im just a cool cat.

The microwave dinged soon enough, and Cronus presented the now-melted white chocolate to Mituna like a puppy bringing a bone. If Mituna cared to look deep enough, the desperate need for approval was thinly veiled in the Ampora’s expression. As much as he tried to remain neutral, eventually he would have to admit to himself that it was nice to just talk to another person without flinching in the fear of rejection. Of course, rejection was still an incredible possibility, but so far so good, right? Setting the bowl of warm, creamy mixture down on the table in front of Mituna, even someone as bone-headed as Cronus could tell something was up. The way the dude slumped over in his seat was tell-tale of...something. Cronus had no idea what, lacking the social experience to determine things like that, but he was half-sure he was supposed to offer, like, a hug or something. God, what did he do at a time like this? When Mituna spoke, it brought the awkward feeling from a 10 to a 100 real quick. Sure, Cronus had acted like it was a chore to help Mituna because that’s just the kind of guy he was, but he hadn’t expected the other to agree. Now he felt like more of an asshole than he would have if Mituna had just rolled his eyes and made a snarky comment. “Uh, no man, not rude at all... I mean, you helped me when I needed it, so...” Fuck. This was weird. Super fucking weird. Cronus had absolutely no idea how to handle a situation like this. He shoved one hand in his pocket and the other squeezed the back of his neck. “Hey, um...” The following pause was longer than he intended. “...Do you need something? You look like your hydraulics are all outta whack or something.” Shifting awkwardly, Cronus found himself unable to make eye contact with Mituna. While he could tell that something was up, he had absolutely no idea what was going on. Honestly, he normally couldn’t care less when it came to other people’s problems, but this guy had just helped him out of a pinch so he felt invested to at least try.

The second Cronus heard about the existence of a maid cafe – a kitty-cat themed one no less – it was a no-brainer. He was going, and damnit he was going right now. He’d searched the address and realized it was within walking distance of his dorm room, so he didn’t even have to unpark his car. Truly, this was an amazing discovery, and today was shaping up to be, quite easily, the best day ever. He’d never tell anyone, but he’d seen all the anime; he knew exactly what girls at maid cafes were like. At least, how they were supposed to be. A contagious smile on his lips, he took off, grabbing his leather jacket from the chair he’d hung it over on his way out. His hair was gelled, his shirt was tucked in, and he was totally ready to adopt himself a kitten. Chuckling at his own pun, he headed down the street in the direction of the cafe, jacket slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t burning hot out, but he wasn’t quite sure it was chilly enough for his jacket. Upon arrival, he took a moment to appreciate the fact that this place even existed at all, let alone in his general vicinity. He grinned up at the sign, running a hand over his gel-slicked hair before walking inside. It was everything he’d imagined; the waitresses were dressed exactly how he’d expected them to be, and the whole place just had a certain atmosphere to it. Yep, this was going to be his new favorite place.

Smoothing down her skirt, Meulin perked up as the bell of the front door rang, signalling a customer. Everything about him screamed 50′s greaser, from the slicked back hair to the leather jacket tossed over the shoulder. Keeping the bright smile of her face, she dipped into a small curtsy. “Hello! We hope you have a purrfect dining experience with us today. Just one in your party?” She asked pleasantly, grabbing a menu and glancing over the seating chart. The cafe was structured in a manner that was closer to a restaurant then a casual coffee shop. “If you follow me, I can lead you to your table.” Meulin directed before turning around and walking towards the table, glancing over her shoulder to check that he was following. 

Go figure, he messed up again when it came to thanking the guy. Would he ever just be a functioning human being capable of normal human interactions? Probably not, he figured. He was doomed to be a fuck-up for the rest of his life. A fuck-up with no friends, apparently, because this situation was going downhill fast. Not that Cronus needed friends. He was plenty cool all by himself... right? It was a mild surprise when Mituna even kept talking to him, much less told Cronus his name. Snapping out of his admittedly depressing thoughts, he nodded and headed over to the cabinet to fetch the remaining fans. Turning up with two of them, he plugged them in at different angles from Mituna’s to help diffuse the smoke. With a sigh, he ran a hand over his hair, pouting slightly at the mess he’d made of his cookies. The way his expression lit up when Mituna offered to not only continue speaking to him, but to actually let him help with something, was full of pure childlike joy. It might have been cute, except that it only lasted for a fraction of a second before Cronus was clearing his throat and regaining his composure. One more time, he ran his hand over his hair and gave Mituna a kind of shrug. “I mean, since you asked so nicely, I guess I can help you out.”  It was easy for him to contain the positive feelings in his voice; he’d always been that way. Or at least, he had been that way since starting college. He was a master at projecting the aloof, too-cool-for-school image he worked so hard on maintaining. Picking up the white chocolate, he gave the instructions a read -- a more thorough read than he’d given the instructions on baking the cookies -- and nodded. “Yeah, this seems simple enough. I got your back.” Opening the package, he poured its contents into a bowl and stuck it in the microwave, double checking the time settings before hitting start.

