#just some ideas! again nothing super concrete to abide by

[baylardo]

Man i sweeeeeaaaaar i had a post about philippa working with boothby in his roses while she’s in starfleet academy but IDK WHERE IT WENT GIRL HEEEEEEELP (i swear i also had like, some vague idea posts about the triplets,,, but i cant seem to find them by searching anymore lol they’d be hella buried) ILL REHASH............ 

(i just wanna say too like w/e i write isnt Law,,,, Alice has her own ideas,,, i have mine,,, u can pick and choose or Simply Ignore lmaO we try to keep this au pretty open to interpret and portray and adapt or w/e)

like like like,,,,,,, i remember the idea vaguely was that peppa stumbled through academy life, things didnt come naturally to her ever, she had a HOT HEAD and would pick fights with other students, and janeway and chakotay would be struggling to figure out what to do with her, and either chakotay suggests boothby or boothby inserts himself into the equation and gets peppa to begin leveling herself out emotionally by getting her to garden with him in his roses during her spare time :) inevitably philippa ends up pursing the medical field (with great influence from Tom who’d likely have suggested it to her after tending to some of her wounds from her most recent scrap, given is own background in the field while aboard Voyager) and becomes a combat medic.

peppa ends up being the one to successfully achieve command through a unique set of circumstances leaving her as the ranking officer of a small crew (likely after her captain falls victim to their wounds...... ive toyed with the idea that there’d have been a “trust no one” conspiracy surrounding these events and the captain, choosing to put their faith in Philippa rather than other personnel outranking her, grants her an “active captain” status which she begrudgingly accepts) it’s a rough idea though which i dont anticipate getting to effectively explore haha

peppa gets along with all of her parents except Kathryn who i think experiences great difficulty in both relating to and understanding her daughter. unfortunately peppa has always craved her attention and approval, often getting overshadowed by her sister. but she’s always been driven by this need to succeed and stand out (despite rarely achieving this) for her mother. peppa loves black coffee but she drinks tea out of spite ‘cause she knows it bothers her mother if only slightly

amelia on the other hand finds solace in her mother’s holodeck programming of leonardo da vinci (though shed never admit to its usage), where she goes to confess her difficulties in maintaining the facade of interest in pursuing command for the sake of impressing her mother, being the golden child of the three. she tells him of her fascination for stories of adventure and her deep yearning to explore the unknown. she ends up wiping the hologram’s memories of whatever truths she’d confess to him and consequently she lives in this rather repressed state of not being able to admit to herself what she really wants. 

amelia is very much the apple of her mother’s eye, she’s a bit of a perfectionist, naturally exceeds at tasks, does tennis, is great at science, and has her eyes set on command. those are at least the attributes she more outwardly displays about herself; in actuality she has a passion for reading that was nurtured into her at a very young age by kathryn, tom, and chakotay, a knack for cartography she rarely has the change to indulge in (again thank you Riley i’m kissing your brain), a crippling fear of failure, a strong distaste for coffee despite drinking it frequently, and a has deep need to break free of her responsibilities and expectations.

ideally i always imagined amelia and philippa would eventually swap uniform colors. where philippa ends up becoming a starfleet captain and amelia sets her eyes on exploration and discovery underneath the science/astronomy belt. 

edward learns about about spirituality and anthropology underneath his father chakotay. he begins his studies while in starfleet academy, but inevitably chooses to walk his own path in the outlying reaches of space where he can interact with and better observe alien cultures without the lingering presence of Starfleet looming over him. he lives a very minimalistic life while aboard his own vessel during his travels between planets, rarely carrying anything more than the basic essentials. if anything he’d be a collector of relics/artifacts/culturally significant trinkets gifted to him through his many interactions. 

i loved in @and-to-you-its-just-words’ fic establishing that edward has a preference for communicating through the chirps and clicks of their hyperevolved language, i like to think that’d inevitably lead into him having this natural ability to pick up languages relatively quickly without the aid of a comm badge. he likely started in the academy learning linguistics and anthropology to refine his skills. eventually he found this format to be too slow and unsuitable a way to learn about societies and consequently he’d go for a more hands-on approach outside of starfleet regulations, though he maintains many of the rules he’d become accustom to living under for so long.

as a kid edward was very shy and clung to his mother; while she found his seemingly unwarranted attachment toward her a little disconcerting at first, it’s something she grew to become very fond of as he aged. she experienced an immense amount of heartache when he’d inevitably choose to not only leave starfleet but also to explore the vastness of the universe’s reaches outside of their ability to remain in consistent contact with each other.

