#you don’t owe art anything ne definition

[wormtoxin]

i’m gonna be real, the cultural perception that trans women are predators is absolutely vicious and immediately dangerous to women. but idk if policing the behavior of trans perverts online is my ideal solution. internalized transphobia has led me to more immediate repression and danger to myself than much else. i’m constantly terrified to publish (admittedly completely boring and safe and marketable) erotica because someone might make such an accusation against me. Trans artists’ reputations have absolutely crumbled on accusations with less stable foundations. I don’t love transphobia. I’m really lucky that the worst kinds of transphobic violence i’ve experienced have been through a screen. I just don’t know that extra surveillance and moral hyper-vigilance is gonna work out in our favor here, girls.

[chrisevansdaughter]

chris evans x short!reader

where chris finds it ADORABLE that she can help him out with anything, fit into tiny spaces, climb into small spaces , etc

pls pls pls do this as a crack fic!!

I could imagine it going something like this..

Good things fit in small spaces

Paring: Chris Evans x Short!girlfriend reader

Warning: pure crack, some swearing.

Summary: chris finds it too funny that short! Reader can fit in to the most stupidest small spaces ever, don’t get me wrong it helpful but it’s too funny. Here is 2 times chris has either came home and found reader like this or needs her to help him with small spaces.

The first time:

I walked in to the house after being on set for ‘hustlers’ and I had the weekend off, y/n didn’t know I was coming home.

All the lights were off as I walked though the house but when I got to the kitchen I look around trying to find y/n and all I can do is chuckle at how she’s managed to get into the small cupboard that was big enough for her to comfortably sit in and she’d sometimes hide round the house when she needed a break or just wasn’t feeling the best, all because she knew I wouldn’t be able to fit.

“Hey bubs, uh what goin on why are you in the cupboard hmm” I ask whilst laughing at what she looks like in the cupboard.

“Ahhhh! Ow Chris what the fuck are you doing here? Aren’t you meant to be filming?” She asked whilst she smacked her head on the cupboard door whilst climbing down to come and give me a hug.

Laughing at her reaction whilst checking she’s okay, i explain that I got the week off because of the hurricanes going though Florida right now. She just hugged me and walked off, to most likely go hide again in a different room in the house. There was too many to count it’s like a ‘where’s Wally’ game just with y/n and to be honest it was too funny to even try and guess where she was. Even Scott was confused the first time he found her in a cupboard in the kitchen whilst looking for some hot sauce he definitely got the scare of his life.

The second time:

Chris was putting a piece of art work he’d gotten for a present from his sisters up in his living room the only problem was that he couldn’t get his hand behind the storage unit that sat resident below where he wanted to put it up. This is where y/ns 5 ft butt comes into save the day.

“Babe, can you come here please?” Chris yelled from the living room.

“Yeah bubs, what’s wrong?” She replied walking into the room with her hair in a messy claw clip wearing one of chris’ T-shirts

“I need your small superpowers please, I can’t get behind the unit” Chris murmured the superpower bit knowing y/n would get a kick out of what he said you know him being Captain America and all.

“Oh yeah mr Americas ass needs my help, oh wow his serum must be going through some serious stuff right now if he needs little old me to help.” Y/n started laughing half way though that sentence running round the room since Chris is now chasing her to tickle her since mr america needs no small lady superpowers.

“Come’ere you cheeky little short stack” he chuckles as he runs to catch her and dodger chasing behind him barking at all of the laughs and screams.

“No - Chris no- Ahhhh.. no no no St- stop please” y/n tries to plead with Chris to stop tickling her

“Say sorry. Say mr Americas ass still has his superpowers and just needs his amazing sweet sidekick” Chris says laughing at her giggles, it’s so infectious her laugh and her smile it just makes him feel amazing.

“Fi-ne I’m - I’m sorry, mr Americas ass still- has his superpowers and he just- needs his amazing sweet sidekick” She breathes heavily after he finally stops tickling her, chris just hugs her and kisses her on her forehead after the little game of ‘let’s chase short stack around the house’ they finally got the picture up and y/n was dizzy after all of that so they just cuddled on the couch together with tangled playing on in the background, the warmth of being in chris’ embrace lulling her to sleep.

Thank you for the request lovey i hope you enjoyed it, I’m sorry it was a bit late being written but none the less I hope you all enjoy :)

Taglist:

@mcuamerica @wndawtch @buckyalpine @lilithneedslove @ace-of-gay @chrisevansonly @chrissyevanss @cevansgoatee @kingshitonly @ellerosie2332 @lena-jolie @lokislittlemidgardian @dumb-fawkin-bitch @positivelyholland @imyourbratzdoll @no-not-without-you-blog @stuckysdumbbitch @stuckysdoll @stevie-rogers-anon @chrisdrysdale

if you guys would like to be added to my tag list please do comment or just send in an ask :)

Reblogs, feedback and asks are appreciated <3

[queenlua]

hey, i started following you recently and ur bio says ur a hacker? any tips on where to start? hacking seems like a v cool/fun way to learn more abt coding and cybersecurity/infrastructure and i'd like to explore it but there's so much on the internet and like, i'm not trying to get into anything illegal. thanks!

huh, an interesting question, ty!

i can give more tailored advice if you hit me up on chat with more specifics on your background/interests.

given what you've written here, though, i'll just assume you don't have any immediate professional aspirations (e.g. you just want to learn some things, and you aren't necessarily trying to get A Cyber Security Job TM within the next three months or w/e), and that you don't know much about any specific programming/computering domain yet.

(stuff under cut because long)

first i'd probably just try to pick some interesting problem that you think you can solve with tech. this doesn't need to be a "hacking" project at first; i was just messing around with computers for ages before i did anything involving security/exploitation.

if you don't already know how to program, you should ideally pick a problem you can solve via programming. for instance: i learned a lot back in the 2000s, when play-by-post forum RPGs were in vogue.  see, i'd already been messing around, building my own personal sites, first just with HTML & CSS, and later on with Javascript and PHP.   and i knew the forum software everyone used (InvisionPowerBoard) was written in PHP.  so when one of the admins at my RPG complained that they'd like the ability to set multiple profile pictures, i was like, "hey i'm good at programming, want me to create a mod to do that," and then i just... did. so then they asked me to program more features, and i got all the sexy nerd cred for being Forum Mod Queen, and it was a good time, i learned a lot.