It was Cronus’ first baking club meeting, and he was already screwing it up. Of course, half the members were dudes and the other half were chicks he’d already struck out with so there wasn’t much in the way of what he signed up for. Some small part of him just figured hey, what the hell, may as well bake something while he’s here. It could be fun. Boy, was he wrong. Whoever had let Cronus try to do anything involving an oven without supervision was going to be regretting it. It was assumed, of course, that people who had chosen to join a club specifically for baking would know what they were doing. That assumption was wrong. So, totally wrong. Cronus had absolutely no idea what he was doing, and if it weren’t for the cookbooks littered about the room he probably wouldn’t have even known the first thing to put into cookie dough. All things considered, the dough itself turned out alright. It was a little goopy, sure, and it could have used a few extra scoops of flour but it was certainly dough, and it would certainly produce cookies if baked correctly. Emphasis on the ‘if’. Sure, he’d read the instructions, but how hard could it really be from this point on? He would come to regret that line of thinking within the next hour. Cookies in the oven, he simply stood near it, half-watching, mostly playing on his phone. The scent of fresh-baked cookies would hit his nose when they were done, he figured. Unfortunately, he was wrong again. So very wrong. If the scent of fresh-baked cookies ever wafted from the oven, Cronus completely missed it, because the first thing he smelled after putting the cookies in the oven was the odor of burnt ash. Nearly dropping his phone, he shoved it in his pocket hastily and turned to the oven. From what he could see, his cookies were charcoal-black and oh no what if they caught fire? In a panic, Cronus opened the oven, only to be greeted with a billow of smoke and the smell of burnt baked goods, stronger than ever. Waving his hands, he tried to clear some of the smoke, grabbing an oven mitt to retrieve his completely ruined tray of cookies.

Polite smiles were entirely the wrong way to deal with a wild Cronus on the hunt, as Jane would soon learn. He rolled his shoulders for a moment as if to brush off the mild rejection before opening his mouth to speak again. “I’ll take that hot, that way it matches the girl making it for me.” Awkward phrasing, he’d admit -- that one would need some work -- but it got the point across, at least. He leaned forward against the counter, his eyebrows raised just slightly. “And hey, if the policy is all that’s holding you back, I’d be glad to come back when you’re off,” he added, giving her a wink. “Hell, if you make a good enough macchiato I might just hang around and wait for you.” Clearly, the Ampora failed to realize how creepy that was, because he shot Jane a wink and seemed to think it would actually get him somewhere. Girls liked that sort of thing, right? Guys hanging around and waiting for them to get off work so they could go on a date? Cronus was pretty sure he’d seen it in more than one movie, so it must be a thing in real life.

Cronus flinched. His hand stung where she’d stepped on it, but her words stung even harder. Why was everyone so damn mean to him? Here he was, just your average nice guy, trying to make friends and maybe get a little action on the side, and all everyone ever did was put him down. He was trying here, alright? If only people would cut him some slack, they’d see what a great guy he really was deep down. Alas, he was always turned down in the harshest way possible, and no amount of being nice ever seemed to redeem him. He supposed people just weren’t into nice guys; they all wanted to be with asshole guys or dudes who were broken in some way. A damn shame, that was, because Cronus was a real catch. With a groan, Cronus adjusted himself into a sitting position and nursed his wounded hand for a moment. It was still throbbing from the force of Meenah’s sneaker coming down on it with all the wrath of women wronged everywhere. It took him a moment to gather himself, but once he did, he pushed himself into a standing position. His jacket was carefully picked up off the ground and he brushed himself off, turning back to look at Meenah, who had now retaken her post at the tryouts table. His ego was damaged by his encounter with the captain thus far, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up. He just had to remember the babes. So. Many. Babes. All of a sudden she was yelling at him again, and his eyes focused on her. It sounded like she was asking him to leave, but the chances of that happening at this point were slim. Extracurricular activities were supposed to be open to anyone who wanted to join, right? He took a few steps toward her, clearing his throat and putting himself together. “Well, actually, since you’re bein’ so kind about the whole situation, I didn’t come here just to see the show. Don’t get me wrong, you put on a great show, but I’m here to try out. I wanna be a part of the squad, and as far as I know, you have to at least let me try out since I’m interested and all.”

