that’s the first step to sorting out all your feelings. You did a very good job today,” he pets your thigh, higher and higher, “you trust me, right? You know I mean it, I’ll protect you.” 

“Yes, yes,” you squeak. “Of course.” 

“Mmm,” he purrs and puts his lips against the shoulder of your sweater, “we’re all done, sweetie. You did so good.” 

“I did?” You bat your webbed lashes and drop your hand. 

“Oh, yes, you did,” his other hand comes up to nudge your chin as he feels along the front of your panties, “gimme a kiss, sweetie.” 

Your stomach does that thing. It flips but this time, it hurts. You turn in his lap and press your lips to his and daintily touch his cheek. You like touching him, just like that, small little curious brushes. He smiles against your mouth and pokes his tongue inside. 

He groans and rubs your pussy through the cotton. You clench your legs around him as his other hand cradles your head. The journal falls to the floor forgotten as he grunts and twitches. He prods you through his pants once more. 

“Sweetie, you’re hurting me,” he utters against your cheek. 

“Oh, no,” you try to push off of him, “I’m sorry--” 

“No, no, I just need... need you to help me,” he purrs as he leans back and looks you in the face. “Sweetie, did I ever tell you how pretty your mouth is.” 

“What?” You can’t help but smile and his eyes cling to your lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, when... when we are you know... together, I always watch it. The way you curl your lip when you cum...” he drags his thumb along your lower lip. “Do you wanna use your mouth on me? Like I do you?” 

Your chest pounds and your ears singe. You only ever did that with Andy and you didn’t like it but you like Steve and things are nice with him. You bite down on your lip and his eyes fixate on the movement. You squeeze his hand between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you answer as you trace along his cheekbone. He is so handsome and his eyes are so brilliant and bright and he’s taken care of you. And you want to enjoy the time when it’s the two of you. 

You squirm and he lets you go. You get off his lap and he groans again. He drapes his arms over the chair and leans into the puckered leather. He sets his feet wider and watches you. You stand before him, buzzing with nerves. 

“Go on, sweetie, you’re in control.” 

You hesitate. Huh? You only ever do what others wanted. But he’s handing you the reins and now you feel you might get tangled in them. 

You come close again and look down at the bulge in his pants. Your eyes round and you look at him. He urges you on with a nod. You grab his pants and flick open the fly. You’re trembling. You finally get his zipper down and fall to your knees. 

He groans and wriggles in the seat. You reach into his boxers and pull him out. You hold him lightly and he drones, “tighter.” You squeeze and drag your hand up to his swollen head. He shudders and grips the armrests until the creak. 

“Oh, sweetie.” 

“Does it hurt?” You ask. 

“No, it’s good,” he growls, “oh, baby, please, put it in your mouth.” 

You stare at his dick. You can’t look him in the face. You lean in and breathe warmly over him. He twitches again. You press your lips around him and he voice rumbles from his chest. He grunts as you spread your mouth over his tip and slide him inside. 

You push your tongue to him as you move your hand down to his base and he whimpers. 

“Dove,” he reaches to cradle the back of your head, shoving you down, “like that.” 

You take him until you nearly gag. He lets you up but not off, pushing you deep again. He rocks his hips in time with his guiding hand. 

“Touch yourself, too,” he orders, his timbre turning gruff. 

You hum around him and keep your head bobbing. Your spit plasters over the side of your hand and around your lips. The sucking noise fills your ears and curdles deep in your stomach. You’re both intoxicated and disgusted by the sloppy act. 

He says it’s up to you. You can’t stop if you want to, right? But you don’t want to stop. 

You snake your hand down under your skirt. You touch where he had. The cotton is wet. You slip your fingers around the edge of your pants and flick over your clit. You whine around him and he moves you faster, up and down his length. A saltiness mingles with your saliva. 

“Ooh, sweetie, oh, you’re so good. So good. You treat me so good, don’t you?” He snarls as he clutches your hair in his fist. “Mmm, do you feel good too? Are you wet? Mm, I know you are. Just thinking about the way you take me, I’m almost... I’m about too...” 

You try to pull off as you feel his pulsing in your mouth. He doesn’t let you. He holds you in place and pumps his dick into you from below. 

“No, please, I want you to taste me, baby. Don’t you want to taste me? Mm, I know you do. Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Are you ready, baby? Swee-ee—etie.” 

He spasms and cums, filling your mouth and throat. You choke and it shoots up your nose so you can smell it. You cough around him and your spit and his semen dribble out around him and leak onto your hand. He lets you go and you pop your mouth off of him and spit into your hand. 

“Mm, I’m sorry, sweetie, I couldn’t hold it,” he cups his sac as his dick flops against his pants. “You’re too good.” 

“It’s... okay,” you rasp and swallow what you can. “I just...” 

You pull your other hand free from your panties and search around for a tissue. You get to your feet and wobble around to the box on his desk. You stop at he red streaked down to your knuckles. Shoot. 

“Oh...” you stare at the mess, “I think...” 

“Mm,” he groans as the chair echoes him, “ah, that’s okay, sweetie, I don’t mind a bit of blood.” 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly wipe you fingers clean. 

“It’s natural, sweetie. It means you’re healthy,” he purrs. “You know, you should put that in your journal too. Track your cycle, make sure you’re regular. Stress can really affect your flow.” 

“Oh, I guess... sure...” you turn back to him as he plays with his softening cock. 

“Mm,” he strokes slowly. “I still wanna feel you on me, sweetie.” 

“But--” 

“I told ya, I don’t care,” he sits up and sighs. “How about you bend over the desk? I like your bum.” 

“Oh,” you nod and face the desk. You can say no, you just have to say it. Say it. “Okay.” 

He stops behind you and pushes his pants so they heap at his feet. He grabs your hips and wrenches your skirt up. He scratches you as he pulls down your panties and you squirm in embarrassment. You don’t want him to get all bloody but he says it’s not a big deal. You don’t want to disappoint him. 

“I’m a doctor, sweetie. You know, it’s good to do this while you’re menstruating,” he bends his knees and pokes along your cunt. “It helps with cramps.” 

He thrusts into you, forcing you to your toes and you brace the desk to keep from falling forward. He grips the back of your neck, his other hand tight on your hip, and he ruts into you. There’s no patience left in him and you really just want it to be over. 

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

SKZ Sub!Felix x Dom!FTM Reader

Summary: You are both roommates, you are stressed and need some relief and Felix being the best man he is, helps you by asking him for help.

Theme: Smut, is kinda short, comedy, fluff, kinda cringe

Warning: You don't have a bottom surgery however it is called a 'Dick'. Mentions of your dick being as Folds/Core but not as much. Practically Felix giving you a mighty good stress relief head and handjob. Kinda lazy but not...the grammar might be very bad. It's practically just Felix giving you oral, a handjob, and the end. You called him a good boy a few times. Hair pull and Head control (Felix receiving)

(This is all for fanfic, not real, yeah)

Author note: I finally made and posted something after all of these years...

please like, reblog, or/and comment on feedback etc

College was stressing you out; it was your junior year of college, and finals were coming up. You spend your days cramped in your room studying besides stepping out to get something to eat while your roommate, Felix, sits on the couch eating popcorn while watching his fifth movie, not bothered to notice your presence, not like you care anyway. 

You and Felix have been roommates for 2–3 years; technically, You both are best friends. You both thought living in an apartment together would be fun so you both did exactly that, sharing half of the money to pay the rent.  

He knew you were a transgender man when you first came out to him around your freshman year, giving him a heads up just in case he wanted to switch roommates; however, Felix stayed, not caring about gender, sexuality, etc. He was honestly chill with it, so you both got along right away, along with your hobbies and interests. 

You wasted your hours writing notes, reading, and not giving a single break, making you stressed and in need of relief. 

So, you pause the alarm as you lean back from your chair, staring at the ceiling, sighing from the headache that is making you rub circles on the sides of your forehead, hoping the ache can disappear. 

“I need to get laid.” You whispered to yourself as you looked down at your shorts, having the urge to just touch yourself—something to release the stress—so you did. You rubbed the lining of your boxers where your dick was feeling a bit of pleasure, filling your body and making you sigh.

It wasn’t much, it wasn’t enough; you needed more, but that’s all you got. You continued until Felix, the gentleman he is, barged into your room without even knocking as he stared at you in quite shock. 

You stopped what you were doing as you stared back, looking at him with a huge, concerned expression on your face.

“Felix, first of all...”

“I am so so so so sorry! It’s just that the movie I watched pissed me off, and I had to rant to someone, so I thought it was a good idea to rant it out to you since you are here and doing work, so I thought, ” Felix rambles while blushing furiously as he tries not to look at where your hand is placed. 

“Okay, Felix, first of all, please stop talking.” Felix immediately obeys, shutting his mouth as he just slowly blinks at you. 

“2nd, you should've knocked; you never know what I'm doing.” 

Felix frowns a bit as he looks to the side as he gets scolded by you.

“3rd, since you are here, I do need help.” Now that caught Felix's attention as he looked back at you, processing what you meant as he slowly turned red again.

“You want my help? I- uhh…” He stutters, causing you to just laugh at his sputtering.

“Come on, Felix, I know you want to at least touch me. Do you think I haven't noticed the way you looked at me or around my ex-lovers every time they kissed me? You bet you even wish you were them…”

“But better.” 

You looked at Felix as he stared at you, licking his lips.

“Yes, maybe. If you help me, that is... Unless you can’t prove it, then that's fine. I'll find another way.” 

Felix quickly shakes his head as he walks up to you, getting on his knees as he looks up at you for your permission to continue.

You nodded as you felt his hands reach through your shorts, pulling them down. He notices how wet you are from your boxers as he licks his lips one more time, his fingers teasing the lining of your dick, which causes you to shimmer in his touch.

“Come on, Felix, be a good boy for me. I’m desperate and in need of relief, you know that?” Felix blushes again at the pet name you have given him as he just nods, grabbing onto your boxers, pulling them down, and finally revealing your wet dick. 

Felix gulps as he brings back his fingers and starts touching around the wet folds, then to your sensitive dick from all of the rubbings you did. You moaned slightly, biting your lip as you stared down at the man, touching and touching.

His fingers rubbed your dick up and down, giving you a handjob. As his other hand moves his hair away, he gets ready to suck you off, but it keeps on coming back to the front, irritating the poor man.

So, being the nice roommate you are, you grabbed onto his hair and pulled back for him, almost taking control of his head. He moans from the stretch of his hair as he mumbles a ‘thank you’.

You felt his head leaning in from you, holding his hair in place, reaching through your dick, giving it a few kitty licks until he finally opened his mouth wider as he sucked your dick, making you moan, finally feeling the relief you needed. 

He was trying to multitask with his fingers rubbing your dick and his head giving you a good suck. 

His eyes were staring up at you, moaning from the pleasure that he was giving you, and he even felt himself getting confident from his actions, as he had never had sex before or something like this, so he was happy to see you enjoying it.

Your bottom hips move as you feel the sudden urge to take control of his head, wanting him to go faster, so you do. 

Firstly, you grip his hair, pulling his head back as his tongue was a bit out, staring at you confused, whimpering a bit from the loss of contact with his mouth to your dick.

You smiled as you leaned in, kissing his forehead and then his cheek, praising him for how good he was making him smile.

“Felix, do you mind letting me take control of your head?” Felix shakes his head. 

“No, darling, do you ever want, please?” You smiled as you pulled his head back to your dick, feeling his mouth already back into action as you kept his head in there, moving his head around for a bit.

“Just tap my thigh when you need a breather, alright?” 

His humming response vibrated through your core, making you moan slightly. 

“Fuck, you're so good at this, Felix. I almost feel like you are a natural, just for me. What good you are. 

He tapped your thigh for a breather. You pulled his head out to let him breathe as you noticed a bit of a wet spot on his sweatpants. 

You smirked, commenting on it, teasing him. "Oh, look, you even came untouched; how cute! Just from all of my praises. 

Felix looks away out of embarrassment.

“No need to be embarrassed; it’s cute, like I said. Now, let’s go back; I’m almost there.” Felix nodded as you pushed his head back in.

Felix sucked harder and faster, rubbing your dick at such a quick pace that you almost felt like you were in heaven. It was too good.

“Fuck, fuck~ Felix, I’m about to come!” You moaned as you tried to pull his head back, but he wouldn’t budge. He continued until you came. 

Felix pulled back a bit, as some of the substance was on his face. He licks around as he stares at the state you are in. 

You sighed, feeling your legs twitch a bit.

“Did I do good?” 

You nodded as you took the tissue that was on your desk and wiped its face off. 

“You did so well; I'm so proud of you. You are better than my exes.” You smiled as you gave him more kisses. “Thank you, Felix.”

“You’re welcome!”

[soongyeopsal]

Hi babe.

Could I get your thoughts on my baby Mingyu and orgasm denial? Him receiving because he is a good whiny puppy.

Thank you, I love you.

▸ Pairing: Mingyu x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp / established relationship

If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: sub!Gyu, soft dom reader, light bondage, some begging, orgasm denial

▸ Word Count: 968

▸ A/N: I went insane writing this actually so 🥴🥴🥴 Impeccable taste for requesting this, ty Mars ilu. Thank you and also sorry to @shuadotcom who seems unwell after beta reading this. 🙏

Mingyu is such a good puppy. So good, in fact, that you often feel the need to torture him. It sounds like a punishment, but for Mingyu it’s simply the leadup to some of the hardest orgasms he’s ever had. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say it’s torture for you; you’re always soaked within minutes and have to remind yourself not to cum twice as often as you remind him.

Tonight is particularly difficult for you. Mingyu’s been stressed lately, so he’s especially eager to be tied to a chair and submit to your will. He’s naked, a twinkling sheen of sweat adorning tight muscle as his cock stands up, curving deliciously toward his stomach. A layer of precum covers him from the tip of his dick down to his balls, each vein on his aching shaft glistening in the dim light of your shared bedroom. You’ve been working him up for 30 minutes now and like the obedient boy he is, he hasn’t cum yet. 

Seated on the floor between his open legs, you run your fingertips along his thighs, grinning as Mingyu exhales shakily above you. “You’re wetter than I am, puppy. All this is for me?”

“Mmhmm!” Mingyu hums immediately, hoping that he’ll be rewarded for answering as he’s been trained. 

For his troubles, you lean in and place your slick lips around just the head of cock, tongue swirling around to capture the seemingly endless pre leaking from the tip. Mingyu’s entire body lurches against his restraints as he practically wails; if not for the rope tethering him to his seat, he’d be at the back of your throat. You hold him in your mouth like that for only a few seconds, but that’s all it takes for the pitch of Mingyu's whines to change. They’re high and desperate, signaling just how close he is to completion. 

You pull away before he gets there, mouth slightly open so a thread of your saliva mixed with his essence can hang between his tip and your bottom lip. Looking up at him through your eyelashes like this is delightfully obscene and Mingyu tells you this by keening loudly when his gaze meets your eyes. The thread finally snaps when you smile up at him and praise him for being so good. 

Taking a moment for your own arousal to subside, you go back to feather-light touches, skimming over Mingyu’s balls and then his stomach and legs – everywhere but where he needs you most. Mingyu’s gotten a bit squirmy now, panting through every second of contact as if an electric current runs from you to him. It’s not until you can’t take anymore that you offer him real relief.

“Wanna cum?” you ask, resettling on your knees as you squeeze your thighs together, arousal spreading between them.

“Yes!” Mingyu shouts accidentally, too keyed up to hold himself together anymore. He corrects himself immediately, though, tucking his chin into his chest in appeasement. ��Y-yes, sorry, yes. Please. Yes, I want to cum.”

Mingyu often trips over his own words when he’s flustered, but he takes things to a whole new level when he’s looking for release. It’s cute and you tell him so, giggling over the embarrassed pout he tries to hide even as you close both hands into tight fists around his length. 

There’s no need for teasing anymore – not when you’re both this needy. You put your shoulders into it, working Mingyu’s cock with so much vigor that you’re sure he can tell you’re just as desperate for him to cum as he is. Minyu’s entire body stiffens as the ropes bind him in place and a broken sob tumbles from his lips. 

“Mingyu,” you call. It falls on deaf ears at first – on another day, that’s definitely punishable – so you have to add more bass to your voice as you slow down to bring him back to you. “Mingyu, baby.”

The sound that bubbles up from Mingyu’s throat is something between a growl and a moan. He has to force himself to focus on you and not the pleasure that’s threatening to send him to another dimension. Even then, the most he can muster in response is, “Huh?”

“Is puppy ready to cum?” Your tone is patient, though the situation between your legs is dire. 

You already know what his answer is and close your fingers around him even tighter, almost painfully as you start to work him again. The glide of your soft palms on his cock is heavenly and more importantly, inescapable.

Mingyu’s “yes” that follows has a trail of “s”s before he starts outright babbling, “Yes, yes, yes please, yes, please, yes, please, please, please, yes, PLEASE!” The last one is somehow both a shout, yet breathless as Mingyu finally cums, thick ropes of white painting stomach.

After what feels like an eternity, Mingyu’s form goes lax in the chair, sated. He hums appreciatively feeling you lightly squeeze at the muscles of his legs, then his arms, then as your fingers splay across his chest as you lean up to kiss him tenderly.

“Feel good, pup?” you whisper when you pull away to rest your forehead against his. “So good,” he whispers back. “Thank you.” He closes his eyes as he basks in the joint warmth of you and afterglow. 

You sit there like that, enjoying each other as your heart rates come down together. When you start to move, Mingyu figures it’s to untie him so you can cuddle. But then he feels dainty fingers scooping the cooling spunk off his abs and opens his eyes to catch you spreading it on your drenched pussy before taking some more to start pumping his dick back to full mast. 

“Won’t you be a good puppy and make me feel good, too?”

[cilil]

Maeglin trembled slightly when he felt hot breath tickling his ear and heard Mairon's whisper. "Would it please you if I told you that you are one of very few people who are not insufferable? That you have potential? That you are, admittedly, rather adorable when you try so hard for our projects, for me?" 

✦ ⁺ ‧ Day 6 ⁺ Mairon x Maeglin ✦ ⁺ ‧ Synopsis: [Post-canon AU, Fourth Age Valinor] Mairon finds out that Maeglin enjoys being praised. ✦ ⁺ ‧ Featuring/prompts: Hook-up/casual sex, unusual location, semi-public(ish), praise kink, handjob ✦ ⁺ ‧ Warnings: Nothing except that it's smut Also available on AO3

AN: Day 6 of @silmsmutweek. Almost done, but still going strong!

