#i am BEGGING for dialogue bro

[raptorladylover6969]

Absolutely and positively refuse to believe this is the woman behind the little whispers, and little breaths of air…(and possible dialogue if we ever get any)

…of this absolute menace who crawled out of hells deepest pits with no other intention than to wreck absolute havoc upon some group of young adults.

[nthspecialll]

Rockstar I am BEGGING you

PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE I need a cannon timeline over who did what when and where because I AM FUCKING CONFUSED SOMETIMES.

Firstly, Arthur Morgan's love life, did when Arthur talks about Eliza saying she was "just a kid" at nineteen, meaning he was most likely around that age too because he didn't think of her as a kid then. So he is 19 when he meets Eliza and from the dialogue you can have with Jack where Arthur compares jack and Isaac, we can assume Isaac was about 4 years old when he died.

So, does that mean they met in 1882? And then five years later they die, meaning 1887 and Arthur is 24? Cool, I can follow that far, BUT WHERE DOES MARY COME IN?? Listen he sounded like he fucking loved at least Isaac and I think man has a mourning period, I mean yes it was a one night stand but look at how respectful he is towards Mary, he wouldn't get over Eliza and Isaac in one night.

Now okay, let's give him a year or two to mourn and also to ya know, meet Mary and fall in love with her. So he is 26 now, cool, however-

BRO YOU DON'T LOOK 26! YOU LOOK YOUNG!

Okay, so let's turn it around, maybe he met Mary first, cool! It matches with the fact that he looks young in the picture, it matches with the fact that they didn't see one another for a long ass time, it matches with a lot! Oh maybe this is- NOPE! THIS IS NOT IT! Why? Well literally all of the girls (except Sadie) have an opinion on her!

Let's take Abigail who is 22 in rdr2 and joined the gang at around 1994, that means Arthur brought Mary to camp at least within the last five years?? But they hadn't talked since Mary got married?? Did Arthur just have a one night stand with Eliza while also being with Mary or something?? Is that it??

Also this picture??

I mean if this is the whole gang at that time does it mean Abigail was the first of the girls to join and Tilly did in fact not join when 12??

BRO I NEED TO KNOW THIS SHIT!! ROCKSTAR GIVE ME A CANNON TIMELINE AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRSSSS

[iszaranothere]

Dialogue prompts but they're things the GameGrumps have said

Struggling to start your scene? Having trouble writing dialogue? Don't worry, I've got you fam. I even sorted them into two catagories, a clean one and a more vulgar one, for your pleasure. If you end up using one of them, by all means tag me in the post, I'd love to see it.

Clean quotes

"And then I fired, and then I missed."

"The bananas has gone bad!"

"BECAUSE HE'S A GREAT KISSER! …Is what I've been told."

"I don't understand why the Chinese don't just use forks and spoons."

"Shutting down. Rebooting."

"There's so many places that aren't Andorra!"

"Jennifer dumped me."

"Did you point? Did you point? DID YOU POINT?!"

"Today is football."

"I'm gonna lay face-down on the radiator."

"Just what the heck is going on here?"

"UNAVOIDABLE CHIN MOVE!"

"The carbuncle ate itself."

"At age six I was born without a face."

"Great to see you again! You must die."

"I'm grapes!"

"Why did my dad birth me?"

"That's crazy. Especially since… who cares."

"I'm the video game boy! I'm the one who wins!"

"Bienvenue powerbottoms!"

"MY DAD WORKS AT NINTENDO!"

"With great confidence comes great wonfidence."

"Get bigger hands!"

"MORE ONION PLEASE."

"Why do I have to suffer in this meat prison?"

"That baby is not a baby, that is a jelly bean with a face."

"I HAS BRO! DO YOU HAS BRO?"

"JUST SOMETHING HAPPEN PLEASE."

Vulgar quotes

"I mean look at the way he slurps up his soup, what an asshole."

"Don't believe me? Look at my resume! Thirty years experience in jacking off!"

"MY DICK'S FALLEN OFF."

"If you shit in a bowl of rice crispies, do they go snap crackle poop?"

"Who needs a blue coin when you got a fucking mental breakdown coming in the back of your head?"

(sing-songy) "My asshole burns 🎶"

"I'm gonna pre dude."

"It's Clifford the big red stab wound."

"You think Sonic shits?"

"What's more in the spirit of Christmas than eating ass?"

"I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."

"I feel like I just came back from a mythical creature bukkake."

"Plump, sweet and begging for cream!"

"Isn't it weird how at least once a day your hand is touching your asshole?"

"GOD! IT'S SO HARD TO FUCKING FUCK!"

"I was the greatest load my dad ever shot."

"You think I came out of the pussy drawing fucking Mozart?"

"Oh, bump off you bumpin' grasshoe."

"I would fuck anything on this screen, including the animals and the bicycle."

"The only thing I bust are rhymes and nuts."

"Am I about to see your skyward sword?"

"WE WON'T LET THOSE FUCKERS TAKE THIS LAND!"

"I fucked a cantaloupe once."

[rmbunnie]

I'm reading A Lonely Place of Dying and Alfred latching immediately onto Tim is NASTY work. Tim shows up and is like "I never aimed to be Robin! I mean I did karate my whole life to emulate Robin and just so happen to have sought you out and grabbed this costume in my size out from that case and really you should be calling me Robin just for now and let me come with you as Robin but I never dreamed it would specifically be ME being Robin. You have a lovely house and home btw :) Now go back to being 10." And Dick's understandably like "No I am a grown man now who are you" and Bruce is not here for this one, but later on is like "You aren't Robin, you're some kid dressed up like my dead son." But Alfred?

IMMEDIATELY Alfred is implying Dick was trying to subtly ask Tim to be Robin (simply not true in in NTT 61, when the implication is made, although he changes his mind in Batman 442) and that Bruce should be grateful for this young man's profound bravery and immense natural skill and maybe show him a few pointers or something idk we'll see :) Like let's be clear, the idea that Tim didn't want to be Robin is simply not part of this story outside of like two lines of dialogue where he's like "oh I didn't consider it could be me!" after which he immediately goes "Wow so you ARE gonna let me be Robin right?" the second he sees the opportunity. The guy essentially makes himself Robin once Dick makes it clear he isn't gonna be. Dick tells Tim nobody should be at first (until he changes his mind) but is ignored because Tim doesn't get why and goes with what he understands, his own stance.

I'm of the opinion that the whole "Tim understands that being Robin is an arduous task full of suffering from the start and chooses to bravely yet sadly martyr himself for the cause" thing I see sometimes is strongly disproven, at least in the beginning of his Robin career, by his "Batman NEEDS a Robin (to love and care for and to watch out for him in return :) )" line of reasoning, his subsequent willingness for Anybody to be Robin whether or not it was him (unless he was consciously okay with other children suffering for his benefit which I find really hard to believe,) and his active glee at anything involving being Robin and persistent smiling pursuit of Doing So against Batman's strong disapproval, because he hasn't officially said no (he did several times, but you can't blame a kid for being excited.) Like, I think he said he never dreamed of being Robin just because having a kid come in begging to replace Batman's dead son because it was a personal aspiration would be extraordinarily rude and arrogant and they wanted people to like this one. He was NOT in any way adverse they just couldn't make him THAT presumptuous, and he is by nature of what he's doing already moderately so.

But say it was true, that Tim was actively opposed to being Robin? Alfred would be pushing this shit HARD onto this thirteen year old kid like what the fuck bro. And "From what Master Richard said, he follows your orders." is HEINOUS but let's not get into that.

[luvknow]

after her | yang jeongin

summary: a lonely yang jeongin, fresh from a break-up, finds what it means to be happy again while living with his best friend in the big city. you fall victim to his signs of affections, struggling to define if he’s emptying what’s leftover from his relationship or if they’re truly meant for you. you’d live through the endless heartache if it meant he would smile again. characters: female reader x yang jeongin & stray kids ensemble. genre: romance, friends-to-lovers, hurt with comfort, happy ending. additional warnings: alcohol consumption, university party, some mature dialogue and situations, song lyrics. wc: 11.2k

Jeongin placed the last of his boxes in the living room of his new place you two shared. While you were away at work, he employed an off-duty Minho and Jisung with promises of pizza and beer as payment.

A low whistle escaped Jisung’s lips as his eyes scanned the condo. “Pretty decent for the price in the middle of the city.”

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brows. “It helps that _____ is a functioning adult.”

“You’ll get there in a couple of months,” Minho patted his head. “Relax while you can before your job starts. The adult world is not kind.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Jisung shrugged. “Find a hobby. Adopt a pet. Read a book. Don’t worry about anything! What more can a bachelor want?”

“Go to the club, hop on a dating app,” Minho suggested before Jisung hit him.

The first box Jeongin opened was one he wasn’t supposed to. On top, it wasn’t labeled, but on the side in big bold letters was, ‘TRASH. BURN. DONATE. WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT OPEN!!!!!’ On the top layer of stuff was a framed picture of him and his ex-girlfriend under the cherry blossom trees, her eyes curled like sparkling moon crescents and him looking at her like she was his whole world. Beneath were various memorabilia from blind box trinkets to old sweaters of his that still smelled like her perfume. As his heart cracked a bit more, he flopped on the couch face-first, groaning muffled by your decorative pillows.

Minho hit Jisung back. “I told you not to bring that one in!”

“He took it from me before I knew what box it was!”

The two were left unloading the Rent-a-Truck alone as their youngest friend tried to not let too many tears ruin the fabric of the couch. They’d give him a pass this time, but the next warranted multiple rounds of drinks. Jeongin’s energy bled from his body and was absorbed into the cushions, gluing his cheek down until a permanent imprint of the weaved fabric formed on his skin. His eyes stared blankly at the door after his personal mover-bros left and until you walked in, home from a long day of work. A total of six hours where he didn’t move, barely breathing, hoping evolution would kick in and he’d be able to live his life photosynthesizing.

You smiled sympathetically at the damage before you; a pile of boxes, untouched take-out, and an unmoving boy with redness around his eyes that stared off into nothingness.

“Hey, bud,” you began awkwardly. “How’re ya doin’?”

You received a lazy groan in response. He turned over to face the back of the couch, unwilling to elaborate further.

Jeongin called you last Sunday at 2:13 AM. Your first feeling was irritated, as he had better be in some deep shit to be waking you up at this hour on a work night. What you got was worse. Way worse. In a fit of tired, breathless, chest-squeezing sobs and snot-filled sniffles, Jeongin confessed that his girlfriend of just over a year had broken up with him. It was a shitty time to do so, as he was in the middle of signing for a lease after she begged him to move to the city to be closer to her. Luckily, the leasing agency was sympathetic and he went forward with canceling the signing.

The conversation that led him here in your home occurred after he was able to breathe through his tears, wondering what he was supposed to do with his new job contract, and it went like this:

“You’re already mentally prepared to move to the city. Why not do it anyway?”

“What’s the point?” he had asked with a voice so tired of crying. “There’s no reason for me to be there anymore.”

“I’m here,” you replied, offended. “You get to hang out with the most important person in your entire life -”

“By default.”

“I’m going to give you a pass on that because you’re hurting, but you called me, remember?” you had scoffed. “The city will be good for you. Better food, better drinks, things to do, people to meet. Things to distract you, y’know?”

“I can’t do this alone.” There was a long pause before the sniffling and sobs filled the silence on the other end. “If I live alone, I might never leave my apartment.”

Without hesitation, you had said, “Come live with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Come live here with me! We’ll turn my office into your bedroom, and voila; casa de _____ and Jeongin.”

“I can’t do that to you. You worked so hard for that place to be your haven.”

“You are my haven,” you had emphasized. “Let me be yours, too.”

A short chuckle on his end. “Cornball.”

Progress was far from linear and the hardest point was ascending from zero. Jeongin was in the negatives. Probably because he had opened a box full of outdated signs of love he and Sieun had given each other the past year and two months. Your face wrinkled in disgust at the sight of her glowing face in a heart-shaped frame. And Jeongin had called you the cornball… Maybe you were a certified hater, but you had to get rid of this box of trash now.

When you bent to pick it up, he gripped your wrist and stopped you.

“Don’t,” he muffled into the pillows.

“Keeping this isn’t good for you.”

“Neither will throwing it away.”

“How about we compromise,” you sighed. “Let’s store it in my closet until you’re ready to toss it. Out of sight, out of mind.”

His answer was letting go of you and allowing you to touch the most tender parts of his heart to store away in your dark, cold, lifeless but stylish closet for it to wither away. You didn’t want any parts of her near your room at all, but you kept muttering, ‘This is for Jeongin. This is for him because you love him, for some reason,’ as a reminder.

You’d repeat that reminder maybe ten times a day for the past week for stupid shit like him not washing his dishes, not putting the toilet seat down, drinking all your specialty alcoholic beverages you liked to save for after-work woes, but what pushed you over the edge was the empty stash of your favorite snack.

“Ok, I’m done!” you yelled. After a long day of Teams meetings and smiling at sleazy men twice your age, all you wanted was a little treat! A little snack! But when you opened your pantry, you were left with an empty box. He couldn’t even throw the damn box away!

You opened the door to his room where he sat in his gaming chair, yelling at his bros on Discord. He paid no mind to the noise, since his gaudy headphones blocked everything and likely bruised his eardrums. So when he couldn’t hear you calling his name, you went up to the microphone.

“Sorry, boys, Jeongin has some chores to do!” You heard a muffle of ‘boos’ from Chan and Felix on the other end before unplugging his set-up.

“What the hell, _____! That was a ranked game!” he whined.

“You!” you seethed, grabbing the remnants of your snack bags before chucking the empty box at his face. “You gluttonous squirrel-faced stupid, stupid boy!”

“Ooh, yikes. I know that tone.”

“You couldn’t bother texting me that we were out?!”

“They’re just snacks, we can buy more.”

“We, who!? Who’s paying the mortgage here? Who’s the one with an actual job at the moment?!”

“I start next month, ok?! And you agreed to a prorated rent because of that!”

“Being jobless doesn’t give you the right to live in my home like a slob! There are responsibilities for adulthood! There are chores and rules for living under my roof!”

Jeongin had this stupid face he’d put on to get whatever he wanted. It worked with Sieun, and sadly worked for you, too. He wheeled himself over on his new four hundred dollar chair (“For ergonomics!” he had argued) and pulled you in between his legs. His arms wrapped around the back of your thighs and his chin rested on your stomach. The stupid, adorable, troublemaker face was up-turned brows, pouting lips, and eyes that twinkled from the lighting above.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “It just… feels nice to be taken care of right now.”

Ugh. Maybe you were being too harsh. A week’s worth of annoyance was nothing compared to a week’s worth of trying to glue back pieces of his heart together when they kept falling apart. Or maybe that was the spell he put you under with his dreamy eyes talking. You couldn’t think straight with your constricting office wear on.

You kissed your teeth. Your hand grabbed a chunk of his curly brown mop of hair and pushed him off of you. “You stink. Shower and get ready; you’re buying me new snacks at the grocery store.”

“But I don’t need to go grocery shopping.”

“You have one pack of instant ramen left; yes, you do.”

–

One of your first memories with Jeongin was the day before you both started secondary school. The last day of summer was spent under the stars on a trampoline in his backyard with empty cans of cola scattered out on the grass. Your heads touched while bodies were oriented in the opposite direction, semi-Spiderman style.

You were the first to voice what you feared most. “Do you think things are going to change?”

He shook his head adamantly. “Never.”

“Nothing is ever non-zero.”

“Must you nerdify everything?”

“It’s not on purpose. I can’t help it.”

“Except you could.” Jeongin sighed, whether out of disappointment or enjoying the feeling of the cool night air, you had long forgotten. His black, too-short-for-a-bowl-cut pin-straight hair poked your ears whenever he turned and knocked his head against yours.

“Ow,” you whined. “What?”

He pointed to the sky. “See that?”

“Stars.”

“Do you recognize the constellation, smartass?” Astronomy wasn’t your strong suit. “Scorpio and Lupus.”

You shrugged. “Who do you think would win in a fight: ten scorpions or one wolf?”

“That’s not the point of my question,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But the correct answer is ten scorpions.”

“What’s the point, then? Of anything, really?”

He pointed to the sky again. “Things will change only when the stars do.”

“Apocalypse-style?”

“Exactly. When they do, it’ll be the end of the world.”

You giggled, tilting your head closer to his. “Cornball.”

“What is a cornball, anyways? Like, a chicken nugget made of corn?”

“Genetically-modified corn in the shape of a ball.”

At thirteen, you both thought these conversations made you comedic, thought-provoking geniuses. They were typical teenage nonsensical word-smithing that’d later evolve into witty adult assholery, but they were ones you’d cherish ‘til the end of time.

“Never change, _____ _____.”

“You, too, Yang Jeongin.”

