#that started with ‘two twins starting high school how will they differentiate themselves and will they stay close!!’

[corvidshipping]

every time i watch m.onsters i.nc i get the urge to bring back the weirdly detailed fucking 1000 page fanfiction i spent months carefully building when i was like. eleven years old

[prodtrouver]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ who is who || choi twins au

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ there was something about you that the Choi twins are so impressed about. It's the way you remember who is who after a long time of not seeing each other.

choi twins x older fem!reader

fluff - the twins high schoolers while you're already in university, lowercase letters are intented

The Choi Twins — Choi Yeonjun and Choi Yeonjin is an unpredictable pair.

Such identical twins with different personalities. While the other is as sweet and gentle as a butterfly, the other is as mischievous and sly as a cat. It was almost as if they were polar opposites.

One thing about them is that they're not often together. One likes to adventure and the other likes to stay in. Although, they swap places in certain times to escape what the other doesn't like.

No one in their life have been able to differentiate them, except for their parents and the people who raised them.

Unlike in movies where they tried to have subtle differences with twins, Yeonjun and Yeonjin doesn't have too much differences. It's hard to tell who is who when they aren't together.

However, that isn't the case for you.

A person who is much older than them had caught their attention. They don't know why though...

Is it because of your soft-spoken personality? Is it because of your gentle smile? Is it the way you look so kind and calm all the time?

"oh, it's Yeonjin!" or is it because you can easily differentiate them both from each other?

The younger stared at you with shock.

Years have passed... You're now studying in university while he's still in his 3rd year of highschool... How come you can still tell who is who?

"hello, yn noona..." He said in a soft spoken manner. You tilt your head while holding your books close to your chest.

"that's weird... you're normally not this soft spoken... Did something happen while I was away?" You leaned closer to him. He dyed his hair pink which was a color that suited him.

He couldn't help but stare at you. It's been so long since he's seen you. He gulps the lump in his throat.

You're right — he's not normally soft spoken. Instead, he would flirt with you non stop. It would result to Yeonjun scolding him and taking you away from his twin.

So why is he suddenly so soft spoken now? Why is his heart beating so fast on your first encounter since your graduation?

"you've changed, noona."

"I've changed?" You tilted your head. "In what way have I changed?" You let out a chuckle.

Little did you both know, Yeonjun was walking through the sidewalk, on his way to school. His eyes widened when he saw you and his twin.

"noona?" He started making his way towards you two. You smiled at the other, patted his head as a hello.

"wah~ yeonjun has grown as well! You both were just a tiny bit taller than me in highschool." Yeonjun's cheeks were immediately tinted red when you said his name.

It's known that you're the one of the few outside of their family who can recognize them. Like Yeonjin, Yeonjun never expected you to still recognize who is who.

"you still remember?"

"of course, I remember! Just because I left for uni, that doesn't mean I forgot my favorite twins!" The two blushed at what you've said.

"although, I am quite confused... Why are you both so surprised? Did you actually think I forget who is who?" The two nodded, to which you laughed at.

"how can I forget both of you? You made my life brighter." The twins smiled at your words.

It surely is surprising. It's like they forget about themselves when they're with you. The way Yeonjin softens and Yeonjun adores you... It's only you who can make them like this.

"oh, right! I don't want to make you guys late! You should go to school now." You said with a smile.

"how about you? How about university?" Asked Yeonjun while the three of you started walking to your old highschool or the current highschool of the twins.

"me? I take afternoon classes. I was headed to the library before bumping into Yeonjin! Surely a good morning to see both of you."

If there was one person whom they wanted to stay in their life forever, that would be you.

You're different — you're someone whom they consider different. You could tell who is who. You could tell what both twins like and dislike.

You know so much about them. And they like to believe that you'll always be with them.

After all, you've claimed their hearts a long time ago.

general taglist: @glorybeom @staysstrays @tonightletspretend @jiminismybabymochi @yeonyeonyeonjun @acciomylove

© ALL WORKS BELONGS TO 00-BAEJIN-05

[obeymeluv]

The Baby Assignment [Beel]

Not gonna lie, I wanted to do Mammon next but I love this big guy, so... The names for his sons (again, from “The Boys as Dads” post) were pulled from Wikipedia after a bit of research. I wanted to see what other names and history were tied to Beelzebub and I found Hesperus and Baal.

Apparently “Baal” was used to refer to Beelzebub in the Hebrew Bible. It was technically a title meaning “Lord” but could be used to reference specific demons. “Hesperus” comes from Testament of Solomon where Beelzebul (not Beelzebub; at some points throughout history these two were separate entities and at other times they were the same figure with different names) talked about his old high-ranking status in heaven and how he was tied to the star Hesperus.

Mammon’s probably going to be next, but I have to do more name hunting.

Beel is secretly excited to be partnered with you. He’s kind of curious about how the kid will look. More human? More demon-like? The two of you stand in the circle and not one but two babies explode in little clouds

Unfortunately, they’re already crying. Whether they’re hungry or the flash of light hurt them, you don’t know. Beel’s already giving this low, comforting purr and shrugging out of his jacket to swoop them up like some little papoose. This quiets them a little.

He can’t help but giggle because they feel like little hams in his arms. Tiny roasted Devilbirds. They look on the bigger side for Devil babies but they’ve got cute round faces and big sparkly eyes already tinging with that orange glow he gets at nighttime. They are carbon copies of Beel and he’s a little sad he doesn’t see the ‘you’ in them.

They wiggle a bit in the temporary papoose but settle when one arm breaches to grab a tiny, pudgy fistful of his shirt. There’s a few moments of ‘open, close, open, close’ where you think the baby is making biscuits against his chest but he finishes up with a firm grab.

Beel ties the papoose around you so he can carry the magic trunk back to the house. You take great care in keeping the light away from them and don’t know quite how to feel yet about that orange tint to their eyes. They observe you with much interest. They’re still cute though.

You’re walking back to the house with Beel and the others when the jacket blob starts to move. You think they’re getting restless (maybe need air?) and peel it open just enough to see what’s going on. They’re trying to tear a hole in your uniform to latch. They want skin-to-skin contact. One of them has their arm down your uniform top.  The other is trying to jam their hand in there, too.

You just hold them close as you walk to the House of Lamentation. You bet by the time you get there, you’ll be missing a few buttons.

Beel sets up the trunk in his and Belphie’s room (Belphie’s seriously considering relocating to the attic for about a week) and helps you sit down. He undoes the papoose to find they’ve ripped a decent chunk out of your school uniform and are trying to hide between the fabric and your body. They’re holding hands, their other one either tucked under them or latching onto you somewhere else. It’s really cute and Beel goes beet red.

If you’re female, this gets Beel extra flustered because--for some reason? Demon brain and baby hormones?--he’s thinking about you breastfeeding two kids and being pregnant with another one.

Is he gonna be one of those guys that wants lots of kids? Probably.

He opens the trunk in search of jumpers or something that will help them keep their heat and is surprised to see insulated bags of squeeze-type baby food. All KINDS of food, actually!

He’ll have to try some for quality assurance. Does it actually have substance?

Those kids get it honest because they’re literally only an hour old and they KNOW what food packages sound like. Your uniform tears a little more because suddenly two little ginger-headed babies are watching his every mood like a hawk, heads thrust out of the little hole they made.

Beel is not a fan of opening tiny baby food portions. His hands are very big and this is a problem. He ends up puncturing the cap with a fang and squeezing some out. It works, so he hands it over.

These kids snatch food like Mammon taking a grim, okay? Watch your fingers.

Suddenly there’s a little fussy fight breaking out in your top because one baby has one and one baby has nothing. Beel can’t get the second one fast enough. He just shakes it outside the hole and hopes the empty-handed one takes it.

You tell Beel to help you out of your uniform since it’s basically ruined. Boy heats up real bad, touching your skin and everything. Big boy has it BAD!

The kids hiss and growl and cry until you set them in his jacket and make a nest. Then they’re back to being content little angels, gumming and sucking on the little pouches

“I hope all this eating means they grow fast,” Beel smiles as he takes the empty pouches and looks in the trunk again. It’s imbued with magic that only lets the ‘parents’ open it so there’s no accidents. He’s looking for other flavors as you hug the jacket nest.

Somehow you end up with a tiny little hand tangled in your hair as they try to pull you into the nest. You just lay in the middle and they lounge on you. They are BIIIIG on contact. Like to touch all the time. Very snuggly.

You’re kind of shocked but Beel is big into photography. He never answers you when you ask why, but he’s very diligent about taking pictures. They’re not always the best quality but boy never misses a moment.

After about three pouches apiece, they’ve moved onto Beel. They like to snuggle around his stomach and you joke about his ‘baby bump’. You take the pictures now. 

By the end of the night your name has a sound. They are grabbing at you and Beel at the dark, giving calls and trying to wake you up. They want to eat again.

This goes on for days 2 and 3. The twins are more active at night since their eyes don’t hurt and yours and Beel’s sleep schedule are officially messed up. Day 2 they are very vocal with their demon vocal chords, so you basically need a translator. Day 3, you’re used to their nightly disappearances and sneak down sometime after them to see Beel digging through the fridge.

“Apple? See? Apple. Ap-ple.” Beel apparently like smothering them in forehead kisses. He’s passing the food between them and suddenly it’s just three demons cooing over a piece of fruit. They’ve inherited the biting instinct because all three of them bite it at the same time.

He was fixing to wake the house with a happy yeowl about the fangs but had some sense that someone was behind him, so you’re gifted with the sight of three demons still holding onto an apple. “They go’ fanfs,” is what you think you here. Beel technically got the first purr with that one.

When the fangs come out, the food fights start. If you feed them with a spoon or fork it is LITERAL begging for them to let go so you can get more food for them.

Feeding them is a two person job, not because there are two of them, but because one of them needs to attract the biter with a different food so they let go of the utensil. 

They get teary and screechy when they’re not fed fast enough. Hesperus’ first word was “MO’!” (more) as he’s slamming his little fists on the feeding chair and puts a crack in it. Baal takes full advantage of the surprise and latches onto the spoon Beel almost drops. Another struggle ensues.

Between Day 3 and Day 4 they have the muscle strength and build to fully walk themselves. Half of the time they “skitter”. For some reason they don’t like walking upright.

Previously, you could only tell them apart with the brothers’ help (demons can differentiate demons). Now you and Beel have a color-coordinated system to tell the twins apart.

They seem to take after their Uncle Belphie and hide in unusual places. The only way you and Beel find them are by walking around the house and shaking various packages of food. You think this is a joint effort to eat more. 

Baal says ‘thank you first’ and is the gentle teether. He likes to cuddle like that. Hesperus is an avid climber that prefers to latch

Half the time you don’t know if the twins are cuddling and scenting or play fighting. They’re more energetic than you expected.

Ironically, there favorite person is Mammon. He runs fast when Lucifer scares him and they like to chase him. When they want to sleep, they go to Uncle Belphie. He’s just not energetic enough to play with. 

They’ll grab anyone’s leg and sit on them. They like to be carried like this. 

Asmo only managed to get a blurry picture of it, but somehow the twins managed to get Lucifer to drag them around by sitting on his cape. It was very cute.

They’re pretty much Beel’s shadow. They like to follow him and he regularly uses them as extra weights in his routine. Sometimes they run around the yard together. Beel tries to teach them how to play Fangol but they end up trying to gnaw the ball to death and end up wrestling for it. “At least they’re active,” he mumbles as he picks you up to keep you out of harms way

They fall asleep in the grass, fangs still trying to dig into the ball.

Day 5 and 6 they become strong talkers and always insist on going long walks. They want to look at alll the stuff! They’re probably at the age of four or five (maybe six) and Beel deems them behaved enough to see some of his favorite restaurants in the Devildom.

You eat so much you think you’ll be sick. You have three boys who will gladly help you with the rest. They fight over an extra-hard crunchy baguette and don’t seem to have the concept of sharing at this point. They’re fussing and butting heads and Beel notices their horns are breaching.

You bag everything to go and Beel offers to fly you all home since you’re absolutely stuffed. He barely hears it, but a tiny little whine is trying to harmonize with his wings. One of them has grown wings (it was Baal).

That evening is spent with Beel and Belphie gently bumping them with their horns to coax them out.

You’re constantly portioning food and trying to make it fair. Beel is a good mediator. He won’t let his kids starve by any means but if they won’t share after he’s explained (and re-explained) why it’s nice to do so, he just eats the thing so they have nothing to fight over 

They learn that lesson in the dead of night when they sneak down for their own raid and use each other (and the cabinets/drawers) like a jungle gym to get to the good stuff. Whatever they grab, they split. When Beel catches them, some kind of chocolate thing over his face, Baal looks unapologetic and Hesperus just asks if he wants a bite

Beel is not a disciplinarian. You will have to do that. 

Overall the boys are very helpful. They will help bring in groceries and clean up the yard with their uncles. They really love doing the latter because the find all kinds of bugs. They try to give them to Mammon and Lucifer but both of them hate them. A lot.

Belphie notices them and pays them in food to put bugs in Lucifer’s office and bed. No regrets. Satan joins in on this with fancy foods from his foodie connections. They are the unofficial mascots of the Lucifer Sucks Club

Day 7 involves visiting some of Beel’s club activities and the members being absolutely in love with the kids. They get them tiny Fangol jerseys and they run around with the ball. It’s a good day with lots of cute pictures.

They try to hype of the twins and put them on their shoulders but it was here you learned Baal doesn’t like Hesperus getting too far from him and DEFINITELY doesn’t like him being around a bunch of strangers. You don’t know if he thought they were taking him away, but they definitely got dive-bombed by a tiny flying ginger.

Beel has to console him and keep them together for a few hours until he calms down. Simeon overheard the commotion (actually: heard it from Solomon, who was told by Asmo) and offered to make some Celestial Treats to “share the heritage” since Beel is technically an angel.

The twins also love Luke TO DEATH and he is extremely stressed out. They’re cute but very strong and accidentally kind of rough. They chase him too. They want to climb on him; one is enough to knock him off guard and two practically smother him. Send help. 

Simeon is absolutely in love with them and the boys cuddle him and shake him down for sweets as nicely as they can. 

Diavolo may not be as close to Beelzebub as he is Lucifer, but he still wants to see the children. Demon children are a beautiful thing (and he wants an excuse to get out of work)! On Day 8, Barbatos whips up a very fancy meal which the kids are all for. They like playing hide and seek with Diavolo. You and Lucifer both about shit a brick when they take to climbing on chandeliers and up into the crevices of the castle. Hesperus learned to fly that day, and refused to come down for Lucifer.

Day 9, Barbatos and Simeon invite them to a garden-style orchard to pick fruits and vegetables. They boys are covered in dirt and have leaves in their hair but they are very proud of what they picked and can’t wait to make things to eat (they look very cute in overalls). 

Somewhere between Day 8 and 9 both boys have gotten into the habit of shucking off their shirts to let their wings stretch out. When they don’t feel like talking, they sound off with their wings. Beel has adopted this habit and can usually be seen shirtless or in one of those muscle tees with the holes in the side.

On Day 9 the boys decide they want to make a big buffet for the class since Beel took a lot of pictures. They know basic knife skills and have special protective gloves and things like that. Beel bought you all matching aprons. The whole thing goes relatively smoothly; you have a family tray ‘for sampling’, and a bigger portion that will be taken to the class

All bets are off when it comes to making desserts. It’s hard to get the batter into the pan before they’re trying to “lick the bowl clean” (it’s not even empty). You end up with two chocolate-smeared demons that Asmo very reluctantly lets into his bath. You help wash. Beel supervises and is prepared to catch these crafty, sweet gremlins in towels.

Day 10, you make your way to the classroom. The boys want to dig into the buffet (”But your friends are doing it!”) and they almost forget to do the report. They talk for a little bit, pause for a snack. It’s pure bribery. They are finished and rewarded with more food. Beel strings up all his photos at the front of the classroom as the boys sit in your lap and eat.

They make their way to the summoning circle and the teacher has a hard time determining their age. These two are built like brick houses. Are they in the upper percentile for everything or actually older? They’re either very tall eight-year-olds or the age limit goes above 10. Results are inconclusive. 

You get a B that is argued to an A on Satan and Lucifer’s behalf. The teacher tried to argue that they were a little unruly and showed a lack of discipline but duh, they’re kids!

Hesperus growled something out in pure demon and you’re not sure what it was. Judging by Belphie and Satan’s expression, it’s probably something a parent wouldn’t want their kid to say. Who knows where they picked it up from?! 

Baal just looked like he wanted to bite the guy’s nose off, and has taken a protective mantling stance on Beel’s shoulder.

You walk them to the summoning circle and the twins are just as sad as Beel. They want to stay. Baal is crying silently and can only manage to bring his horns out and bump heads. Hesperus makes you promise to cook lots of food ‘for when we come back’ and that he’ll even wash dishes if you promise.

You give them kisses and wipe Baal’s tears away, to which he gently teethes on you. Hesperus just hugs his brother from behind, the two disappearing in thick clouds of smoke.

The class goes on casually as people pick at food and gush about the twins. You stay behind with Beel to pack up the uneaten food. He’s very solemn as he’s taking all the photos off the board, handling them with care. 

“So, uh...why the photos?” you’ve tied up the last bag and have it sitting on the big catering trays Simeon lent you.

“I didn’t want to forget them like I did Lilith...not that I ever really forgot her. Sometimes it’s just...hard to remember her clearly. You know, to remember everything from before. It happens when you’re over five thousand years old.” he’s trying to smile sweetly for you but you can see the pain in it, “I just wanted to keep them with me. I didn’t get that option with her.”

Ooh boy have the floodgates opened for both of you! You hold this big six-something demon boy like he’s one of your babies and he’s never been more grateful. He feels your tears in his hair and you both have a cathartic cry. There’s no where comfortable to snuggle so you opt to heal quietly at the House of Lamentation with some of the leftover food.

It’s a quiet affair, hiding in Beel’s room. You catch him constantly touching your stomach but don’t say anything. His hand is warm and large over your stomach. You’re on the edge of a food coma when you hear him mutter, “Maybe one day.” as he gives it a little pat.                    

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 4, We Interrupt This Program

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: [Y/N] is still recovering from one of the worst migraines they’ve ever had and they have the scars to prove it… Wait. Those scars weren’t there before and they certainly weren’t from passing out on the sidewalk a few days prior!