(i also got to be the person who was frantically IMed at 2am because wtf the forum is down and there's an inscrutable error, what do??? basically sysadmining! also, much less sexy! still, i learned a lot!)

the key thing is that it's gotta be a problem that's interesting to you: as much as i love making dorky sites in PHP, half the fun was seeing other people using my stuff, and i think the era of forum-based RPGs has passed. but maybe you can apply some programming talents to something that you are interested in—maybe you want to make a silly Chrome extension to make people laugh, a la Cloud to Butt, or maybe you'd like to make a program that converts pixel art into cross-stitching patterns, maybe you want to just make a cool adventure game on those annoying graphing calculators they make you use in class, or make a script for some online game you play, or make something silly with Arduino (i once made a trash can that rolled toward me when i clapped my hands; it was fun, and way easier than you'd think!), whatever.

i know a lot of hacker-types who got their start doing ROM hacking for video games—replacing the character art or animations or whatever in old NES games. that's probably more relevant than the PHP websites, at least, and is probably a solid place to get started; in my experience those communities tend to be reasonably friendly to questions. pick a small thing you want to do & ask how to do it.

also, a somewhat unconventional path, but—once i knew how to program a bit of Python, i started doing goofy junk, like, "hey can i implemented NamedTuple from scratch,” which tends to lead to Python metaprogramming, which leads to surprising shit like "oh, stack frames are literally just Python objects and you can manually edit them in the interpreter to do deliberately horrendous/silly things, my god this language allows too much reflection and i'm having too much fun"... since Python is a lot of folks' first language these days, i thought i'd point that out, since i think this is a pretty accessible start to thinking about How Programs Actually Work under the hood. allison kaptur has some specific recommendations on how to poke around, if you wanna go that route.

it's reasonably likely you'll end up doing something "hackery" in the natural course of just working on stuff. for instance, while i was working on the IPB forum software mods, i became distressed to learn that everyone was using an INSECURE version of the software! no one was patching their shit!! i yelled at the admins about it, and they were like "well we haven't been hacked yet so it's not a problem," so i uh, decided to demonstrate a proof of concept? i downloaded some sketchy perl script, kicked it until it worked, logged in as the admins, and shitposted a bit before i logged out, y'know, to prove my point.

(they responded by banning me for two weeks, and did not patch their software. which, y'know, rip to them; they got hacked by an unrelated Turkish group two months later, and those dudes just straight-up deleted the whole website. i was a merciful god by comparison!)

anyway, even though downloading a perl script and just pointing it at a website isn't really "hacking" (it's the literal definition of script kiddie, heh)—the point is i was just experimenting a lot and trying a lot of stuff, which meant i was getting comfortable with thinking of software as not just some immutable relic, but something you can touch and prod in unexpected ways.

this dovetails into the next thing, which is like, just learn a lot of stuff. a boring conventional computer science degree will teach you a lot (provided you take it seriously and actually try to learn shit); alternatively, just taking the same classes as a boring conventional computer science degree, via edX or whatever free online thingy, will also teach you a lot. ("contributing to open source" also teaches you a lot but... hngh... is a whole can of worms; send a follow-up ask if you want that rant.)

here's where i should note that "hacking" is an impossibly broad category: the kind of person who knows how to fuck with website authentication tokens is very different than someone who writes a fuzzer, who is often quite different than someone who looks at the bug a fuzzer produces and actually writes a program that can exploit that bug... so what you focus on depends on what you're interested in. i imagine classes with names like "compilers," "operating systems," and "networking" will teach you a lot. but, like, idk, all knowledge is god-breathed and good for teaching. hell, i hear some universities these days have actual computer security classes? that's probably a good thing to look at, just to get a sense of what's out there, if you already know how to program.

also be comfortable with not knowing everything, but also, learn as you go. the bulk of my security knowledge came when i got kinda airdropped into a work team that basically hired me entirely on "potential" (lmao), and uh, prior to joining i only had the faintest idea what a hypervisor was? or the whole protection ring concept? or ioctls or sandboxing or threat models or, fuck, anything? i mostly just pestered people with like 800 questions and slowly built up a knowledge base, and remember being surprised & delighted when i went to a security conference a year later and could follow most of the talks, and when i wound up at a bar with a guy on the xbox security team and we compared our security models a bunch, and so on.  there wasn't a magic moment when i "got it", i was just like, "okay huh this dude says he found a ring-0 exploit... what does that mean... okay i think i got that... why is that a big deal though... better ask somebody.." (also: reading an occasional dead tree book is a good idea. i owe my firstborn to Robert Love's Linux Kernel Development, as outdated as it is, and also O'Reilly's kookaburra book gave me a great overview of web programming back in the day, etc.  you can learn a lot by just clicking around random blogs, but you’ll often end up with a lot of random little facts and no good mental scaffolding for holding it together; often, a decent book will give you that scaffolding.)

(also, it's pretty useful if you can find a knowledgable someone to pepper with random questions as you go. finding someone who will actively mentor you is tricky, but most working computery folks are happy to tell you things like "what you're doing is actually impossible, here's why," or "here's a tutorial someone told me was good for learning how to write a linux kernel module," or "here's my vague understanding of this concept you know nothing about," or "here's how you automate something to click on a link on a webpage," which tends to be handier than just google on its own.)

if you're reading this and you're like "ok cool but where's the part where i'm handed a computer and i gotta break in while going all hacker typer”—that's not the bulk of the work, alas! like, for sure, we do have fun pranking each other by trying dumb ways of stealing each other's passwords or whatever (once i stuck a keylogger in a dude's keyboard, fun times). but a lot of my security jobs have involved stuff like, "stare at this disassembly a long fuckin' time to figure out how the program pointer got all fucked up," or, "write a fuzzer that feeds a lot of randomized input to some C++ program, watch the program crash because C++ is a horrible language for writing software, go fix all the bugs," or "think Really Hard TM about all the settings and doohickeys this OS/GPU/whatever has, think about all the awful things someone could do with it, threat model and sandbox accordingly." occasionally i have done cool proof-of-concept hacks but honestly writing exploits can kinda be tedious, lol, so like, i'm only doing that if it's the only way i can get people to believe that Yes This Is Actually A Problem, Fix Your Code

"lua that's cool and all but i wanted, like, actual links and recommendations and stuff" okay, fair. here's some ideas:

microcorruption: very fun embedded security CTF; teaches you everything you need to know as you're doing it.

cryptopals crypto challenges: very fun little programming exercises that teach you a lot of fundamental cryptography concepts as you're going along! you can do these even as a bit of a n00b; i did them in Python for the lulz

the binary bomb lab is hilariously copied by, like, so many CS programs, lol, but for good reason. it's accessible and fun and is the first time most people get to feel like a real hacker! (requires you know a bit of C beforehand)

ctftime is a good way to see when new CTFs ("capture the flag"s; security-focused competitions) are coming up. or, sometimes CTFs post their source code, so you can continue trying them after the CTF is over. i liked Stripe's CTFs when they were going, because they focused on "web stuff", and "web stuff" was all i really knew at the time. if you're more interested in staring at disassembly, there's CTFs focused on that sort of thing too.

azeria has good ARM assembly & exploitation tutorials

also, like, lots of good talks out there; just watching defcon/cansecwest/etc talks until something piques your interest is very fun. i'd die on a battlefield for any of Christopher Domas's talks, but he assumes a lot of specific x86/OS knowledge, lol, so maybe don’t start with that. oh, Julia Evans's blog is honestly probably pretty good for just learning a lot of stuff and really beginner-friendly?

oh and wrt legality... idk, i haven't addressed it here since it hasn't come up in my own work much, tbh. if you're just getting started you're kind of unlikely to Break The Law without, y'know, realizing maybe you're doing something a bit gray-area? and you can cross that bridge when you come to it? Real Hacking TM is way more of a pain-in-the-ass than doing CTFs and such, and you'll learn way more with the latter, so who cares lol just do the fun thing

[gaming]

Indie Game Spotlight: Cuphead

Grab a friend and dive into this week’s Indie Game Spotlight with one of Tumblr’s favorites, Cuphead! Cuphead is a run and gun action game with a big focus on boss battles! Playing as brothers (and best pals) Cuphead and Mugman, you travel the colorful Inkwell Isles, taking on massive transforming bosses that often fill the whole screen, and trying to defeat them to collect soul contracts that you need in order to pay back your debt to The Devil. The game, deeply inspired by the Moldenhauer brothers' love of video games from the ‘80s and ‘90s and classic 1930s cartoons, was created using the authentic techniques of the era—2D hand animation on paper, watercolor painting, and orchestral big-band jazz music!