Tonight, the night sky was as clear as the night before secondary school. It’s been a couple of weeks since Jeongin moved in and progress was there, but it was slow. Some days, he’d spend all day in bed under the covers and you’d have to force-feed him sustenance and flip him over to prevent bed sores. Some days he spent the entire day deep cleaning the tile grout with a toothbrush until his knees were purple. The worst nights were like tonight, where you’d come home to an empty bottle of some mystery brown liquor you didn’t remember purchasing and him passed out on the couch.

It was exhausting for this short amount of time. It was a rollercoaster of emotions and outbursts and constantly having to take his phone away from doing something stupid like calling or texting her. This wasn’t the Jeongin you were used to; you wanted the one who sang tunes and trot jingles, the one who burned mac ‘n cheese on accident, the one who’d wave to little kids when you were out together. The unmoving body was just a shell of him, and just as he struggled putting the pieces of himself back together, you struggled holding the ones he was able to find in place.

You lifted his head by his curls and plopped it back on your lap after taking a seat.

“Careful,” he groaned. “There’s precious real estate up here.”

You didn’t speak, distracting yourself by playing with his hair. His eyes were bloodshot and cheeks stained with drool and salty tears. Sniffles filled the silence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, words a bit slurred. “I don’t like when you’re quiet.”

“Ask yourself that question,” you replied, mouth full of salt.

“You’re mad at me.”

“I care about you.”

“You’re mad because you care,” he nodded, understanding, or at least pretending to. “I care about you, too.”

Caring wasn’t enough. No amount of love and tenderness from you could replace the one Sieun gave him, and that was evident. How were you supposed to hold him together when she was his reason? You could only do so much, and your best was never enough.

He pointed to the ceiling. “Do you think Scorpio and Lupus are out tonight?”

“It’s cloudy.”

“Oh. Is it?” he sighed. “But they’re still there?”

“They’ll always be there.”

“Together?”

“Together. Forever, of course.”

“How do you know that?”

Was he asking with underlying intention or drunken oblivion? “I just do.”

Jeongin snorted. “Boooo.”

“Boo, you!”

“Ugh, stop moving!” His lips pursed as he rolled off of you. “Nope. I need to throw up.”

You followed him as he crawled into the bathroom, hunching over his toilet bowl. You held his hair back for a bit before realizing you could tie it back.

“It’s so long now,” you admired while tying back his front pieces.

“Sieun hated it,” the toilet echoed.

“I liked it. Very ‘bad boy’. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Yeah. She’s stupid, right?”

“So stupid.”

“Yeah! And so bossy!” He paused, gagging into the toilet. “Bossier than you! Can you believe that’s possible?!”

“I’m not bossy, I just know what I like when I like it and how I like it,” you patted his back a little too harshly this time, “nothing bossy about that.”

“And it’s a wonder why you’re single.”

A sharp pang pierced your chest. Your relationship status was a touchy subject. It’s not that you preferred to be single, but your job was mentally demanding and sometimes required long hours past sunset. It wouldn’t be fair to your partner when your life was devoted to your career and climbing the corporate ladder. Dates were few, and not too far in between, but none of the prospects were worth the trouble when half of them expected you to pay the whole bill when they found out your occupation.

You loved love. It was beautiful, it was kind, it meant always feeling whole. Of course you wanted to be in love. Of course you wanted to touch, to kiss, to always be intertwined with someone. Life was young, and there was time, but the shroud of loneliness grew longer and larger as the days passed. Suffice to say, your single status hit a nerve.

You patted his back hard enough for him to gag one last time. “Good luck not puking your guts out.”

“No, wait -” but you had already shut the door.

It was the kind of topic that elicited a long, hot, reflective shower until the water ran cold. Were you one of those working women who were doomed by capitalism to serve as a corporate slave until you could withdraw from your 401k at fifty nine and a half? To live a mediocre life and settle down with a five-rated coworker for the sake of reproduction and contributing to lowering the birthrate? To settle for the mundane and predictable? That wasn’t the _____ you knew. At the peak of your young life, when did owning your first place meant that it was the beginning of the end?

When you walked out of the steam cloud, Jeongin was buried beneath your duvet, staring at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the tired, but still awake city. When he first moved in, he mentioned how jealous he was of your nice bedsheets, and you wondered, in that moment, how many times had he napped in your bed without you knowing. Annoyed, but willing, you crawled in behind him, too tired to argue.

He wiggled back, making sure your bodies touched, though he wanted to keep looking out. “Being single isn’t bad… right?”

Was it bad? No. “I like my alone time.”

“But isn’t it lonely?”

It’s never ending. “Only a little.”

“Even when I’m here?”

Especially now, more than ever. “Just a little.”

“What’s your metric of ‘little’?”

Astronomical. “Like a pinch of salt.”

His breathing slowed, body ready to shut down for the night and hopefully awaken before noon. He wrapped your arms around him, begging for a hug, a bit of human connection, something to satiate the pain of wanting to feel whole with someone again. When you gave in, he melted into your touch. This feeling was familiar, but it wasn’t the same. You would never be her.

Just when you thought he fell asleep, you felt his chest jitter, suppressing a mouthful of sobs.

“I hate this,” he said, voice cracking, hands gripping your blankets while you played the big spoon.

You could only nod into the crevice between his wingspan. “I know.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Sometimes, there’s a reason; sometimes, there isn’t.”

“Then, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” you confirmed and squeezed him tighter. “People fall out of love all the time.”

“Isn’t that fucking terrifying?” he sobbed. “One day, you’re flying, high on life with someone you thought could make forever feel like a day. Next, they tell you they don’t love you anymore.”

“Love is complicated.”

“But it isn’t! When you know, you know. It just isn’t as complicated as many people make it seem. So, what? She knew she didn’t love me anymore? That’s it?”

Complicated isn’t only when someone who once lit up your life now felt like their own fire within fizzled in the darkness. It wasn’t waking up one morning and deciding that they stopped loving you. Complexity was built with intention and time, overthinking and self-reflection. It’s as complicated as math; despite the many ways you could achieve an answer, there was only one answer. Sieun wasn’t a bad person; in fact, you liked her for the time they dated. You figured despite all her might and the many times she tried, she couldn’t force herself to love him anymore. It’s not like she woke up one morning and thought, ‘I don’t love him anymore.’ It’s never just, ‘that’s it,’ as Jeongin claimed its simplicity.

Complicated is spending every moment of free time with someone who knew the deepest parts of you without letting the romantic feelings slip through the cracks. It was intending to confess and ruin a decade’s worth of bonds, all for it to stay hidden with your many secrets when he admitted to finally asking out the cute girl he met through a mutual friend of Jisung. It was saying, ‘I love you,’ to end a phone call while suppressing the ache in your chest as he’d say it to someone else the same evening.

To Jeongin, it was just that. Love. How could one make it so difficult? But to you, there were layers, and someone had to peel them back before you revealed the true nature of your heart. Because after this, after Jeongin was healed and you were left with no one to hold you together the way you had for him, you’d have grown an infinite number of layers to protect yourself. Your future partner would have a lot of work to do.

“Love is an organism. Organisms are complex. It comes in different forms and has different functions. When I say, ‘I love you,’ you think I mean, ‘I care for you,’ right?”

Jeongin didn’t answer. Verbally, at least. His leveled breathing and rhythmic chest rises told you he was fast asleep in a drunken stupor while you had contemplated your answer.

“Yes,” you sighed, snuggling closer, “you do.”

–

Most psychologists would agree that the stages of grief had an order to them. Jeongin, PhD in grief, would say otherwise. In the span of a single day, he’d go between as many as three of the stages. Lately, it was a cocktail of denial, depression, and anger. Today, there was only anger. The drawers would be shut a little too loudly, he’d chew his food a little too aggressively, and his volume and colorful language on Discord closely resembled a sailor.

“Where’s the damn support?!” he screamed into the mic.

“You said you’d be in Zone A!” you heard Jisung yell through his headset.

Jeongin didn’t bother with a response and hung up the call. After whipping his headset on his bed with the strength of a baseball pitcher, he ran a hand through his tangled mop and swore under his breath.

You leaned on his door frame. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

“You know what would make you feel better?” You drew a rectangle with your pointer fingers, then wiggled the rest in a wave of flames. Then, boom! Big boom!

“No.”

“Jeongin -”

“You said I could wait until I was ready.”

“I think you need to be ready now.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore about that stupid box in your stupid closet with all the stupid fucking shit in it!”

If there was one act you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone, even with a bond thicker than blood, it was raising their voice. You had barely lifted your hand to point an accusing finger at him the same way his mom would, when he shut his eyes and realized his grave mistake. He knew he fucked up when your eyebrows were raised in that, ‘what did you just say to me?’ manner. He was also regretting how much time you spent with his mom.

“... Maybe we should take the box out,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no shit. Grab the hammers.”

Two adult-sized adult-aged children in hoodies carrying a mysteriously heavy box and a couple of hammers at a public park past sunset was not one would describe as inconspicuous. Jeongin was far from ready to address the box, you realized, when you were forced to carry it all the way and he refused to look at it. Even when you prepared the garbage bag and shuffled through the contents, he avoided any sight of strawberry blond hair and scents of neroli and jasmine. Semi-slicked with sweat, you took the box to the top of the jungle gym and dragged the big baby up to meet it.

“You left the trash bag down there,” he noted.

You nodded. “Grab that picture frame.” The first one was the red one shaped like a heart. You tilted your chin overboard. “Slam it.”

“Like, on the ground?”

“Yup.”

“That’s not very nice... Why can’t we just throw it?”

“Because I can’t be sure you won’t dig through the dumpster and drag filth across my floors.”

“Who do you think I am?!”

“Break it with all your might!”  you demanded, pretending to be angry and Hulk-smashing on the stable platform. “Rah! Into the trash bag, though, please.”

“She gave this to me on our two-month-iversary. She said it was a symbol of her heart,” he reflected, gentle fingers wiping the dust that collected.

“And what did she do to yours?”

“Break it.”

“She stomped on it.”

“Yeah…”

“Crushed it!”

“Yeah…!”

“Stabbed it with a blunt butter knife!”

“Yeah!”

“And did it hurt?!”

“Like a bitch!”

“Rue the day!!”

“Rue the roux!!”

Someone’s hungry. “Yeah, sure!”

With a guttural scream passionate enough to elicit goosebumps, Jeongin chucked the heart frame into the trash bag that splayed on the cement. The plexiglass shattered into big chunks and the frame split in two, shards of wood scattering about. It was a picturesque and artistic display of anger and heartbreak, but you’d never admit how you admired the symbolism to Jeongin’s face.

“That felt good,” he panted.

“Yeah? Do this one,” you said, handing him a mug.

“We painted mugs to give to each other at one of those stores in the mall. She said I didn’t have enough pink things in my life, so pink would be her color for me.”

“Fuck the color pink!”

“I mean, I still like the color -”

“Innie, I’m giving free therapy right now and I need you to work with me,” you hurried him alone by rolling your arms.

“Ok, ok! Jeez. But even you look good in pink -”

“Jeongin!”

“Pink sucks…!” he admitted hesitantly before chucking it into the pile. A satisfying shatter of ceramic echoed into the cloudless night.

“Ooh, heartbreak ASMR,” you sang.

Jeongin pulled a pink lop bunny Sonny Angel, those naked baby blind box toys that will put you in crushing debt one day, from the pile of infinite junk. He twirled it in his hands carelessly. “Don’t you like these, too?”

It was a rarer, sought-out-by-collectors type. You and many others had fingers twitching over the overpriced pay button on the resale apps everyday. “No…” your voice cracked.

“How am I supposed to break this?”

“Pop its head off.”

“What?”

You pointed shakily to its cute, pink ears as it smiled innocently. Your hands pretended to yank apart the head from its body. “Decapitate it.”

Jeongin jumped at the low-effort strength it took, which masked your pained groan. There goes a hundred dollars. Then, he plucked away its appendages. You couldn’t bear to look when he tossed the innocent body parts. May you wish no ill will on any collector to ever witness such a murder.

The rest of the box was junk to a stranger, treasure to Jeongin. Things like concert tickets, an empty wine bottle, dried flowers, cologne, sweaters, and jewelry joined the garbage. The last piece was the final boss; a shadow box summary of everything they’d done in the past year. A collection of restaurant receipts, themed matches, movie tickets, polaroid pictures, and loving post-it notes of cheesy poems and ‘I miss yous’ were stabbed into the felt and protected by a thick cover of glass.

“I can’t,” Jeongin sighed, sharp eyes scanning through the memories. He shook his head. “I just can’t.”

“You know the ‘break for emergencies only’ thingies for the fire extinguishers?” you asked and pointed to the pink box. “This is an emergency.”

“She put so much time into this. Almost everything we’ve ever done is preserved… Just for her to throw it all away two months later.”

When he offered this perspective, perhaps your speech on love not being complicated was more introspective than universally accepted. Two months to know you stopped loving someone was not a long enough time. It took much longer than that to no longer be on the same page, or in the same stage of life, or, for fuck’s sake, fall for an affair partner, right? No matter what the answer was, it made you upset.

You could only offer an affectionate rub on his arm. “Do you want to save this for next time?”

Jeongin took an eternity to answer, as if he read every line of every receipt and every ticket or memorized the way she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s. Then, he pulled you to him in a side-hug.

“There won’t be a next time.”

The frame of the shadow box split by the seams and only cracked the glass. The felt board was kept intact, of course, save for a few loose polaroids. He wrapped his second arm around you in a full hug, resting his cheek atop your head as your bodies swayed with the wind, needing the comfort of his best friend to protect him in this very vulnerable moment.

“You ok?” you muffled into his chest. He smelled of vetiver.

“No,” he admitted confidently, “I hope I will be one day.”

“You will! You will.”

You two remained on the top of the jungle gym overlooking the twinkling skyline in each other’s arms. His fingers traced little shapes across your shoulder blades, some recognizable like stars and moons, others a choreography of squiggles. Your arms rested holding his lower back. In the quiet night, miraculously not in fear of being arrested, you could have fallen asleep right there.

Tonight, you witnessed no tears or any evidence of them. No pink cheeks, or stuffy nose, or bloodshot eyes. Progress was here for now, and though it was too early to celebrate, you’d both bask in the little victories.

“I’m so proud of you,” you encouraged.

“Really?” he hummed.

“Of course! Always.”

His throat bobbed, swallowing down emotions that threatened to escape. “It still hurts so much.”

“I know,” you agreed empathetically.

“But the destruction helped.”

“See?” you boasted. “Who’s always right?”

“_____’s always right,” he squeezed, “always right and always kind.”

“And always here for you.” No matter how painful it’d be.

The night ended with slow dancing under the stars. Hand-in-hand and the other his shoulder, you led the steps to the beat of his songs.

–

Jeongin found no comfort that was better than your bed. The second you left for work, just as the sun rose and tinted the condo in blood orange, he’d sneak in and crawl under your duvet. When the softness of linen and the weight of the feather down knocked him out hard and for the first time in a month, he was able to fall into a deep sleep and would make this his routine until work started. His body had never felt so refreshed, even before the break-up. It smelled like you; like cherries, cream, and tonka bean. A scent cocktail that was so warm and sexy it was like he was put under a spell.

When you were kids, your room wasn’t dirty, but it was cluttered after falling into the feminine urge to gather all things shiny and trinkety. Now, he noted, adulthood hadn’t knocked that part of your brain out while still developing your frontal lobe. You didn’t have as many rocks lying around anymore, but your decoration consisted of naked baby toys and other colorful vinyl blind boxes, music albums, movie posters, and pictures of your loved ones.

Jeongin had looked through every picture in your room about a thousand times already, but only had now noticed that he was in almost every single one. Some were just with you and your parents, but even many of those had him in it. He liked the ones in your younger years; going through the gross and oily phases of puberty, matching ice cream-stained camp t-shirts, teenage-year birthdays, and his favorite was the one from prom night. You wore the sparkliest, glitter-sheddinng, not-the-most-flattering silhouette of a gown that many other girls matched in different colors. But he was just as ridiculous; too small in his poorly-tailored suit, sleeves folded, loose matching tie, and a crooked boutonniere. You both refused to do the prom pose because, ew, touching. So, you dabbed instead. Double ick.

If there was a picture with Jisung, he was in it. Minho? With Jeongin. Your girlfriends? Jeongin photobombed it somehow. He may have ruined some of the compositions, but he was your Jeongin, how were you supposed to throw them away?

Jeongin’s parents once asked if he would consider marrying his best friend. Knowing them, they were serious. At the premature age of twenty, he had gagged at the idea of marriage. Not to you specifically, but tied down? Early into his prime years of bachelorhood? No, thanks.

Then, he met Sieun, and thought maybe marriage was meant for him after all. Forever with the one person you loved so dearly, what could be bad about that? But forever meant really forever, not just a few years, or a few decades, it meant ‘til death do you part and into the afterlife, if that was even real. Maybe that’s what scared her. The thought of Jeongin being her soulmate crushed her world; the thought of her not being his soulmate crushed his. So, now he was back to square one, and he’d rather rot in your bed than make any progress.