[wolfiefics]

To all the fans of Steve Rogers who persist that Steve was in the right during Civil War, consider this:

Your argument that after the events of Winter Soldier he lost faith in the US government, why did he stay? Why did he not renounce his US citizenship and try elsewhere? He likely had enough ties with another country, either of familial origin or one he helped liberate during WWII, to do so. Why did he stay? Why did he continue being an Avenger? Living by US society rules put in place and maintained by the government he no longer believed in? If you can answer that in a logical way that isn't knee-jerk high-mindedness, I'll concede it.

If he was right to go against the Accords because "they stifled his freedom" then you are advocating the same mindset of the people taking guns into government buildings in an attempt to terrorize officials into not wearing protective gear designed to save the lives of themselves, their family and their fellow citizens AS IS IN THE US CONSTITUTION CHARTER. Or you are the one calling the police on someone for doing something you don't like, lying about it to make it wrong when that person was doing nothing wrong to begin with? You just didn't like them for some reason, they have to go away. FREEDOM is not a gift. It's not a thing that everyone has. EVER. Not even in the US at the time of the American Revolution. Freedom is a CONCEPT, an ideal to reach for. A utopian dream. The very nature of human civilization NEGATES freedom by its very existence. You want "freedom"? I can rob, rape, murder, enslave, and destroy everything I want to because I'm FREE to do so! No one can tell me what to do! You're the victim? Not my problem! Maybe you should be bigger, meaner, carry a bigger weapon or have more people in your side. FREEDOM is ANARCHY, lawlessness, and disrespecting others wants and needs for whatever you want to have withoutrestrictionsof moral conscience instilled by society (i.e. laws and government).

Society, civilization, has rules for a reason. So that shit DOESN'T happen. You don't follow the rules? You're a criminal. Since the Law Codes of Hammurabi its been this way (before that, those are just the first known written laws). Rules can be amended, recodified, or completely rewritten as your society and culture expands intellectually, technologically or in accordance of getting along with another culture different from yours. They aren't concrete (I was going to say "written in stone but some actually were...aforementioned Hammurabi law codes for example).

But to argue that Steve Rogers was right to IGNORE the rules and laws and do whatever he wanted because he was "betrayed" by the government is ignorant, elitist bullshit. He had NO RIGHT to do that. Attempt to dissuade, argue down or compromise, yes, definitely. But give it the middle finger and stomp off in a snit and do whatever HE thinks is right? He's no longer a law-abiding citizen who has EARNED the rights of his society. He has turned his back on them. I'm not saying the Accords were right (though they had a strong argument for it) but everyone tried to tell him "do this now, we'll wiggle it around til it's more acceptable. If not, they are going to ram it down our throats or throw us in a dark dank corner and forget we're there". But noooo! Steve was too good for that! The petty concerns of almost the entire world is not his problem! HE knows better than ANYONE what's right and what's wrong! Fuck them! He was not interested in compromise, trying to work a deal, nothing. He saw it as oppression and done! And that's how all of you who say he's in the right feel too. 112 out of 128 countries have no RIGHT to feel threatened! What's their problem anyway? It’s not like the Avengers destroyed an entire country! Oh wait.. well it's just some backwater Eastern bloc country, no big loss. And part of South Africa. And an entire floor of visiting humanitarian and diplomat workers. No big deal. The UN should just suck it up. Steve knows what he's doing.

All governments have laws a person doesn't like. Nature of the beast. You might get away with bending it on occasion, depending what it is. But if your actions breaking it means ending the lives of others or compromising/destroying their property or culture because "I'm right, you're wrong"? Bigotry. Elitism. Holier than thou. Entire civilizations have vanished for that and we know little to nothing about them because that attitude meant no one cared to note it. Those civilizations could have cures for, I don't know, CANCER!!? (Medicine Man with Sean Connery is awesome. You should watch it).

The first rule EVERY writer learns when writing about sentient beings is there are good things and there are FLAWS. There is no such thing as perfect. If you have a perfect person who can do no wrong, makes no mistakes, just rolls through life getting everything they want without effort...why would you want that? It's boring. It's unrealistic. Why is this persistent idea that everything Steve does is right and just and morally incorruptible? Sounds like some asshole that needs a bullet in the brain before he decides to kill ME for getting in his way. Most of you don't write him in your own fics that way. Why on EARTH do you think he's perfect in the movie verse? Is he not fictional? Is he not a character in a story? Is he somehow exempt in the movies of all writing conventions?