We spoke with Chad Moldenhauer (Studio MDHR Co-Director and Cuphead Art Director) and Jared Moldenhauer (Studio MDHR Co-Director and Cuphead Lead Designer) about the inspiration for the game, working with family, and their upcoming Netflix show! Read on!

How did the experience of playing co-op games together as kids shape Cuphead?

Chad: I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Cuphead wouldn’t exist without the experiences Jared and I had playing co-op games together growing up. When we started talking seriously about making a game together, we immediately gravitated to our memories of playing tough-as-nails run and gun titles with one another or passing the controller back and forth to beat a particularly hard section in our favorite platformers. These memories solidified for us that we wanted to make a game that paid homage to that kind of shared experience. And then, of course, throughout all of the development, we drew on our love of these games for the art and design of Cuphead—they helped shape everything from attack patterns and boss transformations to easter eggs strewn throughout the game. It’s so gratifying to hear from players about the fun they’ve had playing Cuphead with a friend or family member; to have had a small part in the kinds of memories that fuelled the game’s creation.

Fun fact: the reason the more adventurous and headstrong Cuphead is P1, and the younger, more easygoing Mugman is P2, directly relates to the memories Jared and I have playing co-op games together. As with many older brothers during that era of gaming, I always had (and used!) veto power to ensure that I was player 1, while Jared had to accept his “younger brother” fate as player 2! 

How has it been, working with family on the game? Do you have any advice for indie game developers who want to create games with their friends or family?

Chad: It’s hard to give one-size-fits-all advice because everyone’s story is different. In our case, making a game was something we wanted to do from a very early age, and I think the knowledge that we were working on something we both cared deeply about carried us through a lot of the tougher parts of developing the game. It’s especially crucial to make sure you’re going into it with a clear idea of the potential difficulties of working with family or close friends. We love what we do and we feel deeply lucky to be doing it, but sometimes it can be all-consuming. For example, Jared flew in not too long ago to surprise me for my birthday, and somehow work still managed to be a big focus of the trip. It’s definitely the kind of thing that will change the way you think about “family time” and that’s important to know going in!

Since the Nintendo Switch port in April, how has it felt to see the Cuphead community grow?

Jared: We’ve really been blown away by the warm reception and positive feedback for Cuphead from Nintendo Switch players. For Chad and me, the chance to even bring the game to a system made by a company that we grew up so reverent of was really a dream come true. I think we’ve said it before, but we owe so much to early Nintendo classics like Contra on NES and Super Mario World on the SNES.

Watching players connect with the game on a system like the Nintendo Switch, where they can take it on the go and experience it in new ways, has been wonderful. I think the most humbling sentiment of all so far has been hearing some people say that playing Cuphead together has brought back memories of their first gaming experiences with siblings on the NES and SNES. That’s such a full-circle thing to hear, and truly an honor.

Congratulations to the team for getting a Netflix show! How involved is the team in that new project?

Chad: Thank you so much! The idea that Cuphead will now be a cartoon is wild to us, especially since the game is also influenced by the cartoons of the 1930s! We couldn’t have dreamed of anything like this when we started out, and we’re really excited to see the world of the Inkwell Isles through a new lens. We’ve mostly been working with the team at Netflix to help them get a sense of how we see the characters and the world they live in. With that said, veteran showrunners Dave Wasson and Cosmo Segurson are heading the team, and we’re constantly floored by the group they’ve assembled—from storyboard artists to writers to concept designers. We think fans and newcomers alike will be really impressed when they see what the team at Netflix has been creating.

What has been the most interesting thing to come out of creating Cuphead?

Chad: We’ve been so lucky to have the game reach some people we greatly look up to and admire. From getting the opportunity to work with legendary animator James Baxter at E3 in 2018 to collaborating with Todd McFarlane and his team on the creation of our recent Construction Kit toys, we’ve had some very surreal experiences thanks to Cuphead!

With that said, the most humbling thing has been seeing players connect with the game, and realizing how much support there is out there for 2D hand-animated content. Any time we receive fan art, or a note from a player telling us about a special experience they've had with the game, it really solidifies why we do what we do.

Are you itching to know more? Head over to the website to find out where to get the game, as well as its upcoming expansion, The Delicious Last Course, which will include a brand new Isle full of boss challenges, weapons, and charms to earn, as well as a new playable character—Ms. Chalice! It’s due out in 2020 on all platforms on which Cuphead is available. 

[creepynoodleheadcannons]

Seven Deadly Sins, Domesticated

Prompt: You’ve inherited a house from a family member, moving in knowing you’ll have to sell it. Spirits reflecting the 7 deadly sins haunt the house, helping you get back on your feet.

Warning-swearing, suggestive themes, eventually smut

You’ll know them when you see them.

My eyes scanned the house, a box set in my hands. I didn’t exactly intend on moving after I had lived in the same apartment for two years, but hey, take what you can get, right? After stepping inside, I immediately regretted my decision. The house was probably as old as the town itself. Everything had an antique look to it, a wooden staircase winding up to the second floor. The bills on this house must be ridiculous. I had already signed on the place, there wasn’t any turning back. I set the box down, sighing. “Home sweet home, I guess.” My voice rang through the foyer, bouncing off the walls. As if I wasn’t lonely enough before. I stepped back outside, heading for my car. It didn’t take long to unpack, considering I didn’t own much. What took the most time was setting up my studio. I chose the room next to my bedroom, putting up the easel and setting down plastic. The small amount of paint I did own I set up on the desk inside the room, sectioning everything off to my liking. I walked through the house, admiring what was now mine. Well, before I had to sell it. God knows I wouldn’t be able to pay for this once I crashed out of my job again. I spent most of the night awake. I felt like something else was in the house with me. It could’ve just been mice, or the air conditioner was on high, but something felt off. Hey, creepy house, when I said I wish there was someone else with me, that was rhetorical, not a request.

