#then somehow that got phased out of existence which is. good. probably. to keep him more serious and important

[possessable]

Mmm future for bozzy for the evil oc asks

Actually a bit of a difficult question to answer because i didn't think much about Bozzy's future aside from "he's doing Pretty Well" [SORRY BOZZY YOUR MEMORY GOT TURNED INTO A SYMBOL OF GUILT HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE EVEN THOUGH YOU WENT OFF TO HAVE A RELATIVELY GOOD LIFE] so the only worst outcome i can think of for him is something he already largely avoided,

i think the worst thing for him would be if he got stuck in that transitional lull when the hurt is no longer actively happening but the healing has not begun yet , like if after he had to leave his home he became too wary to ever let himself be hopeful for fear of it being taken away [again] . in my mind [in the narrative too, i guess?] he has always represented hope [for some reason] so i think the worst thing would be if he didn't let himself believe he could be okay again

It's okay though because he does end up okay again and he also helps Rowan be okay again

#espialposting #characterbozzy #ask #originally Bozzy got turned into another strain of infection like Oas did and then he went and starred in a . shitpost spinoff #bug-fighting-animated-series which was the origin of his WHOLE character which is VERY funny #then somehow that got phased out of existence which is. good. probably. to keep him more serious and important #somehow for a while i considered having him die so i could use appearances of his ghost to represent new beginnings and hope #which is interesting because i guess that means he's Always represented hope even though i can't remember when i made that decision #and also having a representation of hope that doesn't die even when he dies is poignant or something but i think it's #better for him to live‚ i like it that way‚ he deserve to be Happy

[ryuichirou]

Replies

hipsterteller asked:

Poor unfortunate soul~

In pain, in need~

Anonymous asked:

We've had RSA Kalim, but what about Noble Bell College Kalim?

Oh god, it feels like an equivalent of sending your careless offspring to a small boarding school that is also a Church lol But knowing Kalim, he’s just going to somehow bring along the party atmosphere. Kalim can’t just live without good food and good time lol Rollo is going to hate him…

I think we should keep Kalim away from NBC. For Rollo’s sake.

Anonymous asked:

How would you feel about Azul and the Tweels meeting Najma? It would be hilarious to think about it to see Jamil's sister.

Since we haven’t watched the event in which Najma appears yet, I can’t say for certain, but I am torn between “let’s keep the Tweels away from Najma for Najma’s sake” and “let’s keep the Tweels away from Najma for Jamil’s sake” lol, and the more I think about it, the more I see the latter option.

In any case! Poor Jamil, he’ll have to deescalate this shitshow in any scenario lol

Anonymous asked:

Any thoughts on Azul x Silver? Azul is one of the few people I could see Lilia potentially not being supportive of as a partner for Silver.

That one vignette in which Azul was trying to teach Silver how to assert dominance was fun! I like how Azul acknowledges that Silver is a very useful asset and someone he should definitely be close to, so it’s a very nice reason to ship the two. Plus, Silver is so sweetly gullible and so ready to do as he’s told, in some ways Azul might find him to be a perfect partner. Not only he’s very “pliable” and obedient, he’s also influential in Diasomnia, which is the hardest dorm for Azul to stick his tentacles in.

But yeah, Lilia probably wouldn’t be supportive of that lol He might actually enter the “scary dad” phase if these two started spending more time together.

Anonymous asked:

At first I was a bit skeptical about the idea of Kalim overblotting. Not because I don't believe that Jamil's death wouldn't be traumatic enough, but because aside for strong negative emotions, you generally also need to overuse your magic to overblot. While he can use magic a bit frivolously, I never got the vibe of him abusing it too much.

But you made me realize that Jamil death might be the perfect chance. Even if his family found a substitute, no one could make up for Kalim's shortcomings and understand his strengths like Jamil did. Even if someone that capable existed, he wouldn't let them get close enough to find out. So I think he would try to manage everything by himself, maybe even abusing magic to work around all those obstacles that are beyond his abilities. He would start to live a life similar to Jamil's, with little space for rest or peace, even though he clearly isn't cut out for it.

So it probably wouldn't happen right away, but eventually his stressful lifestyle and the lingering sorrow (maybe even guilt, if he feels responsible) over Jamil's death would lead to him overblotting. It wouldn't matter if his Phantom consumed him. Jamil always gave all he had without esitation, so it's only fair that he keeps doing all he can, even if it kills him.

(this is related to our reply from this post)

Yeah, but the thing about overblot is that it doesn’t seem to always need both emotional distress and overuse of magic to occur: Leona didn’t use much magic when he overblotted I think, and Vil’s overblot happened for the most part due to him being severely overstressed and frustrated; that’s why I assume that just losing Jamil, who is the dearest person to him, could be enough for Kalim to snap. But then again, overblots are supposed to be rare, but it’d just show just how painful it was to him to lose Jamil.

But the scenario that you’ve described is also possible, because Kalim’s life is definitely going to change drastically after losing Jamil. It doesn’t have to be an immediate thing, and the changes in his life and actions, especially with the addition of despair and guilt, would absolutely affect him.

#replies

[loversys-x3]

My Midas and his snapshots headcanons

(I try to keep my inclusion to a minimum)

OG Midas - Midas in his prime. I'd put him in anywhere from late 20s to later 30s, perhaps pushing 40 even. Got his shit figured out. Fully transitioned. Had a wife. Divorced said wife. Had a daughter, an equally bad relationship with her, but deep down he cares. (I have to bully him sometimes to make him admit it). Is a lot better with his curse now, avid collector and still a renounced criminal. Had established Ghost and Shadow. Flooded the island.

Midas Rex - I'd like to say this is post loot-shark attack Midas. But hear me out, I say that because I genuinely like to imagine there is absolute jack shit under that armor of his. His entire armor is just pressurized circuitry with the remains of a human head strapped in. I do not like to think he's canon to the current timeline of Fortnite, but he did exist in an older version of the timeline

Shadow Midas - I've seen so many theories about why Shadow Midas canonically exists. My take? He's a dead version of the OG Midas that didn't somehow save himself with the Rex armor post island flood/shark attack. Which means he exists in his own separate timeline as well. His golden touch shifts to the shadow touch (name pending because idk what it's actually called), which has been shown to modify the genetic makeup of organics and the appearances of non-organic objects. He's also like 80% corporeal, but phases through stuff when it's deemed funny.

Marigold - Alright this makes no sense by any means, but I'm gonna take a stretch and say that this is Midas' second daughter. Probably a bit older than Jules, but I feel like she actually comes from a separate timeline that merged with the main one at the time where she was canon. (I don't remember how long ago it's been since she was on the island as an NPC.) I get it, she's female Midas, but. Bird brain and a few interesting tidbits make me feel like they overlap as something other than just snapshots of each other. (And I'm not saying lover because fuck that shit. Midas has tattoos to reference his other daughter, I don't see how this is different.)

Midsummer Midas - I'd like to think he's canon to the main timeline. Where Midas survives and heals from the shark attack. But. He's gone into hiding. And this is probably the last public appearance we see of OG Midas. He's just here to like. Try and be a good father. And try to eat his ice cream, play with a beachball, etc. This is also the variation I stared at to learn about the Marigold's name tattoo on his leg.

Icebound - There's not a lot of documentation on him. I'd like to think he's yet another alternative timeline version of Midas. What significance does he have? I dunno.

Golden Gear Midas - Objectively younger Midas. Probably in the 18 to early 20s range. Vault cracker, criminal for the stacks, street punk in the best way, a bit wreckless, did not have the greatest control of his golden touch (hence the gold patch on his cheek), didn't have his daughter yet nor established GHOST or SHADOW as organizations yet. Personal touch? Pre-transitioned Ftm.

Midas Flopper - Uh. Nonverbal. How he ended up as a thing that exists in the Fortnite universe is a mystery to the loop itself. Unknown why upon consumption it causes a looper to barf up a legendary gun.

There was like two more potential Midas snapshots that were supposed to be counted, but idk what to write about that bony fuck Oro. (I'm 90% sure that's the origin of the golden touch?) Cyclo is also an iffy write for me too because it has the same body mold, but I don't have a clue what his lore actually is. (I think he has to do with zero point or the eye of the storm experiments, but don't hold me to that.)

#the freak swoons #dirt and glitter posting #heyy here's my midas headcannons baybee #midas fortnite

[i-bring-crack]

henlo, fellow sl reader!

do you have any headcanons of Jin-woo×Hae-in's relationship?

Oh quite a lot actually!!

Cha Hae-In x Sung Jin-Woo Heacanons!!

Canon gave me almost nothing about them but just enough I think so ill do my est not to stray from it! But some things will definitely stray. 

It's a flustered x teaser dynamic absolutely.

Pre rewind Cha Hae-In was always solemn and good at keeping her words/expressions in check because if she didn't then that might be seen as a sort of weakness that could be pinpointed against her. In a world of S ranks that would be seen poorly considering the high status they have to hold, not only during the dungeon raids but also for the whole world since they reflected the very people they were protecting. And she was one of the few women S ranks who was leagues above other kinds of S ranks, so of course the pressure was quite a lot on her. 

That much popularity in over a single night was the reason why she always stayed out of the press and never voiced out a lot of opinions over current events unless necessary. 

So when Jin-Woo met her, he didn't expect her to be very expressive and talkative, which was something she could only do when she is relaxed. A lot of things tend to be on her mind, and during the trip to Japan Jin-Woo let her talk for hours about the raids, the dungeons and the monsters she had fought against or the S rankers that tend to get on her nerves. 

Jin-Woo is also very bad at keeping conversations, mostly because he never had time to socialize, even back when he was in highschool he would get bullied and outcast a lot. That isolation also didn't seem to change as he became an S rank. 

Of course Hae-In noticed that very quickly and also included him in the conversation sometimes like sharing his own experiences of certain topics and stuff like that. Little by little Jin-Woo’s responses changed from one liners to full on dialogues. And Hae-In mentally applauded herself for that. Hah!

Cha Hae-In bonded a lot with the shadows. Her favorite ones are Igris and Kaisel, whom the latter Jin-Woo trained her on how to ride her(i'm going with that Kaisel is actually a girl headcanon too). Of course all the others  also got around to being appreciated by Lady Cha one way or another. Igris seemed to be one of the closest ones due to their shared liking of swordsmanship. Jin-Woo is more of a dagger type honestly but he does love to listen to her tell the history of swordsmanship because oh boy that existed. 

Both of them love to dance, either dance normally or dance with swords but every time they do it is absolutely beautiful.

Their sparring also acts as some sort of dance too. 

While Hae-In always loses to Jin-Woo in running, she wins everytime in the games they play. 

Despite the Territory of Eternal Rest being quite gloomy, Hae-In and Jin-Woo like spending their time there and Hae-In is always amazed at the architecture done by the Shadow Soldiers. 

Jin-Woo caught her and Beru once watching Kdramas until it was 3am. This wasn't the first time either.

I do like to think that Cha regained her original powers (still kept them away when she trained or ran in the olympics tho. Somehow prob, so that way she wouldn't be cheating due to the mana.) when she married Jin-Woo, or likely was given more due to benign the freaking Queen! So they probably still sparred and decided to visit the gaps between dimensions on their honeymoon phase. 

Cue oh so many fantasy moments of the two of them finding mythical beasts, ancient lost treasures, experiencing the golden era of certain kingdoms now that the Monarchs are gone and can't destroy the worlds. 

Omg that's so existing actually, two beings with eldritch powers of death just traveling around the cosmos. I want to write that. 

Jin-Woo really be like (Taking out your gf to eat at paris? nah. Taking her out to meet ancient civilizations lost to time or empires you helped save during the 27 years battling the monarchs? Heck yeah)

Cha Hae-In meets the rulers who give them their blessings and also a big ol’ feast in celebration of their recent wedding. 

Due to the powers she absorbed after spending time with Jin-Woo her body was also able to be strong enough to hold on for a baby, and after a very, veeeery long talk between the two –maybe some coffee and tea and movies were added to calm the mood every now and then (thank @soulintheskies for that cute hc too they had it first)– they decided to only have one.

For the next year Hae-In was probably the most protected being within the entire universe, even though she had the strength herself to go out and fight high tier monsters at that point. 

Hae-In also had the weirdest cosmic craving a pregnant woman could ever have! Dragon meat, monster arachnid legs, fruits from ancient trees constellations away and then adding them to pistachio ice cream. It wasn't even because she had liked them before, well except ice cream, but rather children of monarchs can be really picky in what they eat. 

Beru was the least calmest thing during the whole ordeal -_-.

Jin-Woo is also like the only one allowed in the kitchen because Hae-In microwaves her food and Beru once burned water no don't ask. He has since learned tho. Hae-In still keeps microwaving her food.

“It's efficient!!!” says the former S rank who had too many raids to take care off and often bought take out.

“It's disGUSTANG!!” says the former E rank who had 4 years of culinary under his best.

They often cuddle and watch movies when Jin-Woo gets mad at the cases he has solved. 

Omg they watch true crime.

True crime and Kdramas that's what Su-Ho has grown up seeing. 

#sung jinwoo #cha hae in #solo leveling #solo leveling manwha #headcanons #solo leveling spoilers #sung su ho #at like the very end huh #only i level up

[supercorpkid]

It’s crossover season – Part 4.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Doctor Strange x TeamMate!Reader, Thor x TeamMate!Reader, Black Widow x TeamMate!Reader, Hulk x TeamMate!Reader.

Word count: 2715.

Please check out Part 3 if you haven’t, I think tumblr hid it for some people :( I promise it’s worth it.

You open one eye and look at Wanda sitting next to your bed.

“You should go help.” You say softly, but you cough violently right after.

“The battle is over. After you closed the portal, it got easier. All things considered.” Wanda stands up going to you. “Now go back to sleep, you need to rest. You almost died.”

“Please.” You dismiss her with your hand. “I almost die a lot.”

She chuckles at your response, but you agree with your head, because you are feeling tired anyway, and slowly you let yourself fall back to sleep.

When you wake up again, it doesn’t feel like much time has passed, but Wanda is nowhere to be found. You sit up on the bed, looking around. You get a glimpse of yourself in the window and your eyes widen. Wow, you look a lot worse than how you feel. You look like you’ve been in the middle of an explosion. Oh, wait. Did you really go to outer space? On the list of your life’s bad decisions, this is definitely number one, easy.

“Hey!” You hear, and turn to the door to see Wanda there. “You up. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better than how I’m looking.” You say, making her smile softly at you.

“Stark sent this for you.” She shows you a box of donuts and your mouth drops, almost comically. “He said if you didn’t like donuts, you were probably insane.”

“Well, donuts happen to be my favorite food, so-” You raise your arms, and she gives you the box. “Come on, let’s share.”

You open the box and find a little sticky note there, with a scribbled handwriting

Donuts are for geniuses who save the world - Mr. Playboy

You smile, ripping it off the box and shoving in your pocket. Wanda sits next to you, and you smile at her, before diving in for the food.

“So, is everyone ok?”

“Yeah, pretty beaten down and tired, but we won.” She shrugs, and you agree with your head. It feels good to hear this. We won. You’re a part of it, and she wants to make sure you know that. “Well, we couldn’t possibly have done it without you.”

“Oh please. Mister Thor could have gone to space, or I don’t know, anyone else?” You shuffle in bed uncomfortable. “It’s not like I can actually breathe in outer space.”

“Wait, what?” Wanda’s brows are pinched together at the sound of that. “And you went anyways?”

“Well, we needed to close the portal.”

“Thor could have gone. Do you realize you could have died?” She looks shocked by the revelation and you smile.

“Yeah, but it was either me or millions of people back on Earth.” You shrug, then push her with your shoulder. “Besides, I didn’t, right?”

“You’re a superhero alright.” Wanda says making your smile open wider. That sounds good. Really good. “You know the fight is over, right?” She asks and you agree with your head, mouth full of donuts. “Strange can send you home.”

“Oh.” You look at her, cleaning the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah. That’s great.”

“Wait.” Wanda leaves your room, but comes back a minute later with a polaroid camera. “So I don’t think I’ve imagined you.”

“Oh, you totally did.” You smile, looking at her, sitting in bed next to you. “I’m pretty sure we’re all in a very elaborated dream caused by an imp from the fifth dimension.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She says, and you shrug, throwing your arm around her shoulder and making a funny face.

“Take two.” You ask and she agrees, taking another one, where the both of you are smiling.

“I don’t mean to interrupt the fun.” Vision appears in your bedroom, coming from a wall, and you jump in bed from the scare.

“Vis! We talked about this. The door is right there!” Wanda points at it, and you laugh.

“Oh come on, if you could phase into a room, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t use a door.” You tell her and Vision agrees with his head.

“It’s not exactly phasing, I’m just manipulating my density so I can become intangible.” He corrects, and you and Wanda look at each other holding a laugh. “Well, I came to offer you my services.”

“How come?”

“You are looking, if you allow me to say-” He asks and you nod so he goes on. “Rather beat up. I was thinking I could use the solar energy on you, to help your recovery.”

“That would be really helpful, in fact.” You say with a smile, and he agrees, getting ready to shoot you with it.

It all happens too fast. One second Vision is shooting you with solar energy, next second a portal is opening up in the bedroom, and the very next Supergirl is throwing herself on him, yelling:

“GET AWAY FROM MY KID!”

It’s so fast, it takes you a few more seconds to acknowledge the whole scene going on before you.

“Vision, don’t engage.” You ask, standing up. And you look at Wanda. “Wanda, stop her!”

“Stop me?” Kara yells in shock and Wanda quickly separates your momma from Vision with her powers. She involves your momma with it, making it impossible for Kara to move.

“What are you doing?” You ask Kara, who just looks at you so in shock like she doesn’t know what to say.

“He-He was shooting you with a… With that thing on his head!” Kara justifies herself and looks at Wanda on the other side of the room. “And she’s doing whatever this is.”

“He was helping me!” You look at Wanda again, giving her a little nod. “She’s going to put you down if you promise not to engage again.”

“I-I’m-Ugh! Fine!” Kara reluctantly agrees and Wanda puts her down.

“Guys, these are my moms!” You point to Lena and Kara on the other side of the room, and run to them so you can hug them. Kara holds you tight, while staring at the heroes on the other side of the room. “Ok, momma.” You try to get out of her embrace. “Momma, can I hug mom now?”

“Oh. Ok.” Kara finally let’s go, and you move to Lena’s arms. But you see Kara is still in a defensive position, ready to get into a fight at any moment.

“Hey.” You hold her arm. “You can relax now. They’re my friends.”

“No, they’re not. They kidnapped you.” She says without taking her eyes from them.

“We didn’t, actually. She decided to stay for the battle.” Vision corrects her, and you see that Kara is not buying into it.

“What battle?” Lena asks, with furrowed brows.

“Long story! Anyways, you guys are here now.” You look at the device on Lena’s hand. “And that means we can leave.”

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Wanda asks. “To everyone else?”

“Yeah. Let’s go outside.” You guide your moms out of the compound, and look inside with a smile on your face. You know this was your house for less than two days, but still felt pretty good to be here. You press the comm on your ear. “Smart mouth to Mister Playboy.”

“You better have left me some donuts, kid.” You listen coming from your comm, and you smile harder. Well, if donuts are for geniuses who saved the world, he certainly deserves some.

“Come outside.” You ask, and it doesn’t take long for him to show up at the front door. He walks towards you, well-aware of what these two women behind you mean.

“So, you’re leaving.” He says matter-of-factly, and you nod. “Finally.” You smile and roll your eyes. He comes closer and raises his hand at you. You shake it. “We had a good run.”

“We did.” You agree, because he is right. All the bantering, the jokes, him having your back, picking you up while you fell from the sky. It was a pretty good run.

“Ok. I don’t do sentimental.” He says, but still looks at Lena and Kara, nodding like he’s saying hello. “Just make sure she knows that she helped. What she did was very brave, and also somehow very stupid-” He raises his eyebrow at you. “But mostly very brave for someone her age. I’ll be sure to keep in touch whenever I need a little hand here.”

“Maybe with a grown up this time?” Kara says and he waves her off with his hand.

“Nah. I like the kid.” You can see a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth, but he fakes it. So, you hold back your smile too. “Did you guys bring your own portal, or should I call Strange to send you back home?”

Lena shows him their portal, and he agrees with his head.

“Guess you weren’t lying about L Corp.” He says, looking at the logo on the device, and you agree with you head. “Then, expect a bill coming soon.”

“Bye, Mister Playboy.” You wave goodbye and he shuffles pretending to be unbothered by you leaving.

“Bye, smart mouth.”

Lena turns on the device and you’re almost walking through the portal, when you see the rest of the team showing up.

“You forgot to say goodbye to some people.” Stark says and your smile grows wider, looking at everyone in front of you.

Kara looks shocked by the amount of people in the garden, looking sad about you leaving. Her hand goes to your shoulder, protectively and almost scared they’ll take you from her again.

“Hey, kindergarten.” Bucky is the first one to talk. “Thanks for the help out there.”

“Nice work there, kid.” Cap comes forward with his hand raised so you can shake it. You do so. “Thanks for the back-up.” He smiles softly, baby blue eyes turn to your moms, assuring. “Great kid! You should be proud.”

“Forgive me about the kidnapping part.” Strange comes forward and you smile down, while Kara throws a possessive arm around your shoulder, and Lena holds your arm, which makes you smile harder. “She was of great assistance. She fits right in.”

“Superkid, daughter of Kara and Lena, good fight out there. If you're ever in Asgard, come join me for a beer.” Is Thor who talks next.

“Thor, she is a kid.” Banner says, making you, and some other Avengers, laugh.

“Nonsense.” It’s Thor’s answer. “This girl can lift Mjölnir when none of you were worthy enough to do it. For a mighty warrior like her there shouldn’t exist Midgardian rules like such. She can have a beer if she wants to.”

You look up to Lena who discreetly shakes her head in denial to you. You shrug.

“It was nice meeting you, science pal.” Banner says and you smile at that. “Thank you for the lesson about the multiverse.”

“Thank you for the lesson about nuclear physics.”

“Sorry about the gunshot, kid. Nice fight.” Natasha says and you agree with your head. “Your Earth is lucky to have you.”

“Thanks for making fun of Bucky.” Sam fist bumps you and smiles, listening to Bucky mumble something like ‘I made fun of her’. “Oh yeah, and for the fight thing.”

“Here.” Wanda sneaks in something in your pocket and smiles at you. “It’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’ll see you around. Around the grey area, maybe.” You say, hugging her and she hugs you tight for a minute, before letting you go.

“And we’ll survive together.” She agrees with her head, and smiles at you.

“Is that everyone?” Kara asks, looking at you and you agree with your head when you don’t see Vision.

“Excuse me, Superkid. I would like to personally thank you for your help and care towards Wanda.” He appears before you, coming from out of nowhere.

“Vis.” Wanda says, blushing a little.

“I hope we fight together again. It’s always refreshing seeing someone genuinely good in the world.” He says and it’s your time to blush. “I won’t keep talking longer. Your moms must be eager to take you home, as we are to keep you here.”

“She’s going home.” Kara’s firm grip tights around your shoulder.

“Unless she wants to stay.” You hear Stark’s voice and you smile, knowing he is absolutely messing with your moms. “There’s always space in the compound, if she agrees not to break it. And as Strange said, she fits right in.”

“We thank you for your offer.” Lena answers, slowly pulling you and Kara back to the portal. “But we have to go now.”

“Of course. Of course.” Thor says, winking at you. “You obviously can’t stay here, but Asgard waits for you. You call, and I’ll send Bifrost for you.”

“Ok! Well, I don’t know what Bifrost is, but she is not traveling to another planet. Say goodbye now, baby.” Kara asks, squeezing your shoulder and slowly walking backwards.