Civil War is easily the worst of the MCU movies. The potholes are so large you can hyper drive the Deathstar through them. Too many to go into here. That's a whole nother rant. But this movie is the basis of this fan idea that Steve can do no wrong and anyone who opposed or argued with him are immoral, arrogant and oppressive...or government doormats. REALLY?! It's obvious Steve trusts NO ONE. Not Sam, whose life he continually puts in danger with very little remorse. Nat, who has been at his side since two weeks after he woke in the 21st century, fought aliens, was on an elite task force with (two in fact), etc ad nauseum but since she DARED to disagree with him, she's obviously not to be trusted. And he was hyper focused on two things:Bucky and Peggy. Peggy, he moped and brooded over, punishing himself for a trick of Fate. FOR YEARS. And Bucky, who was such an obvious distraction that Hydra knew it was a HUGE weak spot and CONTINUALLY used it against him at the expense of other people's lives that Steve apparently didn't give two shits about or even attempted to modify that weakness. How many legitimate, under cover S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were exposed world-wide when Nat laid bare every record of S.H.I.E.L.D.? Not even a flicker of remorse from Steve. Made this big patriotic speech to the Triskellian but not one single mention at all in the planning of those people. None. Cannon fodder. So sad, too bad, ah well! Gotta save Bucky!! Same in Civil War. Steve headed that op in Africa. He ordered and helped gather the Intel on Crossbones and his gang. He made the plan, placed an unstable high-powered individual ALONE in the field with Nat telling her what to do over an ear piece (and Wanda blew her off), as soon as Crossbones blew Steve's strategy, he went gung-ho through a major, heavily populated marketplace, confronted the enemy, IMMEDIATELY got compromised by the word "Bucky" and allowed Crossbones to set off a suicide vest. If Wanda hadn't been there, Steve and that entire block would have been decimated. Wanda did her best, but she was not up to snuff and lives were lost anyway. Did Steve show remorse? No. He brooded that Rumlow said "Bucky and I was 16 again". He told Wanda essentially that it's regrettable but not to worry about it. Those dead people due to his hard-on to get Rumlow? All those lives of diplomats and humanitarian workers gone? No big whoop. Sad but you know, Steve's perfect so they just had to die. He willingly and uncaringly put people in harm's way that got them killed that with a cool head and better planning (or compromise with others ideas) could have been avoided. That's the making of a sociopath. A monster. NOT someone who should be in charge of an elite team that defeated an ALIEN INVASION HEADED BY A GOD.

Think about this. I loved the Winter Soldier. I think it's in my top 5 MCU movies. Other than the exposure of who knows how many legitimate S.HI.E.L.D agents who may have been in the middle of stopping child slavery rings or something, it's an excellent film. Civil War? Garbage. Utter garbage. Trash. They had a good plot, the Hydra super soldiers, that could have been action packed, exposed Bucky's whereabouts, had a big fight scene, had Tony learning Steve had been omitting how his parents died and still had Zemo taken down and the Avengers break up. Set it up even. Those soldiers were shot off screen as this confusing red herring. Why even mention them if you're just going to shoot them off-screen like an afterthought? Hmm. I should write that. I may have too, if someone hasn't done it already. If so, DM me the link?

But get away from this "Steve Rogers can't be wrong cuz he's Captain America" schtick. Bad enough Civil War turned him into a callous, selfish tool. Don't make the situation worse for him.

I love my Stucky, don't get me wrong. I'll die on this ship. But Civil War is NOT the Steve Rogers characterization you need to be advocating as the ideal. In that movie, he's an asshole and if Peggy or 1930s Bucky knew what he'd done, they'd have BOTH punched him. Maybe more than once. And withheld his dessert at dinner.

I'm just saying.

[thepathsofdestiny]

Logistics

~*~ The love and loyalty among the Phantom Thieves is deep, abiding, and occasionally confusing, which is why they decided to make a chart. The start of my new series, Where The Lines Overlap. Read it on AO3 here.  ~*~ It had been Makoto’s idea. Makoto Niijima was, after all, nothing if not organized. Her time as a college sophomore, preparing to take the law enforcement entrance exam, had taught her that things feel so much more concrete once you write them down. That was true for everything; facts, goals, even relationships. What her sophomore year also taught her was that trying to get eight college students with different schedules together in the same room was a logistical nightmare. Truly, being an adult was complicated. But no more complicated than being in love. 

That was how Makoto came to be standing in the attic at Leblanc with a whiteboard, markers, and one of Yusuke’s easels, aiming to map out hearts that were long since stolen. That is to say, Makoto was writing everyone’s names in a circle around the edge of the board, while all her closest friends chattered and cuddled in clusters around the room. Yusuke and Haru were sitting on a wooden bench, prim, elegant, long-limbed. Akira and Ryuji were by the windows, Ryuji reaching over to spin Futaba around in her new computer chair. Claiming the couch were Ann, radiant as ever, and Shiho, quiet, attentive- her sun and moon. “Alright!” Makoto called out, clapping her hands together for quiet. “Eyes up!” Her voice held as much steel as a soon-to-be police cadet as it did a lifetime ago, as second-in-command of the Phantom Thieves. In an instant, all eyes were on her. “Now then,” Makoto began, “it’s no secret that we’re all very… close… friends. There are some understandings that have gone unspoken for some time, and I think, in the interest of openness and communication-” “She wants to know who we want to fuck!” Ryuji called out from the cheap seats. “Thank you, Ryuji,” Makoto sighed. “What would I do without you.” “That’s what I’m here for,” Ryuji grinned. “Oh, and uh, sorry about the language, Shiho.” Shiho smiled gently. “It’s quite alright.” “Why do you always do that?” Ann asked. “Do what?” “You always apologize for cursing in front of Shiho,” Ann said. “She’s the only one of us you do that to. Why is that?” “I dunno,” Ryuji shrugged. “She’s, like, a lady.” “What does that make us?” Haru giggled, a faux-affronted hand at her chest. “That’s not what I mean,” Ryuji explained. “Cursing in front of Shiho is like, I dunno, cursing in front of my mom.” “Ew!” Ann made a face. “Don’t think about Shiho like-” “No no no, it’s a compliment,” Akira put in quickly. “Ryuji loves his mom.” “I do,” Ryuji nodded. “I’m flattered?” Shiho smiled. “Moving on,” Makoto groaned. Steering a conversation with these dorks was like herding cats- they never go where you want them to, even if they look cute on the way. “Alright. I was thinking we could color-code our relationships. I brought markers-” “Oh!” Yusuke chimed in. “May I see them?” Makoto passed him the pack. Yusuke studied them, a thoughtful hand under his chin, looking as if he were scrutinizing every individual dot of paint in Georges Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte rather than a 500-yen pack of markers. “Not the brand I would have chosen,” Yusuke muttered. “And an odd choice of medium-” “We’re just. Making. A chart.” Makoto seethed. Yusuke blinked up at her, meekly returning the pack. Makoto saw a hand across the room. “Yes, Akira?” “Which color should we do first?” Makoto sighed in gratitude. “...I was thinking we could start with red, for sexual attraction.” “Why didn’t you just start with a red board?” Everyone turned. Futaba was sitting in her computer chair, knees hugged to her chest. “What?!” Futaba said, defensive. “You’re all super hot!” Futaba saw the face Akira was making and rolled her eyes. “Except you, obviously!” “What about the other colors?” Shiho offered gently. Makoto smiled at her, grateful. “I thought we could use blue for emotional intimacy, and yellow, for non-sexual, physical intimacy. Basically for all the cuddlers.” “Oh, we should have started with a yellow board,” Haru mused. “I suppose all my lines will be green, then,” Yusuke said beside her. “Sex is not something I have a vested interest in.” “Hey, aren’t you two living together?” Ann asked. “Oh, yes, Yusuke’s a lovely housemate!” Haru cooed. “We’re both of us tremendously lonely people with no family to speak of, so we fit together quite nicely. He’s a lovely cuddler, and a lovelier person to confide in. And I get to provide for him. I’m glad to cater to his expensive tastes in terms of art supplies, interior decorating…” “...his regular tastes, like eating more than just bean sprouts…” Akira muttered. “I am regularly dismayed at having to turn my attention away from art and towards such base concerns,” Yusuke said. “What, like feeding yourself?” Akira asked. “Aww, that’s cute, though,” Ryuji grinned. “You two are practically married.” “Except they never have sex,” Ann said. “Uh, yeah. So they’re married.” “Guys, if we could focus for just two seconds…” Makoto sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Excuse me.” “Yes, Shiho?” “May I go first?” Makoto smiled. “Yes. Go right ahead.” Shiho rose, taking the pack of markers from Makoto and standing by the board, studying it. “I’m afraid I’m not as deeply involved in this circle as all of you,” Shiho admitted, sheepish. “Certainly not as much as I’d like.” “It’s okay,” Makoto said softly. “The board’s only going to get more crowded from here,” Akira shrugged. “True,” Shiho said. “Now, what were the colors again?” “Red for sexual intimacy, yellow for physical, blue for emotional,” Makoto said. Shiho uncapped the blue marker. “Well, Akira’s always so easy to talk to,” she said, drawing a blue line between her name and his. “And Ryuji can be surprisingly insightful at times…” “Do you have to say ‘surprisingly’?” Ryuji grumbled, as Shiho connected their names in blue. “And, um,” Shiho hesitated, before switching to a green marker. “...I’ve… grown rather fond of you, too, Mako-chan…” Haru gasped. “She calls you-?! Oh no! That’s adorable!” “And Ann…” Shiho smiled, settling on a black marker. “...well. Do I even have to say it?” Shiho drew a black line between their names. Ann ran up and threw her arms around Shiho from behind, Shiho pulling her hand away from the board before the line became a squiggle. “Oh, Shiho!” Ann wailed, full of an aspiring actress’ staged melodrama. “Oh, Ann…” Shiho purred. “Oh, brother,” Makoto said, but she was smiling just the same. She held up the pack of markers. “Who’s next?” ~*~ They took turns adding to the chart, everyone keeping an eye out for black lines, in particular. Some of those, people saw coming- Akira and Ryuji, for example, since after years of tacit understanding Ryuji was finally able to say it out loud. The room grew warm with Ryuji’s embarrassment and the group’s pride in him, although Futaba had to ruin it, wondering how Ryuji outran his feelings for so long on a bum leg. Some of these, people didn’t see coming- for instance, when Haru came up and drew green lines between Akira, Yusuke and herself, yellow lines for almost everyone else… and a single black line, between her and Makoto. “When did this happen?!” Ryuji had blurted out. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” Haru had said, coy. “This whole meeting is us kissing and telling,” Makoto had to remind them. “When does the kissing start?!” Futaba had cut in. Some of the lines, however, needed a little more fuss. Ryuji and Ann, in particular, had stood in front of the whiteboard, scrutinizing it with the same level of intensity as Yusuke had studied the markers. There was a green line between their names, but Ann had the red marker in her hands, capping and uncapping it, wondering. “I mean… does it count?” Ann asked, completely serious. “It was one time,” Ryuji shrugged. “I don’t think it counts.” “Yeah, but…” “Make it black, you cowards!” Futaba called from her seat in the corner. Ann and Ryuji blushed. They looked, first to Shiho and Akira, respectively, then to each other. “W-We’ll talk,” Ryuji said. “Yeah,” Ann said, capping the red marker and tossing it aside. “You poor dears,” Haru teased. “Three years of this back-and-forth,” Yusuke chuckled. “Hey, remember what I said about you two being married?” Ryuji sniped, but he was smiling. By the time Akira stepped up to the board, it was a tangled knot of color. He turned, catching Makoto’s eyes. “Bless this mess, huh?” he asked. “You love it,” Makoto smiled. “I do.” Akira was going last, so by now, everyone should have drawn all the lines connecting to him. By the look in her eyes, Makoto knew it- but she handed him the pack regardless. When Akira stepped away from the board, there was a red line going around the circle of names, linking his name with everyone- Except Futaba. “What?!” Futaba exploded. “HOW COME HE GETS TO FUCK EVERYONE?!” “Dude!” Ryuji cut in. “Watch your fucking language!” Akira smiled a trickster’s smile as the room dissolved into teasing laughter around him. Makoto only handed him some blotting paper and shook her head, smiling. ~*~ Makoto’s ‘meeting’ concluded with a tangled, multicolored jumble on the whiteboard as well as on the attic floor, Akira having unrolled the spare futon as a makeshift carpet. They all huddled together in a pile of intoxicating warmth, chatting, cuddling, poking at their phones, stretching unselfconsciously across each other’s legs. Futaba was in the corner, clicking through the PC she’d built for Akira during his senior year away from Tokyo, which had taken the place of his work desk where he’d once made lockpicks. She was putting together a playlist- or trying to. Uniting the musical tastes of eight college students was almost as difficult as getting them