"How is the project going?" 

Maeglin nearly missed the next hammer strike on the piece of iron he was currently shaping with utmost concentration, startled by the Maia's voice. Mairon had walked into the forge without making any noise or announcing himself, like a wraith gliding effortlessly through shadows, and was already standing behind him by the time he lifted his head. 

"I believe this piece is... almost complete," he said tentatively. 

Mairon accepted his answer with a quick nod, first looking over his shoulder to critically survey his work, then moving around the anvil for closer inspection. 

At least no obvious mistakes, Maeglin mentally reassured himself. His father had always been a strict and demanding teacher – he remembered it well even after all these years – and Mairon was said to be no different; though for some reason beyond his comprehension, the Maia had decided to be friendly with him and accept his company where his kin wouldn't, and so he had turned to Aulë's forges with an unexpected companion that shared his learned craft, offered to teach him and, most importantly, didn't call him traitor. 

Unaffected by the heat of the glowing metal, Mairon carefully took it to measure its weight and size with his bare hands and eyes, and Maeglin was once again reminded that his new teacher greatly surpassed even Eöl in skill, experience and power, being one of the Ainur and one Aulë's first students who had honed his craft since the dawn of the world. The thought was both obvious and incomprehensible to an Elf of Middle-earth who had grown up away from Valinor and looked up to his father, his young fëa never quite shaking off the naive awe with which he had regarded him. 

And with this realisation came once more the fear of failure that gnawed at Maeglin so often. Anxiously, he watched as Mairon placed the piece of iron back in its original position on the anvil and nodded thoughtfully. 

"You are correct. It is almost complete." 

Relief caused Maeglin to finally release the breath he had been holding. 

"Just a little more and this one will be exactly how we need it to be. Go on." 

Mairon sat down on the nearby workbench and crossed one leg over the other. The thought of him watching made Maeglin fidget nervously, but before he could worry about it too much, the Maia's long fingers swiftly seized a piece of cloth and a box containing gemstones, deliberately distracting himself. 

Thank you. Maeglin turned back towards his anvil and focused on the task at hand, thinking about every movement before he made it to be as precise as he possibly could. Ruining a piece so shortly before completion was the worst thing that could happen, as Mairon had told him before. Especially now that he could prove to someone that he was capable of something. 

One strike. Two, three. Almost there, but not quite. 

Four, five. Still not perfect, he could feel it even though his hands couldn't touch hot metal. 

Six, seven. There. He wasn't entirely confident in his judgement, but he feared that an eighth strike would do more harm than good. 

Maeglin lowered his hammer and looked up at Mairon whose eyes were on him immediately. 

"Yes?" 

He had to know what the meaning of this gesture was, but he wanted him to say it, Maeglin quickly realised. 

"I think it's done." 

"Show me." 

His hand trembled slightly when he picked up the piece of metal with his tongs and held it up for Mairon to repeat his inspection. 

"Mhmm... yes, it is." There was a small smile on the Maia's lips, a rare sight. "Now it is exactly what we need. Well done." 

Well done... Maeglin carefully cooled his work in a nearby bucket of water and felt a rush of excitement he hadn't experienced in a long time, if ever before. He had always hungered for praise, to feel like the people he admired acknowledged him – and now he had finally received it, from an Ainu no less. A small crumb, a few simple words, something that shouldn't make him this happy and have him immediately wanting more, yet it did. Though what could he possibly do to get more than he had already received, which was more than he had thought he would deserve – 

His thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly felt Mairon's hands on his shoulders and noticed that he was standing behind him. 

"You like it when I say that." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Maeglin's cheeks flushed bright red when he realised how easily the Maia had seen through him. What had given it away? Had he smiled or blushed by accident? He silently cursed himself. Why couldn't he just act like a normal Elf and be the son, nephew, cousin or student the people around him wanted him to be? 

"It... it was just nice to hear," Maeglin attempted to explain himself, hoping his answer could cover up his lapse in self-control yet also be honest enough to satisfy Mairon; he would know if he lied to him, he had learned as much after various failed attempts. 

"Would you like to hear more?" 

The question caught Maeglin off-guard. What was the meaning of this? Was he being toyed with? His muscles tensed reflexively when he felt Mairon's hands rubbing his shoulders, only for him to instinctively lean into his touch and relax soon after – his palms were so wonderfully warm, firm and strong, but not too callous. He wondered how long it had been since he had felt anything like this, being touched by another who wanted to, not out of bare necessity. 

His silence seemingly was enough of an answer, though part of him suspected Mairon had already seen through him. In fact, this also was what had drawn him in when they had first met – the faint, inexplicable, but undeniable feeling that this Maia, out of all the beings he had met throughout his life and after, was someone who knew him, understood him even. 

Maeglin trembled slightly when he felt hot breath tickling his ear and heard Mairon's whisper. "Would it please you if I told you that you are one of very few people who are not insufferable? That you have potential? That you are, admittedly, rather adorable when you try so hard for our projects, for me?" 

He made another mistake then, turning his head to glance at the Maia, assuming that he surely had to be joking, and was met with the heat of burning golden eyes. 

There was no need to lie – not that he could have even if he wanted to. 

"Yes," he admitted in a shaky voice. "It would – it does please me." 

Mairon reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, an unexpectedly tender gesture. "And I do mean it as well, in case you had any doubts about that."

Need flared up within Maeglin's very being, like a jet of flame ignited by his words. It was the last sentence in particular that touched something inside of him, something which had long been neglected and lain dormant, and it kept echoing in his mind. 

He needed to know. He had to know if Mairon had meant it, lest he get caught in a web of false hopes and dreams again. 

"You... think of me as... adorable?" Maeglin asked shyly. 

"I do." Mairon studied his face, watching his mien shift back and forth between confusion and elation. It seemed to please him. "Though I could also call you pretty or handsome, if you prefer that."

Maeglin's thoughts raced. It was too good to be true, wasn't it? In his previous life, he hadn't managed to catch the interest of other Elves, yet now an Ainu was complimenting him. His eyes shone with hope and doubt alike, and he knew Mairon perceived it too. 

"Will you ask me to prove that I am not lying to you, Maeglin?" The Maia chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't say no to that."

"I... May I...?" 

"Say that you want it and it shall be yours."

The offer was too sweet to pass up. Maeglin nodded eagerly. 

"Yes. I want it." 

"Excellent." 

Without hesitation, Mairon took his hand and led him to a small side room of the forge, his own personal sanctuary where he sketched his projects and stored plans and tools – at least according to rumours. Much like everyone else, Maeglin hadn't dared to enter without explicit permission. From what he could glimpse in passing, the rumours seemed accurate, but his attention was firmly focused on the Maia himself who led him to a wolf pelt on the floor. 

Despite his inexperience with matters of courtship and intimacy, Maeglin was not naive. He knew where this was going and felt a mixture of excitement, curiosity and nervousness; he remembered how the other Elves of Gondolin would sometimes exchange stories about such encounters, how they would start bragging about their "conquests" when wine flowed freely and loosened their tongues and how inadequate he had felt. There was a performance of sorts that would be required of him, he had often thought, and he could only hope that Mairon would be willing to teach him in these matters as well. 

At least none of them ever bedded an Ainu, a giddy voice inside him whispered when the Maia sat down and guided him to sit on his lap, facing him. Mairon was quite simply stunning, admirable in more ways than one, blessed with an otherworldly beauty that not even the most beautiful among the Elves could quite match. He was like a perfect synthesis of fire given form and the masterpiece of a famous sculptor, fair and frightening at the same time. Merely thinking about being held and touched by him caused Maeglin to shudder in anticipation, his desire beginning to show. 

Mairon caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, then let it trail down his neck and spine, visibly pleased to see his body responding to his touch. 

"Do you have... experience with these things?" he inquired. 

Maeglin was surprised that he would even ask, suspecting that he had made his lack thereof rather obvious, but he found himself appreciating it. 

"I don't," he admitted. His fingers twitched nervously as he wondered where he should put his hands. 

"Then I shall go easy on you." When Mairon saw a shadow of disappointment falling over his face, he added, "I don't want to hurt you, Maeglin. If I did, I wouldn't prove to you that I meant what I said." 

He reached for Maeglin's hands and placed them on his shoulders before undoing the laces of his breeches and freeing his hardening cock with slow, meticulous movements. 

"This time, your task shall be to enjoy yourself. Can you do that for me?" 

Maeglin nodded, but Mairon wasn't satisfied yet. "Verbal, dearest." 

"Y-yes." 

"Good." His smile was radiant. "You are doing so well already." 

Alongside his growing lust, Maeglin felt his chest swell with pride. He was doing well... His cock twitched eagerly when Mairon's fingers wrapped around it and started stroking him with deft, skillful movements. As pleasant as his hands rubbing his shoulders had been, this was even better. Too many nights had his own hand been his only companion, but just like the shaping of metal, the Maia had mastered the art, whereas he hadn't. 

His nails dug into unyielding shoulders, and he would have looked down to watch how he was being touched if soft, full lips hadn't captured his. Mairon kissed him gently at first, restraining his passion for the moment, and Maeglin responded to the best of his ability. He knew he was clumsy and sloppy, breaking the kiss to offer a breathless apology, but his companion cut him off by teasing the tip of his cock with his thumb. 

"I told you to enjoy yourself. Don't forget it," Mairon whispered. 

Maeglin could only nod and whimper, rolling his hips forward to increase friction. 

"There you go. That's my good little Elf." 

And he was mercilessly kissed again, muffling a litany of small moans and whines. It felt like he was floating, his fëa light and warm from the praise he kept receiving, his hröa drunk with bliss as he was being pleasured by marvellous, masterful hands. Maeglin was shamelessly moving his hips now, grinding on Mairon's lap; he didn't want this to stop, but the sensation was too much for him, and he spilled his seed all over the Maia's hand. 

He stopped moving and sat on his lap, unsure how to proceed. Of course he had long since noticed the sizable bulge he had been rutting against, yet he couldn't tell what exactly would be expected of him. Should he return the favour? Should he offer his body? 

Mairon planted another warm, wet kiss on his lips before he withdrew. "Don't worry about me. I meant it when I said I wouldn't ask too much of you."

"But I want to make you feel good as well," Maeglin protested. 

"Another time, dearest. And only if you truly desire it." 

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

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[secretaryunpaid]

I posted 13,658 times in 2022

107 posts created (1%)

13,551 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chickensarentcheap

@angelasscribbles

@bikeresforeverforeverbikers

@jerzwriter

@munstysmind

I tagged 262 of my posts in 2022

#@secretaryunpaid - 59 posts

#@becoming mrs. dalton - 53 posts

#spotify - 32 posts

#choices fandom - 23 posts

#becoming mrs. dalton - 23 posts

#youtube - 18 posts

#writing - 17 posts

#eyes wide shut au - 16 posts

#secretaryunpaid - 16 posts

#nature - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 102 characters

#teru would’ve been included lol but i don’t draw much mp100 fanart and he’s from a manga not a book d:

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Prompt Time!!

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“Shut up and kiss me already”

“You don’t have to be gentle. I won’t break”

@munstysmind I immediately thought of Sam & Dahlia for these! I love these! They remind me of Mr. He used to love it when I wore his shirts but teased me like he didn't... Truth is, I just wanted to lay in his scent until he made me take it off, lol... You know... Put on his favorite TAPOUT tee-shirt knowing he'd want or take me out of it, lol... Such the little devil I used to be...

Okay, enough with the TMI... Let's get down to this fic!!!

Loving Me on You...

Rating: Mature/Explicit, not intended for minors

Warning(s): Sexual lingo/lyrics, sex act

Word Count: 1,210 approximately

See the full post

35 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

#4

Wednesday WIP…

Eyes Wide Shut …

Liam x Riley:

Snippet 1:

“Don’t speak of Regina in that way…” Before he can say anything else, she throws her hands up in surrender and pivots on her heels to hastily exit. He catches her wrist, which was no easy task because she was furiously swinging her balled fists in her stride to be anywhere but standing before him. She turns the knob and opens the door which he forces closed, pressing her against it gently. “Let go of me Liam Rhys or it will be hell on your genitals!” He gently pulls them back away from the door a few paces.

His quick release of her wrist and his weight against her wasn’t because he feared she would actually make good on her threat, he could easily overpower her. He just didn’t want her temper escalated any further. “My queen… Rile-” Eyes falling closed, his lips brush against her ear, trail the length of her neck… and then there is only a chilling breeze against his lips. The door closes as his eyes open to see that she has taken her exit. He can’t seem to get past this point with her… The throb in his loins has him standing stationary… What is a King supposed to do for focus at this point? 

Snippet 2:

"Liam, I'm so sorry... I just can't do this anymore... I- ..."

His lips drown out the words his mind refuses to hear... His kiss relays anxiety, desperation, need, and confusion which Riley picks up on instantly, returning the intensity before pulling away. "Riley, no! ... You... You're the blood coursing through my veins, the air rushing through my lungs, the tears flowing from my eyes, the synapses of my brain... You consume every part of me !!! Even the sweat on my brow during exercise reminds me of the passion you bring out in me... Don't say that you no longer love me... that you'll no longer be mine... I ... I'm not even this weak man that you see standing before you now in absolute vulnerability!!! Can I rule this Kingdom alone? YES !!! Am I willing to without you, NOT on your life or mine !!! Tell me what I must do!!!"

Ethan x Riley:

“So you're dedicated to the role and not the man?”

“Don't do that to me, Ethan… it's unfair to me. I love Liam!!”

Stepping towards her, he begins gently stroking her neck and bringing his hand slowly around the ridge of her face, taking her chin into his palm, then bringing her timid brown eyes to look into his. In smoldering and yearning eyes, there is the silent but pleading question… “And me?”

“Don't make this into something it's not, Ethan.

prior snippets:

See the full post

36 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

#3

Eyes Wide Shut ... Introduction

See the full post

37 notes - Posted August 23, 2022

#2

The Claim...

Recovering what was lost isn’t always easy... but on rare occasions, it’s as simple as a kiss...

See the full post

44 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Sunday Six…

@secretaryunpaid

Eyes Wide Shut... Work In Progress

At some point, this will finally reach completion...

Pairing in this snippet: King and Queen Rhys

Rating: Mature/Explicit

This has been a work in progress since November 2021... Let's hope it doesn't take me until November 2022...

See the full post

44 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ashes-of-alar]

An Open Letter To FR Staff & Users (But Mostly To Staff)

This post will be long and I'm sure one or two people will deem it as brown-nosing staff, so here's a read more because I love my friends and followers and anyone perusing the Flight Rising tag. This is a very long post.

Preemptively, yes, you can reblog and add on, but I probably won't respond, as immediately after posting I'm muting this post.

There are 3 TLDRs under the read more, alongside the bulk of the post. Again. This is very, very long. 2.4k words long. I have 9 years of thoughts rattling around in this post.

TLDR for section 1 (No Wait!! Only Dragon): The art staff needs to draw, adjust and recolor (if this is seen past 3/24/23, over.) 7,244 individual pieces of apparel for every new modern breed (this is including both poses, not just one pose) they add, along with 324 genes (including f pose, m pose and h pose) and make sure all 177 colors with 2,680,125 combinations of colors possible (I.. I think? This is including all 3 poses also. Additionally, if I'm not wrong, they have an algorithm handle coloring to make things easier, but it doesn't change the fact that these still need to all be tested as they come up. Also this doesn't include every gene and gene combo, so uh, you can have fun with THAT math) don't break anything, and paired with their 'no crunch policy' it is no surprise we need to wait 5+ years between modern breeds, and even without modern breeds being taken into consideration, it makes sense that we have glitches with colors and genes just breaking.

TLDR for section 2 (Communication): Staff (Specifically those in positions like Aequorin, where they can be a bridge between coders/artists/etc and users) needs to communicate more with their users in regards to accessibility rollouts, issues with 'ban waves', false multi-account claims, actual multi-accounters being unnoticed for some time, etc. Full stop. The lack of communication can be a bit egregious, but it's slowly gotten better.

TLDR for section 3 (Final Thoughts): Staff messes up. With people they hire, things they do and decisions they make - We see it a lot more because they're effectively 20 or so people being eyeballed by (as of writing this) 4,221 people. So does the userbase. But we don't see that as much because the average user does not have 4.2k eyes on them at any given moment. But they're just a bunch of humans. They still deserve to be treated like them, even if you don't agree with every single thing they do.

v-v-Actual Post-v-v

To start, please know, I have been an active user off and on since 2014. This is not coming from a user who has been coddled by the release of Obelisks and onward. Additionally, I have plenty ill opinions on staff and some of the hills they've decided to dig their heels in on, as they are not perfect, no one is, but I would like to write this post to no one either way. This is more so in regards to their 'no crunch policy' and several other things that I've noticed over the years.

I'll focus on my main and only issue here first, the "no crunch policy." I'm not sure if they've ever quite explained what they mean by that, but, at a glance, it means they don't make their artists rush to finish pieces, which is fine, however it becomes frustrating as a user when they keep, in the case of Aberrations, putting the release off because of a 'no crunch policy.' There is a definite difference between not crunching and ensuring your artists adhere to a release schedule- That is to say if Stormlight Workshop intends to handle Flight Rising like a professional website, then they need to hire artists with the intent of making a set release date, rather than hiring them under the pretense of 'not crunching under any circumstances, ever.' Realistically, we should've gotten Aberrations a little sooner than we did.

Now, staff has said on multiple occasions they are always working on new breeds, and only in the 2020s have we been able to get a good view of that being true, as we have had three Ancient breed releases in the past 12 months alone, a massive step up from the previous release 'schedule' where we got two in 2014 (Coatls, Nocturnes), one in 2016 (Bogsneaks), two in 2019 (Gaoler, Banescale), one in 2020 (Veilspun), one in 2021 (Obelisks), two in 2022 (Aberrations, Undertides) and one (so far) in 2023 (Aethers).

