Wraith has long hair and mirage loves it
also how do you draw kisses screw this
Yessssssss,,,,, “Please hug me” is the saddest and fluffiest sentence of all time I love. Ty for the prompt !!
A sigh of frustration was heard within the confines of a yellow-oriented room, the sound of sparking equipment following suit.
Elliott had been working on improving his decoy deployment in the field. He can only send out one for so long before it vanished into thin air. However, things weren’t going as planned, and now the decoys took longer to send out, which was not what he wanted.
Perhaps there was a busted component somewhere, a data chip fried—maybe even one of the conductors blew. Whatever it was, it was infuriating, and, though he never let his anger take hold of him so easily, he could feel it roll off of him in spades. He decided, after electrocuting himself for the fifth time, that it was time for a break before he permanently damaged his hands.
He pushed himself up from his desk and moved to exit his room. Park was out at an interview, something he had begrudgingly agreed to go to (and by “begrudgingly,” he means Park was so adamant in not going that he threatened to leak the manager’s nudes onto the internet, to which he replied: “Go ahead. You’re still going to that interview.” Safe to say, the hacker was angry), so his option of talking to Park on the matter was out of the question. Natalie was busy with her own tech, so he couldn’t ask her either, and Alexander was just asking for the usual “my technology is vastly superior; don’t even attempt at improving it,” so there was no point. Ajay was smart, but she was more acquainted with medicine and the like; she could repair D.O.C., but holographic technology was out of her range.
With a defeated groan, Elliott decided it was just best to wait for his boyfriend to come home. Bouncing ideas off of him would be more beneficial than just continuing fruitless attempts at repairing his tech. However, upon exiting his room, he was immediately met with something solid colliding with his nose, sending him reeling back and cursing whatever struck him.
He could hear Octavio laugh, and, once he reopened his eyes, he looked down to see a football on the floor.
“Yo! Nice catch!” the daredevil shouted, and, for once in his life, Elliott felt annoyed at his buddy. “I’d give it a solid seven, though.”
“But he did not catch it at all!” Pathfinder, the robot standing beside the shorter male, said, screen showing off various question marks.
“He totally did. With his face.”
Elliott shook his head and continued his trek to the kitchen. A snack was definitely in order, his mood only growing more and more sour as time went on. And it only continued to grow sour after he accidentally burned his food after looking away for what he swears was a second, after he stubbed his toe on that stupid table that he swears is moving on its own, and especially after he got some rather nasty comments from some angry fans that were displeased with his last performance.
He was sore, hungry, and emotionally and mentally exhausted. His nose was bruising now, too, which was just awful. He didn’t know if concealer could save him this time. His tech was still on the fritz as well—twenty-five seconds to deploy his next decoy…
Tired hazel optics snapped to the door when he heard it open, seeing his boyfriend finally enter, looking a bit tired and just finished with things overall. But he was here, and Elliott immediately felt himself feel better.
“Hey, I’m ba—what happened to your nose?” Park asked, concern flashing across his features, as Elliott slid out of bed, crossing the room as quickly as his body would allow.
“No talk. Just hug me—please.”
Although Park was a bit surprised to be so suddenly pulled into an embrace, he didn’t hesitate to return it, the other’s arms wrapped tightly around him, his face buried in his shoulder. His hand reached up to run through the holographic trickster’s hair, soothe his worries with the touch he seemed so fond of.
He could tell it was a bad day. Elliott seldom didn’t want to talk, rarely resorting to quiet affection. He liked to talk, liked to hear about Park’s day and elaborate on his own. He didn’t push, though, knew Elliott was just venting his frustrations through the only way he knew was best: embracing his lover, indulging in the awkward but sincere way he held him.
Park didn’t mind. He liked Elliott’s hugs anyway.
I wub,,,,, Ty,,,,,,,,,,,, for the wonderful prompt;;;;;
Yet another fruitless search through files gathered from various sources, no information gathering holding any value other than if Park wanted to host a trivia night on the Syndicate’s favorite brand of coffee. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation and fatigue. Hours spent with nothing to show for it aside from an empty stomach and extra bags under his eyes.