I spent the next day getting rid of boxes, cleaning off counter-tops, and grocery shopping with what little money I had for it. Once I got home from the local market, I started putting groceries away. Ever since I graduated college, I haven’t lived in a place this nice. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever lived somewhere this nice. Either way, I wouldn’t be here long. I can’t pay the bills unless I get a better job, which won’t happen unless my art goes somewhere, which won’t happen because my art isn’t that good. I had to restrain myself from throwing an apple through the window. “Woah, calm down. Take a break, why don’t you? You deserve it. Moving is pretty tough.” “You’re right, I need to calm down-“ Wait. I turned on my heels, glancing around the empty kitchen. “Who-okay, you’re working yourself up, you’re hearing shit. Calm down Y/n.” I took a few deep breaths, leaning against the counter. “Exactly. Take a break.” I turned towards the person beside me, or rather the thing beside me. A guy was sitting on my counter, leaning on the cabinets. His black hair was pulled into a bun, grey skin surrounding his glowing golden eyes. “Who the fuck-how did you get into my house?” The guy had an apple in his hands, taking a rather loud bite. “That’s easy. I never left.” His words were muffled by his obnoxious chewing. I reached for a knife, earning a laugh from him. His deep, smooth voice wait more relaxed than I expected. “A knife? Really? If I wanted to kill you that definitely wouldn’t stop me. Now relax, I’m just telling you to take a fucking break.” “You-you broke into my house! You expect me to relax?!” He rolled his eyes, taking yet another bite from the apple I bought. “I didn’t break in, I was here even before you moved in. Take a chill pill, damn.” I set the knife down, glancing around the kitchen. “Who…who the hell are you?” “I’m John, but you can call me puppet if you’d like.” He tossed the apple core towards the opened trash can, surprisingly making it. “Now then, go relax. You’ve been working all day. You deserve a break.” “Okay, first of all weird guy who’s convinced he lives here, I need to get this done. And second of all, who the fuck do you think you are?” He laughed again, reaching for another apple. I slapped his hand away, crossing my arms. “Answer.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m dead, sweetheart.”

I laughed. I doubled over giggling. “That’s cute. Now really, what the fuck are you doing here?” “You think I’m kidding? Go ahead, stab me with that knife of yours. It’ll go right through.” I smiled, shrugging. “If you’re certain, John.” Still laughing, I shoved the kitchen knife towards him, expecting him to stop me just before it hit him. He didn’t. It went through his fucking chest, dropping onto the counter space behind him. This was too fucking freaky. “Okay, what the fuck was that?” “You thought I was lying? You really need a nap, whatever your name is.” I backed out of the kitchen, dashing for the bathroom down the hall. No, this was some crazy fever dream. I was sick. Yeah, I’d been too stressed lately. I need a nap. I need a long nap. I splashed some cold water on my face, regaining my composure. I’d walk back into the kitchen, and that guy would be gone. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen, seeing an empty room. A sigh escaped my lips, a weight lifting from my chest. “See? You’re fine.” I finished putting up groceries. As I was about to leave the room, I noticed an apple core next to the trash can, joining the one inside.

Okay, a nap is definitely a necessity. Once I woke up on the couch, everything seemed to be in order. I stepped towards the window, setting my hand on the glass. Apparently, I had slept past the sunset. Street lamps provided little illumination. One of my neighbors pulled up into their drive across the street, the lights on their Cadillac flashing. They lit up the dark street for a moment, fading just as fast. My eyes weren’t set on the person, rather the car. Pressure flooded my chest as I looked at the brand mark. “That’s a damn nice car, much better than yours. They really don’t deserve it, you could take it once they go inside.” It was a different voice this time. Deeper. I turned my head to see yet another person standing beside me, this one a bit shorter. His brown hair was messily framing his face, amber eyes set on the car across the street. I swung my fist to meet his nose, which surprisingly made contact. “Ow! What the-the hell man!” He had a stutter, hands covering his face. “You’re not…” “yeah, I wasn’t ex-expecting it so of course it hurt, what’s your problem?” His shoulders jerked, hands lowering. He had a bandage over his cheek, covering god knows what. “How did you get in my house?” “I thought Puppet already explained! I’ve been h-here!” He seemed decently pissed, wiping a bit of blood on his sleeve. “My name’s Toby, but I’m assuming you’re just going to hit me again r-regardless of knowing my-my name.” That was a dream, this was a dream. I was still sleeping. This wasn’t happening. “I don’t know what your problem is, I was j-just offering a solution. I hate t-to tell you, but your car is-is shit.” I looked at the window. They say you can’t see your reflection in a dream. My exasperated face was staring right back at me. Goddamnit. I backed up, fingertips grazing the wall. “You’re…you’re…” “dead? Yeah, thanks for-for noticing. You’re polite.” He rolled his eyes, glancing down at me. “You know, most people just scream. You didn’t have to-to hit me!” “I’m sorry, I don’t exactly take kindly to people breaking into my house!” “I didn’t fucking break in! I’ve been here! Fine-fine, enjoy you’re s-shit car, don’t t-take my advice.” He stormed off, leaving me by the window. I made sure to lock the door once I went to sleep. I didn’t want anyone busting in, or anything. Considering I’d just dealt with two, things, who freaked me out, I didn’t sleep that much. Which definitely didn’t help with work. I stumbled through the day, making an attempt to greet people as best I could. The more tips I got, the more I could save up to buy a studio apartment uptown and closer to art shows.

Everything just got worse. I stormed inside, throwing my apron on the couch. “Bullshit. It’s all bullshit!” All I asked for was one day off. One day! Just one, so I could go to my art show and, I don’t know, make some fucking money! But no, she had some stupid movie her kids wanted to see, which she could obviously see the next day when I would cover, but she demanded it be that Friday. As if she had room to demand anything. “She doesn’t need to see it, I have an art show! Something that’s actually worth missing a day, an she’s getting paid for it!” I knew I was yelling into the house, but I didn’t find myself caring. “Call your boss and get the day off, she doesn’t need shit!” “You’re right!” Yet again, a different voice. This time, it was a guy who was between the last two in height. His thick black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, two red scars stretching across his pale cheeks to form a sort of smile. At this point, I didn’t have the energy to be worried, or to even be freaked out. I wanted my fucking day off. “Hey random guy who probably lives here too, I’m fucking busy.” “And I’m trying to help. Call your boss, get your fucking day off.” “Honestly, you deserve it more than she does. I’d listen to the smiley fuck.” Toby was back. Great. “You know what? I will!” I pulled my phone out, quickly dialing my boss. “Hello?” “Hi Janine, it’s Y/n. I was calling to talk to you about taking next Friday off.” I tried to restrain the anger boiling beneath my skin. “Well, we’ve already discussed that Lacey has that day off for her kids.” “I have an art show that Friday, and I’m afraid I can’t miss it. I’ve already paid for my ticket in, and for the display wall. I’ve made reservations weeks in advance, and this isn’t just some movie. I’ll even take the weekend, but I need that Friday. This is the last show this month, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford the next one.” I took a second to breathe, suppressing my obviously pissed tone. The two guys were sitting on the furniture, gazing at me expectantly. “Well…I’ll move the schedule around so you have the day off. Thank you for telling me.” “It’s no problem Janice. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Bye Y/n.” I hung up, sighing heavily. “Thank fucking god.” The pale guy grinned even wider, his hoarse voice responding. “See? Why be passive when you can take what you fucking want? Sorry, forgot the introduction. Call me Jeff.” I nodded, collapsing onto the couch. “You a dead leech too?” “I guess you could say that.” “Whatever, just don’t eat all of my apples like that other guy.” I sat in my studio, eyes locked on the colored canvas in front of me. It looked wrong. The colors were too bright, offsetting the focal point. “This isn’t good. This is awful. This is awful! I’m not going to sell shit next Friday.” “Bullshit, it’s amazing. I don’t see why anyone wouldn’t want to buy this.” A calmer voice. The guy stood behind me, his hair swept back. His hands were in his blue jacket pockets, a relaxed grin on his face. “I like it. It’s a nice contrast. And your art is amazing, who wouldn’t want it in their house?” For once, a nice dead guy. “Thanks I guess, but I don’t need false hope. I don’t know if I have time to redo it, the show is in a week.” “And? You don’t need to. It’s perfect the way it is.” After a moment, I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is pretty nice. It could sell.” “It will sell.” He set a cold hand on my shoulder, his voice softer than the others. “Helen. Nice to meet you Y/n. Don’t forget to sign it.” The following night, I left the door agape. I wasn’t so worried about anyone coming in. I was decently clothed, and they already lived here. Why worry? Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