“Bye ‘the Avengers’! Whenever you guys need a hand, Cape-guy knows where to find me and Thor can send Bifrost! I hope we meet again soon.” You smile, and Kara pulls you into the portal before anyone else says anything.

“Oooof, that was close!” Kara says, after Lena closes the portal behind you, and she looks around to make sure you three are alone. “I actually thought they would keep you right there.” She breathes in relief, when she realizes there’s no reason to worry anymore because you are home. She hugs you tight and Lena joins in the hug too. You three stay there for a few good minutes, until you make motion to move.

“No, no.” Kara says still pulling you in. “We’re still hugging. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Momma.” You look up to her face. “I’m not going anywhere.” You assure her and she lets you go slowly.

“I’m sorry little one, but you made a lot of friends.” She reaches for your cheek, stroking it gently. “And they seem to like you very much. And all of them were so impressed by you that they wanted you to stay.”

“I know!” You beam excitedly. “Even Mister Stark.”

“Yeah!” Kara agrees looking at Lena from the corner of her eyes, and she whispers to your mom. “Who’s Mister Stark?”

“Isn’t he the one that said you did something very brave, but also very stupid?” Lena asks and you open a forced smile at them. They raise their eyebrows at you.

“I may have gone to outer space and kicked off a bomb that would close the connection between the worlds, and I almost died while doing so.” You say with the same forced smile, while they realize what you just said.

“You may have or you did?” Lena raises an eyebrow at you.

“I may have did.” You shrug. “But I didn’t die!”

“You don’t say.” Lena pulls you in for a hug again, kissing your forehead. “Is there a way for you and your momma to save the world without putting yourselves in dying conditions?”

“No.” You and Kara say at the same time, earning a sigh from Lena.

“I’m sorry for making you guys worried. They needed help in this battle and I, well, I helped. And also, Mister Strange said he left a card?” You ask and they agree with their heads.

“It could’ve been more direct, though.” Lena says and she and Kara exchange a look. “But he did leave the directions, at least.”

“So, tell us everything. About everyone. I can’t wait to hear about your adventures.” Kara asks excitedly and you smile feeling the same way.

“Sure. But can it be over pizza?” You raise an eyebrow at them, and they agree with their heads.

You look down to what’s in your pocket, and you pick it up to look at the picture of you and Wanda making funny faces. Next to it a sticky note signed by Mister Playboy himself. You can’t help a wide smile that comes to your lips. Good. It wasn't a very elaborated induced dream from an imp of the fifth dimension. It was real. All of that. The fight, the jokes, the friends. Everything was real.

“Ready, kid?” Kara asks and you put both items back in your pocket.

“I am now.”

Notes:

Thanks @oncemoonie for the prompt, I loved mixing my two passions and I hope you guys liked it too!

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #lena luthor #supercorpfamily #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert #wanda maximoff #vision #sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #thor odinson #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #tony stark #doctor strange

[saberstars]

I'm Here

Pairing: Gender Neutral Y/N & Loki

Fluff, angst, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of depression/mental illness, epilepsy/seizures, mentions of sex, as always if I missed anything feel free to let me know

Summary: Loki & You have a pre-existing friendship with benefits & one night you have a seizure after some spiciness. He cares for you helping you afterwards & makes sure you rest easy & safe. Reader is portrayed to have seizures more so during changes in sleep phases, not awake. The wake seizures or more of a medium ish absence/ focal aware seizure that only occur on occasion & can be “fought” through.

Word Count: 1796

Notes: This was intended to be a gender neutral reader. I think I removed all he/she pronouns.

Additionally, I know that not everyone experiences seizures the same way, and that epilepsy can affect people differently. This is all written from my experiences with it, so I ask that you do not tell me I portrayed something wrong. I can and will accept constructive criticism, But I will not accept someone telling me blatantly that I am wrong with my experiences. Therefore please keep that in mind when reading. I genuinely hope this fic brings others comfort if you suffer from epilepsy or any disorder that causes seizures. Thank You <3

It’s been three years since you found out you suffered from epilepsy. A diagnosis that came late in your life to be fair. As a young child up until you reached adulthood, you suffered from eye shakes that would eventually turn into stuttering spells that made it difficult to breath or not breath properly at all. You never passed out though, you got close a few times, but you managed to stay awake and “fight it off.” You started to notice over time that you’d also get a strange taste in your mouth, almost like metal or as if you were sucking on a battery and it had that zing flavor. You knew that was a precursor and would panic on cue rightfully so. You hated when you had your mini stutter fests because all you could do was hope it didn’t happen.

Of course you complained to your parents as a child but they didn’t think it was anything. They said it was just a panic attack. So you took their word for it. That was until you started having grand mals in your sleep. At first you thought they were just a part of some strange dream, that wasn't real to you, not yet anyway. You would wake up exhausted, sore, sometimes unable to move properly, walk, open and close a fist, and you just overall couldn't stay conscious sometimes. Again you complained to your parents about it, but they said it was nothing. You probably had night terrors or some form of minor sleep paralysis. So you dumbly believed them.

When you moved out, You sought answers, and eventually got them. You were grateful. The medication they prescribed helped tremendously though, it did make you tired but it was worth not having your episodes. Thankfully your case wasn’t as severe as others and it was manageable so long as you took care of yourself and took your medications. Though you were warned, breakthroughs were common, and missing your dose can and would cause a seizure.

Despite having such a diagnosis, you kept it to yourself. You never really told anyone. It wasn’t until you started sleeping with a friend, that you finally divulged your secret too in the event that it ever happened whilst they were with you.

It was someone you randomly slept with on and off with. A friend with benefits, his name was Loki. You had met the god shortly after his father had passed and his home, destroyed. You found comfort with each other despite it being more of a sexual comfort. You both used sex as a way to fight your own demons, a distraction, a quick grab at serotonin. Despite the sex you both developed a very deep friendship. You’d read together on occasion, have very interesting debates on current events, history, as well as other nuances, and a lot of other things. You even met his brother and the avengers at one point.

You both slept soundly after spicy events had taken place 2 hours prior, Loki had come over desperate for attention of any kind. He didn’t say why, but you knew it was a rather serious topic he wished not to discuss and rather lessen the pain with ecstasy. Little did you know, on this day a few years ago he indirectly murdered his mother. He blamed himself dearly, he knew if he would have kept his mouth shut for once in his life she may be here today. So he needed a genuine distraction. One of any kind. Preferable you. Due to the spicy events that took place you missed your dose, due to falling asleep promptly after, which cost you dearly. Missing doses always caused this to happen no matter what.

You gasped for air like usual, your body contorting outwards first with a thrust. You were awake, conscious, and terrified for the few seconds you normally were given before blacking out. You began to stutter violently all the air leaving your lungs as it happened. Until no sounds were made and it was just you chattering. Loki woke immediately, with a completely calm exterior despite a raging mixture of emotions internally. He knew you never called an ambulance for these things because you were normally alone & unaware until you became conscious again. She made him promise to never call 911 unless it was over a certain time length, to save her medical expenses, or unless she stopped breathing for good.

Loki dare not touch you though as you shook and curled up. The last thing he wanted was his godly strength to crush you somehow or cause you more pain. Instead he watched and hovered until you finally stopped. It was a short 50 second one, which was under your time limit, but he still debated calling. It’s not like You would’ve known he lied.

His breathing hitched as he went to check your pulse and airway, ever so delicately, which were both clear and strong.

“Oh thank you.” he whispered

A few hours had slid by with still no response from you. Loki sat next to you, staring down at you, to the point where he would fight the urge to blink, waiting for a stir of some kind from you. He did give the courtesy of redressing you though, in a nightgown from a drawer after an hour slid past. He even went as far as ensuring that you were adequately covered by the blankets to avoid being chilled. It has been 3 ½ hours now, with no stir of any kind from you. He knew it would be awhile before you showed any signs of movement possibly but this worry tore him to his core. In the midst of waiting he refused to just idly go back to sleep next to you, he was determined to stay awake until you were conscious again, so that you knew, he stayed there waiting for you. Loki didn’t know when he found himself talking to you as if you were awake, but all he knew was that it made him feel a bit better, and he hoped that when you woke it would make you feel better too.

“You know, I’ve been reading this really dumb gothic romance novel. I think you’d like it because of how naive the girl is. I know you like to criticize and pick on how they make decisions.” he spoke with a chuckle in his voice thinking back to how you’d flail your arms and drop your book to scream about how dumb some main protagnist could be.

“I'll have to buy you a copy or give you mine when I’m done.” Loki shifted his weight from his right to his left brushing your bangs out of your eyes.

“I don’t know why you keep those so long, all they do is get in the way of your gorgeous eyes.”

It was in that moment you rustled, you shifted your neck ever so slightly, Your eyelids twitch. Loki leaned forward parting his lips as he watched with a heart of hope completely overwhelmed with joy when he saw the color of your iris’s. He exhaled a shaky breath cupping your cheeks which caused you to flinch sending a wave of shocks through your body. It was at that moment you knew. You knew what he saw, what he had gone through. Your heart sank and you immediately berated yourself internally despite your exhausted state.

“It’s ok you don’t have to say or do anything. I’ll stay, I’ll take care of you for as long as you need.” Loki assured you, wanting you to know that you didn’t have to go through this alone. You never really had anyone stay, let alone worry about you. Your eyes began to water as tears rolled down your face.

“I’ll go grab you some water, you’re probably parched. I’ll also grab you a banana. I read that potassium can help with the cramping.” Loki said leaving to yourself for a moment. He also grabbed tissues for your eyes and nose just in case. Upon returning her placed everything at your side offering help to sit up. “Do you need to use the bathroom or help sitting up?” He asked with a gentle tone.

You nodded trying to take a good deep breath so you could speak a bit. “I’m so sorry you had to see that… but thank you. Thank you for staying, for helping. I do need the bathroom and I would appreciate help. My legs are still...” you mustered out with all your might but after a point your tongue refused to work with you.

“Of course, I may be a monster but I’m not entirely cruel. If it helps… you can just think to yourself and I can listen that way. So that you're not struggling too much.” Loki admitted with a tone of self depreciation.

“You're not a monster just because you're different & have made mistakes.” you thought as Loki picked you up bridal style walking you to the bathroom. Of course he placed you down on the toilet and waited outside for you to do what you needed. Since he had only added a nightgown to your previously naked body it made things easier. It was exhausting to just sit up and do everything but you pushed through. You even pushed yourself up and limped to the sink best you could to wash your hands. Upon hearing the faucet though Loki came back in standing behind you offering support if needed.

“Catch me~” you thought before falling back into his arms with a snort.

“You're lucky I have godlike reflexes you minx.” He replied with a hint of flirtation. You had used more than you had in you to wash your hand. Loki caught you obviously and carried you back to the room placing you back on the bed. “No, more like I knew you were ready to catch me.” you slowly thought as exhaustion tugged at your consciousness again. Loki noticed the pill bottle on your dresser before prompting you to take it. Instinctively opening it and sliding one into his hand.

“You should probably take this before you fall asleep.” You took it mentally saying thanks drinking the glass of water with it.

“Yeah that would probably help avoid some added breakdancing.” You joked trying to use humor to lighten the situation. Loki stared plain faced trying not to entertain your joke though, despite finding it secretly witty. Maybe he’d laugh at it when you felt a bit better. Soon after you began to dance between awake and sleep. Loki took note based on how your thoughts jumbled around between multiple things, laughing to himself a bit before minor intrusive fears began picking at you. Loki immediately jumped into action in an attempt to squash them soothing you a bit.

“You can sleep soundly, please get some rest. You don’t have to force yourself to stay awake out of fear or guilt.” Loki spoke in the most caring and sweet tone he could muster up. Trying to convince you that it was going to be ok & it worked. Somehow you knew he was right & that you could trust him completely. You drifted back to sleep peacefully thinking about how for the first time in your life, you didn’t fear sleeping in your bed. You didn’t have intrusive thoughts about whether or not you’d wake up in the morning or not. Which honestly brought tears bubbling their way up and out of Loki's eyes. The amount of trust you had in him in your thoughts, at that moment completely took his breath away. And that was something he wasn’t going to break or ever lose.

#My Fics #loki laufeyson #loki headcanons #loki angst #loki fluf #loki x y/n #loki odinson #loki (marvel) #loki fanfiction #loki #mcu loki #loki drabble #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki x reader fluff #loki x gender neutral reader

[kcatta-wodahs]

MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers

Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.

Lucifer

You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.

“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”

He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”

You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”

As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.

Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.

His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.

But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog

Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.

despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident

Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop. 

He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down. 

 But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.

Mammon

“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”

Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.

Lucifer would kill him.

You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.

“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”

And you sneak out the fucking window.

He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.

He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you. 

He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death. 

He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.

He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.

And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.

So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?

Leviathan

I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.

‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’

‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back

You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.

You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)

‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’

‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’

He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.

How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?

He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers. 

Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL. 

Beelzebub

He physically carries you around.

He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”

If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away. 

But at the same time, he is very easily bribed. 

So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.

But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.

If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.

You like having Beel with you.

Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.

But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead. 

“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”

He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.

Asmodeus

“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”

He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.

GREY HAIRS, MC.

Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!

But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.

He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.

That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.

“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”

Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.

And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.

And you just say “he deserved it” every time.

And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.

dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.

Satan

At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.

I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.

But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.

Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted

Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).

And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you. 

And the thing is, this keeps happening.

You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.

You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”

(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)

Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?

No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”. 

No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.

Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.

I thought you hated him. Satan, wait. 

You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness. 

Belphegor

Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.

He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.

But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.” 

Frankly, that’s rude, MC. 

And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”

He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?

No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.

And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like

Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????

Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC 

“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”

You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”

What the fuck MC

When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.

He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.

But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shitposts #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #bast babbles #my writing #obey me headcanons #gender neutral mc #re-reading this makes me vibrate with the need to destroy things #tldr is that humans are fucked up

[pourquoiyyy]

This episode was so good wtf

Like I know it was 1 hour and 27 minutes so they had time, but still, something I don’t like with dramas is that very often an issue drags on for a whole episode or several episodes or a season, but in lovely writer so many things happen in each episode and in this one damn

So much happened???? And it’s very often sadly easy to see where the plot of a drama is going but I keep getting surprised by lovely writer, like they don’t take the easy BL route

This got quite long so…

First, Aey is trying to mess with Gene and Nubsib’s relationships ? Well, yeah, but actually he’s in love with Gene and I really have to watch the episodes again because I really didn’t see that coming, I was so convinced he liked Nubsib??? What clues did I miss?

(also Aey has a very very bad problem with his own self-image and self-worth, he did some very bad things this episode, but this scene of him watching his reflection in his phone, boyyyyyyy, Bruce is a good actor. And like it was a long scene, but it didn’t feel like it, it didn’t feel like time wasted in the episode)

Nubsib is angry at Gene ? Nope, just worried

Aey drugged Nubsib and Gene is trying to find a way to get out this night pUrE? No, my boy Gene is just worried about having sex with Sib for the first time AND actually Sib is somehow just feeling hot and not under any influence, he was just really really into Gene that night

Also so much kissing in this episode?? Like Sib and Gene are in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and they can finally admit to each other how much they love one another. I’m not saying kissing is essential to show in a drama btw, but it sometimes feels in BL dramas that the characters are allowed a quota of kisses per season or episode and once they’ve reached it, it’s DONE, you’ll get a cheek/forehead/hair kiss or a hug, or a high five, but that’s it, and again, it’s not that I absolutely want the characters to kiss, but I can’t help but think sometimes that would it be reality, these people would be kissing right now. So like before Sib’s mum arrived when they were on the couch, the situation they were in really called for a kiss, they were just gazing at each other, excited about this new development in their relationship, but I was in my usual BL mindset of « well, they’ve already kissed enough in this ep » and then they went and surprised me with an another kiss? And not just like a small peck like I’m used to in BL (which again, these aren’t bad, but realistically speaking, this really wasn’t what Gene and Nubsib wanted at that moment) It shouldn’t be surprising, but still it was

AND BAM! The coming out to your parents plot (that is sometimes THE WHOLE ISSUE OF A SEASON, I’m looking at you Korn and Knock) that I didn’t expect in an episode where so much had happened already. So I thought, yeah, they might just pretend they’re not together, we’ll hear some not too good comments from the parents about BL because Gene writes BL novels and Nubsib is acting in one, but nope, they wanted to prove my assumptions wrong again and Gene said he didn’t want to lie to their parents anymore! So yeah, we did hear some homophobia, interesting comments about BL fangirls and how much of a trend BL is right now and it almost seemed like Sib and Gene had changed their minds, but then Gene surprised me AGAIN and they revealed the fact that they’re dating to their parents.

And usually coming out plots drag on which I can understand because coming out to your family isn’t easy, but in lovely writer, in 30 minutes they did so much! Also, in the preview they showed only some parts of this plot carrying on, but I’m pretty sure that like usual with this series, it won’t take the whole episode, maybe the first half of it. And if it does take the whole episode, I won’t be disappointed because I quite like what they’ve done with it already

The double standard of the mothers finding BL cute, but maybe not if it’s their sons. They were saying it would be nice if their sons were actually together, that two grooms in suits would be adorable and that their families would be even closer, but really when Gene and Nubsib admitted they were really together, they went quiet, they cried, they didn’t defend their sons’ relationship to their husbands.

Aaah, the fathers! I expected them to have the worst reactions to Gene’s and Sib’s coming out and also sadly the most « typical »  that we see in series. And they did but not in the usual way it goes. It was really interesting to look at them and see how completely different their reactions were. Nubsib’s father was more about: be careful about my reputation, the reputation of my company and the reputation of this family, and treated his son’s love for Gene like a child’s infatuation that’s gone too far. The authoritative father that won’t even let his son speak and explain, Nubsib could only follow his orders.

While for Gene’s father, it was completely different. He was really really quiet and seemed really suspicious of their relationship before they revealed it and after they did, he just didn’t say a word while his wife kept throwing him worried glances. Then, when it was just their family left, he refused to talk to Gene, just telling him to go to his room until Gene got angry (and again surprised me) saying he was gay (an actual character saying he is gay in a thai bl series, it shouldn’t feel like victory but it does) and loved Nubsib and wouldn’t stop so why couldn’t his dad accept it? Before, AGAIN, dropping a big ass bomb, Gene’s father dated men (or a man) before marrying his mother. As much as this episode surprised me, this shocked me the most lol, I really didn’t expect THAT, but it’d explain Gene’s father’s reaction

Homophobia of course still exists today, but it was even worse when he was young and he never came out and probably chose to leave his partner and lead a « normal » straight life. Seeing your son at around the same age in the same situation but making completely differents choices, choosing to embrace his homosexuality and his love for Nubsib, well, I can understand that he needs a little time to accept this situation and talk to his son

This has become very long and I didn’t think I had that much to say about this episode, but boy I have even more, I loved so much about it. But first:

I HATED that Aey pretended to have drugged Nubsib, especially since he actually wanted to drug Gene and what, rape him??? And then laughing about it? Uh uh boy. Still, I really love Aey’s character, he keeps surprising me and I’m looking forward to his character development.

Otherwise, loved this episode. Gene in particular was really interesting: his conversations with Aey, the way his first time with Sib went (and wow, Sib’s innuendos in this episode, I still can’t get this image of him with his toothbrush in his mouth out of my mind), his bravery coming out to his parents and saying he was gay and forcing his dad to have this conversation and not avoid it.

Loved how supportive the brothers were, trying to tell their parents that society was much more open and accepting nowadays, helping their brothers as well as they could.

On a same note, Gene’s brother getting angry at their father on Gene’s behalf. I loved how their dialogue went about expectations and disappointment in a parent-child relationship, love me some family drama.

Gene and Nubsib holding hands under the table while facing their family’s disapproval

I’m going to stop here because this post is way too long for something probably only me is going to read, but I needed to write my thoughts to get them out of my head

Very raw thoughts btw, I need to reflect on this episode A LOT and rewatch it probably

#lovely writer #i had A LOT of thoughts and needed to get them out #i really didn't expect to love lovely writer as much as i do #but these days it's the series i'm waiting for the most every week #especially since the last 2-3 episodes #very often some bl dramas bore me and i put them on x2 speed #i never do it with lovely writer #it manages to keep me interested all the time #it surprises me a lot (i won't count how many time i've written surprise and again in this post lol) #it never feels boring #the characters are really interesting and not one-dimensional #(except for some maybe like the director or the editor but the series is not over so...) #also i didn't mention it but wtf with tiffy's research??? does she actually like tum but thinks he's gay???? #or she was asking this question about someone else? #i didn't get this #but at least we saw her in this ep #which #always a blessing to see her #how many times*

[datawyrms]

Changed Hunt

For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww) lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well

"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."

Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)

Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard  that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.

Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.

It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.

“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”

Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.

“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”

Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn��t working, and the glow just grew  brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.

“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.

“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”

“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.

So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal. It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.

He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.

“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”

“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”

“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.

First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out.  Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!

Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”

The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.

“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”

“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”

“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”

Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”

Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”

“Wall art?”

Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?

At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”

“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”

“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”

Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better!  What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.

“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”

Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”

That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”

“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!” 

More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”

“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”

“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”

Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.

“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”

Greeeeeeat.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight 2021 #dannymay2021 #skulker #unfinished im sorry fsljfsfs #i took longer writing then i meant to #but uh. i can use other prompts to finish #or something #i swear this was mostly meant to be funny but i didn't get to the funny bit yet

[dropsofletters]

honey on the third column.

➡ summary: the third column of the publicity section on the local newspaper belongs to baekhyun’s salon. women and men gather with the desire of feeling a change—as if some snips on strands of hair could be the highlight of their day. a columnist in the sports section like her could not understand it.

➡ title: honey on the third column ➡ pairing: byun baekhyun x reader ➡ genre: hairdresser!au ; newspaper columnist!au ; strangers to lovers!au ➡ word count: 19,357 ➡ type: fluff ; romance ; humor ; angst

Walking under the rain had never been important until she had to do it on her own.

She does not appreciate, perhaps, that her notebook has welcomed some splatters of the rain, orange umbrella moved by the wind of the lilac skies, home of the details of her column. A pointed arrow goes to the jersey that clads her body, far too cold for the unexpected appearance of a rainy afternoon, for there is something so inherently busy about writing for the sports section of the newspaper.

One moment of the year, it is baseball season. Soon after, she has to rush for the soccer season, the busiest one of the year. Not to forget the importance of preparing for the Olympics, far more complex in the amount of sports that they hold under their weight. With every boxing match that happens, she has to study the most hidden of portions of an athlete’s life, and getting an interview is almost impossible. That, paired up with the rain, is enough to bring a frown to her face, moving through the sides of the street with her sneakers becoming brown with mud.

Had it been another year, this would have not happened to her. Her feet would be propped up on her coffee table, instead of covered in socks that hold onto them like a nest to a tree. Her arms would be caged in the warmth of the person that would have probably held that small, old thing that she dares call an umbrella—and his name almost passes her head. No. It does. Time may have passed, if two months is even considered time, but with one push towards the glassed doors of the nearest restaurant, she scoffs at the annoyance that bubbles inside of her, along with…attachment for what she can’t have anymore.

This restaurant is familiar, reason as to why she was invited to come here after work on the first place. It exudes elegance, just as it keeps her grounded in exactly what she should be worrying about—sports. Something about its spaciousness brings a sense of being accompanied, for people who can’t get enough of being surrounded by others. This is clearly not her choice; over everything, she prefers separated tables, small establishments and more often than not owns her watchful gaze for games to only be shared on the expanse of her living room. Yet, saying that it is not her style does not mean that it is not anyone else’s, and it fits the concept of the man that writes the sports column on the local newspaper with her—

Kim Jongin. Honeyed skin heartthrob. Way out of anyone’s league. Unexpectedly venturing away from magazines and their impossible beauty-standards and going for something more simplistic. Restaurants filled with chatter. Columns that are read, but not remembered. And a partner in his column that tries her best to sneak a smile when he catches her gaze, but she is unable to.