Elliott had been in his room ten minutes ago, attempting to coax him out to get something in him, that it wouldn’t get him anywhere to just waste away in his room; it would be bad for matches, and, whilst he agreed on that front, he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from his computer screen, couldn’t find any time to leave his room and seek out sustenance. When Park said he was fine, Elliott let out a despaired sigh, leaving his boyfriend alone.
Park couldn’t deny he felt a little bad. Elliott probably just wanted to eat dinner with him, talk about his day and help the hacker with these horribly self-destructive tendencies. His habit of destroying his own body via starvation was one out of despair, of desperation to fade away from the world as soon as everything was done, that his ending would be cold and bitter, that everyone else would have a place in the new world he had created through his actions.
Elliott, however, changed all of that. He was his happy ending, and he was where he belonged in the new world. It gave him hope that he could live happily. Still, habits die hard, and forgoing necessities, at times, was more out of simple habit than on purpose. It made the trickster worry, and he hated that—making his other half worry so much about him. He wasn’t worth worrying over so much.
His attention finally broke from his computer when he felt strong hands massage his shoulders, startling him just a bit, but the sensation was so familiar that he was able to relax almost immediately.
The other leaned down a bit, pressing a simple kiss to his ear, and whispered, “Hey, sweetheart.”
Elliott shushed him, and he would’ve been offended were it anyone else. “You’ve been working almost all day. You’ve skipped every meal, including brunch, and I don’t think you want to skip dinner.”
“And why is that?”
“I made bibimbap,” the trickster singsonged.
He did really like the dish, and he could see why the other had selected it; it hit a good portion of the necessary food groups, so Park would get at least some nutrition. And he knew, if he was looking at Elliott, the other would be making those puppy eyes at him, which would easily break him and he’d end up complying instantly.
But he did look into those puppy eyes, and he did break, instantly, and he was releasing a tired groan, reaching out to close everything, shut his computer off and make sure no one could access what he was working on. Elliott looked incredibly pleased with himself, pressing an affectionate kiss to Park’s temple and giving his shoulder a gentle pat.
“Thank you, darling.”
The hacker smiled tiredly, moving to rise from his seat, Elliott only centimeters behind him. “Anything for you, you nuisance.”
Arms wrapped snugly around Park’s waist, a head coming up to rest on his shoulder and lips pressing firmly against his cheek this time, endearingly squishing it, something the other seemed strangely fond of doing. He never bothered asking why—he simply chalked it up to that strangeness he was so fond of.
“Y'know you love me! You wouldn’t let me touch you if you didn’t!”
“Hmm… The jury is still out on that one, dear.”
“Oh, is it now?”
“I’d say so.”
“Well…” Elliott suddenly hoisted the other up, hearing a surprised laugh escape his lover, drawing forth one of his own, “looks like I’ll just have to love and care for you until the day the jury comes back.”
“Put me down—!”
“Can’t hear you, heartbreaker—we’re going to the kitchen!”
Elliott knew there were a lot of aspects about Park that were broken, like a vase shattered by someone’s carelessness. But, piece by piece, he was putting him back together, a few shards missing, but he was still beautiful, despite the cracks, the chipped paint. He was breathtaking, his smile whole and eyes warm. He was Elliott’s everything, and the days he was worse off, the days where he refused to eat and the days he couldn’t get out of bed, were the days he remained glued to his side, trying his best for the only other person who made him know what love was like.
He was fixing Park, and, in a way, strangely enough, perhaps he was being fixed, too.
Once they were in the dining room, Elliott set Park by his chair, the other suppressing his laughter and having given up on attempting to escape the other’s hold the moment he passed the threshold of his room, carrying him like he weighed nothing. The trickster gestured to the bowl on the table, his usual bright smile adorning his visage.
Park looked over the meal, head tilted to the side. The bibimbap was still warm, still steaming, silverware placed on either side of it. However, there was another plate set beside it, a rather tempting looking brownie set upon it. In a glass was chamomile tea, likely for the hacker’s constant state of stress and insomnia. He suspected the brownie was incentive to eat, which he had no qualms against, but, frankly, he was beginning to feel a little guilty.
“You do a lot for someone that doesn’t make an effort,” he muttered without really realizing it, suddenly being spun around by an incredulous Elliott.
“Hey, what does that mean?” he inquired, tone lacking any anger, only really laced with concern.
“You’re always making so many attempts for me to improve my health.” Park shrugged, gaze downcast. “Yet I’m not exactly quick to change my habits. It just seems childish on my part.”