[imaginezimbits]

Plzzzzzz pt3 of zimbits football!!!!! I love your writing!! It's soOOOOO GOOOOD!

Ask and you shall receive (eeeeeventually!)Read it on AO3

“Y’all go on and get now, I have orientation in the morning,” Eric scolded the lumbering football players clogging up his teeny dorm room.  His roommate, a perfectly nice seeming boy from Oregon, had disappeared shortly after the team’s arrival, and Eric couldn’t blame him.

“Fuck orientation,” Holster dismissed.  “You’ve been chilling with us for a year, what more do you need to know about the college experience?”  Eric put his hands on his hips.

“Maybe some people from my actual class?”

“Pft, whatever.  Rans and Shitty are gonna be in school forever with their majors; you’ll have plenty of people to do senior year with.”  Ransom made himself comfortable with Shitty on Eric’s bed.

“That’s right, brah,” Shitty agreed, welcoming the snuggles.  “You’ll never be rid of us.”

“Graduation is a myth,” Ransom added gravely.  “And bro, you can make all the friends you want.  You’re a freshman with invites already lined up for the sickest kegsters of the year.”

“If you do say so yourself,” Eric huffed.  “I admit, you boys make a strong argument, but I shudder to think what your fearless leader has to say about y’all encouraging me to shirk responsibility like this.”  He turned to the man in question only to find him twisting back and forth in the desk chair, nibbling on one of the peanut butter cookies Mrs. Bittle had sent to thank the boys for carrying all of “Dicky’s” boxes.

“Um.”  Jack looked between his friends, who were watching him expectantly.  He swallowed.  “Well, I mean, I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out tomorrow since it’s the last day before classes.”

“Jack!” Eric cried over the boys’ boisterous cheers.  “You’re supposed to be the responsible adult here!”  Jack shrugged, tiny smile playing at his lips and winning Eric over easily.

“Well…they really don’t teach you anything useful…”

“So you figure you can talk me into another day of nonsense with this lot?”

“Was kinda hoping.”

“Well I suppose I could be persuaded to give up an afternoon of icebreakers and forced socialization.”

“Good.  I hear Annie’s has their Pumpkin Spice Lattes out early this year.  And the art theater is screening Goonies, so we were thinking of hitting that too.”

“How can I say no to that then?”

“Just meet us at the Haus at eleven tomorrow.”

“I’ll come at ten and we’ll make breakfast.”

“Deal.”  Eric nodded.  “Alright boys,” Jack said to the room at large, “let’s clear out, we scared Bittle’s roommate out long enough.” The boys all stood and followed Jack to the door, leaving Eric with hair ruffles and back pats.  Jack held his hand in a wave as he followed the end of the parade into the hallway, closing the door behind them.  Eric sat down hard on the bed, grinning broadly.

“Eric Richard Bittle, what on Earth do you mean you don’t know what happened at orientation?” Mrs. Bittle demanded over dinner - she’d made her son’s favorites to lure him home for a meal to extract details.  Eric stopped picking at his mashed potatoes and exchanged a panicked glance with his father over the rim of the sweet tea glass Coach was using to avoid having to chime in.

“Uh…Jack said it’s stupid?  And the guys were going to see Goonies?”

“Jack said, hmm?  And I suppose if Jack Zimmermann jumped off a bridge you might think that sounds mighty fine too?”  Coach put his glass down.

“Suzie,” he said, laying a gentle hand over hers and giving her a significant look.  Eric saw the realization dawn on his mother’s face, could practically hear the unspoken “breakdown” that hung in the air, but what was actually said was, “Jack is a responsible young man.  I think he and Junior’s other friends will see to it that he isn’t completely lost.”  Suzanne sighed.

“I suppose.  But Dicky, don’t you dare make a habit of skipping out on your responsibilities.”

“I promise, Mama, I will stay right on top of everything.”

And he did.  Between the Haus study group and the relative simplicity of his first semester classes, Eric was able to keep up with his studies.  Until the Midterms Kool-down Kegster, when, happily situated on top of one of the hockey players in the frat next door to the Haus, he remembered.

“Oh fuck!”  he sat up abruptly, hair askew and shirt rucked up.

“Dude, already?” the hockey bro asked, eyebrow raised.

“I have a paper due tomorrow,” Eric explained, already starting to extricate himself from the bed.

“Oh dude, that sucks the big one.”

“Sorry.  I uh, had fun?” Eric patted at the tuft of hair sticking up on the back of his head.

“Yeah, was good for me too,” the guy said blandly, already reaching into his pants.  By the time Eric was across the room pulling the door shut, hockey bro’s dick was out, his head flopped back against the pillow, as if Eric had never been there at all.  Well then, glad he’s not too heartbroken, he thought to himself and trudged down the stairs.

He stood outside the hockey house, staring at the Haus and feeling the street vibrate beneath his sneakers.  The party ball hastily duct taped to the living room ceiling lit the windows in a flashing array of rainbow.  The only light from upstairs came from Jack’s room.  His fingers slid across his phone screen before the decision was fully formed.

“Allo?”  The distracted greeting said Jack probably hadn’t checked his caller I.D.

“Hi Jack.” Eric paused.  “It’s Eric.”

“You don’t say.”

“I just did.”

“Are you okay?  Need me to come get you?”

“I’m okay.  Except I just remembered I forgot to write my paper for American History.”

“Bittle, it’s two a.m.”

“I am aware.  Jack, I just left mid-hookup for this, if you know anything at all about U.S. history, please come help me, otherwise fuck my grade I’m going back upstairs.”  The exasperated sigh was a protracted burst of static in his ear, but Jack relented.