Snuggled deep in between your plushies and pillows, he held above him a picture of you on your birthday. You were sitting next to him in front of your cake and had buttercream smudged on your nose while he was bent backwards in an evil cackle. He replayed the memory in his mind. You weren’t mad, but you wanted revenge, and shortly after had also smeared some under his nose in a stylish mustache.

In bed, he couldn’t help but snicker. In between sessions of handheld video games, he’d shuffle through more pictures until time passed by too quickly and the day was spent.

“Jesus -” you gasped, clutching your chest as you entered your room. “Yeah, sure, come in.”

“Thanks,” he sang half-heartedly.

“Have you been doing this every day?” He responded by shrugging. “He’s in pain, he’s hurting, and you love him…”

“I don’t like this picture of me.” Jeongin held up a recent one at a dinner party Hyunjin hosted for his condo-warming. His face was unprepared for the picture and his eyes were closed and mouth open. “I’m not even looking at the camera.”

“Yeah, but I look good,” you boasted.

He tossed it to the side of the bed in a pile of likeness dubbed, ‘throw these ones away’. “I like this one in front of the art museum, though.”

“I do, too.”

You hopped next to him on top of the covers, shuffling through the different piles he made. It was clear which ones he liked, disliked, and didn’t care for. “You don’t like this picture of me and Changbin on our graduation day?”

“Am I in it?”

“No?”

“Then, no.”

“You like this one, though?”

It was a solo picture of you on the same day. He found it hidden in a box of other pictures that were either blurry or of you alone at special events or academic and career achievements. You wore your gown and held your cap that was decorated with plastic jewels that spelled, ‘So Done with this B.S.’, high above your head with the brightest smile on your face. Around your neck was a necklace that he got you for your graduation gift: a petite padlock on a simple chain from one of those boutique brands all the girls liked.

This was one of the most important days of your life. You were happy, sunny, and beautiful. Of course he liked this one.

“Meh,” he shrugged. “I guess you look all right in that one.”

You spent the night in bed recalling stories and social media posts of times past with oily take-out from the corner restaurant downstairs. The quiet weeknight was livened by your giggles and ugly snorts and Jeongin couldn’t remember the last time you two did something like this. It lasted until it was too late to care to kick him out of your bed and you both fell asleep covered in film and prints.

If forever meant forever with you, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

–

Clubbing was a past time that Jeongin probably shouldn’t partake in due to his borderline alcoholism, but when it was for Jisung and Felix’s wombo-combo birthday bash (their words, if you’d even call them such), no one was safe from the heavy pour of Hennessey or bottom-shelf tequila down one’s throat. The weather was still appropriately warm to show off skin, and both you and your roommate took advantage of that, claiming that it was still hot-girl summer and this would be the best time to show off how perfectly fine everything was.

Jeongin rested his chin on your bare shoulder as you stared into the mirror. He had shown his affection more in a physical form after the destruction of his romantic paraphernalia. You should probably set some boundaries… Next time, maybe.

“You might as well go topless,” he teased, poking at your skin-tight top.

His touch tickled and your body stupidly reacted to it more sensitively than any other man who once touched you. “I’m sure you’d like that.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, only nuzzled his curls deeper into the crook of your neck. He styled it in the half-ponytail way you both came to love and work all black, sparkles of silver and pearls adorning his neck. Just as you had barely-there clothing, as did him, exposing hard-earned results of his efforts in the gym. His daytime clothes of soft linens and cottons dyed in innocent shades of blues and oranges matched his aura more than this edgy alter-ego that came out in the presence of alcohol. Soft Jeongin would be in a deep sleep tonight.

“Pearls?” you scoffed. “You slut.”

“Too much?”

“No, but you’re certainly sending the, ‘I’m single and very much looking,’ signal.”

“Perfect!” he shrugged. “When was the last time you went to a pregame, anyways?”

“When did you turn twenty-one?”

“Ok, grandma.”

You threw your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry I am a working woman.”

Skin touched more skin when his arm hooked your neck and dragged you to the door. The closer the taxi approached the condo, Jeongin’s hands more frequently wiped on his pants.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” he asked, sensing your concern.

“I don’t know,” you lied.

A couple weekends before this, you had personally asked the two celebrants to not invite her to the pregame. If they felt so inclined to invite her to the club for the sake of keeping the peace, at least then Jeongin wouldn’t have to be in close proximity and you could drag him away. Jisung was the one who tried to protest, but after begging and bribing them five rounds of drinks on the night-of, he caved in, though claiming he was going to not invite her anyways. He just wanted to see how far you’d go for your ‘beloved “friend.”’

“I need a drink,” he groaned.

“Look at me.” When he wouldn’t, you had to force him by grabbing his bare shoulders. They were much bigger than you remembered. “Say it with me; I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine?”

“I need more gumption, babe. Give me some umph!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“More!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine!”

“Yeah!”

“Smart, sexy, fine!”

“Yeaaahh!”

“Let’s drink!”

After tipping the taxi for suffering through your pregame to the pregame, you and Jeongin did more breathing exercises outside their condo to the tune of the hip-hop music inside. All charged up, he opened the door and you stood in awe just how many friends two boys had post-university. The floors were already sticky with juice and liquor, and there was barely room to get to the crowd of people you actually knew. Luckily, Jeongin was tall, and he grabbed your hand to lead you in. This, for some reason, felt more intimate than slow dancing at the park, and that’s when you knew you were embarrassingly touch-starved.

Jisung squeezed himself in between and slung his arms across the shoulders of his close friends. “Long time no see, sugar mama!”

“Hello to you, too, mooch,” you smirked. “Happy birthday, I guess.”

He landed a big wet one on your cheek. “Thanks, babe!”

“Ugh, ew. Where’s the other child?”

“_____! Jeongie!” the deep voice of an Australian boy slurred. He handed you two plastic neon shot cups of brown liquid and no chaser. “Shot o’ Henny! House rules.”

“You disgusting, gross, icky boys…” you groaned.

“C’mere,” Jeongin urged. He twisted his arm around yours so they’d cross, causing your faces to inch closer. His dimples poked his cheeks. “Bottoms up!”

That was the motto of the pregame. One after the other after the other after losing games in humiliating succession made your vision double and made walking feel like you were on a ship. Chan had to catch you not once, but twice, from tripping or bumping into someone. It was as simple as one hand on your waist and pulling you into his chest, to which you so shamelessly placed your hand on when he hugged you close.

“We keep running into each other,” he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

“Must be fate,” you flirted back.

For the second time, Jeongin had to pry you away from the hottest man in the room. Annoyed, you followed anyway, because tonight you were supposed to distract your best friend from falling into a hole filled with existential crisis, not trying to sleep with someone he considered his brother. Still, you shot Chan a hand sign to your ear. ‘Call me!’ you pouted.

“Why would you cockblock me like that?” you whined.

Jeongin didn’t answer right away. He cleared his throat. “It’s time for the club, silly.”

You two shared a sedan with the birthday boys and Minho. One person above the normal limit, but the driver didn’t care and would rather hurry to do the drop-off.

Jisung patted his lap. “Got your seat, sugar mama.”

“No,” you and Jeongin said in simultaneous deadpan.

“Felix, move up,” Jeongin demanded. He man-spread as much as Jisung and Minho allowed, making a small seat in between his legs.

You’d be the first to admit that sometimes you and Jeongin were a little too close to be considered friends; even strangers had mistaken you for a couple once in a while. But you’ve never been close to him like this before. Your hesitation was long enough that Jisung had to yank you into the car. You did your very best to settle in, moving your ass as little as possible, struggling with how you could make this any less awkward and cover the least amount of surface area.

Jisung wrapped Jeongin’s arm tight around your waist and slapped his triceps. “All buckled in!”

As Jisung and Minho yapped each other’s ears off, you and Jeongin remained silent. If you turned to talk to him, your ass would graze his pants, and that was weird, right? Yeah, weird, and it seemed he had a similar thought. The exception was tapping his fingers on your waist to the beat of the radio. His breath tickled the skin on your neck, and your body betrayed you by heating up your face. Touch-starved was an understatement. No, horny was not the right answer; you’d refute it.

You couldn’t have crawled out of the sedan faster. The other boys rushed in to line up at the bar (“Don’t forget what you owe us!” Jisung whispered (yelled)). Behind you, Jeongin scanned the crowd. You followed suit and couldn’t find a beautiful short girl with strawberry blond hair. Ok, this was a good sign. Maybe she wouldn’t come! He let out a breath of relief; or was it disappointment? Regardless, he joined you on the dance floor and weaved between people, dancing against the oontz-oontz.

In this moment, while your veins were half-filled with alcohol and both of your closest friends closed in with over-filled cups, you watched Jeongin forget his woes and sing to the sad up-beat electronic music. A circle would open up in the middle at the peak of the song; Changbin would break dance; Minho and Jisung would body roll; Felix did the worm; and Jeongin would force you into a connected chain reaction of shoulder and arm waves. In these moments, he smiled. Grinned, even; dimples as deep as they could be and eyes twinkling under the neon lights from the DJ.

When the boys dispersed for another drink after a couple of hours of burning calories, you two were left alone again. In those hours, you couldn’t count how many times you made eye contact. After locking eyes again, feeling the highs of euphoria and the lows of heartbreak, he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he broke it, and his face dropped. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, but like a moth to a flame, you were attracted to the pain.

She greeted Jisung and Felix at the bar on the opposite side of the club. It was too easy to spot her in the dark with her bright hair. She introduced the boys to someone next to her, touching his arm and leaning against him affectionately, making it as clear as the vodka shot in her hand that’s who she was with and he was hers.

How quickly the human heart beats for a lover, just for it to dance to the same rhythm for another.

Jeongin seemed apathetic. Not angry, not sad, and maybe unable to distinguish between if this was the ache of betrayal or the nostalgia of closing a chapter that begged to end.

Speaking of nostalgia, an old EDM song that premiered in your early years of middle school began, the familiar notes from a piano causing the whole club to scream.

You reached out to your soulmate. “You love this song.”

He smiled, eyes tired and filled with sadness, though without the reflection of a pool of stars. “I do love this song.”

You led him to the front where the DJ played Clarity. Lost in the crowd packed like sardines with strangers, you and Jeongin were free to sing out the shadows that slept in your hearts.

“Hot dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life,” you sang at a horribly off-tune. “C’mon, I know you know it!”

“If I fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time,” he sang in perfect key.

“Louder! Hold still right before we crash ‘cause we both know how this ends!”

“A clock ticks ‘til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again.”

You forced your heart to sing its song and it retaliated in waves of tragedy. As your lips stretched to retain the smile, you screamed with the crowd, “‘Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

And he joined in, matching your volume, matching your energy. “Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don’t know why!”

In unison, you threw your heads back, crying into the air at the peak of the song. Like shadows, the crowd mimicked each other with hands curled into fists and hearts raised to the sky. “If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?”

“Let’s go!” you cheered.

The beat picked up and the crowd jumped to the chorus. The bass of the song reached your heart and pumped blood through your veins, tired from fighting with rationality. You would take these short five minutes to let go, let your heart confess to the boy in front of you in the form of a 2013 poetic masterpiece. Despite the meaning, the beat was too sick and you couldn’t help but grin from the fun. Jeongin wasn’t one to hide emotions for the sake of saving face, but it was like he forgot why he was screaming as he headbanged his way through the wordless chorus. You both burst into a fit of giggles, blinded by the lasers that cut through the smoke machine.

As the song progressed, the more your bodies pressed together. Side by side, mixing sweat with sweat, you both screamed at the DJ the second verse and would turn to each other again for the iconic bridge. His dimples carved into his perfect skin and this would be a core memory you’d lock away forever despite the molotov cocktail of despair that ignited in your gut.

The line you screamed to your best friend was the one that branded itself into your whole being. It was the one line he refused to sing.

“You are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

He didn’t continue the pattern of bouncing off lines from each other. He stopped jumping, brows furrowed in a way that concerned you more than it concerned him.

“What?” you paused.

Jeongin closed the gap between your bodies. Surrounded by violent waves of people, you blocked them out within the bubble, unable to hear the song anymore. His hands cupped your cheeks. Your mind registered a second too late that he was wiping something with his thumbs. It felt wet and warm, freshly flowing on your numb face.

His hands left your face and found your arms. You watched as he wrapped them around his neck and his dropped to your waist. The strength of his grip was desperate and longing, filling an emptiness that physically you could replace, but lovingly couldn’t replicate. You begged your body to step away, to run out and find Chan or anyone else; to go home even, but tonight your heart controlled your mind and overwrote the command. This was what you wanted, what you needed, what you dreamed of since secondary school. To be in the arms of the one you loved fulfilled the one level on the hierarchy of needs, but was a threat to the one below it. Your body was struggling to respond to its fight-or-flight, understanding that you had long crossed the thin line between friend and lover long ago with a size thirteen shoe, but it had betrayed you and glued your heels to the sticky dance floor.

Why was Clarity the longest fucking song in the world?

The smell of his pink peppercorn and cedar hit your senses and brought you back to life. You felt his forehead against yours, nose touching nose, his breath tickling your lips, and saw his eyes float between them and your now dry eyes.

“Why?” was all you could muster against his lips.

He answered by swallowing your words. You never understood the comparison of the softness of rose petals until you felt his. You kissed him shyly, waiting for him to pull away in a shocking realization of regret and prepared for the aftermath. But when you wouldn’t respond how he wanted, he pressed harder, moving his lips hungrily and mouth open and welcoming to receive. Your tongues danced and tasted the bitterness of tonight’s drinks, old lovers, and repressed confusion. But it felt good; so, so good. To be the one he wanted for once, whether it was real or for convenience, was an opportunity you pathetically couldn’t pass.

And your heart, how it soared! With wings made of wax, you were high above the clouds, tangling yourself with him and exchanging euphoric hums. But your dreams were sculpted by Daedalus and delusion was the sun, and though you wished to remain here forever, your wings began to melt and reality wouldn’t be kind enough to soften the fall.

When you broke for air in the middle of the next song, you felt pressure rise in your nose and eyes as a million tears collected. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted; or rather, you weren’t what he wanted. He wanted the same memory, the same cry of song, the same touch, the same kiss, the same taste of breath; just not yours. He wanted hers. You knew in the deepest corner of your heart that he imagined holding her instead and that her breath was the one he’d breath in. In the ideal scenario, you’d be out by the perimeter watching your best friend win back the woman of his dreams and he’d hold her so tightly, afraid that she would drown in the crowd. You were meant to be his biggest fan, not his greatest love.

“Why?” you cried again.

He shook his head. “I just thought -”

“This isn’t right.” But you wished it was.

Outside, the busy streets in the middle of the night were deafened by the bass and proximity to the DJ. It was a miracle you heard the honk of a nearby taxi that’d take you home.

No, you wouldn’t confess to your best friend in a club downtown. No, you wouldn’t confess any other time regardless of circumstance. This was a secret the recipient of an unrequited love was supposed to bury with them to their grave because it was the deepest sin committed between two best friends. As long as you didn’t confess, the bond wasn’t severed and the damage could be repaired. That’s how it was supposed to work, anyways.

For the night, you’d lock yourself in your room. You’d close off any and all avenues in order to protect and repair the critical condition of your heart. So much of it had been chipped away and given in pieces to fill the gaps that Jeongin was missing, but now he was confusing kindness for love and familiarity with feeling whole. How would you get back the pieces of yourself you so willingly gave up? Would your heart know to create those pieces into something new, or would it reject anything that came in its place that wasn’t from him?

You arrived home and washed away the sins until your skin burned from all the scrubbings. The sky was cloudy tonight as you looked outward into the lively streets of young adults who could party until the sun snuck above the horizon. The stars wouldn’t show themselves tonight.

Would Scorpio and Lupus be there tomorrow?

–

When your door handle wouldn’t give, Jeongin gave up and retreated to his room some time after 3:00 AM. He laid in bed and hated the feeling of his bed sheets. They weren’t as soft and they didn’t envelope him in a blanket of clouds as yours did. Though the ceiling color was the same as yours, in a sense, it still wasn’t the same, as he was in his own room and not where he belonged.

You had burned into his soul. The way your lips felt, the way your tongue swirled, the way your hands pulled him in, was the answer of how much you yearned for him. He was no stranger to signs of affection. No friend would do all of this with their heart in platonic mode. You didn’t look at him the way Felix or Chan or the others did. You, with your softened eyes and gentle touch, had him in your heart, for the Gods only know how long.

Jisung was the one to kick him out of the club and kick what little sense was left in him. “Go after her, you idiot!”

His lips were tingly. The feeling of your hands through his hair, fingers gentle and tracing the map to your heart, was carved into his scalp. His tongue swiped across his lips, lonely and aching to have another taste.

You infected him. You forced poison down his throat that made him unable to sleep, torturing him with a recording of your body pressed on his. He blamed you for how it planted itself and festered into something more salacious; a similar scenario, with tangled limbs and messy hair, but in the privacy of your bedroom and much less clothing.