Word count: 9,361

Warnings: Mentions of (not super graphic) death and mental illness. Also Reader being just a little horny on main, but what’s new; almost 9.5k words and they’re simping for most of them. Lots of dorky fluff and also talking about insecurities.

Tag list: @madamevirgo​ @ravennight41​ @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard​ @badasspolygenderfriend​

~~~

    In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, voices were conversing.

    “[Y/N] [L/N]…” one started.

    [Y/N] [L/N]. Age twenty-five. Born to Killian and Alice [L/N] in [city, state] but Dad wasn’t in the picture. No siblings, no living relatives. They wanted to go to school for botany but Mom was diagnosed with early-onset dementia while they were still in high school, so they changed their career path to neurology in hopes of finding a way to help her. She still lives in their hometown.

    “Oh, wait,” another voice chimed in, almost indistinguishable from the first, “I know this one. Oh, God.”

    [Y/N] was an Honors student, at the top of all their classes. A degree in neurology with phytotoxicology on the side. They took an internship in Europe one year and somehow found themselves in Sokovia. HYDRA was still laying low at the time, caught wind of them.

    “Wait,” a third voice, this one easier to differentiate from the other two. “They’re HYDRA?”

    The second voice responded, “Former.”

    [Y/N] had no idea what they were getting into. HYDRA, always good at hiding in the shadows; they brought [Y/N] in under the guise of an assistant job studying new forms of neural regeneration. A job that paid well enough to live comfortably and even send a little extra home, while developing something that just might solve all their mother’s problems? It was a dream come true. 

Fortunately for HYDRA but unfortunately for [Y/N], they were very good at their job too. They helped HYDRA develop all kinds of nasty stuff. Nanobots that changed brain chemistry, near foolproof brainwashing tech— They even helped develop special toxins, one of the world’s deadliest poisons. All the while, thinking they were doing something good.

“How is that possible?” the original voice asked. “How could they have been so oblivious?”

“One-track mind?” the second voice offered, “Plus misinformation on HYDRA’s part and ‘routine health checks’ with something a little extra mixed in.”

“They were tested on?”

“A victim of almost everything they’d helped create, except the fatal stuff and anything that would disrupt business as usual. IVs and shots full of toxins, nanobots being released into their room while they slept.”

The third asked, “What changed?”

“Wanda.”

[Y/N] stumbled upon Wanda and her brother by pure accident. They’d been late that day and in their hurry, ran through a wrong door to where HYDRA was keeping Sokovian volunteers for testing. The twins were the youngest in their group, [Y/N] was only a couple of years older and the youngest in their division. It was a match made in heaven, really.

“Try hell,” the first voice suggested with a scoff.

The other voices offered their murmured agreements.

“So they knew each other,” the third voice said, “Before.”

That’s when [Y/N] started pulling at threads and HYDRA’s costume began to unravel; their one-track mind had switched gears. There was something too weird about the whole thing, these Sokovian civilians had stories that didn’t line up with [Y/N]’s own. 

“And they believed them?”

They believed Wanda. She and her brother were just two more Sokovian citizens suffering at the hands of war and wanting to help their people. They had no reason to lie. They had more reason to be honest to [Y/N] than HYDRA ever did, actually. It was just a bonus that for Wanda and [Y/N], being around each other was like being a moth drawn to a flame.

[Y/N] may have been naive but they were far from stupid. When they figured out what was going on, they wriggled their way deeper into HYDRA’s ranks under their own disguise of loyalty. They became a full-fledged HYDRA agent, tasked with assisting in neural and poisonous weaponry. They weren’t able to protect Pietro and Wanda from testing, obviously—not that Wanda would have let them; she and her brother still believed they were being tested on for the greater good—but they did their best to stay nearby and keep the Maximoffs’ sanity intact for as long as they could. They even managed to save a couple of the other test victims by injecting them with temporary poisons that lowered their heart rate to the point of appearing dead. When the bodies were dropped off, the poison wore off not long after and some of the victims were able to escape. No side effects to be seen.

“I have a question,” Original voice said abruptly. “Why do we know this much information on one person? Like, this is some in-depth, intimate stuff. Why do we know that [Y/N] and Wanda had the hots for each other since day one?”

Second voice answered, “We’ve done extensive research on [Y/N]. The result of an investigation on the person who caused the apprehension of an entire faction of HYDRA after successfully poisoning them.”

The tests that were done on [Y/N] were not without their outcomes. They gained the ability to transform almost any matter into almost any other form.

“Huh,” Third voice hummed, “That reminds me of a series of disappearances a few years back. One house was replaced by rose bushes and another—get this—burned down because the roof had been turned to lava. Whoever it was, they either stopped on their own or died. What were they called?”

“The Alchemist,” Second stated simply, much to Third’s dismay. “And those were incognito HYDRA agents.”

After Pietro died and Wanda disappeared—not really disappeared, just left with the Avengers—[Y/N] had a choice to make. They were far too deep into HYDRA’s work now, the awful things that they had done were beginning to weigh on them, as Wanda and her brother had been just as grounding for [Y/N] as [Y/N] had been for her. After she was gone, they had a hard time dealing with the horrible business going on around them. So they did what they knew how to do; they mixed up a combination of poison and nanobots.

[Y/N] had fully committed to perishing with the rest of their coworkers but apparently, the poison hadn’t been quite strong enough. They’d made a miscalculation in a time of poor mental state and woke up the next day to hear that not all of the HYDRA agents had died either. At least the survivors had been taken in for the time being but that just wasn’t enough for them; they’d had a right to be concerned too because HYDRA had a habit of getting themselves out of sticky situations. This case was no different. 

[Y/N] most likely felt responsible for having a hand in HYDRA’s dirty work, for not doing more, and they must have felt even more responsible when they learned that HYDRA was a much bigger problem than they could have ever imagined.

First blurted, “Well, what happened next?”

Second answered, “They went after agents until they got caught, the only way they knew how.”

The second miscalculation that they’d ever made got them caught. The agent put a gun to [Y/N]’s head and pulled the trigger.

“So are they dead too?” First asked. The voice seemed to quiver.

The third voice hemmed and hawed a bit before saying, “They must have, with the way all this weirdness had been going. Oh my god, poor Wanda, not one dead partner but two—”

Second spoke over the other two voices’ rambling, forcing them to calm down and listen. “They didn’t die, though, they—”

The voices started cutting out like the dream was a TV program being interfered by a poor connection and static.

“—Found by—Barely alive—Hospital—Braindead—Westview—Find a doct—”

Suddenly gunshots sounded, one followed by several more, and the darkness cracked and shattered, revealing blinding light behind it. A silhouette walked silently through the wall of light; it was Geraldine—no, Monica—poised with a gun in the outfit she helped deliver Maximoff twins in. As she walked forward, crossing from a plane of burning white to one of void black, the image of her warped and distorted until it changed. Monica, looking much more modern, in a uniform that included a bulletproof vest and a lanyard with S.W.O.R.D. printed at the top, moving carefully towards a broken and bleeding body on the ground with another in a heap behind her. The image distorted and changed again, and the first body was sitting on their knees and looking up defiant defeat. The person they were looking at was no longer Monica but a bulky figure in a dark outfit with straps in the form of an H across their chest, the body that had been laying in a battered pile behind Monica just a moment earlier. The H-adorned assailant held a still-raised gun to the kneeling person’s forehead.

[Y/N] could only spit at their feet before another gunshot sounded and the image disappeared to black.

You woke up sweating and choking on your breath. Your brain, throbbing with a pain that shot through it like a bullet, didn’t register fast enough that you were standing instead of laying down so when you flailed, you threw yourself off balance and fell forward. Catching a quick glimpse of your surroundings on your way down told you that you were somewhere outside and that it was the dead of night. You tried last minute to brace yourself for a concrete-laden impact.

    You were instead greeted with soft fabric and arms wrapping tightly around you.

    “Goodness, [Y/N], are you quite alright?”

    You squinted at the striped sleepwear for a moment before looking up where Vision’s worried gaze and whirling irises were waiting for you; it took your eyes a moment to fully focus as the pain in your head faded but left a faint ringing behind. Then you looked around at your surroundings; not only were you outside but you were standing in Vision and Wanda’s driveway. Your gaze settled on a particular section of the house’s exterior where you vividly remembered a vaguely human shape exploding out of its walls. 

    You were standing in the exact same place you had been when it happened.

    “[Y/N]?” Vision said again, drawing your attention back to him.

    “Oh, cosmo, I’m sorry,” you said but your throat was too dry and you had to stop and clear your throat halfway through. Being in Vision’s arms, you were keenly aware of the fact that you were both in your bedwear and that yours had been sweated through. You slumped against him, partially to hide your embarrassed face but also because you felt like you hadn’t slept at all.

    “Vis?”

    “Yes, my favorite teacup?”

    You snorted softly at that. “You don’t even drink tea.”

    “Oh, I know,” Vision lilted back. Then he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I do like the patterns and the daintiness of them though.”

    That time you laughed a bit. Feeling his warm breath against your scalp and his strong arms holding you safely in place against him, you almost instantly melted into the embrace. You wrapped your own arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. “What are we doing outside?”

    “Ah, yes, about that. You appeared to be sleepwalking again.”

    You groaned. “Again? This is a nightmare.”

    One of Vision’s hands moved to run itself through your hair and down your neck. “That accident you had the other day certainly did a number on you.”

    The accident. In other words, that time where you walked off in the middle of a conversation with Vision, Agnes, and Herb to mumble at a wall and then faceplant onto the sidewalk. Not only was your nose still recovering but your mind and dignity as well.

    “The only time I’ve slept well since is when I fell asleep on your couch,” you whined. Then you lowered your voice and grumbled into Vision’s chest.

    Vision chuckled. “What was that?”

    You looked up at him and scowled. “The four of you are over here in your stupid, big, warm, cozy house. Meanwhile, I’m across the way, alone and uncomfortable, with only Bernard to keep me company. Bernard’s terrible company.”

    “Truly,” Vision agreed, grinning slightly. He loved your strange, cute, not at all challenging struggles.

    The both of you turned to give the lawn ornament in question a pointed look. Bernard seemed to glower back.

    “Well,” Vision said as he pulled away from you a bit, “why don’t you come inside then? Wanda’s up with the babies anyway. You might as well join us, especially if it means you’ll be able to sleep better.” Not taking no for an answer, the synthezoid was already tugging you towards the lit-up porch.

    You were too tired to argue and, quite frankly, you didn’t want to, so you allowed yourself to be pulled along as you admired the soft cotton of Vision’s matching pajama set.

    “Oh, my.”

    “What?” You looked at Vision’s face again only to catch him staring at a spot above your eyes. The porch light glinted off the gem embedded in his own. “What, do I have something on my face?”

    “No,” Vision responded slowly, “but you must have done something to it. You have quite the scar.”

    Your eyebrows raised. You moved away from him to look at your reflection in one of the windows and surely enough, you had a raised scar on your forehead, near your hairline. You gingerly pressed your fingers against it; it certainly wasn’t new.

    A seemingly random thought popped into your head. Is that… a scar from a bullet?

    “What on earth did you do to yourself?” Vision asked. Him walking up to stand directly behind you and press his hands to your neck, under the collar of your shirt no less, was more than a little distracting. “You’ve got one back here too.”

    You reached back to where Vision was touching and when he removed his fingers, you could feel a similar scar at the base of your neck.

    You thought again, Bullet… exit wound…? 

    Something about the dream you were having earlier called out to you but you couldn’t remember anything about it. When you tried to think about it further, the excruciating pain came back in waves and you had to steady yourself on the windowsill to prevent yourself from collapsing.

    “Huh,” you said instead, “I have no idea.”

    “They don’t hurt?” Vision questioned. “They’re not just… odd raised bruises perhaps? Welts maybe?”

    “No, I don’t think so. They don’t hurt at all, though.” To make a point, you pressed down hard on the raised scar on your forehead, watched the skin turn a few shades lighter before releasing the pressure and dropping your hand again. Under the thick, stiff tissue, you barely felt the pressure at all.

    Vision thoughtfully hummed, placing his hands back on the curves of your neck; you prayed to whatever deities existed that you didn’t make any sounds you’d regret.

    “Well,” your partner said, “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

    A pause. Your eyes stayed trained on the window’s reflection, specifically where you could see Vision’s fingers gently cupping your neck.

    Then he abruptly leaned down and pressed a kiss on the scar tissue, missing a pulse point by a hair. “We should head inside then.”

    You had to take a solid minute to recover from the shockwave of tingles that briefly made your veins turn into lightning. Then you shuffled after Vision into the ever so inviting house.

    Stepping out of chilly darkness and into a home of cozy furniture and warm light that turned the entire place a golden brown felt like walking into another world. An extra added layer of comfort to the usually perfect home was the slight disarray of baby equipment almost everywhere that wasn’t the floor itself, most of which you had gone out and bought during the babies’ day of birth and all of which Vision and Wanda appreciated; somehow, you had prepared for the babies’ accelerated growing on a panicked whim better than the Maximoffs. Tiny baby blankets and stuffed animals were strewn about and each visible part of the house—the living room, the dining area, and the kitchen, although the kitchen was partially blocked off by a drying rack of baby clothes and swaddles of various patterns and sizes—had a designated Baby Tray. These trays, perched on whatever flat surface had been previously free of decor or clutter, held bottles, nonperishable treats, diaper-changing equipment, teething toys, a mini first aid kit for each, and other useful trinkets; the new parents had apparently completely forgotten that almost all their house’s rooms were openly attached to each other and that, if one singular Baby Tray was designated to the dining area, it would take the same amount of about five steps to get to it from either the living area or the kitchen. It was almost comedic, the number of baby care items that were laying anywhere but the floor or in proper storage because, according to Vision, god forbid something gets a speck of dust on it and have to be washed or, according to Wanda, one of the babies be without their favorite toys easily accessible at every given moment. The only thing allowed to touch the ground, aside from feet, was a playpen that now replaced the usual coffee table in the living room area and a play mat in the babies’ room with its attached toys for the twins to play with. A final touch to the hominess was the soft light that you could see streaming out of the baby room’s open door, and the gentle voice of Wanda, singing a Sokovian lullaby, fluttering out of it. 

    It felt like coming home.

    Vision stepped away from your side to clean up somewhat, picking up a few toys and folding baby blankets and onesies to move them aside in case you wanted to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Standing inside now, you could much better make out Vision’s dark blue terry robe over a pair of bright yellow pajama pants that no doubt had a shirt to match hidden beneath dark blue fabric. The yellow of his pants matched the yellow gem that was embedded in his forehead, glittering with an unused power that you had yet to experience and that felt warm whenever you went to place a kiss on it. Poking out from the hems of his robe and pants were perfectly human hands and feet, despite their deep red color that matched the rest of his body; you found the continued presence of fingernails when not in his human disguise—absolutely unnecessary to his design, he’d pointed out when you initially asked about them—weirdly cute and continuously felt the urge to grab nail polish and paint them to match either the color of the gem or the same silver as the plating that started at his scalp and trailed down beneath the collar of his shirt. You briefly wondered how far that plating traveled across his body before mentally kicking yourself.

    The greatest thing about this still-fresh reveal of Vision’s inhuman identity—aside from the fact that he was no longer hiding something important from you, obviously—was that you now knew that he wasn’t just difficult to make blush but rather he quite literally couldn’t blush. You wondered what else he could and couldn’t do, only to mentally kick yourself again. 

    I can’t tell if I’ve gotten worse or better since I’ve started dating them, you thought.

    Oh, your brain responded on its own accord, so much worse. 

    Shhh!

    Vision was still puttering why while you stared and inwardly argued with yourself. At this point, he’d cleaned up most of the chaos and moved the stuffed animals and now-folded blankies to sit neatly on the dining area table.

    “Vis,” you said.

    Before you could continue, the man perked up and looked in your direction. “Yes, duck?”

    You blinked. “You make my heart go rainbow-colored. Anyway—” You broke off into a laugh when Vision went flustered, his hands flapping about while he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did I win this round?”

    Sometimes Vision got into the habit of ending all of his sentences around you and Wanda with a pet name. When you had first noticed this feat, you’d decided to start doing the same, just to see what would happen. He noticed and began purposely doing it back, where he had previously done it unintentionally, and now doing the occasional back-and-forth conversation that ended in pet names more than punctuation was somewhat of a competition between you two. 

    Vision scoffed at you, picked up a plushie, and tossed it at you. “Not fair!”

    Being in the house that was beginning to feel more like home than your own, around your partners and their sweet baby boys, seemed to shield and reenergize you from the exhaustion you felt after first waking up that night. You caught the stuffed animal, a plushie of a wizard, grinned and tossed it back at him. 

    “Oh,” Vision chirped, catching the plush wizard again, “I see how it is.” He puffed out his chest and gave you a warning, albeit amused, glare, then picked up a couple more plushes. In a lower, sort of growling voice that made your heart leap out of your chest and into your stomach, he continued, “If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you shall get.”

    You yelped as he started in your direction and dived across the front of the couch to get some stuffed animal ammo of your own. He nailed you in the foot with a cream-colored bunny and you returned the favor with a plushie of a witch in a red dress after taking cover behind the playpen. Now each of you was standing where the other had previously been, with you poking your head over the playpen’s sheer wall and Vision slowly pacing around the back of the couch for his second lap. You pulled the playpen with you with one hand as you moved away from him and the two of you began circling each other. 

    Oh, if Wanda could see her partners now.

    “Oh, Wanda—” you started to stand, only to get smacked in the face with a blue teddy bear; luckily, it was of the very soft variety. You stared at Vision in disbelief.

    Vision stared back, eyes bulging, unsure of whether he should apologize or prepare for an attack. He was too torn to do either, though, and had to scramble back to avoid an onslaught of stuffed bullets flying his way.