all in one room. Almost. “Hey, shitlord,” Futaba said. “Hm?” Akira looked up from his seat on the floor. Makoto and Ryuji were sprawled across his legs, watching some MMA fight on Ryuji’s phone. “What’s up?” “I need you to head down to the Triple Seven and get some snacks.” “Why?” “Because I’m hungry?” “Fine,” Akira said. “Pass me my wallet?” Futaba reached out her hand, making grabby motions. “Nope. Can’t get it. It’s too far.” Akira sighed and stood up, grabbing his wallet off the computer desk, six inches from Futaba’s hand. He smiled, and thwapped her on the head with it, tossing it back down on the desk. “Brat.” “Bite me.” The stairwell creaked as Sojiro clambered up into the attic, smiling wryly at the cuddle pile on his floor. “What, are you throwing some kind of party up here?” Sojiro muttered. “It’s always a party when Akira’s around, sir,” Ryuji said. “Hmph. Ain’t that right,” Sojiro said. His gaze drifted to the whiteboard. “What’s this?” “Oh!” Makoto got to her feet. “That’s, um… you see, sir…” Sojiro studied the circle of names, linked together in multicolored lines. He frowned. “...This isn’t one of those ‘jelly bracelet’ things, is it?” “No no no no no!” Makoto said quickly. “I mean, it could be, if you weren’t cowards,” Futaba muttered. “Jelly bracelets? Is that some kind of candy?” Shiho wondered, oblivious. “It’s not,” Akira said firmly. “I… Look, it’s none of my business,” Sojiro said, uncomfortable. “Listen, I’m gonna close up shop. Don’t forget to lock up, alright, son?” “I won’t, D-” Akira caught himself, but it was too late. Everyone was looking at him. “Aww!” Haru cooed. “The paperwork hasn’t gone through yet!” Futaba hissed. Akira stuck his hands in his pockets, weathering the teasing. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Sojiro cleared his throat. “...You, uh. You kids have fun, alright? But not… too much fun.” “We won’t, sir,” Makoto said. “She’ll make sure of it,” Ann said, clinging to her arm. Makoto playfully swatted her away. Sojiro smiled and shook his head. “You kids…” Sojiro disappeared down the steps. The attic at Leblanc fell into a comfortable, intimate quiet. Ann’s hand closed around Makoto’s wrist, and she let her pull her down onto the floor, she and Shiho nuzzling into her like cats. Haru was coiled up on the futon, not unlike a cat herself, chatting with Yusuke about plans to decorate the house while he sat drawing her, a sketchbook on his lap. Ryuji was sprawled out in the middle of the floor, one hand in Ann’s hair, the other one poking at his phone. He dropped his phone flat on his chest and looked up. Ryuji reached up, grabbed hold of Futaba’s computer chair, and gave her another spin. She laughed as she went around, Akira’s hand smoothing against her hair as she came to a stop. Akira smiled- and wasn’t convinced he had ever stopped smiling, not since he’d returned after a year away from Tokyo, not since he’d come home to this tangled mess of limbs and hearts. He caught Makoto’s eyes across the pile. “It’s good to get everyone together, isn’t it?” Akira said. “Even if it’s like herding cats,” Makoto mused. “Hey,” Ryuji said, his voice breaking the warm quiet. “Now that we’re all here…” Ryuji sat up, suddenly aware everyone was looking at him. He grinned. “...Do you guys want to make out?” There was a pause, and a murmur. Ryuji blinked, not expecting anyone to actually consider it. “Um,” Ann said quietly. “I’d, uh. I’d be down.” Akira snickered. Then his wallet hit him in the face. “Hey!” Futaba said. “I still want those snacks!’ Akira shook his head and smiled, picking his wallet up off the floor and carefully stepping through the tangle of limbs. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone,” Akira said. “Makoto, you’re in charge.” “Understood,” Makoto smiled. Akira took one last glimpse at the chart before heading downstairs. It felt strange to say, but he was glad they had taken the time to write it all down. It felt more real that way. More solid. Not any more solid than the party going on in the attic, but still. Scheduling was going to be an issue, he was sure. He technically had a cafe to run. Makoto, Yusuke, Haru, and Shiho were all going to different schools, and into different fields. Futaba was taking online courses, which, along with ‘me time’, meant she was cooped up in her room and unavailable. Ann was an actress, so her schedule was a mess. And Ryuji, well… Ryuji was still figuring things out. Just like they all were, really. Still, after all this time... It was good to get everyone together. ~*~