Cronus snorted in derision, shaking his head as he yanked his hand away from Eridan as soon as the little loser got his footing. “Look, kid, it’s not my fault you fell. Maybe you shoulda let me help you with the heavy shit, but no. You had to act all high and mighty about it.” Okay, so maybe Cronus hadn’t exactly offered. More like teased Eridan about how he’d probably need help. Still, maybe Eridan should have taken him more seriously. The elder Ampora rolled his eyes as Eridan strutted right past him, carrying the box like he’d never fallen at all. As if Cronus were ever going to let him live that down. “As much as I’d love to just skip this bullshit and get my own stuff moved in, it seems like I’ve gotta keep an eye on you. Can’t have you breaking your neck falling down the stairs, yanno? Dad’d have a fucking fit, and probably blame me for the whole damn thing. So it looks like you’re stuck with me ‘til we finish moving your stuff in.” Cronus heaved a sigh as though this were somehow a huge inconvenience to him as he bent down and picked the box he’d been carrying back up. It was going to be a long day.

“Fuckin shit.” He hissed as he hastily cleaned up, “Useless piece of goddamn shit box can’t even fuckin hold a few goddamn books.”

Fall. The most wonderful time of the year. Well, for Jane it was. While she enjoyed spring, and some of winter, fall was the only season that truly mattered. Jane got to wear cute sweaters and leggings, her thick dresses and her favorite pea coat. Boots! She went gaga when her dad sent over a pair of navy blue boots, which matched almost everything in her closet. Apples were used in almost every baked good, along with pecans, pears, cinnamon, and pumpkin. Jane adored pumpkin foods, but sometimes, even the best of things could be pulled too far.  Which is where Jane found herself on a bright, cool day. The one thing she hated about Fall. The only thing she hated about Fall: pumpkin spice EVERYTHING. From coffee, to cheesecake, muffins, and beyond, Jane hated the stupid flavor with all of her being. So many girls came in to order pumpkin spice lattes and other nasty drinks, claiming them to be the best in the world. The shop even brought in special candles to sell, and by the end of the second week, Jane wanted to throw up the moment she stepped into the coffee house. Pulling on her apron, Jane took over the afternoon shift, hoping that for once she might get a break from Pumpkin Spice. Maybe a macchiato, or a simple americano with plain cream. As fate would have it, Jane and the others from the afternoon shift were bombarded with Pumpkin Spice orders, ranging from the multiple drinks to treats. Unfortunately, the entire place was stocked and ready to go for such a rush, and Jane secretly hoped that they would run out of the damn stuff soon. Anything to avoid smelling the fake cinnamon-y shit that came from the pump nozzle.  It was in the final hours when everything died down, and Jane was ready to cry. Everything smelled like shitty pumpkin and her hands were orange. Ok, not really, but everything seemed to have an orange tint to it. The doorbell rang and she straightened up instantly, taking in the customer’s incoming decision.  “Welcome to Pumpkin Spice Hell, how can I help you today?” Jane said in her most cheerful voice, until she realized what had actually left her lips. 

Fuck was she overdressed? Suddenly her slender fingers were pulling a bit at the purple fabric of her dress, feeling more uncomfortable the longer she had to wait. Maybe her date decided they just weren’t going to show up.She supposed she could still chicken out, run for the bathroom, and climb out a window. She probably should have asked for their name before agreeing to meet them. She only knew them by their username and they only knew her by ‘pussyliquor’, a username she thought was rather clever and funny. Thankfully she had the foresight to let her date know that she was in a black dress and would be at a table in the corner so there was at least some hope of finding her but she was seriously starting to doubt they would show.

With the Cheerleading coach still preoccupied with their phone, the teen clone rolled her shoulders and started to feel the strong beat of the music, closing her eyes as she got into position before taking a running step into a backwards handspring as she tried to get the attention of others who might want to join. Landing quickly, she got herself back up and started on a few pre-choregraphed moves, swinging her hips and pumping fists into the air before taking another running leap for a flip… and cracking right into an innocent bystander that got too close. Groaning as she laid on top of the bystander, Meenah huffed as her head spun, more annoyed that she was interrupted than upset by the fact she cracked into some poor kid.