Smelling like rain, mud, and something of the like of humidity, she thinks it is an uncertainty if she would ever smile again. To the world. To Jongin. To her job. Not even watching her favorite volleyball team win could ever give her the benefit of feeling happiness again.

The day she met Kim Jongin remains a tale as old as time. He was twenty-three at the time, chocolate brown hair cascading on the sides of his face when he peaked his head from behind his own cramped office. The computer had covered half of his face, keeping a secret his plush lips and that lop-sided smile, the stutter that had left him had almost been laughable. Scary, Jongin had once said she was, enough to make a bone feel flaccid and a lake to stop moving.

These days, she may still be so. Jongin is no longer affected, beige cardigan thrown over a white t-shirt, fingers splaying his chopsticks before taking another bite of meat, his attention clearly diverted by the game on the television screen. She hears the commentators saying something about Messi, and for the briefest of seconds, she finds herself engulfed in the Real Madrid against Barcelona match. Typical enemies that, somehow, have divided people in the world more than they already are. There, with her bag extending on top of the table and her notebook placed on its surface, she starts to wonder what makes her scary…

Is it, maybe, that she has a rough tone on her voice?

Is it the frown that never leaves her, the obstinate state of mind that makes her a hater of everything that screams happiness and joy—?

Or is it that, once again, just when she feels like her life is being shown a glimmer of hope, given a slice of love, it is taken away from her by ghosts of memories that scream out those words that she knows too well?

I don’t think I can stand being with you anymore.

Pathetic, she knows that is the perfect adjective for her romantic life—and as a columnist, she has studied verbs and adjectives more than the vowels. In a limbo, she exists, one in which she opens the gates of her heart to a man that captures her with silent charisma and just when she thinks she is bound to leave it all in the name of love, they scavenge away from her.

“You ordered without me?” Finally, her back comes in contact with the warmth of a seat, navy cushions welcoming the expanse of her muscles.

Jongin’s lips are puckered up, a glimpse of sauce on the corner of them, when he nods with widened, innocent eyes. For having almost every woman from ages twenty to sixty-five in the office going head over heels for him, Jongin’s heartthrob phase dulls upon seeing his truest colors. Softened, like coffee with milk and just a hint of caffeine in there. “You were taking too long.”

“If you would have gone with me to this interview, you would have known what I was facing.” She answers, eyes pulling away from the screen to snatch the menu on the middle of the table. Her ears are ringing, perhaps from the loud noise of the device, or because she had to hear the shouts of over twenty parents screaming at her to just ask one more question. “The local baseball team are lucky that they have a social media presence, because they are not that good.”

“They’re children,” Jongin says, just in time for her to skim over the salads and go for something stronger. A nice, tall glass of beer sounds right about now—paired with a vegan hamburger and the densest of sauces paired up with it, garlic-based just to bring that punch of something to make her feel alive. Even a stomachache would be welcomed by now. “Don’t be so harsh on them.”

“You know, just because they are children doesn’t mean we don’t get to tell them that they have to practice harder to become someone in life.” And that, along with Jongin’s scowl, is enough to show the determination of her dread. Younger, she had once been, and an athlete at that. Wrists itching after practices were over, jumps done to smack the ball on the other side of the game, cheering loudly upon winning along with her team. Loose shorts and little-to-no-attention from anyone at school, being part of the volleyball team had worked well for her. Enough to have knowledge in other sports and earn a spot at her workplace, but not good enough to be the next Misty May-Treanor.

Everything had ended before graduation. The regionals were the main goal for the female school team of volleyball, only to integrate a new leader and have her out of the game before the main event. Gone were the days of practice after school, of aches on her legs that made her feel as if she had somewhere to exist and live in. Never had she gotten a new opportunity, neither had she been brave enough to know what happened to those whom she had considered her best friends after graduation. Hell was an understatement for what she felt at the time.

On and off again, she discovered by her own that playing was not fun when not around those who believed in her at the beginning. If anything, her talent must be the cause of the exchange. Limbs too fragile, perhaps, or too much determination on winning—competitive to the point it got the worst of her. Screams. Shouts. Demands. It was just a game, but it had become her life.

Jongin tilts his head to the side, inspects her for a second before he puts his chopsticks down, dipping the meat in some sauce, taking a big bite after. “The news hit you that hard, then?”

“News?”

“Yes. The news.” The brown-haired man speaks, not much different from the first time she met him, only growing fonder of him with the passage of time. Jongin’s cubicle is right in front of hers, one push of her weight over the desk is enough for her to talk to him with, somehow, a little bit of privacy. By their side, however, the publicity division of the newspaper work with might and charisma. One that she can’t really stand at this moment. “It’s normal for you to feel betrayed for what Ingook did, but just know that none of this is your fault—”

Ingook. The cubicle next to hers, normally holding a pair of rounded sunglasses that he never wears on the corner of his desk, the picture he had of them replaced by one of his team. He is far too silent, his breaths are normally not even heard in the entirety of the office—a fan of spicy food, videogames, with a strange soft spot for the remake of Beauty and The Beast. Oh, of fucking course she knows who Ingook is.

Her ex-boyfriend.

The appeal of a man like him shows the default of her ideals. Silent, somewhat secretive, a glint on his eyes whenever he looked at her that could only be seen from up close—difficult to get, hidden from the world, dulcet to the taste and unforgettable when in his arms, under his touch, with his breath fanning over her face and he finally becomes vocal. Ingook had been the picture-perfect display of what she had always imagined to be the love of her life, only bringing a flutter to her chest when three years ago, upon his arrival at the office, something had grown in between them. In between coffee breaks and column reviews, a relationship had been kept a secret until two months ago.

It was all settled by a text, though, because Ingook may be a silent lover—and a good one, at that—but he is a coward. His eyes would waver under the mere presence of her after their break-up, never meeting her gaze and definitely, never speaking to her again.

“Wh—What? What did Ingook do?” Her voice is too soft, unlike her, her jersey trailing off one shoulder when she leans forward to listen with more intent. Years of working for a newspaper has taught her to take care of every single word she hears. “Betrayed? Why should I feel betrayed?”

“Because he has a new girl…?” Jongin trails his voice, eyes looking at all her features before he rests both hands over his mouth, concealing the gasp that had just left him. “Oh fuck, you didn’t know—!”

A few seconds are enough for her to feel a variety of sentiments on the pit of her stomach. The first one rages, it moves so quickly from her abdomen to her ears that it almost gives her whiplash—a beeping is heard, and she knows it comes directly from her brain, blood flowing faster than ever. Clear as day, her body reacts on her own, blinking rapidly as if to stop tears, but tightening her fists as if ready to fight. What a fucking cliché.

Two months and she is over and done with. Forgotten. A toy that he used for years, and yet, he needed something else. She rubs her face with open palms, groaning and sighing both at the same time to collect her thoughts. Jongin, apologetic perhaps, reaches forward to rest one hand over her hand and she has to swat it away.

“Don’t you dare pity me.” She answers, battling against the muscles of her cheek and mouth to put a smile on her face. It may look crooked, but it is the best she can do when her heart is being stepped on. Over and over again. “I’m totally fine.”

“You don’t look fine—”

“What do you know, Jongin?” Moving her head fervently, she looks him in the eye before sighing. “But I didn’t know, you are right. Is this a new thing or—?”

Jongin leans back on his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he ponders on telling her or not. “I don’t know. All I know is that people were talking about how they confirmed it just a few days ago.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“I have no idea.”

“Damn it.”

“Why would you want to know?”

Pulling away from her fingertips, pressed directly to her lips, Jongin’s watchful gaze captures her in her ministrations, because she is angry. Ingook had promised the moon and back, made her fall and go against the dating ban of the company just to be together. His payback was more than she had expected, and worse, too. “I don’t want to know,” She replies, two shrugs of her shoulders to emphasize what is a lie. For, it’s not always that someone rips her heart out and tosses it in the air a la football player. “What I should be worrying about here is that you didn’t want to tell me.”

Jongin, caught by her own words, takes a sip of his drink before smacking his lips together. “Touché.” He answers, calling the waiter over with his hand. “And that’s why I’m getting you extra beer and I’ll pay for it.”

“Thanks.” Though, that itch on the tip of her tongue stops her from concentrating on the game they had reunited to watch. “Are you sure you don’t know who Ingook is dating—?”

Jongin sighs, waving his hand with more insistence. She is getting to his nerves, clearly. “We’ll figure it out, but this shouldn’t change anything. Two months have passed by already.”

Sixty-one days are not that long. Not when her deepest fantasies still make out the figure of him and how her own lips crave for the warmth and touch of his. Sixty-one days are not justice to the nights in which he wraps himself in her dreams and how she still keeps his shirts in her closet, just in case he ever dares go back again. Sixty-one days don’t erase years of falling, of feeling, of going on and off again when imagining what could’ve been of the two of them.

“It isn’t changing anything. I had the opportunity to find someone, too, but I’m just not looking for a relationship right now.” That’s a lie, it spurts out of her with so much ease that she almost dares believe herself. She has moved on, she wants to say, but Jongin’s chocolate eyes glimmer at the mere sight of her.

Before he could ask anything else, however, the waiter arrives with a bow of his waist and a simple: “Can I get do anything for you?”

Sixty-one days are not enough to forget a lover, just like it isn’t enough to forgive them for moving on. At least, not for her.

###

“You know, I’ve yet to see you heartbroken.”

Orange colored tea is settled underneath her gaze, using two spoons to let the honey fall on the concoction she has made for her coffee-hating friend, and coworker to be exact, Kim Jongin. His eyes are trained on the side of her face, in the frustration she had when the honey doesn’t fall gracefully inside the two cups of tea she had prepared for their lunchbreak, and she has to take a deep breath upon the correlation of Jongin’s words.

“That’s because I am not heartbroken.” And he believes it, the pout on his face just dares to tell her that he is ignorant enough to believe her heart is not in ruins. Her eyes had only closed last night, but that did not mean that she had gotten an ounce of sleep. Her neighbor had gotten to her nerves. Her car almost ran out of gas. And, right now, her line of sight is trained on Ingook, seated in front of his cubicle, rice pushed past his lips as he watches something on his computer. Tranquil. “It hurt me more when Iker Casillas dropped out of soccer.”

“Right. I remember you were super sad and In—” Jongin stops himself right there, her eyes sending daggers his way when the unnamed man was almost mentioned in between them. With one last dip of the spoon inside the teacup, she passes it over to him before sighing deeply. “Is it okay if I mention him?”

“Yes.” Though, her voice becomes too high, leaning back on the table that holds the coffee machine and the kettles to watch Ingook from afar. “It’s not like I love him anymore, either way.”

She had never been a liar. Not until now.

This is the sentence that she needs to pay, to look at him and not touch him, to love him and not have him, to feel betrayed for him loving someone else when he had once promised the world to her. Silently. He is not a man of many words, and how she wishes he could’ve been more than her favorite enigma. Some puzzles are nice to solve until someone else does it in a quicker time than her, and her athlete blood still boils at the sight of competition.

He is not a price, however, Ingook is a memory that she wants to call horrid but can only consider beautiful. He is more than beautiful. Square-faced with soft eyes, the roundness of her fingertips knowing the feeling of his jaw under the smallest pressure, lips that she had kissed plenty of times, colored as an ode to cherry blossoms, wide nostrils but a thin and high-sloped bridge. She remembers kissing the freckles on his skin on the mornings, when the coconut scent of his shampoo was the first sense that welcomed her, the tuff of wavy hair parted as ever. Sixty-two days after, her heart still aches for the beauty of him, inside and out.

Tears that had been washed away by him, insecurities of hers that were traced with delicacy, a man that had thought of her stretchmarks as lines in a canvas and that relished on the laughter that they shared. Ingook’s intelligence was always her favorite—he remembered the smallest of things. From the first cut she remembers getting when falling down when she was a child, a line on her knee that she will never get rid of; to her first love, that he had always been too nice about.

Once, he dared to say: “It’s not about who gets there first, it’s about who gets there last.”

Maybe, she had been too prideful. Ingook loved her first, he had said, though he was no stranger to romance. Raw, he had loved just how raw she was to feelings. Her laughter is loud. Her feelings are boisterous. She cries with all her heart, loves with her entire soul, hates forever. And strangely enough, she doesn’t hate him.

She hates whoever got there last.

“Mhm, yeah, if you say so…” Jongin trails his voice, taking a sip of his tea before she mimics his actions. What is it worth to be someone’s first love? Some say that it is the most memorable one, but she doesn’t feel like such when Ingook lets a smile grace his features thanks to whatever he is watching, one leg crossed over the other while he wears the one shirt she had hated on him. Disgustingly shiny in navy blue. “So, you wouldn’t care if I told you I found out who is his new girl last night.”

Freeze-frame worthy is her face when she turns her head to look at him. Her movements are so precise they may be considered a dance by now. “Oh, fuck no, I do care.”

“You said you don’t love him anymore, though. Why would you care?” Jongin is too nice for his own good. Never tainting anyone’s life, neither confessing anyone’s secrets, he is the perfect friend, but not the one for this situation.

“Because.”

“Just admit you still love him.”

One blink, then two and a prideful answer after, she dares say: “No. I don’t love him.”

“Then, I won’t tell you who it is.”

She grabs the side of his vest, gray against a white button down, and she pulls him closer to her before speaking lowly. “Jongin, please.” Her voice becomes insecure, terrifyingly so. Back to square one, she is afraid of becoming that one kicked out leader of the volleyball team. Once again left alone, she is off to fend for herself. “If I didn’t love him, do you think I would be asking?”

The tea warms itself more under Jongin’s understanding gaze, who runs his free hand through his brown locks, calling her name to capture her attention. “I think it’s time to let him go.”

“I just can’t do that.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” Her eyes shake, concentrating from one of Jongin’s eyes to the other before she bites down on her bottom lip. Crying, that’s something that she has done a lot for the past few days. “I love him, Jongin. He’s all I’ve known for the past few years. All I’ve had.” She utters softly, only to finish off with a: “But now he is someone else’s.”

“Jeonghwa from the politics column. She is the one dating him.”

Jeonghwa?

The newspaper works with simplistic rules. Always be truthful to the matters that happened. Never exaggerate. Be available for every task that could be photographed or written about. Don’t date fellow columnists, photographers or anyone from the staff. The last rule was broken by her, and by Ingook, too, proclaiming to love each other in the shadows and outside of the establishment. Hands pulled away from each other’s on the work meetings or dinners. Weekends explained to the boss with details that were spared. And Ingook had been enough of a hypocrite to fall into the same trap again.

With angel-wings, beautiful lips, sweet speech Jeonghwa. Intelligent, delicate, made for the politics section. Her voice had that depth of professionalism with an ounce of sexiness, enough to make any man crazy. Not only that, but Jeonghwa had always been a nice friend of Ingook’s.

The three of them had dinner together.

Jeonghwa had complimented them on their perfectly structured relationship.

Ingook had always preferred the politics section over the sports section.

Two lying bitches.

Tea left forgotten on that table, her struts towards Ingook are not calculated, anger far from dissipated inside of her the more she moves towards him. Her hands spread on the armrest of his chair, twirling it around until she is facing him. His eyes widen, eyebrows raising the slightest in surprise, as if he is a cat that had been stepped on accidentally. That waft of his coconut shampoo reaches her again, but it makes her sick. Longing for him, she realizes there is not a way in hell he had just fallen in love with Jeonghwa in less than sixty-two days.

“You’re the worst asshole you’ve ever met in my life.” She speaks, voice ragged when Ingook does so much as part his lips to sigh delicately. “Jeonghwa, huh? When did you two start being together?”

Caught in the headlights, he tries to turn around, but her grasp is tight to keep him caged. “It’s not what you think—”

“Ingook, you told me you couldn’t stand me. You made me feel like shit for being a bad girlfriend when in reality, you wanted to leave me for Jeonghwa!” She could’ve said more, but the thought of the two of them together brought the acid in her stomach up her throat. Her voice has lifted, and Ingook looks around, shushing her soon after.

“Stop making a scene. I’m not your boyfriend anymore.” Someone as silent as him is clearly affected by the attention, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“For how long?”

“It wasn’t—”

“That bitch was always around us, there is no way you did not even cheat on me emotionally. How long?” Ingook closes his lips tight then, even managing to rest his hands on top of hers to take them in between his. She has no strength when around him knees buckling, heart falling in love and breaking at the same time. A poor boat that had collapsed and rested on the depths of the ocean, forgotten by the sailor that had wanted a ship instead, that is what she is right now.

Joining her hands in between his, Ingook whispers: “Two months.”

Sixty-one days.

He had not even grieved their relationship. He had just gotten straight into another one—with the one person that had always claimed that they were the best couple.

“Let go of me.” She struggles against his hold, Ingook standing up and surpassing her in height. The difference had always made her feel protected, but now it made her feel small in comparison—as if she was being mocked.

“Hey, no. I didn’t cheat on you physically. It just happened—” Pursing her lips together, she pries her hands away from his hold with all the strength she could muster, taking the lunchbox he had brought with him and tossing the rice at his chest. An outburst, perhaps not the best for her reputation, but it was what had boiled inside of her. Years of being betrayed by everyone she loved did that.

“You’re a fucking liar!” No longer levelled and remembering where she is, her entire body shakes on the weight of memories. Ones that she had not seen, but she could imagine. Ingook, who has always liked to hold the nape of her neck when kissing, would be doing the same to Jeonghwa. His laughter is now shared with her. The prominence of his hip-bones would press to her when throaty groans took his most sensual of sides away. He is no longer hers, and the worst part is that he had tried to mask it throughout the way. “My fault? This is entirely your fault.” The sticky rice gets stuck to that horrendous shirt, her finger rubbing against the fabric to punctuate her words. “You two made fun of me—”

Someone’s arms wrap around her waist, trying to pull her back with soft ministrations. “Hey, it’s enough. The boss is coming—”

Neither Ingook nor her are listening, at this point. “I just wasn’t in love with you anymore. Did you want me to say that?”

Something wants to snap inside of her. Cry. Scream. Throw something else at him. Ingook could not have fallen out like that. “…I can’t believe you, I really can’t.”

“It’s not my fault you still love me. Stop making a scene.”

“It’s not my fault you hurt me by cheating on me.”

“Emotionally cheating on you.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“You two, stop right now!”

The booming voice, albeit a bit old, belongs to no other than her boss. Her fists are tightly glued to her side when, from the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of the boss. The old man stares at Ingook, then at her, back again before pointing at his office.

“Let’s talk it out in the office instead of screaming your business out to everyone.”

If Jongin had yet to see her heartbroken, this is the time to do so.

Her hands are shaking by the time she is explaining everything to the boss. Her eyes can’t stop getting blurry, though not a single tear has dropped down her skin. Ingook is silent, as expected, playing with the edge of one of the folders on the boss’ desk as he lets her say exactly what had happened. Hidden relationship for almost three years, but keeping away the fact that Jeonghwa was his newest romance. The last. The one that had gotten him.

The boss is silent for a second, and she takes this time to count the wrinkles on his face or the few hairs that are left on his head in the color of white and gray. He is plusher than the last time she saw him, cheeks healthier, and his marriage seems to be going strong after forty years with the band that still wraps around his finger. His entire office is decorated in pictures of his family—his wife and his son, soon to take up after his steps. Pictures of their trips, his son’s graduation, his wife’s birthday…

That is someone who loves. Not whatever Ingook had paid her with after so much adoration.

“Thank you for, uh, for telling me the truth.” Their boss says, putting his hands together and interlocking his fingers. A frown is on his features, that can’t be a good sign. “But I can’t condone these types of activities happening in the office—”

“Please, boss, don’t fire us.” Ingook has finally spoken, leaning his weight forward and accidentally brushing his feet against her leg. She can’t help but pull away. “I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“You’re two of my best columnists. I can’t do such thing.” Lucky bastard, he gets to be in the office with his new girl and now she will be on first row watching it happen. “But, I need to teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, boss, please don’t.” She says, sharing a glance with Ingook who pays attention to her. “I’ve already gotten one hell of a lesson today.”

“Stop it, you two.” With a scolding, her boss finishes. “More of a reason for me to follow through with this plan…” His voice lowers, opening the folder that Ingook had been playing with, sighing along the way. “Ingook, you’re going to be working on the sports column. You,” Sending a pointed look at her behind his glasses, he turns his attention to his folder. “You’re going to the publicity column. I need you to sort out your differences and understand that you are coworkers here, not lovers, and you’re both important to this newspaper.”

“What?!” Now Ingook has heightened his voice, shaking his head while he speaks. “Boss, that can’t be. I know nothing about sports—”

“Kim Jongin will help you with that. Learn.” The boss continues, soon after writing something down on the folder. “I’ll be giving you new cubicles, as well, I don’t want you two near each other for more than necessary. If I see any changes in my columns, you two will be out of the job.”

The publicity column is a nightmare made words. Ingook had always been overexcited whenever he spoke about his job when they were together, but it was boring. The newspaper is paid to write the things that he puts into paper and online, the most he does is get free stuff here and there whenever he goes take pictures and interview the workers to make sure it is valid enough to end up in their newspaper.

“Boss, but I am very happy with my position.” She includes, extending her hand towards Ingook. “I agree with this thing right here.”

“I won’t change my mind.” He stands up then, hands extending on top of his desk to conclude his actions. “Tomorrow morning, I will have the security guard lead you to your new spots, and I will be asking for weekly updates.” Not only was she cheated on (emotionally, she can hear Ingook say inside her head), but now she has to write for the most boring column in the entire newspaper. “Out of my office, and don’t fight anymore.”

With a bow and a scoff, she leaves the office, eyes trained on her when she walks towards her cubicle, head thumping against the keyboard to finally let out the few tears that she had been saving.

A few that turn into a hundred.

###

Day seventy since Ingook broke up with her. Still heartbroken.

And the new cubicle is too cramped.

Another rub at her eyes, her elbow accidentally bumping against the corner of her desk, stars going up from her nerves to the rest of her arm, leaving her lips parted with a stuffy nose. Allergies could only make her day worse, knees tattered in bruises thanks to her clumsiness in her new spot. The computer screen blinks back at her, the noise of people working on their keyboards reminding her that there is, still, one more article for her to edit. Written by Ingook, just like the rest she had worked on while being part of the publicity column.

The worst part is that, even in his writing, he is unforgettable. Nice with words. A seller. The art of being a columnist in its natural form, just made to grasp someone in and make them want to go anywhere he recommends. Ingook has a talent, but he also is the only person recurring her thoughts as of currently.

Emotional cheating, though bad on its own, she had tried to excuse it. That’s the power of being delusional, she tells herself, and she is afraid of speaking her mind out to her friends in hopes of getting the same answer, but said out loud. Ingook may have liked someone else, but his lips had not traced Jeonghwa’s skin, his eyes had belonged to her while they were together…

Damn, she really is delusional.

Cutting the sneeze off to make the sound less prominent, she lifts her gaze once again, rubbing her hands with some hand sanitizer before continuing with her job. The typing continues, needing Jongin’s voice to fill the air with some talk about whatever he is watching on TV, or speaking about his own romantic life that is much wilder and less trapped. She gets neither of those things.

Instead, Ingook’s partner in crime appears before her, a burning cup of coffee resting beside her hand in the matter of seconds. Dani, with brown hair tied behind her back, a cute button nose and sporty clothes cladding her body. She must go to the gym, if the contraction of her muscles when she pushes the cup closer to her is anything to go by.