“Okay, give me five to find my notebooks and some pants.  And know that you definitely owe me a batch of those homemade granola bars.”

“Anything.”

“Five minutes,” Jack promised, then promptly hung up.  

When he saw the light in Jack’s room go out, Eric stood up from the porch steps where he had been waiting.  It took another few minutes before the front door of the Haus opened to reveal Jack, backpack slung over his shoulder.  They met in the middle of the street and Jack gave a tired but fond grin in response to Eric’s grateful smile, and in mutual silent agreement, they made for Eric’s dorm.

The room was empty, so Eric texted his roommate that he’d gotten home okay and wished him a fun night when the roommate said, “Enjoy, see you after breakfast ;)”

“Well, looks like we got the place to ourselves for the duration,” Eric told Jack, trying not to sound like he could think of much better reasons than this stupid paper for him to want Jack alone.

“Good.” Jack made himself comfortable on Eric’s bed, kicking off his shoes and getting his notes and laptop set up.  “I brought reading to do while you’re writing, but I’ll help you outline and edit.”

“You are a saint.”

“I am an insomniac.  Believe me, this is going to be just as good for my sanity as yours.”

“Well alrighty, I guess I won’t feel too bad.”

“I still expect granola bars.” Jack winked.  Eric’s face burned, but he just focused on getting a blank document ready to go.  “So what’s this paper on, eh?”

“I have to write a few pages on a New Deal program and its immediate and long-term effects.”

As luck would have it, Jack knew a lot about the New Deal.  And he had more than enough feelings about it for Eric to pick a thesis.  Jack flipped his notebook open to a page covered in messy, blocky print, turned it towards Eric, and laughed at his horrified expression.

“What?”

“This is completely illegible,” Eric complained.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Really Jack, is this how your brain works?  Because if so, I have to say, I’m a mite concerned.”

“At least I have notes, Bittle.”  Jack gestured at the blank document on the screen.  “Is this how your brain works?  Because if so, I have to say, I’m a mite concerned,” he mimicked.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, let me live,” he huffed, flopping over onto the comforter, taking the laptop with him.  Curled on his side with the computer, Eric started filling in the heading and basic title of his paper and jotting down a few of the points Jack had made into a quick outline.  He’d started sorting through JSTOR to find the shortest relevant articles possible, figuring Jack had disappeared into his own corner of peer-reviewed purgatory, when the bed shifted under him and a warm weight pressed along his back.  It was Jack, and Eric almost jumped out of his damn skin because Jack had spooned up right behind him, chin hooked over his shoulder and arm flopping down over his abdomen.  

“How’s it going?” Jack’s breath tickled as it blew over Eric’s skin, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through Eric’s ribs.

“It’s…happening.  Slowly.  But I don’t think I’ll flunk.”  Jack nodded, chin digging a little uncomfortably into Eric’s shoulder.

“Yeah, this is looking pretty good.”  He figured Jack would let go and return to his reading, but he stayed wrapped around Eric.

“How’s your reading coming there?” he asked teasingly.

“Done.”

“Already?”

“I did start it at a decent hour.  That is possible.”

“Hmmm…sounds fake.” Eric could feel gentle laughter at his back.  Well…looks like this is just his life right now.  He went back to writing, struggling to get all of the bullet-points in his outline put into coherent sentences.  For a minute, he blanked out, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen.  He was tired and warm, and he could feel his eyelids drooping.  And then Jack  spoke up.

“Created the infrastructure necessary for the rapid development of industry during the war boom of the early forties?”  Eric physically shook off his exhaustion.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, just…where you were going with that sentence.  You could say ‘In addition to the immediate economic relief and placation of the anxious, unemployed masses, the formation of the WPA created the infrastructure necessary for the rapid development of industry during the war boom of the early forties.’”

“Oh.  Thanks, that’s really good.”

“Not my first rodeo.”  Eric typed in the end of the sentence, and getting past that block gave him the burst he needed to get the rest of the paper out, Jack proofreading as he went, keeping himself tucked close throughout.  At some point, he caught part of Eric’s hoodie in his fingers, idly rubbing at the soft fabric.  Eric didn’t realize that there was such a soft side to Jack.  He knew he was kind, one of the most loyal and dedicated friends he’d ever had, but compared to the rest of the group they hung out with, he’d never been up for all of the casual cuddling (aside from Shitty trapping him in a bear hug).  This gentle, sleepy Jack was incredibly endearing, and Eric’s chest felt warm and tight.

He put the finishing touches on the essay around three thirty.  After saving the document about five times and promptly sending it to the print queue, he closed the laptop with a satisfying “slap,” and turned to look over his shoulder at Jack, only to find him fast asleep.  Exhausted and resigned, Eric just wiggled carefully out of Jack’s arms and trudged off to the bathroom to brush his teeth.  While tugging on his pajamas, he briefly contemplated sleeping in his roommate’s bed, but upon realizing he didn’t really know how clean the guy was and feeling like it would be…cold - a rejection of this intimacy Jack offered, he lay back down and pulled a blanket over them both.

Eric expected to sleep terribly, to lie awake staring at the ceiling until the sun came up, Jack woke, and he was inevitably left with the uncomfortable silence and an empty bed.  Instead, he slept the best he had since coming to college.  The bed was warm and, completely relaxed, Jack was actually very soft to snuggle against.  Eric’s breaths unconsciously synched with Jack’s, his eyes got heavy, and the next thing he knew, the sun was streaming in from the single window.

He stretched, joints popping pleasantly.  And then his foot brushed a leg, and all of a sudden, he snapped back to the moment and felt fully Jack pressed up behind him.  He startled just enough to jostle the bed, and his heart skittered in his chest as Jack stirred. The arm around his waist tightened momentarily, and a soft groan escaped Jack as he woke fully.  The sound shocked down Eric’s spine and oh god, he was actually going to die.  In some twist of cosmic mercy, Jack wasn’t sporting morning wood - that would be the actual death of him.

“Oh.  Hey.”  Jack’s breath ghosted over Eric’s neck, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he could compose his voice enough to get out,

“Morning.”  Jack stretched again, and the movement pushed them closer.

“Morning.  I didn’t ruin your sleep, did I?”  He looked so genuinely concerned Eric couldn’t let him be uncomfortable.

“You didn’t make a peep,” he said, because he couldn’t quite admit just how much Jack didn’t ruin his sleep.  

“Okay.”  They lay in silence for another minute, unsure of how to act normally now that they were both lucid.  Eric was about to roll over and see if Jack just passed back out when their phones buzzed simultaneously, the group chat lighting up with all the dirt and surreptitiously taken pictures of shame.  It gave them something appropriate to do with their hands and something safe to talk about.  Lying next to each other, they made fun of their friends’ questionable-at-best choices - Holster making out with his ex, Esther (again), Ransom instigating body shots, Shitty’s general personality.  The best chirps got sent to the group chat, but mostly they were just giggling to themselves and speaking in broken sentences as they realized they were nowhere near the losers of this week’s morning after.  Jack even went as far as to say,

“I think I definitely chose the best place to wake up today.”  And even though Eric knew how Jack really meant that, his brain couldn’t really switch off the nagging curiosity of what could be if Jack thought differently - was different.