“It’s not—babe.” Elliott slipped a hand under Park’s chin, raising it just slightly so they were meeting gazes. “Healing isn’t gonna happen just like that. It takes time to get better, and I know that.” His smile appeared sad now, brows gently furrowed. “If it takes a lifetime to make you happy, make you healthy, then I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with you, doing just that.” He drew the other into a hug, yet another kiss pressed against the hacker’s forehead. “You do the same for me just by being here.”
“I bet I could do more.”
“You could, but I’m not asking you to.”
“But I didn’t ask you to either.”
A finger was placed on Elliott’s lips, silencing him. “Eat dinner with me. After that, we can do that thing you always wanted.”
Elliott’s mouth dropped as Park’s finger slipped away, a knowing smile crossing the hacker’s sharp features. “Really? You really mean it? We can do the thing?”
Park nodded his head.
“Yes! I’ve always wanted to paint your nails! Which color do you like? I can do yellow or green—or any color, really, but I want to know what color you want!”
Healing was a long, arduous journey, but Park wouldn’t mind walking that road with Elliott at his side, the other’s sunny disposition hiding the demons he had; he’d be there for the other, every step of the way, however he can.
me and crypto cuddle and watch smack DVD
Wraith : Octavio is in hospital.
Mirage : Oh,jeez… Why’s that?
Wraith : He said someone made a bet with him that he should go outside with an umbrella while a storm is happening. All of it in exchange for some money. I will hit whoever made that bet with him.
Mirage : *sweats*
I found the CUTEST picture of Wraith and Mirage 😍
Got left on my own so I went exploring
“one second before Octavio was killed by Renee”
DURANTE LA TORMENTA / MİRAGE (2018)
Filmden aldığım zevki şimdi size nasıl geçireyim ne anlatayım bilmiyorum ama bana güvenin ve açın izleyin lütfen..
Film ispanyol yapımı. Son yıllarda ispanyol sineması bariz şekilde yükselişte. Ayrıca film netflix yapımı. Normalde Netflix filmlerini beğenmiyorum. Her ne kadar dizileri çok iyi olsa da filmleri bende aynı etkiyi bırakmıyor. Bu sefer bir istisna oldu.
La casa de papel dizisinden tanıdıgım ve çok sevdiğim Alvaro Morte bu filmde yer alıyor. Filmin başrollerinin farklı olmasından belki de kendisini gözüm görmedi ksjsks Çünkü Chino Darin ve Adriana Ugarte mükemmel bir oyunculuk sergilemiş. Chino beyden birazcık da etkilenmiş bulunmaktayım ksjsks herneyse filme dönelim.
İngilizcesiyle “mirage”, türkçesiyle “fırtına anı”, 2018 ispanya yapımı drama-gerilim filmi. Zamanda yolculuk, parelel evren temalı diyebiliriz. 128 dakikalık film, zaman kavramına farklı bir bakış açısı getiriyor. Kesinlikle sürükleyici.
Uzay-zamandaki bir sorun nedeniyle 25 yıl önceye giderek Nicolas adında bir oğlanın hayatını kurtaran Vera (adriana ugarte), bu nedenle kendi ailesini ve kızını kaybedince, onu geri getirmek için mücadele eder. Yemin ederim sonunda bu film size çok zevk verecek. Çok kaliteli bir olay örgüsü var. Bizim niye böyle filmlerimiz yok bee..Kıskanıyorumm.
Not: Orjinal dilinde izleyelim lütfenn
A request from the lovely @arcticlogik !!!! Theirs involved a drawing of theirs, hence why it isn’t in ask form!!! Thank you for the request, lovely;;
Elliott huffed, looking in the mirror in the bathroom. A tanned hand came up to twirl a brunet lock between sun-kissed fingers, frowning at the length. He had been so busy lately, with visits and interviews and the like, that he hadn’t even noticed just how long and messy his hair had gotten. It was appalling, frankly, and he would have to visit the barber as soon as possible. It wasn’t too long, going just a bit past his ears, but it was still out of hand, fluffing out for some reason.
He had just gotten back after the meetings he attended just moments ago—discussions about merchandise and a few other things he was half paying attention to. He was mentally exhausted from so much meaningless conversation that all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and let the comfort of a plush, comfortable bed take him away into a land of slumber.