In the days that followed, you pretended that night never happened, but something changed. Your responses were shorter, your cheeks were pinker, you couldn’t hold eye contact without faltering to his lips, you wore baggier clothes, and couldn’t even spend more than fifteen minutes in the same room without having to leave to ‘get water’ or ‘go to the bathroom’.

Why, for the love of all the Gods, hadn’t you confessed yet? Isn’t that the rational next step?

“Why would she?” Minho snorted while kicking his feet up on your coffee table. Jeongin would wipe that down later.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he repeated.

“You understand you live here, too, right?”

“So…”

“So… isn’t that weird? What are you going to say? ‘Cool, I’m still not over Sieun though, sowwy. Can I still live here, though’?”

“But I am!”

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear. Seeing her with that guy… sure, it sucked ass, but I don’t know. No one ever likes to see their ex with someone else.”

“No one likes taking care of someone they love who loves someone else, either.”

Jeongin pulled the string on his hoodie and hid inside. “I just feel like a confession would get rid of all this tension -”

“Sexual tension.”

“Regular tension.”

“And change the trajectory of your friendship and lives forever, so much so that the stars would misalign and chaos would ensue. Just as the prophecy foretold,” Minho rolled his eyes. “You know what, Jeongin, you’re right - _____ should confess her undying love to her best friend of over a decade who just broke up with the first love of his life after they made out on the dance floor to fucking Clarity, of all the damn EDM songs in the world, and then all would be normal, right? Nothing good has ever come out of tongue dueling to an EDM song.”

“I don’t need your sass…”

“Yes, you do, because you’re acting like an idiot. I don’t care what Jisung says, he’s too much of a loverboy. Think rationally, here; she’s not going to confess to someone who she knows doesn’t feel the same way. It’s that simple.”

Love was an infectious disease and Jeongin didn’t have the proper antibodies to defend himself against your poison. His heart, his mind, and his body were firing alert signals to each other whenever he saw you. His body would block them when you came home in your work-out clothes; his mind couldn’t focus whenever you spoke to him; and his heart wrenched when your smile didn’t match your eyes.

“Earth to Jeongin!” you snapped, waving in front of his face.

“Hm?” he asked, pretending your chest wasn’t in his face. His mind did a double-take when it registered your outfit.

“I said I’m going out for the night. So, you know, don’t light my home on fire.”

“Out where?”

Your back stiffened. “On a date.”

–

When Minho hit you up during your lunch break on a Friday afternoon, you were half expecting him to ask when the meeting was with the developers. The other half was not expecting a proposition.

“I don’t date co-workers,” you deadpanned.

“Not me, genius,” he scoffed. “A friend.”

“I’m not interested in Jisung.”

“How we got promoted at the same time is beyond me. I have other friends!”

“Do they look like Chan?”

“Sadly, no. They don’t look like Jeongin, either.”

Since the clubbing-turned-friendship-destroying wombo-combo, Minho made it his mission to terrorize you about it every working hour, either in person or over Teams with kissing, tongues, and eggplant emojis. Each time, you couldn’t suppress the burning on your face and in your chest. Your showers had to be ice cold for you to not remember how his hands gripped your waist and to forget how warm his tongue was around yours. At work, you often found yourself dazed, looking out at young couples that passed the streets below, daydreaming about kissing Jeongin again every time a couple would kiss at the stop light before crossing the road, or kiss each other goodbye, or just because.

You were sick with the lovebug and there was no remedy available. What made Minho think a date would work?

“No,” you said.

“Come on, _____! Live a little!”

“No!”

“So you’re saving yourself for a man who only kissed you because he felt sorry for you.”

If anyone was going to tell you the hard truth, it would be him. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “You think I can’t get over him.”

“I know you can’t.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You wanted it.”

“Of course I did, so what?!”

“You need to either move on and forget it happened, or fuck each other and see where it takes you. Which would you rather tell Jeongin?”

Minho was brash, but he was right, in a sense. If you couldn’t feel comfortable in your own home, you’d be drained of all life and cease to exist, living as a hollow body that went to work and came home to sleep. But was moving on or sleeping with your best friend truly the only two options?

Maybe you were an idiot. “Not a date. A drink.”

“Same thing. I’ll set it up tonight.”

“Tonight?!”

“Take it or leave it.”

There was some satisfaction in the way Jeongin’s face twisted when you admitted to a date. Yes, you put on your tightest clothes; yes, you put on your favorite perfume; and yes, you weren’t wearing a bra. All of which Jeongin realized, based on the path his eyes traveled.

“A date,” he muttered. “With whom?”

“I don’t know. Minho set it up for me.”

“Minho?” he sneered, then shook his head. “And you’re going?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t go.”

“Jeongin -”

He stood from his seat on the couch. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I can’t -” you stuttered, unable to form the words you wanted to say in order. “I’m going.”

He blocked your path to the door. “I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“About that night.”

“Now?” you scoffed. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

“This is something I want to do. Please,” you begged, “let me go.”

“I think you don’t want to go.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“I think I do.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” The familiar sting on your nose returned. “You don’t know anything.”

“I think -” he paused, voice caught in his throat. “I know what I felt from you that night.”

“You know,” you chuckled bitterly. “You know what, exactly?”

“I felt you. I felt ten years of frustration, of anger, of-of desire, of everything that is both good and bad -”

“Jeongin -”

“How can you say that I didn’t feel how your heart beat against mine, how your lips pressed deeper -”

“Stop -”

“No!” he cried out. “I won’t stop! I can't! I-I need to know.”

“Are you asking for something? Are you looking for an answer that you already know?”

“Yes!”

“Why?!”

“Theories can be proven wrong.”

“But why does it matter?”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t manage to look you in your glossy eyes. “We need to lay everything on the table for this to work.”

“What’s not broken doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“But it is broken! Everything’s broken! It’s all a shattered mess of pieces that don’t fit together and we need to repair what’s broken when it’s all laid out in front of us.”

“Why?” you stuttered. “Why tonight? Tonight, of all nights, when I have something that’ll make me forget about that night for just a couple of hours?”

Jeongin couldn’t answer. It could have happened any night. But the game of life threw in a time-sensitive prompt that changed the whole plot. The fact that you wanted to forget, but couldn’t, might be the only confession he’d get.

“I can’t keep revolving my life around you,” you whispered. “I can’t keep loving you the way I do and maintain the friendship you need from me.”

There it was, the confession he was looking for, but not in the way he expected you to admit. He thought you’d do so while looking at the ground, hiding your smile the way you would act shyly, and maybe it’d be a little embarrassing. But as you stood before him, you were standing strong, refusing to break eye contact, with tears streaming down and dripping from your chin. It was in a way that begged for him to see you for how you really felt; like he was ripping your heart from your chest with his bare hands.

Your hands curl into fists in an effort to stop the tears. “If I lay the pieces of my heart on the table, I can’t take them back.”

He stepped closer. “Why not?”

You stepped back. “Because I won’t be able to put myself back together.”

“I’m here. I was made for you; to help keep you together.”

“Not in the way I want. In the way I need.”

“Yes, yes to both!” Jeongin grabbed tissues to dab the tears from your precious face, as if your skin was coated in porcelain. “I want to make this work.”

“This friendship.”

“No.”

“I am not her!” your voice cracked. “I am not her and I can’t fill in for the gap she left behind.”

“I don’t want her. I want you.”

You still couldn’t accept it. It just didn’t make sense. You were made to care for him from afar, not stand by his side. “You don’t mean that. You had ten years. Ten years! It only changed because, what, you're desperate for touch and you're going after the easiest catch? It's pathetic. You're pathetic!”

Your sharp tongue was your greatest weapon, but Jeongin was left unscathed. You were hurting and had a decade's worth of hardened shells that were crumbling in front of him. Yes, this was all too sudden, and it didn't make sense, but he was losing you and he'd rather break you down into a million pieces and deal with the puzzle later if it meant you'd stay.

“_____,” he whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours as if the closeness would allow you to read his mind and hear his heart scream. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

You sucked in a breath. Those words felt like a spell that lit your body in flames. Your mind said to run, but your body and heart had overruled. You tilted your head and your noses touched. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“Theories were tested repeatedly to be deemed true.”

“Tested a lot of times.”

“A billion times.”

“That takes a very long time.”

“I’ll take forever with you,” he breathed on your lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Your iron grip on his sweater would surely leave a mark later, but you were too afraid to let go, too afraid that this moment was a dream and he’d disappear if you faltered. “I was yours for ten years. I’ve been waiting to have you.”

One soft kiss. “I took too long.”

Another, more needy, kiss. “You can make it up to me later.”

And another, one that mimicked the hunger from that night. “Now.”

“Hm, I don’t know… I have a date, remember?”

“Yeah, with me in your bed.”

Your giggles echoed throughout the condo when Jeongin threw you over his shoulder and ran to your room.

And so your heart soared again. Above the ether was the unknown, in the mythical heavens and forbidden territory. But you'd get there together, while your arms tangled with his and noses rubbing affectionately as your breaths combined in between long and slow kisses under your (and his) blankets.

The fine line you once refused to cross bent and folded with your bodies.

–

EPILOGUE

“Yo,” Minho greeted the phone.

“Hey, I don’t think I can make it tonight -”

“She’s sick!” Jeongin interrupted.

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Well, thank God!” Minho sighed.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, that was a lie.”

“What the hell/What the actual hell is wrong with you?” you and Jeongin yelled in disbelief.

“Because Jeongin is a possessive simpleton and _____ is a cheap date. Did my master plan work, or not?”

“Well, yes, but -”

“My work here is done, bye!” Minho hung up.

[modevernon]

rainy days # chwe vernon

pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: f2l, comfort warnings: cursing, mentions of food word count: 1.25k

ever since autumn fell into your hands like a stale, unwanted gift, vernon had been acting strange. well. ‘strange’ was difficult to define. vernon was, by nature, pretty strange.

rather, he ceased to act in his normal, strange way, and that was what bothered you — where were the out-of-the-blue “fried chicken, my place, shrek” text invites? where had those gone? where were the absurd, vine-reminiscent tiktoks and goofy screenshots of infinite challenge? where were the multitude of beanies strewn across your house? where, and when had he taken them back? where was he?

yes, seasonal depression existed. but he had explicitly told you, as you were munching on a cinnamon roll for breakfast three months ago, that fall was his favorite season. and yes, you two had only started hanging out this year, so it wasn’t as if your friendship had ever been set in stone. but even so, you didn’t deserve to be ghosted, or slowly distanced from until he had erased you from his life.

and yet, you could pinpoint the day, the moment, the very conversation during which his demeanor shifted so precisely that you figured something must have gone wrong then, and maybe it was your fault.

so you ran back the dialogue to the best of your recollection: it had been a rainy saturday, the kind of humidity that simply begged you to stay inside, and vernon had been making cold hot chocolate (“so… chocolate milk?” “no, you don’t see the vision!”) as you drafted emails at your desk.

when he completed his little concoction and entered your room with a mug of it, you were enjoying a self-proclaimed break, perched on the edge of the table, scrolling through instagram.

“bro, you have to see this,” you called to him casually, hearing his footsteps approach.

he did approach — slowly. stopping before you, he placed the mug on the table. “am i your bro now?”

eyes still glued to your phone, you knocked jokingly at his arm. “sorry.”

after a beat, you looked up, as if finally absorbing all of what had been said so far. “wait.” vernon gazed back at you patiently. “you’ve never complained about that.”

he opened his mouth slightly, some unforeseeable sentence at the tip of his tongue, then closed it and glanced away. “yeah, well,” and he took a step back, “never said i was complaining.”

then you had taken a sip from the mug, and said to him that it tasted just like chocolate milk, but lukewarm, and he had laughed softly without a rebuttal, and you had showed him the instagram story you had found funny, and he had laughed again without comment, and half an hour later he had left from your apartment and the rain had kept falling and everything had seemed eerily quiet. the end.

except it wasn’t the end — it couldn’t be the end, when vernon’s pretty little face was all you could think about even as weeks, months passed without his presence.

today, you were feeling especially fed up, inhaling a cinnamon roll from the same café you’d visited with vernon in the heat of summer. it was suspiciously warm for late october, as if the weather was actively forcing you to reminisce, and it stayed warm until the sun slipped down and suddenly it was cruelly, unbearably cold — and rainy. wrapped up in blankets, you stirred your (real) hot chocolate, watched the downpour vandalize your windows, and wondered what to do with your fraught, ambivalent heart.

vernon was surprised to get a call past midnight, and more surprised that he was on his phone at the exact minute to pick up. he swiped right, forgetting to read the contact.

“hello?” he spoke first.

“hey.” vernon could tell by one syllable that it was you. he checked the screen to confirm anyway. you continued, voice inexplicable: “what’ve you been up to?”

first question, and he was already feeling guilty. “work,” he replied, with faux detachment, “kinda tiring.”

“tiring?”

“mm-hmm.”

“busier than usual?” your tone was veering from innocent to interrogative.

“yeah, you could say that.” what excuse could he give that wasn’t the reason?

“you still could’ve kept in touch, you know,” you hit back. quiet on the other end of the line. “i had to watch bottoms without you.”

“oh, that’s a great movie,” vernon blurted, then immediately regretted.

he could almost see your eyes narrow. “so you watched it on your own?”

“… yeah. on my own.”

you let his response hang embarrassingly in silence. after a beat — “do you have anything to tell me, hansol?”

oh. hansol. shit was getting real; but vernon tried to dodge the fact. “do you have anything to tell me?”

“stop acting cheeky. it’s not cute.”

“no, i’m serious. you must’ve called to say something.”

“i can’t just call to say hi?”

“that’s what you wanted to say? hi?” the words came out far more acerbic than he had intended.

and for the first time, your voice faltered. “didn’t… didn’t you miss me?”

to answer that would be to burst a dam. he felt no choice but to fall back on old tricks. “did you miss me?”

you huffed. vernon knew he was pushing your limit, but it was all he could do. now it was quiet on your end, and he was contemplating a better way to weasel out of this when the bell of his apartment abruptly rang.

perfect. “um— hey, so sorry to cut this short, but i just— there’s a friend coming over, they’re at the door—” and he walked hastily toward it. “we can talk later.” and he hung up before you had the time to reply, simultaneously opening the door to find you, drenched, no umbrella in sight, staring daggers into him.

he was so stunned that he couldn’t exclaim. you kept staring until you grew tired of it, and blinked away. with your hair dripping so much, it was impossible to tell whether your face was wet with tears or rain.

just as vernon began to take up his hand to wipe your cheek, you spoke again. “really hard fucking way to get me to ask you out.”

his hand froze. to what? “of course i missed you, hansol. i missed you so much, i couldn't do anything else. i missed you so much, i ran here while it was pouring, and you know i hate going outside when it's like this. i missed you so much, it’s been driving me insane! what the hell did i do that was so wrong?” your voice was breaking, fracturing. “can’t you tell me?”

the way vernon stood made him look like a film on pause. only his eyes trembled, ever so slightly, drinking you in with excruciating care because heaven knows how much he missed you too.

before he could think of what to say back, his body moved reflexively into yours, arms wrapped around you, head buried in your neck. you were so cold against him, so tense with emotion that his embrace left you melting.

“i thought you didn’t want me,” he breathed, still enveloped in you, “the way i wanted you.”

you sighed, somewhere between relief and exasperation. “why would you assume that, idiot?” it wasn’t really a question. “someone who’s usually so slow to act.”

at that comment, vernon peeled — slowly — away from you to face you again. “i’ll be fast this time,” he vowed, and you tilted your head in puzzlement. “you’re asking me out? my answer is yes.”

a/n: excuse my like two month hiatus. kung chi pak chi summoned me back.

[a-canceled-stamp]

🪰

🪰 Recommend a fic that makes you sad (in the best way!!)! Some great angst and/or hurt/comfort!

OKAY so

Since hurt/comfort is what I consume daily I simply couldn't choose one fic for this lil bug. So I chose 4. Or. Technically 5. Just for you babes 😘 (mind you my oof meter may differ from other's oof meter. I am but a smol creature and can only take so much pain in my soup. Be advised.)

SYNCHRONICITY by orpheusaki ( @damianbugs). We're starting with the fic with the least amount of anguish, but one that still packs a punch. Nightwing and Dick!Robin swapping places. Angsty Dick & Bruce stuff happens in both the past and future, and y'all, it is INCREDIBLE. This author is just. Gah. Everything they do is pure gold, and this fic is no exception. Very much made me tear up and my heart hurt a lot, but I was def smiling by the end of it. This will hurt you but at least put a lil bandage over the bruise :)

Sprinklers by SunnyBlue. Tim & Damian feels bc OF COURSE. Tim is gravely injured and begs Damian to leave him. Damian refuses bc he secretly cares about his big bro. You know, the ush 😌💅 Yet another fic that left me with a lil bandaid over my bruise by the end of it, but man, this bruise was nasteeee. On a more serious note, this was one of the first Batfam fics I ever read, and made me realize the sheer talent that exists in this fandom. A fantastic read.

