TFC’s Completely Normal Afternoon Where Nothing Goes Wrong And Nobody Dies Horribly
(shoutout to @lindentree for inspiring this silly fic!)
TFC sat in his little bachelor pad, coffee in hand, watching the steam rise out of his mug.
It was a nice mug, all things considered. A gift from the other Hermits. A handmade blue thing, turned on a potter’s wheel, with an extra-large handle to give his old hands a break sometimes. Full of coffee from his ancient coffee machine, that gurgled and growled like a jackhammer being waterboarded.
TFC took a sip, and winced. Okay, so maybe it was time to leave the mine and get more coffee. He’d re-used the grounds for the fourth time, and now it was really starting to get properly bitter.
He drummed his fingers on his glass-top table, listening to the echo against the cold stone walls of his little antechamber. Maybe he’d decorate the walls at some point soon.
TFC shrugged, and opened his comm. Hopefully one of the other Hermits had some coffee beans. He wiped the stone dust off his screen, and held down the three buttons to switch it on. Yes, he kept his comm strapped to his arm like almost every other player with some semblance of sense. No, he refused to let the damn thing be awake for any longer than it needed to be. The Hermits were chatty folks, and when TFC was deep in his mines and deep in thought, the last thing he needed interrupting his musings was a million buzzing noises as Cleo and Jevin got into a slapfight in the general chat.
TFC’s personal logo flashed across the screen (the three letters of his name in red, natch) and he took another slurp of his bitter coffee, wrinkling his nose. The comm beeped, and TFC opened the group chat and tapped out a quick message.
<Tinfoilchef> anyone got any more coffee? I’m clean out.
He put his comm down, and took another swig.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
TFC frowned. He was a patient man by nature. The same could not be said of the other Hermits, who were usually falling over themselves to help each other out.
And he hadn’t gotten a reply yet.
It had been a whole ninety seconds.
TFC scrolled up in chat, and he sighed, rubbing his face. He sank back in his chair in annoyance.
Of course.
He tabbed upwards, watching things spiral out of control… in reverse.
<Renthedog was blanched to death>
<Renthedog> THE PAIN! THE PAIN IS INDESCRIBABLE
<Vintagebeef was portaged to death>
<Vintagebeef> RUN! THE BOATS! THE BOATS ARE COMING!
TFC rubbed his temples with his free hand, sighing in exasperation. ‘
“Guys, I dug up five stacks of diamonds, don’t make me do this…I don’t want to re-dig those tunnels…” TFC groaned.
And of course the nonsense kept coming as he scrolled farther and farther back. Gee, that last message from Ren was about four hours ago, now...
<Iskall85 became part of the weft>
<Iskall85> HELP GOD THE LOOM’S GROWN LEGS
“Does anyone on this server besides me even know HOW to weave?!” TFC growled, averting his gaze from his pile of unfinished weaving in the corner of the room. It didn’t exist. He couldn’t see it. His WIP’s couldn’t hurt him.
And on and on it went.
<Xisumavoid was hooked to death>
<Grian was torqued to death>
<Tango was unraveled to death>
<Zombiecleo was racqueted to death>
“Right, I’ve seen enough.” TFC sighed, “On the bright side, at least I’ll have all the coffee I had a week ago, so there’s that…”
He carefully tabbed through his various screens and menus until he arrived at the one bit of his comm that was set aside for admin functions. Now, TFC wasn’t a server admin. That much was true. But he had slight admin privileges, for one thing and one thing only: server rollbacks.
While, say, Hypno would have had an extensive wall of options, showing his permissions and all sorts of bells and whistles, TFC’s admin console had a text box to input a date and a big red “GO” button.
He looked mournfully at his ender chest, and, with a sigh, keyed in a date one week prior.
And TFC jabbed his thumb on the big red button.
The world flashed white, utterly blinding him, and a second later TFC was deep in the branch mine in a half-finished tunnel, the same spot he’d been exactly a week prior.
Unfortunately, he was still in a comfortable sitting position, resting all his weight on a chair that suddenly wasn’t there, so he immediately toppled to the ground, landing on his ass in an undignified heap.
“Ow.” TFC muttered, sitting up slowly and tapping through his messages.
<Xisuma> oh, we rolled back. Is everyone alright!?
<Tango> Mumbo you are BANNED FROM TIME TRAVEL
<MumboJumbo> It wasn’t me this time! I mean it was. But blame Zedaph!
<Zedaph> ME?! No! Blame Cub! Cub gave me the doodad!
TFC rolled his eyes and typed out a message.
<Tinfoilchef> Does anyone have any fresh coffee beans?
Silence.
No messages. No new complaining. As all the hermits re-read TFC’s words and soaked them in.
Finally, Cleo broke the silence.
<Zombiecleo> TFC. How many times did you re-use your last filter of grounds.
<TinfoilChef> eh, six? Seven?
<Zombiecleo> are you telling me we’d all still be in shuttlecock hell if you hadn’t gotten sick of the taste of reused coffee grinds?!
<TinfoilChef> Pretty much, yeah
<TinfoilChef> anyway
<TinfoilChef> does anyone have some fresh coffee?