And that’s just what he would do; however, added to that little fantasy would be his boyfriend of two months, the hacker likely already waiting in his room, hunched over his laptop and doing god-knows-what. He’d smile at Elliott, that cute, sleepy smile he seemed to only have for the trickster’s eyes, invited him to lay down, curl up against his side, and fall asleep alongside him. It was definitely a pleasant thought.
Once he entered his room, he wasn’t surprised to see Park on his bed, an oversized hoodie swallowing his lesser frame (the bastard probably swiped it from his closet) with is laptop laid on the mattress. He had a bag of fruit snacks beside him, a hand slipping into the plastic bag to fetch more to munch on. His head had turned up to see whoever the intruder was, but his mouth fell open upon spotting his boyfriend, who was striding towards his bed with a grin.
“Hey, babe. Miss me?” he said, settling on the bed near the other—and that is a hoodie from his closet, the little thief. “Missed hearing my favorite—”
Elliott was, for once in his life, stunned into silence when a hand suddenly reached out to brush through his hair, half-synthetic hands indulging in the soft sensation of his messy curls. Park’s eyes were glued to the mess of fluff, slowly getting to his knees to get closer, eyes wide, expression that of absolute adoration. It was such a seldom look on the other that Elliott needed to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.
But he wasn’t dreaming. His very real and tangible boyfriend was climbing into his lap, his nose burying itself in his curls, continuing to run his fingers through his hair. Elliott could only dumbly wrap his arms around Park’s waist, let the other indulge, and enjoy the pleasant sensation of his boyfriend’s gentle hands in his brunet locks.
Eventually, though, Elliott had gotten sleepy, so he carefully maneuvered them so Park was laid flat against the bed, his head resting atop the other’s chest, arms still wrapped snugly around the other’s midsection, with hands still playing with his mess of curls. It was relaxing, like some strange massage only his porcupine of a lover was capable of. It was so endearing that Elliott reminded himself to return it tenfold next time he wasn’t so sleepy.
Park himself was simply smitten. Elliott’s usual groomed look was attractive, yes, but this explosion of curly brunet locks—it was so strangely Elliott. It was cute, precious, a look he’s going to treasure the memory of for awhile. His hair was so soft as well, so pleasant against both real and synthetic flesh—and then an idea came to mind.
Skilled hands moved to take three separate strands of hair and begin braiding. He remembered, ages ago, Mystik had taught him how to braid hair. Mila loved the different styles he learned, the way he would expertly make her red locks into something new and beautiful, something that made her smile and thank him. It was a nice memory, now tainted by death and loss, but reliving it with Elliott—it made him smile a bit, like he was just a kid again.
The trickster had long since fallen asleep atop him, probably drooling on his hoodie, but Park couldn’t find it in himself to care (especially since it wasn’t his hoodie). He could sit here all day, Elliott resting peacefully against him, playing with his curls, and simply enjoying the warmth of his other half.
Ooooo. I like this !! I’ll see what I can do. It might either be super long or super short. Depends.
Empty hallways and vacant family rooms, kitchens with strangers in suits and his father and mother paying him little mind with guests over, giving life to the normally dead home. They were such prominent memories in Park’s mind, so many days spent alone, spent playing with toys that he held little interest in, or tinkering away in the little makeshift lab in his room, creating little inventions that, with his amateur skill, would either fall apart or simply not function. The boy held fascination for the art of creating technology, and that fascination carried over into his adult life.
He had made it his passion, and now he had his own surveillance system company, creating his own technology and profiting from his own genius, living a comfortable life—a comfortable, lonely life.
Although he was brilliant, socializing was simply a skill he had never perfected, even when he had watched his mother and father speak, so composed and professional. He let other people handle business deals; he wasn’t fond of dealing with people and their nonsense.
Still, it did take a toll on him. He, much like any human, desired to talk, to socialize with creatures similar to himself. Speaking with his cat simply wasn’t the same.
Hence why he found himself in the usual shop he visited when looking for spare parts to create new devices with. The owner was a blonde with a Lichtenberg figure on her left cheek, likely from the high-voltage equipment she deals with on a daily basis. She was bubbly and sweet, and, frankly, he almost envies the absolute sunshine that emanates from her. Almost. People are drawn to the warmth, and he was as frigid as they came.
She greeted him with a rapid wave of hand, excited to once again see him in her humble little shop.
“Bonjour, monsieur Park!” Natalie greeted. “What brings you in today?”
“You know you’re allowed to call me ‘Tae Joon,’ right?” he said in minor amusement; always one for formalities. “And I just wanted to grab some extra conductors and a new motherboard. The one I currently have is fried and a client wanted a new computer by the end of this week.”
“Ah! I see! Well, you know where everything is!”
Park nodded and walked to the intended aisle, gathering the desired supplies along the way. A small basket hung on his arm, filled with various items to be purchased and used in his client’s requested PC.
Although he has enough money to live comfortably the rest of his life and a company bringing in plenty of profit, he could be rather bored at times with just how mundane his life had become after reaching success. He had considered traveling, but he quickly realized that was a horrible idea; he hated being outside.
Voices, however, caught his attention. One was loud, drenched in excitement, talking at the speed of sound, masculine. Another voice was much quieter, replying slowly and uncaring, feminine. The third seemed hyper, enough energy for more than fifteen people, masculine. The voices didn’t interest him—what did was the conversation.
Park didn’t like to admit it, but he was a tad nosy, liked to learn new things. He wasn’t a gossip by any means, and such petty subjects didn’t interest him, but they were all piled in a tech place; they had to be discussing something interesting. He rounded the corner without shame, peering over at the group in question.
“… and we just finished the prototype!” the brunet, the tallest one, exclaimed, waving his arms around in excitement. Upon them were strange contraptions, circular devices Park didn’t recognize—and they appeared to have a slight blue glow to them. He turned around to fetch some components on the shelf, tossing them into the basket the shorter one, prosthetic legs and a mask covering half of his face with goggles over his eyes, messy and short blond hair atop his head, was carrying. “It took us months, but it’s finally in testing phase!”
“And you decided some little shop was the perfect place?” the black-haired one ask, rolling her crystalline eyes in amusement. “You’re the most unorthodox man I know, Elliott.”
Elliott, Park thought, putting the name to his face.
“It’s perfect! And funny! Imagine someone walking down an aisle and they see me,” Elliott explained, moving down the aisle a little more, picking up something before putting it back, “and then go down a different aisle—and I’m there again.”
The blond snorted out a laugh. “That’s genius!”
“I know, right?”
Park huffed out a quiet breath, though he was still more so interested in the technology along the other’s arms, those devices that emitted the strange blue glow. He was about to turn and attempt to find a different area that was less conspicuous, but, as soon as he did, he was met face-to-face with nearly an identical copy of the tallest one down the aisle, standing just behind him with a smile. It was frightening enough that it elicited an admittedly embarrassing shout from the man, backing up and crashing into a shelf. It rattled violently against the wall it was held up against, a few things falling and crashing to the floor. Fortunately, none of them broke, but Park could feel his dignity shatter on impact.
The three down the aisle immediately spun around to see what caused the commotion, and a look of guilt crossed Elliott’s visage immediately.
The other Elliott had immediately vanished, like some apparition, and Park was wondering if he was starting to hallucinate. Perhaps he was cooping himself up in his room too much…
“Oh, my god—I’m so sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The man was near him now, the devices on his arms no longer glowing. His hands were floating over him, like he wanted to touch him but refrained from doing so. “I really didn’t mean to scare you like that—”
“You didn’t scare me,” Park snapped, kneeling down and setting his basket down to begin picking up the dropped items. “Moron.”
Elliott only chuckled, kneeling down as well to assist in picking the items up. “Still, sorry about making you run into a shelf. You aren’t in any pain, are you?”
“Yes. Fairly certain.”
“Uh, okay, good!” Elliott flashed the shorter a warm smile, eyes soft and inviting. “I’m Elliott!”
“… Tae Joon.”
“Nice to meet you, Tae!”
Elliott’s friends had finally decided to wander over, and, eventually, Park learned their names as well. The black-haired one, sporting a nose piercing he hadn’t noticed because of the distance, was named Renee, and the blond one was named Octavio, and, instantly, Park felt most of his energy drain after entertaining a single conversation with him. He was fast—and annoying.
But they were nice. Park never really conversed with others in a casual environment. He learned that Elliott and his mother were developing holo technology that would be able to replicate the appearance of someone almost identically, move and act just like them. Octavio was a daredevil, and, just by the mask being pulled down just a bit, the visible scarring, was enough of an indication of the truth that held. Renee herself was a scientist; her and her colleagues were apparently working on a project and Park found himself a bit more fascinated that he’d like.
Park had even shared his own technology, his own company, and the three weren’t shy with questions—especially Elliott. It was weird, having people pay attention to him, but he couldn’t quite figure out if he liked it or not. On one hand, it was nice to talk about his interests; on the other, the attention was uncomfortable, having so many eyes on him.
He was surprised to find himself feel so relaxed around them, though. Renee was quiet and mellow, much like him, so talking to her was natural. Octavio was hyper, but he was also a good listener, and he shut up when someone was talking. Elliott was just fascinating in general, a walking ray of sunshine with confidence soaring above the clouds. Renee and Octavio poked fun at him, but he always took it in stride. He couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place.
“Hey,” Elliott suddenly said, nudging Park gently with his elbow, somehow avoiding snapping any of the holographic devices off, “you wanna grab a drink?”
Renee and Octavio both chuckled quietly, receiving a glare lacking any real malice from Elliott.
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“You’re cool, dude!”
“Besides,” Renee said, sporting a slight smirk, “Tav and I are heading out. Bars aren’t really our scene.”
“Liars. You’re my number one customers.”
“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about, amigo.” Octavio laughed again, waving his good-byes. “See ya!”
And, just like that, the two made a speedy exit, leaving Park alone with Elliott. Elliott didn’t seem bothered, but Park could feel panic swell. He was basically being forced into spending time with someone, a new acquaintance at best. Elliott was friendly, sure, but Park wasn’t exactly a social butterfly.
Elliott seemed to have noticed, because he gently bumped Park’s shoulder with his, smiling that same warm smile that seems to frequent his visage. “I’ll do most of the talking, okay?”
Park could feel himself relax, if not just a bit.
The bar owned by the brunet beside him wasn’t open today, so no one was inside, quiet and vacant. Elliott went behind the counter almost immediately, fetching a few alcoholic beverages Park wasn’t familiar with (though he wasn’t familiar with, well, any, since he’s never drank before), and mixing them together, concocting some creation the tech geek both feared and anticipated.
He talked the entire time, rambling about his technology and how amazing it was, how they were so close to perfecting it he could taste it. He knew his stuff, everything stated with an intellectual mind and not just random jargon tossed out on a whim. He was intelligent, and Park… well, he found it a bit attractive. It was a pleasant surprise, since he was sure the other was full of it and didn’t know much about the technology he was testing, a mere lab monkey rather than anything special.
He kept his attention on Park the entire time as well. He didn’t ignore him, didn’t cut him off. He treated Park like he was there, and that was a concept virtually unheard of by the surveillance expert. Elliott didn’t have any ulterior motives for wanting to befriend him, no desire to abuse his wealth or even just get a job at somewhere that paid well. He was genuinely interested in Park. It made him feel warm, and that sensation, he knew for certain, was good.
Elliott slid a drink over to him, that smile of his never once fading from his visage. “I don’t take you for a heavy drinker, so this one isn’t too strong.”
“Thank you,” Park said, taking the glass and sipping the beverage. It was… interesting, a lot of things hitting him at once, and he released only the slightest cough after swallowing. “What is this?”
“An Addington!” the man replied brightly, leaning against the counter with a hand placed atop it. “It’s got vermouth in it, sparkling water, and a bit of orange.” He shrugged. “Best served like a martini.”
Elliott was strange, he decided. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He was bubbly and happy. He was a bit awkward at times, accidentally stuttering over himself when he spoke about something without thinking beforehand, and he sometimes rambled on about nothing and everything all at once. He was kind, though, and patient, attentive and strangely endearing, charming in his own way.
And when he placed a warm hand over Park’s, he decided he would give this a shot.
Mirage : Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Mirage : Unless you’re talking about me. I’m pretty no matter what.
Are you telling me there are New Mutants stories I’m not a part of?
I’m not usually one to go for “a-night-out”…But for once, I’ll accept and join you two. Can’t be worse then when I have you both in my squad.