This isn't to be ignorant towards the artists employed at Stormlight Workshop and the fact that artists regularly, without fail, get absolutely shafted when it comes to income VS the work they put in and time constraints, etc, to the point where freelance artists (the average artist you'd commission off of Tumblr or other social networking sites) need to greatly undersell their commissions to even get one commission. For example, an artist who I'd put their art at maybe 45/50$ for one fullbody charged 20$ for a 2 character fullbody with full shading and details, it is that bad when it comes to trying to find work, so I can ABSOLUTELY understand why they'd choose to push for a 'no crunch' policy to give their artist a dang break when it comes to work they receive. However as far as I'm aware, no artists have ever come forward to speak about pay they receive working on Flight Rising assets. This is in no way me claiming they are not paying their artists a fair wage or not paying them at all, this is me saying that no official artist, as far as I am aware, has stated what they are paid and how (gems, USD, etc.), so guesses cannot be made re: hourly pay until then.

This is a very, very long-winded way to say I think the userbase should be a bit.. More understanding re: wait times. I know in recent times, as we've stopped being kids/early 20 year-olds, the agitation in regards to everything has gone down. And I still think the wait can be pretty egregious and I'm hoping we get more modern breeds soon, or a better idea on what release schedules we can look at going forward.

Now. The following segment is not about the art staff and issues in regards to the waits, but the company Stormlight Workshop as a whole. I am not claiming anything I say going forward reflects on the company, workers and staff in a negative light, nor am I claiming any/all of these bans were done to 'get back' at a user, were done 'incorrectly/in error' or were done without reason. These things happen with sites like Flight Rising where they have a smaller staff and cannot 100% screen every single ban/email inquiry re: a false ban/etc. But the communication is an issue all the same.

Moving onto other my secondary, significantly lesser issue is the lack of communication regarding this stuff. Staff - User communication should be kept at a minimum without being cold, snarky, standoffish, etc, (sort of like the behavior Aequorin(? i think that's how you spell her name) displays with users, she can be serious at times and silly others, it depends on the context really!) lest we get sites like PokeFarm Q where the site owner/main coder can be a total jerk and traumadump to a userbase consisting primarily of mentally ill minors while having no repercussions. However, the issue with this comes in when we don't have details regarding breed releases, actual ETA dates for when we're getting (for example) achievements back. Additionally there are some lesser promises that have fallen through that we've gotten no word on, such as more merchandise like the pins we never got, and why it can be such a complete pain in the butt to get Wildclaw scrolls and why they've only been in circulation for a total that's around a month when stuck back to back when they were intended to more 'regularly' cycle. (The post I saw claimed a cumulative 20 - 40 days? I don't recall exactly.)

Additionally, there are the, at times, false ban waves that staff goes on every once in a blue moon that makes a subset of the community lose their collective minds. I have been friends with two users affected by this. One I will not give details to, as they are back on-site under a new account (which is permitted under the pretense they give up on getting their old account back), but her husband and her both got banned. Staff can be very inconsistent with who does and does not get banned for multiaccounting, even while reporting is taken into account, as I've seen what I deemed to be a pretty blatant case not get taken care of for quite some time, when reported.

However I am aware this is very likely a case of personal bias. I am very aware that this is a topic that is very personal to me as I lost a pair of dragons to someone being banned unfairly for multiaccounting (context: they admitted they had an acc prior to their current one on the forums and got banned), and even when they relented the account and just asked that the dragons to be sent back to me, staff refused, per their TOS re: dragon ownership (once it leaves the original owner's lair, ownership is forfeit, so technically they weren't mine anymore). The final case I can think of here is when a user known best for their darker lore and was widely disliked for it being 'problematic' (see: it was dark, and people did not like that) was falsely flagged for multiaccounting and had their account locked, and staff eventually just stopped responding to their emails, so they gave up on waiting and made a new account. (I know that this was false because the user who flagged them admitted to it.)

Next are the many complaints regarding accessibility. Starting at the landing page on the site, it is VERY bright- Painfully so- And those with migraines, eye issues, so on and so forth, are not permitted within site rules to even use an addon to change the way the site looks. I won't do a deep dive into the issues with this, but they claim they 'will see' about a dark mode in the future. I am somewhat photosensitive. Not in the 'rapidly flashing, bright colors can give me a seizure' way, but more in the 'this can give me a migraine' kind of way, so while it is less harmful for me to have it open in a low-lit room, it still isn't particularly pleasant. Even sites several years it's predecessor, like Dragon Cave, even have alternate color schemes for their website, so I never quite understood the logic.

That is to say that things like this are not excusable, especially the lack of a darkmode and basic accessibility features regarding familiar bonding being marginally less painful to do than clicking and pressing left on your keyboard up to 215 times (this is 100% excluding those who bond ALL of their familiars every single day. they are not being counted in here, as even if they are disabled, they are making the intentional decision to bond 1102 familiars every day even if it hurts them) and that is a 'lesser' task that one can do in maybe 5 - 15 minutes if they're on the Desktop version of the website.

The coli captcha being changed was an incredible step forward, one that I'm very pleasantly surprised we actually got. And that's why I think we need to push more on these things in a respectful way. Key emphasis on respect. You obviously won't get anywhere being too gentle and kind and letting staff get away with ableism like the lack of a darkmode and banning of those who use applications to make the screen dark so they can use the site.. It doesn't make the site out to be a very friendly website to users who suffer from various disabilities. But they are making changes to help that. Several users enjoy writing in tiny, barely visible text, so they added a 'toggle text style off or on for this post.'

I know full well that no war was ever won with kindness, but you need to avoid making a donkey of yourself on the public forums- Especially ones where the minimum age is 13. Calling staff stupid/incompetent/nasty names is hurtful, even if you DO feel that way and it's a knee-jerk reaction to the lack of accessibility they seem to be digging their heels in on, that's just not how the real world actually goes.

This is not to say that staff is exempt of criticism, if anything they need to be critiqued more than they are in constructive ways that don't come off guns blazing.

All of this is to say that staff's communication, as a whole, not just about, say, a delay or two, but rather developer updates, needs to be done much better. I feel like I should actively be seeing more developers talking about what's going on rather than just Aequorin sniping misbehaving users and locking a thread, or Undel talking about what she's wanting to update next (for the encyclopedia, full disclosure, nothing too interesting.)

Going three pages into the dev tracker I have only seen the following administrators: Aequorin, Undel, Kaepora and Mutron. Aequorin seems to do a lot of the heavy lifting regarding engaging with the community, which makes sense, she's the community manager, but I sincerely think there needs to be more communication going on, more updates and such that aren't .

I could just be saying that as I feel every website, especially sites like this where a lot of it is on the users to make the fun out of the game, could benefit from more clear, concise communication. I am not asking a lot, I don't think at least, for them to maybe get one or two more community managers and hold more regular Q&A sessions like they used to. It is not right that we need to claw at staff for some of the things that we've gotten after 10 years, and it's not right that staff needs to shake us off their legs like rabid dogs from time-to-time because of a misstep they made that makes a small and very vocal subset of the community go ballistic, which sends ripples out to other parts of the community.

That's about all I have to say. I've been writing this nonstop for almost 3 hours, and I honestly can't think of anything else I have to say. Sorry if it's disjointed/doesn't make sense at times. I guess my very last thought is I don't know what I'd do to change the issues I have. I'd say monthly updates on various aspects of the site or maybe a Q&A, as I feel that's a fair request, given that's the average amount of updates a Kickstarter game gets, but that could prove annoying, frustrating or just ineffective in practice.

But again, I want to put emphasis on this: None of this is in any way, shape or form meant to reflect badly on Stormlight Workshop as a company or it's employees. This is merely a series of opinions I have in regards to Flight Rising, Stormlight Workshop and the staff behind Flight Rising.

[princesscolumbia]

Code of Ethics - Ch. 2 - Sweaty Palms

Well, with Chapter 1 up and the link working now, it's time to get Tumblr all caught up. I'll post Ch. 2 today (with a reblog for tomorrow morning just to be sure) then Ch. 3 tomorrow.

These 4k word chapters are short compared to my usual and I'm having a hard time gauging when to do a cut-off, so if these initial chapters of Code of Ethics seem a little...abrupt, that's why. I'm doing it to match the release cadence of QuietValerie for the rest of the series, and it's working for fast chapter production quite well.

Preview below the cut:

He blinked as his vision was suddenly filled with blackness and the sounds around him jolted from distant traffic to the interior of a busy office. He carefully operated by feel to find his right hand with his left and pulled the stim gloves off one finger at a time. Once freed, his hands went to his ears to remove the sound isolating plugs that, when operational, carried the entire suite of audio his brain would need to interface with the virtual environment via audio channels. He was immediately assaulted by the overly loud and irritatingly pompous voice of Senator Cruz, a blowhard who was on the committee that secured funding for the agency. Dylan kept his thoughts about the senator to the deepest, darkest parts of his mind and prepared to rub elbows with people he’d normally do his best to avoid.

He felt the latches on the helmet being undone and the lower mask portion of the device was pulled away. A quiet voice, almost ‘mousy,’ if a male analyst could be said to be such, murmured into his ear, “The senator wanted to shake hands with you right away. You impressed him today and I don’t know whether to congratulate you or offer condolences. Sorry to rush you but you know these Hill types.” Geoffry wasn’t a boy scout, he was hardly the ‘fit, outdoorsy’ type the scouts were known to recruit, but he did hold a very ‘do good deeds whenever possible’ attitude and Dylan was grateful he’d been able to secure the analyst for his support team.

“Probably the latter,” Dylan muttered as he raised his hands to pull the top half of the helmet away, the neural interface bands peeling off, sticky from his sweat from wearing the thing for hours. Geoffry washed the bands every day, but it didn’t keep the halo of circuits and sensor pads from getting tacky over time. They’re due for quarterly replacement soon anyway, he mused as he started fussing with his hair, I’ll put up with it until then.

As his eyes strained to adjust to the office lighting, he felt a brush put in his hand. Geoffry again, being every bit a ‘Man Friday’ for his assigned agent. Managing to tame his sweaty hair into something resembling a style without a mirror as he sat up, he blinked aggressively, forcing his pupils to focus on the room in a full three dimensions rather than the simulated ‘third dimension rendered on a 2D ocular display with layering to trick the eyes’ he lived about a third of his life in.

Sooner than he’d have liked, the blur that ostentatiously took up far too much space resolved into the somewhat bulky form of Senator Cruz. “Fantastic work, agent…uh…”

Dylan hid his frustration. It wasn’t like their names were printed bit as life over their workstations and all over the displays around them, this was a power move, one the senator had used on purpose.

“Thank you,” was the only reply Dylan gave as he shook the man’s hand. A hand that was far too…plump for a man supposedly only eating the same rations the rest of the country were permitted. If the ‘good’ senator weren’t padding his rations with under-the-table bribes, Dylan would eat his entire workstation with ketchup.

There was a moment of awkwardness, but the other man let it pass. Had this been the senator’s office instead of the agency bullpen, he likely would have made an issue of being upstaged like that, but he couldn’t throw his weight around here. “Yes, well, good job. Tell me,” the pudgy man finally released Dylan’s hand, “What was that bit at the end?”

The image of a teenage girl begging for her life flashed through Dylan’s mind and his jaw flexed, “Just another rogue A.I. trick, sir. We’ll probably be developing tools combat it before too long.”

Dylan’s boss finally stepped subtly between the two of them, “Make sure you’re cleaned up and ready to debrief, agent,” to the senator, he nodded somewhat deferentially, “If you’ll come this way, sir, we’ll show you how the chairs operate. They’re quite a bit more advanced than the toys your kids might have.”

Read the rest on Scribblehub

[sainamoonshine]

Absolutely agree! Everyone’s experience and comfort with spoilers is different, and for many people it also differs from day to day and from one thing to the next.

I may have misunderstood the intention of the original post, but I thought the point was to explain that some people actually like or are indifferent to spoilers, and it’s fine actually? Like, it doesn’t have to be a big deal.

Which is nice to see, because omg yes do people make big deals about that.

Can I rant for a minute?

See, the thing is, I feel like it has always been the commonly agreed thing that people do not want spoilers for new media that just came out. However, in recent years (starting, to my reckoning, around the time Games of Thrones was big), this “spoiler culture” has gotten so ridiculous that it seriously impedes marketing department’s ability to market things.

I talked about it in my review of Project Hail Mary on my blog, but basically the crux of it is that this book is 100% impossible to rec, because a core element of the entire plot, that takes place in like, chapter 3, is deemed a major spoiler. And this element, I shit you not, impacts not only what the story is about, but also it’s genre!

Imagine if the movie Iron Man was called something generic, and the plot synopsis was “a man gets kidnapped in Afghanistan”, and nowhere in the marketing or promos was Iron Man ever mentioned. And people yelled at you if you even dared to mention the fact that the creation of Iron Man is, you know, basically the point of the movie. THAT is what is going on with this book. And that is what seems to be going on nowadays with literally everything that comes out. Books have no blurbs anymore. Trailers are vague AF. I’ve straight up stopped watching new movies or tv shows or even reading books immediately when they get released, because I just don’t know what any of them are about these days! Nobody will tell me!! Sometimes you can’t even get the marketing machine to tell you the GENRE of the thing. Because spoilers I guess. Except I am very particular about what interests me, so I need a little bit more to go on than “it’s a movie, just trust me and go in cold!!!!!1”

Like, there used to be a middle ground. You didn’t spoil the end of that movie where the kid sees dead people, but at least you knew it was a movie where a kid sees dead people!! And if you ASKED about the ending, people would tell you.

These days? I haven’t managed to make someone IRL tell me the main components of a show, let alone the ending, in nearly ten years. Some people get downright agressive about it. They will argue with you about the sanctity of the story of whatever and refuse to tell you anything worthwhile about what its about and then get insulted when you don’t watch their precious show. “But I don’t want to ruin it for youuuuuuuu” is said with condescending, infantilizing vehemence, like I don’t know what I’ve just asked for and should be protected from spoilers for my own good or something.

I’m just asking for basic respect here, and articles like this are good to throw at people’s face to make it cut it out. Like, I know I suck at tagging and I suffer from chronic can’t-shut-my-mouth disease, so I don’t reblog anything or speak about new tv shows or books until about two or three weeks until they’ve been out. In return, I would appreciate it if people didn’t treat me like a fucking weirdo for wanting to know if my favourite character makes it through the episode so I don’t spend all of it suffering from unbearable anxiety about it, and I certainly would prefer it if people didn’t withold that information from me out of some white knighting sense of righteousness.

I assure you, people, I know what I’m doing when I seek out spoilers. I like them. Most of the time they don’t ruin anything for me, and when they do I accept that it’s my own goddamned fault. I’m not lying. I’m not lying. I’m not lying. Tell me what the show is about. Just please just tell me. I can make my own decisions. You don’t get to decide for me how I watch tv. It’s fine.

The thing about spoilers is, I don’t actually think they spoil things for me. That momentary feeling of surprise when the big reveal happens is fun, sure, and I like trying to figure out a mystery on my own.

But I also just really love foreshadowing? Knowing what’s coming up lets me look for all the signs that the creator is laying out for me. It’s a different kind of puzzle, and one that I get just as much satisfaction out of, if not more.

If I enjoy a story, I’ll still enjoy it even if I know how it ends. The most lasting stories we have, as humans, have been spoiled for all of us before we even hear them. Famous tales become a shorthand that we use in every day life. Learning the story of the Trojan Horse actually became more interesting as a result of understanding the phrase first.

There was a time in my life when I didn’t understand people who would flip to the back of a book to read the last page before they started the story, but I think I get it now. There’s a comfort in knowing how things end and an enjoyment in taking the journey regardless.

[ameliasbitvh]

𝐇𝐈𝐌; 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎

a/n: my whore hours have created this ship. and not proofread !! (had to remove gif bc my post was flagged !!)

summary: reader is in the act of cheating on draco with fred (reader is riding fred’s thigh) and draco walks in. fred and draco decide to punish reader.

warning(s): pussy smacking (??), praise, degrading, denial of orgasm, thigh riding, oral sex (males receiving), cheating and dumbification!!

wc: .8k (838)

reblogs are appreciated !!

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I͢..... I͢..... I͢..... I͢..... I͢..... I͢..... I͢..... I͢..... I͢.....

“please, freddie,” you breathlessly moaned against fred’s chest, your hips rocking against his thigh. “please who, darling?”

“please, daddy, want y’cock.” you cried as your hips worked faster, stimulating your whole pretty cunt. his hands found their way to your ass and squeezed it, pushing your core down against his thigh. the pressure felt so good and you were so dumb f’him in the moment that you didn’t even notice the door open, presenting a specific malfoy.

“y/n.” he spoke calmly, too calmly.

your eyes immediately opened in shock, he wasn’t supposed to be back until 7 pm! you immediately got up, your legs wobbling a bit as you try to stabilize yourself, just for fred to grab your waist and push you against him again. “freddie!” you scolded, but it soon turned into whimpers as he grounded your core on his thigh.

“so this is what you do when i’m at work, huh?” draco rolled his tongue against his cheek.

“draco i swear this is the first time! i won’t ever do it again, i promise.” you pleaded.

“but what if i want you to go this again, what if i want to share you. just for one night.” he whispered, stalking towards you and fred. fred grabbed a hold of your chin and pulled your face in his direction and swiped his thumb across your lower lip. “don’t you want us to share you, bunny? want us to fill up that pretty mouth and holes of yours?”

“y-yes, sir.” you whispered.

“what was that? speak up, doll.” draco commanded, his arm resting on the bed post.

“want y’both to fill up m’holes,”

and that’s exactly what they did.

—

your hips rocked against fred’s thigh, draco’s fingers in your mouth, making you gag. “can’t even take my fucking fingers, pathetic.” he scoffed. fred then began moving his leg up and down, adding more pressure to your hot and wet cunt. “freddie, dray, want y’to fuck me, need y’cocks!”

“but do you deserve it princess? no you don’t. your boyfriend just walked in on y’being a whore f’me, fucking m’thigh.” fred chuckled, embarrassing you, heat immediately rushed to your cheeks.

then a thought had appeared in his mind, a lightbulb of ideas running through like a wave of shock.

he and draco were going to edge you.

—

your back arching as fred pulled your hair back, rough rolls of his hips against yours, sounds of your skin clapping. draco’s cock in your mouth, he thrusted into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

“fuck, so good for us pup.” fred growled, his hand colliding with your ass.

you gagged, on the blonde's length. he grabbed a hold of your head and nuzzled your face into his private area, making you take all of him.