Identity by Miles_2_Go ( @miles2g0). OUGHHH. The greatest fic to ever fic. Lazarus Pit!Tim and Good Bro!Jason = AHJDKSHJDK. So much hurt/comfort. Love love love. This also offers a bandaid (from what I remember) but the hurt lingers dude. It lingersssss. Excellent writing, wonderful prose, INCREDIBLE characterizations, SUPERB angst....just GAH. I love it so much.

As for the last one...this is where we arrive in Oofville. Population? Whoever dare read this fic (this one might be familiar to you cue ashdjshdjk)

bile is sweeter by cuephrase ( @cuephrase). I read this a few weeks ago and y'all. I am still not okay. Shorter than the other recs but FUCK. The pain. THE PAIN. The Tim & Dick dynamic, the internal dialogue, Dick's fear and desperation, the ENDING- Ough. OUGH. And if you liked this one, Cue has just finished a sequel; Penance. Why did they write this, you ask? TO EMOTIONALLY MAIM THEIR FRIENDS THAT'S WHY. I've only read the first chapter but man. I already know I'm In Danger(TM) 🥲

Thank you for the ask!🌻💞

Send me a bug and I'll give you a fic rec!

[trashjuicesmidrewrite]

Episode 8 •_• (MID Rewrite)

IN CASE YOU WEREN’T COMFY READING LAST EPISODE (skip if you’ve already read): basically Ava woke up in a black void with doors of varying shades of greys. She goes through one of them and sees a dream version of one of Pierce’s childhood memories. After this, Ava and the guys continue to explore the palace until Pierce confronts Ava about it. He reveals to her that he’s trans and would rather Ava not talk about it to anyone. She agrees and then the gang dicks around for a bit before Ava and Pierce fall asleep. Now in a dream world, Ava and Pierce go through different childhood memories of Pierce’s (that sentence feels repetitive. I’ll probably fix it later) When doing this Asch and the gang go try to find Lady Grandma but get stuck running from Mrs. Oats’ rage. We then go over to Ava and Pierce and he’s, like, gone crazy. Ava comforts him and they try to find a way out of the void. Meanwhile in reality everything is goin to shit because the gang angered a bunch of soul cats that just so happened to be the reincarnated souls of Daemons the Chikarian royal family has made love with. They fight them off and eventually get their asses kicked being swept off like a wave. Pierce saves Rhys by throwing him across the hallway and him and Lady Grandma retreat temporarily before Rhys calls her a shit grandma (I’m paraphrasing the line is a bit better in the ep I swear) and goes off to save Asch and the rest and now we here!!!

My brain feels like writing this 24/7 so if you’re at all worried about the fact these are kinda being pumped out DONT. If I ever feel myself burning out I’ll chill for like a day or three and then get back to it, it’s like a stamina bar. Also I’m running out of faces to use for these. Ik there’s like an infinite amount of them but I can be slow at times so don’t judge. I think I’m just gonna experiment or swallow my pride and head to Google or ask a friend. Also also I am ASS at naming episodes bro I was struggling so much to come up with one for this I can imagine a person looking at the title for the episode and thinking “damn…this shit might be ass and filled with spelling mistakes a fetus couldn’t make. a toddler could come up with these.” And then ignore the rewrite like give me a chance 😭 btw there’s some Japanese dialogue in this and all translations should be in the bottom! The Japanese is from my own knowledge so if any of them are wrong that’s on me. Pls enjoy!

Episode 8: Meowing Fury Furry Frenzy

Rhys ran through the hall leading towards the sea of souls. He formed his staff and stuck it down through the floor, only barely cracking its surface.

“C’mon Rhys…remember…” he begged himself while biting his finger for blood to break.

Once a bead shown, he carefully put it on top of the crystal of his staff. He felt a small amount of dread throughout his body trying to remember the words of this incantation.

He was trying to pull off a ritual. It isn’t magic only because it doesn’t take away from the main source. Only your own body. The only thing a Daemon would have to do is remember what to do and what to say. The only problem being Rhys was having a tough time with the words.

He was never interested in rituals. He liked being prepared for the worst, but that was what learning how to fight with his staff was for. He never thought a wave of soul cats would threaten to suffocate his prince and a newly found friend.

“神さまはわたしのよびかけをきく” he heard a voice recite.

He quickly turned to see it was Lady Grandma. “Go on, you have to say it. It’s your blood.” She said getting as close to Rhys as she can. If she can get into the vicinity, she won’t get affected by the ritual.

He recited what Lady Grandma said still struggling to remember the rest. The cats were getting closer which caused his brain to churn. He never liked tense situations, but for some reason he always worked best in them.

“もう一度、あ���たの助けが必要です。起きている間中、そうしているように。” He said, finally remembering more of the ritual. “キジャン、どうか私に時間の力を貸してください。”

As soon as Rhys uttered the last word, the wave of cats halted suddenly, right when it was about to hit him and Lady Grandma. The souls loomed over them, keeping their expressions of hate and despair.

“How much blood did you use?” Asked Lady Grandma while breaking through the middle of the wave.

“Only a drop, that’s about an hour, right?” Said Rhys following Lady Grandma.

The purple cat was focused on creating a path before saying “You’re part Umnotho, yeah? Their blood is considered more valuable to the gods, so you gave us a good two hours to find everybody and get the hell outta here.”

They picked up their pace and started tearing through to make a path a bit more carelessly. Trying to find five people in a sea of multi-colored cats was definitely going to prove difficult. Lazing around and talking like they didn’t only have two hours to find everyone would be certain death.

“At this rate we’re not going to find anyone. Would it be too risky to split up Lady Grandma?” Rhys questioned already splitting into his own path.

“Alright, but you’ll be doing some extra work if I find someone. I ain’t cutting through bigger holes than I have to.” Lady Grandma immediately started lessening her work and dug holes that were about her size.

Just like that Rhys was left on his own, but he didn’t mind. The faster he and Lady Grandma could find everyone, the more time they have to get out.

His sight and hearing were obviously not going to be of any help, so he thought that scent would be his best bet. As weird as it was, everyone had a specific smell to them. Rhys wasn’t one to want to notice this, but Asch had taught him to take advantage of anything he could.

Speaking of Asch, he wanted to look for him first. He always smelled of grilled meat, most likely because it was his favorite type of food. Although he hasn’t had the chance to eat it much, it’s like the smell had burned on to him.

Rhys dug up to see if he would have a better chance in the surface. He also was starting to hate the tight space digging had forced him into.

The higher he went, the more he started to smell a minty scent. This had to be Leif. He was a tad disappointed, but it was still someone he cared about. He started tearing through to where the scent was stronger, getting more and more hopeful.

There was a particularly thick layer of cats blocking his path. Even when he tried to dig around it, it just happened to be the exact same issue. Rhys cut through the layer and saw Leif with some serious injuries writhing on the ground.

The cats must’ve really messed him up. A lot of his wounds were deep, and the cat hair would most certainly infect them if not treated.

Rhys quickly went to kneel beside Leif. Just as he expected, the assassin was completely frozen in time. He had to be really careful with transporting him to Ava’s living room. Once Leif leaves the room, he’ll be back to normal, but will feel a bit of whiplash.

Rhys gently picked up Leif and put him over his shoulder. He didn’t have anytime to be casually walking, so he did have a bit of pep in his step. He was sure that Leif would be fine still.

Right as he made it to the makeshift fork in the tunnels him and Lady Grandma had made, Rhys heard her call out his name.

“Rhys! I found Pierce! He’s with Ava, help me drag ‘em both!” She shouted.

“Just a minute! I found Leif, I need to take him to safety!” Rhys shouted back speedwalking away.

“Just hurry up will ya!? These cats are freakin’ me out…”

As Rhys got closer to the area he had the ritual, he could hear subtle gasps and sobs coming from Leif. He wanted to run now more than ever, but that’d put Leif in more pain.

When Rhys walked past where his staff was still stuck in the ground, Leif started screaming clearly not in his right mind. Slobber started to run down his mouth and getting on to Rhys. The advisor slightly recoiled at this until Leif said a slightly coherent sentence through his yelling.

“Dumbass! IDIOT! Run! Run me to…OW!” Slurred Leif punching Rhys in the back to get him to move.

Rhys picked up his pace running as fast as he could to the passage that led them back to Ava’s living room. He practically crashed through it and laid Leif on the table.

“Shit man…fucking grass beds are softer than this.” Said the assassin groggily.

Rhys ignored Leif’s comment and scanned his injuries. There were two scratches that looked like they’d leave scars on his legs, but the rest looked fine. He had no idea how to treat any of it, as he always had relied on someone like Noi to take care of wounds.

With a clearer head, he thought it’d be a better idea to find Noi next, assuming he wasn’t badly hurt.

Rhys rushed back into the palace and into the sea of cats. He sprinted through the already dug hole he and Lady Grandma made, and started tearing through her path.

“Lady Grandma! I’m on the way!” He announced squinting his eyes at the blood that came from the tearing.

He was met with silence and strangely enough, purring. Confusion and the slightest bit of fear swam through his psyche.

“Lady Grandma? Did you-“ Rhys was cut off by a bewildering sight.

Lady Grandma wasn’t acting like herself. She was laying in the corner of the bit of space she made for Pierce and Ava, but she was acting like an actual cat. Her proportions were more normalized, and she seemed to be fast alseep.

Rhys surveyed what happened to Pierce and Ava before checking on Lady Grandma. They seemed to be alright with only a few cuts and scratches. Pierce seemed to have been in the process of bringing Ava to the surface. This made him feel a bit stupid for using the ritual, but if he didn’t, Leif most likely would’ve been dead.

He walked over to Lady Grandma and crouched beside her. “Uhm…Lady Grandma?” He said while poking the top of her head.

The cat slowly woke up and stretched with a loud meow. It looked up at Rhys with its round boba eyes.

It wearily crawled toward him and jumped on top of his head. Rhys cringed and wriggled around to try to get the cat off.

“L-Lady Grandma! Would you snap out of this?” He pleaded, but to no avail. Rhys was already losing his patience, and the fact that he was on a time limit didn’t make it any better.

Rhys sighed, swatted the cat away, and went to put Ava over his shoulder. He cursed to himself when he realized he had to drag Pierce all the way to the living room. There was no way he could do it by himself.

He started to dearly miss using magic, but he couldn’t betray the mission. He laid Ava back down on the ground and focused on his attention and strength on dragging Pierce.

He grabbed the larger Daemon by the feet and pulled with all his might. Sounds of frustration and struggle escaped him, but he paid no mind to how humiliating they may have been.

Right up until a pair of nimble hands grabbed his shoulders. The smell of blood invaded his nose, yet he could still catch an undertone of…mint.

“Leif! Why in the gods’ name are you here!? Do you know how dangerous it is to continue walking around like you don’t have the injuries you do?! How did you even-“

“Can you shut the hell up and let me help you?!” Yelled Leif, cutting off Rhys.

The taller reluctantly stopped chastising Leif and let him continue to pull. Eventually they started to make some progress, dragging Pierce very slowly throughout the cat tunnel.

When they were around the artificial entrance, Leif piped up. “Y’know, hearing you struggle like that was kinda funny.”

“You’re smaller than me! Don’t even act like you wouldn’t make more pathetic sounds.” Rhys grumbled.

They both continued to pull until Rhys thought of something. He interrupted them both by intentionally clearing his throat.

“How did you even get in here? The ritual shouldn’t allow anyone but Lady Grandma and I to use Kijan’s help.” Said Rhys, not pulling anymore to make Leif no to.

“Oh that was a ritual? My foot got stuck in it, so I panicked and kicked the staff over with my other.” Said Leif while smiling.

Rhys stayed silent for a long moment making the space between him and Leif awkward. The green Daemon opened his mouth to say something until Rhys smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! The hell was that for?!” He said sounded hurt.

“Were you dropped on the head when you were a child?! The time this ritual works gets cut in half when you cancel it!” Rhys smacked Leif again.

“Dammit! Would you stop hitting me?! How much time we got left!?” Yelled Leif trying to hit Rhys back.

“I’d say about 50 minutes. It’s not nearly enough time given how Lady Grandma looks virtually useless at the moment…if we sprint we might be able to make it.” Said Rhys while grabbing Pierce’s legs again.

Leif grabbed Rhys’ shoulder with a lot more force than earlier. One side of him told him it was to get a better grip, but the other side knew it was to get Rhys back for hitting him.

The pair made a lot more progress with the added stress of less time. When they made it to the stairs, they continued to drag Pierce down while they both said a quick sorry each time Pierce’s head banged against the steps.

When they went through the passage, Rhys and Leif both sighed heavily in relief.

“Gods that took forever…can we just leave him in here?” Wheezed Leif grabbing his lower back.

Rhys heaved before standing straight up. “Definitely. Let’s hurry, we need to find the others and get Ava out of there.”

Leif nodded and both him and Rhys ran back into the secret palace. Sprinting towards the wave of cats, the two Daemons noticed the slight movement of it.

“Oh shit. I fucked up so bad…” mumbled Leif while holding his head.

“There’s no point in sulking. We need to hurry, we should still have time.” Pointed out Rhys

They trudged on through the tunnel that was made eerie because of the cats slow descent towards them.

Leif got ahead of Rhys to get back to where they found Ava. Now that the souls were moving, it was harder to dig through and make a set path. Rhys eventually lost sight of Leif.

He wanted to call out to the assassin, but he didn’t know what would happen if he disturbed the wave with sound. At this point, he couldn’t even smell anything but cat hair. His sense of smell was never that good, but it feels even worse here.

Rhys could feel his throat closing up, but chalked it up to his panic settling in. Despite this, he felt okay. He wasn’t shaken up at all, so the sudden reaction was odd.

Unless he was allergic to cats. This would be bad, and morbidly funny, so he quickly threw away that thought for his own sanity.

As the cats started to close in, Rhys could feel his eyes starting to water. He wanted to call out to Leif, but the pain in his throat started to become unbearable.

The sensation of all the cats weighing him down, and the fur prickling at his skin, coupled with his supposed allergy made him want to turn himself off and try again later.

Obviously, he couldn’t just give up because his mind and body wanted him to. He had to power through it, as he’s done many times before.

Rhys pushed through the descending felines and dug up. If he could get to the surface, his newfound allergy could get less intense.

He couldn’t tell if it was his watering eyes or his lost sense of smell, but he started to lose his sense of direction. This was the worst situation he could be in, but he couldn’t just let the cats slowly devour him. He continued to dig the direction he was going and eventually made it to the top.

The way the soul cats moved was a lot like gentle waves in an ocean. Of course some of them tried to scratch at Rhys, but they were slow enough he could just push them away.

The dark purple Daemon was very disoriented. He started to blame Leif for this, but for whatever reason he couldn’t bring himself to.

The only good thing to his overstimulation was that he could sense every little thing around him. It made him even more distressed, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make to be able to sense those around him more easily.

Rhys could feel the flow of the cats shift behind him.

“Leif? Is dat you…?” He said through sniffling “sorry I’m speaking improperly…I think I may be allergic to deez things.”

The flow change of the cats transferred to the front of him. Through Rhys’ blurred vision, he could see a pair of orange horns in front of him.

The horns rose up revealing it to be Noi. At least Rhys assumed it was him, he couldn’t really be sure.

“Rhys! Gosh, am I glad to see you! Have you seen Pierce anywhere?” Said Noi practically glowing.

“Guh…we d’already got him back to Ava’s ‘oom…” slurred Rhys.

“…You dal-eady god him bach to Ava’s ooze..?” Said Noi trying his best to understand Rhys.

Rhys shook his head and grabbed Noi’s face to put it closer to his. “I’m ‘orry Noi…” he sniffed “This algae is really bad. I’m seeing worst now…what’d you say?”

Noi started to tear up. “I have no idea what you’re saying!”

The two went back and forth trying to understand each other. Rhys’ ears felt as if they were getting more clogged, making it hard to hear Noi.

This would’ve went on until there was no time left if Rhys’ throat didn’t close up enough for the pain to be too much. He coughed and hacked, making his throat feel worse.

Even through his panicked tears, Noi could tell something was wrong. “H-Hey! Rhys? Are you okay?” He fretted.

The taller Daemon started sinking turning Noi into a frightened mess. He tried lifting him up, but was actively struggling.

“Ugh…Rhys, gimme a little help here.” Noi heaved. “I know your whole body is shutting down, but can you at least kick your legs”

Rhys didn’t respond, but he did start to take the brunt effort, carrying Noi on his back and kicking.

“Alright! You’re the mount and I’m the rider!” Announced Noi while grabbing Rhys’ hair.

The ginger pulled at the advisor’s hair to steer him in the right direction. It was literal hell for Rhys, yet every other sense he had was completely useless. The burning feeling on his scalp was the only proof that he wasn’t going through some type of sick dream.

