#I have USED phonebooks in my life

[emperorsfoot]

random: do kids these days know what a phone book is?

[hazelfoureyes]

You asked for it :> Grant me with answers, almighty Hazel, leader of the HDC and saviour of us slutty souls! 24, 37, 56, 78, 100, 113, 133, 142, 148 and 150

I can always count on you to make me feel wanted~ 🥹💖

Give me numbers~

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

My daily Mocha (which is just instant coffee, water, cocoa powder, and chocolate oat milk)

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Whatever fact I recently learned. “Apparently if you’re withdrawing more than 5000usd in China, many banks are making you get police approval. There’s an issue with cash flow that’s really concerning.” “Did you know we have a ghost? I have a video but it’s not very convincing…” “Fun Fact, there is a level of heat where planes can’t fly because the air is too thin for take off. It’s something that’s already happening.”

56. Favourite colour?

The color that makes me happiest to see is green. It reminds me of nature, which reminds me of deep breaths and sunshine and soft breezes.

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP ICE CREAM WITH CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM TO BALANCE IT OUT

100. How are you feeling?

Frau, my first author love and first internet wife, I am so fucking tired haha it is 2:36 am, I am waiting for laundry to finish that I have to hang up, and I have to be awake at 7:30am.

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Melmizer--- my first name starts with Mel and the mizer is for Miser (a person who hoards wealth and spends as little money as possible). I had (past tense) a knack for selling anything to anyone. I once sold phonebooks that were actually free to take and made 15$ selling two lmao. Admittedly, I was very cute. Oh, and as a child I worked for the office by picking up trash and doing filing. But that’s illegal so instead I was paid in candy and was allowed to exchange the candy for money! I normally kept the candy cuz I was like 10, and I started a cleaning business with my friends when I was like 9 haha oooh and I made needlepoint plastic canvas necklaces in Elementary and took commissions from other kids for $10 a piece. My father raised me to be very business minded, but I did hoard my little money hehehe

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

142. Favourite month?

....oh geez...November. It's cozy. Right between two big holidays but not too busy. Feels full of hope.

148. What’s your favourite quote?

No matter how high and dry the mountaintop, no matter how modern and secluded the retreat, we sweat and cry what is basically sea water. - The Ghost Map but the quote is by evolutionary biologist Lynn Margulis. While this quote is about how cholera kills through dehyrdation and affected everyone from all walks of life because of this common need for water, I love it because it reminds me that no matter how we live our lives we all are from the oceans. We all have the same beginning, no matter how different we are now. I have part of it tattooed on my arm as a reminder to myself to be kind and patient. It's also a reminder we carry the sea in our bodies still, which I think is a beautiful thing. We never are far from home.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

[castlebyersafterdark]

ok here are two off the top of my head

this one analyze the moments finn talks about noah which imo just make me 👀😍

https://youtu.be/qgXPO2r8uZU?si=xbEueZAPSF4_F4t8

then this one the foah moment starting at 1:05 with them when finn is having his anxiety

https://youtu.be/TwF2PvdpyQo?si=_RGOPNgFAJVGomWP

CLIP ONE Ok, starting off strong. This is one of the top cast clips imo. I love Noah's insistence that he's not wholesome followed by an onslaught of people saying he is HA that's funny. Show us more of your really un-wholesome side, babes. We've seen it a little now. Teased it. Let go a little more. Your captive audience is begging for it. Also also I can listen to him read the damn phonebook. Noah has theee most soothing voice. I'm still obsessed. I wonder how aware this boy is of his gay audience, to be honest? He's gotta be aware of the effect he has on guys. He has to know. There's a whole other side we're not getting and I for one am curious as hell.

Finn's impressions of him, though. They're so accurate! "He's just the nicest person in the world." FINNN. Yeah this one is interesting. Overused word but ENDEARING. Wait wait I forgot how fucking hysterical this interview is - Eduardo as Noah "Oh, it's a life or death situation. Let's go get on a private jet and fly somewhere else!" And Charlie's "God it's so annoying that you have to die right now. Ugh!!" STOPPP - which is what made Finn laugh like this. Boy. Again, funny, but not that funny? He's laughing like he finds everything about the boy he likes hysterical. Or, devil's advocate - it's the fact that Eduardo and Charlie are yet more older man of which is Finn's kryptonite, always acting up and laughing harder just because he LIVES to impress and humor men. Either way. 👀

Just look at him. He was wheeeezing over that bit. Oooh then the poker story. Great moment. Finn, Finn, Finn. "What did he say!? He said something sooo funny." Do you remember word for word what my good buddy Noah said, do you remember, did you memorize everything he's done in our presence like I have? And the other two "Uhh... yeah..." Clearly Noah is someone sooo special to him, love this. Oh, to be a fly on the wall.

Noah better be with Finn and the other guys and anyone else because... someone else just isn't as fun in these interviews! Need him to cut loose and get weird and be silly and gives us the energy. Not giving with hmm. Be nice be nice be nice.

CLIP TWO Oh, the babies! Red carpets are honestly probably the hardest to get through I just want to crawl and hide in the same way baby Finn probably wanted to crawl and hide. He makes me so sad here. Clearly going through it. His nerves 🥲 He's so bouncy and fidgety and oooh it's rough. It's a little rough to watch. And then Noah saves him a bit. Sweet. And then Noah clocks it more and just, keeps trying for eye contact. He knows, and I feel like he so much wanted to slip behind Millie and console him - but how sweet when Caleb sees it, too? This group is so special. Then the very intense eye contact between Finn and Noah? Woah. It really seemed to center Finn a little.

Now, I don't even necessarily read it as romantic (but who's to say that little teenage crushes are impossible at this time) but it's more to me, showcasing this truth in front of us about the place they have now and have had in each other's lives. There for each other. They've probably helped each other out with a lot, down from the edge, a source of comfort and companionship. Beyond the romance chatter and all we love here - this is why Noah calls him a "special person" and the same with him to Finn. There's a connection there, whatever it really means. And it's cool we've gotten to witness something like this. There's a lot of negativity and contention in the industry. I think that's what part of why this group has been so compelling to observe over the years. It's a bit more authentic and real, the intertwining relationships.

Gosh, the longer I watched the clip though - the deeper I pulled my sweater over my face. Too recognizable. Seeing a kid who's both excitable and also in the depths of excruciating anxiety? Looked like a mirror. Wanted to close my eyes.

[gothyanki]

@ardentkurashk tagged me in this meme forever ago (thank you!! <3) Now it is time. Lots of yelling about Vin'ath inbound.

Name: Vin'ath

Age: 31

Race: Githyanki

Class: Paladin (Oath of Vengeance).

Alignment: Trying their hardest to be a Lawful Good True Storybook Knight while also following vengeance oath tenets to the letter. This… does not always work out well.

Deity: Having been raised in a cult, Vin is deeply and understandably suspicious of all gods. They’ve dedicated their life to their oath instead, which is totally different.

Favourite spells: Shield of Faith for practicality; Colour Spray for aesthetics. They also love smiting. Divine Smite is their fave, although they couldn’t tell you why it’s the most satisfying.

Armour (Act 1): Scale Mail of Vengeance.

Armour (Act 2): Adamantine Splint Armour.

Armour (Act 3): Still Adamantine Splint Armour! High paladin fashion.

Favourite dye: Baby blue and gold. They flat-out refused to dye their gear at all until they got to Rivington, where they grudgingly agreed to try it out. The description points to a much more militaristic meaning, but to Vin those colours have come to symbolise the sun and sky over the world they love.

(I have a LOT of feelings about the default vengeance paladin colour scheme in light of “I see only blood-red and death-black”. Vin hasn’t drifted as far from their upbringing as they’d like to think.)

Weapon (Act 1): Monster Slayer Glaive (+ anything else they could grab that looked useful).

Weapon (Act 2): Soulbreaker Greatsword.

Weapon (Act 3): Silver Sword of the Astral Plane. Sorry, Lae'zel - it's just too perfect for a githyanki paladin. (In my headcanon, Lae does end up getting it after some token face-saving resistance from Vin. They’re not comfortable with the idea of wielding a silver sword and don't really want to give up the Soulbreaker - they've still got a lot of complicated feelings about the way they won it and they feel responsible for all those whispering souls.)

Buffs: Ooh, it’s been a while - I’d have to load up the game to see what they’ve got on. Githborn Psionic Weapon? Wielding the Soulbreaker Greatsword feels so right to them (ditto for Voss' silver sword, in the very brief space of time they had it); they’ve thoroughly compartmentalised that feeling so they don’t have to think about Why.

Main love interest: Karlach. It was a bit of a rough road to get there (the touch issue might have been the least of their problems), but now they’re an unstoppable team. To hell first, then onward to the stars!

Favourite NPC(s): Vin’s got a huge soft spot for the tiefling kids, especially Mol. (They’re very protective of children in general, for reasons they won’t admit have anything to do with their own upbringing.) Meeting Varrl and Varsh Ko’kuu gave them some hope in a difficult time, even though the circumstances were painful. They also greatly admire Dame Aylin and Isobel… and kind of see them as #relationshipgoals.

…and then there’s Kith'rak Voss. Yeah, that’s a complicated one.

Favourite enemy: Kith'rak Therezzyn and Inquisitor W'wargasm W'wargaz. There was a LOT of emotional fallout after the adrenaline crash, but for a while there they were riding the high of having faced down two terrifying childhood authority figures and lived (not to mention the staring contest with Vlaakith herself…)

Favourite battle: Gortash. That one was very personal - vengeance paladin mode on full display. (The conversation after it was… significantly harder for them to deal with.) Rescuing Halsin from Orin & co. was a close second - they were just so relieved they’d got there in time.

Favourite dialogue: Is “every single dialogue involving Karlach” cheating? Not just the overtly flirty/romantic ones - Vin would happily listen to her read the Faerûnian phonebook.

Aside from that, they got so much vicarious joy out of hearing Lae'zel reject Vlaakith - they don’t tend to show much emotion, but they may have done a little fist pump at “she has sinned against me!” Also, the conversation where Wyll opened up about the circumstances of his exile - Vin felt very honoured that he trusted them enough to let them see beyond the Blade of Frontiers persona, and it led them to drop their Perfect Paladin walls a little in return.

Decision about the Absolute: Red laser destroy destroy destroy + the Crown returns to Mystra. Unlike Lykos, Vin'ath isn’t tentacle-curious.

I tag anyone who hasn’t already done this (see: forever ago) and wants to!

[crmsnmth]

Cursive

You spoke your words in cursive They curved and looped in graceful handwriting And by god, it was beautiful whenever you chose to speak to me I could listen to you read the phonebook and stay attentive from A to the yellow pages But at that point I'll have to kiss you Temptation is such a weird mistress

You had feathers in your touch soft like down, let me use you as a pillow your fingers in my hair as you tell me about your day and I went move, stroke my head Let me be your dog And I swear to you, I'll be so goddamn loyal You'll never learn what my back looks like

Footsteps tapping outside my bedroom door Life moves fast, but right here I think we're frozen in time Of course, that's what we call wishful thinking because time is never frozen Marching forward to the ultimate universal Inside my room, the scent of watermelon candy in the air

I close my eyes as I listen to you speak I don't want to lift my head for this So just keep on speaking your words in loops and lines How you pulled it off, I guess I'll never know how to speak in cursive

[thehamletdiaries]

My story with this ridiculous, beautiful, endless play that many would say is the greatest ever written

I first saw Hamlet when I was either eight or nine years old. It was the RSC production with Samuel West as Hamlet, which had transferred from Stratford Upon Avon to London. It was a full length production, with two intervals…and I went into it genuinely not knowing the plot. I’d seen enough Shakespeare to understand what a tragedy was and therefore to know the whole thing was unlikely to end well, but beyond that I had no idea what I was walking into.

And…I enjoyed it. I thought it was a very good play; I found it very funny except for all the parts where it wasn’t; I thought the plot was dynamic and interesting - but at that time and at that point in my life it didn’t capture my heart the way Twelfth Night or The Tempest or Comedy of Errors did.

But even then, there was Horatio. Aside from Hamlet playing three blind mice on the pipe he tries to get Guildenstern to play, my strongest memory from that production was Horatio (that said, I did still have to look up the name of the actor who played him whilst writing this and apparently it was an actor called John Dougall, who was in Girl on the Train and two episodes of The Walking Dead and I now feel I owe some sort of life debt and need to keep an eye on his career going forward to support him in whatever ways I can).

I was too young then to really be able to remember now why Horatio captured my imagination in the way he did - I have at times sat down and tried to rationalise it (“he was the person who found himself in the middle of an adventure he had no place in and I loved that kind of story”, “his loyalty was something I was drawn to as a lonely child”) but the truth is I just don’t know, and the most I can really come back to is this; I think at around eight years old, I loved Horatio for the same reasons that I love him now - because he is a person deeply worthy of love.