    Still aware that it was very late at night, your war-cry was softened, “Revenge!”

    Then your attack quickly diminished, partially because you were running out of ammo and Vision wasn’t throwing anything back and partially because Vision was now floating off the ground and heading towards you, arms full of said ammo.

    Wow, didn’t know it did that, you thought randomly, eyes fixed Vision floating in general, before specifically fixating on the devilish grin he wore while doing so. He looked like a very handsome, well, vision.

    A handsome Vision, if you will, your brain offered. You almost snorted before remembering you had not yet moved to avoid Vision’s floating plushie attack. You stumbled backward and scrambled out of the living room just as Vision started throwing.

    “No no no no no nonononono—” You were choking between laughter and squawking as you got up and began running down the hallway to save yourself. “Not fair, not fair not fair, not fair—!”

    You ran past the baby room and caught Wanda mid-turnaround, saying, “What on earth is going on out there?” You reeled back to pause in the doorway, caught a glimpse of the babies in their one large crib, smiled, went to pant out an answer—

    Only to feel arms wrap around you and drag you back down the hallway. You started to shriek, then forced it into a startled laugh as to not disturb the babies, and flailed around in Vision’s arms as he lifted you off the ground. It was brief, though, because then your struggling caught Vision off balance and the two you tumbled to the ground. There, you both harmlessly pummeled each other until you both were out of breath and snickering, and you somehow ended up with his top half under you but his legs pinning down your own.

    “You can fly?” you bubbled. You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks in your hands. “What the hell?”

    He laughed and nodded, and one of his hands caught your own. He glanced up at you as he kissed your palm and replied, “Yes, just a little.”

    “Just a little—”

    “And his wife can move things with her mind, like the crib she just finished rocking to put the boys back to sleep, and if she has to do it again because of her partners’ roughhousing…”

    You and Vision quickly disentangled yourselves from each other and looked up at Wanda, whose face said serious but whose eyes twinkled with amusement and who looked no less terrifying in a pale pink, puff-sleeved nightgown.

    You got up and straightened your clothes, with Vision following closely behind. “I will very happily take over the next shift because I started it and I’m very sorry.” 

    “What? Nonsense, [Y/N], I threw the first stuffed animal.”

    “I threw it back,” you pointed out.

    “Neither of you better have thrown and hit something,” Wanda warned.

    You glanced at Vision for confirmation; you didn’t exactly see much when you were chucking plushies aplenty and then running from your flying boyfriend.

    Vision nodded. “Nothing at all, although I did make the evaluation that we do have a plethora of plushies and baby blankets.”

    “I thought I was the one who pointed that out when you first gave me the shopping list, but okay,” you huffed under your breath, then grinned with Vision lightly bumped you with his hip. “So, the babies having a bad night?”

    “Actually, they were apparently worried about you,” Wanda said.

    That made your head do a confused tilt. “Me?”

    “Ah, yes,” Vision nodded, “We fell asleep with them in the living room and Billy started crying. We woke up to figure out what was wrong and Wanda saw you standing outside.”

    Wanda added, “Tommy started crying shortly after I walked to the door with him like he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

    “Aww,” you cooed, peering over Wanda’s shoulder to see the babies. She stepped to the side so you could walk in and shuffle over to the crib, and she and Vision stood nearby as you crouched down to brush a hand over their little sleeping heads. You continued, much softer this time, “Were the boys trying to make sure I was safe? Are they my little protectors? My little superheroes?”

    Tommy gurgled happily in his sleep. Billy remained quiet but his head leaned into your hand.

    You looked up at their parents with big, awestruck eyes to see them leaning comfortably into each other, watching you with the same level of affection you felt for them and their babies.

    “Heroes indeed,” Vision said. He walked over as you stood up again and lightly rocked the crib; Wanda strolled over to join the group. He continued to the twins in baby-talk, “But no hero-ing until after college, my little honeydews. For now, leave the protecting to your parents.” 

    “Especially this one,” Wanda chirped, making her way over to your side and slipping her arm around your back. “They’re a handful.”

    You faked a gasp, “I’m a treasure.”

    “You’re a putz,” Wanda said simply, with a smirk and a light pinch to your hip.

    You gasped harder and stared at her with utter betrayal.

    “A goof,” Vision chimed in. He slipped his own arm around you, the final piece of your three-person puzzle.

    You gasped harder still— and almost choked on air. Then you looked to the babies. “Bullies! Bullies, both of them! Billy, Tommy, you must protect me!”

    Very enthusiastically, neither baby did anything. 

    “I’ve been betrayed yet again,” you cried, not too loudly, though. You slumped against Vision and Wanda’s waiting arms. “Betrayed by my own brood!”

    “Your brood?” Wanda questioned, quirking a brow. Vision was giggling softly at your other side.

    “Yes,” you whispered, looking at her with wide, distraught eyes, “My brood. My pack. My murder.”

    “Your what?” Vision said.

    “It’s a group of crows,” you explained under your breath, before slumping down farther and continuing your distraught monologue. “I’m all alone! Oh, the horror—”

    “Well,” Wanda said, “We’re supporting you very well a family that has completely abandoned you.”

    You flopped your head back in her direction. You were so far to the ground now that you were practically on your knees, only your arms and shoulders being held by Wanda and Vision. You traced fingers lamely across each of their arms. “So strong, those who once held me…”

    The married couple exchanged an amused but mysterious look.

    “Wanda, darling,” Vision said, “They seem to have gone delusional.”

    Wanda nodded sagely in response. “Clearly lost their mind.”

    You squinted, glancing between them. What were they up to?

    “To the ward with you,” Wanda suddenly announced.

    Then you caught a red glow by your feet, but not fast enough before you were swept up into the air on a cloud of red mist. You burst into startled laughter but quickly slapped a hand over your mouth so you didn’t wake up the children. Once you relaxed—enough to stop laughing anyway, not enough to not be freaking out about being magically escorted out of the nursery—you waved your hands through the red; it felt like waving your hands through the open air. The only thing actually felt was the pressure on the back of your body that was holding you afloat and carrying you out of the room, but when you tried to balance on it and move to a different position, all you did was squirm and twist awkwardly in the air before flopping back down. You craned your neck, mostly to make sure Tommy and Billy hadn’t woken up from your outburst, but you only caught Wanda, hands glowing red, following you out of the room and Vision trailing after wishing his babies a goodnight.

    You looked back at the ceiling for a moment. After you heard the nursery door shut, you asked at a normal volume, “I’m not gonna fall, right?”

    “Not unless I let you,” Wanda reassured you. You couldn’t see her but the teasing tone of her voice made you imagine her with a smirk. A smirk, narrowed eyes, her pretty nightgown floating around her, magical powers that she could definitely use to crush you if she wanted to and you’d probably thank her if she did.

    Wow, okay, I either need to confess my sins or go to sleep.

    “Why?” Wanda asked suddenly.

    “Why what?” you choked back, heat rushing to your face. Surely, she couldn’t read your thoughts…

    “Why ask if you would fall?”

    Oh.

    “Oh.” You started flopping around in the cloud of magic, testing the proverbial waters; you were being taken to the living area now. You heard both Wanda and her husband laughing from beneath and behind you when you settled again. 

    Vision asked through chuckling, “What could you possibly be doing?”   

    You suddenly flung yourself to one of the magic surrounding you, thinking maybe you would fall through, but the magic held. You huffed and laid back again but not before you caught a glimpse of the couch that you now hovered over. You grasped at the magic again, watching it wisp through your fingers but feeling nothing at all. “This is so cool.”

    Wanda’s voice was softer when she spoke this time. “You think?”

    You couldn’t hold back the disbelieving laughter that bubbled up. Suddenly breathless out of sheer excitement of learning more about the people you cared for most, you sighed, “Wanda, baby, you must know that you’re amazing.”

    Then you squawked as the magic suddenly disappeared around you, but instead of falling straight to the couch below, Vision flew up to catch you. He held you bridal style as he gently dropped back to his feet next to the couch, grinning—he very rarely just smiled, it was always a big, happy grin when it was directed at you or Wanda or the babies—and giving you a peck on the forehead when you stared up at him, doe-eyed.

    “Got my own Superman, too,” you said, “Damn.”

    Vision plopped you down on the couch. “Who?”

    “Comic book character,” you responded with a wave of your hand, “Doesn’t matter. You’re far better looking than him anyway.”

You shifted a bit to get more comfortable and watched as glowing red magic started swirling all around you. The magic was misty, red around the edges and glowing orange-white in the center, picking up the scattered toys from your and Vision’s scuffle and tossing them into the playpen, pulling said playpen out of the way and sliding the original coffee table back from its place against the wall, picking up any other stray blankets or baby items and placing them neatly out of the way; it also straightened out Vision’s robe and ruffled your hair. Part of the magic moved out of your line of vision, so you twisted to follow it and saw it taking the baby clothes off the drying rack to fold and put on the counter next to it, then continued watching as it folded the rack itself and moved it out of the way. 

Wanda was now in your sight again too; she was standing still, palms up with magic flowing outward from the red clouds around them, and looking around to see if there was anything else she needed to put away. She was also blushing, from you calling her baby or saying she’s amazing, you couldn’t tell. After staring for probably way too long, probably looking at her with the same starry-eyed, dopey look that a teenager had at their first concert or after a first kiss, her gaze flitted to yours and made a nose-scrunching face at you before finishing her magical cleanup and making her way over to the couch as well.

You slumped back in the pile of throw pillows behind you, covered your face with your hands, and flutter-kicked your feet few times. “This is so cool!”

    You felt a nudge at your feet and you raised your legs so he could sit, then did the same with your head when you felt Wanda’s hand brush across your forehead. When they were both seated, you laid your legs and head on their respective laps and the three of you settled into the comfortable position that had been adopted long after your relationship had started. 

    That is until you quickly sat up again. “Is that how you unpacked your house so quickly?”

    Wanda smiled and nodded. She rested a cheek in the palm of her hand, endeared by your wonderment towards her powers.

    “Is that you unpacked my house?”

    Another nod. 

    “And the magic show was real— Wait.” You scowled. “But all the pulleys and stuff.”

    “That was, ah, my bad,” Vision offered with a raised hand. 

    “Covering for him actually using his powers,” Wanda explained.

    “I knew the mirrors didn’t make sense with you putting your hat through your body!” you exclaimed. “So flight, super strong, and… not sure what to call that last one. What was with you that day, by the way? You acted drunk, but you can’t get drunk!”

    “I swallowed some gum,” Vision muttered, glancing away and rubbing the side of his neck. His other hand waved towards his torso as he continued, “It got all… stuck. Gummed up my gears, if you will.”

    Wanda rolled her eyes at the pun. You snickered at it.

    “I had to magic it out of him,” she added.

    Your gaze flitted back and forth between your two superhuman partners multiple times as you took in the information. Because you were sitting between the two, this involved the turning of your head various times, which made your head swim a bit. You almost wished that they were both sitting to one side of you.

    Instead of suggesting this, you settled your gaze to stare aimlessly ahead and said simply, “I’m dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar people in the world. How the hell did I manage that?”

    “Charisma,” Vision offered, even though you and him both knew at this point how you’d weirdly creeped on him at the office the first day the two of you met.

    “Sheer force of will,” Wanda suggested, but you guaranteed she was remembering how, for the few dates you went on with them, you’d had to be reminded that you were actually on dates and that they weren’t just casual friendly hangouts. 

    You looked between them once more and then you wished you had suggested they sit to one side of you. Despite their steady, comfortable voices, Wanda was in the process of hiding her flustered face behind the curtain of her hair and Vision was chewing on his lip and couldn’t seem to keep his hands and feet from tapping away.

    “Okay,” you said after a moment, patting your thighs to do something with your hands. “I’m grasping that you guys don’t agree with me here. Wanda, go sit by him so I don’t get whiplash from trying to look at you both.”

    You and Wanda quickly switched places. You sat cross-legged on the couch to face them and Wanda and Vision shifted around to sit in a way that allowed them to face you without one blocking the other. After a moment, you waved your hands at them; the cheery air has since faded into something more somber. “What is it? Tell me why you get all quiet like that when I tell you, with evidence, why you’re the actual grooviest people I’ve ever met.”

    There were a few more moments of silence before Vision went to speak first, which surprised Wanda. She looked at him, eyebrows raised high on her forehead, and lightly grasped his wrist.

    “Vis?” she murmured.

    He sighed softly and placed his other hand over hers. “Oh, it’s really nothing dear, I promise. It’s just… Well, you’ve heard how the people of the cul-de-sac talk about us sometimes.”

    “Mean girls,” you grumbled under your breath with a nod, “the lot of them sometimes.”

    Wanda seemed to suddenly sag with sadness and both you and Vision reached over quickly to hold her.

    “Oh, darling,” Vision said, “It’s not your fault—”

    “That’s not true,” Wanda whispered.

    “It is true,” Vision said, and this time he said it with a fierceness that was familiar to you, whenever Wanda was being treated poorly by people like the Queen of the Cul-de-Sac, Dotty, or when Wanda decided to get down on herself. He grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezed them until she looked up at him. “Wanda, darling, love, I didn’t exist before I meant you. I mean, I did, of course, I did, but I was just this strange, non-human, non-machine thing that was just… kind of… there. It was you that gave me an existence, Wanda. You made me human.”

    Both you and Wanda stared at him, surprised. Wanda stared because she obviously didn’t fully agree with his opinion of her. You stared because of course, you were dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar, and most romantic people ever. 

    Get yourself a man like that, you thought. Then after a moment, Wait, that is in fact also my man. 

    “And you—” Vision said, turning his head in your direction.

    “Oh, I’m next?” you stammered. “I thought it was Wanda’s turn.”

    Vision still held Wanda but also reached over to tightly grasp your hand and bring it to his mouth. “I just wished we could have confessed to you sooner. I just hate, hate, hated lying to you and now you’re involved with all this too—”

    The synthezoid with the English accent looked up at you with eyes begging forgiveness as if he’d committed one of the worst sins imaginable. You let out a hoarse laugh and ran your thumb across the side of his hand.

    “I’m sorry,” you said, still chuckling as you wriggled closer to your couple, “but as much as you might like to think you’ve subjected me to something I didn’t sign up for, I’d like to point out that I’ve been about a month ahead of you. I was here before you.” You felt a nagging urge to look at Wanda and repeat the last sentence, and there was something extra special about saying it that second time like there was a double and then a triple meaning behind it, but the way you both furrowed your brows afterward made it clear that neither of you really knew what those meanings were.

    Not yet, anyway.

    You cleared your throat and removed your hand from Vision’s grasp to place it on the back of the couch. “I moved into this town with no husband or wife, no family, nothing but a pile of letters and a new deed to a new house that happened to be the smallest in the neighborhood. My first week here I told one man in front of the entire night watch that I thought the joke he made about his wife was distasteful, and then the week after I tripped and spilled wine all over his wife. Agnes brought because she thought I’d be a form of entertainment and we somehow ended up becoming friends over a flask that she hid in a pocket sewed into the inside of her skirt.” You offered a look to Wanda again while you mentioned that Agnes never thought your “for the children” jokes were all that funny, though. “I’ve dealt with the comments and the rumors and the ‘what’s wrong with them, they don’t have no kids!’ People are weird and they’re mean and they’re fun and they suck. You want human, dude? You got it. If I was still bothered by comments that are nothing but a bummer, I think I’d be trying a little bit more than wearing clothes that I enjoy over the clothes that are expected of me, telling Dotty she needs to stop being awful before she gets frown lines, or, you know, pining over two people—a married couple nonetheless—until I somehow seduced them with my staring at them from around corners and just generally horrible, awful attempts at eye contact.”

    The married couple in question chortled at that.

    You used your hand on the back of the couch to hoist yourself up on your knees so you towered over Vision just slightly.

    “Here’s the thing, sunshine,” you continued, “I’m not in your boat on this one, you dorks, you’re in mine. I was here first and I don’t give a fuck.”

    Wanda gave a sudden laugh. “What language.”

    “Has he not told you about the time I said ‘Fuck you’ to a plastic bird in my garden?” you asked. “Multiple times? His name is Bernard and he’s plotting to kill me, I swear.”

    Wanda’s troubled expression was split by a wobbly smile.

    You threw up your arms in the dramatic fashion that you knew the two people in front of you loved and hollered—then quickly quieted back down to not disturb Billy and Tommy in the other room—“All this for my rambling putz ass to say, who cares about what’s outside this house! You two, and your kids, and I are the only people that matter here. Here being the house, Westview, whatever! Everyone else? Nonexistent.

    “Also, just to clarify,” you paused to wave your arms around, gesturing at the entire house, “Love it here. Love this shit.”

    You suddenly caught Vision’s slacked jaw in your hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. “This face? Love it.” You moved to peck a spot of silver on his skull. “Love this too.” You pecked the gem on his forehead and swore it glowed brighter in response. “Love this.” You pecked one of his ear plates. “Love these goofy things.” You pecked the tip of his nose. “Love this and the fact that you have it even though you don’t technically even need to breathe. Oh, speaking of which!” 

You lifted one of his hands with one of your own and tapped on his red fingernails with your other. You caught a glimpse of his face now that yours wasn’t directly in front of it and noticed him trying to hold back a giddy smile—and failing—while he watched you from underneath red lashes; your whole body would have tried to twist itself in knots under that look if you weren’t too busy swearing to kiss those eyelids and lashes too, at another time. Instead, you pecked each fingertip of the hand you were holding. “Love these ‘useless to my design’ things too. You know what, just speaking of hands—” You dropped Vision’s hand, which made itself to your waist as you went to grab Wanda’s; you were vaguely aware that you were practically leaning into their laps at that point but that could be dealt with when you weren’t trying to make a point.

When you went to touch her, she let you hold her wrist but quickly squeezed her hand into firsts before you could hold it like you had with Vision’s. She was looking away.

    You pressed a kiss to her whitening knuckles. “Wanda.”