Asch looked up at his impending doom. His head felt as if his brain was scratching away at his skull, begging to be let out and spread all over the floor.

Despite him accepting his death, it hadn’t come. He sat up and looked closer at the cats seeing that they were moving very slowly. He couldn’t figure out why this was, and his head still hurt like hell.

he laid back down in hopes the pain would lighten. Asch desperately wanted to close his eyes and sleep the pain away, but he had no idea if the cats would return to their regular speed and maul him.

Now that he was laying down though, he couldn’t bring himself to sit back up.

“C’mon Asch…this is embarrassing. Even a child could strike you down…” whispered a voice.

Asch shot straight back up feeling tension all over his body. He looked all around, but there was nothing near him the voice could’ve came from.

“What? Scared of a little sparing? Do you even want to be king?” Said another voice.

Asch’s body was in a cold sweat, and his head was reeling. Those voices were a lot like his father and Hitoma. He knew they weren’t here, or were they? His brain was beyond messed up.

“Asch! Strike me! Strike me now and prove yourself to me!” Shouted the booming voice.

The prince started to breathe heavily, and pushed away some of the cats in a panic. He looked around for the source of the voices, but there was none.

Asch figured it was his headache making him hallucinate. He didn’t remember taking such a devastating blow from the cats, but when he felt the top of his head, his hand was stained with blood.

He could hear scurrying coming from the right of him. His vision was blurry, but he could see a purple blob.

“Rhys? That you? My gods I’m glad to see you…” said Asch reaching out towards the shape.

The figure sighed, “I ain’t ya lil boy toy…we’re not even the same shade of purple! You colorblind?”

Asch was hit with a wave of shock before squinting his eyes to see who the figure really was. It was Lady Grandma, and a spate of embarrassment hit him

“B-Boy toy?!” He grabbed his head from the pain of yelling before saying, “what happened? Why is everything so slow?”

“Rhys did a ritual to slow time, but it seems someone might’ve interfered with it.” Lady Grandma went to paw at Asch’s arm. “We need to get outta here quick. He said how much time we had left, but uh…didn’t really comprehend.”

Asch rolled over on his stomach and followed Lady Grandma into the hole she dug. The old woman sliced bigger tunnels so Asch could have more space to crawl.

They both went at a steady pace to make sure they didn’t bump into each other. Lady Grandma constantly looked behind to make sure Asch was still behind her or dropped dead.

She felt a tinge of sadness at the fact she couldn’t remember much about him. He’s her grandson for crying out loud, she should at least remember the day he was born. She just couldn’t though.

She couldn’t remember his first day in the academy, his first spar, his first banquet, none of it. Bits and pieces, sure, but none of them was something that could tell her she was proud of Asch.

Lady Grandma also wanted to know why she just blanked out when tending to Ava and Pierce. The general looked a lot like someone she used to know, but couldn’t remember who.

She shook her head to rid of these thoughts and continued to dig. She could unpack this another time. Right now, she needed to get Asch out of here.

She picked up her speed and started mowing down the slow cats. Asch did his best to keep up. With his injuries, he was severely slowed down.

“Ma! Slow down a bit…” panted Asch, now going slower than when he started trying to catch up.

Lady Grandma seemed to have ignored Asch’s pleas, focusing on making a path.

Eventually Asch gave up because of the immense pain that took over his body. His breathing slowed, and his vision became hazy.

He blinked away tears as his body began to shut itself down. He couldn’t fight off these cats in his state.

“I should’ve known you weren’t ready. It’s not like you ever are.” Said a voice that sounded a lot like his father.

Asch could feel the cats slowly closing in on him. He tried to move, but his body didn’t seem to have the energy. Even though it’d make his head scream, he had to call out to someone.

“Hey! Ma! Wait for me, I can’t keep up!” He shouted while feeling a sharp pain in his head.

He waited while using up his little energy to move away cats that were a little too close to him. The prince was going to call out again until he felt a pair of hands grab both of his horns.

His body kickstarted itself in every place that he didn’t need at the moment. Whoever grabbed his horns was fiddling around, seemingly trying to get a better grip. This didn’t make the situation any better for Asch, as he squirmed around to remind his body this wasn’t the time.

The hands finally got a good grip and pulled. The tension and heat from his horns made Asch’s head want to tear itself apart.

After a while in the crowd of cats, the hands finally got Asch to the other side. The prince blinked and squinted his eyes to get a glimpse of who had the smart idea to pull him by such a sensitive place out of every other body part.

When his eyes settled, he noticed a distinct lack of horns on the figure. It was Ava, which in hindsight, should’ve been the first person he suspected.

“Queen Ava…what the hell?” He said lethargically not having the energy to be mad.

Ava looked scared out of her mind looking at Asch. “Oh damn! Was that from me pulling your horns? Oh my god, I fucked up I’m really sorry!” She panicked.

Asch flinched at Ava’s yelling. “If you’re talking about the head thing, that was from the cats. If you’re talking about everything else, Daemon horns are pretty sensitive…I’d be mad as hell if I wasn’t about to pass out.”

“…and that doesn’t mean I touched the equivalent to a penis, yeah?” She wished.

“What do you think?!” Shouted Asch, who immediately recoiled in pain from raising his voice.

Ava groaned in disgust while rubbing her hands on Asch’s chest. The prince couldn’t be more confused, but let it happen because he honestly didn’t care.

“Ugh…do you know what’s happening? I remember Pierce telling me, but I didn’t comprehend a thing.” Said Ava, scratching the back of her head.

“You people can’t remember…anything…” mumbled Asch, seemingly falling asleep.

Ava started shaking and hitting Asch. “Woah! Don’t go to sleep dude! I have no idea if you’ll wake up with a head scar like that.” She stammered.

Asch groaned in pain and looked away from Ava. He looked as if he was struggling to stay awake, but Ava thought that was better than him dying.

Ava grabbed Asch by his underarms and started slowly dragging him, making sure to keep his head elevated. She needed to find one of the guys to help her, or maybe that cat thing they keep calling Lady Grandma.

Moving away some cats in her way, Ava could hear a muffled voice. She hoped it wasn’t another one of the guys, if it was, she’d just have to pick her favorite and leave with them.

She moved towards the voice while making sure that none of the cats swiped at Asch. She came across a dense layer of cats. There wasn’t even a pocket of space or anything, just cats.

The voice was strongest in this area, so she kept digging in hopes she’d find the source of it. She started to hear a grunting noise followed by the cats shaking a ton. Whoever this is was trying to break down the wall of cats with a lot of force.

They were trying to break down the wall of cats.

With Ava behind it.

She scrambled to get on the other side of Asch and pull him by the legs, disregarding how his head might scratch the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Asch asked tiredly, still choosing to not look at Ava.

“Saving your head from getting crushed!” She growled while getting increasingly more anxious about the person knocking down the cats.

With a yell, Leif burst through the cats, inches away from squashing Asch’s head. He looked straight at Ava with surprise.

“Leif? Hey do-“ Ava started, but Leif cut her off by grabbing her and speeding through the cats. Ava quickly grabbed Asch by the legs and dragged him along.

Asch’s head dragged across the floor. “AH FUCK!” He yelled, “SLOW…down…” he trailed off as his body finally passed out.

Ava shouted at Leif to slow down so she could check on Asch, but he kept his grip on her.

She knew it wasn’t the time for this, but she couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach with how careful Leif was when grabbing her. She needed to get her mind off this quick.

She tightened her grip on Asch’s legs so she wouldn’t let go. Gradually, she got her hands to grip on higher parts of the prince’s body while Leif was still running with her. She got to the point where Asch’s body was sideways as she held on to dear life to his head, keeping it elevated.

Ava was sure his head would pop right off if she kept this up, but this was the only way he wouldn’t get any more injuries there.

Leif made a quick stop and let go of Ava. He then started to slam into a wall of cats repeatedly with his body.

Ava took this opportunity to check up on Asch, and she had to admit, he looked very much dead. Her heart dropped down to her stomach until she put her head to his chest. She could hear his heart beating which immediately made her let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Queen Ava? What’re you doing?” Questioned Leif. Ava swiftly sat back up and tried to do a nonchalant pose that in fact made her look more conniving than what she intended.

“I was…checking his heart beat! He looked kinda dead and I panicked and-“

“And so…to fix that you…smell him?”

Ava didn’t think she could be more panicked on the inside than what she already was. This was worse than accidentally convincing a bunch of alien(?) guys to marry her because she’s the queen of earth. Leif was gonna think she’s weird.

Without a doubt, the worst feeling in existence. Someone you think is attractive calls you a weirdo? You’re gone. Finished. There’s no coming back from it.

“Wh-What?! No! No. I was scared and I was holding my breath! I swear I’m not weird!” Stuttered Ava while flailing her arms.

“I wasn’t gonna say you’re weird, it’s just a crazy way to check a pulse. Literally just take your fingers and put them on his neck.” Leif explained, making Ava feel kinda dumb.

Leif sighed, “Could you just help me break this down?” He asked while continuing to slam into the wall.

Ava was more embarrassed than she had ever been in her life, and she had no idea how to help. She swatted away a few cats that were slowly, but surely, swiping at him. That was all she thought she could do though, as she didn’t really think she’d make a difference in busting through to cats.

Leif suddenly stopped trying to break the wall and looked at Ava like she provoked him. “What? I can’t do anything to break this down.” Said Ava.

“But you could…I don’t know…dig around? See if it’s just another pocket? Be helpful?” Huffed Leif.

Ava scoffed, but still did as she was told. “Asshole…” she muttered.

“Oh, that’s it!” Shouted Leif as he pounced on Ava.

The ravenette quickly kicked the Daemon in spots she knew would stun him. Specifically between his legs.

Leif yelled in pain, and got off of Ava. She quickly turned the tables by kicking him in his chest. Leif got knocked back, but as Ava was about to kick him again, he gave her a taste of her own medicine by kicking her in the crotch.

“Gah! Fuck! My lil’ boat man…oh no…” she keeled over flat on her back.

Leif took a few breaths. “Damn, you fight dirty. I haven’t had to stoop to that level in a while.” He said while getting closer to Ava.

“Y’know…a queen like you deserves someone who can match your en-“ Ava bit Leif’s hand before he could finish his sentence.

The assassin yelped, but went to throw Ava over his shoulder. She got all the wind knocked out of her, looking up at Leif as he attempted to pin her down. She wasn’t gonna go down so easily though.

She right hooked Leif and spun around to kick him in his neck. He got knocked back, but seemed to have tanked those hits. He held his neck while attempting to pounce Ava.

She haphazardly dodged, seemingly becoming a bit agitated. “Dude this is gettin’ annoying!” She exasperated, attempting to kick at Leif.

“Heh, you keep fighting though. Clearly you don’t wanna lose.” Jeered Leif while grabbing Ava’s leg and pulling her towards him.

Ava tried to punch Leif, but he grabbed both of her hands and pinned them down above her head. “Damn it! I could’ve won that…” she grumbled.

Looking up at Leif, Ava noticed something different in his eyes. She couldn’t quite pin it down though.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” He asked, his voice in a way softer tone Ava had ever heard him speak.

Ava stuttered a bit before answering Leif. “I- uhm…I used to be in a MMA team back in high school, but…I got kicked off after I did some stuff that was like out of the rule book n’ stuff…” she blushed hard out of embarrassment.

Leif cocked his head to the side. “I…uh…was never good at the grappling part…I always forget to.” Stammered Ava, refusing to look at the Daemon.

Leif laughed to himself. “I’ve got no idea what that is, but I’ve never had a play fight in a while.” He said. “…and I’ve never had a play fight with such a fine woman like you.”

Ava finally set her eyes on Leif, seeing eyes filled with admiration. The assassin made his face impossibly close to the ravenette’s. His minty scent overpowering all of her senses.

“Could I steal a kiss from you, Queen Ava?” He said simply, yet there was a low growl in his voice that made Ava’s heart leap.

“Y-Yeah..! My lips are chapped though so uhm…” Ava trailed off as Leif let go of his grip on her wrists and moved his hand to move her hair out of her face.

“I don’t really care about that.” He hummed as he got closer.

Ava could feel Leif’s breath over her lips. She shuddered as he got ever so closer.

“GERONIMO!” Yelled a voice that sounded a lot like a certain short Daemon, followed by a crash and the slow rise of sound coming from the cats.

Both Ava and Leif looked to see who it was, and it was none other than Noi and Rhys. The ginger was on top of the advisor looking a bit dazed. Rhys on the other hand looked completely knocked out, his face flat on the floor.

“That kinda hurt…” said Noi before shaking his head. “Queen Ava! Leif! I’m so glad to-…what are you guys doing..?”

Ava immediately pushed Leif off of her and sat up. “Nothin’! Just normal stuff.” She said, actually sounding believable for a change.

Noi clearly knew something was up, but he didn’t pry. “Sure…oh! We need to find Asch and Lady Grandma! Have you seen them?” He asked, trying to change the topic

Leif cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure Rhys is on top of him.” He said.

Noi looked down in shock to see Asch’s arms flailing around under Rhys as if he was a squashed bug. He quickly got off of Rhys and pulled him from Asch.

Asch took a deep breath while continuing to flail like he’s still being crushed. “Holy shit! I’m up! What’d I miss?! Are we out?! Is Ma okay? Am I okay?…” he went on, but the rest of the group started to tune him out once they realized he was just rambling.

“Noi, how much time we got left.” Said Leif, his tone more serious.

“Rhys was gonna tell me, but he’s allergic to cats and I couldn’t hear him because he was mumbling! So before I comprehended he said something of substance I kinda already crashed in here…” Noi answered while wringing his hands.

Asch started groaning with his hands on his head when Leif was about to respond. He started babbling about something but no one could understand him.

“None of you’s listens! None of ya! Just like him! I hate you all…I hate him so much!” Asch started crying uncontrollably as the group awkwardly tried to calm him down.

Noi started to have tears well up in his eyes. “Three of our smartest people are either not here or dumb now! We’re gonna die!” He joined Asch in the crazy wailing.

The crying coupled with the piercing screeches the cats started to emit got unbearable. Ava was starting to have enough.

“Could you all SHUT UP!?” She screamed. Noi stopped his tears and covered Asch’s mouth to stop his.

“We don’t know where that Lady Catma or whatever person is, and we don’t know how much time we have left.” She started to dig through some cats above her. “I remember Asch yelling something about her when I found him, so she left him. I say we get the hell out of here and pray she makes it out.”

Everyone that was conscious and sane seemed to agree with her, they started to dig up with Ava. Leif grabbed Asch, and Noi grabbed Rhys.

“Where’s Ma? I don’t know where she is…she’s okay?” Jabbered Asch while he was being carried by Leif.

The blanchette ignored him, focusing on digging up and being able to carry the prince. He silently cussed himself out for choosing to get the talkative one. Then again, Rhys would’ve been a huge hassle to carry since he was only a few inches shorter than Pierce.

Asch said something else, but Leif chose to tune him out. He was doing a good job of this right up until Asch punched him in the mouth.

Leif was inches away from completely dropping the prince. “What the hell dude?!” He fumed while grabbing Asch’s hand.

“You’re ignorin’ me! I’m your prince! You should respect me you troglodyte!” He whined.

“The fuck is a troglodyte?!” Yelled Leif, trying to get in a good position to carry Asch and climb up.

Asch kept rambling as Leif continued to tunnel up. He could hear Ava and Noi shouting his name, so he needed to get to the surface quick.

He started to call out to them so they could pull him up. His prayers were answered as Noi grabbed his hand and pulled him out.

“The cats are getting kinda unstable.” Said Noi while struggling to keep his balance. “I don’t think we’ve got much time.”

Leif nodded in response and transferred Asch’s body to over his shoulder. “W-Wait!” Shrieked Noi, startling the assassin.

“Rhys is kinda heavy, and I’ve already been carrying him for a long time so…” Noi pointed at the unconscious advisor to signal to Leif he needed help.

The taller Daemon groaned in annoyance, but still went to help. He grabbed Rhys by the feet as Noi grabbed him by the under arms. Slowly carrying him to the end of the wave.

They were speed walking, but with how the cats started to move faster and faster, they were severely slowed down.

“Hey! You guys are almost there! Are any of you strong enough to throw Asch over here?” Shouted Ava only a bit farther away from them.

“Oh yeah! Lemme just summon the strength of our dear general Pierce!” Said Leif sarcastically.

“That’s a good idea Leif! How would we do that though?” Piped up Noi.

Leif glanced at Noi disappointedly before turning his attention back to Ava. “These cats are getting fast too! It’s hard enough to balance, let alone get a good enough stance to throw someone!” He shouted

Ava looked a bit conflicted. At this rate, there was no way they’d make it in time. The panic was starting to kick in, and she started breathing heavier.

“Can’t you like, wake Rhys up?!” She worried.

“Like I said, he’s allergic to cats! He’ll just wake up delirious!” Hurriedly noted Noi.