“I thought a cup of coffee would be nice.” One of the few people that was friends with Ingook that she had not talked to that much was Dani. Maybe, if she had surrounded herself with Dani instead of Jeonghwa, her world would be different. She may have been in the sports section, writing diligently, still very much in a relationship.

She takes it, but to keep the distance in between anything that shows weakness towards Ingook and herself, she speaks just before she takes a sip of her drink: “I didn’t ask for coffee.”

Dani blinks for a moment, chuckling to herself only after digesting her words. “Listen, I may not be Kim Jongin, but we need to make this work in between us, okay?” Her tone of voice is light, contrary to the persona she holds. Powerful, albeit a bit strong.

“Got it. Can I go back to editing?”

“You can’t keep editing Ingook’s work today. We actually have some establishments to visit.” Dani leans her weight against her desk, one leg crossed over the other when she takes a sip of her own coffee. Tea is better, if not iced and super sweet coffee, and she deeply misses the time she used to spend with Jongin in between articles. “Someone asked for our presence.”

“Oh yes, because the publicity team is the Team Rocket of our newspaper.” She comments, saltiness in her voice when she downs the rest of the coffee, not caring that it scalds her tongue or that her cheeks inflate the slightest to hold the liquid there before swallowing it in two cuts.

“…I never considered that, but we could totally be Team Rocket…” The sarcasm has not yet downed on Dani. Either way, she doesn’t feel like going out at all. The publicity team are barely even there in the mornings, more often than not running errands on the places that ask for their publicity. Newspapers may be dying, but with their website going and their Instagram presence, there is something to be done. One or two people over the age of seventy may buy the newspaper, too. “Much more now that we are going to the hair-salon.”

Hair-cutting and dyeing doesn’t sound like a great deal. She drags her chair away from the desk, sniffling her allergies away. “Do I really need to go?”

“Yes.” Dani cuts to the chase, taking a sip of her coffee. “The boss is asking me for updates on your efficiency, and this hair-salon visit would be your first performance as part of Team Rocket.”

Shit.

Did she have to open her big mouth and say Team Rocket?

But what else could go wrong in her life? She has lost her position in her precious eighth column to be left in column number three. She has lost her boyfriend. Her cubicle. Her time with Jongin. Her dreams are shattered. Her tongue is burning at the mere contact with her palate. All matters that make her grab her cardigan to pull it over her body.

“Let’s just go.” She comments, sneezing twice before looking up at Dani.

“Are you sure you are alright?”

The answer is that stepping on a million roses would hurt less than letting out a breath right now. She has nothing, when she had once thought she had everything again. This is her curse and like a warrior, she has to battle against it. With a nod from her, she answers Dani:

“I am well.” She answers. “But let’s keep out of each other’s business from now on.”

Thick air and serious eyes, she knows this is no way of living. Pushing people away in fear of them getting too close, burning words that could ever mean the slightest bit of charisma. The sweet Dani can’t say anything, just nod in hopes of finishing this sooner.

That’s just how life is. Trusting someone always leads to abandonment.

###

Long strands of hair, cascading down her back, he always liked those. Why is it that she remembers exactly what Ingook liked?

He’d grasp them in between his fingers from time to time. They’d thread through her hair, hand on her nape, when he kissed her with fervor, tongue connecting with hers, clashing with teeth, pants leaving his lips. He loved to play with the ends of them when he was holding her by the waist, paying attention to his friend’s words but still keeping her in check by tugging at the strands to tease her. Ingook had always liked this hairstyle, which is why upon the presence of a hair-salon, she can already feel a bit of dread.

The gates of hell are presented through glass doors. A lot of people bustle and live with happiness, talking loud enough to drown the music. It’s an open space, too, creamy walls with lights on them, leading to wide mirrors and white seats. Around ten workers try to make others feel beautiful, spending their money on confidence and speech. Some are washing hair. Some are cutting it. Some are chatting. And there’s an intense amount of happiness.

Liberating—more than in a club with some drinks, more than in dinner with friends. This place is liberating, enough to have Dani clasping her hands together upon greeting the man at the entrance door. Color Theory, the place is called, and it must sound too complex for it to be a hair-salon, much more when she looks towards the man at the main desk.

Orange strands of hair are sleeked back, yet curve at the forehead, to present a model-like stoic face. His brows, dark with the natural color of his hair, are perfectly crafted and sleek—straight, too. Plush and short lips, as well as a straight nose, this man clearly is a nice image for the establishment. Though, having ‘color’ in the title of the hair-salon when he is dressed in a black button down and trousers is a bit contradictory.

“Good morning,” Dani greets, softening the frown on the man’s features when he nods, standing up with a notebook in between his fingers to take notes of whatever she is about to say. Perhaps, to catch an appointment for her. “I called in advance. We belong to the publicity column of the local newspaper and we are doing a revision of the hair-salon before its appearance in our column next Monday.”

The embroidered name on the button down catches her attention. Oh Sehun. “I see,” Now, much less interested, he lets the notebook fall into place before looking around the establishment. “I’ll have you talk with one of our hairdressers.”

“You can’t help us out yourself?” The words leave her lips fast enough for her to regret them, and Sehun seems a bit displeased when he looks up and down her features, taking extra time on her eyes to send a glare before shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m busy, can’t you see?”

And he leaves it at that, excusing himself to go look for one of the workers at Color Theory.

Dani, finally on her tipping point, turns around and gets closer to her. Similar in height, she doesn’t have to move her neck much to stare straight into her eyes. “I know this is difficult for you, but I take my job very seriously. Please, try for me here.”

There may be a hundred things going on badly in her life right now, but Dani holds no blame on that. Upon inspecting the expensive looking spot once again, she decides that it could not be half as bad as she is imagining it. She may get a snack or two here and there while Dani actually tries the place out. “Sorry.” For the first time in a while, she finds it in her to apologize. “I will try for you.”

“Thank you.”

“So, what do I do?” She asks, placing her hands inside the pockets of her jeans for leverage. “Am I just your pretty companion of the day or do I get to do something newspaper-related?”

“Mhm, Ingook is normally more active with this kind of stuff but…” Dani must not notice what she is doing, and she really is trying her best here in not caring about the name that escapes her lips, but it hurts. The wound is fresh, it palpitates, shines in red and deep purple—a little bit of fuchsia, too. “You ask questions about the number of clients they get, what they offer…what their specialties are. Oh, don’t forget to ask what differentiates them from other companies. All of the like.”

“I can do that.” She answers, watching the tall receptionist come back with an extended hand to lead the way.

“Come with me, ladies.” Sehun instructs first, a movement to his hips while he walks to the farthest spot on the hair-salon, nearer to the people that are getting their hair shampooed. “Our most popular hairdresser is available right now. I am sure he can fill you in with the details of Color Theory.”

Dani, more in touch with this place, holds her hands in front of her chest. “Oh, isn’t your most popular hairdresser Mr. Byun Baekhyun?”

Sehun nods, prettily wrapping his lips in a smile. When his stoic expression is not present, he looks less like he’d eat her alive if she dared talk back to him. “Indeed.”

“I talked to him over the phone, oh my God!”

“Yes, he’s been taking care of this place in behalf of our boss, since she’s old and can barely hear from one ear.” Sehun says it so sincerely, opening the clear doors of the shampooing spot before clearing his throat. “Baekhyun, please shampoo their hairs and give them a trim while they ask you some questions. They’re from the local newspaper.”

She doesn’t know what she expected when she heard Byun Baekhyun’s name, but it wasn’t exactly what had been presented in front of her.

If the word allure could be personified, it’d be given to Baekhyun. Fresh, clean, a smile on his face that is dulcet, everything about him is fitted for this place, but there is no way in hell that a man like him does not have, at least, a variety of people hitting up on him on the daily.

Recently ironed is the black button down on top of his body, a bit oversized to encage his wide shoulders but growing loose in what seems to be a small waist. His name is also embroidered in his shirt, alike to Sehun. Somewhat thick thighs that give the benefit of mischief to his beam. A fresh undercut is what styles his black hair, a few strands ticking out of the gelled hair, slightly arched eyebrows presented from this. His eyes, however, windows to the soul, rake over her body to make her feel sticky, as if honey is conveyed in his soul.

“Welcome,” Baekhyun says, placing his hands on top of the black ceramic that would be, in a few seconds, filled with bubbles and shampoo. “I’m Baekhyun, the head hairdresser here. My boss is currently not doing so well health-wise, so I was the one to contact you.”

Someone like him must definitely have enough social media presence to not need any of this extra publicity bullshit, but she may be wrong. Dani takes a seat on the chair before Baekhyun could ask anything else, though he wraps a cloth around her shoulders to keep her clothes intact. “Yes, you talked to me. I’m Hwang Dani, the person in charge of the publicity column in the newspaper.”

Before her, it had been Ingook that had been in charge, equally as successful in his career as her. She utters her name when Baekhyun looks at her once again, lifting her hand in a small wave. “I’m new in the column, not in the business. I will be the one asking you some questions.”

When he twirls the sleeves of his button down up, honey skin is presented. Skilled, long fingers in delicacy pull Dani’s hair away from her ponytail, giving it back to her. “Huh, it’s okay. I can answer whatever.” He turns around to look at the rack of shampoos, all labelled by function and scent. “I was half expecting to be able to do your hair.”

The punctuation in his tone indicates he is talking about her, and she absentmindedly grabs at the edges of it. “Oh, no way.” Letting go of his old, long hairstyle would make her feel unlike herself. Perhaps, she has grown to like it—or she is afraid of not sporting something that Ingook likes. “It’s been a long while since I’ve done something to my hair. I don’t want to.”

“Bummer.” Baekhyun is professional, letting the water pool on Dani’s hair to wet it nicely. “Not to say you don’t look good with your hair like that, but I pride myself on my skills.”

With his body pressed to the sink, shampoo resting on his palm before he rubs them together and washes Dani’s hair, she can’t help but have her mind wondering on what kind of skills he is talking about. “What makes your skills different from everyone else, Mr. Byun?”

Quirking one of his eyebrows, he seems to have caught up on his little two-meaning game, biting down on his bottom lip as he works a few knots out of her hair. “Color Theory is just better, I guess.” Trying to be professional, or perhaps she had imagined the flirtation in his tone, Baekhyun’s slender fingertips spread the mango-scented shampoo on Dani’s hair. “We care about the client in ways that other salons don’t. Inclusivity is what we work with—in other salons, you’re paying for a set way of doing things, they don’t care about the way your hair reacts to the shampoos they use or the way they blow your hair. We take out client into consideration,” Then, he spares her a glance, pushing his lips together to stifle a smile. “Of course, like any other salon, we tend to gossip. Our difference is that we remember our clients.”

She scoffs at that, because this is not much different from a sports parlor or a game. No athlete remembers the people that talked to them. “I don’t believe that’s true.”

“If you’d let me do your hair, you’d be believing in other things.” Baekhyun replies, followed by another question from her.

“I imagine you get a lot of clients, then.”

Rinsing the first wash, Baekhyun’s fingers rub circles on Dani’s temples, making the woman close her eyes with a smile on her face. “You can see for yourself.” There is pride on his tone and one look at the salon is enough to confirm that there are a lot of clients, indeed, all joyfully talking to their respective hairdressers.

“What do you offer them?”

“Anything hair related.” Baekhyun shrugs, once again bringing her attention to his shoulders. For the first time in a while, she gives herself the benefit of looking at another man—Ingook had been the reason of attraction inside her head, but upon looking at the hairdresser…she starts to believe there are other good looking men in this world. “And some. I’m a good friend for my clients.”

“You’re knowledgeable in your job, Mr. Byun?”

“I know my stuff.” He conquers, taking some air conditioner in between his palms, rubbing it once again and putting it on the ends of Dani’s hair, delicacy at its finest. “You said your name was Dani, right?”

Taken away of her daydream as Baekhyun massages her scalp, the woman swallows thick saliva before nodding. “Yes.”

“Dani has very straight hair. It’s malnourished at the ends; I would love to give her a trim right now. Nothing crazy. We have to give it some kind of volume at the top because straight hair tends to look flat.” The knowledge is given to her, leaving her dizzied. She knows about kicks and dust, not about prettiness and hairstyles. “Also, I used mango because I feel like it would be better for her hair color. She dyed it auburn a while ago, I can see it in the ends. We need to get rid of that.”

The timbre of his voice is there, and Dani seems excited about a makeover, but she is left with little to no questions. He sounds legit. This place seems as though it is the castle for whoever wanted to be a royal for a day, going home to the scent of them and them only. In this place, confidence is built—in a way that she can’t understand, but deeply admires.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something to your hair?” Baekhyun asks, patting Dani’s hair dry with a towel, careful not to pull at the strands, his eyes trained on her. Still standing, the man maneuvers the towel around her head, keeping it in place as he takes off the cloth that covered her clothes.

“Not today.”

“Huh, so some other day?”

“We’d have to see.”

He clicks his tongue, something deep in his chest rumbling like a chuckle, before he lets go of the subject. Dani has sat up by now, and with the excellent wit of a hairdresser, he speaks up. “What are we feeling, Dani? Bleach for heartbreak? Brown for a simple look? Do we want to go all out or keep it simple?”

“Would my hair look good when bleached?” Dani asks, clearly putting her trust in someone like Baekhyun. Her senses say that a smirk like that is not to be trusted, but who is she to know? She had trusted the most silent, secretive, shy of men and ended up getting cheated on.

Not emotionally. There is no way he just cheated emotionally and got a girl a day after their break-up.

“Sure! I wouldn’t go for pure blonde. I’d go for a platinum instead. I think we could create some waves, too.”

“You get me!” Dani says, Baekhyun’s hands resting on her shoulders when he moves away from the shampooing room, her footsteps trailing right behind them.

With one look over his shoulder and an air of confidence, he completes: “I’m just good at reading people, Dani.”

She wonders, then, if he had read her too, enough to consider that she needed a break from the persona that had been inherently in love with only one man. That continues to do so, even when she has an Adonis in front of her.

###  

Dulcet orange in a can, artificial yet satisfyingly fresh, enough to keep the heat away from her body during the lunchbreak. That is what she craves for, given to her by a vending machine, scolded by her kidney if she keeps this habit up.

Tiresome, the past month has been, and with every moment that she spends with the charismatic and chirpy Dani, the more she misses Jongin. Something about him resembles this odd day, sun shining and made to cast down on his skin. The words bubble inside of her most of the time—how much she hates having to edit everything she writes over and over again to fit the standards of the people who want publicity, and how whenever she is working, she remembers Ingook. None of those concerns leave her, they choke and choke until she is left with a short breath, the one that is keeping her sane.

Today, orange is the color she has seen the most. The sky has been shining in ode to the sun, leaving heat on its way contrary to the rain that had overtaken the city. Ridden of energy from the heat, she is left to go to the vending machine, feet dragging across the sidewalk, old sneakers asking to be changed for something more professional. Maybe, it is time for her to learn how to get rid of old memories.

There is not a lot of people in the streets, most of them are in restaurants or in their workplaces, so that leaves her to feel accomplished when there is no one in line for the vending machine. Three blocks away from the office, yes, but worth it with that orange soda that has been calling her name since a week ago. She has had it too much, sure, but she can regret it later. For now, she needs something strong to wash any thoughts away.

It is difficult, she realizes, to feel out of place. The worst feeling in the world, if she is being practical. Starting over again in a life that had been planned will never be easy. Sometimes, she lays on her bed and stares at the ceiling with fear of what may come next. Perhaps, the next person she trusts will stab her in the back. Or she will never trust again, cursing the name of friendship and love alike.

The vending machine is pink. The glass is a bit tainted from fingertips of children, too low to be someone else’s, and she slips a few coins there to earn her well-deserved treat. Maybe, she could buy one for Jongin and try to spend time with him during the lunchbreak. Though, the orange can moves the slightest, tries to slip away from its confines before it stops entirely.

Fuck my life, are the first words that cross her head.

Her hands wrap around the vending machine, wider than her when she shakes it to get the can out. Nothing. A few kicks to it and it still doesn’t budge. It is at this point that she starts to believe that she is truly cursed. A witch or something of the like must have made a voodoo doll and someone is playing games with her, leaving her heated, angry and at the verge of crying.

Because it feels lonely, over everything, more than it feels like she is powerless. Impotence engulfs her in this limbo of her life in which she can neither move forward nor step back. The trigger is there, in the form of a vending machine that is not working at her favor, and suddenly her world is crumbling down once again, making her feel ridiculous in the way she has lived her life.

Out of the volleyball team.

Shaken away from the opportunity of majoring in anything sport-related.

Once working in the newspaper in her own column, she fell in love with someone and he cheated.

And now she doesn’t even work in what she likes anymore.

Her hair cages her face away from the crowd to be looking at her, forehead pressed to the arm that has extended over the vending machine, so she doesn’t notice that someone has neared her. Pristine and elegant shoes are the only thing she sees for a second before she hears her name being called, in between an amused chuckle and with a foreign tone. Not too deep, not too sensual, but with that flirty air that she had not experienced in a while.

“Who the hell—?” Before she could snap at the unwanted visitor, she lifts her gaze and pushes her body away from the vending machine. The person in front of her, holding a plastic bag by the crook of his elbow, is romanticism in its modern form. His undercut is fresh, still, black hair styled as per usual. This time around, the glimmer of the sun surprises her with a piercing on his right ear. His uniform is still the same, broad shoulders under a black button down with his name. The world gets to be introduced to him even without asking. “Mr. Byun.”

“The one and only.” Baekhyun answers, lifting the arm with the bag up to take a sip from his coffee. “Is there a reason why you’re crying against a vending machine?”

Not a single tear she had dropped, but she was very close to it. Good at reading people, he once said he was. “I was not crying.”

“Sorry. Strong woman who doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit, I forgot that was your brand.” Baekhyun trails his gaze over her features, surprise and annoyance taking up on her face.

With an amused chuckle, she crosses her arms over her chest. “I am a strong woman who doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit, that’s true.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Baekhyun conquers, slipping a few coins inside the vending machine and selecting the number for the orange soda. “But even the strongest of people need some help every once in a while.”

If she was a child, she would be surprised by the way two cans of soda fell out of the vending machine. Baekhyun picks both up in between his slender fingers, made for washing hair and styling it perfectly, before giving them to her. Both cans. “Thank you.” She answers, because it has been a while since someone has tried to help her—or at least, has asked for the reason behind her turmoil. “I’m sorry I was of inconvenience.”

“You weren’t, and you never will.” Baekhyun, once again, takes a sip of his coffee before leaning against the vending machine. Toned legs and a nice neck are highlighted thanks to the position. “Were you about to have lunch?”

“I was.” She says, looking down at her phone before putting it back in her pocket. “I should try to find a restaurant that is not packed and buy something. I haven’t been preparing my meals for a while—”

Baekhyun shakes the plastic bag in between his fingers then, the name of the restaurant imprinted on the white bag. “I have some extra food here. I promised Sehun food, but I can go back and buy him something. I’m my own boss for now, after all.”

Shaking her head, she can’t fathom the idea of being given food just to avoid standing in line. “No, no, take that food to Mr. Oh.”

“We’re not old men, you know?” Baekhyun asks, an eye-roll to his statement. “Baekhyun. Sehun. You can call us those, it’ll be fine.”

“Well, Baekhyun, I still can’t accept.”

When she tries to move past him, however, the plea of her name in his voice has her stopping on her tracks. “Come on. Let me just have lunch with you! Please?”

She turns around then, watching as he points to one of the benches nearby. “Why would you want to have lunch with me?”

Confidence and adulthood seep from him then, a shrug of his shoulders that matches the waltz of his step. “You’re pretty,” He says. “Can’t blame me for wanting to know if you’re equally as pretty on the inside.”

She finds herself nearing him, step after step to oblivion. “Good luck with that. I doubt it.”

Placing the bag down on his lap after taking a seat on the bench, she realizes then that she has bitten on his trap, right then and there. “Those who fear being complicated are never complicated to start with.”

Those words dizzy her. They make her heart ache, her soul beg for an answer, simply because she has always considered herself to be too complicated. Complex enough to never get a happy ending. “Are you calling me easy?” Trying to push the subject away from her, she takes the seat beside him just to watch Baekhyun open the white container for her, filled with some fries and a hamburger. Golden and tasty-looking.

“I could read you if I wanted to, honey.” Baekhyun breathes out, gold bathing his skin when he looks up at the sky, away from her, teasing her. “But you’re lucky I like mysteries.”

“I can read you, too.” She says, opening the hamburger to place the fries inside, pushing the contents back together to take her first bite. Swirls of sauces and vegetables meet in a pleasant taste. “Overconfident hairdresser that thinks he knows everyone just because he knows a lot of people.”

He chuckles at that, breathy and nice, like he is actually having the time of his life by just a simplistic conversation. His fingers open the can for her, and she takes the first sip of the orange glory. “Try something else,” He indicates. “Overconfident hairdresser that likes a challenge and talks to a taken woman, if the promise ring on your finger is anything to go by.”

Truth is, she is unable to take it off. The rose gold band reads his initials on the inside, and the day of their beginning. It fits her so perfectly that sometimes, on the dead of the night, she imagines that it was only made to be worn by her. It’s not. Romance is nothing but a speckle of capitalism—this ring would fit anyone with the same finger-size as her, and it glimmers under the light the same way it does for everyone else. The memories are crafted by her mind, like a peek of stupidity and even when someone as handsome as Baekhyun would be enough of an excuse for her to take it off, she doesn’t.

“I’m not taken.” She says, taking a bite of the hamburger and coming back with a fry dangling from her lips. Slicing it with her teeth, she continues. “I just haven’t been able to take it off.”

Baekhyun’s eyes stare at her profile, they feel like they are burning her or judging her, but instead he says something unlike anything she had expected. It’s a question, not a retort. “What happened to him?”

“None of your business.” She answers, feeling pathetic above all and all because she doesn’t have an excuse. He fell in love with someone else, and she still loves him enough to think he will come back. “Figure it out. Aren’t you an intelligent guy?”

A whistle later, Baekhyun nods. “You’re pissed off about me asking, so it must be something that hurt you.”

“Don’t all break-ups hurt?”

“Mine don’t.” He concludes. “Love is different for everyone. For some, it’s not even love.”

“Well, it was love for me.” She includes, trying not to be too pointy or not have a fighting mechanism destroying everything for her. Her words are not measured, they come out in roughness, and it’s a surprise that Baekhyun is not annoyed yet.

Instead, he looks and looks. She would be naked if his eyes could pierce through clothes. Continuing with her meal, twenty minutes left of her break, Baekhyun comes up with an answer.

“You got cheated on.”

And that’s enough to know that Baekhyun is just too overconfident, but for a reason.

She cackles, comes directly from the depths of her pain, and Baekhyun has a smile on his face even from his accusations. “I must have the face of a woman who got cheated on, or is the type to get cheated on.”

“Not at all. If someone dares cheat on that face, they are up to no good.” Baekhyun has crossed one leg over the other, searching for another sip of his coffee even when he has run out of it. His lips smack together when eating, licking some sauce from the corner of his lip. “But you were pissed off and you said ‘well, it was love for me’ or something like that. It means that you feel as though it wasn’t love for him.”

“…And you get all this talent of reading people just from being a hairdresser?”

“I know the story of almost every marriage in this goddamned city.” Baekhyun answers, leaving her with a chuckle as she imagines the man, doing magic with his fingers by threading them through the client’s hair, feeling as though Baekhyun is the closest thing to a confidante. “Tell you something, it doesn’t end up good for most people. You’re not alone.”

But she is. She knows she is. Not in the sense that this has not happened to anyone, but in the sense that she is so unaccompanied that she remembers it all. It is pathetic, above all, because she knows everyone will tell her to get over it—and she needs to. Maybe, she should push herself to do so.