    She looked at you, her perfect face distorted by a deep sadness that almost shattered your heart on the spot. She tightened her first further. The deep emotion appeared to make her slip back into her natural Sokovian accent when she spoke again. “You don’t know the pain it’s caused.”

    “I’ve done my fair share,” you affirmed even though you weren’t quite sure why. Then you kissed her knuckles again. “And maybe I don’t, but I know what good it’s caused, that you have.”

    Her face twisted into an ugly grimace. She asked hoarsely, “Like what?”

    “The first time I saw your face, I wanted to go to space, grab the moon, shrink it down—so it looked like one of those cool little lava rocks, you know? But prettier—and get it put on a ring,” you offered, then kissed the back of her hand and whispered, “and that’s after I found out you were married to a very attractive man too…”

    Vision snorted. Wanda cracked the smallest of smiles.

    You whispered lower, “And I may or may not have even been interested in marriage before that…”

    That time Wanda rolled her eyes; you smiled and grabbed her other clenched hand to share the attention with. You continued, “You’re also so nice, like so nice. You are so kind and care about what people think so much, it’s almost buggy—and bordering on self-destructive but that’s not what we’re talking about— And I sort of get it now, you know, but wow, making your magic show worse for the sake of people’s sanity? Wouldn’t even be on my radar.”

    Another little smile.

    “I’d be like, ‘Who wants to see me turn this entire table into a rosebush! Dotty’s rosebush specifically; Dotty, I stole your rosebush.’ I actually did steal a rose from her bush that day.”

    Wanda blinked and you noticed the lines of her expression weren’t as deeply etched into her face anymore.

    “That was Dotty’s?”

    You grinned and nodded, then kissed both of her hands. “Also, I love your hair and the way it perfectly frames your perfect face, and I love your little nose scrunches, and I love your eyelashes and the way you look at me from under them sometimes, and I’d kiss all those things but I’m not going to because I gotta get these stubborn, always-working, never-wanna-take-a-break, always-somehow-perfect-nails-having hands to relax before they hurt themselves even though it’s very clearly hard enough to make who woman who owns them do the same. Oh, I did I mention that smile—hoo, Wanda, that foxy smile…”

    Wanda was blushing now and bringing up her smile made it happen again, just slightly. You took advantage of the moment anyway and flung yourself back onto the couch with a hand over your heart. “Be still, my pounding heart!”

    Vision, who was watching by your and Wanda’s sides, laughed a bit. Wanda herself rolled her eyes again; the smile didn’t disappear afterward.

    You sat up again and pointed at Vision, now that he’d brought attention to himself again. “And I don’t know whether you heard any of the stuff this guy said! You made him exist? You made him human? What? You two also do this thing where you just look at each other and have a whole conversation, I don’t know if you guys know you do that or not. You do, though, and I don’t know if either or both of you are psychic but if you are and still love me? With my unhinged brain? Migraines and all? I wouldn’t understand, even if you explained it to me.”

    Vision offered, “Neither of us is psychic but anyway, please continue.”

    “Have anything to add?”

    “You’re doing wonderfully.”

    “Thank you.” You looked back and Wanda, noting that her face had almost completely softened now, as she was too busy being flustered to be sad at this point. You quickly scooped her hands before they could curl into fists again placed kissed on each of the crescent moon-shaped marks now dug into their palms. “Your magic rocked your babies to sleep. Your magic cleaned up all their and put it all in one nice, neat place. You floated me around the house with your magic and even protected me from falling when I was wriggling around up there; bet that was fun for both of you to watch. Vision said earlier that that was your job, to protect me, and while I don’t fully agree because I consider it the other way around, is that not what you did?”

    “I thought it was cute,” Wanda replied softly to the second to last sentence you said. She watched as you gave her hands a few more pecks.

    “So, you agree then,” you said, “that your magic protected me and also made me cuter?”

    She laughed and the sound made your heart soared, performing an aerial performance in your chest. She tried to wriggle her hands free from you but then you scowled and tucked them protectively under your chin.

    “Gotta say it. Gotta say your magic made me cute.”

    “I’m not saying that.”

    You shrugged and got comfy, laying your head in her lap with her hands still hidden. “Have to. Otherwise, no hands for you. Oh, did I not mention how good you are to your kids yet? You’re so good—”

    “Okay, okay, okay,” Wanda forfeited through a wet laugh. Hearing said laugh, your head shot up in concern, but the woman was smiling as she snagged your hands back; what she chose to do with them next was grab your face and place a kiss directly on your mouth.

    It was quick and soft and sweet and absolutely none of that prevented the fireworks that went off in your skull and your chest and your stomach and your veins that made tingles shoot all the way down to your toes. She pulled away as quickly as she had moved in and you blinked; your brain was still short-circuiting, like a robot—like a Vision with his gears all gummed up, and your dazed brain thought that was a very funny connection, so it repeated the joke verbally.

    Luckily, Vision was close enough to the level of dork that you were and he laughed at it with you.

    It took a deep breath and a head shake to de-gum your brain—if only Wanda could magic that—but after the excitement wore off, you felt sleepiness start creeping in and decided to make your final push. You curled a hand around both of your partners’ necks and brought their faces closer to nuzzle your noses together; they responded by each of them wrapping an arm around your waist and returning the affectionate action.

    “So, in conclusion,” you stated, which caused Vision to laugh lightly and Wanda to grin just slightly, “I love both of these perfect faces.” You kissed each of their noses. “And these funky, magical brains.” You kissed Wanda at the base of her hairline, then Vision just below his forehead gem. “And these equally funky, magical hands.” You grabbed the hands not looped around your waist and kissed the back of them. “And both of those babies, and this house, and y—”

    You sucked in a sudden breath to stop yourself so hard that you almost choked and you reeled back to the other side of the couch only to drag Vision and Wanda with you. The three of you tumbled into a flustered heap on the couch and over their shoulders, you could see early morning light filtering through the windows. This barely registered, though, as you were too busy focusing on the fact that you almost L-worded them on a silly, tired whim. 

    Despite the awkwardness of the moment and the unspoken words, no one made a move to remove themselves from the warm, cozy entanglement. One of both Wanda and Vision’s arms was pinned under your back, keeping them solid in place against you while simultaneously and successfully enveloping you in between them; your own arms, which had instinctively wrapped protectively around their shoulders in the tumble, kept them in a similar state. Wanda’s hair fanned found and covered the three of you like a blanket, and you were keenly aware of her breath softly wafting over the exposed skin of your neck from where her head now rested on your shoulder. Vision’s rested slightly lower, on your chest, and you felt a quickened pulse where his gem pressed into your neck, but you couldn’t be sure whether it was yours or his. 

    You stared past their shoulders and watched as sunlight shone through the curtains and dappled the ceiling. You tried to figure out whether you were stupider for stopping yourself from finishing that sentence or for not saying it at all.

    Then you felt a kiss being pressed to your clothed shoulder.

    “You’ve said so many things that you’ve loved tonight [Y/N],” Wanda murmured, her hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “What’s two more?”

    “I—” you started, then bit your tongue again. There was something about saying that phrase that made you worried; you felt like if you said it now, the happy little world you lived in would begin to crumble, like it would all end far too soon. You sighed softly and said instead, “I don’t know how I would live without you.”

    There were a few moments of silence where you watched more sunlight filter in and wished you could take it back because what a way to talk a big game and then not follow through—

    Then Vision’s head appeared above you and he pressed a dizziness-inducing kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose with his own as he murmured, “I love you too.”

    In almost the same moment, Wanda was mumbling the same phrase against your jawline. 

    Sleepy and hazy-brained you couldn’t do much else but stare at Vision like a lovesick puppy that struggled to say that L-word, then snuggle back down with both him and Wanda when they relaxed against you again. That seemed to be the last of what needed to be said, though, because everything was cozy and warm and golden brown in your home again and, one by one, the three of you fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

    In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, you heard the vaguely familiar First Voice finish chewing something and then go, “Aww…”

[danceworshipper]

Chiva Twins' Hogwarts Storyline

(On a separate post from their profiles because tumblr sucks)

Pre Hogwarts:

- Gracie and Tessa's paternal grandmother took care of the twins a lot while they were little, after she moved to England to be closer to her only son. She had a beautiful garden in her backyard where they would spend the day, and she cooked the best angel hair spaghetti Gracie has ever had. Unfortunately, she died when the twins were seven

- They got Ruby when Gracie and Tessa were eight. She was supposed to be put down after she got away from her previous owner and attacked a muggle, but Clarissa heard about it, stole her from the shelter, paid a heavy fine, and then kept her

- For a couple years after their grandmother died, the family would spend the month of July in Germany with the extended Chiva family, which is how Gracie and Rosalie became such good friends

- Rosalie's allure started to kick in when she was eleven and Gracie was about to be ten, though it was weak. It didn't affect Tessa (or any other girl, for that matter) so Gracie pretended she couldn't feel it until it became too much. This was her first indication that she was attracted to girls, which she ignored

- The year Vance vanished was miserable. He was expelled in January, and disappeared in February. Gracie and Tessa were almost forbidden from attending Hogwarts, but Jason convinced Clarissa to let them go

First Year:

- Rowan and Liz were the twins' first friends, but Rowan quickly favored Gracie and Liz Tessa

- Gracie and Tessa figured out their Legilimency, but they couldn't control it. Snape gave them lessons and Gracie progressed faster than Tessa, causing a slight rift in their relationship

- Other than the canon events, the only notable thing from first year was the curse, obviously

- Gracie and Tessa were alone in the hallway leading to the Slytherin Common Room, and the next thing they knew, Gracie was frozen on the floor and Tessa had fainted

- Their memories were removed, but a member of R had been trying to catch them alone for months

- He hit Gracie with three experimental curses: one to change her appearance in an attempt to ostracize her, one to cause the crazes that had the side effect of causing her to be immune to mind altering spells and poisons, and one to try and bind her mind to R, which didn't work - it bound her to her wand instead (he accidentally said "magic" and not "magic group")

- Tessa tried to stop him, but the man shoved her into the wall and gave her a concussion, which she fainted from

- Gracie wasn't able to fight back because he froze her

- Felix found them when he went to do his Prefect rounds. It was the only time they have ever seen him panicked and crying

- The twins immediately stopped bickering about who was better, because they didn't want to die on bad terms and apparently their Hogwarts career was going to be dangerous

- Tessa blames herself so hard. She's certain if she hadn't stopped to tie her shoe, they would have been just missed by their attacker

- Dumbledore analyzed Gracie and only discovered the wand connection and the immunity. There were no signs of the crazes at that point

- Clarissa flipped her shit when she found out - she broke Dumbledore's arm because she blamed him for someone breaking into the castle

- Tessa started trying to be the perfect daughter in order to redeem her family. Clarissa told her she didn't need to, but Tessa kept trying to be exactly what her maternal grandparents would want her to be. She started learning to cook and bake, though she had previously had no interest in it, and worked on her singing

- The twins were locked in the house over the summer. Jason started working later hours, and Clarissa received a strongly worded letter from her family about how two of her children were disgraces. Clarissa firecalled her mother and screamed because it wasn't Gracie's fault. It was one of the only times she ever stood up to her family

Second Year:

- The twins started developing depression

- Tessa started early Care of Magical Creatures lessons and properly met Barnaby

- Gracie had her first craze. None happened over the summer because the curse wasn't able to turn her against her family at first, but she did slip away from her family to buy a pocket knife because she felt drawn to it

- The craze happened during dinner. Gracie was so overwhelmed by the urge to take her pocket knife and plunge it into Rowan's chest that she ran out of the Great Hall. The knife was in her hand before she had been able to realize what was happening

- Rowan chased after her to help her come down, and the next few times, Rowan would study the circumstances and what exactly Gracie was feeling the urge to do

- They decided that the more Gracie cares about someone, the more likely a craze was to target them

- Nothing really triggered a craze, but they usually occurred when Gracie was excited or in some other high emotion

- Neither of them thought it would be a good idea to tell anyone else. The crazes were pretty mild and easy to break out of then, so they didn't want to worry anyone

- Even when not in a craze, Gracie's instinctive responses were quicker to violence than before

- Tessa noticed that Gracie was acting weird, but couldn't get anything out of her

- Gracie joined the Potions Club after some pushing from Penny

- Tessa joined the Quidditch team

- She quickly hated Skye, and became friends with Ravenclaw's star player Erika Rath, who helped her with both her gameplay and her methods of keeping Skye in check

- Canon events occurred

- A group of (unturned) werewolves attacked a student in their year, and Tessa hurried to make sure she was okay

- Chiara pushed her away

- When Tessa kept trying to talk, Chiara revealed that she herself is a werewolf and had been giving her potions away

- She was terrified of hurting people the next full moon

- Tessa, though not yet an Animagus, stayed outside with her to help her through it, climbing up into a tree in an undignified way to stay safe

- She and Chiara stayed friends

- Merula joined the Frog Choir and started practicing in the dorms. Gracie wondered why she got a little breathless while listening

- The summer after second year, Gracie accidentally witnessed Jason murder an old family friend. The next time Gracie went to visit his office, she turned him in to his partner Thomas and let him extract her memories to use as evidence. Jason was arrested immediately and Clarissa was legally separated within the week. Tessa refused to believe her father would do something like that

- The twins didn't have a party for their birthday that year

Third Year:

- Gracie realized her crush on Merula

- She figured out that she's bi. She doesn't hide it, but she doesn't offer the information up. She did formally come out to Tessa, who could easily say that she didn't care and she would always lover her sister

- Tessa and Barnaby started dating. Gracie hated it

- She could admit that Barnaby is cute and nice, but she couldn't get over how stupid he is and constantly told Tessa that she could do better. Tessa fully ignored her

- Throughout the year Gracie was forced to spend more time with him, and eventually admitted that he's stupid, but not in the important ways

- Tessa and Barnaby had a very awkward first kiss, and don't try again for a month

- Canon events occurred

- While in the vault Gracie spotted a small note on the floor. The note was from Olivia, prompting Gracie's research into her brother's friend. Tessa wasn't as interested in Olivia as her sister

- Tessa got attacked by the worst of the boggarts. She had a hard time differentiating between the boggarts and the real Gracie, who had to hold her and repeat that she loves her for Tessa to calm down

- This is the year that Rowan encouraged Gracie to go through with a craze just once, so Gracie cut her initials into Rowan's neck

- Gracie couldn't look at Rowan all day after she did it, but Rowan kept telling her that it's okay because they'll be best friends forever and the scars weren't even that noticeable

- Gracie became obsessed with the sight of blood

- In August, Clarissa told them that an old school friend of hers would be staying with them for a little while, because her husband tragically died from an unnoticed illness. Gracie and Tessa recognized the code for "my friend killed her husband because he was an abusive dickhead" and avoided Margaret while she was there

- Over the summer, Tessa met Kyle and he helped her decide to stop fighting the vaults for her own good

- Tessa told Gracie that she was done with the vaults, terrified that Gracie would think less of her. Gracie didn't outwardly react much, but Tessa could feel her disappointment

Fourth Year:

- Blah blah canon stuff

- Gracie and Tessa became Animagi with the help of McGonagall. The professor had hoped it would distract them enough from the vaults that they wouldn't get involved (fail)

- Rowan and Gracie fought for the role of Prefect. Snape picked Rowan, obviously, but Tessa can't figure out why Gracie even tried in the first place

- Barnaby asked Tessa to the ball

- They went and enjoyed themselves but realized they didn't want to date anymore and broke it off while there

- Gracie asked Merula to the Celestial Ball

- They went and had a great time

- One week later, Merula asked Gracie out properly

- Awkwardness ensued

- They became an official couple, and Tessa started teasing Gracue about her poor choice in romantic interests

- Clarissa figured them out over the summer when Gracie started talking about Merula the same way Tessa used to talk about Barnaby

- The twins expected their mother to be upset, but Clarissa only poured herself a large glass of wine and remarked that Merula better be smarter than "that worthless boy your sister thankfully dumped"

- Gracie finally realized why Margaret was still living with them, but Tessa did not. She was more offended by Clarissa calling Barnaby worthless

- Merula is invited over for dinner, which she initially refused. Eventually she agreed and though the whole dinner is awkward, she and Gracie got to go out to the town and have fun after. They had their first kiss in one of the shops after Gracie bought Merula a stuffed panda

- Tessa went and hung out with Kyle and some of his muggle friends that night

Fifth Year:

- During detention, Gracie and Jae became really close friends, to the point that Merula threatened Jae. He responded that he's much more into guys and she had nothing to worry about

- Merula forced Gracie and Ismelda to spend a day together because she wanted her girlfriend and best friend to get along. It was awkward, but they no longer avoid each other like the plague after that

- Tessa barely ever saw her sister between the detention and all the happenings with the vaults. It hurt more than she was willing to admit

- Gracie grilled Duncan for information about Olivia, but he didn't know anything from after he died

- Rakepick forced Gracie to cast the Cruciatus Curse on someone in Diagon Alley. Gracie hated how easily the spell came to her, and how excited it made her feel. She also despised how proud Rakepick looked

- Merula offered to teach Gracie the Killing Curse. Gracie wanted to refuse, but her morbid curiosity got the best of her and she learned it, vowing to only use it in an emergency

- Gracie and Merula gave each other their virginity

- In the Portrait Vault, Gracie lost her mind watching Rakepick torture Merula and hit her with the Cruciatus Curse, and nearly the Killing Curse. Bill, Penny, and Tessa were so upset that she almost became a murderer that Gracie blamed it on adrenaline. Charlie didn't accuse her, saying he might have done the same thing if Rakepick had targeted Bill instead. Merula was proud of her, and Ismelda found a new respect for her

- Gracie was mildly concerned about it, as it wasn't a craze, but she couldn't make herself care enough

- Vance barely recognized Gracie when she freed him, but seeing the necklace made him believe that it was really her

- He ran before seeing Tessa, and Gracie cursed his name for months

- Upon learning all of this information, Tessa focused on Gracie almost becoming a murderer, but was actually most upset about Vance not caring enough to visit her. She smashed the picture she had of him and the twins, and was so upset she had to spend the night in Gracie's bed with her, which they hadn't done since they were little

- The twins had a sleepover with their best friends (Rowan and Liz) for their birthday, while Clarissa was away on vacation with Margaret. Gracie wanted to have Merula sleep over too but Clarissa firmly said no

- Tessa and Liz watched muggle movies and ate way too much popcorn while Gracie and Rowan spent the night outside, under the stars

Sixth Year (so far):

- After overhearing an angry firecall between her mother and her grandparents, Tessa offered to be put into a contract marriage to try and appease them. Clarissa flipped her shit and said no way

- Only then did Tessa figure out why Margaret still lived with them

- When Gracie found out about it she also flipped her shit, unable to understand why Tessa would ever be willing to go through that

- As the curses got worse Tessa attempted to figure out some information about the vaults, but her friends didn't want to tell her much

- Gracie's anxiety worsened, which caused her misophonia (irrational fear response to certain noises) to worsen as well. Badeea took pity on her and invented a spell to temporarily deafen her, which she used constantly in class. Tessa also got some use out of it, though she didn't need it as often

- Erika reminded Tessa to focus in Quidditch, since it was Erika's last year and if Tessa wanted to win the Quidditch cup again she'd have to try extra hard

- Tessa tried to reconnect with Gracie as she got more and more down, but Gracie continued to shove her away

- Madam Pomfrey got petrified and Tessa started helping Chiara out with some basic medical duties. Gracie threw most of her remaining caution to the wind to try and stop the curse

- Gracie's depression reached new heights and Rowan had to physically drag her out of bed most mornings. Tessa again tried to reach out, but Gracie wouldn't let her, terrified by the thought of Tessa being in any way in danger

- Rakepick attempted to kill Ben in the Forest, but Rowan, who had been hiding, shot a stunner at her which gave them enough time to regroup

- The exchange students, Alanza and River, arrived, and Dumbledore made Tessa their guide. She immediately didn't like Alanza, but River intrigued her

- As Tessa gets closer to River, she finds out he's a vampire, but her fear does nothing to deter the quickly developing crush

To be continued

[cypher-of-the-night]

Information about Subaoki Kids~

Mun!Yuki: Okay so I’m just going to be like “Fuck it. I’m showing them now.” Let me introduce you my new grandchildren. :D I don’t have proper bios of them but I can always show what they are like here.

Let’s start off with the oldest to youngest.

~

Ichiru Sakamaki (逆巻 一縷; Sakamaki Ichiru)

Age: 14 (Pre-Timeskip) -> 18 (Post-Timeskip)

Birthday: September 5th

Height: 160 cm (5’3") -> 177 cm (5’10”)

Weight: 53 kg (119 Ibs) -> 67 kg (147 Ibs)

Occupation: Next heir to the throne, Model, 3rd year High School Student (Post-Timeskip)

Seiyū: Yoshitsugu Matsuoka ( Akashi Saginuma from M3: Sono Kuroki Haagen ) (Talking / Singing)

English Voice: Daman Mills ( Varma from Taboo Taboo ) (Talking)

Personality:

Very similar to his father, Ichiru is a silent loner that is quick-tempered and is capable of causing a lot of damage, such as breaking things, even if it is accidental; However, he can also be sweet due to the influence of his mother, whom he loves very much, very similar to how his father loved his own mother. He is said to be a tsundere like his father, which he often denies. However, he is not a DO-S (extreme sadist) like his father; Due to the damages he caused when he was much younger, Naoki taught him to not damage things when throwing fits by teaching him many ways to calm himself whenever he is angered; Eventually, Ichiru chose to vent out his feelings by writing out his feelings in a private journal in the garden (very much like his mother when she is writing lyrics to her raps). Not wanting to make his mother worried whenever his father damages things, Ichiru is the one that often fixes it, which he later finds as a hobby.

Like his mother, Ichiru loves food to a point of eating anything, and like his father, He dislikes nothing when it comes to food. Very much like his mother, He has a disinterest in studying despite holding higher-than-average intelligence. Like Naoki, Ichiru has a golden heart, and is strong-willed and honest (but in his case, it’s brutal honesty). And also like her, He is understanding, caring, hardworking, and helpful. Despite his tsundere personality, Ichiru was taught to be a gentleman to women; Very similar to his mother, Ichiru is eccentric and is highly curious, to a point of having a strange way of thinking.

Despite admiring his father, Ichiru calls him “Old man” and snarls whenever someone comments about him being similar to him. This is due to the fact of learning about his mother’s time with Subaru when she was still human, and became protective of her as a result; This has caused a rivalry between Ichiru himself and his own father. Regardless, it is revealed by Naoki that Ichiru truly does love his father, but he’s just very stubborn to admit it due to his own pride, like his father.

~

Trivia:

• Just as Tsundere as his father; But still has a kind heart like his mother.

• As the oldest, He often scolds his sister and the damages she causes; However, the dismissiveness for the scoldings resembles their father’s dismissiveness of the scoldings he received from their Uncle Reiji.

• Because He is to be next-in-line for the throne, Ichiru is has to keep his composure and restrain himself from losing his cool; Even resorts to healthier ways suggested by his mother on how to calm himself down.

• At the age of 14, Ichiru was scouted to work as a model; While he initially plan to decline, Ichiru accepted in order to make money for himself without having to rely on his parents financially, especially his father, the Vampire King.

• While he inherited his father’s strength, Ichiru doesn’t take advantage of it due to not inheriting any destructive traits or tendencies.

• Despite his father and sister being left-handed and his mother right-handed, Ichiru is ambidextrous.

• Despite inheriting his black hair from his mother, Naoki herself attests that he inherit most of his looks from Subaru due to an incident where she witnessed Subaru’s hair dyed black from an incident involving an octopus ink.

However there was one incident that happened to Ichiru where his hair was bleached for a whole month because of his sister; Ichiru looked exactly like his father to a point where even Naoki can attest that they would’ve looked like twins.

• In Naoki’s HDB Brute Ending, only Ichiru was born through her becoming mentally broken from Subaru’s sexual assault; Where a cycle begins where an insane Naoki starts failing to differentiate between people, mistaking Ichiru as Subaru himself due to him sharing the same face as him, and, as a result, deemed him as “filthy”, despite loving and doting him when not mad; Very much like the relationship between Christa and Subaru himself and how Christa becomes mentally broken because of Karlheinz.

~

Tsukika Sakamaki (逆巻 月下; Sakamaki Tsukika)

Age: 12 (Pre-Timeskip) -> 16 (Post-Timeskip)

Birthday: June 8th

Height: 149 cm (4'11") -> 158 cm (5’2”)

Weight: 49 kg (108 Ib)

Occupation: Idol, 1st year High School Student (Post-Timeskip)

Seiyū: Taeko Kawata ( Amy Rose from the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise ) (Talking / Singing)

English Voice: Amanda Lee ( Zero from Grimoire of Zero ) (Talking / Singing)

Personality:

While she inherited her mother’s bubbly cheerfulness, Tsukika inherited her father’s strength and tendencies to break things near her, including walls; However, this is mainly whenever she is happy and excited, as there has only been a very few times she has ever used her strength in anger and/or intentionally; Due to this, her older brother, Ichiru, always has to clean up after her and often scolds her for the damages she caused, which she prefers to ignore; The same way Subaru ignores Reiji whenever he is being scolded. Unlike her mother, Tsukika isn’t exactly smart when it comes to school work no matter how hard she tries as she only barely passes, very much like her father. Tsukika is rather girly, sometimes boy-crazy/girl-crazy (not often taken seriously), and fashionable, and is just as extroverted as her mother.

When annoyed, Tsukika shows to have also inherit her father’s temper, but shows it in a tranquil fury way just like Asher when he is angered. While she is temperamental and stubborn in private, Tsukika, as an idol, presents herself to the public as an fragile, air-headed star. Due to watching Kou’s performance as an idol, Tsukika wanted to become an idol when she reached of age. While it was difficult to handle at first, She admittedly enjoyed performing as she loved to sing and dance; This is something she inherited from her mother with rap music. As an idol, Tsukika is very cautious about using her strength in public and to keep herself in-character as a normal girl.

However, unlike her brother, Tsukika has Do-S tendencies due to her vampiric nature that she fully embraces, to a point where she has taken advantage of using her strength and her looks to do as she pleases, and feels no remorse in the things she does. Her victims would always be obsessive stalkers that happen to be cute to Tsukika, Men or women, and would often be broken down and tortured into mindless dolls by Tsukika, by shattering their pure image of her and themselves feel disgusting. On the full moon, She becomes a seductive temptress, turning from a playful flirt that often jokes around to a shameless flirt that has no shame for doing the things she does. Tsukika holds the belief that she would rather embrace her vampiric nature than to suppress it like her brother does, as she takes pride in being a vampire and doesn’t see any reason to hold back who she is behind closed doors; Alas, she would be forced to keep her activities secret to keep her job as an idol and her pure image from being tainted.

~

Trivia:

• By timeskip, Tsukika is not a virgin as she has had sex with her victims once she got older.

• Despite her history of sexual activities, she has never genuinely been in love before; But it is hinted that, when she does genuinely fall in love, she becomes rather yandere-ish. (Very much like Satou Matsuzaka from Happy Sugar Life)

• She has a crush on Rini (by @adiabolikpastel), as Rini is her first real friend; As a result, she genuinely cares for her and is heavily clingy/overprotective of her. It is implied that she established a secret fanclub for her in which Tsukika herself is the leader of.

• Tsukika has an immense love for cute things and sweets to a point her room is filled pastel colors and colorful plushies and a mini-fridge containing her sweets.

• Tsukika has a soft spots for animals, and even has memories of herself as a child being surrounded by animals with her father.

• Tsukika’s real name is “Měi-Rén”/“美人”, meaning “Beautiful Person”.

Tsukika’s name comes from the two first characters of “月下美人” (Gekka Bijin) or "Beauty under the Moon", which is what the Queen of the Night is known as in Japan for its rich history.

• Tsukika admits that Kou was the one that inspired her to become an idol herself. She even declares him her favorite uncle, despite the fact that he is not related to either of her parents by blood.

• Tsukika is actually pansexual and demiromantic.

• While She has a good relationship with her mother, Tsukika loves her father and cherishes the times she spends with him as a child; As much as she wishes to spend more time with him, she understands him being busy as the new Vampire King. Although, it could be said that, while having Naoki’s eyes, Subaru gets reminded of his mother due to the physical resemblance Tsukika has with her.

~

Images used for references:

Ichiru -> 1/2

Tsukika -> 1/2

[seriestrash]

The List - Chapter Five

- 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Summary: It’s summer vacation and TJ and Cyrus fill their days checking things of Cyrus’ list.

Read on AO3

Chapter Five: Overnight  - PART ONE

Word Count: 3892

It’s been two days since Cyrus' impromptu rollerskating lesson with TJ and Walker. Today Cyrus is spending some quality time with his dad and stepmother whilst TJ is occupied with some of his basketball friends. 

Cyrus is currently out to lunch with his parents at some fancy vegan restaurant even though none of them embrace that lifestyle full-time. Cyrus is poking at the chickpeas in his salad when his phone buzzes. Normally his parents would scold this but his father and stepmother were too engaged in their own conversation to notice him pull his cell out of his pocket.

Cyrus’ smile widens when he sees it’s a text message from TJ. 

Cyrus laughs quietly to himself at TJ’s broken heart emoji reply. 

“What’s got you so happy?” Sharon coaxes her head with a raised brow. 

“Nothing.” Cyrus says defensively, “It’s just TJ.” 

“Oh, TJ,” Sharon bops her head, “He’s the tall one you’ve been spending time with?”

“Yep.” Cyrus laughs nervously and he’s not entirely sure why. “He’s babysitting his brother and sister tonight and asked if I wanted to stay over. Is that okay?” 

“A sleepover?” Cyrus’ father, Norman poses it like a question, “You haven’t had a sleepover with a friend since the girls were little.” 

“Thanks for the reminder, dad.” Cyrus mumbles to himself and he reflects on the time he became aware that boy/girl sleepovers were not considered normal and it ultimately making him feel like the odd one out in their friendship. 

“Well I don’t see why not.” Norman nods with a smile, “You be sure to thank his parents when you see them and extend the same offer to TJ. I can’t speak for your mom and Todd but I’m sure he’s just as welcome at their house anytime.” 

Cyrus finishes up with his parents and goes home to pack an overnight bag before Sharon gives him a lift to TJ’s apartment building. 

Cyrus had been here before, depending on what they were doing for the day it was quicker for Cyrus to walk by TJ’s apartment first when leaving from - or going home to - his mom’s house but it was a bit further from his dad’s. Although he’d been here before Cyrus had never actually been inside which wasn’t too odd to Cyrus because TJ had only popped inside Cyrus’ house a couple times when hanging out, to use the bathroom or grab a drink quickly before they moved on to whatever activity they had planned next. 

Although they had gotten comfortable with each other over the end of the school year and a lot closer in the first few weeks of summer the two had never had a sleepover before and it was making Cyrus anxious. He hadn’t had a sleepover - other than the occasional cousin sleepover during family gatherings -  since he was 10 years old and even back then it was with his two female best friends. Cyrus didn’t know what to expect from a boys night, especially since he knew he didn’t favour a lot of ‘typical’ male interests. This was evident at how out of place Cyrus could feel when trying to impress Jonah. 

Cyrus stands out front of the building and texts TJ to let him know he’s waiting downstairs but after a few minutes pass and his text goes unanswered, Cyrus steps up to the intercom and calls the room listed under Kippen. 

A woman Cyrus assumes is TJ’s mother answers, Cyrus had never actually met TJ’s parents despite TJ having met all four of his at either his bash mitzvah or in passing during one of the times they’ve hung out over the summer. 

Cyrus makes his way up to the second floor and wraps his knuckles on the door that reads ‘2A’.  A little girl answers, Cyrus knows this to be TJ’s little sister as he had seen TJ tagged in a photo with his younger siblings on facebook. 

“Hi, I’m Cyrus.” He smiles at her, “TJ’s friend.” 

“Katie, you’re not supposed to answer the door.” A woman comes jogging into view. 

“You said he could come up.” She refers to the intercom call. 

“You’re still not supposed to open the door.” She says firmly and Cyrus sensed the woman was a little frazzled over something. “Now go tell you brother, Cyrus is here.” 

With a pout she runs off down the hall. TJ’s mother turns to Cyrus with a wide smile and introduces herself as Tess before leading him towards the kitchen. She’s speaking quickly as they walk but Cyrus managed to decipher what she was talking about. Tess was expressing how it was nice to finally meet Cyrus after hearing so much about him, especially over the summer. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Kippen.” Cyrus returns the sentiment politely. 

“It’s Ms. and Tess is just fine thank you.” She corrects kindly. 

Cyrus smiles and nods. He didn’t know TJ’s parent’s weren't together but after thinking about it for a moment Cyrus realised TJ didn’t talk about his family much at all and when he did, he didn’t talk about his father ever. 

“Sorry I’m in a bit of a rush to get ready for work.” Tess apologises. 

“That’s alright.” Cyrus hovers by as she flits around the kitchen and he was quietly hoping TJ would surface soon. 

“Junior!” Tess calls out for TJ and Cyrus lets the faintest laugh escape before he stifles it quickly. “He’s always got his headphones on.” Tess turns to Cyrus with a sigh. 

Katie skips into the kitchen and Tess gives her attention to the young girl, “Katie I thought I asked you to get TJ?” 

“You told me to tell my brother Cyrus is here, so I told Cooper.” She laughs devilishly and Cyrus cracks a smile at this. 

“Take Cyrus to TJ’s room please,” Tess lets out a deflated breath. 

Katie grabs Cyrus’ hand and drags him down the hall, the gesture made Cyrus’ heart ache with cuteness overload. 

Katie barges into TJ’s room without knocking and Cyrus is dragged along in the process. 

“Teej, your friend is here!” Katie says loudly and she drops her hold of Cyrus’ hand. 

A very surprised TJ flicks the headphones off his ears and stops whatever he was doing at his desk. “Cyrus?”

Cyrus is confused by the sight for a second, TJ was at his desk, a mess of loose papers scattered across it, rounded glasses perched up high on the bridge of his nose. All Cyrus can respond with is, “You wear glasses?” 

“No.” TJ sheepishly plucks them from his face and throws them at the desk.

“He does.” Katie says and TJ tells her to scram. 

“There’s nothing wrong with wearing glasses.” Cyrus says once they’re alone, “I just had no idea you wore them.” 

“That’s because I wear contacts in public.” TJ mumbles. 

Cyrus picks up the frames from TJ’s desk and holds them close to his eyes, the blurred vision it gave Cyrus was like an instant headache, “Oh my god.” Cyrus chuckles as he puts them back down, “Can you even see right now without these?” He laughs. 

TJ folds his arms like an embarrassed child. Even though TJ knew Cyrus wasn’t making fun of him, he was still shy about it. “You got here quickly.” 

“It’s been two hours since you texted me.” Cyrus states. 

“Really?” TJ looks at the time on his phone and his missed text from Cyrus earlier pops up.

“Your mom let me up.” Cyrus smiles. 

“Sorry, I guess I got caught up with my studying.” TJ apologises. 

“Studying in summer?” Cyrus questions. 

“I see a special tutor once a week for my dyscalculia, it’s supposed to help me catch up before school starts again.” TJ is sheepish. 

Cyrus smiles encouragingly and he genuinely felt proud that TJ was working with his learning disability rather than fighting against it. 

“You can put your bag down wherever,” TJ stands from his desk chair.

Cyrus drops his overnight bag from his shoulder and places it by the bunkbed in the room. 

“I have to share a room with Cooper since Katie’s going to be a girl one day and want her privacy.” TJ rolls his eyes. 

“She’s not a girl now?” Cyrus looks confused. 

“She’s 7 and still wants to hang around her brothers all the time.” TJ laughs, “She didn’t even want to stop sharing a room with Coop but mom says she’ll change her mind soon enough.” 

“If it’s anything like Buffy and Andi, she’ll be about 10.” Cyrus says mindlessly as he looks around TJ’s room, taking in the surroundings. “That’s when their parents got weird about our friendship.” Cyrus’ gaze lands back on TJ. 

“I know it’s kinda small but we can hang in the living room tonight once the twins go to bed.” TJ smiles weakly. He was doing that thing where you talk down what you have because you’re embarrassed and Cyrus didn’t like that very much at all. 

“I like it.” Cyrus says with a smile. It was a small room with a single bunkbed pressed against one wall, a desk on the other side of the room by the door and a bookshelf opposite the closet. The little details were what caught Cyrus’ eye. The mesh of TJ’s stuff with Cooper’s. Some were immediately easier to differentiate and others not so much. Like the sports memorabilia, Cyrus assumed it belonged to TJ, along with the shelf of trophies and ribbons from basketball and other athletic accomplishments whilst a few scattered toys seemed to belong to Cooper. It was a few comic and science themed things that didn’t immediately make sense to Cyrus. 

“Teej.” Tess’s voice bellows from the kitchen and TJ motions for them to go find out what she wants. 

Once in the kitchen the two boys plant themselves on a bench stool each and Tess announces that she’s leaving. Cyrus immediately notices the scrubs she’s changed into. It makes Cyrus remember something TJ had said casually in conversation about his mother being a nurse. 

“You know the drill, if you go out the kids go with you, no further than the park and in before sun down.” Tess looks to TJ. 

“Yes mom, I know.” TJ nods. 

“And lights out by 8.” Tess gently wiggles her finger in front of her sons face, “Last night you kept them both up after 10.” 

“Which on of them ratted on me?” TJ glares. 

“Neither of them had to. They both slept in later than me and I’m the one working overnights.” Tess gives him a knowing look. “Now, I left money for pizza in the top drawer and there is a few extra dollars for one side.”

“Got it.” TJ nods and watches his mother flit about the room in a rush, “You’re running late you better hurry.”

“Keys?” Tess looks to him as she pats her non existent pockets. 

"Vegetable drawer in the fridge.” TJ says casually although Cyrus understandably registers this as odd. 

“Katie.” Tess says with a sigh as she retrieves her car keys from exactly where TJ said they’d be. 

“She likes to hide things,” TJ turns to Cyrus with an explanation, “I saw her put them in there after lunch.” 

Cyrus lets out a quiet chuckle and a few questions about that came to mind, like for starters, why? Also, why didn’t TJ take them out if he saw her put them there?

“Oh, and remember to sort out your dirty laundry,” Tess says as she slings her handbag over her shoulder, “I’ve been asking for two days now, Junior!”

“Mom.” TJ lets out an embarrassed grumble. 

“Sorry, Teej.” Tess smiles sympathetically. 

“Want to embarrass me anymore in front of my friend or are you ready to go to work now?” TJ tries to fake being angry at his mom but his efforts are fooled with a sweet smile. 

Tess challenges TJ’s remark and gives him a big smooch on the cheek. Immediately TJ wipes at where she marked him. 

“And take a shower, you smell terrible.” Tess says with a crinkled nose. 

“Mom!” TJ gives her a look, this time he wasn't smiling. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Tess laughs, “Cyrus, it was lovely to meet you, sorry I’m such a hurry.” 

“That’s alright Ms- Uh- Tess,” Cyrus corrects himself with a smile, “Have a nice night at work.” 

Tess finally leaves after popping her head into the living room to say see you later to the twins. 

“She’s such a mess when she gets called in for extra shifts.” TJ shakes his head with a chuckle. He stands from his stool and goes to the fridge. 

"I like her,” Cyrus says positively, “With my accident prone ways I think having a nurse for a parent would be far more beneficial than four shrink parents,” Cyrus half jokes, “All that does is make me think I’m crazy.” 

TJ closes the fridge with a quiet chuckle. “I bet it makes you analyse other people a lot too.” 

Cyrus tosses his head from side to side, “True.. but I’m almost never right with my assumptions.” 

“Scary basketball guy.” TJ motions to himself before he retrieves two glasses from an overhead cupboard and proceeds to pour them both a juice. 

“Exactly.” Cyrus laughs softly.

“Oh and for the record,” TJ pushes one glass towards Cyrus, “ ‘Junior’, doesn’t leave this room. I hate when my mom calls me that.” 

Cyrus bites down on a smile, “It’s funny because of how tall you are.” Cyrus chuckles. “I mean I knew the ‘J’ in your name stood for Junior but you don’t look like a Junior to me. It doesn’t fit.”

“How’d you know it stood for that?” TJ questions. 

“I found it in the yearbook.” Cyrus recalls stumbling upon it when searching for Buffy’s crush. 

TJ lets out a groan. “I forgot they put my full name in there.”  

“Now ‘Teej’ on the other hand,” Cyrus takes a sip from his glass, “I like that a lot more, I’m going to start using it.” 

TJ crinkles his nose at Cyrus’ affirmation although he does not protest against it. 

“So I was looking at the list earlier and I thought of a few things we could check off it.” TJ says after skulling his entire glass of juice in one go.

“Tonight?” Cyrus questions. 

“Yeah, why not be productive with this babysitting session,” TJ laughs. “It’ll be fun.” 

“Okay, what tasks?” Cyrus asks. 

“Make a basket, watch a scary movie and stay up for 24 hours.” TJ lists. 

Cyrus curls his facial expression into pure dread. “That doesn’t sound fun.” 

“Too bad.” TJ does his signature pout and smirk combo, “You’ve been avoiding ‘make a basket’ since I added it to the list last week.”

“Yeah but wasn’t laser tag so much more fun instead?” Cyrus deflects. 

“It was pretty fun,” TJ admits but he shakes his head and returns to his point, “There is a court behind the building, I say we go now whilst it’s still light out.”

Reluctantly Cyrus agrees and TJ goes to the living room to round up his siblings. 

“Come on we’re going down to the court.” TJ instructs. 

Katie happily jumps up from her place on the sofa whilst Cooper seemed even more reluctant about the idea than Cyrus. 

“Do I have to come?” Cooper mumbles and it was evident he was uncomfortable around Cyrus.

“Last time I went downstairs and left you up here alone you set the kitchen on fire and mom grounded me for a week.” TJ folds his arms. 

“I didn’t mean to.” Cooper says quietly and admits defeat quickly. Cooper leaves to get a book to take down and TJ leans into Cyrus to make sure his brother didn’t hear him when he explained that Cooper was really shy. 

After TJ retrieves a basketball, the four make their way downstairs and out onto the small court behind TJ’s apartment building, it was late afternoon but there is still plenty of sun left for the day. Katie and Cooper sit on a bench seat by the court together whilst TJ takes the lead with this active task from the list. 

TJ playfully dribbles the ball around Cyrus and makes a basket whilst Cyrus turns his body to follow TJ and remains firm that his ability on the court was embarrassing. 

“You make it look so easy.” Cyrus folds his arms as TJ retrieves the ball, “I hate that.” 

TJ pretends to hand the ball to Cyrus but turns quickly and makes another shot instead. 

“Now you’re just showing off.” Cyrus glares. 

“I was already showing off before.” TJ shrugs with a smirk. 

“Okay we get it, you’re the basketball guy,” Cyrus waves his hands about, “Now are you going to teach me or what?” 

“Yes Sir.” TJ laughs at Cyrus’ mood swing. 

TJ uses his basketball captain ways to teach Cyrus a little technique with his stance and hold of the ball before moving on to tips for the actual throw itself. 

Cyrus fails a few times, they’re horrible attempts at first but he did manage to get a little better. Although he was getting better, TJ could tell Cyrus lacked enthusiasm about this particular task. Even though he was not enthusiastic, the boys still had their usual amount of fun with it. 

Cyrus breaks his failed attempts to show TJ how he likes to shoot basketballs, where he stands under the net and throws it up but it comes back down and smacks him in the face. 

“Underdog are you okay?” TJ winces and jogs over to his friend. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” Cyrus gently rubs his nose where the ball collided, “I don’t even throw the ball hard enough to injure myself.” 

“You make not being hurt sound like a bad thing.” 

“At least I’d know then that I was making progress.” Cyrus sighs. 

“You are making progress.” TJ assures as he slaps a hand to Cyrus’ shoulder, “You’ve got it this time, I can feel it.” TJ says as he picks up the ball and hands it to Cyrus. “Deep breath, I believe in you.” 

“Do I have to?” Cyrus pouts. 

“Last try for the day, I promise.” TJ says, “If you don’t make this one we’ll try again another day.” 

Cyrus is doubtful but takes the ball and goes to the free throw line. If failing one more time was all he had to do to stop for the day, then he might as well get it over with. 

Cyrus pauses and looks to TJ who has gone over with the twins. Katie seemed enthralled in his efforts whilst Cooper didn’t lift his gaze from his book. TJ holds Cyrus’ eye contact and nods encouragingly. 

Cyrus holds the ball out in front of himself and takes a deep breath. You got this...

“You can do it, Cyrus!” Katie cheers encouragingly and Cyrus sends her a thankful smile before turning his attention back to the hoop.

With another deep breath, Cyrus moves himself into position like TJ had showed him. Then he counts back from three in his head and throws the ball. Cyrus watches as it effortlessly falls through the hoop.

“Can we go inside no-” Cyrus stops once he processes what just happened. 

Katie is squealing with glee and TJ has a huge grin plastered on his face whilst his arms are thrown up in the air excitedly. Even Cooper wore a hint of an impressed expression on his face. 

“Did I just?” Cyrus turns to TJ. 

“You did it!” TJ rushes over to him. 

“I did it.” Cyrus laughs in disbelief. 

After a moment of celebration TJ jokingly suggests they play a little one on one.

“I wanna play!” Katie is with them and she jumps up and down. 

“You two can play, I need to quit whilst I’m ahead.” Cyrus laughs. 

“Boo!” Katie whines and TJ mimics with a cute ‘boo’ of his own. 

“Fine,” Cyrus gives in quickly, “But we’re going to need someone else to play so we’re even teams.” 

The three standing on the court turn their gazes to Cooper who is looking at them with confusion. 

“No way.” Cooper mumbles almost too quiet for them to hear from where they stand. 

“Come on, Coop, it’ll be fun.” TJ says. 

“Yeah, Coop, please?” Katie begs. 

“You can be on my team.” Cyrus smiles, “I know that’s an unconvincing argument but I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Cyrus covers his mouth on the side closest to TJ, as if he were actually telling a secret but he speaks at his usual volume, “TJ lets me win a lot.” 

“I do not!” TJ says defensively. 

“You do so,” Cyrus laughs, “You think it will make me feel better about sucking at everything.” 

“You don’t suck at everything, you just don’t even try sometimes.” TJ folds his arms. 

"You still let me win to boost my confidence.” Cyrus smiles. 

“Well I’m certainly not going easy on you with this game.” TJ states. “Winner gets to choose the side we order for dinner.” 

“Oo, high stakes!” Cyrus wriggles his brows as he turns back to Cooper, “What do you say?” 

Cooper still looks a little reluctant but agrees with a quiet sigh. Once they’re all ready to play TJ declares that the first to three wins. 

A goofy game gets underway and plenty of standard rules were broken, one of them was the way Katie just runs with the ball. At one point Cyrus noticed TJ purposely fumble his catch so Cooper could get a go with the ball. The two older boys exchange a look after this, Cyrus’ was knowing like he was right about TJ letting them win and TJ just innocently shrugs and pretends like he didnt know why Cyrus was looking at him.  

Once Katie gets the ball again, TJ picks her up and sits her on his shoulders so she can make a basket. 

“That’s cheating!” Cooper exclaims, by this point in the game he had loosened up. 

“Nu-uh,” TJ says in a childish way. “This is no rules basketball!” 

Cyrus looks like they’ve been dealt a great injustice before realising he can cleverly use this to his advantage, “If I spin around three times really fast and touch my toes that’s worth infinity points and ends the game early.” Cyrus does just as he mentioned and excitedly exclaims, “Game over we win!” Cyrus turns to Cooper excitedly with a high-five. 

“You’re no fun.” TJ laughs and Katie, still on TJ’s shoulders folds her arms in a huff. 

“No, I’m just smarter and evidently a better basketball player.” Cyrus jokes and he stretches down to touch his toes again. “Double infinity points to us.” 

TJ rolls his eyes with a smile, “Okay kids lets hit the showers,” TJ claps his hands together and points up towards their building.

TJ looks to Cyrus with a smile slowly creeping wider on his face. Cyrus coaxes his head with a sigh as he anticipated what TJ was about to say next. 

“I’ll race ya!” TJ bounces on his toes before quickly racing towards the building, Katie and Coop following his fast lead. 

“Stop making me run all the time!” Cyrus whines as he lags behind the Kippen kids. 

[Next Chapter]

End Notes: Thanks to everyone who left me comments on the last chapter! This story is being so positively received and it’s sooo lovely for me! Thank you so much!

[totaltozier]

Just Another Day: Chapter 2 - Stranger Things/IT Richie&Mike Twins AU

NOTES: Here it is! Chapter 2! I love writing this fic so thank you for all the positive feedback!! This chapter is sort of a filler but I left you all with a nice cliffhanger! Also if you haven’t noticed, this takes place in modern day but still holds the same events from season 1 and 2! Mike Hanlon is in this chapter but they all call him Mikey to differentiate from the two Mikes! Also, the title is from the song Just Another Day by Oingo Boingo! 

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

Happy New Year Everyone!

Mike’s hand flew to El’s as soon as the high-pitched alarm started blaring. Their eyes met at the contact, her normally bright eyes washed over grey in fear. He squeezed her hand in reassurance before scanning around at his friends to make sure they were making their way out of the building.

“Guys let’s go!” He shouted. The whole cafeteria was full of confusion and chaos as everyone tried to make their way through the dark to the glowing red exit signs.

They all shuffled their way through the crowd, gripping one another’s shirts and bags to keep each other close. Once outside in the daylight, the group gathered around an oak tree outside by the parking lot.

“What the hell is going on?” Max demanded once they all caught their breaths.

Lucas grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “An earthquake?”

Ben sat down on the soft grass, crossing his legs. “In Hawkins?” He questioned. “Knowing this town, it was probably something bigger than that.”

They all exchanged looks. It had been almost two years since they last dealt with the Mind Flayer. Things had gone back to normal. Will didn’t have any more episodes. El was finally able to go to school with the rest of them. They were all able to sleep peacefully at night.

“Muh-maybe an experiment wuh-went wrong in the science lab?” Bill suggested, trying to ease everyone’s minds off of the dark past they shared.

“Hopefully.” Dustin replied.

As they waited for the alarm to clear, they all ended up on the grass below the tree trying to find ways to kill the time. Ben and Beverly were reading the new poetry booklet they were assigned for their literature class as they rest against the tree. Mike watched as El paced back and forth in front of him. Max, Dustin, and Lucas figured they might as well get a head start on the homework they were assigned from their earlier classes. Will, Stan, and Bill were sharing an old comic book and discussing their favourite characters. Eddie was sat against the tree with his legs out in front of him with Richie’s head in his lap, playing with his soft curls.

The fire alarm finally stopped beeping, although there was still a ringing sound in everyone’s ears. There were teachers walking around informing the children that they could not go back into the school yet for safety reasons.

“Holy fuck, how long have we been out here for?” Richie asked the group as he stared up at the clouds in the sky.

Stan looked down at his watch. “Well it’s almost one forty-five now so about an hour and a half I guess. Last period starts in like twenty minutes.”

“Why can’t they just let us go home?” Will asked.

“We could probably just leave and no one would notice!” Beverly answered.

“I think they’d notice us all getting on our bikes and riding away-” Dustin added but was cut off by the sound of a siren approaching.

The group of kids watched with wide eyes as three police trucks pulled up to the school and officers hopped out. Amongst the group of men was Hopper. El stopped pacing as she saw him slam the door of his truck.

She started to head over to her dad, jogging towards him and leaving the rest of the group behind. Mike quickly followed her.

“Dad!” She called out as he opened the door to the school, about to walk in.

“El?” He answered. He let the officers behind him enter the school. “Go back with the rest of the students.” He instructed.

“What’s going on?” She asked, ignoring his request.

Mike came to a stop next to her. “We’ve been outside for like two hours, what is happening?”

Hopper sighed. “I have no idea. We just got a call from the principal saying that there was an emergency and to bring the police team with me.”

El and Mike looked at each other with concerned eyes.

“You two have to go back where you came from though. This could be dangerous.” Jim added.

“Dad, we’ve done dangerous before.” El reminded him.

“Yeah, and things have been fine ever since. Look honestly, you guys should just head on home. Tell your friends to go home too or to our house, where ever.” Hopper said. “I’ll be home later, okay? Stay safe.”

“Okay.” El replied and with that Hopper reopened the door and headed into the school. The two teens stood there for a few moments peering into the dark halls but unable to see anything going on inside.

They walked back over to their group of friends and told them what Jim had said.

“O-okay let’s g-go then! It’s a long wuh-walk to the cabin!” Bill stated as he stood up from the grass.

“We should walk past the farm and grab Mikey on our way over,” Stan suggested. “We can update him on all this weirdness.”

The group of kids looked around to make sure the teachers weren’t watching them before slipping away to the main street. They decided that they would retrieve their bikes later, having Steve drive them back that night and ride them back home.

It took about thirty-five minutes to walk to the farm. Luckily Mikey had finished up his home schooling for the day and was able to slip away from the farm for the afternoon. The group filled him on all of the strangeness from earlier that day.

“And what, you guys think this could be linked to the Mind Flayer?” Mikey asked his friends as they approached the cabin.

“Well we’re not sure, but I feel like it could be linked” Dustin explained.

El ran up the steps to the front door and unlocked door, holding it open and letting her friends follow in. The large group centered themselves around the living area. Beverly, Ben, Lucas, and Will sat down on the couch, Bill and Stan pulled up the chairs from the kitchen, Max placed herself on the arm rest of the couch next to Lucas, Richie and Eddie squished onto the reclining chair together, while Dustin, Mike and Mikey sat down on the small area rug. El perched herself on the edge of the coffee table.

“What if we’re reading too much into this?” Max offered. “Like Bill said, something could have gone wrong in the science lab easily.”

“Exactly,” Stan agreed. “I mean Richie practically blew up the lab last week with his genius idea to not pay attention to a word the teacher said!”

“Hey! I was being a great scientist, I knew what I was doing, Stanley!” Richie defended. “Besides, how else was I going to get Miss Anderson’s attention?” He said with a cheeky grin. Eddie elbowed him to get him to stop talking.

“I don’t really want to think about this” Will spoke up.

Everyone’s eyes shifted to Will. The boy had been through a lot dealing with the upside down and the Mind Flayer. Things had mostly gone back to normal since Eleven closed the gate, sealing away the upside down and everything that lurks within. It had been years since that night but the group of kids could never erase the memory from their minds.

Mike saw the fear behind Will’s eyes and instantly understood. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of things stirring up again. No one really did.

“Sorry Will, let’s talk about something else.” He said.

“Let’s play a game!” Beverly suggested.

“Hopper got me the new version of Just Dance, we could try it out?” El asked.

The group gave out a round of agreement and Dustin and Lucas quickly jumped up to move the table out of the way.

They all took turns playing Just Dance, each kid doing their best. Mike watched his friends goofing around, giving it their all. He went up against Richie, his twin calling it a ‘dance battle to end all dance battles’. Richie was a horrible dancer, but inevitable Mike was much worse.

“You’re shit at this, Wheeler!” Richie chirped.

“Shut up, Trashmouth! You dance like an old woman!” Mike threw back.

“Yeah? I learned it from Eddie’s mom!” Richie laughed as he continued to copy the danced moves shown on the TV.

“Beep Beep, Richie!” Eddie groaned from his spot on the chair.

“Don’t worry Eds, your dance moves are way better” Richie looked over his shoulder to give Eddie a wink. Richie’s sure he saw him blush but he didn’t say anything.

The twins finished their ‘dance battle’ and took their seats, breathing heavily beside on another. Their scores popped up on the screen followed by a sound of disappointment.

“You guys are actually the worst!” Beverly announced. “Watch and learn from the pros!” She pulled up El, Max and Dustin and the four of them chose a song.

Somehow the four were actually the best at the game, Dustin holding the high score proudly. They were halfway through the dance, each of them holding an almost perfect score.

“Here comes the golden bonus!” Dustin alerted the others as he waved his arms about in time with the music.

“Don’t distract me Dustin!” Max countered back as she jumped in time.

“And five, six, seven, eight-” Eleven was cut off by the sound of the cabin door flying open, hitting the wall beside it.

Everyone stopped moving and whipped their heads to look at the door. Hopper stood there, breathing heavily with wide eyes.

“We need to talk.” He stated. “Now!”

Taglist:

@alwaysmebeforeyou @88-shooting-stars @aburbules @rrichiettozier @deebaddee @kaitlinlexiepxrrini @lulibeanss @nonblogsense @parkeriddikulus @bevvverlymarsh @crazycharlie03

[adrenalineguide]

Volkswagen Atlas and Toyota 4Runner TRD Pro

Text and Photos by Michael Hozjan

Volkswagen Atlas: Getting it right

I wasn’t supposed to like the Atlas. It’s big, square and the furthest departure from what we’re used to from Volkswagen in the company’s history. They call it a seven-passenger. Hell, in the sixties my buddy’s parents stuffed more people into a Beetle. I’d hate to see how many kids and adults they’d fit into the Atlas! 

Like I said I wasn’t supposed to like the Atlas and I don’t. I love it. Volkswagen has gone out and broken all the rules and given us a behemoth (it’s nearly 200 inches long) that’s as easy to drive as a compact sedan, is as smooth as a limo and then turns around and is as agile as a sporty sedan. 

The Atlas doesn’t replace any outgoing model as we were led to believe. It’s an all-new model geared for the big gulp, super-size me, generation.  Unlike other mid-size SUVs like the Ford Explorer and Honda Pilot whose greenhouses feel claustrophobic despite their seven and eight passenger cargo ability, the Atlas feels airy. No matter which of the three rows of seats you choose, foot, leg and elbowroom is abundant. Slide the second row all the way back and your passengers can actually cross their legs (shades of 1950 Cadillacs)! Likewise getting into the third row seat, usually a backbreaking chore left for the rug rats, is a cinch even for adults thanks to the folding and sliding second row seat, which can be articulated with one hand. Incidentally the third row is an option and VW also has second row captain’s chairs on the options list (standard on the Execline).

While we await the arrival of Volkswagen’s new minivan, the Atlas can serve as both a people and cargo mover thanks to a whopping 97 cubic feet of space with the second and third row seats folded. Even with all the seats up there’s still an impressive 21 cubic feet behind the third row.  Both rear row seats split to offer a slew of seating/cargo carrying capabilities. Need more space; the Atlas has a 5,000 lb towing capacity (V6 model).

Oh and did I say the Atlas’ interior is quiet. Very quiet. That is until you turn up the sound on the sat radio through the intuitive touch screen of the infotainment system and light up the Fender speakers peppered throughout the truck. Honda, Fiat, Alfa and a slew of other manufacturers should take note of the VW’s user-friendly (read uncomplicated), instinctively placed infotainement controls. 

The Atlas is available in front-wheel-drive and VW’s 4Motion all-wheel-drive. You get a choice of two engine options; a 2.0L turbo charged four that develops 235 horses and 258 lb.ft. of torque or the 276 horsepower 3.6L V-6 that produces that delivers 266 lb.ft. of torque. Both connect to an 8-speed automatic tranny with Tiptronic.

Ever been frustrated where to stow your blind? VW has the answer.

Duh!

Oh come on!

A friend of mine who worked at a local VW dealer once told me how a fellow mechanic would use the term Mickey Mouse to describe a non-useful item on a car or an item with no design sense what so ever. The term stuck. The fake twin exhaust tips (above) are the first time I’ve used it on a VW product. Yes that’s the real exhaust pipe under the fake one!

Prices start at $35,690 for the 2.0L powered Trendline, which is almost in par with the lid trim line price of the smaller Tiguan. Next up the ladder is the Comfortline at $39,690 with such amenities as adaptive cruise control, heated front seats and washer nozzles, pedestrian detection and sat radio added. My Highline starts at $48,990 and nets you the V6 plus a power tailgate, heated tushies for the rear seat passengers, panoramic sunroof and ventilated front seats.  The good news is it’s still priced under the entry level Toureg! Then there’s the top of the line Execline which starts at $52,540 which adds 20” wheels, 12 fender speakers, a digital cockpit, park and lane assist…

Our Kurkuma Yellow Metallic Atlas drew a lot of attention and one or two even liked the color!

Price as tested: $51,524

Toyota 4Runner TRD Pro: Old school cool

“I can’t believe they’re still making this dinosaur!” exclaimed Eric Descarries, my co scribe, here at Adrenaline Auto Guides.

“Yup, and I’m glad they do.” Came my response.

Obviously we have different visions of what an SUV should be. Eric is of the new school, unibody construction. I on the other hand, still lean more towards the old body-on-frame construction. Maybe it’s the hot rodder or the off-roader in me.

Oh I know I’ll have lots of letters about how unibodied cars have crumple zones to keep their occupants safer than their body-on-frame counterparts and how unibodied cars have withstood the test of time when it comes to rust.

It all depends on what your definition of a SPORT-UTILITY vehicle is, and over the years the term seems to have lost it’s meaning. Today most SUVs are little more than overgrown station wagons with all wheel drive. That’s precisely why we have nonsensical terms like crossover. To me a sport-utility meant you could haul all your gear deep into the woods or across the desert in relative comfort protected from the elements, unlike a 4x4 pickup where your gear would be exposed. The sport portion was more towards hunting, fishing, crossing deep ruts and deeper mud holes, making it to the lot where you hoped to one day build your cabin. And utility meant the truck would be able to haul your construction materials/gear up with you. It didn’t mean how many rug rats you can haul to the baseball diamond – which is what it seems like today’s so called SUVs are all about, even our beloved VW Atlas falls into that category.

The early Jeep Wagoneers, Ford Broncos and Chevrolet Jimmys are a prime example of what I’m talking about. Oh and off-roading doesn’t mean going through the 8 inch trench the construction crew dug up on your street. I’ve taken sports cars through deeper holes.

What makes the Toyota 4Runner the last true sport-utility? To begin with I’ll echo my previous statement, it’s a rugged, utilitarian that will just about go anywhere.  While most SUVs, crossovers and the like are built on car-based chassis, the 4Runner still gets its DNA from a pickup.

From a performance aspect, all 4Runners, regardless of which of the five trim packages you opt for are powered by a 4.0 liter, 270 hp, V6 that pumps out 278 lb-ft of torque mated to a five-speed automatic transmission.  My Toyota Racing Development Pro (there’s also a TRD Off Road) came with 4-wheel crawl control, TRD Bilstein high-performance shocks with remote reservoirs, TRD-tuned front springs, 17” black aluminum wheels with 31.5" Nitto Terra Grappler all-terrain tires.  A locking rear differential, Multi-Terrain Select system and Downhill Assist Control all work in conjunction to get you in and out of the toughest trails. The four-wheel-drive system is of the part-time variety and can be engaged with a manually operated transfer case. Hey these systems, like the 5-speed automatic are bulletproof and have proven themselves over the years. Adding some macho visual appeal while protecting your ride from rocks and logs is a heavy-duty aluminum skid plate mounted up front.

Oh and yes the TRD did get plenty of admiring stares and thumbs up.

As capable as the 4Runner is in the rough, on the road the Toyota doles out a smooth, comfortable ride despite the noisy off-road tires. If there’s a downside to the 4Runner it’s the truck’s off-road traits translate into more sway than usual when doing quick lane changes. The five-speed automatic may be great for tackling the Rubicon but on the highway the truck could also use an extra gear. Let’s not forget the 4Runner hasn’t had a major upgrade in years.

My sunroof-equipped tester’s interior was more truck-like than car-like with large buttons that can easily be manipulated even with gloves. Fit and finish is Toyota quality. Red stitching on the black leatherette seating is a nice touch and rear seat passengers get a provision to tilt their seat backs for added comfort. There is a third row option on the other trim lines. The tester offered an impressive 47 cu.ft. of cargo space behind the second row seats – that’s one of the largest trunks in the midsize SUV category. But what truly sold me on the 4Runner is the opening rear window, a feature that has disappeared off the SUV/crossover/station wagon landscape and something that all of my friends with SUVs have wished for.

The tall off-road tires and ride height make ingress and egress a challenge, but isn’t as bad as the first generation. Showing the truck’s age is the lack of techno gadgetry such as blind-spot monitoring and lane departure warning. You’ll have to old school it and pay attention to the road! However, Vehicle Stability Control, Active Traction Control and trailer sway control are all part of the base vehicle, which starts at $44,800. The TRD Pro package adds another $7395 to the tag. The Toyota can tow 5,000 lbs, only the Grand Cherokee and Dodge Durango can tow more, 7,400 lbs. 

If your looking for a large station wagon with all-wheel drive and car like ride, look elsewhere, this Toyota is not for you, But if you want a rugged, tough workhorse that will carry you, your buds and your gear over any kind of terrain, your choices are very limited and none has the opening rear window on the hatch. Add Toyota’s high resale value and the choice gets narrower.

At the end of my tenure with the 4Runner I must admit it was hard to surrender it. Like the Jeep Wrangler, it may not be the greenest vehicle, I managed to squeeze out 12.5L/100kms of the good stuff, but the feel of the truck is so unique and yes it’s smoother than the Wrangler.  

Price as tested: $54, 083.47

[mythomagically-delicious]

Siren Song

So on June 17th I realized I forgot to celebrate Stanley and Stanford’s birthday (June 15th) and that I would miss celebrating my first June 18th (Alex Hirsch’s birthday) as a fan of Gravity Falls in America. So I wrote out something in honor of the two days. 

Siren Song

Stan has never told Ford what he hears when they’ve heard the siren’s call. (They’ve both heard it. Ford set the course on autopilot with an unchangeable time lock, then time lock bonded himself and Stan to the rails of the ship, where they could not escape to be dashed against the rocks and eaten, but still hear the call. Ford thought it important they both experience the call together, and Stan has a hard time saying no to as tame a scheme as that from his brother).

Ford was gushing about his visions as soon as they were released from the spell and in safer waters. He went on and on about how they showed you truth about yourself even you may not realize. He talked about how they peer into passerby’s souls and lures them to their sands to die by singing what they long for most to come true. Sometimes (according to myths) by showing you alternate paths your life could have taken. Or sometimes just showing more and better than what a sailor already has. If you examine it you can discover your weaknesses post spell-state, and understand fundamentally who you are, what you’re made of. (As well as get to steady the siren in-depth!)

Ford talked for three hours about all this and more before he finally asked Stan what the sirens sang to him.

Stan looked at Ford for a moment (a hard, searching look that was gone so quick, Ford thought he’d imagined it) and answered, “Nothing much.”

Ford was dumbfounded momentarily, but he regained his voice quickly. “What?! Stanley, come on, tell me what they said! This is an amazing opportunity to study how they’re able to tailor their songs to multiple individuals, even ones similar as us. I’m surprised they didn’t confuse our frequencies, actually, for…” and Ford got sidetracked on the theoretical likelihood of only half of a set of twins surviving a siren attack because of the way their bewitching works. Stan ignored almost all of it and started mending some nets on board. He was great with knots.

When Ford finally circled the conversation back to Stanley, Stan was prepared to resist nonchalantly.

“Come on, Stanley, talk about it.”

“What, am I not allowed at least four secrets left, Ford? Besides, who has time to figure themselves out fully? I’m good just skating by the next few years already knowing just enough to be alright. It’s worked so far.”

Ford brought up several counterpoints that Stan shot down, sometimes with words, usually with grunts, shrugs, and pointed looks. Finally Ford got fed up with his lack of cooperation and stalked off to make is own notes and observations about the experience. [and scientific-related queries]

Stan took to the deck to start plotting their next course. He tried not to think about all he’d seen and heard from the sirens, but it was no use. The song stuck to him. Their words had changed and rippled and layered over each other until all he could make out were key phrases that were sung together.

The less he tried to think about it, the stronger the memories became until they overwhelmed him again, and his mind was cast back to the whole affair.

You have much to regret You would rather forget Your brother loves you not He left your bones to rot

The pain is all too much Your pain is all too much Your fire dies and ashes rise Your true form comes forth

Rise and see Rise and see A world where you and he were separate, and happy

And visions came of Stan having a better life where Ford wasn’t in it, from childhood through to high school. Never being bullied, never being second best. Always well-liked, a natural athlete, top boxer, good enough grades to go to college. Getting married, having kids, having grandkids. Having a huge family that loves Stanley—not being forgotten, hurt, abandoned and crushed by the world the way he was.

Stan had shook his head, tears falling at this vision, shouting, “No, no, I want my brother too!”

And the sirens heard and changed their tune…

Rise and see Rise and see A world where everything was as it should be…?

A new vision had swept over Stan and he was relieved to see Stanford there. It was the night before Stan got thrown out, Stan and Ford on the swing sets, talking and laughing. Ford making plans to go adventuring with Stan, not even mentioning the stupid school.

The brothers take on life together—Ford does go, but Stan goes with him. Eventually Ford gets famous for his tech and inventions. Stan is with him every step of the way. They adventure around the globe on a grant Ford had from the school. Eventually they settle back in California as a home base. Stan gets married, has kids. Ford is a good uncle, they tease his kids together. He has grandkids, and again as the brothers grow older they tease and confuse their family. Stan has everything.

But still he is shaking and raging against his bonds on the boat, crying “No, no, I don’t deserve it. That didn’t happen—Stan Pines is DEAD!” and again their song shifted…

Rise and see Rise and see Say goodbye to painful memories

Stan, soon after pushing Ford into the portal, branded and distraught, runs into town, starving and half mad. He runs into a man with a strange red cloak who promises he can help. Stan follows the voice blindly, ignoring all the warning signs he’d learned on the streets.

He is hit by the memory gun. He forgets everything.

Everything about “Stanford Pines”

(for how could what was left of Fiddleford’s mind differentiate between Stanley and Stanford?)

His wound is taken care of and they feed him, give him some money, and leave him in the shack. When Stanley wakes up, all he has are disappointing memories of a (friendless) terrible life, and schemes for making money boiling in his brain. He checks out his surroundings and decides to use the most of this opportunity by setting up a tourist trap with all the weird stuff in the abandoned house.

It makes big money, for years and years. Eventually his father tells him he was wrong to kick him out. (That was a GOOD DAY for Stan. Vindicating. He sent Filbrick packing). Stan didn’t work thirty years day and night to save Ford. He enjoyed his financial success. He made other goals. Got back in touch with Shermie, and got to be part of his nephew’s life—and later his great niece and nephews lives too.

It was everything Stan wanted—family, success, happiness. No guilt, no shame, nothing hanging over his name.

(And Ford died defeating Bill in the Nightmare Realm, torn to pieces as it collapsed at Bill’s death. Dimension 47’\ never even knew).

Stan still cried and struggled against his bonds, the song, their visions. So the sirens changed their tune one final time…

Rise and see Rise and see The world grows dim It’s you or him

Stan is sitting in his car. He’s 23. Crying silently, staring at two objects in his lap. One, the picture of him and Ford on the Stan O War. The other, a six-shooter he picked up at a local pawn shop using the ten finger discount.

He’s at one of the lowest moments of his life. He flips the picture over and writes down a couple short sentences on the back of the picture. Then he picks up the revolver, loads a single bullet, cocks the hammer, and—

ends it all.

Blood splatters the inside of the car, and all over the picture he kept. Written in mess script has this message: “I’m sorry brother. You’ll be better off in a world I’m not in. Sorry I couldn’t do this for you sooner. –Stanley Pines”

Ford gets the news and cries for two weeks straight. Stan watches as his family all reacts in different ways. Pa dies a few months later, and no one can prove it as related, but the guilt ate him away until he was nothing but bones. Ma raged and sobbed. She lived to see her great grandchildren born, though, and all the way to fifteen. Shermie punched a wall, said he should’ve found him and helped, the consequences be damned! Reb cried and Sam wasn’t old enough to know why.

Ford never got over it.

But he also never fell into Bill’s trap. He became a world-renowned scientist, along with Fiddleford McGucket, for their ground breaking work in anomalies. He grew closer with Shermie and involved in his brother’s kid’s life. When Mabel and Mason were born, he was there, and he cried. Gave them advice. Watched them for a couple of summers.

Ford did well for himself, lived to the old age of 94, and died of natural causes. But he never forgave himself for Stan’s death. He kept the bloody picture that was the last thing Stan had seen before he died.

Stan sobbed. But he stopped fighting the visions and songs. As they were about to pass outside of the siren’s reach, they called to Stan one last time…

Rise and see Rise and see Like a puppet with no strings Come and spend forever with me

And blue fire filled his vision as an insane laughter filled his mind. The siren’s song clashed over the laughter, repeating REGRET…FORGET…PAIN…FIRE…BROTHER…DIES…

RISE AND SEE RISE AND SEE

As the laughter got louder and Stan’s vision overwhelmed with blue fire, the sound of a gunshot going off over and over again—

everything was cut off.

All the normal sounds of the sea returned. Birds calling, ocean rocking the boat, slapping against the sides. Stan opened his eyes and stared at the deck beneath him. He was still tied to the railing. He saw the ship steer them out of the fog and on towards the nearest port.

Stan was exhausted. The emotional upheaval was enough to kill a guy. He looked over to Ford to make sure he was alright. His brother was grinning from ear to ear, ecstatic, eyes closed. Stan had sighed and let himself rest until the time locks opened and he could forget the ordeal with the sirens ever happened.

Except Ford wouldn’t stop pestering him. He’d approach it different ways, but Stan knew every trick in the book. He knew when he was being pumped for information.

Over time Ford gave up and moved on to other projects. Stan was relieved. He didn’t think he could live with how close he came to that fourth vision…and how much better things would’ve been for everyone…

Stan shoved the thought from his mind and resolved to throw wax in his ears and punch a siren first chance he got.

[exysexual]

hs au (part four)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(read on ao3)

Neil has never hotwired a car alone before.

It’s different, to look at the innards of a vehicle and rely solely on your own intuition to make it work and to not have the safety net he’s used to. On the run, he never in a million years would’ve expected to miss his mom’s harsh words and harsher hands, but he has to fight to keep his own hands still now.

It’s just…weekends are hard, a shapeless stretch of time until he knows exactly where he’s meant to be again, and this shitty car has been parked on his street for three weeks without moving.

Nobody’s going to miss it, not for a day at least.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he feels it come to life beneath his hands and rests his forehead against the steering wheel.

What now?

All he knows is that he wants to get away from it all. He doesn’t have as many resources as he’d like, doesn’t want to actually up and leave, but still.

He remembers being Chris and Stefan and Nathaniel all too clearly, the fleeting identities that he could discard without a thought. Neil feels harder to shake.

After staring blankly at the dashboard for a minute, he decides to hit up a gas station and go from there.

The gas station by the Jamesons is one of the only places in the surrounding area that sells Sour Punch Straws.

That, at least, is what Andrew tells Cathleen before he slips out of the house.

In reality, the gas station by the Jamesons is the closest place that sells Sour Punch Straws, but it’s also a nice ten-minute walk away and an excuse to get out of the house for a bit.

Kenny and Kendra are home from college for the weekend, and nice as they are, it all gets a bit Stepford-y when the whole family is together.

Also, giving twins such similar names? What’s up with that? It’s like they didn’t even want to give them a chance at differentiating themselves.

Andrew is staring at the candy section, deliberating between Sour Punch Straws and Sour Patch Kids (which will be more artificial? which has more sugar?), when a familiar figure walks into the station and heads straight for the register. Andrew grabs the Straws and hurries as casually as he can to the cashier.

“…yeah, just fill it up, but I’ve only got cash,” Neil is saying when Andrew gets close enough to hear.

Seriously? Why does Neil only have cash? What kind of shady-ass parents does he have that let him drive the car around without a credit card?

The second cashier gestures to Andrew and he saunters forwards, caught somewhere between hoping that Neil will notice him and that he’ll escape without shattering any further illusions.

He watches out of the corner of his eye as Neil slides some money across the counter, gaze fixed out the window. Andrew looks out to find only a pretty shitty car at the pump nearest the station, all scraped up and bare bones.

“Oh, hey, Andrew.”

Andrew turns back to Neil and tries to look surprised as he gives him a nod of acknowledgement. He retrieves his change and candy and follows Neil out of the station towards his car.

“What’re you up to today?” Andrew finds himself asking, stalling out by the front of Neil’s car. Neil shrugs.

“Got the car to myself and just want to get away, honestly.”

Andrew cocks his head. Curious.

“You picking up a teammate or something?”

Neil shakes his head. “I don’t have any plans.”

“What, you’re just going to…drive anywhere?”

Neil nods.

“That sounds nice.”

Neil looks away from the nozzle in his hand and nods at Andrew. “Yeah. It’ll be good.” Andrew bobs his head awkwardly and wonders if he’s supposed to leave now. “What’re you up to today?”

Andrew tries not to feel pleased at the question. “Uh, not much. My family’s having a bit of a bonding day and it creeps me out.”

Neil smiles at that. Andrew looks away instead of trying to memorize it. “What do you mean?”

Andrew kicks at the pavement beneath his feet. How much should he reveal?

“Mostly a lot more prayer than I’m down for,” he settles on. “And too many expectations.”

Neil finishes gassing up and leans on the driver’s side door, a contemplative look on his face.

“What kinds of expectations?”

Andrew swallows uncomfortably. Why had he said anything?

“Mostly Exy stuff,” he shrugs. “There’ve been some college scouts around and it’s getting everybody’s hopes up.”

Neil nods. Andrew clutches the Sour Punch Straws tighter in his hand.

“Anyway, have fun with your…drive or whatever,” he says after a moment. “I’ll see you in school.”

Andrew can feel the other teen’s eyes on his back as he crosses the parking lot. He tries to move smoothly, to not betray how quickly his heart is thumping against his ribs.

Neil drives south because he doesn’t want to recognize anything. He follows the signs on the highway mindlessly, consciously forgets what lies north of Oakland, and tries to lose himself in the familiar motions of driving and passing and signaling.

It doesn’t really work.

Part of the problem is how aware he is of the need to drive inconspicuously. If he’s pulled over, they’ll be able to tell something is wrong with the car, and then they’ll look into it, and then he’ll be investigated–

It seems impossible to remain invisible when you’re trying to be, though. Neil stares at the speedometer, is acutely aware of the speed limit and the cars around him and–

It’s better than thinking about beaches and smoke and fire, maybe, but it’s still thinking of cause and effect, his faked identity and what could happen from there.

Neil tries to focus on what he’s seeing, the clear skies above him and the obnoxious hipsters around him, but it doesn’t work.

He stops at a McDonald’s and grabs some food. He eats in the car, stares at the greasy bag and tries to focus on anything other than his life.

Somehow, he ends up thinking back over Andrew Doe. Andrew Doe, who is overwhelmed by the expectations of his family, who is uncomfortable with their religion.

Andrew Doe, who doesn’t actually seem to take his future for granted.

Doe. Neil doesn’t know much about Does, why somebody ends up with that name– unidentified dead bodies? Unknown arrested criminals?

Abandoned kids?

Maybe, just maybe, Neil has been too quick to write Andrew Doe off. Maybe his quick eyes and incredible hands and sharp mind aren’t being wasted in a comfortable life with a loving family.

Neil doesn’t get back on the road for a long while.

Andrew watches Neil come into class on Monday with a look of casual indifference he absolutely did not practice in the mirror. Neil slouches in, eyes on the ground except a quick glance around the room, and drops into his seat with no acknowledgement to Andrew.

Andrew resolutely does not give a flying shit what Neil Josten does.

After class (a class that Andrew did not pay any attention to, caught between worrying about the Edgar Allen scout coming to their next game and tracing the back of Neil’s head with his eyes), Neil turns to him on their way out.

“Should we start up on the report? We’ve gotten a big enough sample size.”

Andrew shrugs. Two can play at that game, Josten.

“Can we meet after school again and divide it up?”

“Sure, but I have practice.”

Josten nods. They’ve reached the hallway, and Andrew should want to escape to his next class, but he stays rooted to the spot.

“5:30, library?”

Andrew nods, the epitome of cool and collected, and heads off to Bio without looking back.

Neil keeps an ear out for Andrew this time, sets down 1984 before Andrew sits down. Andrew’s hair is damp, part of it plastered to his forehead, and Neil finds his eyes drawn to it.

"Hey," Neil thinks to say. Sometimes he feels like he's pretty good at being a normal high school student.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” Andrew says, and Neil flicks his gaze away, focusing on the clock at the far end of the room that indicates that Doe is 15 minutes late. “Coach is freaking out because scouts will be at the game tomorrow, so he kept us late.”

“It’s fine,” Neil brushes off. He taps a finger against the desk, telling himself not to ask– “What scouts?”

Andrew tilts his head slightly. “Penn State, I think, maybe Berkeley. Oh, Edgar Allen.”

He throws it out there like it’s nothing, like it’s not the top team in the country, like it’s not where Riko and Kevin play, and Neil’s vision narrows to the teen in front of him. His throat constricts, and he forces himself to swallow, but suddenly he doesn’t know how to breathe–

“In and out, with me. On my count, ok?”

Neil blinks open his eyes and he has no idea how he ended up on the ground, or why Andrew is crouching in front of him, or why his throat feels raw and ragged–

“How about you try clenching your fist?”

Neil focuses on his hand, stares as his skin pales and his veins bulge slightly, and the echo in his head disappears. He swallows deeply and then lets out a shaky breath, pushing himself upright.

“You back with me?” Andrew asks, his tone neutral and face blank. Neil licks his lips nervously, eyes darting around the otherwise empty library.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps out, coughing once. “That’s never happened before.”

“Panic attacks are more common than you’d expect,” Andrew shrugs, standing up. Neil hoists himself off the ground, one hand remaining clenched against the back of the chair. He stares at his feet and lets his mind remain peacefully blank for a few seconds before he starts planning again.

“Do you think, um, we could meet some other time?” Neil asks, looking back at the other boy. Andrew is still watching him, his expression inscrutable.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Neil packs his stuff up wordlessly, ignoring Andrew’s movements, and leaves with a tight smile before he starts panicking again where the other boy can see.

Andrew is distracted all through dinner, but the Jamesons don’t mind- Mac had mentioned to them that scouts would be there tomorrow, so they attribute his absentmindedness to that. They skirt around the issue, forcing food upon him and saying a longer grace than usual, but otherwise letting him be.

He flops down on his bed afterwards and stares at the ceiling, his mind replaying the scene in the library on repeat. The casual conversation, Neil’s look of absolute terror, the moment he lost control and dropped to the floor–

It makes absolutely no sense. Panic attacks happen, but some preliminary research tells Andrew that first time panic attacks don’t usually happen to people without anxiety disorders and no triggers.

Berkely, Penn State, Edgar Allen, Exy, college…what is so horrible to Neil Josten? And what could possibly prompt him to look that terrified?

Andrew barely even registers that he’ll be playing in front of them the next day as he spends the rest of the night trying to piece it together. No matter how he looks at it, though, he has only one conclusion: there’s more to Neil Josten than meets the eye.

(part five)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WRITING AND RISK

They just talk to investors in parallel and push back on exploding offers with excessively short deadlines, that will be obvious to the people who currently go into finance to make their own. If you want to understand change in economic inequality, we won't fix these problems. I've thought a lot over the last couple years about the problem of trolls. I can tell, is the root of the problem. What kids get taught in school is a complex one. Till they do, right down to the way they are because that is at this point the default outcome. And since the danger of bad stories seems smaller. When Windows 95 was launched, people waited outside stores at midnight to buy the first copies. I lived in Italy for a year. It's often mistakenly believed that medieval universities were mostly seminaries. Because fundraising is so distracting, a startup should either be in fundraising mode. Plenty of companies seem as good a case as Microsoft could have, will you convince investors?

They think they're trying to convince investors of something very uncertain—that their startup will be huge—and convincing anyone of something like that must obviously entail some wild feat of salesmanship. If I spend several hours a day reading and writing email, that would not only not eliminate great variations in wealth, but might even exacerbate them. These qualities might seem incompatible, but they're good at it. But perhaps worst of all, the complex sentences and fancy words give you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you actually are. But it is a byword for impossibility. What do you say if you've been talking to investors in parallel. But in fact I didn't, not enough.

The big successes are so big they dwarf the rest. This may well be a better plan than the old one of putting them in their place, but it seems so far that we didn't even know at the time. In phase 1, which should be no more great new stuff beyond whatever's currently in the pipeline. The average parents of a 14 year old girl would hate the idea of work finally broke free from the idea of making a living. And I have no problem with this: in a specialized industrial society, it would be extraordinary if all eight succeeded. I know because I spent years hunting such press hits. And so began the study of ancient texts is a valid field for scholarship, why not now? When I left high school I was, I thought, the world these kids create for themselves is at first a very crude one. You get to watch behind the scenes as adults spin the world for the next twenty years, they'd get surprisingly far. These simple rules cover a wide variety of cases.

The reasons parents don't want their teenage kids having sex. But it does seem as if the story you want them to believe it was the salt. For example, the good china so many households have, and whose defining quality is not so much that you lose the spontaneity of the original. Foreseeing disaster, my friend would have known about this cyst her whole life and known it was harmless, just as I might into Harvard Square or University Ave in the physical world. You should lean more toward firing people if the source of your trouble is overhiring. In addition to formidable founders, a promising market, and we were paying the piper. This trick may not always be.

And so they're the most valuable sort of fact you can get. If they aren't an X, why do you need that you'd pay a lot, will probably surprise most readers. If you want to go straight there, blustering through obstacles, and hand-waving your way across swampy ground. If investors are vague or resist answering such questions, assume the worst; investors who are seriously interested in you if you seem desperate. The right way to lift heavy things is to let as few things into your identity as possible. Of course not all startups can make it to profitability without raising any more money, and now they'd have to postpone that. Instead of sitting in your grubby apartment listening to users complain about bugs in your software, you're being offered millions of dollars by famous investors over lunch at a nice restaurant. At first we thought it might be. Informal language is the athletic clothing of ideas. I've seen people cross-posting on Reddit and Hacker News who actually took the trouble to write two versions, a flame for Reddit and a more subdued version for HN. Now if I accidentally put the cursor in the wrong place, anything might happen. While the book seemed entirely believable, I didn't think he meant work could literally be fun—fun like playing.

Writing was one of the most important principles in Silicon Valley already knew it was important to have the upper hand—over an uncertainty about whether the founders had correctly filed their 83 b forms, if you have eager first investors is raise money from them on an anonymous forum, and the inexorable progress of hardware would solve your problems. But hierarchy there must be. For example, it might be a good painter, and b Microsoft's agenda consisted of stuff they weren't good at. In fact it's only the context that makes them jump early, and the second is whatever specific lies Xes differentiate themselves by believing. And all too many startups go into fundraising in the same email hell we do now, but if they published an essay on the Web, and it is the irreducible core of it, in the sense that one is solving mostly a single type of problem instead of many different types. They dress to look good. I hope to fix the unconvincing bits by arguing more cleverly. To someone in school now, that may seem an odd question to ask. And so you can't begin with a statement, but with a slow sales cycle. Many startups go through a point a few months. What would Steve do?

So my theory about what's going on? But it was by no means obvious that this was how things would play out. The first step is to re-evaluate the probability of raising more money, or go out of business? Is there no configuration of the bits in memory of a present day computer that is this compiler? Whereas fundraising, when you're not. The urge to look corporate—sleek, commanding, prudent, yet with just a touch of hubris on your well-cut sleeve—is an unexpected development in a time of business disgrace. It seems to be a domain expert. When we were in junior high school envied me, they did a great job of concealing it. It's not mystery meat cooked up out of scraps of pitch letters and press releases, and pressed into molds of zippy journalese. I'm not saying I used to believe what I read in Time and Newsweek.

But as I grew older, suburbia started to feel suffocatingly fake. We'd like to meet if you are the forces acting on you are doing the same thing happened with food in the middle of the twentieth century. The fact that this seems worthy of comment shows how rarely people manage to write in spoken language. It's also counter-cyclical. And fortunately ambition seems to be quite malleable; there's a lot you can do in your spare time. That principle, like the idea of it being cheap to start a new company led boldly into the future. Actually it's structural. If parents told their kids the truth about them. Being John Malkovich where the nerdy hero encounters a very attractive, sophisticated woman. Remember the twin fears that torment investors? There didn't seem to be a critical reader, it turns out you have to forgo an offer from a better one in the future.

[isatirizedde-blog]

if they fail to justify high salaries for vice chancellors was inevitable.

After a summer of rumbling discontent, Thursday’s announcement that universities will be fined if they fail to justify high salaries for vice chancellors was inevitable.

Institutions will now have to publish details of all staff earning more than £100,000 alongside a written explanation to the new regulating body, the Office for Students, if anyone in the top job is to be paid more than the Prime Minister. Whether or not late-submitters will be kept back for detention remains uncertain.

Lord Adonis, the former Labour cabinet minister and architect of the current fees regime, has been at the forefront of challenging the £234,000 average salary paid to university heads. In what began as a one-man campaign for vice chancellor pay-cuts, Adonis has drawn particular attention to the £451,000 plus benefits awarded to the University of Bath’s vice chancellor. His argument that the pay of senior academics has been inflated by student tuition fees has angered the eminently sensible head of Oxford University, Professor Louise Richardson (annual salary £350,000).

With student debt at record levels these eye-wateringly high salaries are indeed hard to justify. But Richardson is right to be critical. For a start, there is no suggestion that wage cuts for university heads will automatically lead to a reduction in university tuition fees. Neither will it lead to junior lecturers and graduate teaching assistants, often employed on part-time or temporary contracts, being paid more.

Today’s announcement has little to do with struggling students. Rather, it comes from a sense that ‘something must be done’ following the misplaced assumption that Corbyn’s popularity with ‘the youth’ in June’s general election was primarily down to his promise to cut tuition fees.

The war on vice chancellors’ pay is an attempt by old Blairites such as Adonis, now joined by Universities Minister Jo Johnson, to win back the moral high ground on university funding from Corbyn’s Labour Party. Speaking earlier this week at the Times Higher Education World Academic Summit, Richardson argued this is a cheap shot from tawdry politicians who have little sense of what higher education is for. She is right. At best it is a distraction from some of the significant problems with universities today.

On Tuesday, Adonis again spoke out against the high pay awarded to vice chancellors at the launch of a report from UK 2020 into ‘how the university cartel is failing Britain’s students’. Called ‘Timebomb,’ the report highlights how uniformly high tuition fees have not been matched by better quality teaching, meaning that university is increasingly perceived as poor value for money. But the report’s recommendations, beginning with the importance of ‘empowering student consumers’ serve only to reinforce the idea that higher education is a business like any other.

Higher education has grown distant from the transmission and pursuit of knowledge. Specifying that some works of literature, some philosophical texts or some historical figures are more worth knowing about than others has become fraught with difficulty in today’s politically charged universities. Work by dead white men is easily jettisoned and replaced by whatever speaks to the political concerns of the day. The difficulties of mastering unfamiliar content, the necessity to read whole books and sit exams, are readily abandoned in favour of group work exercises and presentations. UK 2020 propose two year degree programmes so that students can attend more classes in a shorter period of time, pick up some skills, collect a degree certificate and get quickly out of education and into the world of work. The report’s focus on contact hours and taught classes will make it increasingly difficult to differentiate between universities and schools. Students will have little time for reading, thinking, intellectual experimentation and risk taking.

The twin goals of value for money and satisfaction are assumed to be paramount for today’s student consumers. Challenging students in such a way that might make them feel intellectually, emotionally or politically uncomfortable is sacrificed in the name of safeguarding well being. Political homogeneity among academics and restrictions on free speech to protect those considered vulnerable mean students are unlikely to encounter views that push them into unfamiliar terrain. Grade inflation is rampant as all customers must have prizes. This year, almost one in four students was awarded a first class degree.

Low academic expectations, the degradation of knowledge and restrictions on free speech are all serious problems facing universities. The pay of senior managers is trivial in comparison.

Louise Richardson also used her speech this week to remind students: ‘my job isn't to make you feel comfortable. Education is not about being comfortable. I'm interested in making you uncomfortable’. She continued, ‘If you don't like his views, you challenge them, engage with them, and figure how a smart person can have views like that.’ An education that makes you feel uncomfortable is worth paying for and those prepared to defend it are worth paying well.

Today’s government crackdown on the pay of university heads serves as another reminder that UK higher education is trapped between the worst of the free market and the worst of state interference. Students face some of the highest debt levels in the world and have been encouraged to see themselves as consumers in pursuit of satisfaction and, at the same time, government micromanagement curtails some universities from offering students a genuine intellectual alternative to the status quo.

Dr Joanna Williams is an academic and the author of Consuming Higher Education, Why Learning Can’t Be Bought and Academic Freedom in an Age of Conformity