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hc that andrew is really good at jeopardy and whenever it's just him and neil sitting in the dorm living room - and eventually their own living room later on - he'll just sit and answer each one word-for-word while neil watches, amazed
maybe neil is also super good (idk man i just think he holds on to useless info since he'll never know when he might need it) and they compete to see who can get the most points between the two
whenever neil beats andrew he just gives him the most smug smirk that andrew has to kiss off his face (and it has nothing to do with the fact that the smirk maybe makes andrews knees weak and ears hot, and maybe he lets him win sometimes just to see the easy confidence that neil takes on, maybe)
and one day the foxes are there to witness the back-and-forth between them and they're like "you guys should go on the show" and i just know that andrew would think that winning jeopardy would be the funniest thing ever and neil would like that it showed his new freedom in that he could go on live tv with no risk.
so they apply and get on the show (idk how that works) and immediately act like they don't know each other, they're just contestants to each other. and quickly they start trash-talking each other, i mean come on, and the host probably mentions that they're both professional exy players and have been on teams together in the past, so they probably trash talk each other about that even more
and it gets to the point where the old (or maybe new idk) minyard-josten rivalry hashtag starts trending again and at this point they're not publicly out so everybody believes they just really hate each other
anyways, andrew eventually wins (IM SRY BUT I JUST THINK HE'D BE BETTER BECAUSE OF HIS MEMORY) and they ask what he's going to do with the prize money and he turns to neil and is like "i'll probably take my husband on vacation, but i wouldn't know where he'd want to go" and neil smiles at him and is like "anywhere is fine as long as i'm with you" and thats how they come out to the public
"minyard-josten marriage?!" trends for a month after that
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aftg au fic where neil is a psych major and he wants to do his final on the whole nature vs nurture thing so ofc he goes to aaron (they're not friends but they can be found studying with each other and taking turns bringing back snacks from the vending machine when they're both hunched over textbooks at 2 in the morning in the library). aaron only agrees to help bc neil promised he would help him talk to katelyn since they share a class this semester. enter andrew, criminal justice major, he's only here because aaron promised to buy him ice cream for the next month (and neil is hot and andrew is very gay). neil spends the next month or so running his little tests and asking questions. he learns early on that andrew is stubborn, he only deals in exchanges so every other night they find themselves sitting somewhere on campus trading truths and andrew sort of likes how he's revealing the nurture life dealt him and neil just accepts it bc he was dealt a similar hand. aaron doesn't care about the project, he's there for katelyn and maybe a small part of him would admit to needing validation that andrew isn't miles away from him bc look, they both hate candy corn, cilantro tastes like soap, and neither of them ever were too fond of hiking.
andrew wants to quit the project, ice cream wasn't worth this. neils auburn hair and ocean eyes and mysterious scars that were too clean to be anything but intentional. aaron wants to get a gf and find out why his brother doesn't talk to him yet is willing to stab the senior who shoved him. neil just wants to get a good grade, he survived the mafia and his serial killer father so he thinks he deserves a good grade (and if he keeps seeking out andrew in the halls and spends too much time trying to dissect the nature of him, well. good grade, right?)
what happens when neil realizes hes gotten too close to another person in a way he never has before, when andrew begins studying a certain butcher in his class with awfully familiar eyes?
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kevin day is not “neil josten but taller” ok?
whether it’s kevneil, kandrew, kandreil. romantic or platonic. yes, these relationships affect him and how interacts, how he evolves. but he affects those he interacts with right back. like it should be. the adjustments should show. should matter. should be kind.
if neil and/or andrew–especially andrew–are mean, degrading, impatient, mocking, superior, frustrated towards kevin, simply because he is kevin, and kevin isn’t exactly that right back with them? the whole potential of a kevin-relationship was missed. pulverized.
kevin is not “neil josten but taller”–he’s kevin fucking day, queen of exy, son of exy, cult survivor, first and only ambidextrous striker, self-taught at that, and has led the palmetto state foxes to victory. he can be mean and ruthless and oblivious and hurtful and egotistical and a real fucking asshole. andrew’s that. neil is those things too. but they’re neil and andrew and kevin. their characters paint the colors with which their traits appear. they’re very evenly matched, that’s why they work so well together, but their differences make for a lot of it as well.
so unless it’s for the angst, the eventual happy ending, the character development, the relationship development, the healing, the therapy, the do-better… and *even* then…
don’t make neil belittle kevin. don’t make kevin the butt of andreil’s mean jokes. don’t make andrew compare kevin to neil. don’t make kevin palatable to andreil.
all three of them already fit together. nora’s shown us.
why would andrew despise kevin for not understanding the kind of communication he has with neil? and why would neil be the norm? before neil, there was kevin. and only kevin. he was the first for andrew. that can never be denied. and andrew would never forget. why would andrew build a relationship with a second neil? why would he isolate kevin with private, mean jokes with neil? why would neil make fun of kevin with exy? why would he get irritated with kevin for talking more than andrew? and why would all of that be for nothing, except establish a toxic base for the triad?
i don’t like it. it’s not two knives and a spoon. it’s three fucking knives. all equally sharp. all equally blunt. all equally handy. all equally hold-able.
three. fucking. knives.
thank you for coming to my KEVTalk.
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