“that better princess?” he laughed at you, how pathetic and greedy you were to take both of them.

you hummed in response, sending vibrations throughout his body, causing him to shiver. his high coming closer as you kept humming against him, every moan that you released onto his cock made his body jerk in a way that was out of this world. “poppet, im gonna fucking cum. you gonna swallow like a good girl?”

“mhm,” you hummed again against him, pushing him over the edge. his body shook at the vibrations once again. his cum shot out, down your throat. you swallowed it, pulling away, a smile displayed onto your lips. he grabbed your chin, kissing you as fred continued to slam into your cunt. your eyes rolled back when his tip hit your fucking g spot. a scream leaving your lips.

—

the two boys played with you like their little fuck toy. tweaking at your tits, massaging your clit, filling your cunt up with their cum, they wanted you. all of you.

“who does this pussy belong to?” draco groaned, his cock slipping in and out of your tight cunt. you couldn’t fucking talk, your mouth was full of fred’s cock and the only thing that left your mouth were cries. fred tugged at your hair, pulling your head back. your mouth and the red heads cock were no longer connected like they were before.

an exasperated cough left your lips as you inhaled air, it smelt of musk, mint, cinnamon, cologne and sex. “i-i” only murmurs and babbles left your lips, your mind was utterly fogged. all you could think about was how you haven’t came yet, you wanted to fucking cum. edged three times already and you wanted release.

“look at her, can’t even talk properly, only baby blabbers from those pretty lips.” fred smirked, his thumb caressing your lips.

“too dumb f’us baby, we don’t want you.” draco pouted, fake sympathy lacing every damn word that left his lips that molded so perfectly around yours.

“b-but i want you!” you whined, doe eyes staring at him.

“you certainly didn’t want me when you were humping his thigh like a bitch.”

“all you wanted was him.”

🏷: @underappreciated-spoon-321 @o-rion-sta-r @orphixc @dracoscum @marrymetheonott @l0vely-lupin @kpostedsum @malfoysmainb @drac0spersonalslut @youreso-golden @yiamalfoy @just-a-smol-spoon @dr4cking @dlmmdl @hotgirlwhoreadsff @littlemissnoname13 @mvdbldd @f4iryluvy @wolfstar-lb @itsmentalillness

hmu to be added !!

[ysljoon]

Personal Business|CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Assistant Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+ this is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, noncon sex, public sex, crying, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk (jungkook has a filthy mouth christ), creampie, assault?

Being the personal assistant to Jeon Jungkook definitely has been a rollercoaster of experiences, but after working with him for about 2 years now you’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior such as mood swings and unreasonable demands. Everyone in the workplace has admired how long you’ve stuck around, but the paycheck you receive every two weeks is too pretty to pass up. You saw the listing for the job on a job search website and the pay per hour almost had you pass out, but once you came into the office you realized you were getting paid so generously almost as a test to see if the money could keep you around and it sure has.

Today Jungkook was in an extra gruff mood for the day because he had plenty of meetings to go through and not enough time for proper breaks and that’s the least ideal day for him. He loves breaks as much as any other person, but just tenfold. Everyone in the office is allowed a 45 minute lunch break, but since Jungkook is the CEO he will disappear on 2 hour breaks and not a single person knows where he goes. Not even you and people don’t understand how since you’re practically his right hand. You pay no mind to his whereabouts since it doesn’t affect and busy yourself with whatever tasks Jungkook left for you to do. Today he left no tasks for you since he’s been cooped up in his office occupied with other business officials. You haven’t been able to meet with him to get a briefing for the day so now you’re talking with Taehyung at his cubicle while you share a small pizza he ordered for lunch.

“Taehyung, I’m telling you right now there is no way that Joon and the receptionist don’t have something going on! They’re always eyeing each other up and Namjoon is always requesting for her to come to his office. It’s highly suspect.” You explained your reasoning to Taehyung exasperated and took another bite of your crust.

“Listen Y/N, all I’m saying is that it’s way too obvious for it to actually have any worth. Anyways you know how Mr. Jeon feels about workplace romance; he absolutely abhors the thought and would probably fire people on the spot if he ever found out.”

You continued to have your disagreement with Taehyung for a little while more, but what you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was done with his meeting a while ago and was watching you on his laptop through the camera system and was frowning deeply watching you fraternize with your coworker. He was tired of watching you practically throw yourself at Taehyung when you were his and only his. Jungkook got up from his desk and strode to Taehyung’s cubicle to stop this foolishness immediately.

“Mr. Kim, is there a reason why you are holding up my assistant from her work and why the expense report I asked you to do isn’t done?” Jungkook had a look on his face that he wanted to wring Taehyung’s neck and he was very close to, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to have you in his possession before he got rid of anybody that even tried to look in your direction so for right now this was his version of playing it cool.

“I-I’m very sorry sir it won’t happen again and I’ll get right to it!” Taehyung quickly turned to his computer and fervently typed in his password to get to work immediately. Jungkook then turned to you and grabbed you by the arm to drag you to his office. You were shocked and stunned by this action because sure he had talked to you roughly, but had never put his hands on you. He swiftly pulled you into his office and slammed the door. He even fully shut his blinds. This started to have you scared. He had this look in his eyes that made your body start to tremble. “S-sir I’m sorry for not working! I just wasn’t able to get the daily briefing for today so I tried my best to get work done. I had a lot of free time so I thought to spend it with Taehyung. I’m sorry if that was wasting company time you can deduct it from my pay!” You were heavily breathing by the time you were done with your panicked spiel. Jungkook chuckled at your anxiety and strode towards you till you were backed up into the wall and at this point you thought he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“Darling, if you really want to make it up to me you can kiss me.” He purred in your ear and it sent sickening shivers up your spine. Your head started to spin when you felt him plant his lips on the column of your neck and work his way up to your jaw. You tried to shove him off, but naturally he was able to overpower you and he used his leg and chest to trap you between him and the wall.

“My dear Y/N, I hope you cooperate with me if you know what’s good for you.” He slyly grinned against your skin and started to passionately kiss you. To really show he was in charge he bit down on your bottom lip with force you have never felt before. It had you cry out in pain, but you were quickly silenced when you felt your boss reach under your skirt and start to trace circles against your cunt. He placed a hand against your mouth and gave you a threatening look you have never seen. It was so sinister it had you squirming away from his touch. You thought you could have gotten away but by the time you were able to slide past his body he was grabbing your wrist and slamming you down against his desk which sent things tumbling down to the floor.

“Jungkook, please stop, I'm so sorry!” You didn’t even realize you were bawling at this point, but he ignored your pleas and sobs and continued with his sinister acts. He grasped your wrists in one hand and with his other he slid your panties off and inserted a single long finger into your cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight and wet for me.” He kept pumping his finger into you until he felt like he could insert another one into you. Once the second finger was deep in your hole Jungkook started to pick up the pace and you couldn’t even cry out to what he was doing to you. You felt numb and helpless and wanted him to stop, but your efforts were useless.

“Kitten, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you fucking feel. I want to see you get dumb on my fucking fingers and cock that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. I want you to beg to have your dirty cunt stretched out.” Hearing your boss talk to you like this makes you speechless, but you listen to him because you don’t know what other worse things he can do to you. You let your body succumb to what he’s doing and you let out small moans and whimpers and this makes him let out his own grunts and groans in response. Before you can assess what’s happening when you feel his fingers slip out of your soaked pussy, Jungkook is shoving his cock balls deep into you and you gasp for air feeling the heavy pressure between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts to pound into you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure from hearing skin slap against skin. You feel close to an orgasm and tears are rolling down your cheeks from desperation. “Sir please let me cum! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum all over your cock.” You can’t even process the words you’re saying, you just want to have your release so badly. Jungkook slaps your ass and groans a ‘fuck yes baby’ and just seconds after that action you’re creaming on his thick cock. You feel your walls pulse around your boss and this brings him close to the edge and he’s losing control over himself. He starts to wild slam into your cunt and after a few more pumps he’s spilling his cum into you and you feel delirious from everything that had just happened. You hear him adjusting himself behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to even move at the moment. You hear his steps come close to you and you just lie there motionless while you wait for him to speak. “I can’t wait to bring you home with me princess.” After that sentence all you can recall is a blunt object coming in contact with your skull and nothing else.

Notes: thank you so much for reading I’ve been on a pretty solid hiatus and will crosspost what I have written on AO3 on to here too because I have some fics there that I haven’t posted on to Tumblr! If you enjoyed please like and reblog it really helps and you can also give me a Kofi.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: June 6th, 2021

I’m back with more ask responses! You can also check our Frequently Asked Question sheet if there’s something you’re wondering that’s not answered here.

FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

Thank you for the patience with these questions  ♡

Hey in very beginning of step 3 in the scene where Mr.Holden had a thought dancing on the tip of his tongue but he kept it to himself after MC and Cove were being cute (idk if it makes a difference but this is when they're dating)... Can we know what he was thinking/ wanted to say? It's been bugging me lol 

He would’ve gone into a “look how much you’ve grown”, “your dad is so proud of you”, “I’m so glad things worked out with the MC”, and etc spiel, haha. But he resisted the urge to fawn on his baby boy, at least for that scene.

If we planned to move away for college/future plans in step 3, is it implied that MC and Cove would have a long distance relationship for sure? Could MC have convinced Cove to come with them? How is the dynamic of their relationship going to be addressed in Step 4, if that makes sense? 

Cove is willing to follow the MC where they went after everything is settled for them there, and if they’re sure they want him to come! You’ll get to decide how things shook out during those transitional years just by making choices about it during the opening prologue of Step 4.

Hi! First off, how does it feel to have created one of the best games when it comes to inclusion for lbtq+ peeps? I've never felt as validated with my identity and sexuality when playing a game and I'm seemingly not alone ♥ Second, and this might be a little too specific, but what kinds of drinks does Cove like as well as dislike? Thank you, you're the best ♥

Thank you for very much! It’s really nice to hear the game felt inclusive. Cove likes regular water and fruit juices/smoothies most! He dislikes coffee and cola, and he’s not super into most teas either.

Hi, may i ask what gb patch stands for? Specifically the gb part lol

It stands for my old, silly username I used in places like Neopets as a kid, aha. The company name wasn’t super thought out since it was originally just me making VNs as a hobby. Luckily, “GB Patch” kind of seems like it could mean something reasonable, so I didn’t have to rebrand when it did become a more serious, commercial group.

If we chose to not propose to cove in the step 3 dlc would he propose or would the mc propose in step 4 or the wedding dlc? 

Yeah, you or Cove can propose in Step 4 if you’re not already engaged! The Wedding DLC takes place after the engagement so the proposal scenes aren’t there.

will you guys announce if the early access for the new game is out on patreon ? 

When beta builds of Step 4 or whatever start coming out on the Patreon we will mention it here on social media too.

Heyy I just had a quick question about Baxter if that’s okay :)?

I saw in an ask+answer that it’s possible to casually date Baxter In step 3, but what leads up to that? I have the step 3 dlc and I’ve tried playing them In a different orders and ways but it doesn’t seem to get anywhere ^^;

The Step 3 DLC is Cove-based because he’s the default guy. There’s a separate Baxter romance DLC that’s not out yet. That’s where you can get him to date you. I’m sorry for the confusion!

Will we ever get any LI's or side characters with physical disabilities or deformities? I think your games would be a great place to have them in since they're always so accepting and safe! 

Yeah, we do hope to have representation for that in future projects ^^. Thank you for the confidence in us.

Is it possible to get Cove to take the bed and MC to sleep on the floor? 

Not in Step 3, I’m afraid.

So, I have played the prologue of Our Life countless times and I haven't gotten the [Your Life] achievement, why is that? 

Steam sometimes isn’t connected properly when an achievement unlocks and so it remains locked on your account. If that happens, unfortunately getting the scene again won’t unlock it. The achievement becomes inaccessible because the game thinks you already have it. Playing with the same Steam account on a different device or fully deleting your game data (more than the only the save files) are the only work arounds we’ve found.

Since when you talk with Jeremy in step 3 it's mentioned he goes on dates with someone (which assume is JB because who else would take this boy on dates) that makes him happy, does that sort of make JB and Jeremy the canon relationship in the first game?

The default for XOXO Droplets is that JB casually goes on dates with each of the jerks! Shiloh would’ve been harsher if Jeremy was the only guy getting her attention, haha. But the player can change that default by dating just one person the whole game for their own story and who she ends up with for real has no default.

Hi, hello! Huge OL fan, thank you so much for the wholesome content, it was very much needed during these times. Managed to get several people to join team Cove, so that's very exciting, I always have people to fawn over him with. I have a little question and I'm sorry if it was asked before, but does it ever come up in the game what Cove has told his mom about us? (who knows, with so many options, one can miss it) Or, alternatively, will it come up in the Step 4 DLC? 

Thank you very much for sharing the game with people <3. It’s really great to hear people are liking it. Right now that doesn’t come up in game. Kyra is willing to keep her mouth shut and Cove isn’t gonna have that conversation either. At least not when he’s younger, but yes, perhaps when he’s a fully grown big boy in Step 4 you can ask him about it.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since it has been confirmed that there would be two love interests for OL2, would there be the possibility of forming a polyamorous relationship with both love interests? I’m sorry if you answered this previously, I’m just curious. 

We are considering it, but it’s not a guarantee yet. It’d be really great to have but it’d add so many extra alterations that’d need to made, aha.

Hello! You mentioned how Cove would be uncomfortable with kids at 23, but how old would he be when he’s comfortable with having/adopting kids? (Same goes for the other LI’s.) btw, love your game!! 

He’d want to be at least 25, but even older would be good. Derek would want to have kids when he and his partner could reasonably support them, the age itself wouldn’t matter. If they were doing good at 22 and wanted kids, he’d be up for it. Or they could wait until their 30s or whatever. Baxter is also more of a “when it feels right” guy rather than having a specific age requirement. Cove is just especially wary of being a young parent because of his own parents. I’m happy you like the game!

does step 4 immediately play after you press "end summer" in step 3? or is there another button/transition (like the story text thingy) before the epilogue begins? what happens after the epilogue? roll credits? 😂 

Step 4 will have transition section always and there will be an extra button, if you own the Derek or Baxter DLC. By default the Cove-based version of Step 4 just plays once Step 3 is over. However, having the other guys’ storylines will mean you get to pick which version of Step 4 plays; Cove Step 4 (the basic one), Derek Step 4, or Baxter Step 4.

Happy pride, thank you for all you do for us🥰

I have a quick question though, I recently got a MacBook after my old windows computer broke, and now steam says I cannot download it, but it has no issues with other games, what can I do to download it?? I’m sorry if my English is bad

Happy pride month! Unfortunately, Our Life isn’t available for Mac on Steam right now. To be an approval application Apple requires having special notarization and we as a small group haven’t gotten that. Itch doesn’t care and lets us release the game for Mac there anyway, Steam does care so we’re locked out of putting the Mac build up on their storefront. Feel free to email us and we can try to help the situation out further!

support@gbpatchgames.com

Hello! I was jus wondering if the Baxter and Derek DLCs are still happening? I haven’t heard anything about them on here or patreon in a while so I just wanted to make sure ^^

They’re still coming and we just released a new sprite sketch on the Patreon for the Derek DLC c:. But right now Step 4 is still much more of a priority. Once that’s closer to being done we’ll focus way more on sharing previews for the other guys.

is it possible to tell cove you love him (platonically) at step 3 fondness/selecting him as basically family? i just love the mc and liz sibling interactions and it got me wondering about it (especially if you've selected that option)

You and Cove can be as close as family, but there’s not a specific scene in Step 3 where you say “I love you” in a family context. But there’s always Step 4~

do you intend on ever adding a collectors mode to Our Life? Like a way to collect achievements and CGs for the gallery without it effecting any save files? 

We weren’t considering it before. But if a lot of players would find that helpful, we could start thinking on that!

Sorry if it's a silly question haha, but (in crush/love) is Cove really aware of how cute and cuddly he seems to MC? If so, what does he think or do about it? Or does he just ignore it? 

He isn’t particular aware. Cove never truly stops being surprised that the MC is interested in/attracted to him, haha.

Would you say that the alone ending of xoxo droplets is worth playing again to get? 

Nope, haha. The goal is to make friends/get a boyfriend and so the alone ending is kind of the bad ending for the game. Though there is a consolation prize if you get it by accident.

Is there any possible situation which would ever prompt Pran to bake for his girlfriend? Like I know it's unlikely I mean even if JB broke her leg somehow I'm pretty sure he'd still be like "I considered baking you a cake and doing the frosting the way I think looks interesting but you don't deserve a cake, no one does." right but also ahhh it would be super nice if some day he just surprised her with baked goods one day out of nowhere. JB would be so shocked it would be cute. So is there any possible situation where that could/would be a thing that he would do? 

He might bake out of spite, like if he felt he had to prove her wrong on something. Or if JB used some good reverse psychology on him. Or he might do it in a relatively nice way if he could make his GF so shocked by the kind gesture that his amusement with that overrode his insistence on not being sweet. Pran is very difficult in high school, aha.

Is the "one route (where) it can be seen that Everett will drop his seemingly eternal waging with Jeremy pretty easily and can start getting along without thinking much on it" the Lucas route? I'm curious! 

Yep! Everett will side with Jeremy if it’s between him and Lucas.

Hi I hope you guys are having a great day :) I just had to ask how Cliff would feel about Cove's partner/fiancé Mc calling them dad whether it be accidental or otherwise and secondly I also wanted to ask how he would feel about being asked to be the one to give the mc away at their wedding. 

He would be very touched and excited! I hope you have a good day too :D

Hello! I saw an ask relating to whether Cliff "moves on" after Cove's grown up and stuff (and he stays single), but what about Kyra? Will she be with anyone else or will she stay single? 

She does start dating again, but she takes it slow.

Hi! I absolutely love the art for characters in OL and I wonder is this fine to draw my MC in same drawing style and upload online later? Is this something artists would be okay with? Thank you! 

Yeah, you can certainly do that C:

Hey there!

I wonder if I'm just being stupid here.. Is Step 4 a DLC? And if so, where can I find it? I can't seem to find it on Steam :< Thank you!

Step 4 is a free epilogue! It’s not done yet, but once it is finished you’ll just update your game file and Step 4 will be there after Step 3 ends.

hi! are step 4 and the wedding dlc two different things?

They are. Step 4 is a free epilogue that’ll be a default part of the game once it’s done, the wedding DLC is an optional paid expansion that takes place after Step 4.

Why did Baxter not receive a step 2 sprite seeing how he shows up later

Sprites are time consuming to draw and take money out of the budget that could’ve gone to other things. His tiny appearance in Step 2 wasn’t worth all the effort to make a sprite, aha.

I just realized, what happens if if you get the patreon exclusive moment but at a later date, when you don't have the membership anymore, it's updated (like a bugs fix update for example)? Would you have to get the membership again? 

You would have to get the membership again to redownload the build. But there’s very little chance there’s going to be an update once it’s been out for over a month. If a build gets released with errors, players catch/report them within the first few days. So by the time the first subscription period ends, any problems that were noticeable would already have been fixed. And we’re certainly not gonna be adding new content to it once it’s been released for a long time. There’s no need to worry about missing out on something worthwhile in the future if you cancel your membership. It’s being made with the idea in mind that many players are gonna be getting it and then going.

Hello! Wanted to ask about gaming choice in step 3? Once upon a playthorugh I got the option to buy Cove a bracelet for his graduation present. I played the same basic character again and that option wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure where I went wrong. My Cove wears a bracelet on each hand and my MC is into fashion and jewelry. Do I need to put an earring on him or? Sorry, love your game so much. 

He also needs to have liked bracelets in Step 2 for that to be considered a good gift option for him. Sorry for the confusion! I’m happy you love the game :)

Is Step 4 being released at the same time as the Wedding DLC or will the first come before the latter? Thank you! 

I’m not sure. Ideally they’ll come out at the same time, but the wedding DLC has a lot of art to get done and we may have to release it after Step 4.

Can mc still get confession from Cove at the end of step 3 even if mc casually dates Baxter in step 3? Such as in crush mode? 

I don’t think so. Maybe that’ll change, but generally there’s differences to the Step 3 ending if you were dating Baxter and those differences likely will conflict with getting the Cove confession.

For the patreon moments/dlcs, will it be available for all tiers? 

It’ll be available for tier 2 (Fans) and up!

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 112]

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

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

See my Masterpost for edited chapters. Not yet edited chapters are under the cut. I also have a playlist on youtube for this story.

Chapter 37

Janus woke to the feeling of something wet on his upper arm. After a few moments of bleary-eyed confusion, he turned his head to the side. A bit of morning light was able to make it into the dugout which allowed Janus to see the head of hair leaning on him. Patton had fallen asleep face first with his head on Janus’s chest and arm. His arm was thrown over Janus’s middle like a vice. Janus had learned the hard way over the past three weeks that if you gave Patton one inch when it came to physical touch, he would claim your entire body as his throw pillow. This morning was clearly no exception.

 He took a moment to watch his sleeping face (though most of it was obscured by hair or Janus’s shirt) and absorb the body heat coming off of him. Then, he reached over and shoved at his forehead with two fingers.

Patton must have been at least somewhat awake because he resisted immediately, pushing against Janus’s hand and squeezing him with the arm around his waist.

“You’re drooling on me,” Janus seethed.

Patton made a sound that was his way of communicating an eyeroll when his eyes were not open. Perhaps the first couple of times Janus had found himself in a similar position, Patton would have mumbled a “sorry” in response to Janus’s statement. As it was, he said. “Deal with it,” and smashed his face into Janus’s shoulder.

 “I despise you with a burning passion,” Janus said.

“Mmm.”

“Remove yourself from my person.”

“You climbed into my bed last night,” Patton pointed out, his voice sleepy. Which was… true, but he didn’t need to point it out. “You don’t get to make demands.”

“You have three seconds to get off of me or I’m using physical force.” Patton nuzzled into his shoulder. “One… two… three.” Patton did move then, but it wasn’t to release Janus. No, it was to throw his leg over Janus and settle on top of him because he was a horrible and irrational person.

 He was also fucking heavy. Perhaps Janus could have thrown him off if they’d been in any other situation, but it was too close quarters in the dugout for Janus to get any leverage. From the smug smile on Patton’s face, the bastard knew it. Janus scowled up at him, but instead of backing off, his smile just softened around the edges.

“Good morning, Mr. Grumpy,” he sang. He leaned his weight a bit more on Janus so he could free one arm to bop him on the nose.

“Good morning, Bane of My Existence.”

“You are not a morning person,” Patton said.

 “Your deductive reasoning skills never fail to impress me. Truly I am astonished by the way your mind works.”

“Aw thanks, sweetie.”

Fucking bastard, Janus thought, putting absolutely no effort into not blushing at the pet name, because a Morning Person did not deserve any amount of affection from Janus. Patton did not seem to get the memo however as he nuzzled his face back onto Janus’s chest.

“Ew,” he said after a moment, pulling his face back up to look at Janus. “I really did drool on you.” He did not sound nearly repentant enough for Janus’s tastes.

“Yes, you did.”

 “Oops.”

“Your remorsefulness is heartening, really.”

“Mmm,” Patton commented, “so what are the plans for today? Still thinking berry hunting?”

“We can check the weir too, but we’re running low on fruit,” Janus said. “I think I saw a patch of the not-basically-acid dark purple ones downstream a bit.”

Patton’s nose scrunched up. “But those are sour,” he complained.

Janus rolled his eyes.

“You’d need like ¼ of a cup of sugar per berry to make them taste good.”

“Well, I like them,” Janus said.

“Blech.”

“No,” Janus said. “What is ‘blech’ is the idea of eating a fourth of a cup of sugar basically straight.”

 “I’ve done it! Well, it was pixie sticks, so there was flavoring as well as the sugar. I definitely had at least 1/4th of a cup though.”

“You’re a nightmare.”

“That’s what Lo said afterwards.”

Janus shoved at him and he deigned rolled off back onto the bed. “We’ll try to find some you like too,” he said, moving to sit up.

“Should we…” Patton said, “think about ways to make jam or something?”

Janus sighed. They had already been here almost two months and Janus knew what sensitive topic that question was hiding. They really had no idea when and if the weather would turn. They were probably nearer to the equator, but weather patterns were different in this time period. Would there be a winter? A dry season? Would they still be stuck here if there was?

 “I don’t know,” Janus said. “We should think about it just in case.”

“I don’t actually know how to make jam without sugar,” Patton mused as they climbed out of their dugout.

“People would use honey at one point,” Janus said.

“Are there… bees?”

“I think so,” Janus said.

“Well,” Patton said. “We could try that… assuming we can find bees.”

“And we don’t get stung to death when we do.”

“And we don’t get stung to death when we do,” he agreed. “We could also try out drying fish. Is fish jerky a thing?”

“I believe so or at least I know you can dry it somehow.”

 “We’ll figure it out,” Patton said, optimistic, and Janus found himself believing him. They had proven themselves a good team over the last couple of months even before they were amicable. If winter came or drought, he thought they could probably find a way to survive it together. “So where are the blech berries?”

Janus shook his head but led him a bit downstream from where they usually went for water and fish. There was a large bush of the “blech berries” that seemed to be ripe and they started to pick them into the approximation of a bowl they’d carved out of wood. Patton, however, managed to get distracted rather quickly.

 “Perhaps we should work on picking things we know we can eat,” Janus suggested wryly.

“I’m 85% sure it’s a type of mint!” Patton replied.

“Oh, yes, wonderful odds. Love the 15% chance I’ll get poisoned.”

“It could still be edible even if it’s not mint,” Patton pointed out with a cheeky grin. “So, less than 15%!”

“Have you considered a type of prehistoric mint could have been poisonous?” Janus inquired.

“It’s mint.”

“It’s maybe mint.”

“If it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck…”

“Then it’s probably a Vegavis iaai.”

“Prehistoric duck?”

“Prehistoric aquatic bird.”

“Why do you even know that?”

“Why do you know the name of every Jonas Brothers’ song?”

 “Oh, I don’t just know the names of the songs,” Patton said with a glimmer in his eyes. “Would  you like me to demonstrate?”

“Do not.”

He hummed a soft tune briefly before opening his mouth, “I was…”

“I will shove these berries down your throat to stop you,” Janus threated. “Don’t test me.”

Patton cackled gleefully. Janus thought he was attempting to continue to sing, but he couldn’t be certain with all of the laughter. Janus still tossed a few of the overripe berries in his direction. He sprang up from where he’d been kneeling and picking the possibly-mint. “Come on Janus, music is fun!”

 “Yes,” Janus agreed. “Music is fun.”

“So, you agree with me!”

“No-”

“What type of music do you like?” he asked. Before Janus could respond, he answered for himself. “You mentioned Elvis once. You must like Elvis.”

“Sure?”

“Did you know there’s a musical that’s just Elvis song?” he asked. “Roman,” and oh, he must be distracted because he’d just slipped his friend’s full name for the first time, “tried to collect a bootleg from every Broadway show from the 1990s on. I really liked it!”

“Interesting…” His eyes were shinning with glee and Janus figured out exactly what was going to happen a moment before it did. “…Don’t.”

“Well, it’s one for the money…”

“Why?” Janus asked himself as Patton continued on with his rendition of ‘Blue Suede Shoes.’ His voice was not Broadway standard, but admittedly it was not too bad. Especially when one compared it to the accompanying dance.

 Janus set the bowl of berries aside. “Stop that, stop,” Janus said. He did not stop. “You have no idea how to dance, do you?”

“Of course, I do,” Patton said, pausing his singing to basically shake himself like a dog. “See.”

“...No.”

“Yes!” he claimed in response. “I know so many dances. Like the Cupid Shuffle. We used to do that in middle school.”

“I have no idea what that is, but I am 100% sure you’re doing it wrong,” Janus observed as he demonstrated.

“I am not!”

“Was there a toxin in that ‘mint’ that absorbs through skin?” Janus asked. “Are you having a seizure?”

 “You’re so mean,” he said in a voice that said he was enjoying riling Janus up. “I bet you’re just jealous because you can’t dance.”

“I can actually,” Janus said dryly. “I learned 45th century dances as a child and then was trained in the most popular ones across history for the TPI.”

“Sounds fake. Don’t believe it.”

Janus finally couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his face between his hands. “Stop that. Stop bobbing your head.” His cheeks basically vibrated under Janus’s palms. Janus squinted at him menacingly. “Don’t think I’m a fool,” he said. “I know what you’re doing.”

 “What am I doing?” Patton asked innocently. Janus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d known even before he’d really known him that the sweeter and more innocent Patton sounded, the more likely he was playing with you.

“The only way I’m giving in and dancing in front of you is if it’s to teach you how to dance. Meaning you actually listen to me for once in your life. Not that I think it will do much good considering I’ve seen older you dance.”

Patton laughed brightly. “Okay,” he agreed easily enough and not sounding at all insulted.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First thing first. Please stop trying to bob your head.”

 Chapter 38

The biggest problem with Patton’s dancing seemed to be less that he was physically and mentally incapable of learning and performing the steps (though his lack of rhythm and easily distractable nature certainly was a factor), and more that he was far more interested in having fun verses doing it right. It was charming in a way even while it was also infuriating as his teacher.

It reminded Janus of the first time they’d met. He’d blocked it out, for a long while, how he’d been drawn to the man who had led him onto the 1920s dance floor and offered to teach him despite not actually fully being able to do the dance himself.

 Past him perhaps would not have believed it, but this Patton was a lot worse at dancing than that Patton.

That Patton must have been an older one than this one then. He wondered if he kept trying to learn to dance after this. He wondered if Janus kept trying to teach him how to dance after this. Perhaps one day Janus would know Patton enough to be able to identify where he was in his timeline just by how he kept rhythm.

…Well, that was a disgustingly romantic notion. Janus’s face screwed up and Patton seemed to notice considering that they were inches from one another’s faces.

 “What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Janus had given up on teaching him any actual dance moves hours ago. They’d taken a break to finish picking berries and maybe-mint as well as grab some fish from the weir before heading back to camp. Now Janus’s goal as dinner cooked was to somehow forcibly shove the concept of rhythm into Patton’s head before doing anything any more complicated. This came in the form of them swaying back and forth together and taking little steps like it was an awkward high school dance.

“No, what?” Patton asked.

“I was just anticipating getting my toes stepped on once again,” Janus replied.

 “You’re using your lying voice,” Patton accused, his tone amused.

“I don’t have a lying voice.”

“You do so!” Patton replied.

“Do not.”

“You do! It goes slightly deeper, and you get a bit of an accent I don’t recognize.”

“You know nothing.”

Patton rolled his eyes and almost stepped on his toes for real in his distraction. This man was a hazard to himself and others. “I believe you,” he said and then leaned in closer to whisper. “That’s my lying voice by the way.”

“You know what I’ve found in our dance lessons?” Janus asked. “You have little to no balance. I could easily shove you of a cliff.”

 “My balance is fine!” Patton insisted. “As long as I’m not trying to do some ridged dance moves that put my center of gravity in weird places.”

“Uh huh,” Janus said.

“I do yoga.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Yes, well… okay, so there were these workout DVDs McDonalds was giving out in like 2005 or 2006 and…” Janus laid his forehead on Patton’s shoulder shaking with suppressed laughter. “Don’t laugh! They’re pretty good. I do them all the time! Though not as much anymore because Lo makes me do a training regimen and will only allow them to count once a week.”

 They had stopped the gentle swaying and now they were just standing with Janus’s head on Patton’s shoulder and their arms around each other. “You’re something else,” Janus said.

“I will take that as a compliment,” Patton said with pride.

Janus chuckled softly and leaned back. “You should,” he agreed. Their noses were just about touching, and he didn’t quite know how it had happened, but one of his hands was suddenly on Patton’s face, the other still lingering near his waist. They stood like that for a long couple of seconds.

Finally, Patton moved, his hand sliding up to cup the side of Janus’s face in turn. “I…” he said, his thumb rubbing across the apple of Janus’s cheek. “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea right now.”

 “Right,” Janus said swallowing.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Patton said. “I do. I like you. I’m just worried this might not be the right time or place. We’ve been stuck together here without outside things like jobs and other people, and you’ve told me a lot of stuff. I think you were able to sort of put your misery on hold for a bit while we were here, but you haven’t fixed anything. You are hurt. The things you went through, the things you told me, they were horrible, and they’ve made you sad and angry and depressed. I don’t want you to try to bandage that wound with me, because bandages aren’t going to work on that hurt. You need a lot more support than I can’t give you with a kiss in the forest before the beginning of mankind.”

 That… hurt. Patton had phrased it nice and gentle, but it basically translated to ‘I don’t want to get romantically involved with someone who is so fucked up.’ Which… was fair, but it still made him feel a bit cracked open.

“I’m not saying no,” Patton said gently. “I’m saying we have plenty of time. Plus, I’m not abandoning you to it either. I fully plan to make sure you eat right and prove I can cook fantastically when given the right materials in the process, and I want to meet your brother and maybe Virgil too.”

“Yeah,” Janus said. “You’re probably right.” Patton smiled at him a bit sadly and leaned forward slowly to kiss him on the forehead. “…Also, your soup is boiling over.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he whipped around, hurrying over to where dinner was cooking with a yelp. Despite the fact that he still felt a bit stung, he still smiled at his retreating figure and followed him over.

They’d only be there for less than two more days.

 Chapter 39

Janus could tell the moment he woke up. It was hard to pinpoint what sense was picking up the difference, but he could almost taste something new and also familiar in the air like how some people could feel a thunderstorm rolling through in the ache of their joints. He could sense the strum of time as little pieces of it twisted and folded in on themselves, a striking contrast to the way it had been like a solid, linear, stone road the past couple of months.

He glanced at the timepiece still on his wrist. It was still off except for the message about unstable conditions that still flashed every few seconds, but Janus knew it was only a matter of time before it turned back on.

 He could tell that Patton must have felt it too since he also looked at his timepiece as soon as he woke. They glanced at each other. “I guess we don’t have to figure out fish jerky.”

“I guess not,” Janus agreed.

“Should we still, uh, go to the river?” Patton asked. They’d done so almost every morning barring rain since landing here to check for fish, get water, or search for edible plants.

Janus’s throat felt a bit tight. Watch him get sick and die from some horrible pathogen now of all times. “Yeah,” he said. “We should. We can at least get water just in case.”

 “Okay,” Patton agreed. They walked the familiar path to the small river. Patton snuck his hand over to twine their fingers together. Janus allowed it.

Usually, they came with the idea of a task more than just filling up a container with water, which meant they really didn’t know what to do when they arrived. After a bit of hesitation, Patton sat on the bank near the fishing weir. He took off his legitimately ruined by this point socks and shoes to stick his feet in the water.

He laid back to look up at Janus who was still standing.

 “Tell me your deepest darkest secret,” he requested.

“I’m pretty sure I already told you that,” Janus pointed out.

“No, no, not like that,” he said, and Janus raised an eyebrow, “like ones you’d tell at slumber parties to cement your bond with the other kids there forever.”

“I’m not sure what you mean to be honest,” Janus said.

“Hmm, like when I was about 10, I really didn’t like the book that my teacher assigned us to read, so I buried it in the yard and said it went missing. My mom had known it was on the kitchen table and she and Dad looked for it all day but couldn’t find it. It’s still there.”

 “What book was it?” Janus asked.

Patton thought for a moment. “You know. I have no idea,” he admitted, “but I stand by my opinion.”

Janus bent to take a seat next to him. “I once got mad at Emile and switched out the top of all of his markers, so he didn’t know what color they were. I’m not sure if that’s a secret. He may have figured me out, but he never managed to prove it.”

“Psychological warfare,” Patton said grimly. “I think that’s a war crime in some countries.”

“It’s definitely a war crime in some countries,” Janus agreed.

 Patton shot him a smile. “Is that a sense of humor I hear.”

“No,” Janus said dryly, and Patton laughed.

“Remember when you fell in the water on the first day?” Patton asked, eyes full of mocking humor.

“I remember it was your fault.”

“I remember things differently.”

“Your memory’s shit.”

“I could shove you in on purpose right now and we could compare experiences to see,” he offered sweetly.

“You’ve almost made it out of this situation alive. It would be a shame if I murdered you in cold blood today.”

Patton just grinned at the death threat, sitting up slowly.

 He put his hand into the water.

“Do not,” Janus ordered.

Patton flicked water at him. It wasn’t a large amount at all, but Janus still glared at him as though he’d committed treason. He leaned forward and sent a small wave of water back in his direction. This, predictably only encouraged him.

They ended up swimming, of course, because Patton was Patton and Janus was weak. By the time they were finished, it was already past lunch, and they grabbed the container of water they had come for before heading back home. Janus noticed on the way back that the timepiece on his wrist was no longer flashing an error message in red. It must have powered back on while they were distracted in the river. Janus didn’t say a word.

 They ate lunch and while Patton didn’t say a word about them not being stuck either, Janus could tell he knew.

“We should probably pack up anything that could be confusing to archeologists,” Patton said. “The dugout is fine. It’s just dirt and leaves, but the stone and clay can’t stay or any of our clothes.”

Someone from the TPI would definitely be coming back here and making sure everything was cleaned up, but Janus didn’t mention that. He just helped Patton gather up everything they’d brought and everything they’d made since being here.

“Do you want the pot?” Janus offered. “I don’t really have any use for it.”

 “I would love to take the pot,” Patton said, his expression warm.

“Okay,” Janus said. “Then… that’s everything.”

“Yeah,” Patton agreed.

“So, dinner?”

“Sure,” Patton said. The food they had left wasn’t anything particularly substantial and they’d already put out the fire, so they couldn’t cook anything. Instead, they just finished up the small store of berries and vegetables they had. It was really more of a snack than a dinner. Patton leaned against him so their shoulders touched once he finished his share of the food. “It’s going to be getting dark soon.”

“Yeah,” Janus said.

Patton sighed. “We do have to go.”

 Janus immediately felt a pang when the words were finally said out loud. The feeling was almost akin to grief. Patton drew away from his side, but only to turn a bit so he was facing him.

“We do,” Patton said as though Janus had argued. He reached up to touch Janus’s cheek. “It’s time to go home.”

“I don’t think I have a home,” Janus admitted.

Patton smiled sadly. “You do,” he said. “You just have to go find it again.”

“I…”

“Go home,” Patton said, voice gentle, but stern. “Go talk to your brother. Get help. Then come find me, yeah?” He grinned, almost cheekily and bopped him on the nose. “Or maybe I’ll find you.”

“With the way things are going, we’ll probably find each other.”

“Exactly!”

 He got to his feet and Janus stood as well while he gathered up the things he was taking with him.

“I…” Janus said. “Goodbye, I guess.”

“Ah, that’s a little final don’t you think?” Patton said. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon. It’s only a matter of time.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Must you?”

“I must,” he said with a smile. He leaned forward to kiss Janus’s cheek softly. Then he drew back. “I’ll be seeing you,” he said. Then he was gone.

The moment he disappeared, Janus had the thought that maybe Patton was right to think he was too fucked up to have a relationship with him right now. He was pretty sure someone leaving your side temporarily wasn’t supposed to make you want to collapse onto the ground, curl up into a ball, and die.

 Yeah, no that was probably not okay. He’d been aware, of course, already that he was not okay, but between actually talking about the root problem for the first time and Patton’s gentle pushing towards doing something about it, about his insistence that Janus deserved to do something about it, made it hit differently. He did not curl up into a ball and die. Instead he reached for the things he was taking, mostly trash, but some of it things he’d made of stone he might keep. He pulled up the display on his timepiece and selected the return coordinates that would spit him out in decon. Lord knew he needed it.

 The feeling of traveling through time was almost strange after the two months of being stuck. It may have taken a moment longer than it usually did as it scraped against the edge of the time flare, but he landed back at the TPI without any major issues a little before 6pm.

Considering that most missions shut down around 5pm, the fact that he came in then certainly drew immediate attention. Not that he expected to be gone for 2 months and then not draw scrutiny. By the time he stepped out of the decontamination room, there was already a small crowd.

 Khalid was there at the front staring him down with something between shock, worry, and maybe anger in her eyes. He basically ignored her. “Janus,” she said. “What the hell happened?”

“Give me a minute,” he said pushing past her. “Before I lose my nerve.”

“…What?” she asked. She was probably following him, but he didn’t bother to check. Instead, he walked straight down the hall past Costuming and Rhi’s office and the hallway that would lead to his own office. He walked all the way to the AMO and pushed open the door without a glance at his own last name on the outside of it. The people inside the stopped and looked at him when he walked inside, likely because the office was closed by now except for emergencies.

The only person he cared about though, was Emile who had been talking to the receptionist at the front desk, his coat already in his hands to go home for the night.

“Janus?” he asked, and Janus just about chickened out, but the expression on Emile’s face was one of abject relief indicating that had to have been worried for Janus in the time he’d been gone despite everything Janus had done. That expression drew him forward towards him.

“I…” he said, and hesitated. “I’m back, and I’m okay physically, but…”

Emile looked at him intensely for a few seconds before putting a steadying hand on his shoulder: calm and real and alive.

“Help,” Janus said. “Help me,” and he fell into his brother’s arms.

  Intermission Arc: An Analogical Interlude

Chapter 40

Patton was a fan of the summer months which was why he was a little unhappy that he’d be missing a good chunk of them. Though, he guessed he didn’t so much miss them as misplace them. He had stopped by to tell Roman and Logan what had happened and why he’d be missing for a good chunk of time over the next few months to make up for it. He was staying with his now technically younger roommates for a week or two to recuperate before hopping forward a bit. He’d duck in for his mom’s birthday and his grandpa’s yearly fishing trip (Though Patton was of the opinion that he did not really want to eat fresh fish for a least a little while yet.) but would mostly be skipping forward a whole two months.

 He’d land in early August when it all evened out which was still summer, but he’d miss most of June and July, and that was sad, but at least apples would be fresh around that time. Plus, fall was his second favorite anyway.

Yet, for now, he got to relax a little bit back in late May. Logan had finished up poking and prodding him to make sure he wasn’t sick with anything really bad yesterday, so he was officially allowed to leave the apartment. Since it was Saturday, he and Roman had decided to go grab some stuff from the recently opened Farmers Market.

 Roman had gotten bored with the vegetable shopping and had split off to go look more at the arts and crafts (and, knowing him, probably pastries) that the market had to offer, leaving Patton to finish up getting fresh ingredients for the week. He may have also been grabbing a little bit extra so he could make frozen meals at some point this week. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Roman and Logan to feed themselves in his absence, (Okay, well, he did not trust Logan and Roman often got distracted.) but he did want to leave something nice for them while he was away. He knew he’d missed them while he’d been gone.

 He wandered down the main path through the market. Most days it was a side street off Main, but on Saturdays in the summer, it was blocked off to cars and hosted a large number of stands selling different things, mostly produce. In a small park off to one side, there was a live band set up and down the ways a bit there were food trucks selling prepared food to people who got peckish while wandering the stands. He mostly tried to stay away from those because they almost exclusively sold unhealthy and overpriced food.

But gosh was it good food.

And Logan wasn’t here to stop him…

 Well, it wouldn’t hurt to go have a look at what they’ve got this morning. He turned away from the vegetable stands he was supposed to be shopping at and walked towards the parking lot lined with food trucks. It was, as predicted, mostly food that was horribly bad for you. Most of the things there were sweets, though some had actual meal food such as walking tacos and grilled cheeses. One even was serving pancakes with fresh berries with a sign telling you where you could buy the same berries elsewhere in the market. Patton’s eyes though, went straight past anything most people would consider actual food and landed on small stand with the words “Fresh Donuts and Fried Oreos for Sale.”

 Now, he knew for a fact that he could only eat one, maybe two if he stretched it, fried Oreos at a time before he got sick to his stomach. They were just so sweet and greasy, but they sold them in packs of three. Hmm…

He looked around. “Would you like one?” he asked an older man with hair just starting to grey who’d been walking between the stands.

The man stopped, seemingly surprised to be being addressed blinked at him in surprise. “What?” he asked.

“A fried Oreo,” Patton explained. “I love them, but eating more than two makes me sick to my stomach.”

 “Just… don’t eat the last one,” the man suggested. He was shifting back and forth on his feet.

��You obviously don’t know me,” Patton said. “Anyway. Free fried Oreo?”

“I…uh… yeah, sure whatever.”

“Great!” Patton said, turning back to the employee waiting. “3 please!” They had already been dunked in hot oil while the employee had been waiting for Patton, so they were out within minutes, hot and fresh. Patton thanked her and turned towards the man. He had to grab a napkin to pick one of the Oreos out of the packet and handed it to him. “Here you go!”

 “Thanks,” he said with an awkward half smile.

“No problem!” Patton replied.

“Well anyway, I’m really in the middle of something, so I ought to be going now.”

“Oh, okay, bye!” Patton said, but he was already gone. Patton shrugged and reached into his bag of fried Oreos as he started walking in the opposite direction from the one the man took towards the park and the live music there. He’d go take a quick walk around the little park listening to the music to maybe work off the Oreos he was eating and then go back to his shopping.

 He was about halfway between the food trucks and the makeshift stage when there was a loud screeching sound which he at first attributed to mic feedback, until he felt a kind of swoopy feeling in his gut like after eating two corndogs before going on a rollercoaster even though Logan had told him not to. Someone was time traveling and not your gentle popping here or there safe time travel. No, something was wrong.

There were popping sounds like those little mini popping firecrackers that kids threw at each other’s feet on the Fourth of July. People near the stage jerked away with little startled shrieks, attributing the sounds to something going wrong with the equipment, but it wasn’t actually coming from the stage, not exactly.

 It was coming from somewhere above and behind the stage. Patton made note of the fact that it was so close to the musical equipment almost as though whatever was happening was intentionally set up to make people think it was an electrical problem. He picked up his pace a bit, but not too much as he didn’t want anyone to notice him doing so.

By the time he made it there, the noises had stopped and the feeling of wrong time travel had settled into an annoying hum. The people around and on the stage were starting to settle, though clearly the musicians were confused.

 Patton was confused too. What was that? Was it over? Why did something still feel off? He couldn’t scan the area to check what was wrong. He hadn’t brought the timepiece to walk to the local farmer’s market. He usually didn’t wear it about his own time for fear carrying it around frivolously may lead to disaster. Pickpockets snatching time travel devices off of the unaware had caused enough undue trauma, thank you very much.

So, he had only his own eyes and ears to work with. Yet, despite his experience, he didn’t see anything particularly amiss. He kept his eyes out for an object that might have caused the disturbance or clothing that didn’t quite match the times, but he saw nothing.

 After a few minutes of slipping his way through the crowds, he finally decided to give up for now. He’d go back to the apartment and tell Logan something had happened. He should be able to figure out something. He weaved his way out of the crowd of people and back onto the sidewalk that surrounded the little concert area. Yet, as he was about to turn away, he heard an unfamiliar voice call out to him.

“Pat!” it called, and Patton turned to look at a man speed walking towards him in an inconspicuous black hoody and blue jeans. “You’re Pat,” he said when he was closer, his tone somewhere between a statement and a question.

Patton tilted his head at the stranger with a frown. “Do you know me?”  he asked.

“Not really,” he replied, “but I remembered your face.”

“What?” Patton asked.

He raised an arm and let the hoody sleeve slip down just a touch. Patton could detect a bit of panic in his eyes, and he figured out why when a timepiece much like Janus’s but not quite as fancy was revealed. “It’s broken. Please help.”

 Chapter 41

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.

This was fine. It was fine. This was fine. There weren’t any problems with this. Nope. No reason to panic. No reason to have a panic attack. Nope. That would be unproductive. It’s fine.

It was just a little bit of turbulence. He wasn’t even dead. Did time devices even have turbulence? He didn’t remember the classes he took about this ever saying anything about it, but maybe he’d just forgotten.

Virgil would not have forgotten something like that because he would have known he’d panic about it if it ever happened and would need to mentally prep himself for the possibility.

 The sounds of people talking filtered to him as though through the wall. He couldn’t make out the words, but just the cadence of slight panic and concern. There were yelps, but no prolonged screaming, so that was a good sign. He could also tell it was dark wherever he was even though his eyes were closed.

He should probably open his eyes.

He wasn’t a child. He was well aware the ‘If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist,’ claim his mind was trying to tell him was a lie.

…

Virgil, he thought to himself. Open your eyes.

 He took a deep breath. He needed to open his eyes because he knew himself, and the world he was making up in his head was probably a lot scarier than the one he was avoiding.

Opening his eyes honestly did very little because it was mostly dark, though he could see a bit of light near the ground a couple of feet, lighting up a patch of short green grass that had been recently cut. It was at the earliest the 1900s then, maybe the later 1800s.

Well… guess he had no choice but to go towards the light…

 He crawled over to where he saw the light coming from and reached out to touch the wall. It gave a bit under his hand: a tarp then, not a wall. He peered through the gap to look for any nearby feet or legs and upon not seeing any, pulled up the tarp and quickly rolled out from under it.

He looked around himself quickly. There were people within sight, but he didn’t think any of them were looking his way to see him rolling out from underneath what seemed to be a temporary stage of some sort. He was lucky he’d rolled out from under the back and not the front.

 He cautiously got to his feet and moved away from the edge of the stage and off towards a sidewalk, hunching into the hoodie he was wearing as much as he could. He could see more people milling around once he got there and was relieved to see that his clothing fit in well enough. Maybe he was lucky and he’d only been knocked off course spatially.

He was supposed to be going to New York in 2005, and he was supposed to land in the bedroom of the apartment he’d rented for his research trip. Everything had seemed perfectly fine when he left. There hadn’t been any alerts or concerns out that would have kept him back. Most civilian time travel, what little of it there was, was almost ridiculously safe most of the time because it was so regulated, and destinations were quadruple checked. So, Virgil hadn’t been more than slightly anxious when he’d been given the go ahead to push the correct buttons on the time piece he’d been given.

 Everything had been fine for half a second before it had felt like he’d suddenly hit a brick wall and gotten tossed a few meters. The timepiece had sparked and shocked him as he’d landed on his back. A cursory glance at his wrist now confirmed what he already knew: the display was blacked out without even a warning message flashing on it. Which was… not good.

He covered the device again with his sleeve and walked a little closer to the crowds, eyes searching for clues about where and when he was exactly. It was summer and the conversations he overheard were English speaking mostly with American accents, but more towards the Midwest than he’d have liked considering he’d hoped to be in New York.

 Luckily, plenty of people were using their cell phones which was one of Virgil’s specialties. Unfortunately, many of them were iPhones. Virgil cursed to himself. Definitely not 2005. In fact, the latest model he could identify was an iPhone 8. So, it was 2017 or later. Judging by the large amount of people and the fact that it was the summer, it was either 2018 or 2019.

So, he had a wallet with $200 cash in $20 bills, a New York driver’s license that has been expired for a decade, and a flip phone that was probably not supported by any current networks.

 What the hell was he supposed to do? Would anyone even be able to find him in this time to rescue? God, he really did not want to be here for 2020.

Yet, just before he was about to tip over into an absolute freak out, he noticed a man make his way out of the crowd in front of the stage and onto the sidewalk Virgil was on. It took him a moment to realize where he recognized him from.

“Pat!” he called as the man was about to turn and walk away. He did his best not to run at him, as the man turned around at his name. Relief crashed over Virgil despite the confusion pinching at the man’s brow. “You’re Pat,” he said. Technically, Pat could be considered an enemy taking into account how closely Virgil worked with the TPI, but he also had access to time travel, so Virgil didn’t give one shit.

 “Do you know me?”  he asked with a frown on his face.

Probably not, and the one ominous conversation he’d had with Pat a couple of weeks ago suddenly made a lot more sense. He’d have to thank him somehow once all of this was over. “Not really, but I remembered your face.”

“…What?” he asked.

He glanced around them to make sure no one was watching (though people from this time would probably just assume it was a smart watch) before pulling back his sleeve and showing him the timepiece. Recognition flared immediately. “It’s broken. Please help,” he begged.

 Pat nodded. “Alright,” he said, “come with me.” He turned to start walking towards the street and Virgil followed close behind. They didn’t speak except for Pat to give him directions until they were away from the dense crowd that had been around what was apparently a farmers’ market. “So, what’s your name,” Pat asked once they were away from most of the people.

“Virgil,” Virgil replied.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Virgil,” Pat said with a genuine smile. “Though I am sorry about the circumstances.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Virgil replied. “Er, thanks for helping me.”

“Of course,” Pat said.

 “Are you a time agent then?” he asked. There wasn’t any malice that Virgil could sense behind the question despite the fact that he knew his and Janus’s relationship was… something.

Still, he was glad he could truthfully say, “No, I’m a professor of anthropology. I was supposed to be on a research trip to 2005, but something happened.”

“They let anthropologists go on research trips to the past?” Pat asked curiously. Strange, Virgil would have thought he’d know that.

“Only certain ones with a lot of training and tests,” Virgil said.

“Interesting!” he said, turning a corner.

“Where are we going?” Virgil asked.

 He hesitated subtlety enough that it could almost be ignored, but Virgil was nothing if not a paranoid bastard and noticed. “I have a contact that lives in this time period,” he said. “I’m taking you to his apartment. It’s not too far from here.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him, taking note of the reusable bags half filled with vegetables from the Farmers Market they’d just been at, but he continued to let himself be led to an apartment building a few blocks away from the market.

He saw the man’s hand twitch towards his pocket before he seemed to think better of it, instead closing said hand into a fist to knock at the door.

 The door was opened after a few moments by a man wearing a dark blue long sleeved night shirt and fuzzy nebula patterned pajama pants. He looked like he’d probably only gotten up recently by the way his hair stuck up on one side and his eyes looked sleepy behind the glasses perched on his nose. He looked at Pat seeming confused for a moment before opening his mouth.

Pat cut him off before he was able to say anything. “Hi Dr. Hartnell,” Pat said pleasantly. “Good to see you again. May we come in?”

He blinked at Pat and then looked at Virgil.

 This man, Virgil thought, is not a good liar. His face was unknown to Virgil, but he so clearly recognized Virgil that it was almost comical. He shoved away his surprise after a couple of moments. “Ah,” he said. “Hello, I’m…”

“Let me guess,” Virgil interrupted. “First name William?” He just got a blink of surprise. “I studied pop culture from the 20th and 21st century. I know Doctor Who.”

“Of course.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

He smiled slightly. “I am well aware,” he replied in a tone that was familiar by this point even though his voice sounded slightly different in person verses over the phone. That in combination with the look on his face felt like a punch to the gut. “It is nice to see you Professor Eran. Would you like to come in?”

 Chapter 42

“Would you… like some tea?” Logan asked once Virgil and Patton shuffled into the apartment.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Virgil replied, appearing to be nervous by the way his fingers were playing with his hoodie sleeve. It was interesting. His clothing was probably more in line with a standard 21st century adult than Logan or either of his roommates. Logan could imagine meeting him at a local grocery store: a tired college professor hoping that if he wore unprofessional clothing on the weekends maybe his students would not recognize him.

Thinking of unprofessional clothing. “I should probably go change,” he said suddenly flustered. “Pat-” and he barely kept himself from completing the name. “Could you put the kettle on?”

 Patton was giving him a suspicious look, but Logan chose to ignore it as he dashed out of the living room to his room to get dressed and brush his hair. By the time he’d returned, Patton had already managed to herd Virgil into a chair and put a plate with a cookie on it in front of him.

“So,” Logan said, feeling at least a bit more put together now that he’d had a minute to process. “May I ask what is going on?”

“I was going on that summer trip to 2005,” Virgil answered, “and my timepiece broke, but I ran into Pat and recognized him.”

 “Ah,” Logan said. “May I see it?”

“Sure,” Virgil said, taking it off of his wrist and handing it over.

Logan studied the watch like device for a few moments. He tried tapping the display and pushing different buttons, but the device didn’t respond.

“Can you fix it?” Virgil asked after he fiddled around with it for about a minute with no results.

“Hmm?” Logan asked, having gotten slightly distracted. “Oh. No, absolutely not.”

“What do you mean no?” Virgil asked.

“I have no idea how this is supposed to work. Perhaps I could eventually figure it out, but the technology involved in this is doubtlessly incredibly unfamiliar to me.”

 “B-but you’re time travelers, aren’t you? And you’re a tech person. You don’t know how to fix your own gear?”

“Oh,” Logan said. “I could fix Patton’s time piece with the use of one arm in a dark room with no tools, but that does not translate to being able to even turn this on. At least not outright. We’ve found it’s a completely different pedigree.”

Virgil looked at him, his brow pinched, and Logan realized belatedly that he might have already said too much. They had agreed as a group to not let people from the future know what century they were traveling from or that they had a completely differently developed form of time travel. It was likely to cause more problems than it was worth, especially considering the first interaction they’d had with the TPI, and Virgil did work with them.

 “Great,” Virgil muttered. “He can hack into a highly secured database with an iPhone 5 to rearrange my tv show files, but he can’t turn on a fancy watch.”

“It is a bit more than a fancy watch, Virgil,” Logan said with a frown.

“So…” Patton said. He had taken a seat and leaned his chin on his fist. “Do you two… know each other?”

“He is the person who plugged my device into his computer when Janus stole it from you,” Logan said.

“Mhmm?” Patton said with that lilt that said he thought Logan was leaving something out intentionally or not. He was correct of course in this case, but it still made Logan scowl at him.

 “So,” Patton continued. “Virgil Eran, as in Janus’s ex-roommate who burned down the apartment.”

“Oh, he fucking would!” Virgil seethed immediately. His eyes lit up in full blown anger which was a new expression on his face that Logan had not been privy to before now. “I did not burn down the apartment. If anything it was his fault! Towel with cooking oil my ass.”

“Well,” Patton said seemingly unconcerned with the outburst. “At least we have a general idea of when you’re from in case we can’t fix your timepiece and have to drop you off.”

Virgil’s face paled a bit. “Oh god, I would be in so much trouble for illegal time travel.”

Patton laughed. “To be fair. I’d be the one doing the ‘illegal’ time traveling. You’d just be a passenger.”

 “Ugh. I don’t know if they’ll see it that way,” Virgil groaned.

“Well, I can at least attempt to fix it,” Logan said.

Patton gave him a look, but it was Virgil who accused, “You just want to know how it works.” Patton was then giving Virgil a look and then after a few seconds he was looking at Logan once again even more skeptically.

“Yes, well,” Logan coughed. “It would be mutually beneficial.”

“Also, I’m pretty sure something caused him to crash,” Patton provided, “so we really ought to make sure we don’t get caught up in whatever that was if we do take him back I would rather not have another jungle adventure if I can help it.”

 “You think it was sabotage?” Logan asked.

“It was too convenient,” Patton replied. “He ended up near a music stage during a concert. The crowd just thought the noise the crash made was an issue with the equipment. That seems like a planned cover up for it.”

“Not to mention he happened to land in a time period where we are based,” Logan added. “That is suspicious as well.”

“I am not a spy!” Virgil interjected.

Logan quirked a lip. “I know, Virgil,” he said, and Patton was looking at him again.

“I would be way too anxious to be a spy.”

“I know, Virgil.”

 “Why would someone target me?” Virgil asked.

“Well, you do work with the TPI,” Logan pointed out. “In particular, Janus, who has been investigating some of the time distortions with unknown sources. We’ve been running into those as well.” He paused to think for a moment. “Perhaps we have a common enemy we are not aware of.”

Virgil groaned and put his head on the table. “But I don’t want to be all mixed up in time politics bullshit. I want to go to a Panic! at the Disco concert and observe the beginning of YouTube.”

Logan chuckled fondly. “Unfortunately, you seem to already be mixed up in it.”

 “This is the worst timeline.”

“You could have gotten stuck in pre-history for 2 months,” Patton pointed out.

“Did that happen to you?” Virgil asked, sounding a bit horrified.

“It’s why I’m tanner than usual,” Patton said as though Virgil knew how tan he normally was. “You can ask Janus whenever he gets back from it.”

“And I get back from this.”

“That too.”

‘Wait, so, Janus was stuck in pre-history?” Virgil asked.

Patton hummed. “I do have to thank you for dragging him to learn to make clay pots. It was very helpful.”

It was clear they were about to continue their conversation, but before they could, they were interrupted by the sound of the apartment door opening. “I’m back!” the voice of their third roommate called. “I know you said to get whole wheat bread, but you’re boring as hell, so I made the executive decision to buy Asiago cheese instead, and there was a buy one get one 50% off deal, so I bought 6.”

Roman wondered into the kitchen with his bags of far too many loafs of bread that Logan did not at all ask for (and likely some other bakery items that Logan also did not ask for). He paused in the entry way visibly confused as to why a stranger was sitting at their kitchen table. Virgil also appeared confused by his presence.

“Remus?” he asked.

Roman froze and his mouth popped open at the sound of his twin brother’s name and, in fact, Patton and Logan froze too.

Now, that out of all of the surprises of the day was the most unexpected.

 Chapter 43

Virgil wasn’t sure why everyone in the room was suddenly looking at him like he’d just revealed that he was alien in a human suit.

Pat was the first one who recovered from whatever had come over them all. “You know someone named Remus?” Pat asked. “Who looks like him.”

“Yes…” Virgil said. “Is he not Remus.”

Pat shook his head. “No. That’s Roman. Who has a twin brother named Remus.”

“Oh,” Virgil said with a frown. “I didn’t think Remus had any family.”

“Well,” Lo said. “That would make sense.”

The Remus lookalike, Roman apparently, who had been staring blankly at Virgil since he’d said Remus’s name finally closed his mouth. “Who are you?” he asked. “Why are you in my kitchen? Where are you from? How do you know my brother?”

 To be completely honest, Virgil didn’t really like his tone. Or for that matter, his bread choices.

“This is Virgil Eran,” Lo answered for him. “He’s a professor of anthropology who was supposed to be on a research trip to 2005 from the future, but something went wrong with his timepiece and Patton brought him here so we could help.” Patton, huh? Lo turned to him. “However, I would also very much like to know how you know his brother.”

“Remus works for the TPI,” Virgil said. He looked at Patton. “I’m surprised you haven’t ran into him. He’s Janus’s partner.”

 Patton thought for a long moment. “Gr-green paint guy?” he asked.

“What?”

“There was a man with Janus in 2999 who was covered in green neon paint,” Patton said. “Could that have been him?”

“That honestly sounds like something he’d wear, yeah,” Virgil said.

“Huh.”

Virgil felt like he was missing something, so he turned to Lo. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Remus and Roman were separated a long time ago,” Lo replied. “We have been looking for him ever since.”

“Oh,” said Virgil.

“Since we were 8 in particular,” Roman said. He’d seemed to recover from his shock at least a bit (and it must, actually be quite the shock). He moved to put the sacks of bread on the counter.

 “I assume you can put us in contact with Remus once we sort out the current issues of getting you back to your time.”

Virgil eyed Roman who seemed to not quite have absorbed what was going on. “Sure,” he said. “It’d be easy enough. I’ll just send him an email.”

“An email?” Roman said, something funny in his tone. Virgil couldn’t imagine what was going through his head. He was pretty sure he didn’t understand the half of whatever was going on here.

Patton at least seemed to have some idea what to do because he stood up. “Hey, Ro,” he said. “Why don’t we go into the other room and talk?”

 Patton nudged him towards the door to the kitchen and Virgil looked at Lo once they were out of sight. “Do you want to…?” he asked.

“From experience I am aware that Pat is more adept at helping in these situations,” Lo said. “I will… take them tea when the water finishes boiling.”

“Ah,” said Virgil. “Also, you already let a Patton slip.”

Lo winced. “I did?” he asked, but then he sighed. “Well, we were already aware the TPI would eventually know our names anyway.”

Virgil tilted his head. “Do I get to know your name then?” he asked.

 Lo looked at him for a long moment and Virgil could swear he could see math equations in his eyes as he contemplated his response. He pressed his thumb to his lip briefly as he thought. “Logan,” he finally said.

“Well, it’s nice to actually meet you, Logan,” Virgil said, sticking out a hand.

“Likewise,” Logan replied, shaking his hand with a smile.

It fell silent then. It was a slightly awkward silence, but not enough to stress Virgil out too much. That, or he was just too emotionally exhausted from the last hour or so to register this new stressor.

 He spent the time trying to connect the stranger’s face in front of him to the person he knew fairly well through emails and a few phone calls. At least, the person he thought he knew fairly well, after all, there was a chance that he was completely different in person. He seemed relatively calm for the situation, though his brow was a bit pinched, and he’d tap the table with his fingertips every so often. Yet, for the most part he was still and steady unlike Virgil who couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting in his nervousness.

The water for the tea finished boiling finally, and Logan rose from the table.

 “You’d prefer peppermint over peach green tea or chamomile if I remember correctly,” Logan said. Was it strange for him to know that Virgil wondered? They had never exactly sat down and had a cup of tea together, but Virgil did know he’d mentioned drinking peppermint flavored things often enough. Was it weird that he remembered or sweet?

“Yeah,” Virgil confirmed.

Logan nodded and plopped a bag of peppermint tea into two of the mugs, a bag of peach into another, and chamomile into the third. He must know the tea preferences of his roommates as well. It was sweet, Virgil decided when he plopped the two peppermint teas down on the table and turned to grab the other two mugs. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

 He took the teas off through the door the other two had left through a few minutes before. Virgil could hear a brief mumbled conversation from down the hall and Logan returned without the teas.

“That going okay?” Virgil asked awkwardly.

“Roman is resilient to an idiotic degree much of the time,” Logan waved him off. “He’ll be perfectly fine given some time to absorb the new information and confront his feelings about it.”

“Can I ask what happened or is that invasive?”

Logan considered it as he took his seat. “They were separated by a dysfunctional timepiece as far as we can tell,” he answered. “Though Roman didn’t have the timepiece on him when he arrived.”

 “We’re not exactly sure what the conditions were that caused the issue. Roman was confused and 8, not to mention there was a language barrier where he landed. We’ve done our best to piece together what happened over the years and where his brother could have landed, but between not precisely knowing their time and place of origin nor knowing even the baseline conditions of the timepiece used to travel, let alone the corrupted ones, we haven’t gotten very far.” He paused. “Well, perhaps not ‘very far’ is not giving ourselves enough credit all things considered, but still, the goal of our project seemed out of reach.”

 “The goal of your project,” Virgil repeated. “As in the goal of your time agency?”

“Are we considered an agency?” he asked with an amused note to his tone.

Virgil shrugged. “Probably more like a band of time pirates,” he admitted, “but that’s what you guys have been trying to do?”

“Well,” Logan said. “I do have to admit we often get thrown off course by the TPI and Patton���s moral compass doesn’t allow him to leave a situation he stumbles upon when he is aware it could cause harm, but yes, that has been the driving force behind our actions.”

 That was honestly not the image Virgil had had of them, though to be fair, his information had been filtered through what Logan let slip in emails and Janus who was not an unbiased party. “I guess you’re almost done with that goal,” he said.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “We’ll start working on fixing your timepiece and figuring out what caused your crash, so we can get you home soon. For now, we’ll need to figure out sleeping arrangements and clothing as you’ll be staying here. I do hope you enjoy Asiago cheese bread.”

“I fucking hate it,” Virgil said. “Your roommate is the devil and I hate him on principle.”

Logan sighed, but ended up cracking a smile. “Then this will be interesting.”

 Chapter 44

Logan was woken up earlier than he would have liked the next morning by chaos in the kitchen. He’d stayed up late on his laptop running through various programs he’d designed to track time travel related metrics and synthesizing the data from the last 48 hours. At some point he didn’t remember, he’d fallen asleep on the couch since he’d given up his bed to Virgil. Of course, both of his roommates tended to rise with the sun and were incapable of being quiet ever, so Logan had gotten a maximum of 3 hours of sleep depending on when he’d actually fallen asleep.

 Logan glared at Patton as he shuffled into the kitchen to get a cup of tea, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to figure out the right flavor profile for making asiago cheese bread into French toast. Roman was hovering over him making loud, and likely inane suggestions while also vehemently defending his choices in bread. Patton was agreeing wholeheartedly with everything he said and adding his own ridiculous suggestions about how to make the French toast edible while blatantly not doing any of them. Logan pushed past Roman to get to the tea shelf without a word.

 “Oh no, he’s grumpy,” Roman said.

“I haven’t even said a word,” Logan replied, swatting him away as he began picking at Logan’s sweatshirt to remove a couple of fabric pills near the shoulder.

“Exactly,” Roman replied. “You didn’t sleep last night.”

“I did,” Logan replied.

“And for how long?”

Logan didn’t respond.

“You know, sleeping can be helpful.”

“So can keeping your mouth shut,” Logan grumbled back.

“I’ll have you know, people love when I talk. You’re just being a grouchy old man. Isn’t that right Patton?”

Patton hummed. “Yes, your voice is great, sweetie,” he replied.

“See,” Roman said. “Two against one.”

 “Two against two actually,” a voice even more tired sounding than Logan’s own spoke up from the door to the kitchen, “and since you’re the subject of the statement, your opinion doesn’t count.” Virgil was standing in the doorway looking as though he had never heard of the concept of mornings and did not like the information he was being given right now. He was leaning against the doorframe as though at any moment he might slump over and fall back asleep standing. The yellow bottom of the slightly too wide nightshirt Patton had given him the night before stuck out from beneath the black hoodie he’d came here in.

 Roman was sputtering immediately. “Excuse me?!” he squawked.

“My point exactly,” Virgil muttered.

“You’re rude!” Roman said. He turned to Patton. “Patton he’s being rude to me!”

“You woke me up,” was Virgil’s response.

“It’s seven am!”

Virgil glared at him.

Patton and Logan shared a look. Patton frowned scoldingly at Logan’s amused smirk as though he wasn’t also finding this argument amusing. “Well,” he interrupted the two’s staring match. “I’m making French toast for breakfast Virgil, but it’ll be a few minutes yet. I’m sure Logan has something to show you on his computer since he was working on stuff so late last night.”

 He didn’t actually have much to show anyone yet. It was all just numbers at the moment, but the look in Patton’s eyes said, ‘We’re separating the children.’ Logan half wanted to shrug him off and just see where it went because the look on Roman’s face was amusing, but then Logan looked at the tea bags in his hand, the disaster in the making that was the French toast, and the man tiredly rubbing his eyes.

“Of course,” Logan said, evenly. “We will just be in the living room.” He walked over and shoved Virgil gently through the door. “Go get dressed,” he said under his breath.

“Wha?” Virgil asked with a squint.

“We’re fleeing the morning people.”

 Virgil gave him a confused look.

“Unless you want to be forced to eat French toast made out of asiago cheese bread. We aren’t escaping it elsewise.”

Virgil’s expression darkened and he nodded, turning towards Logan’s bedroom. Logan had grabbed nightclothes and an outfit for the morning before Virgil had gone to bed the night before (not that he’d actually changed into the nightclothes). He grabbed the outfit and changed quickly in the bathroom. Virgil was already waiting in the living room when he finished. He’d changed into one of Logan’s own hoodies that Logan had offered him the day before as he rarely wore it and blue jeans from an unknown source (they had appeared in the laundry one day and everyone refused to claim them) that were just a touch too large and thus held up by a belt.

 Virgil raised an eyebrow at him without saying a word. Logan gestured with his head towards the front door, grabbing his keys and wallet off of the table near the entrance, careful not to let the keys hit each other and make noise.

He carefully unlocked and opened the door before gesturing for Virgil to go through. He went making less noise than Logan even thought was possible, but then again, his only experience with sneaking out of anywhere was with one or two of the loudest people that had ever existed.

“Where exactly are we going?” Virgil asked once the door was closed behind Logan.

 “We’re going to go get coffee,” Logan said.

“And we can’t just tell your roommates about that?” Virgil asked.

“I am not allowed anything more caffeinated than tea since the incident of 2011.”

“Do I want to know?” Virgil asked, lips quirked up into a half smile.

Logan hummed. “Did you notice the hamster cage in our apartment?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I was sleep deprived and accidently invented a device that turns things invisible,” Logan told him. “It’s temporary on plants and inanimate objects, but it’s seemingly permanent on animals or perhaps just rodents. We haven’t tested it on any other animals.”

 “What the actual hell, Lo?”

“To be fair, I thought I was making the rocks and flowers I’d tested it on time travel a few seconds.”

“How do you accidently invent an invisibility ray or whatever while trying to invent time travel?”

“It’s a spray, and I missed a negative sign.” Logan told him. They’d been walking side by side but needed to make a sharp left turn to get to their destination and Logan found himself grabbing Virgil’s upper arm in order to guide him.

“Uh,” Virgil said which is when Logan realized it might be odd for a practical stranger to grab someone like that. “Er, where is the coffee shop?”

  It’s just a couple of blocks north,” Logan answered, letting him go after he finished the turn and flashing him a small smile. Virgil smiled back. “It’s a smaller place, but gets fewer actual college students, not that it matters since it’s summer break for them.”