“I know,” With a kick of her leg forward, she finishes the small hamburger before taking a small sip of the can of orange soda. “What do you do so break-ups don’t hurt for you?”

Shrugging, as always, as if life doesn’t interest him or he thinks he is above it all, Baekhyun responds. “You just don’t make it serious. It doesn’t hurt if it’s not serious enough to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I can’t do that.”

“You’re a serious type of woman?” Baekhyun is playing around, a quirk of his eyebrow when he nudges her side with his.

A smile appears then. “You could say. If I love someone, I’d rather for them to be with me.”

“That’s expected.”

“Stop trying to make yourself sound like such a mentalist.” Perhaps a bit tired of his intricate way of thinking, she stands up, gifting the other can of soda to him. “That’s yours,” She indicates. “And thank you for lunch. I have to head back if I want to get to my office on time.”

“Mhm, I got to have lunch with someone interesting.” The tone of his voice drops while he stands up, picking up after the mess they made. “I shouldn’t be thanked for that.”

Not knowing what to say, a mere nod is what she can muster, kicking fake dust from the floor before raising a hand in the air to wave at him. “I’ll see you…some other time, then.”

“Wait!” Slipping a card in between her fingers, her eyes train on the shiny introduction card with Baekhyun’s name. Definitely something that he wouldn’t give someone for a first impression or a date, but to a client instead. It includes his number, his e-mail, his social media and some nice font to match. “Just tell me when and we’ll meet. I can do your hair and talk. Or we could do something else, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I won’t do my hair.”

“Don’t deny it until you try it.”

“I’ll call you up someday.” She concludes, finally turning around with a thumping heart and guilt dragging her down. Without reason, she is a single woman, and the contrast of Baekhyun’s introduction card against her promise ring is weird. One means forever, the other means for once. Maybe, she really needs to try new things.

And get rid of that fucking ring.

###  

The quickest and easiest way to get rid of a headache, for her, is a cup of tea. Dulcet, calming, something about even making tea has always felt liberating. Upon arriving to her workplace, not a soul in place but Ingook, her concentration is fully of the thumping of her head, the rubbing she does on her temples at the glance of him brewing himself a cup of coffee. Today, he is sporting a pair of glasses. The ones she had given him.

But she doesn’t live in quick or easy ways. She endures the headaches because, as an athlete, she has been taught that pain leads to fulfillment. Toxic, it is in every way, and she tries to get rid of that thought as she nears the small table with the kettle and coffee machine, sniffing the scent of his coconut shampoo.

For a moment, Ingook feels like the man she had fallen in love with—whose jaw parted to give her the briefest of greetings before sneaking a kiss away into the empty office. Today, however, is the day in which she finally realizes that he is no longer hers. He never was. People are not physical matters; they are not things that belong to others. Those glasses are his. The decisions made were his and his life is, well, his.

But when she places a teabag inside a boiling cup of water, her eyes inspect the architecture of him. Even when she thinks she is in the road of moving on, the dulcet feeling of wanting him just trances her and dizzies her both at the same time. Ingook is homely. He is all she has known for the past few years.

How to watch golden sunsets, when his eyes have already been touched at that hour and nothing could compare to the cinnamon speckles in them?

How to kiss other lips, when his had molded against hers like they were made for her?

How to open her heart to another person—a friend, a man, a woman, a neighbor or a therapist, when he was the last one that listened…and yet, he had not remembered to not break her heart along the way?

Her fingers hold the cup, the rose-gold ring that had seemed part of her skin long gone, when she inspects his side. Underneath his gray jacket and his black button down, there are glimpses of purple and blue. Scattered across his neck, perhaps nearer to his collarbone, not properly covered at all. Ingook had never liked for her to leave marks, but with Jeonghwa’s lips, tongue and teeth grazing his skin, he did not seem to mind.

It was Jeonghwa, after all.

“You seem to be having fun.” Calling out for him, Ingook stops pouring his teaspoons inside his mug of coffee (three, he has always liked sweetness). He pauses, shaking eyes lifting themselves until they glance at the wall, the ceiling, finally her eyes.

She wants to smile, but she doesn’t. “What do you mean?” He answers, poised tone always present. She doesn’t know if she likes it still.

Her fingers are vividly brave when she tugs at the collar of his neck, barely even making much movement to watch the hickeys on it. “You’ve become a sex god in the blink of an eye,” Her voice is tiny, her eyes inspecting his features when a blush rises, taking a look at himself on a spoon. If she is pathetic, he is much more in this situation. “…Why Jeonghwa?”

Ingook drops the spoon there, gorgeous eyes and a frown on his face that she was only familiar with on the last few days of their relationship. “Stop it. I’m not having this conversation.”

Moving her hair away from her shoulders, the length he has always liked going unnoticed by him, she retorts again. “I just don’t get it.” She starts. “You could’ve gone for a million people, but you went for the one person that always supported us.” This time around, her voice is calculated, aware that anyone could pop by at this point—she is just early, just like Ingook, but they are still at the job. “Why her?”

“Why not her?” Ingook answers, his lips quirking up when she reaches for her purse, pulling her makeup bag away from it. Not that she uses it much, but she thinks she has some old foundation there. “You don’t get the right to question my current relationship—”

“But I can question our previous relationship.”

“It’s over.”

This stops her, because she is mere centimeters away from him, his voice has dropped to a lullaby, his height making her feel small. She is not small, neither is she weak—life had given her a thousand punches and they will all heal. His Adam’s apple bobs, then, and she wonders what she has seen in him past the beauty and comfort of him. Love has to be more than that. “…I fucking know, Ingook.” She tells him, running the brush across his skin to cover his hickey. “And I should let people see the cheater that you are. You’d probably get off to people seeing the marks Jeonghwa left on you—”

“Stop talking about her like that.”

“Like the bitch that she is?” Watching the color fade, though not perfectly, into his skin is not relaxing. It feels as though she is erasing the truth.

Ingook sighs, the breath fanning on her face like the wind of a spring day. “You need to think differently.” Ingook adds, the movement under her skin indicator of the contraction of his neck. Tension. “All this hate you keep stored inside of you will only do you wrong.”

Shrugging her shoulders, she downs those words like a glass of tequila. All this hate, no one dares to ask why she is so bitter at life. Why, oh why, she is magnetified to betrayal. It always comes back to her, reminding her that there is no one that is necessary in this world. Not the ants that lift leaves. Not the leaves that hang from trees. Not the trees that make paper, only to be ripped. “I guess,” She says, patting the skin with the brush one last time before fixing his collar. “But thank you for putting another penny inside the hate-bank. Appreciate it.”

Ingook stares back at her, he blinks—one, two, three times. Every breath reminds her that she loved this man with the mightiness of a warrior and the soul of a starving woman. She loved like it was her last day of leaving and she had yet to give a kiss. She loved as if it was her first time, only to be forgotten. “Can we talk about this some other time?”

“I don’t know. Can we?”

“I just don’t know how to go around this subject.” He rubs the back of his neck, nervousness seeping from him. Her brush glides across her palm, leaving imprints of the foundation before she puts it back in place.

“Then, we don’t need to talk.”

Only she would feel this hard, like hell is ripping at every sin she has committed to steal another sigh from her lips, like every touch of Ingook burns in her skin and penetrates in her glands and cells. Her fingers tighten, working harder into finishing this week’s column, only thinking about the hair salon they had promoted weeks back. The hair that cascades down her back feels heavy, it reminds her of how many times she had fallen asleep with his fingers patting her hair. It reminded him that she had burned herself by feeling too strongly.

The day goes by a little bit longer, taking its precious time in wanting to make her cry, covering her tears when she gets out of the job earlier thanks to her hard work. The wind sweeps at her hair, the cars passing by carelessly as another woman in this world gets her heart broken. The burn of the fabric of her shirt rubbing against her eyes as she makes her way to this hair salon, by foot, aching through her heart and head, she feels it all.

Her head tells her: it’s time to get over it.

And her heart has finally said: I think you’re right.

It’s enough.

Because she has lied. Oh, she has lied through her entire life. She is not doing well; much less is she getting over this. Change is needed, the type that rocks her world, that comes with stomp of her feet and rubbed-off makeup, pushing the gates of the heaven that is Color Theory. Her blood is boiling, perhaps enough to match the red in Sehun’s hair when she nears him, hand extended on top of the main desk to battle this fight that has started from the moment she got betrayed.

Back in high school. Back in university. Back with Ingook and her boss, who has some stupid fucker in the sports column when she is the best in her position.

“I want to cut my hair. Dye it, too. I don’t care.” Maybe, she is too straightforward for the sassy-looking man. Sehun quirks one of his defined eyebrows, putting down the magazine he held up to his face before pushing his lips together.

“Oh yes, do that.” Putting the magazine down, he grabs his pen to look through the notebook he holds in his desk. “You need it.”

At this point, not a million burning words from Sehun could make her feel worse than the past few months. She doesn’t enjoy feeling stepped on, but the thrill of being there—of following after Baekhyun’s words—that one makes her feel powerful. “Is Baekhyun there?”

“Mhm, I like how my name sounds in that voice.” Someone stands up from one of the sofas in the establishment, dark hair still matched with an undercut, a nice movement to his legs when he leans against the wall that separates the main area from the entrance. The ever-flirty and confident Baekhyun is smiling, a little bit of sleep existing in his eyelids, hooded in a sinful way. “I should be having my break right now, but how can I say no when I have Rapunzel right in front of me?”

She chuckles at his words, watches him as he nears her and takes the strands of her hair behind his fingertips to inspect it. “Get rid of it. I don’t want to have long hair anymore.” Because he liked it. He touched it. She wants to be able to forget the part of her that wanted to please him.

“Rapunzel is lame anyways.” Baekhyun wraps one arm around her shoulder, the taut and slightly trained muscles caging her in a hold that feels comforting. For one moment, she gets addicted to this feeling. Defeating. “I’ve never liked princesses. Too…elegant for my liking.”

Upon reaching the shampooing room, curiousness comes to her. Dani had been over the moon after Baekhyun styled her hair, and the bleach did her well. Whatever he used had been a blessing. “You sure know what you want.”

“The world is like that.” Strangely enough, there is not a lot of people in the shampooing room. Most of them are getting their hairs dried and styled at this point. Pushing a button on his phone, Baekhyun hums and swings his hips to some R&B song. Relaxed and mocking the world, someone like Baekhyun seems to not have a single issue in this world. “People are wolves. You have to know what you want in life, and who you want there, and there will be no one that can stop you after that.”

“Words from a hairdresser?”

The water cools her head. For one moment, she can think rationally, her shoulder blades in an awkward position, but with someone taking care of her. Even when she probably will have to pay him a lot after this. It’s cold but refreshing, not distracting enough to fight the noise of Baekhyun’s music, along with his voice. “Words from just someone.” Baekhyun says. “Let me prove if my guesses are right. Do you know what you want?”

Time stops for a moment and she really has to think of her answers. Stop. Go back. Months ago, all she had wanted was her small space in her column, to watch the game with her boyfriend and to have a future with him. She had always jailed herself with what she could have, not what she wanted. What does she want?

Want in the sense of desire. In the form of going crazy once, just for the sake of getting what she wants.

Not what anyone else wants.

What she wants right now is to forget.

“I used to think I wanted something else.” She replies.

With an amused tone of his voice and a smile when she opens her eyes, she watches his back retreating to look for shampoo and conditioner. “Ooh, that’s a strong answer, but still not the one that I asked. What do you want?”

“To go back to my column.”

“Wait, what?” His tone fleets from its usual deep vibrato to something of the like of a falsetto. “You are not part of the publicity column?”

“No. I’m a sports column gal, but I got transferred to my ex’s column because of some…issues.”

Slender fingertips work at the knots of pressure on her temples, dragging down to her nape and making her part her lips. Every bit of exhaust dissipates into the thin air, and it’s at moments like these that she trusts words from magazines. Some massages are, indeed, better than sex. “Sports?” A hum comes from her, swallowing thickly to stop the signs of drooling just at the nice sensation. “Ew.” Opened eyes, she tries to send a glare to Baekhyun, but he tuts his tongue. “Keep your eyes closed, darlin’. I still have to try this new shampoo mix I did out.”

Did sounds like him, and for him to be making this type of shampoo is unexpected. Foamy, dense, nice scented, but it could be ratchet in its treatment to her hair, for all she knew. “What do you mean ‘ew’?”

“There are things that I like that include getting sweaty, mind you.” Baekhyun starts with that bite in his tone that characterizes him, far too flirty for his own good. “But sports? Athletes have this thing of screaming at each other all the fucking time, and listen, they’re the littlest bitches—”

“I’m an athlete. Well, was.” Expecting him to retreat like a scared puppy, for it is clear that he likes running his mouth, the water that pours down on her head prove her wrong when the sound of his voice matches the song of the liquid.

“Look me in the eye. Wait, don’t look me in the eye, you could get shampoo in there but—” Trying to stifle her laughter, her smile plasters itself on her face—permanent, it has been a while since it felt like it could stay there. “Look me in the eye, metaphorically speaking, and tell me you haven’t feigned being in pain just so the other team loses.”

That’s typical of soccer, but that does not mean her youthful self had not fallen to her knees just to think of the next strategy. “Guilty as charged, reader-guy.”

“Or, they do this thing where they can’t hide their anger. Catch an athlete losing and you’ll get the best view of your life.”

She is one of those examples. When her toes are curling, fists tingling and her mouth can only be perched by a frown. The thirst to try harder had come for her at the time, but it was all for nothing. A columnist, above all. “You seem to know a lot about athletes. Does Miguel Cabrera dye his hair with you?”

“Mi—who?” Baekhyun asks, the tapping of a lid coming after this statement. “I don’t even know who that is, but no. I just used to sit at the bleachers when I had P.E class in high school.”

Black hair up to the style of the era, probably in the shape of a bowl with the typical disheveled school uniform, Baekhyun mustn’t have been too far away from said image. “That’s where you learned?”

“I’d do other people’s hair while being there, yes.”

“You started early.”

“Indeed,” With one swirl of a coconut scented shampoo, memories come back to her—and bitter, it feels like. He, whom shall not be named, used a similar scent, but the sound of Baekhyun’s voice is enough to remind her that she is not there with him. “None of those athletes were half as pretty as you.”

A scoff leaves her lips then, peaking one eye open when water hits her hair again. “Thank you for generalizing the athlete population just to make me feel special, Mr. Byun.”

“Baekhyun,” He corrects, the pat of some product on the edges of her hair tingling up to the root. “And my pleasure, darling. I’m here to make you feel special.”

“I am not sure about how I feel with the whole ‘flirty guy’ vibe we have going on right now. Not my style, maybe?” With a hint of amusement in her tone, she hopes her sarcasm comes through when Baekhyun rinses her hair one last time, hands fiddling with a towel.

“I supposed it,” Baekhyun conquers, the corners of his lips tilted up when he speaks. “But that’s just because you’re comparing me to that ex of yours.”

Rose-petal words and sweetened lips that caress her skin even from the distance are not matters that she would compare to Ingook. “You think?”

“I know so,” Baekhyun replies, making her stand up as his hands rest on her shoulders, bringing her out of the washing room to a small group of people, other workers doing their best with their own clients. Over the noise of the hair dryer, his dulcet tone continues dancing with her ear drums. Tango, maybe, sensual enough to wrap up on the idea of him as a lover. “That’s to be expected, though. When you smell so much shit, you can’t help but notice when there is a flower in between it all.”

Cackles leave her lips upon seated on the comfortable white leather chair. Saring at herself in the mirror, Baekhyun’s fingers work through her hair to brush it. Gentle swipes, starint from the ends, moving towards the middle only when every single knot is gone. “What a metaphor.”

“I was part of the drama club for like a month. Thank you very much.”

“Got kicked out?”

“Dated the lead of our play and then, got dumped.”

“You got dumped?”

Looking up from the strands of her hair, Baekhyun’s melted chocolate eyes glimmer under the harsh lights of the mirror, quirking one of his eyebrows up. “Precisely.” The vastness of his answer settles on an empty stomach. Not enough. “But I learned two things from Shakespeare. To be or not to be an asshole—” Baekhyun lifts his hand romantically in the air, pretending to hold what may be a skull in there before pursing his lips. “To be. But you’ll get kicked in the nuts in the middle of the play.”

“Ouch.”

“That was the death of my career as an actor.” The sincerity in his tone must be the reason why he gets so many clients. “Gong Yoo would have totally been crushed under the weight of my talents.” And then, that sincerity is gone and changed for the lightweight sense of his life. A feather in the wind, Baekhyun falls and rises, passes by with a tickle to reminisce and shiver to.

“Would you have been an actor if you could?”

With a smile on his face, Baekhyun moves towards the vanity, scratching the side of his face while gentle fingertips look through his instruments. Her eyes trail up and down his body, tight pants doing wonders to his legs, shoulders that go unnoticed under that button down. If she saw him casually, what would he wear? Is he preppy, sporty, the devil wearing elegant clothing?

“And miss meeting you? Not in a thousand years.” He knows his way through his words, playing with her heart like a guitar. Plucking string after string, going for an alternative rock. Dangerous, though a bit fun.

“Baekhyun, stop it. Just tell me.”

“I would not,” He goes back to his spot behind her, his foot almost touching her calf when he lifts the chair the slightest. “There’s something about making people feel better, you know? People come here and they’re…looking for change. I give them that. Some people really need it, too.” The burn of his word scalds her, even when it most likely won’t be about her. “What are we looking for in your little change?”

Heaven is given to her when his fingers rake through her hair, brushed through every portion of it, treating it with knowledge beyond her understanding. “Cut it up. I want to donate it.” She starts. “Besides, I want to get back into volleyball…and shorter hair is better for athletes.”

“Up until here?” His hands frame just below her ears. A shaky breath leaves her then. It had been that short once, back when she was in high school, and she thinks she had not cut it since then—

“I like it.”

Changes are made when Baekhyun lets the first portion of hair glide across the blade of the scissor before falling pathetically. Like the promises Ingook made. Like the cheating that happened. For the first time in years, she is doing something for herself. Be damned the memories the two shared, for welcoming new ones is her utopia. The favorable blank space that she gets to paint with new memories.

Because she will go back to that column, and she will do it as a new person.

###

The world hates her.

Or not. Maybe, just her Boss hates her.

That, or the red and yellow self-help book that he keeps on his desk is doing wonders to make him believe that forgiving opens the path towards happiness. Her path now, with dragged steps of her sneakers and her recently cut hair caressing her dangling earrings, is directly towards Jongin’s cubicle. She wishes, really, her friend would be the person she has to help—but, like said before, her mind is certain that her boss hates her, because Ingook just had to ruin the latest article about The Champions League.

Rounding around Jongin’s desk, her eyes settle on the man before her. Back hunched, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose even when his face is too close to the screen, a few blemishes making home out of his chin. Ingook always gets those when he is stressed, and she hates herself for remembering. In the holiday season, to be exact, when his birthday approaches just at the same time that the New Year’s celebration does and he has to welcome his family into his household.

Her hand hovers over his back, patting just the slightest to fix his posture when a roughened throaty sentence calls out for him. “Straighten your back.” A command that he follows soon enough, looking over his shoulder that she dares drag with her hand before taking the empty seat beside his own. “How the fuck do you not understand the Champions League, Ingook?”

His face softens, nostrils letting out one of those sighs that are barely audible. Peace engulfs him then, leaning back on his seat when he extends his hands to click on the document he had been working on. “Everything.”

With a push of his chair, their shoulders come in contact, her eyes inspecting the screen with reading skills that she is proud of. Enough articles have passed by her, edits done at the last minute, to be able to finish an article in no time. “You should’ve stayed with me watching soccer games when we were together instead of complaining.” The mumble that leaves her lips is drowned by the tapping of her fingers against the keyboard. His eyes burn through her face, though she doesn’t know what kind of expression he holds—he’s looking. “First, you can’t write Madrid. That’s the geographical spot in Spain. The team has to be Real Madrid.”

“I see—”

“Why are you mentioning David Beckham?” She asks, looking over her shoulder to see that Ingook is too close, mouth agape and widened, innocent eyes while he tries to speak to her.

“I—I wanted to make a comparison…”

“Stupid.” She comments, deleting the man’s name altogether. “David Beckham is retired, and while he still shows support for fellow soccer players, you’re taking away the attention from article. People want someone to explain to them the intricacies they must have missed from the game.” This knowledge comes to her easily, for all she has done since her departure from athletics is bask in articles and magazines, turn her eyes square from watching too many games. “But do check his social media and see if he says anything. Ronaldinho’s, too. If they say anything interesting, put it in another article and post it to our social media. Do not print it out, of course.”

A few more clicking and editing around is not enough to depart his gaze from her profile. Sweat pools at her lower back, her bottom lip caught in between menacing teeth as she tries to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Though, the world hates her, she has already stated this before. “I’m sorry.”

“No, really. You don’t know shit about sports, it’s okay—”

“Not about that.”

The tips of her fingers freeze when she feels a hand resting atop her wrist, tugging at it softly to get her attention. That is the way Ingook would get her to look at him when they were arguing, a soft caress that reminded her that he would never hurt her. But he did.

He did, and she was doing so well in getting over him. That is until she looked at his eyes and they held the sincerity that she had looked for in him.

Breaths mingle then. Ingook, too close, too beautiful, too sharp at his edges and yet, repugnant in a way. His coconut scented shampoo feels old. His voice? Monotone. His apology? Unnecessary. “Shut up. We’re in the off—”

“I’m so sorry for cheating on you, but I mean it when I say I really…was not with Jeonghwa when we were together.” She has to turn back then, tugging at her own wrist to keep it away from his prickling hold as she continues with the job the Boss had asked for. “Hey, listen to me.”

“You’re in a relationship with her, Ingook—”

“But I can’t live well knowing I’ve hurt you.”

The strain in his voice chains her down to the chair. It stops all ministrations, breathing ragged, mind cascading with the uneasiness of hearing those words. An apology had crossed her head, she wished to get it sometimes, but now that she has it…she can’t accept it. “But you did.” She mumbles.

“I’m sorry, I said.” Ingook plays with a strand of her hair, pushing it away and behind her ear. Suddenly, the strands feel longer than they really are.

“Stop it.”

“I loved you a lot, I mean it. I don’t want us to have bad blood in between us.”

“How would you feel, Ingook?” She asks, pushing a few words into the document before standing up from the seat. Her hair is ruffled by her hands, narrowed eyes glaring arrows at him. “If I kept thinking of Jongin or someone else as we were together. If I dated him or anyone just a day or a week after I broke up with you? How would you feel?”

“I would have understood.”

A scoff follows soon after. “You wouldn’t have, I know you.” She replies, putting the seat back in place before staring down at his parted lips, gleaming eyes in the form of an apology. “But I’m not you, and that’s what makes us different. I loved you, with the entirety of me. I wanted to be the person you would love the most in this world, but I don’t anymore. And I want to forgive you, because I know you wouldn’t have done so if it was me.”

She wants to say that she didn’t cry at the memory of heartbreak, and for the first time in a few months, she doesn’t.

Chirping birds on a sunset-filled afternoon come after work hours, a dance in her steps while she goes directly to where she shouldn’t. In happiness, perhaps, beaming with a smile that makes her feel free. Her hair no longer weights, neither does her heart. Orange-based soda can in one hand and a promise of a memory caged in the other one inside her purse, she feels like the world has forgiven her. What for? She doesn’t know, but the closure of a book that had lasted for far too long dizzies her with the desire to start a new one.