The chat died back down after a while, everyone either going out in search of food or back to sleep.  Jack locked his phone back up, let out a final stretch-and-groan, and asked,

“Wanna hit Commons?  I’m getting pretty hungry.”  Eric took the out and agreed, hopping out of bed and shucking out of his pajamas.  He tried not to imagine Jack’s eyes on him as he dressed.  When he turned around, Jack was idly thumbing through his textbook.

“You ready?” Jack looked back up.

“Oh.  Yeah, let’s go.”

At Commons, Jack and Eric split up - Jack to the omelette bar, Eric to the buffet.  He loaded his plate with a pile of french toast sticks and homefries, drowning the whole thing in the watered-down fake syrup in the vat at the end of the line.  Jack sidled up behind him, and in lieu of greeting said,

“You should eat more protein.”  Eric jumped, flushed, and finally defended his breakfast.

“I am a figure skater, I need energy.  If I become some muscle-brained jock-head I won’t be able to get any lift to my jumps.”

“Hey, a muscle-brained jock-head just saved your grade.”

“I’m just sayin’, don’t go mocking my diet plan - I get results.”

Jack conceded the point then, and sat down with his heap of egg whites and spinach, tucking in with one last glance at Eric’s plate that fell between longing and dismay.  Looking at the man himself, Eric could relate.  Jack was sweet and smart and handsome, and whenever Eric had brought Philip to hang out with the guys, he hadn’t batted an eye, just chatted as politely as Jack ever managed about college plans and books they were reading.  He was exactly the kind of friend he’d dreamed of having in Georgia.  If he was being completely honest with himself, Jack was the kind of boyfriend he’d dreamed of.  But there be dragons.

Because for all that he went to a super-queer liberal arts college and might accidentally minor in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, Jack Zimmermann seemed as straight as an arrow shaft.  And even if he did like men, he was older and played football and drank horrific concoctions that contained lots of kale and protein powder.  There was no way Eric would be remotely his type.  Eric could feel himself getting maudlin, so he shook himself and took a sip of coffee to ground himself.

“Falling asleep there Bittle?”  Jack asked, smirking over his orange juice.

“I don’t know how in the hell you’re even awake right now,” he covered.

“I did get a little extra sleep,” Jack reminded him, and god did he not need to be reminded of Jack falling asleep spooned up against him.

“That’s right,  you abandoned me,” Eric teased.

“I did not,” he objected.  “I was there the whole time.”

“And what’s your alibi, the drool patch on the back of my shirt?”

“I do not drool!”  This came out louder than Jack had probably meant for and they got a couple of looks.  “Do not!” Jack whispered forcefully, leaning across the table.

“Do too!” Eric whispered back, leaning in as well.  Their faces were inches apart, and Eric had to fight to keep his face from softening.  In the end he couldn’t quite manage it after Jack reached up to wipe a smear of syrup from his cheek, the pad of it rough and warm on Eric’s face, and then licked the syrup off like it was nothing.  And then made an exaggeratedly offended expression at how ludicrously fake it tasted.  

Eric hated his life.  Before he could do anything stupid, he leaned back into his own space and returned to his breakfast.

The dining hall offerings were meager enough that Eric texted his mother to say he was coming over for dinner and did she need anything from the store.  She told him to grab eggs and some greens for a salad and “I’m thinking I’ll do brownies for dessert.  Maybe you can pick up some ice cream to put on top.”  Eric didn’t miss what a loaded statement that was.  His mama thought brownies were just about the lowest a baked good could sink.  Tiny batches, an inelegant slop of batter waiting in a pan, and finicky to make to boot.  But they were Coach’s favorite comfort food, hot and sticky fresh out of the oven, a scoop of ice cream melting over top.

“What’s wrong with Coach?” he asked.  Mama sighed.

“I don’t know, baby.  He was just in a rotten mood when he came home from practice.  He was real quiet, just took a beer and a puddin’ cup back to his study.”

“I wonder what happened,” Eric murmured, thinking briefly of Jack and wondering if he was upset too.  He clicked away from the call to his messaging window and sent off a quick text to Jack.  Coach is in a mood.  You alright?  There was no reply bubbles, but he hadn’t expected a prompt reply.  Instead of waiting to hear back, he wrapped up the call with Mama and headed off to the Stop & Shop.  

Back at the house, he set the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table and started rifling through for the greens to get started on the salad.  

“Thank you, baby,” Mama said, brushing a hand across his back as she passed behind.  “I know you’re just on the other side of town, but I do miss having you around.”  He laughs, but tucks his chin over her shoulder on his way to get tongs, promising,

“I miss you too.”  

They had everything set out on the table in a few minutes, and Suzanne hollered “Riiiichard!  Diiiiner!” towards the back of the house.  Coach joined them a moment later, dropping into his seat at the head of the table with a grunt that sounded more pained than ill-tempered.  He complimented Suzanne on dinner and asked “Junior” how his classes were going as always, and between bites, Eric and his mama traded glances.

Neither of them dared ask about practice until the brownies were cut and ice cream scooped.  Only then did Suzanne clear her throat and and ask, “So sweetheart, how was practice?”  Eric shoved a large spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, anticipating a long-winded speech about whatever the boys had done to piss him off.  Instead, Coach looked a little awkward and addressed Eric.

“Well, funny enough, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Oh?”  Eric’s ind raced, frantically trying to recall if he’d played a part in any activities that could’ve affected the boys’ game.  “Well fire away.”

“It’s - it’s a favor - a biggun, and you can say no.”

“Okay…Daddy, you’re makin me nervous.”

“Sorry, sorry.  Uh, well, you know how our backup kicker has been on leave with mono?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it seems our starting kicker busted his ankle playing soccer.”

“Oh…So you want me to…”

“Fill in, yeah.”

“Coach…”

“I know.  I said it was big.  And I can see about pulling one of the boys from fourth string, but you’ve got a good leg and you know the team.”

“Richard,” Suzanne warned.

“And kickers hardly ever get tackled,” he promised.

“Richard, that’s enough,” Suzanne said again, firmer.  Eric was silent for a moment, staring at his father.  Things were different now than they were in Georgia, he knew this.  He had his father’s support, the boys knew he was gay and didn’t make an ordeal of it - a few of them were even queer too.  The only thing that really bothered him still was the idea of being tackled, but the fact that Ransom and Holster would be his defense…

“I’ll do it.”

“You will?”  Both his parents sounded shocked, but a grin was breaking out from under Coach’s moustache.  Meanwhile ama looked like she’d swallowed a frog.  

“Dicky, you know you don’t have to, right?  Not if this is gonna bring your problem back.”

“I’m not gonna faint, Mama,” he told her, trying not to sound irritated.  “You’re not supposed to even touch the kicker, and besides…” Eric looked at his father.  “I wanna help the team.”  Coach nodded, beaming.