“So, do you frequently perform coffee acquiring heists?” Virgil asked.

“Sometimes I drink tea there,” Logan replied, “but yes. How else am I meant to get my work done?”

Virgil laughed. “That’s probably not healthy. I don’t disagree, but it’s probably not healthy.”

Logan found himself chuckling as well as he led him down the path to the shop.

 Chapter 45

Logan did end up ordering himself more caffeine than a man who was banded from caffeine probably should have, but honestly, who was Virgil to judge. They also ordered pastries to eat for breakfast which Virgil could already tell were way too sweet, but he wasn’t complaining.

Logan got a text from one of his roommates as they were waiting for their drinks to be finished. He probably didn’t notice the fond smile he sent the phone as he answered.

“I told them I’m showing you the town a bit,” he informed Virgil. “Which isn’t technically a lie.”

 “Not, technically, no,” Virgil replied. He took a bite of the cinnamon roll in front of him and grimaced slightly. “Your time has a thing for artificial sweeteners,” he said, keeping his voice down. They were in a far back corner and it wasn’t busy at this hour, so he didn’t see too much of an issue.

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

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

 “You spent time in the 1950s?”

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

“In the United States?”

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

“An interesting topic,” Logan replied. “I imagine even in the 21st century, I would not have perspective especially on different countries.”

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

“Perhaps I’ll take a look at your work sometime.”

 “Oh, uh,” Virgil said, and he really shouldn’t be flustered about that. He’s gone to conferences and presented his work before. “Yeah, if you want.”

The barista called their drink names then, and Logan got up to go grab them. Get it together, Virgil, he begged himself while shoving another piece of too sweet pastry into his mouth.

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

“So,” Logan began. “More than just escaping the disaster breakfast my roommates had in mind, I would like to perhaps return to the location you arrived at and see if there is anything there physically that wasn’t picked up on my devices. Do you think you’ll be able to find the location if I get you in the general vicinity of the farmer’s market?”

 “I don’t always have the best memory,” Virgil said, “but I’ve had a deep-seated fear of being kidnapped since I was a small child, so I could probably lead you to the farmers market, let alone to where I came from.

“Ah.”

“My mom let me watch a horror movie when I was too young about a boy my age being kidnapped and taken out to the middle of the desert to be hunted like an animal, and he had no idea how to get back home. So, then I would spend any ride in any vehicle trying to memorize the path we took with my eyes closed.”

 “I see.”

“And I’m really oversharing for having met you in person less than 24 hours ago, aren’t I?”

Logan crinkled his eyebrows. “Are you?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Virgil said. “Traumatic childhood memories might be a bit much this soon.”

“I have never been the best at knowing social norms,” Logan said. “Would you like me to share a traumatic childhood memory with you, so we are even?”

“I…” Virgil said. “Can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“I am a bit,” Logan said with a small smile, “but if it would make you feel more comfortable, I am willing. We might not have known each other in person for very long, but we aren’t exactly strangers.”

 And that was true. Lo had been emailing him for months at this point. They’d argued about the correct order to watch a television show in, they’d watched videos together with Lo logging onto his desktop (promising not to dive into his search history and private files), and Lo had somehow attended all of his publicly streamed lectures without getting caught by the university’s firewall. He’d even managed to make Virgil feel better when he’d had one of his bad days by ranting for hours about airplanes.

He hadn’t known Logan’s face for long, but they did know each other pretty well in spite of that.

“I got distracted on a fieldtrip once,” Logan said, and oops, Virgil had taken too long to say ‘you don’t have to be emotionally vulnerable in a coffee shop to make me feel better’ and now it was too late.

 “Somehow, despite the fact that my teacher really should have been taking attendance before allowing the bus to leave the orchard we were visiting, they managed to overlook my absence. I had no friends in the class, and I was so quiet at that age no one noticed me not being there. I couldn’t find my way back to the entrance or find any workers. No one was aware I was gone until my parents came to pick me up and no one could find me. My parents were very unhappy with the teacher once they managed to find me.”

 “That experience along with others in my formative years gave me a dislike of being ignored, which combined with my innate desire to have time alone has made friendships difficult to sustain.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, unsure how to respond. “Er, well, that sucks.”

“Luckily Patton is hyperempathetic and Roman cannot be removed from a person he deems his friend with a crowbar,” he said, “which helped me at a younger age. As an adult, I am aware of the issue and am able to work through it with logic most of the time.”

“What do you think about someone who is so anxious he can’t ignore anything, especially a person?”

 “I think that would be someone worth knowing,” Logan said. He paused. “Though I would not wish social anxiety onto a person to be clear.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” said Virgil, amused.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes then. It was still a bit awkward but not completely uncomfortable.

Logan took a bite of his pastry and spoke once he’d swallowed it. “Tell me more about what your plans were with your research before they were disrupted,” he requested, breaking the silence. “Why 2005 in particular? What had you planned to do? How long were you going to stay?”

Virgil smiled and drank his coffee as he did a short rundown of what his plans had been before they were interrupted by time travel. Logan listened careful and even though it sucked that he’d been stranded in a time he hadn’t even meant to visit, he wasn’t all too upset about it for the moment.

 Chapter 46

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

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

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

Logan glanced at him and said nothing.

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

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

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

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

“It took them literal centuries.”

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

“You’re terrifying,” Virgil stated.

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

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

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked.

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

 “What does that mean for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, it could basically be anywhere?”

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

Virgil grimaced. “That sounds promising.”

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

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

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

“You do,” Virgil said.

“I do what?”

“You do have one.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know…”

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

Virgil still didn’t seem convinced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Chapter 47

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Oh,” Virgil said. “Uh, good.”

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

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

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

“Alright, fair enough.”

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

“Oh, no, I’m going to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

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

…

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…I’ll do my best?”

“You’ll do it,” Patton returned.

“Right.”

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

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

 Chapter 48

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan scowled. “No.”

“It sounded like a time travel pun.”

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

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

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

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

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

His hand was bit.

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

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

 “It’s worked on everyone else.”

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

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

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

68261

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

 “You good man?” Virgil asked.

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

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

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

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

“Like sleep?” Logan asked.

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

“Fair point.”

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

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

“Nah. You can come to the floor.”

“…Fine.”

 Chapter 49

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He should not have trusted him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s. In. A. Mall.”

“So?” Logan asked.

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

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

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

Virgil glared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“You guys have Blockbuster still?”

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

“Is it close? Let’s go there.”

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

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

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

 “Exactly,” said Virgil with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do today,” Virgil interrupted.

“I…”

“Choose a letter.”

“…S?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was a bad one.”

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

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

“Fuck,” Virgil hissed.

“Roman! You need to knock!”

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

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

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

 Chapter 50

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

“…Look,” Roman said.

“We aren’t talking about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “What?” Logan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Lo!”

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

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

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

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

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

Roman froze. “You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

 “He what?!” Roman practically screeched.

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

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

“It was… it was weird,” Patton said.

“What did he even say?” Roman asked.

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

“He talked about your butt!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, what’s going on?” Patton asked.

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

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

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

“You go take a shower,” Logan ordered.

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

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

“I know!” he called back.

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

 “Why do I have to do it?!”

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

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

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

“Hi,” Logan said.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Virgil said with a sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Chapter 51

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where?” Roman asked.

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

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

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

Patton gave him a look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No escaping them then,” Logan sighed.

 “Mmm,” was Virgil’s response.

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

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

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed softly.

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

 “Uh, okay,” Virgil agreed.

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

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

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

“So, then, what is it?” Virgil asked.

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

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

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

 “An invisible ring?” Virgil asked, curious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” Virgil said again.

“Of course,” Logan replied.

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

  Arc IV: (To Be Named)

Chapter 52

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just doing some puzzle games,” Janus said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, I had a good burger seasoning.”

“Not for every meal, Janus.”

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

“Vegetables, Janus.”

“You could have put pickles on!”

“I don’t like pickles.”

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

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

 “Well, I mean,” Janus said. “Badly.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe I want to help,” said Emile.

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

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

 “Mmm, I do,” Janus replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Janus snorted.

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

He should probably go see the head doctor again soon.

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

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

“I am,” Emile confirmed without remorse.

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

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

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

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

There was a long silence.

“Agree, you prick,” said Janus.

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

 Chapter 53

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“No,” Janus replied.

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

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

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

 “What are you doing?” Janus asked.

“Cooking!” was the immediate reply.

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

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

Janus sputtered. “This is my house!”

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

“Again, what are you doing?”

 “I’m making you soup.”

“Why?” Janus asked.

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

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

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

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

“Liar!” Patton declared.

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

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

“This is Pat,” Janus said.

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

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

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

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

“Well,” Emile said. “Hello Pat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “And you’ve met me before?”

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” Janus asked alarmed.

Patton just shrugged with a smile.

“No, Patton, what are you doing?”

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

“Patton.”

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

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

 “Janus,” Emile asked. “Why did your self-declared mortal enemy make you soup?”

“Because he’s an asshole, that’s why.”

“Uh huh,” Emile said, looking at him oddly.

“What?” Janus asked.

“What exactly happened when you were stuck in the past?” Emile asked.

Janus sighed. “A lot happened. A lot.” He glanced at the soup pot happily performing its function on his kitchen counter. ‘I hope it’s nice to meet me, because I’ve already met you,’ rang in his ears. Fucking Patton with his little hints about the future. It gave Janus just a bit of courage though knowing that Emile at least didn’t flee the continent after the conversation they had to have. He was at least around enough to meet Patton. “In fact,” Janus said. “It’s probably time I told you what happened. Everything that happened.”

 Chapter 54

They sat down in the living room. Janus let Emile have the couch and sat on one of the matching armchairs. There was a squeaky sound when he sat. The plastic covering the chair had been delivered in was still on it.

Emile had a pleasant, open but curious expression on his face and Janus suddenly had an idea what it felt like to be his patient.

“I,” Janus began after a moment, shifting uncomfortably on the squeaky chair. “I don’t know how to start this conversation. I talked about what I wanted to say and possible ways to say it with Dr. Figueroa, but I… I still don’t know.”

 “I guess I should start by saying that I did something horrible that I need to apologize for and I’m not sure if apologizing will even be enough. The problem is you don’t even know what that horrible thing is.” Janus stared at his feet. “So, first, I should probably explain what I did. I just don’t know where to start.”

“Maybe start with what happened before it,” Emile suggested. “Just lead up to it. It might help explain why whatever it was happened too.”

Janus took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “That day was just like most that I remember. We both woke up early. I was going to the TPI and you were going to where you worked your residency. We ate leftover pizza for breakfast because both of us were exhausted. You because it sucks to be a resident and me because I’d been working on a big case.”

 “I was getting frustrated with the case. That was my first mistake: being impatient and angry. It was just a thief, but a slippery one. She’d stolen a half-broken time piece and was using it to rob banks within about a 50-year time frame. I had an idea of where she might go, but no one would listen to me. Or at least,” Janus quirked a half smile, “that’s how I interpreted it. They said they’d look into my idea, but they were being extra cautious because of how close in the timestream her actions were to most of the agents’ lives.”

 “I was so tired of the case and so egotistical. I decided to check it out on my own without being cleared by the TPI. I went back in time without thinking of the consequences and that was the worst thing I’ve ever done.” Janus took a breath. “I’m not sure how, but somewhere in the course of my self-appointed mission…” He trailed off. He didn’t know how to say it. He really didn’t.

“What happened?” Emile asked when he didn’t continue.

“I…” and his next words probably sounded like crackly nonsense to Emile’s ears because he couldn’t get his thoughts straight and his tongue wouldn’t make the words right.

 “I don’t even remember living in that town or the fact that Mom used to work at that bank,” he choked out. “I didn’t think and I didn’t check and…” There was a long silence. “I erased you,” he finally managed to say in a whisper, but in the quiet of his barely lived in house, the words were loud.

There was more silence. “But I…” Emile said after a moment.

“I went back and fixed it,” Janus said, “but I… didn’t do a perfect job. I don’t even know how much I messed things up. It would have been one thing if it’d just been me. If it had just impacted my life, but I did it to you and I don’t even know how to start to apologize.”

 Nothing was said for a long moment. Janus didn’t look at him.

“…Huh,” Emile finally said.

Janus risked a glance at him. He didn’t look irate, but he did still look confused which was probably the reason for that.

“I’m sorry,” Janus said. It was really the only thing he could say at this point.

Emile tilted his head to the side. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt with slow circles. Since he was 15, Emile only cleaned his glasses with specially designed wipes, but he’d held onto the habit of cleaning his glasses with his shirt anytime he needed a moment to think. Janus wasn’t sure if Emile even realized he was doing it, but he knew it was a signal for Janus to be quiet for a few seconds.

 The glasses were perched back on Emile’s nose after a few seconds. “I think I remember that,” he said contemplatively.

“…What?” Janus asked, and he was no longer avoiding looking at Emile. He was now blatantly staring at him.

“Well, I didn’t know what it was,” Emile said, “but I did have a very odd dream on the day you mentioned and suspiciously I had said dream in the middle of the day and woke standing up.”

“A dream?” Janus asked.

“A very vivid dream,” Emile said. “I don’t believe you actually erased me completely from existence. My life was simply shifted slightly. I was working as a social worker for about 5 hours and then I was back in my appropriate place.”

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“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Janus asked, but then immediately wince at his own hypocrisy. “Er… never mind.”

“I didn’t know it was possibly real,” Emile said. “Honestly, I thought I was just really tired. I’d been overworking myself a lot. I took the rest of the day off after that.”

“You shifted reality for a few hours, and you didn’t realize it?” Janus asked.

“Like I said, I was really tired and nothing seemed to be wrong…”

“Wait, but things were different,” Janus said. “Didn’t you notice things were different.”

“Not… really,” Emile said. “Like what?”

“Like…” Janus said. “Like a whole bunch of things!”

 “Like…?”

“Like you had a different job title and you worked different hours.”

“I thought I’d fallen asleep standing up or had a vivid audio-visual hallucination at work from stress. I asked for a switch a couple of weeks later.”

“You used to hate time travel, but then you took a job at the TPI.”

Emile gave him a drawl look. “I still hate time travel,” he said. “I literally just said that not 5 minutes ago.”

“Well then why would you work for the TPI.”

“Because time travel is so confusing and distressing that people doing it on a regular basis as a career need psychological support.”

 “Plus, Lia asked for my consultation when developing the mental health part of the Agent Management Office,” Emile continued. “Considering I already knew quite a bit about time travel from being around you, she knew me personally, and I’d finished my residency, she decided to give me a job offer when my advice panned out.”

“W-well,” Janus said. “You were allergic to pineapples.”

“You mean my childhood allergy?” Emile asked. “That has since resolved itself in my adult life?”

“It has?” Janus asked.

“Janus have you considered,” Emile said, “that some if not all of the inconsistencies you were seeing in my life have to do with the fact that you hadn’t spoken to me in 3 years?”

 “I… uh… hadn’t considered that,” Janus admitted honestly.

“You were looking for information to support your incorrect world view,” Emile said sounding very much like a head doctor and not like a brother, “and you found some.” He sighed. “It makes sense after having faced a traumatic event where you effectively thought you’d killed a loved one that you weren’t thinking clearly.” The head doctor analysis voice slipped just a bit. “I just wish you’d talked about it with someone.”

“Sorry,” Janus said, because no matter which way this conversation had gone and no matter the revelations, the point was an apology. “I’m sorry.”

 Emile sighed. “I would have forgiven you even if you had erased me,” Emile said. “You didn’t mean to, and you did your best to fix it. You did fix it even if you were an idiot about it.”

“What about for being an idiot and not talking to you for three years?” Janus asked.

“I already did forgive you for that Janus,” Emile said pointedly. “What did you think the last 6 months were?”

“Pity?”

Emile gave him his disappointed and exasperated head shake. “Promise to never do anything like that to me again,” he said, “and I’ll forgive you.”

 “I promise,” Janus said immediately.

“And in the future, you’ll talk to me if you have any issue even if you think it’s horrible.”

“I think I’ve learned by lesson on that one.”

“And that goes for other people too,” Emile said. “If anything goes wrong with someone, you talk to them or if that’s too hard you talk to someone so they can convince you to talk to that person.”

Janus nodded.

“Great!” Emile said. “Then you’re officially forgiven for everything. Though I expect you to go to therapy and keep working on making yourself feel better, so these things don’t happen again.”

 And Janus… didn’t know how to feel about that. He should probably feel happy and thankful or at least relieved, but if he was being honest, he just felt kind of empty in that moment like an old well that had finally run dry. Fuck his head doctor and fuck Patton. Wasn’t this supposed to make him feel better? Everything was fine. He hadn’t actually erased Emile permanently from the timeline, in fact, he’d apparently still existed in some form in the alternate timeline Janus had temporarily made. Emile had forgiven him both for erasing him and ignoring him even though that was far more than Janus deserved. This was something he’d never even dared dream would happen, but it had been exactly what he’d wanted.

 Yet, he still didn’t feel good, not really, not like how he remembered feeling before all of this happened.

Though was that really a surprise? Things were not like how they were before. He and Emile were no longer close. There was love and affection there, but they didn’t really know each other. The last six months had been nice. He’d been able to pretend for a bit that everything was back to normal, but in the moments he hadn’t been able to pretend that, it’d been a bit stilted and awkward speaking to his brother especially at the start.

 Beyond that, Janus was just used to misery at this point. It was his default state. Not being miserable took effort and energy he didn’t always have. He felt himself slipping into sadness or numbness even during times he should be feeling good. He’d noticed himself experiencing a sense of desolation when Emile cooked his favorite meal or in the middle of watching a ballet performance Emile had suggested they go to and he’d been looking forward to in the days before or even now when he should be so happy, so ecstatic. Everything should be okay, but it wasn’t.

 “You doing alright over there?” Emile asked, and Janus didn’t know how long he’d been silent.

Instinct said to say yes and force himself to move on, but he wasn’t going to break his promise that fast. “Not really, no,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” Emile said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Why don’t we go taste the soup your arch nemesis,” there was a light teasing tone to his voice, “made for you. Some of the vegetables won’t be completely cooked yet, but I’m sure it’s already good.”

“Yeah,” Janus agreed. “Yeah, okay,” he got to his feet, the chair making that plastic squeaking sound again. “Maybe we could unwrap the furniture in here before you go home.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Emile said with a smile.