A handsome face can do so much. In clubs, she has met them. In beds, she has had them. In relationships, she has suffered them. Only when that handsome face has a bit of a spark is when she finds herself interested. Maybe, this is the wrong way to go and pushing those glassed doors is the cause of her doom. To be lone is better to be badly accompanied, but she can’t help but want to know more about him. Listen to Baekhyun’s laughter one more time, not over the phone when he sends her a voice note, but in real life, instead.

It may come as a mistake, but she has already committed many of those.

Pushing the glassed doors open, Sehun is patiently seated in his spot as always, this time around his feet are propped on top of the desk, one leg crossed over the other as he reads a magazine with intent. A glance is spared her way, followed by absolute silence from him.

“Is Baekhyun in here?” Hope gathers at her chest, just in time to Sehun’s finger pointing towards one of the seats.

“He’s cutting someone’s hair. You can wait if you want.”

“Can I give him something to drink?”

He lowers the magazine then, narrowing his eyes at her before a small smile takes his lips. “If it’s something alcoholic, I’ll have to taste it first.”

Taking the orange soda can from her purse, the magazine creaks its pages when Sehun opens it again. “It’s orange soda—”

“Not interested. Bring it to him.”

“Thanks.”

Taken away to dreamland is what it feels like to watch Baekhyun from afar. A friend for now, perhaps, one of those that she pines for on the long run. Honeysuckle in the way he distributes his happiness to the world, in how her heart seems to take in a bit of light at the radiation of his smile. The gray hairs of his client are curled by his fingers, laughing at whatever he is saying about her husband, just in time to be interrupted by the sound of her voice saying her name.

Baekhyun stops his ministrations then, sparing her a glance across that mirror that does no justice to the beauty of him. Sculpted by everything nice in this world, the sun shaping its rays and putting it in his curious gaze and sweetened lips. Enough to kill with one of his smiles.

“I brought you some soda.” Her voice is smaller than necessary, pushing her lips together when the old woman looks at her at the same time that Baekhyun lets the hair-curler rest on the vanity, grasping the can in between his fingers.

“You came all the way here for that?”

With a shrug of her shoulders, she nods. “Yeah. I was expecting you’d accept going out for dinner after.”

The sound that left his lips was not a laugh, but a giggle instead. The tips of his ears are a simple petal pink, flowers growing out of sunshine and needing the water that is her. “I have five clients to go.” Baekhyun answers when he has already opened the can, taking a sip with glee before hissing at the cold taste. “So, I don’t think I will be out before ten at night.”

“Oh…” A deflated balloon exists in the depths of her chest, just in time to watch Baekhyun widen his eyes.

“But I do want to take you out on a date!” He tells her, hands wrapping on her shoulders and shaking her the slightest. “I mean, I was waiting for you to give the step first since I felt like you were not ready but…just…not today?” His voice has dropped the slightest, tilting his head to the side to inspect her features up and down. “You were asking for a date, right?”

Well, technically no. But, some things are better when they are too good to be true. “Sure.”

“Not today, then. Tomorrow?” The hope in his voice drips, but she has to sigh.

“I have a dinner to attend to with my Boss.” She excuses herself. “The day after tomorrow?”

“Mhm, I could make it work.” Baekhyun, as busy as ever, picks the hair-curler up before his lips wrap up in the tightest smile. “Text me with what you want to do, okay?”

“Are you okay with watching the game?”

With a hum from his tone and a bit of a frown on his features, Baekhyun nods soon after. “It’s okay as long as I get to spend time with you.”

And why does that feel so different?

###

Chances are made to be taken. Mornings are meant to be new beginnings. Nights, actually, should be spent with a smile on her face with the tiredness of the day that represents another hardship that she passed by. It’s not always like this, but the recurring existence of Baekhyun in her weekends has made it, likely, a bit of a rule. Saturdays with tea. Friday nights out to dinner or to dance. Sundays that are quieter, but not so quiet when he is around.

His car is sleek, and he prides himself on the way he treats it. Has a name, too, but he will never catch her saying the name Clyde to some car. For the first time in the three weeks she has spent back-and-forth with Baekhyun, Mondays are taking the name of him. Insisting on taking her to her job, she is starting to get used to the hum of his voice when he listens to a song he likes or the way he is a bit more careful than she expected him to be.

His black button down is gone for today, packed in the backseat—more like hunched—for him to put it over his white t-shirt once he gets to the job. His hair, the pride of his brand, is pushed away from his face today, giving a glimpse of the constellations of moles on his face, the peace in his features, how he holds himself with confidence yet tranquility. For once with him, the world is silent…and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Though, upon taking a spot in front of the building, her eyes are blessed with the image of another person. Inside the black car, she gets a view of Ingook getting out of his own car, ruffling the messy strands of his hair with a free hand and—unluckily for her—turning to his left to lock his car, just to come in contact with an image that stops him for a second.

And he looks at her.

She looks at him.

They look at each other.

But what does she feel?

“Is that your ex?” Baekhyun asks, voice levelled—not at all angry, just like it doesn’t seem to be annoyed. The flutter of his fingers expanding on top of her knee to grasp at the skin is not enough to bring her out of her trance, watching Ingook who dares to mouth a small ‘who is that?’ to her. She can only nod to Baekhyun, the confirmation leaving her lips in a mere whisper. “He looks smelly.”

“He’s not.”

“That hair—”

“He’s not smelly.”

“His hair looks like a smelly guy’s hair, sorry but also…yeah, I’m not sorry.” A smile creeps up her face then, turning to her side as if forgetting the black and white image of the movie that is Ingook, to concentrate on a three-dimensional version of the newest film in the industry. More expensive, more scripted, way better. “You know what I want to do? But only if you feel like it.”

Pressing her cheek to the headrest, she sighs. “What is it, Baekhyun?”

“I really want to kiss you.” The presence of Ingook must have enticed something in him. Possessiveness, maybe, or some kind of competitiveness that comes ironic to someone who complains about athletes. Her smile doesn’t falter, looking down at his lips for the briefest second before chuckling.

“Just because he’s here?”

“No. I’ve wanted to do it after I saw you the first time but…” Baekhyun shrugs then. “Something doesn’t settle well with me when some asshole who cheated on you dares to ask you who I am, and stand there like a fucking statue.”

“You’re jealous.” She tuts, not noticing how the man leans forward just the slightest, a strand of his gelled hair falling on his forehead.

“And what about it?”

“Do I kiss jealous guys?”

“Well, you kiss dumbasses like Ingook. You could try it out with someone so much better.”

Hands threading on the soft black strands of his nape, she brings him a bit closer, tilting her head to the opposite side of his when she breathes against his lips. “And you’re that much better guy?”

The coldness and minty-ness of his breath brings goosebumps to her skin, the flutter of his lips touching her own in what seems to be a peck far from sedating. When drinking teas, she likes to take nice gulps, a little sip shall never suffice for someone like her. “Two hundred percent.”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to kiss me? Prove it.”

Silky lips trailing after her own, the beginning of it all is a mere touch, the glide of his skin coming in contact with her lip-gloss, savoring the touch before he asks for more. The swipe of his tongue, the breath that leaves his lips, the change of tone when he cups her jaw and lets the sound of his whispered words come in the contact in between the kiss. Lips smacking against each other, slowly, surely, like every worry and question that comes with being with Baekhyun is brought to certainty as she thinks of him. More than she has ever received, trying harder than anyone has ever done for her—

Someone who likes her for who she is, and will pride on the person she is, enough to kiss her in the bare daylight only to pull away and see that Ingook’s figure has departed towards the office. Not that she can care when she takes Baekhyun’s cheeks in between her hands, pressing another kiss to his lips to open the gates of laughter for him.

“I still have fifteen minutes before I have to get inside.” Baekhyun laughs even harder at her words.

“Inside of where?” The teasing tone in his voice and the implications of her innuendo has her hiding her face in his shoulder, nose tickling the junction of his neck.

“The office.”

“Right…”

“You dirty bastard!”

“Hey, you kissed this dirty bastard, not me. And with consent.”

“Stop talking and let me kiss you again.”

###

“Sehun.”

Silence.

“Sehun.”

Silence, but he does flip one of the pages of his favorite magazine. Her fingers come forward to grasp at the edges of the magazine, half of her body splayed on top of the main desk while the man glares back at her. Petty until the day he dies, still not forgetting her attitude from the first time they met.

Heated food in plastic bags is hanging from her fingertips, the skin taut and aching from walking all the way towards the hair salon. “Sehun. Is Baekhyun here?”

The question has lingered in between them the past few months. At this point, she thinks she is simply asking him because she can—and she will. The frown on his perfectly styled eyebrows is enough to know that she has gotten through his brain, irked one nerve that had him tossing the magazine on the desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“He is always here, newspaper girl.” But no longer in the third column. With much work from Ingook, who asked her plenty of questions to get on the right track in the sports section, and a little bit more interest from her part—and Dani’s speech skills—, she had gotten her spot back. With Jongin, and the chance of talking about the things she likes the most. “Listen, let’s set the record straight: I don’t like you, and you should really wash your shoes before they gain life of their own.” Trailing her eyes down, she inspects the sneakers that she wears the majority of the days. They are comfortable…but how in hell had Sehun been able to see them from his position? “But Baekhyun is dating you, so I have to compromise.”

“Okay…”

“Wear some other shoes. The washing machine is calling, and it says you haven’t used it in over a year.” Muffling her laughter behind her first, she flips the plastic bag to stay on her other hand to ease the pain on the other. “And stop asking if Baekhyun is here. Just enter, make yourself at home, and don’t touch my magazine again.”

“What’s with you and that magazine?” Sehun huffs then, leaning back on his seat to sport a pout that she had yet to see on him.

“I’m cutting coupons.”

“What?”

Lowering the magazine, he speaks a bit louder. “I’m cutting coupons, okay? Just get it going!”

“Okay, okay!” She can’t help but laugh as she sprints inside the salon. The hairdressers are more known to her know—Mirei, the one that normally stays beside Baekhyun’s vanity, a woman with bright blue hair and the most gorgeous vibrato to her voice. Dina, one of the oldest. Even the owner herself, that had given the hair salon to Baekhyun after her departure from the business.

Speaking of the man himself, his hair has changed. The words still clung to her once—bleach for heartbreak, he used to call it, coming from personal experience of his own. Though, the smile on his face is beaming while he paints one of his client’s hair. Half red. Half white. Beaming model eyes and nicely put-together conversation, she sees this man every month or so, one of Baekhyun’s favorite clients—

“Hi, Taeyong.”

“Hey!”

Passing by him, she receives the greeting, going over to Baekhyun, head tilted to meet her lips in a brief touch. She had once thought that kisses grew duller the more they were given; not that important, they were a glimpse of affection that trailed behind a night of passion or a morning of talking, a greeting to be exact, but with Baekhyun it feels different. Shares every secret of his with her when their lips meet, just as he studies her expression right after they pull away.

Books always said it. Magazines also do. One of the columns in the newspaper, based in love, relationships, sex, health and all of the like, has stated it as well. Love is always going to be boring. Ways to spice up someone’s romantic lives are always given, when asked or even when they are not. People are expected to get tired, to disrespect each other after a while. After her heart got broken, the same thing had been engraved in her brain.

“I read your column today,” Baekhyun juts his chin towards the newspaper on the vanity. He buys it everyday if necessary, reads it online when he can, and he never misses a game now. Not to say that he likes them, his head most likely resting on her shoulder, lips scattering touches along her neck, but he tries. “You really go off when it’s about volleyball, don’t you?”

“Kind of.” She answers, letting the food rest on the vanity beside the newspaper. The pages are opened, the third column coming forward with two names that she knows well. Dani and Ingook. Written there for the world to see. This time around, their publicity is for some local bakery, enough to capture her attention as she unloads the lunch they are going to share.

His words still hit her sometimes, even when seeing and talking to him is not the same anymore. That…respect is there, as a fellow columnist, the one that tells her that he was the one to edit this article, the one that reminds her he is the first person she loved. Ingook’s relationship with Jeonghwa may not have worked, but now she knows that hers with him wouldn’t have done so, either.

“Babe—”

The sweetened tone of Baekhyun’s voice has her dropping the honey topping she had brought with the meal when buying it on top of the third column. His name becomes stained, the paper latching into every drop of the sauce just when she sighs. “Sorry, let me clean it up.”

“Just one thing!” Baekhyun says. “Can you check my laptop to see the designs for the bottles of the shampoo line? I’m not sure if I like them…”

And the way he trusts her is so different for everything else she had had. Everyone else. The third column is now forgotten when she looks at him, heart swelled with the sunrays that touched the snow, the splatter of honey that now stands on her pages—him.

The rain may fall today and she wouldn’t care, because if she goes alone or not doesn’t matter. Not when she has him there, in her soul.

Falling in love is difficult, it doesn’t come in the blink of an eye—but maybe, she is unaware of how in love she is with him.

Something it is. Something powerful.

####

playlist: maye - tú ; taba chake - walk with me ; chevy - sweet boi ; cavetown - lemon boy ; mxmtoon - cliché

#baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun #exo scenarios #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #writing #exo fluff #exo angst #hairdresser!baekhyun #undercut!baek made me do it #also this is like the first piece i write in two months that is not queued so my brain was Fried #but i hope you like it?

[thesnowinthemountains]

NCT 127’s First Time Saying I Love You

(a/n:  1. i wrote a good half of these drunk, so apologies for the excessive fluff 2. i didnt know i was whipped for mark until i wrote that okay im sorry 3. i nearly threw my laptop out the window trying to post this please love it)

Taeil

You were sitting across from each other at the small dinner table in your apartment’s kitchen - the only one you could afford for the time being. There was barely enough space for two plates and glasses, but neither of you seemed to mind the proximity, and Taeil kept staring at you, which distracted you anyway. “What is it?” You asked for the millionth time. “Nothing, nothing,” he replied calmly, going back to his food, but just pushing it around his plate. Not a minute passed before he did it again. You swallowed a bite of food, sighed, and calmly put your fork down. “Taeil, what?” You asked, sharper this time. He smiled to himself and took a second before looking at you. “Your eyes are a really nice color.” He said, failing to hide a mocking smile. You frowned. “Why are you laughing?” You were just confused at this point. “I don’t know how to do this, just-” he breathed, gathering himself. “I love you.” Now you blushed, looking down. “I love you too,” you mumbled. 

Johnny

You came home from a long day of work, swearing to yourself you were going to quit. You needed to, your current job was starting to get to your head and affect your moods. You slammed the door on your way in, tossed your bag aside and launched yourself into the couch. You let out a long groan and a few seconds later, Johnny’s voice came from the hallway. “Long day?” he laughed, settling himself in the space next to you so you could lay your head in his lap. “God, you have no idea,” you sighed. You sat together quietly for a while, him playing with your hair until you were almost asleep in his lap. He let out a pensive hum. “What?” You murmured, eyes closed.   “I love you,” he said simply, like it was a fact he just read online.  “You just made my day,” you laughed softly.

Taeyong

You couldn’t remember what you had said, but he had smiled, his eyes bright, and you just knew. It was easy. He was so easy to fall in love with, easy to be around, your whole relationship was easy and fun. You were in a perfect space. He got excited about ducklings, and made little noises to himself when he cooked. He cooked. He liked big sweaters, and you liked borrowing them; they smelled like him. You liked to sleep in his bed, too, liked waking up surrounded with everything that was him and about him. It was a little while later and you couldn’t hold it in any longer, afraid your heart might just burst if you did.  “I love you,” you said it heavily, like it had been weighing on you and just the mere action of putting it out into the world would heal you of all your ailments.  “I love you too,” he smiled over the pot on the stove in front of him. You revelled in the domesticity of it, ready to pause this moment and never let it go.

Yuta

You and Yuta had met through mutual friends, ones he played soccer with, and ones you were in various classes with. You were at a study group with them one evening, going over notes from the past week’s classes, trying to gather information for an upcoming midterm essay you were dreading. One of their phones rang. “Hey, Yuta, what’s up?” You didn’t want to eavesdrop on the conversation, but your ears perked up on their own. “Study group. Yeah, she’s here, you wanna talk to her?” Your friend now looked at you from across the desk. He handed you his phone, but mumbled a quick: “Keep it short.” “Hey,” you spoke into the phone after pulling your tongue at your friend. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.” You heard the smile in Yuta’s voice. You smiled in return. “Oh?” “Yeah, I was just thinking I love you. You know, if you’re, uh... into that.” You could hear him shuffling with something on his end, and he was not a nervous person, but you could tell he was trying hard to be casual. “I see,” you decided to toy with him. “Well, then.” “Well, what?” The shuffling stopped. You hummed loudly, like you were thinking something over. He sighed. “Fine, fine, I love you too,” you smiled down at your notes before your friend snatched his phone back from your hand. “That’s enough of that,” he spoke into the phone, but looked at you, addressing you both. You pouted at him but a smile quickly crept back on your face.

Doyoung

This was to be the dinner during which you would introduce Doyoung to some friends of yours to test the waters, see how he would get along, see if they liked him. It was a work dinner, relatively casual, where some of your favorite coworkers were joking among themselves, and poking fun at other people around the table. You were in the younger ones, the newer hires, so you, Doyoung, and a handful of work friends sat at the farthest edge of the table. Doyoung was chatting away with a girl he didn’t seem to realize was in fact a close friend of yours. He looked away for a moment and she flashed you a thumbs up, and an impressed look. You smiled to yourself, happy to have the stamp of approval. “What’s so funny?” Doyoung focused all his attention on you now. You laughed to yourself quietly before meeting his eyes. “I love you,” you cocked your head. He blushed, but grabbed your hand under the table. “I love you too,” he kissed the side of your head, going back to his conversation. There was no helping your lovestruck smile, and a friend of yours across the table made fun of you for it, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Jaehyun

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, doing all the final things of the day, when Jaehyun leaned into the bathroom’s door frame. He was just watching you, and when you eventually looked back at him, he looked down. You went back to what you were doing, and he walked up behind you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. “What’s up?” You giggled. “I love you,” he mumbled against your neck before looking at you through the mirror again. Eyes wide, you turned to face him. He looked down at you, not saying anything. “Well, I love you too, then.” You laughed, pulling him into a kiss.

Winwin

It was late, you knew it, but you and Winwin were huddled together under a big cozy blanket on the couch watching episode after episode of your current favorite show. You had noticed him dozing off time and again, waking himself up with a start each time. You didn’t want to disrupt him, but there was an important scene involving his favorite character, so you lightly shook him awake, his head coming up from your chest and his eyes opening slowly. He looked somehow like both a puppy and an angel and you couldn’t believe you got to see him in moments like these. At that point, you had forgotten why you had woken him up in the first place, and the television was just background noise. “I love you,” you breathed, and your heartbeat sped up almost instantly. He smiled a small, happy smile. “I love you too,” he whispered, laying his head back on your chest, eyes closed.

Jungwoo

You were taking a walk around the neighbourhood. It was a perfect day, the sun shining but just enough of a chill to entice you to wear your favorite sweater. He was commenting on the surroundings, making silly jokes and getting giggles out of you. In the midst of his narration of your environment - the houses and cars and the little lives of the little people in all of them, their fun names and jobs and hobbies - he cut himself off. “I love you,” he said hurriedly before going back to his antics. “What?” You laughed. “What?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, what, the “I love you”? Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that a big surprise?” “No, I guess not,” you acquiesced, “I love you too, though.” You elbowed him playfully.  “Well, good, I hope so! You’d better!” He exclaimed, then smiled to himself.

Mark

You had found that loving Mark came in stages. First, you picked up little habits he had - none too specific, but you took notice and would smile to yourself. Then, you would go out of your way to make him laugh, because the sun shone in his eyes when he did. It went on like this until you finally admitted to yourself that you were in love with him, this cute dorky guy with the weird ears and sweet smile. You never said anything, and you figured if you ever did, things would get awkward and eventually your friendship might phase out, which was worse than pretending you felt nothing at all. One night, though, the two of you were in the middle of playing video games when you made a joke that had him doubled over in laughter. “Fuck, I love you!” He exclaimed through his laughter before getting very serious very fast. “Oh, I- I mean the- the- I- uh...” he stammered on like this until he noticed the look on your face. “What?” He eventually asked, startled by his own words and your wide eyes.  “I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” you said quietly, in what was probably the most serious tone you’d ever used around him. “Love me, I mean.” He stared at you, giggled, and got this big, stupid grin on his face. You thanked all your lucky stars and every light in the universe for allowing him into existence, into your life, and allowing him to feel for you as you did for him. 

Haechan

You had gone to laser tag with friends, and you had made him swear he wouldn’t somehow cheat, or eliminate you in some snide way. Ultimately, you knew perfectly well that he was the sort of boy who played dirty or not at all, so when he snuck up behind you and you heard the loud sounds of your elimination, you were mildly annoyed, but not surprised. You turned to stare at him, mouth open in mock offense. “Haechan!” You cried. “It’s the game, don’t blame the player,” he held his hands up innocently. You fumed, sticking your tongue in your cheek to stop from snapping back. You moved to catch him and he ran away. “I love you?” he called back, his laughter echoing, while you sighed and returned to your team’s home base. 

#nct 127 #nct 127 imagine #nct 127 reactions #nct 127 fluff #taeil fluff #taeil imagine #taeil x reader #johnny fluff #johnny imagine #johnny x reader #taeyong fluff #taeyong imagine #taeyong x reader #yuta fluff #yuta imagine #yuta x reader #doyoung fluff #doyoung imagine #doyoung x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun x reader #winwin fluff #winwin imagine #winwin x reader #sicheng imagine #sicheng fluff #jungwoo fluff #jungwoo imagine #jungwoo x reader

[gamebunny-advance]

So I’m Not The Only One

@pkbeamgamma​

I thought it was just me, but Encore Edition really does feel a lot worse to play.

At first I thought that I had just gotten used to the Switch version, and that Encore Edition was “better” and I just needed to relearn it. Because I could reliably beat every boss’s crazy mode and parry mode on Switch, and I could even get pretty far in at least perfect parry DJSS and 1010, but in Encore Edition I feel lucky to even pass the Hard mode for most bosses. It really feels like the cues for attacking don’t match up to the music anymore, which is a death sentence for a rhythm game. But I played basically on release day, so I dunno if maybe they’ve patched it since then to improve the timing.

Since we’re on this Encore Edition rant anyways (sorry, I’m gonna ramble a bit), I kinda hate that it exists in its current state. I know that they were probably already tied up in contracts and other obligations to push out the first versions of the games on all consoles, but if they were capable of adding these “improvements” in the first place, then why weren’t they there to begin with? Everything they added really wasn’t enough to justify full price on a “new edition” of the game, literally just 1 year after the original game came out. I’d argue that they could have just released a patch, but given how many versions of the game there are, I can see why they would think it wouldn’t be worth it to push one out to all versions (especially since Switch still NEVER got the Christmas DLC). And even then, Encore Edition still has bugs that were in the original release, like how Zed’s “quest” is still broken.

I hate to say it, but Encore Edition really does read like a cash grab. I don’t blame them. They’re an indie studio, so they gotta keep the cash flowing somehow so they can work on more games, but I dunno. It just doesn’t feel good. I think that Metronomik is depending a little too much on the already existing fanbase as a source of income, rather than focusing on expanding it by making the game better. I mean, just their twitter is FULL of spoilers for the game, but I think the first sign of this in Encore Edition is the new opening movie.

As cute as it is and how much I love it as a piece of media, it really does emphasize how much this game does NOT exist for new players because it reveals EVERY major boss encounter in the game, and in some scenes how to fight them (Wan Hazmer really wants to drill into everyone’s brain that you should run RIGHT in DJSS’s fight).

I dunno how other people feel about this, but I think that one of the best parts of this kind of boss rush game is being surprised by the bosses. I mean, the gameplay proper introducesthe artists shrouded in shadows and none of them besides Tatiana are revealed until it’s time to fight them. It creates a sense of intrigue and excitement for what you’re going to be up against. Just as an example, I feel like Neon J. was supposed to be a surprise when he was conceptualized because he lacks any kind of presence in the game until Phase 2 of 1010′s battle, but now that he’s a fan favorite, it’s hard NOT to find him everywhere. Even the new opening movie spoils his existence and even hints at his desires to dance himself, which I also felt was supposed to be a huge reveal for the final phase. It just does not make sense to reveal Neon J. early under any circumstance for a new player. Like it’s cool when we get fanservice, but it shouldn’t be to the detriment of the game.

Encore Edition really put an emphasis on the fans by including all the fanart which was kinda cool, but 1: all of that would seem SUPER out of place to anyone new to the game to just have all this *stuff* plastered all over the environments, and 2: I’m not really sure how the artists were compensated for their efforts besides just being included. From what I understand, they didn’t even get a copy of the game in return, which I would think is the bare minimum.  And I know Metronomik has done other cool things for the fans, especially the fanartists (I know about how they made and shipped out physical versions of the 2 zines for free to the artists that participated, which was SUPER cool of them to do), but for as “nice” as all that stuff is, it’s not making the game better.

Like, I can kinda get why they’re going for this approach: the reviews are already out for the game, and they were pretty middling. “Gamers TM” just aren’t going to buy into a game that’s a 6/10 at best, especially at NSR’s price point when there are HUNDREDS of other “better” games they could be playing. Since the damage has already been done, it’s probably going to be hard for them to get new people to get into it, so it’s easier to try and get money out of the people that are sticking around rather than to invest in trying to change public opinion about it.

I could keep on going, but I do want this studio to do better. This all comes from someone that loves this game enough to buy it 3 times. I really hope that they can take the lessons they’ve learned from making NSR to make Ondeh Ondeh a better game.

#nsr #behind the scenes: i actually had a comic idea for this #so it was a comparison between the switch version and EE version of the 1010 fight #it was like Switch version Crazy Mode: mayday breathes on 1010 and they explode #EE version Hard Mode: 1010 guns you down with assault rifles and continues to fire on your corpse #EE 1010 is no joke man #went from easiest boss in the game to one of the hardest #i also want to add that even if the final segment isn't a 'boss' in the traditional sense (you could call it Tatian's 'approach') #but it doesn't change that it's a kind of sour gameplay segment to end on

[nachohypno]

Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten!) - Ch. 5

Present Pine’s POV

Man, I feel so good right now.

Like, no responsibilities crossing my mind. No managing stuff to check for neither the club or the football team. No homework, finished all of it already. It was all just… perfect.

I could do whatever I wanted! I could play a video game from start to end in one go. Binge-watch a show while wearing my soft pajamas and covered in a blanket while eating sour cream chips. Whatever I want! Because I have free time!

I must admit: Having coach Mark as a live-in slave was one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. He took care of the cooking, cleaning, Mike (for any tasks that didn’t require love and affection, of course) and other tasks around, leaving me with lots of time to catch up on the stuff I had piling up, leading up to this happy moment of mine!

Let me explain for a bit. There was this weird thing happening at Winston high, involving the water and gas pipes being quite old and suffering from leaks. This, of course, led to the school being closed until the leaks had been solved, giving coach Mark one week of free time, which he was going to spend at coach Peter’s place, his old friend or whatever they are.

A little light bulb turned on above my head, and after the shift was over and my workers closed the sports club, I ordered Mark to gather his stuff and come to my place.

Now, he’s been sleeping in the extra bedroom we’ve got for… the last two weeks. I may or may not have ordered him to extend his free time to stay with me and Mikey.

Mike was playing a game at the living room, while I laid down in my bed, cozily resting like a baby. I could hear rain outside, so I didn’t think I would be going anywhere today. A perfect day to just stay over and do… nothing.

“Hey, bro?” Mike said, shaking my leg a little bit to get my attention. “We’ve got that doctor’s appointment soon. Shouldn’t we get ready or somethin’?”

‘Fuck, I forgot about that’.

I sighed, there goes my relaxation time. I reached out for my phone on the night table. “We still have two hours before having to get ready.”

“Awww, c’mooooon… I’m bored! Bored, bored, bored!” The big guy climbed on the bed, quickly getting behind me and pulling me closer for cuddles. A quick smooch on my cheek before he resumed saying “Bored” and smooching me again, attempting an endless cycle of smooches and the word ‘bored’.

“Okay, okay! I get it! But I can’t pull the appointment forward, big guy. We just have to be patient and… relax.” I said, moving quickly enough to catch him before he smooched me, and kissing him on the lips. I smiled afterwards, and he gave me a little dumb chuckle.

“Alriiiiight… Can we do something, at least? I don’t wanna play alone anymore…” Mike mumbled, slowly going to my ear and nibbling it.

“Would you like to hear the last chapter?” That was my wild card. I knew he would accept that no matter what, and I didn’t want to use my powers to make him calm down. I just wanted to relax after all my work…

“Yeah, bro! Would really love to-“

“Well, calm down for a bit, sit down over there and give me a minute.” I ordered, and he obeyed. Mike pulled away from the hug, and I moved for a bit to see his glassy eyes and his dummy smile as he carried out my commands. Not going to lie, it was a bit of a turn on.

I went back to my perfect position, barely moving for a few more moments, before I shouted “Mark! Could you come here for a bit?”

I had to sit up for a bit, as I noticed the coach entering the bedroom. The older muscular man was wearing nothing but his underwear, and his usual chain link necklace falling between his pecs. “How may I serve you, master?” He asked, standing at attention like some kind of soldier.

“Come up here, lay with us for a bit.” I ordered, patting the spot between me and Mike. Mark nodded and climbed the bed, slowly crawling over to the spot before turning around and sitting down in the middle. “Okay, so let me see…” I mumbled, reaching out for my laptop on the night table.

It didn’t take long for me to find the file and open it up. After that, I just scrolled over to the last chapter, and passed the thing to the coach who just stared at me while waiting for more commands.

“Read this out loud for Mikey, alright? Imagine you’re reading a bedtime story or something…” I would have loved to read that, but I preferred to just listen while relaxing on my own for today.

“Of course, master. Starting from ‘I felt awesome’, right?” Mark asked, and I nodded.

“Wait, bro. I thought you were going to read it… I mean, no offense coach.” Mikey complained, and he was starting to get on my nerves. I love him! But I wanted to enjoy this little moment!

“None taken, master Mike”

“Mike, just lay down, hug the coach, and listen to the story. You really want to hear him telling it today.” I honestly didn’t want to reach the point of solving the problem with my powers, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t mind at all. I heard him whisper the usual ‘Yes, master…’, as he slid down a bit and hugged the coach’s muscular body.

I sent the coach a ‘hug Mike back with one arm’ through the mind link, because I thought they would look really cute doing that. I sat up for a bit just to watch my handy work, and went over my expectations.

Two hunks, dumb smiles with glassy eyes hugging each other, as the coach prepared himself to tell the story.

I hugged the coach too, and prepared to hear the last chapter of my first plan, too. I gotta say, his arm felt comfortable to lay my head at.

-----

Past Pine’s POV

I felt AWESOME.

Not only I managed to make the bullying completely stop by now (I don’t know if the coach or Gary had anything to do with it, but the football players just acted like I didn’t exist anymore and I LOVE THAT), but I also managed to enslave one of the hottest guys around, along with the football coach!

And let’s not leave Brent behind! We played Minecraft last night, it was actually pretty fun! He wore a random naked guy skin because I ordered him to and I would burst in laugh every time he approached me in-game with his nudist avatar.

So… what’s next?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not usually a vengeful person. Now that the bullying stopped, actually. I feel like I can put down the mind control blanket and somehow never use them again, but a part of me actually wanted to have a bit of fun as payback for all the stuff that happened.

And sadly, (For them) I decided to go with the latter part.

It’s been a week or so since the coach went under, and after the little fun we’ve had at his office, nothing else really happened. I wanted to keep things undercover for some time, but I decided to start planning the last phase of my not-really-well-thought plan.

First, we needed a place to carry it out, and that’s why I decided to visit… the coach’s house!

Hey, he said that I could use anything he owned. So, I guess he won’t mind if I use his house as a little base or something.

Gary was driving me here, a little smile on his face. He wasn’t tranced, of course. I don’t want to risk using my powers while he drives or anything. What if I told him to go to a certain place faster and he suddenly went through the woods or something? The sole thought of it terrified me.

Winston is not a big town, but it’s kind of divided in sections and all. The commercial part, residential zone, and the zone with the big houses and crazy pricing. It’s not like an avenue of mansions, this is a small town after all. But some people do have nice houses, and coach Mark seemed to be one of them.

“We’re…” Gary mumbled, once we entered the property. He stopped the car in front of the house. “Here. What now?”

“We just explore the place. Ever came here? Mike told me you and the coach were pretty close.” I said, getting my bag and walking out of the car. Gary followed me quickly, stepping out and closing his door.

“Kinda, y’could say so. I’m the best player of the team, so I guess he just wanted to pay extra attention to me.” Gary shrugged, before grabbing the house’s key from his back pocket. I asked him to carry it before, when the coach gave us a copy. “I don’t mind it, it’s kinda nice. He yells at me a bit less than the other guys''

I can tell that’s a really great advantage, and I’m really glad the guy starts acting like a robot-ish slave whenever we’re alone. He drops the f-bomb like crazy when he’s mad, and he seems mad all the time.

My jock partner opened the front door, and we went in.

The place looked… certainly not like I expected it. I expected something more ‘manly’ or coach-like, probably filled with supplement cans to the ceiling or something like that. But nope, it was just a regular house. Maybe expensive looking, but it didn’t top Garrett’s family mansion.

Garrett didn’t seem surprised. “What do you think?” I asked him, wanting to hear his mind on the matter.

“Huh? Been here before. It’s… a house, I guess? I still don’t know what you’re planning to do, bro, so I can’t really help you unless you tell me.” He shrugged again. He was right, though. I can’t expect him to guess my plans, right?

“Well… Do you think the whole football team… will most of the football team fit here?” I asked, crossing my arms. I looked around while I waited for his answer. The place wasn’t small at all, but if I wanted to carry out the plan here… we would have to squeeze everyone in, probably. Unless I separated them in groups and sent each group to a room.

The football players are big. Not as big as Gary or Mike, but big.

“Hmm… Not here, but maybe in the backyard.” The big guy mentioned, motioning with his head to follow him.

Oh, I didn’t think of that. I followed Gary as he took me through the house, before we arrived at the backyard.

Hey, it looks quite good! A pool, some plants laying around that are alive, a pair of deck chairs, and there was a little deck with some chairs and a small table, next to a grill. And yeah, it was quite spacious! The jocks would definitely fit in here.

“We’ve got the place covered, then. We should get back, if someone saw us in the house of a school staff person, we would be in trouble.” I pointed that out, as I pictured my plan taking form with the coach’s backyard as our main base.

“Oh… really? But we’ve just arrived! ‘sides, the coach will be here any minute now. You should tell him we’re going to use his place or something, right?” It seemed like he wanted us to stay a bit more, and I kind of couldn’t tell why. “C’mon, I’ve never seen this guy’s bedroom. Please, bro?” Oh, that gives me an idea, yeah.

“If you insist…” I grabbed his hand and pulled him by the pool, next to the deck chairs. “Take off your clothes, leave your underwear on.”

“Sure, master!” He answered, before the show started in front of me. I found it quite funny how Gary seemed so eager to strip, or straight up do what I say now. He’s a good boy. “Done!”

His clothes were all around the floor, as he stood in front of me, seemingly flexing his abs to make them look more defined.

“Now what, master?” He asked, a little smile on his face, probably expecting me to tell him to do something naughty.

“Now we go back to the car, and you drive like that all the way back to my place. How does that sound?” The smile vanished from Gary’s face and the disappointment made me burst in laughter. I just couldn’t help it. If you saw me now, you would never guess this guy was my bully before, and now he frowned because I wouldn’t do naughty stuff with him.

This is gold stuff here, guys!

He remained silent as I kept laughing for a bit, before I regained composure and told him to put his pants on again. Gary only mumbled a defeated ‘Yes, master’, but wouldn’t add any comments or anything like before.

“I’m not having you driving naked around the town. That would be weird. C’mon, let’s head back and call it a day, okay?”

“Sure thing, bro. Can’t be mad at ya.” My classmate answered, lowering his voice at the last bit. It was cute, but I’m not really going to bend over and fuck at the first chance we have. That would be weird.

We headed over to the car as soon as Gary’s jeans were on again, and we went each to our houses. I was happy, already got a place to have my plan at!

-----

It was a slow plan, that’s for sure. It’s been a few weeks and no idea at all on when I was going to continue it. Or even make it happen!

Luckily, it’s not like I don’t have stuff to distract myself with during these ‘wait times’. There were a few exams, and I kind of really like studying. Reading books and preparing my head to gather more knowledge just makes me feel productive!

There were also little hang out times I had with Gary, always a good time. He doesn’t really like video games, says it’s ‘nerd stuff’, but we play them anyway after school because I do like them.

So, I was on my way to the coach’s office during the lunch recess (I had a jam and cheese sandwich in my bag, so I could skip the cafeteria if I wanted) and ask him when the next local football game was happening. If all the football jocks go away to another school, it would be useless. It had to happen at Winston High.

I decided to make a quick stop in the bathroom. Staging a plan makes me pretty nervous, and I like to… chill for a bit. Doing the ‘business’. Why does writing this feel so weird?

Reaching the boys’ bathroom, my thoughts about emptying my bladder were quickly interrupted by sobbing.

It was quite unexpected. So, in my best ‘I want to help!’ mood, which was never usually there in the first place, I asked “Hello? Anybody here?”. Only for the sobbing to stop, of course.

I was curious, so I tried something out. I wanted to help, and maybe this would be my first chance to actually do some good with my newfound powers.

…By messing into other people’s lives, I guess!

“Whoever it is, come out” I ordered, trying to see if my powers made any effect on whoever was sobbing a moment ago. If nobody came out, I would get the hell out of there because I just made a fool of myself. ‘Maybe it was the wind or something’ I thought, before one of the stalls opened.

Mike came out, cleaning his face with his jacket’s sleeve before looking at me. “Yo, bro… Everything a’ight? Heard you called…” He sniffed, before giving me a warm smile. His face was red and his eyes were swollen. He had been there probably for a while.

“Yes, yes. Everything is fine here. What about you? Something bothering you, big guy?” I asked, taking a step closer to him. It was weird seeing him like this. He was always so cheerful, even when dumbed down. Only times I’ve actually seen him sad or mad were the times I didn’t want to speak to him.

I hoped nobody would come in. If someone saw Mikey like this, he would be pretty much ruined. I could always make the intruder forget seeing him like this, I guess. I don’t really trust my control over my powers too much to save me in an emergency.

“I’m… I’m about to get kicked out of the team, bruh.” He sniffed again, and I could see tears slowly forming again in his eyes. “I failed all my exams, and my grades pretty much dropped… I don’t know why, bro! I totally had that stuff nailed down before!”

I gulped, but couldn’t say anything. Mike continued though, so I kept listening. “The principal talked to the coach, and the coach told me earlier today that if my grades didn’t improve, I would be out of the team” I gulped again.

Darn, darn, darn, darn! I did this! These are the consequences of my own actions!

I mean, I didn’t dumb Mike down on purpose, but I didn’t revert it back when I found out about it either! WHAT THE HELL?!

This is actually a big problem, because I remember Mike wanted a football scholarship for college. His big dream is becoming a professional football player, and I was ruining it for him! I wanted to… I don’t know, grab my own head and hit it with a wall. How could I be so reckless?

Watching Mike didn’t help at all. I remember that before the incident, looking up at my best friend has always been some sort of relief. Like ‘Hey, I’m best friends with the best guy in the whole world!’ and it would make me kind of empowered, if that makes sense.

But Mike was really crushed with this stuff. As I mentioned, he was a really positive guy before, and I’ve never seen him cry. Only get mad at a videogame or after being yelled at at football practice.

And I really fucked up this time.

I couldn’t help but feel my head suddenly filled with bad stuff. I KNEW I fucked up, and it was like these little intrusive thoughts wanted to underline how BADLY I had fucked up.

I should have known better!

I sighed, and tried to calm myself down. And for that matter… I went forward and hugged Mikey. “Hey, don’t feel bad. It’s been just some awful weeks, alright?”

Mike wrapped his big arms around me. “Yeah, pretty awful weeks, bruh…” I looked up, and noticed he wasn’t tranced, so that was good. I really didn’t want my powers to get in the way again.

I sighed. I would need them to fix this mess, though.

“And… Uhm… I just want you to realize that… you’re not really a dumb jock. It was all in your head, you’re actually the same Mike Travis you’ve ever been…” I tried to sound commanding, but it came off as weak and weird. “Forget what I said that night, alright? You’re a really good student and you want to keep getting better and better.”

“Same… Mike… Better… and better…” The big guy mumbled, his arms slowly going numb as they dropped to his sides. Now he was entranced.

He remained still for a few more minutes, me still hugging him. I couldn’t see what was happening in his brain, but I would have died to do so. I wanted to know that I was helping him. I wanted him to be my old best friend again.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Mike finally moved, and he hugged me back again. “I dunno why we’re hugging, but it feels kinda warm, bro.”

Huh. It seems to have worked? His face still seemed like he had been crying for quite a while, but he didn’t look as confused as he was when dumbed down. That’s… a good sign, I guess.

“Mikey, can you tell me the square root of sixteen?” Just a little check. Old Mikey knows this one really well…

“Why’d you ask? It’s four, Piney! Did you hit your head or somethin’? Did someone hurt you?” His face seemed surprised at that last possibility, but I decided to shrug everything off and hug him even tighter.

“Don’t worry… You won’t get kicked out of the team, I��ll make sure of that” By ordering the coach to stop being an asshole, of course. I almost forgot he acts like his normal self when I’m not around. I could definitely make him nicer or something.

“Huh? How are you gonna do that?” He asked, the confusion returning to his face, and I realized I made a weird statement while Mike is supposed to not know about my mind control powers.

“Uh… I was thinking you could join my tutoring classes? Gary-ett’s doing pretty fine with them, and so does Brent. Another guy won’t hurt; would you like to join?” I tried to save myself with that little offering.

Mike smiled at me, and hugged tighter. “Sure thing, bro! Pretty sure I’ll be able to get my grades up in no time with your help!” I patted his back a bit, kind of wanting him to let me go because the hug got too tight. He did so, luckily, as his grin grew bigger. “Thanks a lot, Piney. You’re the best friend ever”

[M: Just a little heads up, I do remember that part, and I also remember wanting to kiss you back then. Oh… you’re asleep. Never mind, keep going Mark]

“Don’t worry, big guy. Just happy to help!” I answered, trying to sound confident. “Hey, I was called by a professor and I should get going, but I’ll text you the details of the tutoring thing later, okay?”

“Okay, yeah! Can’t wait!” Mike seemed so cheerful once again that it made me really happy just to see him like this. It’s like when you see a person so happy that it gives you happiness just to know that they’re happy.

We both walked out of the bathroom and went in different directions. So… that’s fixed. I should get a little hold back on how and why I use my powers. They seem to work better when I sound commanding, that could be a good way of controlling them, and I have to make sure that them doing what I say doesn’t interfere with their lives.

Like, life-ruining stuff is out of the question. I don’t think I should decide who does or doesn’t get a nice time.

Hmm… That could be useful, like giving myself a set of rules. Well! Rule #1: Don’t ruin people’s lives with my powers.

That’s a good start! Just gotta be careful with who I control and what I order them to do, and I should be good to go. Better to prevent any more incidents rather than go around fixing all of them. Let’s save Mikey as the example of what not to do to a person!

I resumed my walk to the coach’s office, a little smile on my face now that I fixed my awful mistake. I would have to work hard to help the big guy, but I didn’t care. Now though, back to the matter at hand.

-----

It had been some slow days, but it was finally GAME DAY!

People didn’t seem thrilled, but the fun started after school at night, I think around seven pm or so. I never really been into football games. Mike never really forced me to go, he knew I didn’t care and he would message me afterwards saying if they win or lose, to keep me updated. We didn’t really celebrate it anyway; the team has their own celebrations.

But today, it was different. The rival teams would be arriving a while before, as expected, and that would be the first part of my plan: Getting the rival jocks under.

That meant nothing interesting during the school day, of course. Only thing I can think of was that the football jocks were pretty nervous about it, but they’re always nervous about game days.

If they won, that would be amazing. If they lost, that would mean harsher practices in the future. And we all know the coach would love an excuse to have harsher practices, that man is like Satan.

Luckily, this was a friendly match. So no matter which team wins, there wasn’t really any consequence for losing, besides the practice thing.

Speaking of the coach, I had a chat with him, after I met and… undumbized? That’s not a word… Anyway, after I turned Mike back to normal again.

I told him that his house was going to be the meeting point, once the game is over and if I manage to get the jocks nice and obedient before that, and I also ordered him to not kick Mike out of the team, no matter how low his grades get or anything. Big guy doesn’t deserve that, he loves football!

But yeah, so the only loose end for now was…

I waited in the locker room, as the rival team walked over here. They should come in in a few minutes, and I would be ready to greet them. I couldn’t take too long, because they had to dress up and go out for the game.

If everything went well, I would only be with them for less than 7 minutes and they wouldn’t even notice my presence. Probably. I’m not a ninja yet.

Sitting in one of the benches, I saw them coming in one after the other. At first, they didn’t notice my presence, probably because some of the lockers were in the way and so. But after a few moments passed, all the jocks already in the room, there was a guy pretty surprised to see me there.

“Woah! Who are you, bud?” One of them said, a guy with blonde short hair. He was big, quite surprisingly. I don’t know if he’s muscular but he could compete with Gary any day and I would live to see that. He had a nervous smile, but also seemed on the verge of freaking out if I didn’t answer soon.

“May as well be a weirdo, when did he come in?” Another jock said, causing a bit of laughter around the room.

“Well… uh… I…” Of course, I was freezing up. I sighed, before getting up and standing on top of the bench. I had a good look at the room, and all the jocks inside of it. This was going to be interesting.

“My name is Pine. You want to be polite and say ‘Hi, Pine’ now.” A simple thing, maybe even nitpicky, but there were only two possible outcomes for this.

A loud “Hi, Pine” was droned in the room, and I noticed not even one of them remained silent. Nice, we’ve got the outcome where I don’t get beaten up and kicked out of the locker room by total strangers.

“Great, off to a good start! Now, I want all of you to listen very closely to what I’m going to say… you can drop your shirts, while you’re at it.” I ordered, and watched as the eleven guys in the room started lazily taking off their t-shirts, quite quickly.

Some of them were nice and muscular, others seemed to have little bellies, which was really cute. I just realized I’m so used to watching big and strong jocks, this was a nice change of style for a bit.

“So. Listen very carefully now to what I have to say. After the game, you guys are going to return here and wait for me for a little surprise chat. And while we’re at it, get your heads around the idea that you are going to start doing everything I say. Do you understand?”

This seemed quite direct and straightforward. I was worried I would need a slow or kind of weird chat to have them under and obedient, but so far it seemed quite right.

The jocks droned altogether with a robotic “We understand…”

“Great, that’s awesome.” I said, getting down from the bench. “I’ll let you dress up for the game in a bit. Just another thing…” This was going to be cheesy and weird as fuck, but here I go… “I’m your master now, and I want you guys to accept that fact by saying ‘Yes, master Pine’.”

Now that I had a few of them closer, I could see how they had the usual glassy stare and blank face. I loved this.

And to seal the deal…

“Yes, master Pine” I wanted to throw a punch to the air and celebrate, but better keep the composure, I had to repeat this with my own team now and I didn’t know if I would be lucky this time.

“Okay, now I’ll head out, and see you after the game! You’re going to want to talk with the local team in their locker room after the whole thing is over!” I said, really happy with how the first stage of the plan was going. That last order seemed a bit clunky, but they mumbled a quick affirmation, and that was all I needed.

As I headed out, I saw the blond guy that first noticed me in the room. Now that he had his shirt off, I could notice that he was pretty built. I decided to give him a bit more of attention, since he was the first one to reach out to me.

“You are going to be a very… very good boy, isn’t that right?” A pretty dumb smile formed on the guy’s face, as he nodded like an idiot. His glazed eyes gave him the perfect touch; he seemed deeply mindfucked!

“Yeaaah. Gonna be a veeeery good booy…” I noticed a little bit of saliva dripping from his mouth. Hey, I’m quite liking this guy. He’s got the spirit!

Looking around, the other guys seemed pretty zoned out too, but were slowly coming out of it and grabbing their bags. Time for me to head out!

“See you in a while” I patted the blond guy’s pec and walked out. I should ask for his name later, but he’s just a visitor so I shouldn’t really focus much energy on enslaving him. Not sure when I’ll have another chance to have these guys around.

As I looked around, wondering where the local team was, I bumped with Mike. Again. “Ow. We gotta stop finding each other like this, bro!” The big guy laughed, already in his football uniform. The armor underneath the jersey made his shoulders look even bigger than they were.

“It’s… okay. I see you’re ready for the game?” I asked, kind of surprised he was all dressed up already. I grabbed my phone and noticed it was… almost seven?! I guess I didn’t really have as much time as I would have liked.

“Yeah! Yeah, coach wanted us to get better and start heading out for the field. I thought about going to the other locker room and wishing the other guys good luck. Y’know, to try and be friendly about the fact that we’re going to kick their asses.” He finished with a proud smile. Funny, seems like he’s being a bit cockier than usual. “But I wasn’t really going to tell them that last part, only the good luck thing…” Aaaand that’s the Mikey I know!

“Maybe we should get going to the field, to avoid being late and having the coach scold you for not being there when the game starts?” Just wanting to play it safe, if he got engaged in a chat in the locker room, coach would become furious.

“Yeah… You’re probably right.” He mumbled, before he motioned me to follow him with his head. I did so, I had to go to the field anyway. Not much sense sticking around the rival team for now, just had to wait until the game is over.

“By the way, what were you doing over there? Wanted to jinx them so they would have bad luck or something?” Man, he must be really nervous about this game if he keeps thinking about ‘luck’ and all.

“Nope. I was just… looking for Gary, he told me he would be around there and I was afraid he may pull a prank on the other team.” I lied. I can’t just tell Mike ‘I was in the locker room declaring myself as their new master’, since I wanted to keep him out of this mind control thing. (Also because it sounds awfully weird).

“Yeah, no. He was in the locker room too. He may still be there, actually. Kinda weird that you want to see him but not gonna judge and all that, bro.” Mike shrugged, before wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close for a weird not-hug. “Someone has aaaaa… Actually no, that would be dumb.”

“A what? What were you going to say?” I was curious! I kinda had an idea, but I still wanted to know!

“Nothing! Nothing! Now you’ll never know, mwahaha!” Darn, and I couldn’t force the answer out of him with my powers. Not that it really matters, but my curiosity will be itching now whenever I remember this chat.

“You’re a jerk.”

“But the best jerk you’ve ever known. Riiiiight, Piney?” He pulled me even closer now, turning the thing into an uncomfortable hug now by how close we were.

“Yeaaaaah, gimme some space!” I said, trying to get him off me. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and I think he noticed that because he kept smiling.

“You’re just lucky we’re about to reach the field! Otherwise, you would never escape my big hug!” He moved his hands in front of me, before giving a light pat on my back. “Wish me luck? Pretty please?”

“Good luck, big guy. Although you don’t really need it.” I wanted to encourage him for a bit, but actually… “In fact, when the game starts, you will get super focused and play like a pro, giving out your best while also enjoying the game. Understood?” There, some nice orders! I think that’s the first time I didn’t order someone to do something for me.

The glassy stare appeared in his face, but it faded quickly. “Thanks for the nice words, bro! See you in a while!” Mike finished, and ran back into the locker room, then out to the field.

I entered the locker room, wondering if anyone was actually still in there. Not a single soul. Okay, I should start getting ready for phase two.

----

Author’s note:

Okaaaay, this was supposed to be the last chapter, but it ended up being too long so I divided it in two parts.

I’m quite proud on the rival team’s scene. It felt kinda... empty before, but I’m glad I managed to expand on that bit. Definitely one of the highlights of this chapter :p

Also, chapter 6 is available in my Patreon. Feels weird writing that again after so long, huh. 

For the newcomers, don’t worry. It’s just an early access/support thing. It will go public on here and GSS next week or so :3.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for reading!

#PinesFootballJocks #PinesJocks #hypnotized #gay hypnosis #straight to gay #brainwashing #brainwash #brainwashed #mind control

[trickkombowerskru]

Rodrick Dates Rowley’s Older Sister

Request: @nahbrothatsgay​: Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a headcannon or something for Rodrick dating Rowleys older, edgy sister? Fluff and maybe a couple a NSFW comments in there too? ;) I’ve read like ALL the Rodrick fics on this site and I am desperate  thank you️

A/N:Okay first things first thank you for being so damn patient with me my dude. I am so sorry this took this long... tbh I had this one and something else done for a while and have been sitting on it I just wanted to catch up on all in my ask, and school, followed by the amazing convention, and then after that procrastination got in the way of me doing  that and I’m sorry, but alas I am back. I’m almost done with my spring break, but all my classes have been moved online for the rest of the semester I’ll have a ton of time at home on my hands. Once again thanks for being so understanding, especially since this request happened in the midst of the last shipping event 💕

Warnings: Mentions of sex

To say you were the black sheep of your family....

Well that was an understatement

It's not like you were completely unlike them

You did enjoy family time and all

All the corny stuff was kind of endearing to you

But everything else

Nah

A total 180

From music

To how you dressed

It was all different

You also unlike your family had an actual sass bone in your body

But as long as you were nice to your little brother

And got good grades

Your parents really didn't mind your style

You could always hear them trying to convince themselves it was a phase

Which made you just chuckle and roll your eyes

Who know maybe it was

But at the moment it made you happy to dress this way

And that was all that mattered

Despise Rowley and Greg being best friends for years you and Rodrick kind of stayed off each other's radars

Like you knew of his existence

And he knew of yours

But it ended there really

Neither of you had even seen what the other had looked like

Since you didn't share any classes really

Or if you did you zoned out enough after your names were called in attendance to not  pay attention to the other

At least you didn't before

Normally whenever you had to pick up Rowley from the Heffley house

Rodrick was either in his room or his shitty band was practicing in the garage

But today he was front and center leaving the kitchen with a snack in hand

He nearly drops it when he sees you

The sudden noise making you look over in his direction

Your eyes lock and from there cue the mutual pining

"Earth to Y/N," your brother tries to get your attention.

"Are you malfunctioning or something?"

Greg looks between your gaze and quickly picks up on what's going on

"Awwww two freaks in love," Greg mocks

"Shut it fart face!" "Can it worm!"  you and Rodrick yell at the same time

You look at each other again and smile once more keeping the gaze shorter this time

And then you are on your way

From that point making sure you're always the one to pick him up

And Rodrick vice versa

Just to talk to each other

Finding each other in few your shared classes

After a burst of confidence you asking him out

Him being totally flustered but agreeing

Sneaking around from there

At least on your end anyways

Your parents didn't really like Greg

And you couldn't say you blamed them

He was a nice enough kid and all

But some of the things he did were just too far

To be honest you still hadn't forgiven the little shit for breaking your brother's arm

But because they pretty much hated Greg you knew if they found out about you and Rodrick that they would try to end the whole thing almost immediately

And that was the last thing you wanted

Swearing your brother to secrecy

Him feeling bad saying it's lying

And you telling him that it's not lying just not telling them who your dating

Which makes him feel a bit better

Susan thinking it's so sweet that you two are together

Also probably getting caught by your parents early on

Like only 3 months in

When they were supposed to be out and came home early to the sight of you snuggled up on the couch

Fighting hard to keep your relationship

Tbh 100% a "But Daddy I love him" type of deal

Your dad caving and allowing it

But saying you had to be in the living room or have your door open when he was over

You agreeing

But you easily found a way around that rule

By simply going to his place

Or having him come over when you parents were at work

Rodrick being all cute and flustered when your all dolled up for a dance

Going to all of his gigs even if Chris couldn't sing for shit

Going to a bunch of regular concerts together too

Which is always fun watching him be such an adorable fanboy

Him teaching you how to play drums if you want

Being all cutesy in front of Greg and Rowley to make them fake gag

Or if you wanted to pull out the big guns just start making out

Having a new permanent ride to school each day

And rocking out with your cute boyfriend beat taking the bus ANYDAY

Lots of making out in the van

Also being each other's firsts

If you somehow thought Rodrick wasn't a virgin before he met you

Oooof my friend you are EXTREMELY mistaken

Once you get comfortable with each other though lbr...

Van sex is a common occurrence

It's the whole set up too

Whenever he's taking you out somewhere like near the lake or something

He'll set a comforter and blanket back there with some pillows

To make it nice and cozy for you

That's usually some point soon after a gig happens

When all his equipment is temporarily in the house

Being able to knock down the his fake confidence facade in three seconds

As mentioned before that boy just gets all blushy and sweet around you

It's the cutest thing

Babe is like the go to name for both of you

Overall just such a sweet relationship between two punks 

#diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley x reader #devon bostick

[electricbluebutterflies]

Soft babes + “You don’t have to sleep here just because I got admitted.”

Chris/Melissa, post 6x06. Did not use the actual prompt line but it did make a good starting point here. PG-ish and also on ao3.

Two years. Two damn years of dealing with what seems like an endless parade of new types of supernatural beings, after spending half her life beautifully oblivious to the existence of anything of that sort, and Melissa’s breaking point is apparently very human and very not used to anyone caring.

It’s not even the whole ancient magical medicine part of the last day of her life that has her overwhelmed, although she did take a moment to write that list down because it could be useful later. Nor is it remotely surprising that the man she’s currently hovering over managed to get himself hurt – from what she’s pieced together, this isn’t even close to a low point there. It’s more…

When bad shit happens to the kids, even the ones who went through hell before they turned into whatever they are now, they all have this sense that they do deserve some kind of caretaking. Her counterpart, on the other hand…

She’s never seen that many scars on a human body before, and she only got a good look from the waist up. It figures this, of all things, would finally be the match for her resilience.

It’s over with now, Melissa reminds herself. It’s over with, and she didn’t have to appropriate anything that would get flagged as anything more than inventory error if anyone were to assess the state of a few supply closets, and half her coworkers know she’s involved in some kind of bizarre situation that doesn’t usually happen out here. Someday she will probably have to explain the supernatural world to a few of her quieter coworkers; for now, it is enough that when Visibly Weird Shit comes in and she’s on shift, it is automatically her problem. She wonders offhand who knows what, who suspects what, how no one questioned this latest round to her face.

(She will blame Malia for that, she decides. The girl tries, but sometimes the claws and fangs are a little more publicly visible than they should be. With that kind of distraction attached, and recent enough in a few particular memories, Melissa could probably do whatever she wanted for the next week and no one would bat an eyelash.)

And the thing is, she’s gotten used to the not-knowing because she can’t make predictions about the biology of creatures she doesn’t understand. A decent working knowledge of werewolf medical care may be her life’s work if all of this keeps up – Melissa is under no delusions this phase of her life will be over when the kids leave for college, she knows how word gets out about safe people, and apparently Beacon Hills is a magnet for creatures so there is no way this ends anytime soon – but most of the time it's trial and error and misjudging metabolism and toxicities. This is different. This is very human and determined to fight her even when drugged to hell, which… is honestly a little more conflicting than it should be.

Blame the loneliness of her positions. Blame the fact that he’s reserved enough she’s not even sure what to call him, what level of formalities they’re working with here. Blame her involuntary dry spell and how long it’s been since someone on her level has fully appreciated how capable she is. She does not care anymore.

It's over, but she is still not letting that man out of her sight because she has heard enough stories not to trust his ability to rest when ordered to. She has a few admin tasks to do anyways, an attempt at electronically erasing the last day or so. It won’t be perfect, her little detours never are, but again the goal is just to avoid a major flag, if it looks like effort was made then she’ll be okay and-

Oh never mind, he’s awake. Next time, she thinks, next time she is finding a way to hook up better sedatives without doing anything she’d have to explain to anyone else. If this is her life for the rest of her life, she needs to find better workarounds.

“You’re still here,” he breathes. She did not realize his voice could get lower but apparently it can, and there are too many possible reasons for that and she worries and-

“Yep, because you won’t ignore me and go chasing whatever the hell attacked you if I don’t give you the chance,” she replies. She knows that’s where this ends – it has to be. Somehow the whatever-the-hell will end up connected to why she’s had to unlock a few doors in the past two weeks and cash in a favor with security, and things will go wrong for other people but not her because the bad things do not happen to her and-

“You don’t have to stay.”

Melissa turns and conjures up what she hopes is a good death glare. Fine, so their relationship so far has  mostly been of the we’re stuck in each other’s worlds so might as well coordinate attempts at surrogate parenting variety and that doesn’t leave a whole lot of space for actual bonding, whatever. The fact that this is where she feels underestimated? Not okay.

“Does any of this look like obligation?” she asks, gesturing around the room. She’s tried to keep the footprint minimal, but there are still a few monitors around in case something more mundane happens, still an IV in him in case of very human emergency. “I can’t… I don’t want to lose you.”

If the worst happened, she told herself while trying to improvise, she’d find a way. She always does. But in the midst of all of this she realized she doesn’t want to. The man may be a stubborn sacrificial idiot with communication issues, yes, but even while poisoned and not exactly mentally present he trusted her to pull off something that may or may not count as low-level magic. That’s a hell of a trust fall, and she…

She wonders. And now is not the time for that, but she wants.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” she says after a few moments’ quiet. “Not possible.”

Call it trust issues, call it loneliness, whatever. She is equally good, and she feels that now, as she moves closer. Her attempts at admin detouring will have to do as they are; right now she is preoccupied.

“You don’t… owe me,” he says, and the rest goes unspoken but she is pretty sure he’s mentally promised his life to her. He would.

“I don’t live in that kind of world. I take care of people. I’m good at it. And you needed me, and the kids knew that, and-“

“You shouldn’t have to-“

“I don’t. I want to.”

#pixievixen #chris argent #melissa mccall #chris x melissa #mcargent #ebf writes fic #ebf remains in cute canon endgame rarepair hell

[having-a-hyperfixate]

The Final Day’‘

This is absolutely going to be long and rambley af so I’mma just put a cut here. This is just one massive post for the entire rest of the game.

Rindo is back in the RG somehow. Which makes less than no sense. What was that crazy beam. Shibuya is GONE there isn’t an RG to send him back to, even if someone did want to send him back?

That beam reminded me of the Jesus beams not gonna lie.

But… Fret. Presumably Nagi and Beat too. They’re. Gone. Poor Rindo… That’s the worst kind of gaslighting. Reality itself is gaslighting this poor kid. ‘Your best friend in the world is gone, so gone that no one remembers him. You don’t even get to mourn properly because there is no one TO mourn.’  I am also not okay.

I assume this random talking to us at Hachiko is the dude I saw a brief glimpse of in a screenshot from the final trailer. Hazuki Mikagi, okay. Everything about this is supremely weird. 

Leading this weirdo around and he asked how we feel about emotions? Um, what?

Was he responsible for that beam of light?

This whole thing is extremely unsettling, I don’t think I like it. The music is all… serene, this guy keeps asking existential questions, who even comes up to some kid clearly having a bad day and demands a tour of the city.

He knows Rindo’s name even though we never told him. Not sure if that was a slip or an intentional nudge that Something is going on but there we go.

‘I should take this chance to apologize for Kubo. He’s a real piece of work.’ WHAT. YOU SEND HIM TO SHINJUKU?!?! IS THIS KID GOD!? WHAT!??!

‘Exorcised’. Like a demon. Which is a psychic rank you can get in the first game, and probably this game, ergo, a thing that exists in this universe.

Okay. So this Hazuki guy is Something Else. I dunno if he’s an Angel or higher or WHAT. He’s something. And he “exorcised” what Fuckwad had Fallen to when he decided not to stop at Shinjuku and continue on to Shibuya. But he only did this after Rindo faught so hard to stop it. And then he gave Rindo what he thought Rindo wanted. And now he’s here trying to understand why Rindo is miserable. Which to us, as humans, is obvious: the people he loved, the connections and family he had made through the game are all gone and worse, no one remembers they ever existed.

And now he’s being offered the chance to try again. This feels like a double edged sword. And I don’t care.

Okay I actually kind of appreciate the thing Hazuki is pulling here. He knows what it is that Rindo wants, I’m pretty sure he’s listening to his thoughts, actually, and in order to make Rindo own up to it he’s arguing the ‘no’ position. Giving Rindo someone to argue against so he can convince himself.

WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAPPEN AT UDAGAWA.

Bruh some of these clips were in the announcement trailer.

(I can’t wait to read the secret reports. That’s gonna be a wild ride.)

Oooooh that’s what ‘exorcised’ means. That is hardcore. He definitely deserved it but that is uh. Slightly inconvenient.

Can we actually contact Rhyme this time PLEASE. Oooh Rindo worked out Kaie is waiting for Rhyme. :O I’M FINALLY GONNA GET MY MASSIVE COUNTER OFFENSIVE FUCK YES. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I’M PUMPED LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!

Who’s gonna protect them. Beat. Really. Just give them the damn pins at this point. They both know their ways around a fight and Kaie might need the backup. If we lose, we’re all toast regardless, and if we win everyone gets put back where they belong.

AAAAAAAAAAAH SHE’S HERE!!! RHYME!!!! Aw… She can’t see Neku and Shoka cuz they’re actually dead. That’s really depressing. Makes sense but like. Oof. Especially for Neku.

I love that Rhyme still has a saying for everything.

This timeline is going to be a mess by the time I get everything positioned correctly lmao

Beat’s ‘How do you know about my sister?! Right, future.’ is never going to NOT be funny. It’s very refreshing to have a time travel plot where people just listen when he tells them shit needs to happen.

Is it acutaly Shiki time ohh my god. I might cry. Please tell me she has a face now. If her face is still illegal I will actually scream.

I’m offended. We didn’t get to go see Shiki. The betrayal. OH but now we might be? Stop playing with me, game. GIVE. ME. SHIKI.

Rindo was freaking out that we weren’t gonna be able to get rid of all the Noise around the café and I definitely threw my hands up and yelled when I saw the word ‘zeptogram’. And I read it before he said it, cuz I read v. fast. Nice to see you again, idiot. Please don’t go berserk again.

I am. Very impressed that Minamimoto managed to work out where the Dissonance Noise are coming from, down to the exact energy source that creates them. He nailed it. Well done sir.

I think… he’s proposing we awaken the city and use the energy generated by the thoughts and emotions of the living people to neutralize some of the Dissonance Noise that are waiting in the pin. Erode some of its power.

“How about this: I’ll talk, you type.” Lmao.

I got denied Shiki again. Part of me is annoyed. The other part of me is like ‘are they saving her entrance for when she can see Neku again properly because I can live with that’.

OH the Hishima cutscene is voiced now OKAY. Guess that means this is the one. Rhyme is voiced too. This is gonna be it.

And she speaks Minamioto. Coo.

Huh. Neku’s power is to sync with people. Which he learned to do in the first game. From Mr H, with the harmonizer pin. (Twister is playing and I have Emotions help) And now he’s gonna do it on an absolutely MASSIVE scale. This is insane. I am 1,000% here for it. Sync, Dive, Remind. And if I had to guess, we’re doing this atop 104.

Alright Shiba. ‘Mere. Tsugumi’s eyes aren’t all freaky anymore yay. Oh snap. He’s gonna unleash the Plague Noise against the Dissonance ones. Nice. Turnabout is fair play. I’m kinda sad Fuckwad isn’t here to witness that.

Alright. Change. Our. Fate.

SHIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I gave myself a headache ow.

“07734.” “Ew. Hey! Don’t just spout off numbers and walk away, you jerk!” That was amazing.

FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. NO. NO WAY. I DIDN’T THINK THERE WAS ANY WAY. OH. MY. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. This is the first time Neku’s seen him since Joshua failed to stop Coco from killing him. I’m. A puddle. Help. Neku looked so happy. My cat is slightly concerned haha.

Neku still holds his hands like he’s got the headphones. The same pose as in the first game when you scan. This gives me all the feels.

“They’re just mindless thoughts” Okay so I’m mentally exhausted at this point and I processed that as ‘thots’ and it was hilarious. BEGONE THOTS.

Okay this thing right here? This is a final boss. And it is cool as fuck. Too bad it’s trying to END ME. So cool. SO. COOL. Here comes phase 2 lol. I died and had to redo it. FML.

That. Was awesome. A worthy successor to the epic final strike of the first game. 999% eh?

I continue to not like Shinjuku rules. Once you’re a Reaper, leaving means you get erased once the game ends? Disrespectfully, fuck that. Oh don’t you dare, Shoka. Don’t. You. Dare.

Oh, Joshua is here. PLEASE. Lmao Shoka’s reaction. I’m sure he appreciates that, the drama queen.

*facepalms* Joshua strikes again. I’ve missed you, you little shit. You are terrible, but I missed you. Rindo, I’m pretty sure she’s fine. I think captain helpful over here reincarnated her for you. Since you saved him and his city. I guess I’ll see though.

Uzuki and Kariya continue to be adorable. I love them. And yeah, good luck calling in that debt from Minamimoto, Coco. Gooooood luck.

I’m having a lot of Joshua centered emotions right now there is too much Joshua all at once help. “I should have known I could trust you.” You are killing me dude. You really, really should have. I’m going to turn that line over in my head for way too long, I just know it, but let’s try to get through this before my brain turns off completely. “Let’s not keep her waiting.” OKAY THANKS I’M GONNA CRY AGAIN.

What Hazuki was saying about ‘purifying’ as opposed to ‘destroying’ Shinjuku makes me think that restarting it in some form was always part of the plan, so hopefully they’ll have luck with that. It’s still profoundly fucked up that any of that happened, and even more so that it was sanctioned. I’m. Going to be hung up on that for a while once it sinks in.

This poor idiot hitting on Rhyme is about to get got oh no XD

Shiki is breaking my heart. Aaaaaaaah!!! Reunioooooon.

Ooof it’s been a month since Rindo saw Shoka. Big oof. Joshuaaaaaa.

And then they almost got hit by a car lmao. OMG HE MISSED HER FRIEND REQUESTS AHAHAHAHAH YOU GOOBER. Neku really should have warned them that Joshua is Like That lol. Even when he’s being helpful it’s in the must backhanded way possible.

I would very much like to know why on earth Shinjuku needed to be obliterated though. Like. Does that… Happen often? Maybe the secret reports say.

Speaking of, time to get those, along with the rest of the trophies.

!!!! The title screen updated, NICE. Can’t let anyone who hasn’t beaten it see that but NICE.

There’s another Another Day. Oh boy. I am not ready for that madness yet.

Random thought as I was moving this from word, where I typed it: I’m really, really fucking glad they didn’t decide to deal with Mr H the way they dealt with sleezy mcfuckwad. That would have been… I don’t have a word.

#let's liveblog: neo twewy #w3d7'' #neo twewy spoilers