“Practice is at 3:30 tomorrow.  We’ll get you out there and see if you’re comfortable, and if all goes well, we’ll play you Friday.”

“I’ll be there,” Eric promised.

“Thank you,” Coach said.  “I can’t tell you how much it means that you’re even willing to try.”  Eric nods at his father, but when he stands to clear the table, he’s engulfed in a bear hug.  He squeezes his eyes shut and reminds himself that his father is already proud of him.  This is just icing on the cake.

[mischievously-playful-twins]

Warmth. Crash felt a warmth as if sunlight was shining on him, A softness was underneath him, and everything was dark. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was on the couch in the living room. He didn’t remember falling asleep. Last thing he did remember was watching some horror movie with his brother. Speaking of his brother, Burn was on the corner sofa still asleep. That couch had become Burn’s favorite. Crash sat up and looked at the clock behind him. It was almost noon. How late had he stayed up last night? 

He stood up and stretched then looked over to his brother. He owed him so much. Burn always was there to help. Burn always knew how to pull him out of a mild depression. Sometimes it could get annoying. He was old enough to take care of himself, sorta. He didn’t need to be babied. Though, at the same time he was grateful. It was probably exhausting for Burn, though he never complained. When Crash was really feeling down Burn would always come up with some random adventure that always seemed to cheer him up. 

An adventure sounded like a good idea right about now. Today he would give Burn a break from having to be his brother. Crash quickly changed out of his pj’s and into his everyday wear. He pulled the half fallen off blanket back over his brother. On his way out he used his phone to send a text to Burn’s explaining that he was having a day out to himself. Burn would love to hear that. 

The cafe was Crash’s first stop. It was in a town over so this gave him time to walk and think. They say that’s relaxing. whoever they are. Thinking was a dangerous thing for him to do. His thought’s always wound up revolving around one thing, or rather person. Nope not today. Today he was a single independent adult who was going to explore new places. Ew, his name and single in the same sentence. It wasn’t right. 

When he entered the cafe he recognized the tall wine red haired woman at the counter.

“Bonjour Monsieur.”

“Uh, what?” He knew bonjour meant hello. Who didn’t know that. Besides that since he didn’t speak french he was clueless. Val giggled. 

“It means hello sir.” 

“Oh.” 

“You are a flirty gay man and you don’t know the language of love? Shame on you.” She joked. “No double trouble today?” 

“Nah, I wanted a day out to myself.” Crash spared her the details of why. She was a Cupid so she probably could already guess. 

“You hear that?” She held a hand up to her ear. “Progress” 

Crash smiled in agreement. He wasn’t sure if she meant he was making progress or if she was talking about something else entirely. 

“After you order your latte you should check out the museum. The art, si belle ”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Crash got his latte and checked his phone. It looked like Burn had gotten back to him. 

Crash wasn’t sure if the art museum was a place he wanted to visit but he had all day so why not visit as many places as he could. He would spend some time in each place and get an idea of his favorite spots. He went to say bye to Val before leaving. She would most likely not let him leave before doing so anyway. 

“Shame you two aren’t Bi. If you were I’d definitely be able to get him to rethink his actions.” Val winked. “He’s even shorter than you and rather scrawny too so that’d be a hilarious argument.”

Crash had to smile. He knew Val was joking around. It was just how she was. Him being the flirty type himself understood her well. 

“It would definitely cause a scene.” 

“Ne sois pas un étranger, Crash”

Crash walked out of the cafe and headed to the art museum. Why not, right? His day had started off rather interesting what was next? 

Art, now that he thought about it art was the only thing missing in his new home. The room you first entered had rather bare walls. He sipped his coffee and starred at one of the paintings. It was rather abstract. Yet, he kinda liked it. 

“Do you like it?” A girls voice said next to him. He looked at the girl who was about his height, blonde hair just past her shoulders and a white dress. 

“It’s interesting.” 

“It’s mine. See my name is on the bottom. Oh” It was if she had just realized something. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to be rude. My name is Namine.” 

“Crash.” 

The girl giggled. “Crash, got it.” 

“You look familiar, did you just move in?” 

Crash decided to continue the small talk. This was his day out, his day to experience new things and meet new people. He at least owed it to his brother to try. 

“Yeah, Me and my brother moved in across the river.” 

“I knew I saw you somewhere. We’re neighbors. I live just across the street from you. You two are twins right?” 

“Yeah” 

“Sorry for asking. In the game I came from it wasn’t uncommon to have two people who looked alike but weren’t actually twins. I wanted to make sure.” 

“It’s fine” Crash looked back at the painting. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to enjoying the art. I have a painting class I need to get to. See you around neighbor.”  

Art, Art was something he needed to buy. 

He left the museum after a while of looking at the art. He knew his next destination. The pet park. Originally that was going to be after the cafe. He would stay there and see a few animals. Maybe he would get to pet a dog. If their was one thing he missed about Sugar Rush it was the devil dogs. They were always happy to see him and Burn and were down right adorable. He found a trash can and threw out his coffee. It had been empty for a while but for some reason he held onto it on his walk to the park. There were no people here at all but there were cats. About five in total were hanging out by the fountain. Burn would love this. His brother was turning into a cat person but Crash liked dogs more. They did joke about getting a fox. That might be a good idea. He found a bench and sat down. He had been on his feet since he left his house and needed to rest for a bit. A small meow was heard at his feet. He looked down to see a small cat. It looked up at him locking eyes then meowed again. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Meow” 

“I’m sorry I don’t speak cat.” 

“Meow” 

“What?” He picked the cat up and starred straight into it’s eyes. “What do you want?” 

The cat licked his nose. 

“Stop that” 

The cat began to purr. 

“You are so adorable” Crash whispered mainly to himself. This cat had to be made of pure evil because Crash loved it already and like he said he was always more of a dog person. 

“I can see why Burn want’s to steal all of you.” 

He put the cat down on his lap and pet it. This cat was very affectionate that was for sure. 

“How is it you’re a better friend than most people I know and we’ve only just met?” 

The cat kept purring and rubbing it’s head on Crash’s hand to ask to be pet.

“Meow” 

“Yeah, that’s true.”  

A random sim gave him an odd look as they walked their dog to the fenced area. 

“The first guy to look my way all day and he probably thinks I’m crazy. I have you to thank for that.” 

“Meow” 

“Your might be right.” Crash smiled. “He’s just jealous.” 

The cat wound up taking a nap on Crash’s lap for around a half hour. Crash fiddled with his phone and let the cat sleep. He only noticed the time when his stomach growled. He then realized he had not eaten anything all day. He was now hungry and the air was becoming chilly. 

The cat woke and jumped down from his lap. Crash was glad, He was sure the cat had cat things to do and he should start to head back home. The cat began to clean it’s self. 

“Bye little buddy.” 

The cat looked at him then went back to what it was doing. 

Crash folded his arms as he walked home. Food and a warm fire was sounding real nice. He would have to do another adventure like this soon. Their were more places he had yet to visit.