And then, like most children, I forgot about it and moved on to the next thing - and then when I was eleven, my school had one of those “theatre groups who do workshops with kids” come in and they did this workshopped version of Hamlet with us (which, with hindsight, seems like an interesting choice of Shakespeare play for a bunch of young children, but anyway) and if I remember correctly all the characters were played by a handful of children that they picked out and directed around, whilst the rest of the children formed a chorus. And I was picked to play Horatio. 

The way you remember experiences at eleven are of course not the way they actually were; but to my mind this particular experience was magical and special and vital and just such an immersive experience - where I lived this story alongside Horatio and I think for the first time started to sort of understand and care about Hamlet too.

But then time moved on and like most children do I again forgot about it and moved on to the next thing.

And then when I was fifteen, David Tennant took the role of Hamlet at the RSC. This was the first theatre role he had done since being in Doctor Who - a show I had loved since it’s revival with Chistopher Eccelston but which had taken root in my heart with the arrival of the Tenth Doctor - and of course I wanted to see Tennant live. He could have read the phonebook and I’d have wanted to be there.

Being fifteen, I was still just about young enough that my mother had to come with me, and also being fifteen I didn’t really have my own money to make my own way; so all of these logistics had to be organised in negotiation with my parents. Stratford Upon Avon - a place I went to recently that really isn’t that far from London, it turns out - felt very far away - and an overnight trip to go to the theatre felt remarkably decadent. 

So, we went, and two important things came out of seeing that production for me. Three if you count the lifelong obsession with Hamlet that followed. Firstly, I really got Hamlet, for the first time. To this day, whatever my evolving thoughts on that production more broadly, Tennant is still my favourite actor to have played the Prince of Denmark. The frenetic energy of a truly broken person was just…well, I sort of hate to say it was relatable but it was relatable but it was so much more than that. Hamlet was so much more than that.

And then we got to the end. And I watched him die in Horatio’s arms. And my reaction was essentially, “oh”. Because then that’s when it clicked with me; Horatio and Hamlet were in love. And my brain in that moment essentially did a little rewind of the entire play with that knowledge in mind.

I went to revisit the play almost immediately and this was my first time actually exploring the text and it was just…everything. Seeing this much wider story through the lense of following these two boys, Horatio and Hamlet, who I had now fallen so deeply in love with, opened up to me the wider world of the play and the story; the politics, the supernatural, the religious backdrop, the treatement of women, all of the other characters, the people of Denmark who were ultimately victims of this entire situation - all of it.

I read commentary and fanfiction (and the rather excellent Manga comic version) and I learnt to understand Hamlet more and more deeply for everything he went through (and, wow, did I learn to hate his dad…); and his love for Horatio and Horatio’s love for him was just deeply beautiful and tragic and heartbreaking and that relationship took its place in my heart’s core.

I watched as many movie versions as I could manage to get my hands on (on DVDs because this was back in the day) and never really found one I loved and found quite a few I actively disliked - but that felt like part of it; the fact that I could never find the “perfect” version of this play made me just want to keep going and explore more and deeper - to understand the many ways so much of it could be interpreted and which interpretations spoke to me, which didn’t, which I thought were textual and which I didn’t; it unearthed a whole world to me as a teenager.

Throughout the years, I’ve seen it on stage as much as I could. I’ve seen Michael Sheen, Maxine Peek, Andrew Scott, I’ve seen various adaptations at the Edinburgh Fringe, I’ve seen Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead twice - and I’ve also missed loads of productions I didn’t realise were happening near me or just was unable to get to.

I took myself to Elsinore for my 24th birthday, back in 2017, and wandered round the castle imagining my boys there.

I found myself falling in love with Ophelia as my growing understanding of feminism and my lived experiences as a woman gave me a deeper understanding of her and empathy for her; both as a woman who is far smarter than she is ever given credit for and ultimately a victim of men who treat her horribly in just so many ways.

I thought a lot about Fortinbras - as a history nerd and eventually someone who found herself working in politics, this element of the play was hugely important and deeply fascinating to me.

I reread the play at least once a year.

I’m thirty now and a lot has not changed, but Hamlet still lives within me as much as it ever has.

But I also have more questions now - characters I saw as quite simply as “bad guys”, Claudius and Gertrude, now seem more complex to me, and there is so much more I want to explore about them.

Hamlet, for me, has also been part of my long list of unfinished projects; things I wanted to write, to study, to create - from an online social deduction game that I planned but never ran to my His Dark Materials/Hamlet crossover fanfiction which still sits on AO3 unfinished; it’s been with me for so many things I haven’t done.

Recently, I went on a rather wonderful trip to Stratford Upon Avon. I saw the Hamlet statue and the rather amazing Ophelia statue in the garden of Anne Hathaway’s cottage. I bought a bunch of books on Hamlet. I bought the First Quarto version, which somehow I have never read. I watched the play adaptation of the book Hamnet, which ends with Hamlet being performed.

I started this blog, the Hamlet Diaries, which I’ve wanted to start since I was fifteen (and it was called the Hamlet Diaries, in my mind, even then).

I took an online class on Hamlet’s Ghost and have more classes I want to take. 

I started working on a new Hamlet fanfiction series, and I still plan to finish the His Dark Materials/Hamlet crossover. 

I joined a Hamlet discord server. 

I found new songs that remind me of the play (although Leave Out All The Rest, my Hamlet song from that first year of discovering the play, will always be, I think, my ultimate Hamlet song).

I went to a wonderful, life affirming writers retreat where I worked on my Hamlet fanfiction and had the validity of that as a project affirmed by so many wonderful writers.

This play has been with me for so long, but this last year it feels like it has taken on yet another new life for me and I want to really start creating all the Hamlet related things I have always wanted to create.

Being very into Hamlet is often a rather sad thing to be into, for obvious reasons. I think you really do have to like having your heart broken, at least a little bit.

But then there’s Horatio telling Hamlet that he really should have made his play rhyme, and I have everywhere this play has taken me and everywhere it will take me in future, and I remember the joy in it too.

[rockyroadkylers]

Fic Masterpost and Blog Navigation

This is the masterpost for my RWRB fics! I have a pinned post like this on my other blog for my MCU fics, and I wanted one for my newer stuff, so here we go! I'm making it unrebloggable for easy editing purposes, but you're welcome to interact in other ways!

At the bottom of the post there will be a list of the tags I use to tag my WIP Wednesday and Seven Sentence Sunday posts, as well as random posts that I make where I'm just talking about the fics I'm writing, so that you can look through the tags for individual fics and get a glimpse of the behind-the-scenes process!

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Posted Fics

It's Nice to Have a Friend

T | 59,187 words | 11 chapters | Complete Childhood Friends to Lovers | Epistolary | Hurt/Comfort | Fluff Posted Sept. 30 — Oct. 24, 2023

Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.

After Everything, I Must Confess I Need You

T | 5,821 words | Complete Breaking Up & Making Up | Whump | Hurt/Comfort | Car Accidents | Happy Ending Posted Nov. 26, 2023

When Alex dares Henry to tell him to leave, Henry actually does. Neither of them could have predicted what happens next.

passing notes in secrecy (i was enchanted to meet you)

G | 10,288 words | Complete High School AU | Epistolary | Tooth-Rotting Fluff | Friends to Lovers Posted February 21, 2024

Five times Henry and Alex passed notes to communicate, plus one time they talked out loud.

You Wanting Me (Tonight Feels Impossible)

M | 5,458 words | Complete Jealousy | First Kiss | Miscommunications | Getting Together Posted Sept. 16, 2024

Alex devises a plan to make Henry jealous at the New Year's Eve party. Minor miscommunications occur. (Part 1 of the New Year's Day Duology)

Like Flowers In The Springtime, Every Day Is Valentine’s (That’s What Your Love’s Like)

M | 21,773 words | Complete Post-Canon | Fluff | Flowers | Gift-Giving | 6+1 Things Posted Oct. 4, 2024

Henry discovers that his boyfriend loves flowers, but has never received a bouquet as a gift, so he makes it his life's mission to rectify this clearly grievous oversight.

New Year's Day (You and Me, Forevermore)

M | 8,222 words | Complete Fluff | The Morning After | Non-Sexual Intimacy | Communication Posted Nov. 16, 2024

Alex and Henry get to wake up in each other's arms on New Year's Day and spend the morning basking in the afterglow. (Part 2 of the New Year's Day Duology)

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WIP Oneshots

Like Paris After Midnight, Dancing in the Moonlight

Post-Canon | Fluff | Romance | Holiday/Vacation (outlining stage)

The Paris trip outtake from the flower fic

This Could Either Break My Heart or Bring it Back to Life

Alternate Universe - Non-Famous | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Friends to Lovers | Mutual Pining (writing stage)

Alex's date stands him up. Henry takes him out instead.

he's like a poem i wish i wrote (i think i'm in love)

Alternate Universe - College/University | FWB to Lovers | Prince Henry/Non-Famous Alex (writing stage)

Inspired by this art: Alex may be Henry's last Oxford boy... but he's the first one that matters.

why'd you whisper in the dark (just to leave me in the night?)

Canon Divergence | A/B/O Dynamics | Whump | Hurt/Comfort (writing stage)

When Henry runs away from the lake house, Alex develops a nasty case of Rejection Sickness.

currently untitled WIP

Pre-Canon | A/B/O Dynamics | Whump | Hurt/Comfort | Family Feels (writing stage)

Henry running away from the lake house wasn't the first event in Alex's life that's given him Rejection Sickness. (this is a prequel to the previous fic)

Hotline Bling

Alternate Universe - College/University | Sex Worker Henry | Student Alex | Phone Hotlines (outlining stage)

Struggling college student Alex accidentally mixes up the numbers in a phonebook and calls a sex hotline instead of a mental health hotline, but he gets directed to Henry's line, so it all somehow works out okay in the end.

Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home

Alternate Universe - Non-Famous | Writer Henry | Model Alex (outlining stage)

Henry is a writer living in Paris who falls a little bit parasocially in love with the model in an advertisement that he walks past on his daily route.

Subcategory: Holiday WIPs

I Don't Need a Christmas Tree (All I Need is You Next to Me)

Post-Canon | Hurt/Comfort (emphasis on comfort) | Recovery from Illness | Holidays (writing stage)

Alex's recovery from appendicitis in the flower fic

Faithful Friends Who Are Dear to Us

Pre-Canon/Canon Divergence | Grief/Mourning | Family Feels | Childhood Friends | POV Arthur Fox (outlining stage)

Set between chapters 8 and 9 of It's Nice to Have a Friend, Arthur takes his family to Llwynywermod for Christmas after his diagnosis. He takes a quiet moment to chat with Alex while Henry is preoccupied with holiday fanfare.

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Chaptered WIPs

Baby, You're Never Alone

Canon Retelling | Kid Fic | Hurt/Comfort | Family Feels | Fluff (writing stage)

How would canon be different if Alex was a single parent?

i picked the petals, he loves me not

Canon Retelling | Hanahaki Disease | Whump | Angst | Hurt/Comfort (writing stage)

Alex contracts Hanahaki Disease after Henry rejects him at the Rio Olympics.

All's Well that Ends Well to End Up With You

Pre-Canon/Canon Divergence | Childhood Friends to Lovers | Epistolary | Fluff and Angst (outlining stage)

A sequel to my very first fic, It's Nice To Have A Friend, picking up immediately where chapter 10 leaves off and taking Alex and Henry through the next year and a half of their lives — school, therapy, coming out, and learning how to be international icons when all they really want to be is themselves.

(keep reading for blog nav tags)

Blog Navigation

A list of my individual fic tags! Some will have more posts than other depending on how long each fic took me to write and how many posts I made during the writing process.

It's Nice to Have a Friend 'Verse — the tag for my OG childhood friends AU, the one that started it all, if you will, including the sequel that's currently in the outlining stage of the writing process!

Kensington Divergence Fic — the tag for After Everything, I Must Confess I Need You

Passing Notes Fic — the tag for passing notes in secrecy (i was enchanted to meet you)

Flower Fic — the tag for Like Flowers In The Springtime, Every Day Is Valentine's (That's What Your Love's Like), as well as the WIP additions/timestamp fics I have planned for the same 'verse

New Year's Duology — the tag for my two-part oneshot series, I Want Your Midnights (The New Year's Day Duology)

Loverboy Henry — a WIP tag for This Could Either Break My Heart or Bring it Back to Life

Oxford Boys — a WIP tag for he's like a poem i wish i wrote (i think i'm in love)

Dad Alex AU — a WIP tag for Baby, You're Never Alone

Hanahaki AU — a WIP tag for i picked the petals, he loves me not

Hotline Bling — a WIP tag for Hotline Bling

Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home — a WIP tag for You Eyes Look Like Coming Home

In Between The Lines — a WIP tag for a Psych AU that will honestly probably never see the light of day because I'm awful at writing mystery stories 😂 but it's got a Tumblr post, so it's got its own tag.

[simsionic]

Disclaimer! A few technical difficulties in this first attempt with low sound and wonky cursor. I switched recording software and fixed it in the next video featuring Goth family drama.

Pleasantview part 1: Don Lothario

The first sim I played was this casanova. One playable in the household was thankfully easy to manage for me who hasn't played live mode in years.

I did stumble over Bella Goth in the phonebook but later found out she had been restored thanks to the clean templates I use.

My conclusion of a day in the life of Don is that he is one step closer to his lifetime want. He enjoyed woohoo with the sisters and might be having second thoughts on his future wedding to Cassandra.

[newpotatomash]

It's so fucking ironic when little shits start pelting the comment section in fics that are clearly tagged with "pedophilia" and "dead dove do not eat" and similar words.

Long fucking rant under the cut-

What is it with these people and being unable to just fucking click the back button? It isn't even my fanfiction, but these people just scream everything between "Go to therapy" and "kill yourself" as if they actually wish for people to deal with whatever might cause an issue in their life??? They fucking don't. They just want to scream at strangers to die while they write "UwU dead dove do not eat" fanfics themselves that include murder and violent fantasies of a fictional character.

But it's fine when they do it because nobody involved is underage as if that makes their stupid fucking rules about thought-crimes any less violent.

Why is it always the same people who insist they love dark media?? Either you're fine with MADE UP ACTS or you're not. You can't just fucking pick and choose and decide that you're the authority of "acceptable" violence that someone thought up in their heads.

I am extremely fickle when it comes to media that involves vaginal sex, and that is my responsibility to curate, which is why I fucking??? Don't??? Walk right into a fanfic that's been tagged with those exact tags and blame the author.

I saw someone going something like, "No sane person would read this. I can only imagine a very impressionable child stumbled upon it and saw it, which breaks my heart ngl"

IF AN IMPRESSIONABLE CHILD STARTS TICKING BOXES FOR A VERY SPECIFIC TYPE OF FANFIC, AND THEY THEN PROCEED TO READ IT, HOW THE HELL IS THAT THE AUTHORS FAULT. we're one goddamn step away from blaming murder on video games here.

These fucking people think that wishing death upon others for writing a piece of fiction is any better than a 14 year old reading said piece of fiction and going, "Whoa. Weird." And then leaving the website because they realized that pretending to be 18+ was a bad idea.

I am in awe over the internet.

The amount of times I see the word "degenerate" on a day is completely bonkers and I wish sites weren't so fucking scared of porn. We're just competing in some fucked up moral olympics and nobody is winning except the advertisers who cry snot at a site allowing 18+ content. I love ao3 so much.

I hate that if I wish to post smutty drawings I have to use twitter? I won't suddenly start using a site like furaffinity when I don't draw anything that would count as furry.

I hate the internet for taking away the immeasurable joy it is to bond with people who just want to play dolls (write fanfics or draw fanart, make oc stuff, all that) with me. I've met some of my best friends online that I've sent and received gifts from over the span of 5, 10, 15 years.

I remember writing an abundance of shotacon fics, and knowing it was an acquired taste, but never seeing the kind of moral-policing we have now. (I know it existed. Of course) Hell, I remember people just saying that Enzai was an amazing anime because to them, it was a given that a yaoi anime would include kids and rape and false imprisonment?? It was the fucking wild west and it's like people saw this and went "Hey... We should start tagging things."

But instead of continuing to have fun with their fictional writings and tagging topics in the stories, we just escalated into "We have a pedophilia tag but people will wish death upon you."

How do these people survive in day-to-day life in actual conversation? Do they start arguing and calling a 15 year old who has a crush on their 14 year old friend a pedophile? Do they start berating young women because they named their boyfriend "daddy" in their phonebook? Why are they like this???

I miss fanfiction.net and livejournal so much when the biggest concern was figuring out what topic I'd discuss while I pretended to speak to characters from Yugioh and yelling "I don't own any of these characters". I miss it so much. It made my life better. I found community, I made friends. I wonder what kind of friends people nowadays will make 15 years from now.

Shout out to my buddies from ffnet who are still following me because you know exactly who you are

[kidnickgames]

KID NICK UPDATE I have recently been pretty silent about my games, both new and existing, even though my life has been substantially less busy over the last few months. I feel like I've been neglecting being "in the TTRPG community" to the small extent I already was, but I'm also happier and saner than I was when I was regularly checking in and occasionally commenting on TTRPG Twitter. Which is a trade-off I'll make any day!

NEW GAMES

I know it's an internet creator cliche, but I have several WIPs that I'm really excited about, and they're all at different levels of completion. It's Time is a GM-led dungeon crawl through an infinitely tall tower. It's my first game that really feels like it's about something and it's designed to make you feel certain ways and it's basically done save for some actual dungeon content. That'll probably stay as a digital-only game but should release soon! Card Hearts is a GM-led card-batting TTRPG set in a world where all conflict is resolved through trading card game battles. Players use playing card decks with cards that awaken into powerful unique trading cards at moments of tension and desperation. I've designed the card battling game, all ~200 cards for it, and have a framework of the rules, but I want this game to have stellar art and it's going to require a lot of it. Expect an artless "demo" version of this sometime in the next few months, maybe? It's the project I'm most excited about but it's daunting.

You Teach Me is a GM-less game for 2 players exploring the power dynamics and odd friendship of a trademark-agnostic master tamer and their battling monster. One player is the tamer, a human who issues battle commands to their best friend. The other player is the intelligent but speechless monster, who does the battling and receives that injuries but isn't the one who calls the shots. I have the framework for this one but need to fill it in- it'll incorporate some co-op strategy, as well. I'd like to have a physical release of this. Finally, while I do have other TTRPG projects that with some level of development behind them, I'm also working on a video game with a friend. It's in super early stages, but it is taking up a big chunk of my time. More on that to come, hopefully? EXISTING GAMES Did you know I put out a new game earlier this year? Probably not, because I put it out under a pen name for brand and vulnerability reasons. Well, to hell with that; please go check out Tabletop Foreplaying Game! Hometown Holiday and The NPC Phonebook are both available as physical zines through Indie Press Revolution! If you're going to Gen Con (like me! I'll be there!), you can go to the IPR booth and buy Hometown Holiday in person! And finally, all my games are available digitally, including the tumblr post-inspired, played-in-Smash-Bros TTRPG smallroom shorttimer bigquestions ultimate and the free Gawrsh Quest! Fun fact about Gawrsh Quest- I met Bill Farmer, voice of Goofy, at Gen Con last year and told him I made a horror game where everyone is a different version of Goofy. He seemed legitimately delighted to hear about it! STREAMING

Idk I miss streaming but my internet has just gotten worse and worse and it just hasn't been sustainable. Maybe one day soon I'll try again.

Thanks for reading this life and project update! Do me a favor and hold me to this- let me know if any of these projects excite you!

[victorywithremy]

The Confession | Adam vs Remy

"I've been lying."

Remy said simply as he folded his arms over his chest and gazed at some of the assembled demigods before him. He wasn't entirely sure what the reaction would be for some of them- he could see there was some sort of recognition in Atticus and Oliver's eyes, which he wasn't entirely surprised about. Oliver had seen his name tag when he'd come back from the underworld and Atticus was too smart not to least see through some of his lies. A few of the others looked a little more confused, he could see Gabe and Ale furrowing their brows slightly as they peered over at him. As he took a little breath. There was a decent argument he could have made about not telling them- that his experience in...whatever that strange world was with his old dorm room and that figure with the ever-changing face could have been kept to himself. And that his own understanding of his past was enough that he could have left it behind without anyone ever knowing about it.

But was that being fair to the people in this room? The people who'd thrown down their lives to save him or the ones who had shared his bed more than once?

"do you need to be a lie to them to be you, or are you ready to be your most honest truth?"

Those words danced around in his head as he flicked his eyes from Atticus to Oliver, to Romeo and Silas, Rio, Jay and Gabe. Face after face as he felt that tongue still of a moment- even with a sense of peace about his past, it still felt almost unnatural to talk about it. To shatter that web of lies he'd so carefully perfected.

"Not about being a lawyer- nor our experience at the school. I earned both of those things." He said as he nodded towards Atticus because- well, he'd still earned his degree. Just under more...shady circumstances. "I was born Adam Hopkins or...at least it's the best name I could come up with. Pretty sure I just picked the name from two random names in a phonebook once upon a time- " Remy paused because that felt like it was getting somewhat off track. " All I really remember if I think back enough..the smell of burnt ash and just- well, then it's just what my life was beyond that. I slipped through the cracks- I lived on the streets- I...made my way through life the best way I could. I used to change names like someone changed suits. James. Jack. Alexander. Adam. Eric... till I saw a chance to change my life. Though looking back on it I might have had a little bit of help with a few of my bigger lies I've said. From... well.." Remy waved his hand towards the temple. His intention was pretty clear. Nike, his mother, had turned the knife edge of some of his words towards his favor.

"I somehow convinced one of the best schools in the country that a student. That my parents were in the south of France and couldn't be contacted- hell, that any record of me was lost by some foolish administration. That Remy Warren was far too rich to deal with such things. Honestly- at the time I thought It was just such a bold lie big enough that no one would ever question it.- well, who'd try to lie to get into a school like that? Which in retrospect has me left feeling a little foolish From there I used my..skills and my connections, my actual talent to find myself in Oxford. And that's where I made Remy Warren proper- I invented tiny details- every lie became easier and easier. I perfected my accent. I-...

Became exactly who I wanted to be. The man you know. I'm not telling you this to gain some sort of sympathy or shock value. Or to undermine what I have with you. I'm telling you this because I want to be honest with you. I want you to see the scars and know the truth of me. I have cared for people before now and pushed them away when they found that truth.

I am hoping that my name doesn't matter to you- that each of you might know the person I am regardless of my past and those...tiny lies I've told some of you. Or at the very least that you'd be willing to understand some of it.

The core of who I am? The Remy you know hasn't changed. The man who shared your bed. Or fought beside you- it's still me.

I'm still Remy. It's who I made myself and it's who I am. It's the name I've chosen."

Remy let those words settle as he stared out at the group of demi-gods in front of him.

It somehow felt like a weight was on his chest and yet- one have lifted all at the same time.

"That's...what I wanted to say."

@athenianwit, @riointhedark, @raging-ale, @hearthwxrmth, @highfunctioningalcoholic

@hvrricaneromeo @sweatforged @bornatnightt @child-of-demeter

[gatefleet]

Prompt List (1)

Pronouns can be changed/removed

He was going back to a place he'd hoped he would never see again

She had found something that would mean she'd never be poor again - but there was a catch

As the policeman pulled back the sheet, she knew immediately that

He looked at his phone, turned pale, then quickly left the room. She watched him, smiling.

That summer seemed to last forever

The whole family had been cursed since

When her father was drunk, he'd say 'I used to have a brother, you know', and get a faraway look in his eyes

Half the names on the list had already been crossed off.

The old photos made her conscious of her age, of how much time had passed - and of what an interesting life she'd had.

Why had no-one ever mentioned Mum's twin?

The door was closed, and as I put my hand on the handle, I felt afraid of what we might find

As he took in the view from the twentieth floor, the lights went out all over the city

The old house, with its wildly overgrown garden, was silent, secretive

The victim had tried to write something as he was dying

Outside the cabin, the wind howled through the trees, while inside, the old woman's fire was nearly out.

They had to make sure that none of their colleagues noticed

There was something not quite right about the window.

Only the very oldest people remembered a time when humans could see in colour

The characters visit the beach and hijinks ensue.

Camping was just the beginning

A major holiday comes along and hijinks ensue.

Even after all this time she still referred to it as “thirteen o’clock”

The celebrations started as they fell into the pool

The hat was never going to be a good idea

He was pleased to see her but that bulge was in his jacket pocket.

From his sleeping pattern, he appeared jetlagged but he was just sleepy

He was the cleverest person I had met, but he seemed to be malfunctioning in some way

Spending time with all these people was such fun. It only remained to decide which I would kill.

After the incident with the otters was resolved I felt a lot better.

I was sad to see in the phonebook that he still existed    

He was impervious to her abuse. Until she mentioned the dry roasted peanuts.

We had to do something immediately. Or as soon after we had finished our deserts as was humanly possible.

Respect? Respect this...

I had never seen one as big as that before…

He wasn't an aberration but he was certainly abnormal.

It was the finest meal she had ever tasted. If only she had known what was in it.

She had overestimated him, a different approach was needed, one with childlike simplicity.

Their ebullient spirits were possibly a result of medication that was not over-the-counter.

Stuck in a glass elevator with a mime. Again.

It was amazing how well flattery worked. Even though I only knew ten words of French.

Although elderly there was still a good chance he would beat you in a fight          

[skania]

i get losing interest in the free series after utsumi left because its the same for me. S3 was just shit and the writers didn't care about writing a story, just wanted a way to force every character to have a role in the series and neglected the main characters. high speed was eh but i enjoyed my RH angst. the movies had potential but execution wasn't good. i enjoyed my RH moments but i know utsumi would've made those moments even better. its a shame since i dont care about her new series SK8.

This is more or less how I feel too, and I feel terrible for saying it because I've been trying to keep it to myself all these years 😭 But I think it's time to let it all out.

I think the current Free! stopped working for me because when I watch it, I don't find in it the same heart that blindsided me when I watched S1. And it's funny you mention SK8, because I don't care for it either, but a friend forced me to watch it, and it had heart. By the time I was done watching it, I couldn't help but feel sad. Because you're right anon, Utsumi would've taken Rin and Haru so, so much further if only she kept working on Free!

I know Utsumi had her issues, the biggest one (for me) being how neatly separated she kept the Samezuka and Iwatobi storylines until it was time for the RH climax. Which was kind of ridiculous because they lived in a small ass town and they all knew each other.

But I feel like the new team has the exact opposite problem.

We have a bazillion characters in a huge city but they keep running into each other for no reason whatsoever, simply so KyoAni can say that every single character interacted with each other at least once. Characters run into each other into the middle of nowhere, literally materialize into each other's cars for no apparent reason, every time Haru breathes you have 15 different characters talking about it without really contributing anything... it's all so disingenuous?

It's like the franchise has become a merchandise-selling machine, so they go out of their way to create scenarios that will allow them to sell merch of 50 different combinations of cute dudes. And they achieve this by doing the same thing over and over again except slightly different each time, because if it worked for Utsumi it'll work for them. And this is an issue that's been there since S3, which honestly had zero originality, but sadly the last two movies failed to fix this for me.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the RH from the last two movies as much as anyone else. There was some genuinely brilliant stuff there, like all the imagery with the level crossings stopping Haru from reaching Rin? Imagery that they've been using since the S3 opening? That was fantastic and it had me in tears. Haru trying to tell Rin that he wants to keep swimming by his side forever? The literal marriage proposal I've been waiting for since S1, because this is as close to a confession as one can get in Haru-speak. Haru thinking of Rin when he is asked about what changed his life? Stunning, breathtaking. Rin admitting that he has been deliberately playing dumb about Haru's feelings? A huge game-changer that literally had me stopping and staring because holy shit the fanfic potential for that line alone is astronomical. Probably the best line in the entire movie for me because it's the one thing that felt genuinely new.

And that's the thing, because the rest—while great, because RH has always elevated the story and that will never change—felt... terribly safe? It's like they didn't dare to do too much, so they just rehashed stuff that's already happened in S1 and S2. Rin hugs Haru? Already did it in S1. It'd have been incredible if we finally had Haru initiating a hug, but nope they don't dare to go beyond what Utsumi already did. Rin tells Haru he admires him? Already did it in S2. Haru tells Rin he taught him lots of important things? Already happened in S1. There are SO many things Haru has yet to tell Rin, you could fill an entire phonebook with it. But instead of everything Haru has yet to tell Rin, they chose to have him say... one of the few things he has already told him? Why??

It’s like they don’t dare to go out of the dotted lines Utsumi already traced, so instead they just end up adding the same colors over and over again. And Rin and Haru do end up globetrotting together, but... we already knew they would? That’s never been at stake. The important thing was to see how they got there, but they wasted an entire movie on drama that they resolved within the first 30 mins of this second movie, only to then add even more drama in the form of Haru getting injured.

The movies should have been about Haru and Rin getting used to the professional world and getting to form a relay team. Instead the relay team is a second thought and formed in a rush. And for what? The drama felt like it was there only for the sake of drama, because the conclusion Haru reaches after all of that is just a combination between this S1 and S2 conclusions. The main difference is that S1 and S2 alternated between showing and telling, while now we get some forced showing so they can do the telling.

So while there's some really cool stuff there and I am and will always be happy that RH got their happy ending, the last stretch of Free! just really pales in comparison to S1 and S2 for me 😭

[campcrow2]

Facts about me at 31.

I have a bad knee from when I was 19 and slipped on ice and it never healed right

The constant pressure and stress of daily life has given me a constant shoulder ache and tension in my temples than…never goes away

I have fallen down at least 17 flights of stairs in my lifetime so far

I once after being away at a family friends cabin and summer camp for a month got lost in my own bedroom when I got up in the middle of the night to pee and couldn’t find the door or light switch

I have been in two accidents while driving. One barely dinged the car and was totaled, one I hit a deer and did $19k worth of damage and they didn’t total the car.

When I was a kid I burned both hands really badly touching one of those tube kerosine garage heaters.

I’ve apparently had a blood transfusion and no one in my family remembers when but it’s in my chart and I keep forgetting to ask for clarification.

Also I once saw a physical copy of my chart (like 10 years ago) and it was the size of a phonebook so I imagine now it would be massive.

I got mono when I was 11 despite never having kissed anyone and spent an entire summer dealing with it.

All in all over my….25ish years of wearing hearingaids I’ve probably had 16 pairs of hearingaids and as an adult they won’t let you get fun colored ear molds or casing (trust me I’ve asked repeatedly)

When I was a kid I fell on a cement step and knocked my two front teeth up into my gums. When my adult teeth came in they came in naturally tho.

I once lost my car in a parking garage and spent 45 minutes looking for it.

I’ve had….at least 14 “surgical procedures” in my life ranging from biopsy to full transplant and I’m waiting for another

I used to play in abandoned vehicles and tire cages as a kid because they were just avalible where my dad worked. Like it was a typical Saturday morning to dig through abandoned cars for treasures.

I have lived a fucking life……..

[jjurassicxslytherdor]

hi there! this is gonna be my first tumblr story so I hope you enjoy it. I have other works on other apps but I will not be sharing that haha.

I’m gonna start with just some y/n drabble that I have muse for. I’m open to notes and for requests ;)

Title: After Life

Warnings: mentions of death

Tags: x reader, fantasy, stranger things, eddie munson

Fandom: stranger things

Characters: eddie munson x reader

An old phonebook. An old, dusty, water damaged phonebook sat at your fingertips. It had to be ancient- no one used these things anymore. The world had Google! Or yellowpages even! Although, that seemed a bit outdated as well. The year was 2023. You flipped through the old pages which made a crunching sound each time they were turned. You knew it was a shot in the dark, but you also couldn’t help but be curious as to what possible outcomes there could be from this experiment. Your finger traced down the words of the book until they landed on one name: Eddie Munson. The section was equipped with his phone number and address. There had been other words next to the name, possibly some numbers, but they had vanished with the time and with the weathering of the book. You jotted down the name and address and put the book back on the shelf.

You gave it some time before deciding to act. You had almost forgotten about your soon to be pen pal when you stumbled upon the note you had taken. You figured it was a sign. You grabbed a pen and some paper and began writing.

Eddie,

I know you don’t know who I am… I don’t even know who you are… but I was hoping to find a penpal. What better way to do so then randomly!

This was starting to feel strange… maybe it wasn't such a good idea… he could be an old man for all you knew! Something inside you urged to continue anyways…

Feel free to reply, but do not feel pressured to. My address will be attached as the return address. My name is Y/n L/n. I live in the US.

It's good to not be super specific in cases like this.

I figured this could be a judgment free zone. I had to get this out to someone, and there aren’t many people here who would take the time to listen to my problems. I don’t have any friends… at least not anymore. Not since I decided I liked my life better when I was being true to myself. My friends didn't end up liking the me I chose to be. Have you ever felt like an outcast?

Yours truly,

Is that too forward?

Your humble penpal, Y/n.

Within the next day or so, the letter was signed, sealed, and delivered so to speak. Days went by, you figured it had gotten lost or that the receiver simply tore it up. You had no idea of the journey this little envelope took.

The afterlife is a concept which not many people can fully agree upon. It has been portrayed many different ways throughout the years. In this case, the afterlife was a blue tinted village that lay underground. Tunnels connected thousands of villages and the blue light extended through them all. The light didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular. It just washed over the village and its residence like a filter. Eddie sat at a bar, tended by an older man who loved nothing more than serving drinks. He poured a glass and handed it off to the curly haired man. Eddie still wore his green vest and a bandana around his head. It wasn’t because he had to. He had died in it after all. But he chose to keep it on. He feared he would be unrecognizable without it. Like if his friends ever joined him, not for a long while he hoped, they would be able to recognize him instantly. A buzzing sound was heard in Eddie's ear as a small creature appeared.

“Mail for the deceased.” It said in a gravelly but high pitched voice. He handed an envelope to Eddie and one to the bartender. The bartender gently laughed.

“She’s sent another one… she still thinks about me.” He said. It was from his wife who had outlived him. It had been nearly 10 years, but she never failed to write him love letters. The postal service was funny like that. Sometimes, mail is sent to the afterlife. If you’ve ever wondered where that Amazon package was lost… it may have ended up in the hands of the deceased. Boy do they love getting gifts like that.

Eddie had only ever gotten one letter. It was one written by his uncle as a final goodbye. Eddie read it and couldn’t bear going back to see him. He had the option- to haunt somewhere- but he knew he would be much happier moving on. He could see his friends in the afterlife eventually anyways. He didn’t recognize the name on the envelope. “Who is it from, boy? You've been dead for a while now…” He started, before he remembered that time worked differently there. Though Eddie had been dead for nearly 20 years, he’d only been in the afterlife for about 10.

“I don’t know…” He said. He looked into the other room where a stage was set up. He still played music in the afterlife. He had received a copy of his guitar and continued to play it. Sometimes, the afterlife reminded him of the Upside Down. But it was much calmer. No one was watching. He kept on his merry way. An eternity in a happy place.

He ripped open the envelope and read its contents. “It's just… someone who wants to be a penpal.” He said. He laughed softly. “Poor thing…” he read the words.

Have you ever felt like an outcast?

He shifted in his seat. Of course he had! He was boiling with advice he could give to this person! Advice he could give to you!

“But we can’t write back to them, can we?” He shrugged it off. The bartender was about to chuckle and agree with him. However instead he stopped in the middle of cleaning a glass and tilted his head.

“Well… I don’t believe I’ve ever tried.” He said. “By all means, boy! Write back! If you can communicate across planes… then I could talk to my wife! My Carol!” he said. He didn’t want to try the experiment out himself because… well… because what if it did work? It might do Carol more harm than good… but this new penpal of Eddie’s… they had no idea that he was dead. They would never suspect it. Eddie could give his advice and not have to cause a disruption between life and what comes next!

He bolted out of his bar stool and ran to a room he called his own. He pulled out paper and a pen and began writing.

To be continued

[gabriel-gabdiel]

Fantasy of Evolution Chapter 5: Press Ctrl-Z to Undo

If only it were as easy as pressing Ctrl + Z in order to undo the mistakes you’ve done in your life.

At any rate, Florante is about to deal with his personal Judas Iscariot. His former best friend, Isaiah. 

You can also find more chapters of my original fiction here. Please enjoy.

First | Previous | Next

Back in Fatima High, after Florante Galang dreamed another one of his strange dreams…

In his latest dream, Florante "stalked" his classmate's apartment then they fought as a pair against a shadow monster at Makati's Guadalupe Church.

In the end, although he wasn't hero material even in his daydreams (or night dreams), he still managed to find a way to do something that he could be proud of.

He stopped Mammon's Minion and undid that reality where multiple innocents died, thus saving their lives all at once.

Or maybe he didn't and it was all in his imagination.

Florante Galang shut his eyes and exhaled. Whoopty-doo. He did something heroic in his dreams. The thought made him cringe.

Still, even if it was a dream, the feelings he felt for the dream version of Jenny still made his knees weak. It all felt so real.

If only reality could evolve and match his fantasy. Alas, reality killed such whimsical notions faster than it helped him defeat the immortal crawling chaos.

But it wasn't real. It was all just a dream. It didn't really happen.

Had he really been traumatized by his bullies to the point where he used his fantasies and daydreams to cope with his daily reality of social suicide? Yeah, probably.

If only his dreams were real, then he would've asked Jenny out for a date by now. No, no. He meant he would've asked her more about Mammon.

What was that American(?) white man foreigner's deal anyway? Why'd he sic his Minion at them?

Oh, right. Jenny.

He pressed his fingers on his forehead, remembering that imagined kiss from the bespectacled beauty that was Jennifer Tolentino. The girl next door.

He let out another deep sigh. He really did have it bad for her now, didn't he?

However, he had to remind himself of the obvious. The dream version of Jenny was nothing like the real-life version of her. They hadn't interacted that way at all.

No more stalking of her. Get rid of that photocopy of her number in the yellow pages and that girl that had the same name as her from that yearbook from the 1960s or whatever.

The Mammon from his dream was right about one thing, though. Florante did act like a creep by tracking down Jenny's phone number and address from the phonebook instead of asking her about it like a normal person.

What was he thinking?

Still, once he could write and draw these ideas into an actual novel or comic book though, then that could make his strange dreams worth his while. They were compiled inside his dream journal already. So maybe.

Regardless, he woke up from the… third(?) strange dream/nightmare he'd had as of late. 'I think.'

Once again, the reset button had been pushed. Or the shortcut to "Undo" your last change on the document, "Ctrl + Z" (pushing the "Control" key and the "Z" key on the keyboard at the same time).

So everything went back to normal. No harm, no foul, right?

Still, he should really grow up by now. Abandon his idle, childish thoughts and turn his life around for real.

Soon, it'd be his fifteenth birthday.

He had no girlfriend on sight, no social life to speak of, barely any friends, but life went on, right? Right.

***

Fantasy of Evolution

An Urban Fantasy Story by Abdiel

When you press Ctrl + Z on your Windows machine, you could undo the last action you've done.

Disclaimer: This work may reference copyrighted material, the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. It is believed that this constitutes a fair use of any such copyrighted material as provided for in Section 107 of the US Copyright Law. All copyrighted material referred to in this work belongs to their respective owners. All rights reserved.

***

Chapter 5: Press Ctrl-Z to Undo

***

It was around dismissal time again, and Florante had time to kill before his school jeepney service came around to pick him up.

He spotted his acquaintances, the Dead Kids, from a distance walking the opposite way as him.

Florante couldn't tell because they usually wore the same uniforms, but whenever it was Casual Fridays at Fatima (when the students were allowed to wear casualwear instead of their daily uniforms), the Dead Kids wore clothes that subtly hinted of designer origins.

By the way, the Fatima High uniform for boys was brown khaki pants, a button-down white collared dress shirt with short sleeves, ankle-high socks, and black leather shoes.

For girls, it was a white blouse with a collar, sash, tie, and pleated knee-high skirt bearing the same checkerboard black-and-white pattern as well as ankle-high socks and black dress shoes.

Not that the "fashion senseless" Florante was any authority on the subject or anything. Sometimes, even on Fridays, he kept wearing his school uniform composed of the button-down polo shirt and long khaki pants with black leather shoes over black socks.

He also had a backpack full of his school books, notebooks, pencils, and ballpoint pens. Like the nerd that he was. However, even he with his bad taste in clothes could tell the Dead Kids were dressed to the nines that matched their remarkably good looks.

Then again, their mesmerizing faces looked so dashing they could've worn dishrags and pulled it off. Nevertheless, it seemed rather appropriate they'd have both money and looks.

The fact that they were unable to mix with the rest of the student body like Florante did somewhat boggled his mind, though. Many of their "haters" called them pompous pretenders at best or braggadocious snobs at worst.

They were mostly called weirdoes, to be honest.

On one hand, their richness didn't afford them any acceptance in Fatima High. Like celebrities being bullied in college by their jealous classmates because they exuded an aura of superiority that rubbed them all the wrong way.

On the other hand, Florante didn't fully believe that the lack of acceptance was circumstantial. The way their group acted indicated that they desired isolation. He just couldn't imagine how any door could remain closed by their halo of beauty.

Meanwhile, although the group of Alonzo Estanislao, Kalantiaw and Dalisay Hidalgo, Jacob Benjamin, and Francisco Celestino did wave back at himwhen they spotted him (though it was mostly Lonzo and Dalisay who did the waving), he himself opted to go alone to the nearby walking-distance mall.

Nirvana Plaza wasn't far from Fatima High. Just walk from one of the rear exits of the school towards the rear entrance near the local Nationwide Bookstore branch and you're good to go.

He felt relaxed going there even though he barely had any money himself to buy anything there, whether it was comic books or food.

He had no allowance to speak of and he had packed lunches more often than not inside recycled ice cream containers turned into makeshift lunchboxes.

He wasn't poor or anything, it was just that he wasn't rich either and private school tuition was expensive.

It was fine. He loved window shopping on an empty stomach. Well, not really, but the mall did serve as his safe haven from his droll and friendless school existence.

He remembered when he first ventured alone into the mall instead of going straight home from his school service. Trips to the mall for his family used to be special events. They had to go to all the way from Pasig to Cubao to eat out, get groceries, or watch a movie.

Now, he could hang out in places like arcades or peek at a few pages of comic books at bookstores to his heart's content instead of staring blankly at a wall, waiting for the school service to pick him up and take him home. Daydreaming of adventures with the Ninja Turtles or the X-Men.

If he could get extra money from his parents, like spare change from buying art supplies or home economics requirements, he could give himself the occasional mall treat.

An ice cream cone here. A doughnut there. Maybe even some supermarket turon (caramelized fried banana rapped in spring roll wrapper).

Or maybe a few rounds of the latest iteration of Street Fighter, with him usually succumbing to the third character during a one-player game. He sucked at versus mode since he couldn't practice at the arcades for too long.

This was what a friendless dork like him had to look forward to, honestly.

Maybe one day, once he had a job and his own money, he'd have a fun-filled day buying comic books, playing games at the arcade, or going to the movies in his lonesome. However, as a student with barely any allowance, this setup wasn't bad at all.

It sounded depressing, but only if he had to share his experiences with anyone else. He actually loved going to Nirvana Shopping Plaza in his lonesome.

However, today, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone kept an eye over him, which made him feel paranoid.

Did his bullies spot him again, like the last time? That one asshole with his girlfriend clinging unto him once smugly asked him if he was on a date after spotting him walking alone near the food court. What a bastard.

He couldn't spot any of his usual tormentors right now though, who had opted nowadays to go with the more passive-aggressive approach to bullying him.

After a few more minutes of being a listless mallrat, he went back to the parking lot and spotted his ride back home, which was his designated school service jeepney.

***

On the eastern border of Metro Manila, the highly urbanized city of Pasig City existed under the cover of smog clouds and the infamously polluted Pasig River, which it shared its name with.

To its south, it was bordered by the cosmopolitan center of Makati. To its north was Marikina. To its west was Mandaluyong and Quezon City (where Fatima High was). To its east were the municipalities of Taytay and Cainta in the Rizal Province.

Pasig was also known for its raging floods during typhoon season, by which it could've gotten its name from. The city had floods that were "Mapagsik" or "Mabagsik" (in English, it meant "Raging", "Fierce", or "Aggressive") which eventually evolved into "Pagsik" or "Pasig".

Usually, the private jeepney service fetched Florante and a couple of others from their private school so they could go home safe and sound on behalf of all their parents, who paid them a monthly fee for the convenience.

However, the jeepney's open-air windows also gave them to get a good whiff of Metro Manila pollution for good measure.

Florante covered his mouth with a handkerchief. No point in getting sick and triggering his asthma again.

The sky remained hazy, its blueness sporting an ashen tinge to it as though muted by the city smog. The wind in his face thankfully disappeared as they went to a standstill.

The classic late afternoon traffic jam in the metro. Only the Bangkok Jam could rival its ubiquitousness in Metro Manila.

His new school was about 4 miles or about an hour away from his home in Pasig City. His former school, which only offered classes up until Grade 6, was instead 13 minutes away or about a mile away.

Thusly, it felt like it took the jeep forever to get him home.

As they sluggish traffic wore on, Florante's mind started wandering.

His mother was the typical strict Filipina mother. Domineering, almost. He could never talk to her about anything. Their relationship was complicated. She wasn't the hugging or healing type of mother. She kind of scared him most of the time, actually.

Sure, she perhaps had her own things to worry about, like how he kept on hearing about her own domineering mother-in-law—his grandmother from his father's side—but he dreaded her wrath as much as she detested his grandma.

His mother also for the most part looked like her sisters or his aunts... of course... while Florante himself looked like one of his cousins or uncles when they were younger. They all shared the same almond skin, black hair, and sharp, dark brown eyes.

She was in stark contrast of his father, her husband, who looked somewhat like he was of Chinese or Japanese (East Asian) descent but was actually a Filipino himself. As strict and boisterous as she was, his father was the exact opposite.

A relaxed and chill engineer who tinkered a lot around the house, doing quick fixes from their pipes to their ceiling to save them thousands of pesos from having plumbers and electricians do their work for them.

By the time the jeepney school service arrived at his home, there was a drizzle of rain. It soon became a downpour when he got inside the house. Just in time.

It was already June, after all. Rainy season. Also, the month of Florante's birthday.

He'd have another birthday spent with his family. He had no friends to invite over the house for dinner. No parties with his compatriots drinking beer either. He never even tried beer.

He had heard that taking in too much alcohol could compromise his breathing as an asthmatic. Not that he'd ever tried.

Besides, he was a minor. Even though he had heard of several of his classmates drinking a bit of the bubbly themselves.

He was used to having a simple feast of spaghetti and a liter of Coca-Cola as his only birthday splurge. Tuition for his private school was expensive and in the Philippines, the school year started in June.

So his birthday had to be as simple as possible during tuition month, which was also his birthday month.

***

After Florante got home to the Galang Residence in Pasig, he went straight to the television set to catch the tail-end of whichever anime was airing in the afternoon.

He hated how as a kid, when "Thundercats" was a big deal, he always ended up seeing the end credits whenever he tried catching it on TV.

Ditto with "Rainbow Brite".

When he finished with that attempt at entertaining himself, he took his bag and went to his room.

Before doing his homework, he changed into a shirt and baggy shorts as popularized by the G.O.A.T. (Greatest of All Time) of 1990s basketball, Michael Jordan. He also read a bit of "Paradise Lost" by 17th Century English poet John Milton for good measure.

And when that gave him a headache, what with his short attention span and the hard-to-read long-form poetry, he had the Cliffnotes version help him summarize and analyze each passage.

At the back of his mind, he chided himself to do as much effort on his math homework as he did with his "extracurricular reading" of this book for the sake of creating his own comic book story.

Nevertheless, while he was wandering around the mall earlier, alone in his thoughts, he thought about Mammon's intentions in his dreams.

As a demon, he obviously tried to tempt him to go all out and transform into an Ophanim, perhaps to the point of becoming a fallen angel and turning into a Minion.

However, for what purpose? To add him to their demon horde? Their "Pandemonium"? What were they trying to achieve, awakening Ophanims and corrupting them to become Minions?

The thought kind of excited him a little bit. He'd been struggling to come up with a plot for his comic book or original story, only for his strange dreams full of his male power fantasies and coping mechanisms to hand him such a plot on a silver platter.

He should really make more detailed accounts of his dreams in his dream journal from now on.

While also making sure never to allow his classmates, especially his mostly male bullies, to know he was keeping a dream journal like a 6-year-old girl still having tea parties with her dollies.

The rest of the afternoon and evening became a blur.

His Dad got home after fetching his two elder sisters from college at the University of Sto. Tomas. Then it was dinnertime. They ate his Mom's specialty of pork adobo (meat simmered in a mixture of garlic, soy sauce, and vinegar).

He couldn't bring up the fact that he was getting bullied at school to his parents, which apparently was typical of bullied kids.

No one wanted to be a victim of bullying or admit to being one.

What would they do to help fix it anyway? Knowing his Mom, she might even blame him for the bullying, bringing up that he was a disrespectful child.

His Mom, bless her heart, was such as stereotypical strict Asian parent. He was also petrified of her more often than not—more than his bullies—particularly when he came home with bad grades.

He didn't get beat up for them or anything, but he did get an earful of lectures from her. The beatings came when he answered back or "disrespected" her somehow, as she put it.

She had quite the fiery temper. Her arsenal of weapons included tsinelas (flip-flops), the nearest wooden spoon, a walis tingting (broom made from the thin midribs of palm leaves), or a walis tambo (broom made from the flower stalks of Tiger grass).

Had he mentioned that he had a complicated relationship with his mother? Because he did. Confessing to her that he was being bullied was the last thing on his mind.

She might somehow make it about him disrespecting her or something. No way did he want to trigger that ass-whupping if he could help it.

In contrast, Dad was more of a congenial fellow. The good cop to his Mom's bad cop. He never hit him and Florante couldn't remember the last time his father became angry or lashed out at him.

He could have heart-to-heart talks with him. It was much easier with him than with his contentious Mom that reminded him more of Cinderella's Stepmother whenever she got into one of her "moods".

However, he also couldn't outright confess to him about the bullying. It was too embarrassing. Shameful. Like he was too old to still not have friends or to still get teased by the boys in his class.

He did mention to him about having to deal with the jerks in class though. So he subtly told him about the bullying without telling him he was being bullied. If that made sense.

***

After dinner at the Galang Residence…

Once everyone in the family settled down and went their separate ways, with his parents going to their room, one sister going to the TV, and another sister going to the phone, Florante planned his approach to his father carefully.

After chancing upon Dad going to the kitchen to fetch a container of cold water to drink, Florante asked his question.

No, not about bullying. It was about the Dead Kids.

"Dad, do you know anyone named Celestino in Pasig? Or Hidalgo…?"

His father blinked at that. "Can't say that I have. I don't even have coworkers named like that. Hidalgo is the national artist, right?"

By the way, Florante's father was a mechanical engineer who worked at a factory for a multinational company. And he meant "Felix Hidalgo" by national Filipino artist and painter.

"How about Benjamin? Estanislao?" Florante pressed. "Back in Makati, did we know of any Tolentinos?"

"Whoa, whoa. Settle down there, kid."

Dad scratched his the freshly shaved stubble that would've formed into a beard.

"I might've had a classmate named Benjamin, but that's his first name. I've heard of Father Estanislao who marched with Jose Rizal during his final walk before his execution. There are too many Tolentinos around to say that I know the same Tolentinos you know."

Florante sighed then smiled. "Thanks, Dad." His father always obliged or humored even the silliest of his questions. He answered them the best he could. 'He really is the best.'

"Why are you asking me this? Are they the names of your friends or something?"

The son awkwardly laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

Dad ruffled Florante's head. "That's good. Make more friends in school, son."

The heartwarming exchange made Florante divulge something he normally wouldn't. "They… the kids… they're a little different. They don't seem to fit in at school." Unsaid, he added, 'Like I do.'

His Dad pulled a seat and sat with him, setting aside the cold water bottle he fetched from the refrigerator for now.

"Did I ever tell you about how your cousin punched a kid who was messing with him at Fatima? He got suspended and the school faculty even called your uncle to the principal's office. But the kid never messed with him ever again."

'If only I had the guts to do that,' Florante thought. He said, "I don't think they'll ever fight back or anything, but it's messed up that they don't fit in. They did nothing wrong. Who cares if they're a little weird?"

Dad nodded. "When it comes to bullies, it's best that you show them who's boss from the start. The more you let them get to you the more they'll mess with you."

Florante then realized his father was subtly giving advice for his own bullying after bringing up his friends.

However, he was so pathetic he could only dream of blasting his bullies to kingdom come, which was even more messed up. Now that he had considered the consequences of such actions, he'd rather just embarrass them a little bit. Like his cousin did to his bully.

Punch them once to have them leave you alone for good. Or even pull a prank. No need to kill them or anything!

Good thing it was all just a dream. Once it ended, he faced no consequences for his actions. Or so he kept telling himself.

Like he'd just hit the reset button on his game console to go back to the main menu or the first level. Or hit the Ctrl + Z shortcut on the family's personal computer, undoing his mistakes on the MS Word document or MS Paint bitmap.

If only he could hit "Undo" all the way to the first day of his freshman year at Fatima, then that would be peachy. Alas, reality didn't work that way.

Backpedaling a bit while also denying he was being bullied, Florante said, "Those guys seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves more often than not. Some of them are my classmates in the Art Club, even."

"So they act just like you, huh?" said Florante's father. "You also keep to yourself a lot. Which is perfectly fine, son. It's a good thing you've found friends who match your personality, Florante."

"Yeah, I guess, Dad. Birds of a feather, am I right?" he said, now wishing to change the subject.

They lapsed into silence before Dad got up, grabbed his water bottle, and said to him, "Good night, son."

He in turn said, "Good night, Dad."

After a little while, Florante himself got up from his seat and went to the TV to watch whatever it was his sister was watching.

He was already sleepy by the time he started on his math homework, which he considered finishing while traveling to school on his school service jeepney.

***

The rest of the week proved uneventful. No new fucked-up dreams about him murdering classmates or battling eldritch abominations with his newest crush, Jenny Tolentino.

No Mammon. No Minions. No Ophanims. Just… vibes. These alien concepts all started fading in his subconscious like dreams and nightmares were supposed to.

He got used to the routine of his classes and being at least civil around classmates that tolerated him at best while whispering devilish rumors about him behind his back.

Oh well. He did promise the Jenny from his dreams to forget all about the angel and demon nonsense to live out his normal life.

However, try as he might, he couldn't forget those fever dreams where he moved as swiftly as the wind and destroyed everything in his path like a U.S. missile strike.

In reality, during P.E. (Physical Education) class, the classmates he got paired up with learned not to pass him the basketball and to step quickly in front of him if the other team attempted to exploit his unathletic asthmatic self as their weakest link.

Florante did his best to get out of their way or serve as an extra body to clog passing lanes when he wasn't being benched for other, more skilful basketball players.

However, he noticed something was amiss.

Jennifer Tolentino hadn't come back to school since the last time he got into contact with her.

It had been a week since he last talked to Jenny. On the phone in real life and at Guadalupe Church in his dreams. Or did both things happen in his dreams?

Every day, he watched anxiously for any sign of her. The hawk-sized butterflies at the pit of his stomach made him wonder if she wasn't able to revive from her untimely demise in his last dream.

Only for him to mentally slap himself and chide that his daydreams or nighttime dreams had no effect on reality. Jenny was probably absent for some other reason.

He'd been hanging out with the Dead Kids again lately, acting as their gopher. Nevertheless, he couldn't get Jenny out of his mind. How could he? She was gone!

It'd be much easier for him to follow her advice and forget about this Ophanim business had she continued going to Fatima High and acting normal herself.

Then he could at least pretend that his psychotic massacre of his classmates and failed attempts at heroism against fallen angels or demons hadn't really happened.

In English class—as headed by the no-nonsense Mr. Benigno "Noy" Borabo—Florante took his accustomed seat at the back of the class, near the windows overlooking the streets outside.

They got a pop quiz on English grammar involving Subject, Predicate, Object of the Preposition, and so forth, which only made him wish they'd do more required reading.

He'd at least watched the film/TV/animated versions of "Tom Sawyer", "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", "The Odyssey", "To Kill a Mockingbird", "The Great Gatsby", "Lord of the Flies", "Animal Farm", or "Of Mice and Men".

Or read the CliffsNotes versions of such and many other classics. Reviewing grammar rules was as boring as reading the phone book.

Regardless, he felt more comfortable with school lately than ever before.

He had reached some sort of closure or homeostasis (thanks, Ms. Del Mundo's Biology Class) with his nightmares involving classmate murder and choosing between becoming an angel or a demon.

Ha. Closure. He sounded like the family of a missing person that finally found out the grisly fate of their beloved.

In regards to his real-life bullying situation, he had instead reached ennui (thanks, Webster's Dictionary). A feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.

Maybe it was this lack of catharsis and boredom—from the impasse he and his bullies had reached since he decided to bite the bullet and snitch on them—that led him to dream such horrid dreams.

By Friday, he wondered about whether or not he should give Jenny a call. He had her number for real, after all.

For all he knew, she had already dropped out of school.

He tried not thinking about the nerdy girl, but he couldn't completely suppress his anxiousness that he'd been somehow responsible for her absence, as absurd of a thought as that was.

Florante Galang slept a dreamless sleep over the weekend due to the soft June rain and even softer thoughts of the bespectacled Jenny.

He might've finished his weekend homework by then but he neglected to read up on Social Studies, leading him to cram at the last minute for the upcoming quiz while riding his jeepney service to school that fateful Monday.

It felt a bit nippy outside so early in the morning at 7:30 AM or so, before the school assembly started.

He got cursory acknowledgements of his existence from several classmates by Monday morning, after getting off his school service ride and making a beeline towards his classroom.

He also dealt with small talk on whether or not he was able to finish the homework before they proceeded to talk to their own actual friends and ignore him in his lonesome.

The morning was cold but at least it wasn't raining. The school assembly proved uneventful. Still no sign of Jennifer though. Was she absent again?

The different classes then headed to back to their respective classrooms in order to proceed with the first subject of the day.

***

Another day, another boring class.

Florante had Araling Panlipunan (Social Studies) for today, as covered by Mr. Neil Nepumoceno. Neil was the jokey type of teacher with a strange goofy charisma to him whose signature outburst was "Aye Caramba!"

Yeah, like Bart Simpson's catchphrase from The Simpsons. Quite the character. Mr. Nepumoceno encouraged debate and rapport with his students during every topic he covered, from the Philippine Revolution against Spain to World War II.

Florante's blood ran cold as he remembered something.

Neil was the teacher that got in his way during his dream massacre of his classmates from First Year St. Francis.

Oh yeah. Galang had turned Mr. Nepumoceno into a splatter on the wall. Like something out of a horror B-movie. Or a Mortal Kombat "Fatality".

He pushed such dark thoughts deep into his subconscious mind. He promised the dream version of Jenny that he'd forget about that dream. Or all his dreams since then. So he would.

With that said, a certain someone—a classmate of his—still didn't give him the time of day. Not that any of them did, but this particular one hurt him the most when it happened.

Galang still felt awkward being around Laura Reyes, but that was to be expected.

His first high school crush remained upset about that "nude drawing" incident when he didn't actually draw her nude! He was using a rough sketch and shapes to construct her body before adding details and clothes, dammit!

He had hoped he wasn't as subconsciously psychotic as he suspected he was, what with him dreaming about killing Laura (albeit in a moment of duress) just because she didn't return his affection and all.

For weeks since the incident, they avoided each other like the plague even though they were classmates. It even got to the point where Florante could've sworn Laura got bothered by him avoiding her before she could avoid him.

Yes, it was ridiculous, not to mention egotistical, to think that he could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible, even. And yet he couldn't stop worrying that it was true. At the time, anyway.

That little twinge of annoyance from her gave him a small spark of hope that he still occupied Laura's mind somehow, even in the form of a pest.

Better that than be ignored altogether.

However, now Laura was but an afterthought compared to the glasses-wearing girl in Florante's literal dreams.

Florante held his breath at the door, peering here and there of any sign of Jennifer Tolentino, but it seemed she wasn't around. He exhaled and went to his seat.

Jenny then followed him from behind, talking about yearbooks and phone calls or something.

Wait a minute.

"Jenny?" he blurted out.

"Flor!" she said in return. "Oops, you told me to not call you that! Sorry!"

"No, it's all right. I don't mind," he reassured. "What was that about phone books?"

"Oh, I was just askin' why you called me from my house last time," she said with the sweetest smile as she brushed a single lock of hair from her face.

He gulped and explained himself, saying he found it interesting that he found another Jennifer Tolentino in an older Fatima High yearbook, stuttering all the while.

At the back of his mind, he told himself to calm down. This wasn't unusual. Jennifer had talked to him before. She didn't cut all communication from him like Laura did. She'd always been friendly to everyone.

She wasn't friendly beyond logic like the dream version of her that invited him into her apartment after finding out he essentially stalked her though.

Still, he couldn't remember one person where she had beef or drama with in their class.

She lingered by his desk till the bell rang, which left his heart aflutter. She then went to sit by her actual seat while Mr. Nepumoceno finally arrived to start the class.

He considered hanging out with Jenny some more but thought the better of it.

This wasn't the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Jenny. Even a nice girl like the real Jenny might lack tact to let him down gently if ever he became one of those overly friendly boys that hung around the girls a bit too much.

However, as class began, Florante realized he had another problem in his hands.

He couldn't stop staring at Jenny. He tried to be slick about it too, but he knew she knew he was watching her. This made him overcompensate and avoid gazing at her ever for fear for him creeping her out.

What was wrong with him? Dammit. He pulled the same thing the first time Laura rejected him over that misunderstanding with the drawing. With him not staring at her and all. Or ignoring her beyond reason.

Susmaryosep. He wouldn't be surprised if Jenny started avoiding him too.

Anyway, he should pay more attention to class. They were covering the Martial Law years or something. He hoped he crammed about the right topic for the quiz later.

The good news was that Jenny, the real Jenny, had begun talking to him more, like she used to before his unfortunate falling out with her group due to Laura thinking he was a creep.

The bad news, if it could be considered bad news, was that he kind of missed having memorable dreams and fighting against nightmarish monsters beyond human comprehension.

He could deal with those dreams better than his awkward reality of teenage infatuation.

***

Much later, during lunchtime…

As Florante walked out of class along with the rest of his classmates as the lunch bell rang, the air glistened with a light rain. The cold wind bit at his nose. His cheeks.

A light sprinkle fell from hesitantly overcast skies that still shone of daylight. Silvery slivers of water reflected bits of rainbow sunshine as a result.

Dammit. He should've brought an umbrella with him but he forgot again.

Meanwhile, his head got lost in those clouds, wondering how to best approach Jennifer while a part of him screamed at himself to stop making a fool of himself over his newest crush.

Sometimes, discretion was the better part of valor. Sometimes, the only way to win the game was not to play.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" Florante heard someone from behind him say, which he soon realized was Alonzo Estanislao. Huh.

Florante smiled and began to nod, but he then hesitated and said, "We'll see. I might skip lunch."

Lonzo kept walking as he spoke. "Sure. No prob. Still waiting for your girlfriend to get back?" he teased.

"Shut up. She's not my girlfriend. Stop being weird," Florante hissed at Lonzo, looking around him for any sign of his classmates. They might overhear and spread rumors again about his crush, just like with Laura.

"Okay, okay. I'm just kidding," reassured Alonzo. "So did anything good happen? You're smiling more."

Gah. Was he that obvious?

"She's back already," Galang murmured it so softly it sounded like an afterthought, hoping Lonzo would miss what he'd say, only for him to cringe when he heard, "Congrats, man."

The drizzle became a squall, and Florante's mood became as soggy as a wet sock The more it rained the soggier it got and the worse his unease grew.

He considered locking himself in the library again on an empty stomach instead of eating with the so-called Dead Kids like the social outcast that they were.

He checked his wallet. He had enough spare change for a soda, at least. And maybe a bag of chips.

He entered the cafeteria, which was on a basement level of a building separate from their high school building. The grade school and high school buildings shared the same cafeteria.

The sun flooded daylight inside the cafeteria basement through a series of chain-link fences that served as the wall that separated the area from the nearby park and the grassy soccer field.

The soft squall made the grass glisten in the sun. During downpours, whole islands were formed on the field amidst the flood of puddles, mud, and sludge. Like a miniature archipelago.

Florante scanned for the Dead Kids' table in the corner of the cafeteria out of habit. Then he froze where he stood.

There were six people at the table now. Excluding Florante, because he hadn't reached there yet.

Huh. Six people.

The usual five were there: Alonzo "Lonzo" Estanislao, Kalantiaw "Kal" Hidalgo and his sister Dalisay, Jacob "Benjo" Benjamin, and Francisco "Kiko" Celestino.

The sixth one was a familiar face, though. It was Jennifer "Jenny" Tolentino.

Florante took out his asthma inhaler and took a puff as soon as he started making those familiar wheezing sounds.

***

Alonzo Estanislao called after Florante Galang after spotting him.

"Yo, Flor!" Lonzo said, which made "Flor" wince. "What are you standing around for? Come over here!"

As Florante did just that, he wondered what was Jenny doing over there.

She'd finally got to school after a week of being absent, but what was she doing with the Dead Kids' table?

Galang looked down and away from the table as soon as Jenny stared at his direction. His ears felt hot. He told himself he had no reason to feel self-conscious. It wasn't as if he did anything wrong, after all.

"What's with Florante?" Florante heard Dalisay ask, which made him finally pick up his pace towards the table before he embarrassed himself any further in front of the one group in the school that hung out with him.

The dainty Dalisay asked once he got there, "You okay, Florante? Do you need to go to the clinic or something?"

Benjo sniggered and needled, "Maybe he's constipated. He needs to take a massive dump!" which prompted Lonzo to smack him upside the head while in the background, Kal harrumphed and called them both idiots.

"You're so gross, Benjo," admonished Dalisay.

He felt his body jolt when he heard Jenny ask, "It's not your asthma acting up, is it?"

Galang reassured her that it wasn't the case, revealing his handy inhaler in his pocket. "Not asthma." He shook his head vigorously. "I'm fine," he reassured, scratching the back of his head. His wheezy breathing belying his reassurances.  

Once his eyes met with Jennifer, he muttered, "H-Hey. Fancy meeting you here."

Jenny smiled and brushed her hair back from her face. "Likewise, Flor. I'm back, I guess?"

Florante smiled in spite of himself. Laughing nervously, he changed the suhject. "I think I'll get a soda today. Any of you need anything?"

"Just soda?" asked Jenny. "It's lunch, not recess. Eat something."

"Aren't you hungry, Florante?" chimed in Dalisay.

"Actually, maybe I do feel a little sick," Florante said, looking at the floor and his dirty shoes. "Um. I mean, I don't have an appetite right now."

Lonzo, who now looked scuffed up from his roughhousing with Benjo, grabbed Florante by the shoulders and sat him down the bench of the lunch table. "Then sit this one out. I'll fetch everyone their lunch and buy your soda."

Florante gulped and nodded his thanks while handing the money to Lonzo, who elected to be the group's gopher for today.

Jacob and Kalantiaw also volunteered to come with him to help out holding the lunch trays.

***

Florante waited for the trio to get their food along with the usually studious Kiko, the wallflower Goth Queen Dalisay, and, well, his classmate Jenny, whom he ended up sitting beside with thanks to Lonzo's prompting.

Damn that Lonzo.

He had nowhere to look and he somehow didn't feel like talking at length to Jenny right now.

Also, when he looked up across the table, he ended up staring at a stern-looking Celestino who looked more like a teacher or a college student than someone from high school.

The studious Kiko barely talked at all, even though he was viewed by the rest of the school campus as the leader of the Dead Kids.

His batch's likeliest Valedictorian or even Salutatorian was this socially awkward nerd. Who knew?

Francisco hadn't even gone to college yet and Florante could already swear he'd become the Summa Cum Laude, if not at least the Magna Cum Laude of his year of college graduates with ease. He just exuded that kind of academically superior aura.

"What is it?" asked Kiko, his eyes meeting with Florante's as he looked up from what he was reading (Advanced Calculus).

"HUH? Oh, nothing!" said Florante. The last thing he wanted was small talk with Mr. Battle of the Brains himself. "Sorry for staring."

For a student supposedly only 3 years older than him, Celestino gave Galang the vibes of a someone much older. Like a college professor. Or a CEO. Or a high-priced attorney. Any full-grown adult with loads of money, power, worldly experience, or influence.

With a raised eyebrow, Celestino returned to his book and commented, "Take the hint, kid."

'Take the hint…?' Florante thought, only for him to realize that Alonzo probably already talked to Francisco to about him and Jenny.

Dammit, you guys. It wasn't that serious! He didn't even remember telling any of them about his feelings for Jenny either! How'd they figure things out?

Minutes later, he got his soda, which he sipped slowly. Or maybe he should sip it faster so that he could excuse himself and leave.

He could even play his asthma up and escape to the clinic for the next hour.

However, he told himself to get a hold of, well, himself. Why should he run away?

To make way for their lunch trays and lunches, Florante took the opportunity to move away and give room to the rest of the Dead Kids, with him sitting on a separate table with his soda.

Eventually, he decided to permit himself to glance beside him. If Jenny glared at him for staring, he'd have the resolve to go to the nurse's office and skip class for the rest of the afternoon.

Or complain about the upset stomach he was literally feeling right now. Like the coward he was.He wouldn't be lying either. He had butterflies in his stomach the size of eagles, it felt like.

He looked up in time to see Dalisay and Jenny laughing at Benjo's antics with Lonzo.

This reminded him of how the Dead Kids charmed him into their group in the first place, actually. They were social outcasts like him, but they chose to be so. They showed him it was okay to be different.

They liked keeping to themselves and didn't care how they looked to others, which Florante respected a lot.

The most abuse Florante got from them was them using him as their gopher or getting his name wrong. Even Benjo, their one member that reminded Galang of his classmate bulies, never went the extra mile when teasing him.

He never felt like any of them dehumanized or degraded him. Or treated him like the "other".

They didn't treat him particularly well or superbly, but even their mere tolerance of him was leagues better than the treatment he got from his own classmates as the resident weirdo of the class.

Florante heaved a relieved sigh at Jenny getting along with the rest of his so-called friends. Or even acquaintances.

His heart twinged with jealousy at the sight too. Made him wish he was closer with both the Dead Kids and Jennifer.

What was he even worried about again?

That he'd ruin another friendship because he caught feelings with Jenny like he did with Laura, so he'd start acting all awkward and creepy around her?

Nah. He had no need to fear. He simply just had to deny his silly crush with Jennifer so they wouldn't end up cold and distant like him and Laura Reyes did.

Even if this was good as it got, he'd be fine with it.

This was his path of least regrets.

If there was an event he wouldn't "Undo" with a magical "Ctrl + Z" command, then it would be him meeting his friendships/acquaintances, the Dead Kids.

***

Aside from the playfulness and banter, something seemed different between the Dead Kids and Jenny Tolentino from the rest of Florante's classmates that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Their infectious positivity seemed like something out of a commercial for menthol cigarettes or saltine crackers, thought the bemused Florante.

No wait. Mentos. They acted like they were in a Mentos commercial!

Something about them seemed almost surreal. Or unreal. Like a performance.

He examined Jenny the most. Not because he was enamored by her, of course. Well, maybe because of that too.

Jenny's glasses glinted in the daylight of the open cafeteria. Her skin was pale, but it looked practically tanned when near the porcelain or marble statue skin of Dalisay, who truly lived up to her name. In Tagalog, "Dalisay" meant "Pure".

Hell, compared to her, Florante's skin was practically wood-colored.

Florante averted his eyes from Kal's sister by reflex, knowing full-well of how extreme Dalisay's overprotective brother behaved around people who stared at her or even tried to talk to her (like Lonzo, who was supposed to be their friend).

Meanwhile, Jenny's pink lips pursed into a cute pout as she and Dalisay teased each other over… something. Her hazel eyes sparkled with her flushed, blushing face.

What was about her that seemed strange to him? Was it his imagination? He pondered, staring at Jenny, trying to isolate any changes in her expression.

At the back of his mind, he idly wondered if this Jenny had the same memories as the Jenny in his dreams. The one that saved his life twice. The literal girl of his dreams. Did reality match his fantasy?

"What are you staring at, Flor?" asked Lonzo with a snicker, and Florante knew that the cheeky bastard already knew the answer to his own damn question.

At that moment, Jenny's eyes flashed to meet Florante's.

Instead of merely looking curious, she gave him a harsh stare. Like a warning of some sort. Her sharp eyes belying the smile on her face.

Florante dropped his head, letting his curtain of hair bangs cover his face. During the instant that their eyes met, he could've sworn.

"Flor…?" Lonzo beckoned again.

Florante could've sworn that she recognized him. No, wait. That didn't make any sense. Of course she'd recognize him. He was her classmate, Florante.

No, no. What he meant was that her eyes glowed the same way it did in his dreams.

Her look of recognition wasn't because she recognized him as Florante. It was because she recognized him as Archangel Gabriel.

He had promised in his last dream that he'd forget about everything, but here he was breaking that promise once more. Even though honestly, he couldn't help it.

How Florante surmised all that from a simple glare, he couldn't tell you.

Or maybe he was just in denial. His constant staring must've finally got on Jenny's nerves, leading to her glaring at him.

Lonzo whispered, "Is your girlfriend staring back at you too?"

Florante palmed his face. His cheeks felt hot to the touch. "She doesn't look angry or anything, does she?"

"I don't know," came Estanislao's unhelpful answer. "Maybe stop being a weirdo and talk to her like a normal person?"

"Stop calling her my girlfriend then," Florante begged. "She's probably the only friend I got in class. You'll just weird her out."

"Sure thing, buddy. I'm just teasing," relented Alonzo.

"…So she's not angry?"

"Ask her yourself, dumbass!" Lonzo put Florante in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over the top of his noggin. "Jeez, no wonder you're bullied so much! Grow a spine!"

***

Mustering up the courage to talk to Jenny, Florante sat beside her and talked. Like the good ol' days when he, her, and Laura first met.

He asked Jenny without looking at her, "Where have you been?"

She thought for a minute. "Oh, around."

The coy answer made him second-guess himself. If he referenced his dreams about her in any way, would she confirm them as real?

No, that was stupid. "Were you sick?" he asked.

"Maybe a little. Like you. I'm fine now, thank you for asking," she answered.

"Oh. That's good to hear. I'm glad," he said.

"It's been cold lately, hasn't it?" she said. "No wonder everyone is getting sick nowadays."

"Yeah. But sunny other times. Like the weather's bipolar or something," he said.

"I know, right? Like it couldn't make up its mind," she said.

"Did you get contacts?" he then blurted out unthinkingly.

Puzzled by his unexpected question, she answered, "No. I'm wearing glasses."

"Oh yeah," he mumbled, wishing the earth would part and swallow him whole. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

She shrugged with a confused smile. "It's the same eyes I've always had."

Man, what was this conversation even about? Talk about awkward.

After a slight pause, Jenny asked, "…Sooo were the rumors true? Did you or didn't you draw Laura Reyes nude?" while adjusting her large, bug-like spectacles in a way that honestly only she could pull off.

"What? NO! I didn't…" Florante raised his voice, but he then trailed off lamely. His voice sounded sad, even to him.

He soldiered on though, pleading his innocence. "I-I was doing a rough sketch! Can you tell her that it wasn't a nude sketch but a rough sketch? The guys who told her it was nude were just messing with me!"

"Really? Show me," she said before taking out a pencil and notebook from out of her purse.

"What? You mean right now?" he asked.

"Why not?" she countered.

Why not indeed. So Florante recalled the anatomy lessons of Art Class and did rough sketches of what initially looked like a naked woman. He then added details like a blouse, skirt, glasses, and shoes to the full-body sketch.

"See? It was all a big misunderstanding!" he said, only for his jaw to go slack as a blushing Jennifer beside him told him, "I didn't realize you were going to use me as an example!"

He looked down and sure enough, he ended up drawing Jenny. "I-I can explain…!"

"I'm just glad you didn't turn it into a nude portrait! My boobs aren't that big!"

"OF COURSE NOT! To do that is sexual harassment!" he yelped, which made Jenny laugh.

He felt his heart twinge at the sight for sore eyes. Her giggles sounded soft and enchanting. Like wind chimes on a gentle summer breeze.

"I was joking, Flor!" She looked at his sketch of her. "Wow. Not bad."

"Eh, it looks a bit cartoony," he said, criticizing his own sketch. "Like an anime sketch. I could've done better."

"Just accept the compliment, you dork!" she chided.

Florante chuckled at that. "You know what? You're an okay gal, Jenny."

This made the both of them go silent. That line was what he said to Jenny before he proceeded to massacre the rest of his classmates.

"You're an okay gal, Jenny. Don't go to school today. For your own good."

A flood of memories—well, false memories that didn't happen anywhere else but his dream—almost overwhelmed Florante.

Him becoming a roaring typhoon of vengeance against his bullies before facing off against an angelic Laura. His tandem fight with Jenny against a spaghetti monster, where he discovered she was also an angel.

His visit to her apartment. Their confrontation with Mammon. Him managing to defeat the crawling chaos. None of that happened yet Florante remembered them all as if they did.

***

The group went their separate ways. Florante was about to head off to the library himself, killing time like always until the late afternoon bell rung for their next class.

However, what Jenny told him before he went off gave him pause.

She looked him in the eye and said, "You promised."

…What?

Before he could speak, she invaded his personal space and said, "Don't break your promise."

She then turned around and left, as though she didn't just say something cryptic and disturbing to him.

"Jenny…!"

"Hmmm? What is it, Flor?"

He hesitated answering. Did he just imagine her say, "Don't break your promise"? Was she gaslighting him? He then said, "I'm okay with it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm okay with you calling me Flor."

Jenny tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Okay."

His mind spun from confusion. Had he made up the whole exchange before just now? She acted perfectly polite. Like the conversation they had about promises and breaking them never happened.

Or maybe she meant some other promise he couldn't remember breaking?

He had half the mind to believe that the entire exchange was from his own imagination. It was his subconscious mind taking the form of Jenny, warning him not to pursue the madness that was his questionable dreams.

Because the minute he started believing that everything he'd dreamed up until that point was real, that was when Jennifer would give him the same disgusted stare Laura gave him when she had rejected him.

Maybe he really was going out of his mind, dreaming up scenarios where Jenny was his Damsel in Distress and he served as her super-powered Knight in Shining Armor, rescuing her from eldritch abominations and whatnot.

Just like Mammon said. Maybe Mammon was no demon. Instead, Mammon was his common sense. What was left of his sanity.

On one hand, he should be glad all this murder, mayhem, and destruction using fantastical or cosmic powers happened merely in his dreams instead of irreversible reality.

They served as his own Ctrl + Z or Magic Slate that undid what could've been permanent mistakes.

On the other hand, he also wished he'd have dreamed up being a social pariah and the butt of everyone's jokes in Fatima High. He wanted to redo that part of his life as well.

Then maybe once he woke up every morning, he'd instead be greeted with friends and cheers as well as belong in a social circle not rejected by the rest of the school campus.

Undoing the destruction of a shadow monster or sentient Italian dish wasn't a problem Florante could relate to. His inability to form healthy relationships with his peers was.

Hell, if only he could Ctrl + Z his entire childhood. Now that was an even cooler superpower than the Light Array.

"…Galang? Florante Galang?" someone called out to him in the middle of his introspection, thus interrupting his inner monologue.

Who was it? Who dared interrupt the great and powerful avatar of Archangel Gabriel?

Oh. It was him. One of his bullies. Not one of his worst bullies, mind you, but one of his bullies nonetheless.

His bully that used to be his friend before he went with the flow of the rest of the class.

His personal Judas Iscariot. The Brutus to his Julius Caesar: Isaiah Pascual.

The guy whose head Florante blew apart in the murderous fever dream, to be exact.

***

The two former friends kept talking and walking as they went to their late afternoon class.

"Florante," said a sweaty Isaiah, who rubbed his hands together.

"Pascual," said Florante, who wrinkled his nose.

"Hey, buddy. Been a while since we've talked, right?" said Pascual with a hesitant, crooked smile.

"Yeah, I guess." Galang shrugged, eyeing the door to the classroom. "What do you want?"

On the asthmatic's part, he probably smiled the same disingenuous smile as well to keep up appearances of politeness. What did this snake in the grass want anyway?

Florante vaguely remembered Isaiah as one of his few classmates that stood by him when he was being teased by his bullies.

Up until it Isaiah started getting teased himself, so he threw Florante under the bus to save himself.

Galang's first impression of Pascual when they were still cool with each other was that he had the vibes of a Golden Retriever. Or maybe even a sea otter, with that big nose of his.

Once inside the classroom, Florante went straight to his table, with half the mind to ignore Isaiah altogether. He merely half-listened to him at any rate.

"…Look, maybe we can continue this later. Okay, bro?"

"Sure. Whatever."

Grimacing, Galang remembered the swift kick to the testicles that Pascual gave him in his dream, thus "forcing" him to blow his head apart with his dream powers.

Should Florante condemn the guy for something he did in a dream though? No, he condemned Isaiah more for his betrayal of him in real life.

Regardless, the students settled down for Biology class for their section's Science subject that afternoon.

His Science teacher was a chirpy twenty-something named Ms. Isabelle "Belle" Del Mundo. The tall, slim teacher had a signature faint, singsong voice that was hard to miss. She sounded like a character straight from "Sesame  Street". Or "Batibot".

Ms. Del Mundo walked around the room, took attendance, and then had them move single file to the laboratory room at the second floor.

From there, Pascual kept following Florante.

"Gerry and the others finally let up on you, huh?" was the topic he chose to break the ice with. Goodness gracious.

Florante grunted. "More or less."

"Glad to hear it, bro."

'Uh-huh. I bet,' Florante thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Galang ended up with the reputation of being a snitch in exchange for his bullies to leave him alone, but at least now their bullying wasn't as bad as it could've been. He didn't appreciate the passive-aggressive digs though.

He also didn't want to have this talk with Isaiah. He instead wished he could've paired up with Jenny as lab partners. To talk to her more.

To ensure to her that he wasn't going to break his promise. No wait, the real Jenny didn't care about that. It was the Jenny in his insane mind that told him to lay off the daydreams and fever dreams once and for all.

When they got to the lab, Ms. Del Mundo had them separate themselves in pairs.

This was usually Florante's worst nightmare since nobody in class wanted to pair up with him, the social pariah. However, he hoped after his interactions with the real Jenny that they'd pair up this time.

However, instead, he got stuck with Isaiah, who insisted on being his lab partner for the day. What was up with him today?

Their Biology teacher then proceeded to distribute a microscope and a box of slides on each table. The room buzzed with conversation as they prepared the materials.

As Florante and Isaiah worked as lab partners like the good ol' days, when they were still buddies, the latter continued his small talk.

For his part, Galang kept his eyes away from the lab doors, doodling all sorts of sketches on the back of his Science notebook. Like a short comic of Freeza and Goku battling it out at Planet Namek.

"Wow. You just sketched all that out without thinking, huh?" said Isaiah.

"Yep. Just like before," said Florante without looking up from his notebook.

"You never change," said Pascual, which almost offended Galang.

Florante groaned. Instead of hearing the musical voice of Jenny, he instead got stuck with his former best friend's nasally whine. Stuck with the backstabber who saved himself from a social suicide pact and got himself new friends.

Well, maybe his new friends could help him out with whatever problem he was having!

In the corner of his eye, he saw that Jenny and Laura had actually paired up as lab partners instead, with them seated to the desk right in front of the teacher's table.

Laura looked stunning as usual—a showstopper for sure—but Jenny stole the show as far as being the apple of Florante's eye was concerned.

Her side profile remained friendly and open even when looked at from behind, her mouth open with a slight smile on her flawless lips.

Her glasses framed her dazzling features beautifully, like there'd be something missing without them.

She had a pretty nice figure from Florante's vantage point too. Both she and Laura had shapely hips, thin waists, and uh, wide hips that couldn't be hidden even by the folds of their checkered skirts.

He palmed his red face at having such lewd thoughts about his classmates.

"Ah, so you've moved on from Laura Reyes to Jenny Tolentino, huh?" asked Pascual, which got on Galang's nerves.

"Shut up," he murmured, which made Isaiah laugh.

"Bingo! I was right, wasn't I?"

Florante sighed. "…Is it that obvious?"

"Bro, you couldn't stop staring at her empty desk when she was absent last week and now you couldn't stop staring at her when she finally got back."

Jeez. Florante should be more careful and not wear his heart on his sleeve.

If his other bullies caught wind of this, he'd never hear the end of it. Or maybe they already knew and were biding their time to use this info against him. Dammit.

Thankfully, the soft-spoken Ms. Del Mundo began class at that very moment.

Florante tried to focus on her words as she explained to the class what they'd be doing today in the lab.

The slides inside the box were out of order. The lab partners had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the different mitosis phases they represented then label them one by one.

They couldn't use their Biology books. In 20 minutes, she'll be coming around to check who got everything right.

Galang already studied (crammed on) this topic and Pascual, if memory served him correctly, had the lower grades and lazier study ethic (work ethic for studying) between the two of them.

So by his calculations, he'd be doing most of the work while his partner did most of the talking.

"Prophase," said Florante after studying one of the slides he magnified to 40X via the microscope briefly.

"Say, Florante…"

"What? Just down 'Prophase' for the first slide, Pascual," he ordered as he slid another slide under the microscope.

Isaiah did what he was told, letting Galang do most of the work. He didn't even bother double-checking.

"How much do you remember about that stormy night?"

"Anaphase," Florante murmured. "What stormy night? I don't remember any storms."

"How to you spell that?" Pascual asked, and Florante obliged him.

"A-N-A-P-H-A-S-E. Anaphase."

"Okay, thanks."

"No problem."

After a brief pause, Pascual's voice went even quieter than before when he continued speaking. "The storm you caused. The one where you ran amok. You don't remember any of it?"

Florante blinked at that. Did he hear him right? No, he must not have. "Third slide please."

Pascual handed Florante the third slide and sighed. "So you don't remember, huh? I should've figured as much."

"What are you talking about?" asked Florante, feigning ignorance while his heart beat began rising in his chest. He then said, "Interphase," after glancing for a few seconds at the microscope.

"Enterphase?" asked Isaiah.

"No, 'Interphase' with a Letter 'I'. Still spelled with a 'phase'. P-H-A-S-E," clarified Florante, before probing, "…Well?"

Pascual wrote down the label and said, "It doesn't really matter if you don't remember." He chuckled. "Would you believe you blasted my face off with light bullets a few days ago? Like something out of a Sci-Fi or martial arts movie, man!"

Florante took his eye off of the microscope and snapped his head in attention towards Isaiah. He felt lightheaded after doing so.

The two were about done with the activity. At the corner of Florante's eye, he could see both Laura and Jenny were already finished with their own slides minutes ago.

The color from Pascual's own face drained the same way it did when facing off against an angrier Florante in his fever dream.

"Oh shit. You do remember, don't you?"

'No. No way. There's no way my dreams are real. There's no way I literally killed my bullies in my dreams, only to press 'Ctrl + Z' and 'Undo' what I did!'

"Susmaryosep," Florante Galang murmured under his breath, wishing he could "Ctrl + Z" this exchange just now.

***

To Be Continued…

Everyone wants to be able to just press Ctrl + Z on their proverbial keyboards in order to undo any careless mistake they've made, whether it's an errant brush stroke on MS Paint or a typographical error on MS Word.

However, reality doesn't work like that. You can't take back what a careless thing you've said a few seconds ago that may or may not end friendships or break bonds. You can unbreak a dropped mug. You can't unspill spilled milk, no matter how hard you cry.

Farewell, Abdiel