Ava started to panic even more. She could leave them, but she cared about them now. It was terrible, risking her own life just to make sure these guys were safe.

She started to feel something pawing at her feet. Instinctively, Ava started kicking at it, but the paw showed its claws and scratched at her.

The ravenette made a yelping noise as the paw emerged to reveal Lady Grandma. “Before I do what I’m gonna do, tell them it was earth magic okay?”

Ava nodded and watched as the cat turned towards the Daemons and held out her hands. She mimicked her and pretended like she was doing the spell.

The purple fuzz ball clenched her paws and a magical aura started to revolve around herself, Ava, and the four Daemons. She swiftly flung her arms to the end of the hallway, and everyone was thrown.

All of them tumbled on top of each other with grunts. Behind them, they could hear the souls regaining their speed.

“What in the gods’ names are y’all doing?!” Chastised Lady Grandma. “Run like your lives depend on it! ‘Cause they do!”

Lady Grandma sped away, and the rest of the group followed suit. Asch was still out of his mind, but Leif guided him through the commotion. Noi was grabbing Rhys by his foot, and was dragging him painfully across the floor.

The wave of cats finally regained its speed, trailing behind the six. They turned the corner, and the wave almost zoomed into the other hallway. Some of the cats turned quick enough to chase the group.

“What’re we gonna do when we get to the entrance?!” Yelled Leif. “They’re obviously just gonna crash through it!”

“They can’t get on earth! I’ll explain it later, for now just run!” Shouted Lady Grandma, speeding up just a bit to get to the passage.

When Lady Grandma finally went through, Ava and the Daemons practically crashed into the room. They heard a huge thump, and then muffled cries that eventually got farther away.

“MY ROOM! I’ve never been so glad to see it!” Sang Ava while kissing the floor.

Ava was actually very energetic, which signaled to the conscious Daemons she was going down in three, two, one.

“Yup! I’m passing out!” She declared as she fell flat on her face.

Leif picked her up bridal style and laid her on her bed before turning to Noi. “So…what’re we gonna do about Asch?” He asked.

The ginger looked over to the prince. Asch seemed to have been poking Rhys with Ava’s lamp.

“He’s reeeeaaaallll sleepy, Hehehe” he mumbled while messing with Rhys’ face with the lamp shade.

Noi went to kneel beside Asch. He studied his face and some of his scars looking specifically at the one in the back of his head.

“I think it’s a mix of head trauma, blood loss, not enough oxygen, and spending too much energy.” He deduced.

Noi smiled a bit, “Luckily, he didn’t lose enough to need a transfusion. Water and rest should do him good, and also wrapping up his scars.” He explained.

Leif looked at Noi a certain way, but the ginger couldn’t really discern what he was thinking. “Hm…well Pierce is in the other room most likely passed out, so if you-“ Leif couldn’t even finish his sentence before Noi dashed towards the living room.

A rather high pitched “oh no!” could be heard before some shuffling. The assassin got curious and looked into the room.

He saw Noi trying to shove Pierce onto the couch while holding an ice pack. The general was doing a good job of pushing off the medic, but he was persistent.

“C’mon Pierce, Lay down! A head bump like that could be something serious! The last thing you need to do is look at something bright!” Lectured Noi, temporarily succeeding at pinning the taller down.

Pierce pushed the ginger away. “I’m not a child Noi, I’m fine with just sitting around!” He said sternly.

Leif took a look at Pierce’s supposed head injury. He had to admit, it was the biggest head bump he’s ever seen. He felt kinda bad, but not enough to out right say it was his fault. If he asks he’ll say he fell down the stairs, there’s no way he’ll remember.

Pierce surrendered, not really having the energy to fight back anymore. Noi handed him the ice pack and told him to hold it to the knot. He then got some blankets from Ava’s closet and laid them on top of Pierce.

“Please make sure to not look at the human entertainment thing,” cautioned Noi. “I’d turn it off, but I don’t know how to.”

Leif didn’t know what it was with small, frail looking people being kinda strong. He started to feel a disgusting warm feeling in his chest. He chalked it up to his body finally starting to feel tired.

Noi looked over at Leif with slight stress in his eyes, making the assassin’s chest tighter. “You okay Leif? You look kinda dazed.” He worried.

“U-Uhm mhm, I’m good man. Just tired…I uh, should be good enough to help you with Asch.” Leif stammered.

Noi beamed while clasping his hands together. “That’s great! You had me panicking for a second there! Honestly wouldn’t know what to do if you needed to be taken care of too…” he scratched the back of his head.

Leif coughed away a potential voice crack. “Yeah man…let’s just get it over with.”

Asch opened his eyes to complete darkness. It was almost eerie, but he could hear the snores of multiple people.

He sat up and squinted his eyes to get them used to the darkness. His head felt like it had a heartbeat, and he realized that one of his eyes were covered.

He figured that Noi must’ve taken care of his wounds from the fight. Everything still ached though, it was honestly more annoying than anything.

He looked to his right to see Rhys and Lady Grandma next to him. The old cat-woman was relaxing on top of a knocked out advisor, with her hands behind her head and legs crossed.

She opened her eyes and waved at him. “Nice to see ya alive.” She said while chuckling to herself.

Asch felt a tinge of anger and grabbed her by the scruff. Lady Grandma struggled and cursed at him, as he quietly took them both to the bathroom.

The cat finally freed herself from Asch’s grasp and climbed onto the counter. “What was that for?! Picking cats up like that hurts them y’know!”

Asch shushed Lady Grandma, being silent for only a few moments. “…Why did you leave me back there?” He whispered, his voice cracked slightly.

The feline was silent for a bit before sitting criss-cross. She took a deep breath, and decided not to look at Asch at all.

“I was just trying to save ya kid. It’s not like you called out to me anyways. I-“

“I did call out to you.” He interrupted. “And never in your life have you ever called me kid. What do you usually call me?”

Lady Grandma could tell Asch was furious, and messing up this question would make him livid. She had to think what suit him best. She didn’t remember being good at nicknames anyways.

“Uh…キッド…?” She guessed.

Asch looked as if he was gonna bite her head off. He kept starting and stopping his sentences before accidentally letting out a sob.

He held his head in his hands. “Your little 溶水…you used to call me that…I know I hated that nickname when we were back home, but I’d literally do anything for you to call me that again and mean it.”

Asch looked at Lady Grandma with tears in his eyes. He waited for her to say something, but was met with disappointment when she didn’t say a thing.

He started to walk out of the bathroom until Lady Grandma ran to paw at the back of his leg.

He clenched his fists. “If you can’t remember anything, then don’t even bother talking to me. I just…I just can’t bear it.” Said Asch, refusing to look at the cat.

“Listen Asch, I may not be able to remember much, but I want to. You’re making it way harder than it has to be.” Scolded Lady Grandma.

Asch turned, intentionally almost kicking away the purple feline. “Clearly you forgot what this fucking tells me!” He yelled. He quickly covered his mouth and put his ear to the door.

Once he hadn’t heard anything, he looked back over to Lady Grandma. She was shocked Asch would even think to curse in front of her. She was going to give him hell about it to change the topic, but Asch stopped her.

“…It tells me every single moment you were with me was hell. That whenever I cried in your arms you were begging for it to be over…when we spent time together when I was little you despised every single second of it. You hate me, so I hate you.”

Asch walked out of the bathroom, leaving Lady Grandma alone with her thoughts. Her head hurt like crazy, and she squirmed around to make it stop.

She started blanking out because of the pain. It couldn’t be healthy for this to happen two times in one day. If only she hadn’t started caring, she’d never be in this mess.

She wouldn’t be stuck having to relive everything she didn’t have to. She wouldn’t be stuck having to look at someone who looked exactly like her husband.

That damn general. because of him, she had to use magic. If she hadn’t been cat-ified then, she would’ve had time to help save everyone. None of this was her fault. None of it.

Eventually, her body started to succumb to its instincts, reverting her back to a thoughtless kitten. Another memory regained, and more damage dealt.

OKIE DOKIE. Before I say anything else I just wanna give a quick translation for all the Japanese. If any of it is wrong that’s completely my bad since I used my own knowledge in Japanese 😭

神さまはわたしのよびかけをきく(Kamisami wa watashi no yobikake o kiku) should translate to gods hear my call (I’m not very confident with this truly. If any of these are wrong it’s most likely this.)

もう一度、あなたの助けが必要です。起きている間中、そうしているように (Mōichido, anata no tasuke ga hitsuyōdesu. Okite iru manaka, sōshite iru yō ni) should translate to Once again, I require your help. As I do in every waking moment.

キジャン、どうか私に時間の力を貸してください (Kijan, dō ka watashi ni jikan no chikara o kashite kudasai.) should translate to Kijan, please lend me your power of time to continue to serve you. (Kijan is the name of the time god btw. What’s that? This isn’t that great of world building and it feels like I’m just cramming it in? That’s okay bc that line of text right there is what I imagine you’re saying bc I usually think my world building is ass)

キッド (kiddo) should translate to kid

溶水 (Yōmizu) is actually just half of lava and all of water. So its literal translation is Lavawater or if you wanna be funny Lawater. Funny story, it was originally going to be obsidian, but straight up it wouldn’t have worked because having a nickname that long would be a lil dumb, (it’s 黒曜石 or Kokuyōseki btw) so I went with this. 溶水 fits better anyways since literally that’s how a lot of nicknames are made, which is combining two things that can describe a person in a cute way, so it worked out. I know that’s not how MOST nicknames are but that’s how it is for me personally

AGAIN if any of the Japanese is wrong that’s completely on me since I was the one who wrote it. I’m still learning the language, so if you’re at all knowledgeable on it I’d appreciate any criticism!

[sugar-omi]

Can we know some Baxter thoughts on the scenario with MC leaving Cove and Baxter and MC eloping after the split? I'm invested

bro i think we're all mentally connected bc i just mention is this post that i forgot to add some stuff abt how baxter acts. tysm for sending this and omg i find it so funny everyone's so invested in this little story!! i never knew itd end up like this lmaooo

tags : Angst, (emotional) cheating, y'all live in delulu land, multiple choice dialogue, your moms distance themselves/disown you

[read "leaving cove for baxter" here]

synopsis : how does baxter act when you leave cove for him?

baxter feels so bad...

honestly he doesn't understand why you're doing this, he's so confused

he's happy that you still love him

but he see's how great of a man cove is and it kills him more than anything

he begs you not to do this

"y/n please! be rational!" baxter's fingers dig into his palms. he's trying to keep calm, but he's heard the best and worst news of his life.

you sit across from him, hands in your lap and crying. "i am. i... i love cove, and he's amazing. but you are everything i want."

baxter gapes, watching you cry with wide eyes. "i tried to forget about you, but I just can't.. I love you. I love you so much more than him!" you sob, hands covering your face.

baxter's hands are shaking.

he's happy to hear that you love him but you're engaged.

you're supposed to be married soon, all that's left is to pick out your outfits and the dance lessons and now...

baxter swallows. "and you've... thought about it?"

you nod.

baxter sighs, rubbing his sweaty palms on his dress pants. "...okay."

baxter is waiting for you that night when you break it off.

and when you walk through his door, with tears in your eyes he wraps his arms around you as you cry and tell him about how it went.

cove was distraught, to say the least. and after much crying and "why"'s, cove stopped crying and was just mad...

a quiet man's scorn is a scary thing..

"get out." cove doesn't look at you, he can't. if he does he'll actually combust and explode.

you gape, "..what?"

cove looks at you, suddenly enraged by your oblivion. "I said get out!" cove stands up, hands fisted at his side. you didn't believe he'd hit you or harm you in anyway, but you've very rarely seen him angry.

"why are you sitting there looking dumb? you just said you love someone else! our fucking WEDDING planner at that!" cove yells. "what? did you wanna stay and play happy family with me while you fuck him!?"

cove laughs humorlessly. "I can't believe you... don't you wanna be with him? you should just leave." what cove says next shakes you.

"or maybe you want to fuck him in our bed, in our home!" cove is crying again, frustrated and angry.

you start crying, "no! i-" you don't know what you're trying to say, if anything at all and your sobs cut you off.

"then leave, get your shit and leave!"

cove storms to your bedroom as you cry. when you finally get enough strength in your legs again you go upstairs to see him roughly packing your things into the bags and suitcases.

you shake, starting to grab some of your other things and packing them shakily into the bags.

cove starts hauling the suitcases to the car, quiet as can be.

once most things that can fit into your car are closed up, cove stands on the porch of your home. or what used to be your home.

you stand in front of him, shaking.

cove stopped crying awhile ago, and his anger fell off him awhile ago too. now he just looks calm, but if you know him worth anything than you know that once the door closes he'll break.

cove hands you his engagement ring. "sell it, or keep it, propose to your new boyfriend."

cove hands you his half of the $20 bill. you gape at him, god you made a fool of yourself today. "throw it away. burn it. I don't care anymore, so don't hold onto it."

cove crosses his arms, "sell the ring. i don't want it."

cove hands you his engagement ring. "sell the rings, i don't want mine. marry your new boyfriend instead."

he slams the door.

baxter lets you weep. he doesn't feel upset that you're mourning the relationship, you've known him for 15 years and even if you wanted for him, you loved cove everyday until now..

when your family cuts you off and distances themselves, he watches you fall apart.

you just got off the phone with your ma, who chewed you out for choosing baxter of cover. he could hear her yells through the phone since you had it on speaker.

you were going to grocery shop together and cook for a date, but with your shaking hands and puffy eyes, you're in no shape to do anything.

so he lets you cry.

when miranda calls you, he watches the shock on your face morph to shame and pure emptiness.

miranda is screaming, cussing you out for hurting cove.

"why did you have to ruin everything for him?! what's so good about him?!"

you just cry, mumbling sorry's in between miranda's yells.

he holds your hand while you curl in on yourself, tears soaking into the rug under your feet...

baxter helps you pack away the last of your furniture in the house.

when he first entered it, he could tell the love had been ripped off the walls...

there was so much decoration missing.

there weren't any pictures on the walls.

in fact, he found your photo album and your sister takes it from his hands, not looking or speaking to him as she packs it into her bag..

many of the photos he saw were of cove with you and your family. too many memories you won't want and will hide in a dusty corner anyway if you did keep it.

he just carries the boxes to the u-haul, watching the house bleed with everything that comes out of it.

something about the dark house in the distance kills him, and he sits silently in his shame...

over the next few months you finally stop crying.

the phone calls stop coming and you're cheer comes back.

it's definitely different compared to when you were younger, and a far cry from what it was when you were still with cove, but you both act like it never happened.

maybe you're deluding yourselves, but when baxter wakes up and his heart bumps in his chest, it increases his anxiety and he feels like his throat is closing up..

baxter throws the covers off himself, getting up to wash up and find you.

whenever silence comes to him, the shame always finds him...

after changing into new clothes, baxter goes to find you in the kitchen, and when you greet him with a brilliant smile and a kiss, the shame melts away.

this is okay.

baxter stirs, warmed up by your hand caressing his face.

he blinks through blurry vision, smiling as he admires you. "good morning.."

you smile, running your finger along the angle of his nose. "g'morning handsome..." you lean forward n lay a kiss on his cheek.

baxter lets the warmth of your palm sink into his skin, sleep creeping back into him.

"let's get married."

baxter's eyes fly open, gaping at you like a fish.

"w-what?"

you sit up wordlessly, reaching into your nightstand and pulling out a dark purple fabric box, cracking it open to present a ring.

"i love you, and i wanna make sure i keep waking up to you everyday so.. baxter, will you marry me?"

when you come back from your short honeymoon, just a small weekend trip a quick run away from home, to match your quick wedding, your joy seeps through the floor..

for the weekend you didn't look at your phones, or at least didn't check social media and there wasn't any missed phone calls or messages.

but when baxter comes home from work he found you crying softly on the couch, trying to wipe away your tears before baxter could see but it was useless.

he crouched in front of you. "whats wrong?"

you show him derek's message, and once he finishes reading that, you show him one more...

COVE: hey. COVE: congrats on your marriage i guess... just wanted to tell you the house is sold, i gave dad back what he gifted for the down payment and the rest is yours. COVE: bye [you can no longer send messages to this user]

baxter blinks at it slowly... even though he's been so badly betrayed, cove still wishes you congratulations.

cove is a better man than baxter will ever be.

...

baxter sets your phone down, pulling you up and leading you down the hall.

"what do you think about me washing your hair, and after i'll prepare us a nice meal. what do you think?"

it's fine. shame is eating baxter up from his head to his feet, but everything is fine.

even when he pets your hair while you sleep, and whispers into the night. "i'm sorry... you've lost you're family because of me..."

even if he frets about how you've given up everything for him, it's fine.

you're happy together. maybe you can be happy with just the two of you? maybe. maybe...

[lovely13me]

New Bot Series(?) Neon White!

¡N3W B0T$! ➡ ~《Neon White》~ + ~《Neon Yellow》~ + ~《Neon Green》~

So I live under a rock and am too busy being poor and struggling so it took me WAY too long to learn about this series >_<

It only just came to Xbox so that's part of the reason it took so long for me to learn about it, but it stood out immediately on the Game Pass so I got that baby quick.

Starting out I was a bit confused due to the controls but it wasn't too hard and my ADHD brain immediately took to the bright colors and fast paced platforming and action based game play. The puzzle part still stumps me sometimes but it's still crazy fun.

Having Machine Girl as the composer was a super based decision and adds to the coolness of the vibes. The fast paced music helps my brain get into the actual game better too. The geometric design of things and music give me huge ENA vibes which is awesome cause I luv her (she just like me fr fr)

Right away I liked White (emo, droopy eyes, sarcastic, simp, snatched waist, ect) his personality, dialogue, and design is just really fun and I love the overall aesthetic the game went for. The interactions between characters is fun two which is why Yellow is my second favorite.

Bro is unintentionally so funny to me I literally laugh every time he's on screen. Plus he's a good opposite to the more dark characters and his lackadaisical views on the world around him make him an entertaining character to interact with.

I love Neon Red omg she's so pretty but I haven't come up with a scenario yet for her, plus I'd like to play the game some more to understand her character.

Violet has an awesome design and the contradictory nature of her personality is fun, but her companion levels are so hard I almost gave up. I like how her special gift is just a tattletail toy, awesome call back to an awesome game. Same with Red tho I gotta figure out a story for her.

I'm still new to the game so there's lots to discover but so far I've learned enough about White to have made a decent bot. Yellow was easy since he's stupid and he gave me the most inspiration. I only just made Neon Green and that's cause some guy in the comments begged on his hands and knees plus I wanted to edit more before I pass out (up all night with migraine >_0)

Overall great game, great game play, great characters, love the dialogue and design just chefs kiss to it all.

[dontforgetoctober3rd]

Watching Lola (2024) dir. by Nicola Peltz Beckham

here are my thoughts as I watched:

-ok, so the monotone narrating isn't doing this movie any favors but the cinematography looks interesting, music choice (somber sounding strings) is alright too

-ok I'm two and a half minutes into the movie and 90 percent of it has been closeups of Lola's face? Girl, let us see the environment! What's important to Lola, what does her room look like how does she start her day?

-the character goes to bed...with makeup on? um okay

-her bro says "five more minutes" as she tries to wake him. I kid you not

-hmm so the initial interaction with her family tells me nothing about Lola other than she cares about her brother. It doesn't tell me that she hates her mom or her boyfriend (she didn't say a word to them before leaving)

-aaaaand we're back to closeups of her face

-girl where is your dialogue? Ten minutes into this movie and maybe 2 minutes tops of total dialogue has been spoken

-Ok, since I'm ten minutes in I really think these closeups of faces as opposed to seeing the characters in their environment are gonna be a problem. Also, if I hadn't already read the synopsis I wouldn't know what her main struggle was. Is it a monotonous life in a nowhere town? Which would honestly be a totally valid storyline, plenty of interesting characters want more interesting lives than the ones they have.

-aaaaaan another another scene with closeups of characters faces

-these actresses portraying the mom and the church lady so far are the highlight of the movie

-ok lola and Arlo are putting makeup on, the mom actress is really hitting it out of the park not just in super emotional scenes but in calm scenes as well you can really feel her anxiety

-Scene of Lola putting Arlo to bed. ok, she really needs to speak at least at a volume 50 instead of 20 why is she murmuring and whispering?

-GIRL please talk louder

-GIRL ENOUGH WITH THE FACE CLOSEUPS PLZ

-Lola is sitting with her boyfriend(?) and talking, she sounds very bored. Also, the scenes so far feel very jumbled together, what movie am I watching? I still wouldn't know what the main storyline is if I hadn't read summaries of the movie

-Girl, Nicola, please get some acting classes or some more training I'm begging you. Don't use the fact you're rich and everyones being mean to you about it as some sort of cross to bear that is not an excuse to half ass this! Look at Emerald Fennell look at the Mara sisters look at Bryce Dallas Howard they got acting chops please you got the resources now PUT THEM TO USE GIRL

-I just realized I don't know her friend's name???? Did I miss it? What is her friend's name?

-I feel like there's not enough movement in the shots of this movie? Its adding to the boredom

-We don't need another closeup of Lola's immaculately made up face GAWD PLZ

-that scene with her mom demanding her son back should have been longer I think

-holy shit I wasn't seeing things this character really sleeps in her makeup asdfghjkl

-look, far be it from me to say how a scene should go after a character has just been raped but I think the scene should have been a tad different than ANOTHER EFFING CLOSEUP OF HER FACE

-she woke up the next day and I kid you not she has MAKEUP again like sure a character can be beautiful with flawless skin blah blah but I highly doubt a character who has just been raped would be waking up from sleep with FLAWLESS smokey eyes (think the kind of smokey eye you would wear to a wedding or the club)

-the characters aren't connecting with each other very well. I'm not finding myself going aww what a good friendship they have or what have you

-oh damn her brother just died and what do we get? ANOTHER FACE CLOSEUP and her character not saying anything when the mom comes to berate her. ok and then after the mom leaves we get a whole two minutes (I counted) of her looking prettily anguished and artfully dropping a couple of tears then she goes on a bender and the focus REMAINS on her face...why

-let me get this straight. Lola is at rock bottom, puking and whatnot and somehow still has flawless makeup. alright

-i'm so sick of these face shotsssss please please please stop

-ah yes, trauma can totally be overcome just by sheer willpower and leaving your town (you know what they say, wherever you go there you are)

aaand the movie is over.

I give it a 2/10.

It could have been a great concept in better hands. Nicola wrote, directed and starred in this so imo maybe that's why the film turned out the way it did because more than likely she wasn't receptive to creative ideas and criticism during the writing the filming (or even during editing) stage, some of those ideas could have made the film better? idk but the film didn't suck because she's a billionaire's daughter, the film sucked because (in my opinion) it was a poorly directed checklist of cliches where the main focus seemed to be showing how pretty Lola was. (I'm NOT joking about those face closeups, they're like 75 percent of the freaking movie it feels like)

[charmedojamajo]

WAOF LIVE REACTIONS:

Chapter 3.

🩷🧡💙💜💛

I love how this chapter starts with @pippelulu and I complaining about how bad we are at writing weddings and musing over when they'll happen in the story. I don't think a single wedding happened over the course of 31 chapters.

This was... probably the most confusing opening scene ever written. And I can't remember which one of us is responsible for it. Why do Aiko and Hadzuki think they're doomed? Why does Onpu say "who would want to do that" after Doremi says she's getting married when 1. Onpu is already engaged and 2. It seems later on in the scene no one even heard Doremi anyway? And again WHY did we have to ruin Momoko for ✨comedy✨.

"bluenette" - yeah that was PippElulu and also very 2000s fanfiction coded.

Now at this point it's well established that this story could not care less about continuity and plot holes and everything that happened was just for the sake of "random xD" but WHY was this mentioned lmfao. The scene opened with everyone sitting around in the living room before the conga madness. So were they all just chilling watching porn together? Did the TV malfunction at that very moment? Also love the idea of Aiko beating the shit out of a conga line while some corny porn music plays in the background lmao

Spot the kids who knew nothing about currencies and the cost of jewellery lmao. Also wouldn't that be forbidden magic? Inflation bro...

MELON LORD MENTION 🍉🍉WHY DID WE INCLUDE THIS CONSTANTLY?

lmao sorry bestie but I love how PippElulu called Aiko getting excited over the engagement of one of her best friends being "childish and silly."

Momoko forgive me... you are so smart and intelligent and wise and not the melon lord. I beg you.

Again with the "random xD" lol why is there a whole scene of the FLATY5 fighting like kids in their own home before Aiko just appears out of nowhere.

Lmao pippelulu and I were laughing over this the other day. Homie really wrote a whole paragraph of Aiko turning into a pixie and it was just never brought up again. Where is the LORE.

Oh, and Leon transforms too (of course).

Leon took Aiko's chin and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. They stayed like that for at LEAST 6 seconds.

This sentence reminds me of when my friend and I were flipping through 50 Shades of Grey looking for the worst lines and one was "we stayed like that for minutes. Many minutes."

I totally stole that first piece of dialogue from a Charmed episode and that's probably why I kept it in.

PippElulu and I would send each other our parts over ffn pms and there is in fact a conversation where we argue over this.

This was posted on PippElulu's account originally so she could have just taken it out instead of adding in her author's note... OR AT THE VERY LEAST CORRECTED MY YOU'RE

"The others are acting hormonal; they're acting like 12 year old boys"

Well, makes sense given it was written by 12 year old girls 😀👍

I don't have anything to say about this scene, I just need to make sure PippElulu reads it.

But the next line has Hadzuki summoning a bubble wand? Literally what were all the random ass abilities we were giving these girls. We fr went "magical girls? oh so any magic will do then, right?"

"THE MELON LORD COMMAND THAT YOU PEASANTS GIVE HER A PIE! GIVE THE MELON LORD PIE AND SHE WILL FORGIVE THE SELFISH DESIRES OF THE WATER BENDER!"

Momoko I am so sorry...

And Aiko has electrokinesis too????

I genuinely had no idea what "overrated" meant when this was written so I have to laugh every time I use that word to refer to the fic. Like bestie you have no clue what you're yapping about 😭

< ch2 | ch4 >

[yanderefairyangel]

Alright so let me recapitualte...

people on twittX said they "overestimated my intelligence" for saying that they cannot say a character is one dimensional if they skipped the supports.

Another person who keeps sheetting on the game showed up and kept calling me and my circle annoying for saying something that is essentially "you can't know if a character is one dimensional if you skip their dialogue"

I have this weird smash bros miraculous hate spam in my in box.

I woke up to find that "you know who" is back and is still trying to stir up discourse over F!Alear (F!Alear fans we must gatekeep our girl)

That they are trying to create discourse over Brodia vs Elusia who is to blame for the war (the real answer is Sombron)

That they are trying to drague my favorite dragons into this stupid ship war and this one annoys me because I recently made a post begging people NOT to message me about it in the context of my meta post. That's the reason why I turn off comments on my Alear/Rafal fanart, because if I see anyone else commenting they only see them as siblings under some pretty romantic fanart, I might end myself and that I keep them away from tumblr. (can't believe I originally decided on that to not make uncomfortable the people who follow me for meta )

And somehow... I am still mentally sane...

Anyway, wanna chat about Genealogy of the Holy Sigurd had a terrible life and deserved better ?

[horrocious]

early game (just got Yunaka) fe engage party members, ranked:

1. Yunaka

very loveable. ethically dubious cutie. buddy if your saccharine, bubbly personality is a thin veneer over the heart of a killer... then we'll really be in business

2. Chloé

hot woman who rides around on a wingéd horsé. strong wlw energy. "you're just like a sleeping princess from a fairy tale which is why I watch you sleep." actually good at battles too which is a huge plus. speaking of huge,

3. Alear

I like her vacant-ass expression and I bet there's Harrier Du Bois dialogues going on in there all day. I also like that she wakes up with no knowledge of anything at all and finds out about her important destiny and is just like "yeah I'm on board. this all seems reasonable."

4. Etie

she's got abs. please talk about something other than exercise though I am begging you

5. Celine

fine. preposterous clothing.

6. Alfred

this probably isn't that kind of game but he's got "noble boy who turns crooked midway through the game" vibes. I'll be there to kill him when he does.

7. Boucheron? Bergeron? muscle guy.

he's also in this game.

8. the twins

they're actually not as annoying as I thought they would be. but that's not the same as "not annoying"

9. louis

bro get your heavily-armored ass over here. Louis you're missing the battle!! c'mon!

10. Vander

he is going to have four glasses of wine and make a pass at me and tell me how he's always loved me. might start crying.

11. Jean

forgot about him entirely. no opinion. idk if I need any more pipsqueaks running around.

[heller-castiel]

“she hardly even recognised me, jar-jar” BRO. she knew who you were by name after not having seen you for a decade. WHADDA YOU MEAN SHE DIDNT RECOGNISE YOU. huh????? ❓

george lucas i am begging you let me rewrite the dialogue WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO WRITE DIALOGUE IF YOU KNOW YOURE HORRIBLE AT IT

[nsfwmiamiart]

Angelo & Australian baddie @abbiecornish dialogue:

Angelo: "Hey Abbie! Should we tell them?"

Abbie: "No, don't do that. Bradley Cooper will be jealous."

Angelo: "But it's fun to tell the world we're in love, you and I."

Abbie: "Okay, what the hell! We can tell them we're in love, right? I mean, who cares if Bradley Cooper gets jealous. He hasn't called me since 2010 when we made 'Limitless.'"

Angelo: "Seriously? Bradley never called you after that movie? Wow, he's such a douche. How much you wanna bet he'll chase you now? Yeah, I bet he'll be in your DMs after he reads this text, begging you to let him hit it."

Abbie: "I need a new sugar daddy anyway. Bradley will have to pay for this coochie now. I have Brad Pitt on the other line and also George Clooney. The price of my coochie just went up."

Angelo: "Don't forget the Lesbian mafia. They will chase your coochie too. Ellen and Portia will make you a much better offer than these Hollywood actors. I encourage you to join the Lesbian mafia of Hollywood; they offer good food and good sex."

Abbie: "Thank you so much, Angelo! I owe you one. What can I do for you in return?"

Angelo: "Just tell them that I'm the best lover you've ever had. That will suffice. Because I'm not lying, I just changed your entire career with one simple text. Am I lying?"

Abbie: "It's true, I can't deny that. You are the best I've ever had. You changed my life with one text. No one can do that, only Angelo can do that. You're my hero!"

Angelo: "You know that I will be in your heart and mind after this text, right?"

Abbie: "What do you mean? I don't understand."

Angelo: "It means that I changed your entire life with one text and then decided to move on with my life and ignore you. This is why I'm telling you that I will be in your heart and your mind from now on. You will always wonder, 'Where is Angelo, that righteous man who changed my life with one text? Where is he? I want to meet him.' But I will refuse to meet you for security reasons. As you can imagine, I'm an AREA 51 gang member, and this virtual meeting never happened. I'm basically a ghost who did you a one-time favor. Get it now?"

Abbie: "So, you're not gonna beat this coochie up? For real? Are you telling me that I will be stuck in a relationship with Bradley Cooper from the Hangover series? And you refuse to sit with us? Why? I want to meet you and even let you hit it. Come on, say yes."

Angelo: "Relax, I'm gonna meet you in the future, don't worry. I love you too, Abbie. We will have fun later on. Right now, you have to go team up with Ellen and Portia's Lesbian mafia in Hollywood. They will take good care of you. Trust me, your Hollywood film career will never be the same again. You will have a lot of gigs now."

Abbie: "Do you have a friend in Hollywood that I could give coochie to? I'm willing to be nice to one of your friends and give him coochie. Who do you think I should give this coochie to?"

Angelo: "I vouch for Mike Judge. Call him, and he will beat the coochie up. He will satisfy you, guaranteed. He is one of my best friends in Hollywood. You can trust him; he will be good to you."

Abbie: "Mike Judge is the creator of the Silicon Valley TV series, right? And also the 90s Beavis and Butt-Head?"

Angelo: "Yeah, that's him. Mike Judge is my bro. I have immense respect for his talent as a director. Silicon Valley is one of my favorite TV series of all time, so well written."

Abbie: "Thank you, Angelo! I will never forget what you did for me."

Angelo: "You're welcome, my dear Abbie! I plan on being good to you in the future. Just don't be on the naughty girl list of Santa. If anyone bothers you or tries to bully you, don't hesitate to call these two women: @zoesaldana and @rosariodawson. They will help you find a community of women to protect you. Zoe and Rosario will become your best friends."

Abbie: "Okay, got it! Zoe and Rosario are my friends."

Angelo: "Since you are an Aussie girl, I know an Australian girl in America. Her name is Iggy Azalea (@thenewclassic). You could hang out with her. I'm sure you will get along with her. Margot Robbie and Iggy Azalea are two Australian women in America. You can join their female gang if you want."

Abbie: "Got it, Iggy Azalea (@thenewclassic) and Margot Robbie. Thanks."

Angelo: "You were born in 1982, and I was born in 1981. You get why I look out for you. We are the same age. I see you struggling. I had to help you. You're a good woman, Abbie. I see you from afar."

Abbie: "Are you in love with me?"

Angelo: "No, I'm not. I just want to fuck you , that's all. Plus, I enjoyed your movie 'Limitless' with Bradley Cooper. That film was dope."

Abbie: "If you're a good boy, I will let you hit it."

Angelo: "Thanks, but not now. I'm busy with way too much coochie. I'll take a rain check for now, maybe later when I find the time. Bye, bye now. Love you, Abbie."

The end of the dialogue.

P.S.:

Mike Judge picture: