headshot.

collision course, nyx.

His mumbled reply makes her grin but she doesn’t say anything else on the subject, instead pays attention to his story- and bursts into giggles. “Talon.. oh. that’s so .. hilarious. I mean I get why you don’t use it but, it doesn’t seem half as bad as you make it out to be.” She retorts. “And hey, don’t get cocky, I was just saying. You might combust into flames or something. But it’s not stupid per say.. it’s just- listen you’re delusional, how am I going to sleep with you with that nickname. I know, I’ll just pretend I don’t know it.” She flicks a pepperoni his way with a roll of her eyes. “A fond past time in my teenage years.” Nyx teases.

“How did you finish already, I still have half of my slice left, slow down. You guys and your ability to inhale food like it’s the last day on earth I swear.” Tsking in disapproval, she continues to munch on her half eaten pizza, kicking her feet idly.

#p #p!nyx #p!collision #nyxnxm #( screAMS U R 2 QT )

A deep blush tints his pale cheeks pink, and his lips break into a toothy smile from what he would describe as a good kind of embarrassment. Nose scrunches at her attempt to console him, and he playfully throws back, “neither is Zoey!” He tilts his head to the side, carefully observing her expression while simultaneously giving her a look, “come on, Zoey honestly isn’t that bad.” He finds it rather amusing how she brings up the fact that she will sleep with him in the future so easily, so unlike the coyness he usually finds in girls. He supposes in that sense, she’s like a breath of fresh air, not bothering to hide what she wants in order to make herself seem more attractive. It’s a new approach, and he’s not hating it. Arms fly forward to defend himself from the stray pepperoni she’s thrown at him, but he’s too late. With a shake of his head, he moves to pick it up, ineffectively brushing off any stain that might form as he pops the piece into his mouth.

“We’re growing men, love,” he defends himself and the male population, “take a good look: real men eat like this.” And he moves to grab another piece, eating it with the same level of grace as he did before.

myungsooxm

preview , ( t e )

myungsooxm

to his credit, changmin says little about the man’s miss ( or the one that follows ). instead, his focus shifts to watch the cresting of the waves for any sign of interference; not knowing much about his chosen partner, it’s the better alternative than openly questioning his ability to complete their one, single task. “what happened?” enunciating carefully, he unfurls the net hung over his arm and holds it across his torso—“maybe they’re not looking to be dinner tonight.”

maybe it isn’t the best joke he could’ve made, but changmin can’t bring himself to care too much—

instead, he steps closer to the water’s edge and allows ( for once ) his power to fill the gaps that physical ability leaves behind. the net lifts from his fingers, flying outward in a large arc that follows his focus; pure telekinetic energy cuts through the air, invisible to the naked eye but all the same influent on the network of strings that dives into the depths, spread wide.

he gives it all of a minute before he spreads each end beneath the water and pulls the net back toward them where they stand.

if it would benefit someone ( even one person, he imagines ), why did it feel so wrong to use?

“i’m sure they can’t escape this one.” murmuring, the male chances a look at his companion, lips curving into an echo of a smile. damp hands disappear into the pockets of his jeans, and his focus slides back to the tips of a half-full net ascending from the water. granted, it wasn’t as many as he’d hope, but the rapid motion of flipping tails and gaping fishy faces has him pleased.

it’s a good enough catch to feed a couple of people.

though, having seen some of the more physically unique characteristics of their student body, it isn’t out of the question to gather more.

just in case.

“if you can drive them into the net, we can catch more.” while he digs around in the bag set over his shoulder, changmin takes a moment to regard the man, head tilted while he unrolls a large tarp on the ground to deposit their dinner. the emptied net settles back in his hand—“does that sound good?”

#p #p!changmin #p!preview #nxmchangmin #( ........so i maaaay have forgotten what our plot was BUT THIS IS APPROPRIATE TOO RIGHT? )

What happened is a series of him missing his targets, which has never happened—and is never supposed to happen—for someone who claims to possess the ability of weapon mastery; meaning, he doesn’t know what happened. There is a brief moment when he wonders if he’s lost his power, or maybe he’s gotten it wrong all this time and he’s just a natural talent—which perhaps isn’t too unbelievable, as his ability does not breach human limitations. So he’s rendered flabbergasted, jaw loose as he glares intently at his weapon planted firmly in the sand, as though his weapon could be scared into working. Said anger is directed at Changmin when he jests; usually, Eggsy’s a happy-go-lucky guy who could take a joke—especially one that made him the brunt of it, let alone one that isn’t pertaining to him at all—but given the niggling doubt hidden in the recesses of his mind, the latter’s joke initially sounds mocking.

“That’s too fucking bad, innit?” he drawls rather rudely, “because they’re going to be dinner tonight, one way or another.”

And it turns out he’s right; only not in the way he wants to be. Because there the telekinetic is, outplaying him in ways he cannot even dream to achieve, even if his power were in full function. And as if he’s not humiliated enough, Eggsy stares, mouth agape, as the net dives into the water with the help of an unseen force and catches a good ten fishes. And the guy doesn’t even have to wave his hands in the air in some clichéd, David Blaine-esque manner; no, he just fucking stands there, hands in his pocket, as though this feat is a walk in the park.

Well, fuck.

Green with envy, Eggsy dips his hand into the water, fingers curling around the handle of the blade before he yanks it out of the water, face set permanently into a scowl. Because it is not like him to give up without a fight, even though the chances of him winning is zero to nil—much like this situation. He aims at the fish huddling around his feet—because they’re not even scared of him anymore—but he hesitates, knowing in his gut that the chances of him missing are very high, then wondering why, for the first time ever, he feels this way. But he goes for it anyway, and alas, his knife sticks into the sand, ahead of the fish. (A part of him finds it uncanny how it always lands straight above where he’s aimed, but he doesn’t dwell on it.)

Head jerks up at Changmin’s voice, and every word he says further deepens Eggsy’s scowl. “You mean can I miss, and somehow manipulate their path to make sure they’re headed for your net through my miss?” his sentence doesn’t make much sense, really, but nothing about today does, “sounds fucking perfect, bruv, except I don’t miss.” Which is quite ironic, considering his failed attempts. He realises how stupid that must sound—also realises that he’s being rude to the boy when all he’s trying to do is gather fish so others won’t go to bed hungry, while he’s busy nursing his bruised ego—so he lets out a deep sigh, face relaxing to give off something akin to a more sombre expression.

“I don’t usually miss. I’m not usually a little bitch, either. But I just— I don’t know what’s happening to me, or where my power’s gone,” he confesses, head shaking at this little breakdown, “but yeah, I’ll find a way to drive the food to your net. Come on, cast the net with your superpower, Simon Peter.” And in a weak attempt to drive the fishes to the net, he kicks at the lake water towards Changmin’s direction.

college ways, suji.

So apparently there’s a new kid joining the tight circle of bartenders. Eggsy is well aware of who she is. He’s seen her around campus, because after his first run-in with a mutant outside of Xavier’s, he’s going to make damn sure he knows if he needs to watch out for himself, especially if they are armed with life-threatening powers and an attitude to boot. It’s one thing to offend a non-mutant, it’s another thing entirely to pick fights with those who have powers that far surpasses his own.

But from what he’s heard, her power isn’t particularly dangerous—at least, not the type that could burst his eardrums or blind him for life—so he lets go of all inhibitions, choosing instead to welcome her to their crowd in a human way.

Eyes zoom in on the little thing when she walks through the open door, a shit-eating grin plastered on his lips.

“Welcome to your first—but hopefully not last—day on the job, love,” he greets, elbows leaning on the counter as he leans closer, scrutinising her features. She’s quite the pretty one, he decides, and his lips part to reveal his rows of teeth at the thought. Pushing himself away from the counter, Eggsy lifts his hand to reveal the item he’s holding onto: namely, a beer bong. And he hooks his fingers around the handle of the six pack of beer, revealing it from behind the counter.

“We have a tradition here: if you can finish this six pack with this,” and he points to the beer bong, “and survive happy hour, you get to keep the job. Otherwise…” Kikwang stick his thumb out and runs it along his neck cheekily. Filled with enthusiasm, he snatches the first can of the six pack, opening the can as he hands her the beer bong.

“Happy hour starts in a few. For your sake, I sure hope you can hold your liquor.”

#p #p!college #p!suji #nxmsuji

collision course, nyx.

“Shh.” She murmurs, shaking her head as she went for another bite of pizza. “It sounds like the name of a fifteen year old tween girl.” Nyx laughs, covering her mouth as she did so. “At least yours fits your face.” Shaking her head, she clicks the lock button on her phone and sets it aside. Realizing that she had let her guard down considerably causes her to wonder what exactly what it was about this particular male that was so different from the others. Of course she had judged him rather harshly at first, but in all reality he wasn’t too bad.

“Okay, must I go and analyze your nickname again?” She remarks gripping her soda, though a grin remains on her lips. “But I’m glad you see how befitting it is.” Giving a dramatic flip of her hair, she snorts. “He’s a Norse god actually. Zeus is Greek. You’re more… Kratos or Helios. Take your pick. God of strength and power-” She pauses to give a teasing waggle of her eyebrow. “- or the god of the sun. You seem to have this weird.. warmth thing going for you.”

#p #p!nyx #p!collision #nyxnxm #( the quality of this reply is probs lower than the 9 lvls of hEL L #bu t activity is always good---#and idk why i make him seem so unappealing lol sry :/ )

Eggsy shrugs at her lowly opinion of her real name, not particularly sharing it. “I like it,” he mutters, but doesn’t dwell much on it—perhaps this is him waving the white flag and agreeing to disagree. Brows furrow in parts humour and confusion at her evaluation of his name, because he’s always thought it to be odd. “I’m very insulted,” he jokes, then leans in to share, “You know when I was younger, I went on a school-planned zoo trip, and when we visited the chickens, one of the many things she brought up were its talons.” And this is where he starts laughing, because the memory—though scarring initially—is now quite humorous, though it still manages to bring about a light blush to his cheeks. “She had a horrible lisp, and she couldn’t pronounce her l’s and r’s,” he says after bouts of laughter, “so when she said talons, everyone thought she was talking to me! Took us all a while to get what she was trying to say, but the damage was done.”

He sobers up, head still shaking at the memory, now fresh in his mind. But he listens to her despite being slightly distracted, and takes a bite of his nearly forgotten pizza slice. Eggsy’s brows raise in surprise at the compliment, and his hands go to his heart in jest. “I never thought you’d describe me as warm. The world must be ending,” he jokes, “but those names sound fucking weird. ‘Pass me the ketchup, will ya, Kratos?’” Head shakes as the name rolls of his tongue, amused smile plastered on his lips, “nah, I’ll stick with Eggsy—even though it sounds stupid, according to the mysterious Goddess.” And he sends her a pointed look, before shoving the last bit of his slice past his lips.

kingsmannetwork

#vis #( how does someone look cute #when they're upset )

Upset Eggsy

xyfxjinhee-deactivated20160815

a helping hand, taeyeon.

[ ☽ ] The female couldn’t help but let out a loud whine at the mention of the other not being able to fulfill her wishes. It wasn’t a surprise, but she just really wanted to get out of this class at the moment. She was pretty sure she looked like hell right now. (when did she not)

Continuing to run, she quirked an eyebrow at the other. Why was he even still here. Not to be rude, of course, but Taeyeon didn’t even know this person. He was nice so it didn’t really bother her that much. Hearing the other speak, she glanced at him before nodding. ❝I could..but I can still run.❞ She would have taken a break a lot sooner if she wanted to, but she didn’t because it would have made her look bad. Plus, you always had to push yourself at times.

She blinked a few times before sending the other a look. It wasn’t like she was judging him. She wasn’t. (Okay that was a complete lie) It was a mixture of ‘what the fuck’ mixed with ‘bOOYYY if you don’t move-’ ❝I’m on my second lap. I’m taking my time right now.❞ She huffed. How dare this person question her running. ❝Not to sound rude, but why are you still here.❞ It didn’t exactly come out as she expected. There was a hint of annoyance in her tone,but she tried her best to conceal it. The fact that she had to run was annoying enough, but to have a stranger run with her? Why? ❝I mean- I enjoy the company and what not, but I don’t even know your name.❞

#p #p!taeyeon #p!helping #nxmyeonnie #( ....................so is this gonna turn cute #o r #idk what is going on anymore!!!1 ---- )

Perhaps Eggsy was being a little too obvious. It’s not that he’s competing with her—okay, so he’s competing, but not with her specifically, just with everyone who’s actually running. But because Eggsy isn’t particularly the brightest guy in the room, he doesn’t see how his question may have come off as condescending, so he pegs her frustration on the race, instead. So he takes what she says with a grain of salt, a small, breathy laugh rolling off his tongue at the question.

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure if you were behind or ahead of me,” he confesses, shrugging nonchalantly, “but that doesn’t matter. I’ll keep you company instead.” Because despite his competitiveness, he does care for her wellbeing somewhat; she does seem a little off today, and he’s going to feel really bad if she were to suddenly faint and he didn’t do anything about it. He knows what it’s like to try to conceal any and all kinds of weaknesses he may have, and he supposes it’s that bit he sees in her that draws him to her. (Plus, he hasn’t noticed this before, but she’s kind of cute under all the sweat and grime, of course.)

“Now you do: I’m Eggsy,” he introduces between breaths, angling his head to look at her, “what’s yours?” It’s probably not the best case scenario to strike up a conversation, but he’s hardly out of breath yet, and being as dim as he is, he doesn’t consider the fact that she might be out of breath. (But oh, he never learns.)

collision course, nyx.

“Oooh, Taronnnn. I like it. But whatever you say.” She sends a grin and then shrugs innocently. “I was just wondering because let’s be real, that isn’t the most common name around. Don’t worry though that is definitely not one of my fetishes.” Nyx replies with a shake of her head, followed by a swift (but gentle) kick to his leg. “Excuse you.”

Admittedly she laughs into her soda at his face, rolling her eyes. “Okay, first off I’ve had the name Nyx since I was in middle school, it just stuck. So the only one who calls me this is my mother, when she’s angry. But, it’s..” She trails off with a grimace. “Zoey. My entire name is Zoey Elizabeth Blythe, but everyone calls me Nyx, don’t call me Zoey, I’ll punt you.”

“Also the goddess crap is still true, everyone always thought I was much too hotheaded, deserved something else, so my best friend at the time who was basically obsessed with Greek Mythology started calling me Nyx, thus here I am.”

#p #p!nyx #p!collision #nyxnxm

Eyes roll at her drawl, but the smile his lips adopt proves that he is far from annoyed, merely feigning annoyance. He’s perhaps not as averse to being called Taron as she is her real name—after all, he wouldn’t have enrolled himself as Taron rather than Eggsy if he truly hated it—but obviously, he prefers to be called Eggsy. It’s simply a preference thing, being used to his nickname because it’s what his mother and friends have always called him. But he can’t help but tease her at her none too concealed threat, grin widening as he mimics her drawl, “oh, Zoey.”

Almost naturally, knees curl inward, legs hiding underneath the chair to defend himself in case she decides to kick him again. Of course, it’s playful and it barely hurts; this is him being playful too, in a way.

A laugh rolls past his lips, head nodding in agreement, “I completely agree with your friend.” Lips curl into a smile, “though using Greek myth is a little cliché, innit? Still, I get the picture, Goddess of the night.”

Head shaking at the thought, he wonders aloud, “I wonder which God I’d be. Zeus? Or is it Thor? That’s the only one I know, and God knows if he’s even Greek.”

udodette-deactivated20160107

( preeminent ) e ㄨ s

The woman was known around every territory her feet has come across to. Disregarding at it was solely on her household to wider places such as the military. Labels would always cling around her petite frame, scaring her a few times that sink in her mind and the words would pop constantly on every situation that may across as relevant. Such titles that were crowned such as powerful, master and senior due of the heavy technique and natural talent she possessed on such fragile exterior. Seolhyun wasn’t precocious nor narcissistic nor bellowed others to be able to retain herself to be superior. Such trivial trait only managed to let an scoff roll off from the tip of her tongue and proceed to develop her ability for the better. Her fingers grip towards the weapon would crash upon the floor leaving an certain echo rush over on how much hatred that filtered on her power. It had dragged her to certain point that only for such thing those titles and ego could be fueled even if she wouldn’t be swiped on such. She thought that but such thought was replaced with another lingering one due of an certain individual that possessed an similar powers as herself. Weapon proficiency, an variety of the power that weapon manipulation didn’t inherit upon the brewing blood and flexible limbs. Yet, there he was and they were pursing on a battle. Per say, an fencing one just for the sake of having fun as she ignored the igniting flame that wavered with rivalry towards the other but as mentioned, just for fun.

( don’t let my own powers start to go insane. )

Her footsteps reaching the arena as her petite frame was covered with an bodysuit covered with an certain fabric and her slender fingers reaching for the metallic sword like. In her own opinion, such thing shouldn’t be considered an weapon. It was utilized for an sport that intended any damage but she could sense the thrill and adrenaline that was rushing that caressed her cold bones that made her feel an sense of alive. Her head snapping upwards tilting once hearing the voice of the supervisor who was intrigued by how the results would turn out. ❝ Ah, thank you so much professor for coming to supervise. I promise from my behalf that there won’t be any destruction that will occur. ❞ Her dulcet tone inducing that made the sense of security falter despite the easiness was rushing on her stomach. Her thoughts were disrupted once again hearing the male voice enter on the place.

( ah, ready to start? )

Once again, her head turned towards the opposite direction. There he was, the male with sharp features and an athletic build, seeming to emit confidence in such. An smile tinged on the corner of her lips, one that was filled with mischief but the chaste intention on hopping to have an good fight like any good sportsman. ❝ Eggsy! ❞ Seolhyun called, her arm raising as she waved eagerly. ❝ Ready to loose? ❞ The inquiry slipping off that was laced with playful demeanor and the unbearable sarcasm that couldn’t be skipped.

#p #p!seolhyun #p!preeminent #seolhyunxm #( it was good bby don't u worry!!!1 )

For the lack of a more accurate description, Eggsy is very much your typical teenage boy. That said, he’s the kind whose room is clean only the first hour of moving in, the kind who stays up and out until dawn breaks, and sleeps in till an hour past lunch time, and he’s most definitely the kind who arrives not fashionably late—just late—because his bed was a little reluctant to let the boy go. (But keep in mind that Eggsy is most definitely not a teenage boy any longer as he is all of twenty-one years old—twenty-two in Korea. He is, perhaps, simply a man who’s too afraid to let the boy in him go.)

So in typical fashion, he turns up to this quaint meeting with Seolhyun a little later than he should—or at least, later than her, and apparently everyone else. Footsteps halt in their tracks when his eyes land on what appears to be an instructor, and almost immediately, an amused, rugged chuckle is coughed out.

“An instructor, Seolhyun? Really?” and like the typical obnoxious boy he is, he taunts, “afraid to get hurt, love? Don’t worry, I’ll try not to chip your nails.”

Because like the typical male he is, Eggsy is equal parts proud as he is good at this skill. He dawdles towards where his weapon is kept, finger running along the blunt blade before he grips the handle and tests its weight in his hand. (Not that this requires any actual skill or judgement on his end; no, his powers were God given and thoroughly unearned.)

Faux weapon in hand, he walks over to the girl in the typical white, fencing get-up, mask held between arm and torso. An amused grin curls his lips at her playful challenge, and he supposes this is what he enjoys most in terms of sharing her company: the shared knowledge that work well with weapons, and the underlying competition that often spikes when they attempt to demonstrate their skill. But Eggsy is confident that he’ll win, because while he’s aware that Seolhyun has had training with weapons and can manipulate weapons to a supernatural degree, Eggsy’s proficiency is unmatched. Hers, however, is bound by human errors; and that is something he intends to make use of thoroughly.

“You should know, I don’t go down without a fight,” he retorts, a lingering smile he makes sure is the only thing she remembers seeing on his face while they’re fencing, “actually, I don’t ‘go down’ at all.”

And with that, he dons the mask, and it is behind the mask that he loses the smile to the grit of his teeth, because the rapid beating tattooed on his chest barks that he has to win. So up his sword goes, and after scrutinising her stance and attempting to predict her actions and reactions, he goes for the first jab.

two’s a crowd, ljh&te.

The entire situation, no, possibly even Jaehwan’s entire day, has turned into a rather fair shit show. Jaehwan as a certain methodology to his actions, and when something so upsets that course, its very difficult for him to round himself back together. He’d not started out angry this morning, and he’d actually been feeling even lighter when he’d convinced Eggsy to see things his way.

Having it backfire wasn’t part of the plan.

His expression twists into something unseemly, something unkind, when Eggsy tries to reason with Jaehwan. As if he’s the brains of this outfit. As if the one who made the mess is the man to see reason here. As if Eggsy is the commander of the situation.

If that’s the way its going to be, then Jaehwan is just going to pin all his childish actions to come upon Eggsy too.

“I broke the bag? I’m the one who did this?” he grits out back at Eggsy, before smiling and laughing once in a way that is not nice. Its a sarcastic curling of lips and showing of teeth. Plainly, Jaehwan is fed the fuck up.

A knock on the door interrupts him from spitting anything really insulting at Eggsy. Its a knock on the door that would also signal his study buddy has arrived. A feminine voice calls for Jaehwan when he doesn’t move over to the door to answer it after a moment.

Rising back up to his full height after looming over Eggsy to glare at the man, Jaehwan collects a breath in an attempt to collect himself, while reaching up to smooth out the hairstyle he’d spent his own precious time on earlier in the bathroom.

Going over to the door, Jaehwan puts a hand on it, but doesn’t open it right away. Instead he takes a moment to sneer at Eggsy.

“And to think, I had something fun planned for after you’d cleaned up your shit, because it was clear you needed the reinforcement. Maybe though after a while, you’ll understand why its preferable to be in good standing with me.”

After that he’s walking out the door to meet his partner, quickly shutting it behind him and leaving Eggsy to the disaster and his almost comically inclined villainous foreshadowing.

#p #p!jaehwan #p!crowd #nxmjaehwan

Eggsy may not be the brightest in any crowd, but he’s smart enough to be able to recognise sarcasm. And right now, Jaehwan is brimming with it. It’s not in his words—oh no, they’re downright truthful and cruel—but in his mannerism, such as the faux laugh and sinister smile. In situations where one or both parties are angered, Eggsy would normally put up a fight; but in this case, he knows that he’s in the wrong, and Jaehwan hasn’t been particularly cruel at the start, anyway. So it’s a bit hard to yell back, especially since he’s feeling particularly slothful.

At Jaehwan’s accusatory questions, Eggsy shrugs feebly, wincing at the latter’s stern expression. “You did put the bag around me. I wasn’t going to just…let you,” he mutters weakly, a childish attempt to toss the blame to anyone other than him. (Though to be honest, the boy does believe that he’s not particularly at fault here. True, he’s the one who ultimately broke the bag, but Jaehwan did wrap it around his feet in the first place, which he thinks is not particularly smart, especially when it’s his roommate who’s so hell-bent on keeping the place clean.)

The tension is—hopefully—cleared by the knock on the door and the lilting voice that carries through, and in a bold attempt to lighten the situation, Eggsy turns to Jaehwan and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. Though he can tell it’s not working, especially since he feels so small when the latter stands while he, on the other hand, ceases to move. He watches quietly as the latter moves to the door, brows furrowing in confusion when Jaehwan confesses to having something planned initially, and when the latter leaves, he plonks himself back on the floor, hands moving to his head with the knowledge that he’s fucked up.

But Jaehwan’s mostly mad due to the mess, right? So in a sense, he could clean up this mess, figuratively and literally. Moving quickly, Eggsy hops up then proceeds to sweep the majority of his things under his bed. Because of the size of his mess, he knows that all of it won’t fit below his bed, so he shoves the rest under Jaehwan’s bed and firmly kicks whatever has tumbled out and refuses to be hidden. When he’s somewhat pleased with his ‘cleaning’, Eggsy takes a deep breath, then yanks at the door a little too enthusiastically, coming face-to-face with Jaehwan’s study partner and, well, his roommate’s back.

“Hey ma— whoa, hello there,” he starts, lips curving to form a grin, “anyway, sorry for the impromptu party last night. Thanks for helping me host then clean up the huge mess, bruv,” Eggsy pats Jaehwan’s shoulder then widens the door slightly, revealing the illusion of a cleaner room. He turns to the girl, fingers gripping Jaehwan’s shoulder as his other hand moves to pat his roommate’s chest, “this guy? Best roommate ever. Total legend.” Eggsy clicks his tongue, arm moving to drape over Jaehwan’s shoulder, “you’re in good hands.”

Leaning closer to Jaehwan, he whispers, “so about that thing you planned…”

monday morning madness, sunyoung.

xnxmsunyoung-blog1

She regains her consciousness when she feels herself being pull up. “Hm?” she mumbles faintly, as a strong arm holds her around the waist. With her legs being feeble, Sunyoung leans onto Eggsy for support. Quietly- almost like a whisper, she asks, “Are you taking me home?”

On the edge of Eggsy’s bed, sits a sulking Sunyoung. “Eggy-”, she starts but is interrupt with a bottle thrusts in her line of vision. Slowly she takes it. Sunyoung blinks at the bottle, in her hand, with confusion. “I’m not thirsty…” she says, handing back the bottle to Eggsy.

Sunyoung falls to her side, and shakes off her ballet pumps. Awkwardly, Sunyoung slides up to the top of the bed. Her hands rummage for the cover. When she finds it, Sunyoung pulls it over herself. Sunyoung doesn’t settle then, she still tosses and turns- face pouting. It’s not the boyish smell of the bed covers that’s bothering her…“Eggy,” she calls, “it’s cold.”

She turns to her side- facing Eggsy, and shuffles back a little. Sunyoung holds back the cover and pats enthusiastically at the empty space beside her. Before he can say anything, Sunyoung make a grab for Eggsy’s hand and tugs him towards her with a little might.

#p #p!sunyoung #p!madness #nxmsunyoung #( hahah it's ok!!1 #we can keep this short and cute--- )

Eggsy mainly ignores her questions—or rather, pockets them for later—because being a bartender and having had friends that gravitate towards the party scene, he knows a thing or two about taking care of those who are drunk. And right now, he believes she is, and it’s better for him to focus than to answer questions she probably won’t remember tomorrow.

But when she refuses to drink, he sighs, snatching the bottle away from her and setting it on his table. “That’s what drunk people would say, love,” he accuses, eyes watching as she makes herself comfortable—something not uncharacteristic of a drunk, “and I’m not going to take you home until you’re feeling better. You’re lucky you ended up here.” But the strict exterior crumbles quick at the invitation. He is rather tired, if he were honest, and it’s a little too early to be awake—at least for him. Besides, having a bed partner is a lot more comfortable than sleeping by himself.

So when she pulls him towards her, he shows little resistance; Eggsy slips in beside her and pulls her closer, arm moving between her and the bed to wrap around her thin waist. A contented sigh escapes him as his eyes drift closed, and he would’ve given in to sleep if it weren’t for the whiff of her shampoo he’s caught. Suspicious, Eggsy’s eyes dart open and he looks off into the distance, trying to think. And when he’s come to a conclusion, he angles his head to look at her, an amused smile curving his lips.

“You’re not really drunk, are you?” Because she smells like she’s showered, and there’s not a trace of the scent of alcohol in her hair.

dailyeggsyunwin

Am I the expendable candidate?!

#vis

two’s a crowd, ljh&te.

Eggy’s - for the lack of a better term - beastly bitch-face he keeps shadowing Jaehwan with isn’t something that the young man takes for foreboding until its too late. Sure, messy and uncivilized often went hand in hand, but Jaehwan had already had a good number of interesting conversations with his roommate. They’d done a few of the obligatory room-bros things as well, and even if they were quite different in some ways, Jaehwan had been deluded into thinking Eggsy held quite the charm of his own.

Ah but living with one’s buddy surely dims the sweetness of friendships does it not? Yes, Jaehwan had learned quite quickly that Eggy’s merits did not extend to some of life’s basic necessities. Such as keeping the room from smelling of molded laundry and stale beer, or that the method of solving squabbles through physical tests was best left to their years of boyhood. Jaehwan is a university graduate at this point, a smart young man with his bachelor’s degree and everything ahead of him in life. So when Eggy actually takes the neanderthal approach and deliver’s Jaehwan to the floor, well, its safe to say that its both unexpected and unappreciated.

It takes a lot of self control not to just let something like a tantrum slip out of him right then.

Sure, he’s not been harmed in any way but there is pride in Jaehwan, an ego, that is very easily bruised. And realizing that Eggsy certainly has the upper hand on him in any situation save perhaps the midst of a war wherein there were casualties enough that Jaehwan could make himself a zombie army, that stings.

And apparently devolves him to the same level as the physical brutality bestowed upon him.

Its sort of a joke too, but kind of also not really, when Jaehwan snatches the - now empty - trash bag and begins attempting to fit it around Eggsy’s bare feet. If the guy likes his sneakers so damn much, then he can just be delivered into the trash along with them. Jaehwan works quickly, wondering how much of Eggsy’s body he can get wrangled into the garbage bag before the guy notices. He’s prepared for when that happens too, got his hands already set to pull and cinch the drawstring of the bag tight, the second Eggsy notices what he’s doing. Sure, he’d easily be able to punch a hole through the plastic but the point is that its supposed to be condescending. Jaehwan would very much enjoy a little more bruising of pride, just not on his personal account again.

#p #p!jaehwan #p!crowd #nxmjaehwan #( ........in his defense #it might not look as bad as i described it----#oh who am i kidding #it probs looks worse )

His eyes are tightly shut and he begins to slip into a state of subconsciousness, where his mind twists the information his senses supply and reality only exists to provide fodder to his rampant imagination. And his mind deceives him, and in this deception he perceives the loss of body warmth beside him to be a change in weather, the crunching of plastic to be the pitter-patter of rain. He is not quite in a dream yet, rather he is fast approaching it. But the thing about subconsciousness is that it is equal parts consciousness as it is unconsciousness, and it is simple fact that the sense of touch is more effective in jolting the motionless than the other four.

So Eggsy jolts, eyes snapping open instantly when he feels the texture of plastic slip below his calves and tickle his soles. In his—still—sleep haze, he cannot comprehend what is running through the latter’s mind, but common sense has not escaped him, so he understands what Jaehwan is trying to do: he’s trying to trap him in the large bag that, in his daze, nonsensically reminds him of the body bag he sees in crime movies. Panicking, he violently retaliates, feet stretching black plastic as he kicks and kicks. There is, perhaps, some screaming involved as well, but Eggsy would like it think it was of the manly variety, such as yelling out cuss words in sequences that wouldn’t make sense to anyone in any language and more importantly, no voice cracking.

Obviously, the plastic bag will not survive violent thrusts and hence rips apart, black blending into white stretch marks due to the stress it’s been under. Panting heavily at the physical exertion (and so early in the morning! Couldn’t Jaehwan wait a little?), Eggsy sits up once again, and it’s almost like they’re back to square one. Only now, there are shreds of discoloured plastic to join the filth that is Eggsy’s mess. Leaning on his palms, he scans said mess, disgust clear on his features—because now, it looks disgusting, even to Eggsy. (Is that bit of red on his white shirt part of what was once a delicious pepperoni pizza, or is it just a figment of his imagination?)

He wants to get mad at Jaehwan—he really, really does—especially now, since the part of his brain that’s in charge of reason is finally active, and he’s figured out that Jaehwan’s inane attempt to get him in the bag was actually symbolising his want to dispose of Eggsy. But observing the clutter that now buries what was once clean, ultramarine coloured carpet, he kind of gets it. Kind of.

“I hate to break it to you, bruv, but I think you need to cancel your little soirée,” he admits, eyes guardedly roving to meet Jaehwan’s, “the place looks pretty rough.” Fingers pinch bits of shredded plastic, grimace making their way to his chiselled features, “and you broke the bag. There’s nowhere we can dump all this shit into.” Palm moves up, quickly halting Jaehwan from speaking—if he was going to speak, anyway.

“And before you say it, no, my drawer is off limits.”

xyfxjinhee-deactivated20160815

a helping hand, taeyeon.

[ ☽ ] To say that Taeyeon was ‘unfit’ should have been an understatement. She was so much more than just unfit. It wasn’t like she didn’t work out ( she did ),but like everyone else, she was just too lazy to do it every day. She also found no purpose when her powers were more mind based. If she had a power that to do with physiology or so, she would focus more on her body. Illusion manipulation was her power, which meant that she focused more on her mind than anything. (although her oblivious facade said differently)

On the topic of mental powers, her time with the cute boy (she never got his name, sadly) was ruined. They both had class together and she blessed the teacher for placing the two right next to each other. Who knew the bell could have been a cockblocker.

That lead her to where she was right now. Walking down the halls with a grumpy attitude. No one wanted their time with a cute boy ruined. Why do I even have to go to p.e. I should be helping out at the hospital right now. I am a god damn ad- look it’s a bird. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the pigeon before it flew away. Grumbling once again, she picked up her pace before the bell rang.

Changing into her usual attire for p.e, she made her way outside.

When announced that she had to run, a groan escaped her lips before adjusting her ponytail so it didn’t get in her way while running. Taeyeon wasn’t exactly ‘bad’ at running, but she also wasn’t the best. She was somewhat decent. Although with the amount of alcohol she had been consuming throughout the past week, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was a lot more sluggish than usual. Lack of sleep along was already bad but add in alcohol and you’ve got yourself a storm of problems. Getting into position to run, she glanced over at her friend who seemed to be grumbling a string of curses. A small grin appeared on her face at the sight. She soon forgot about it when they started running.

On her second lap, she was already a sweating mess due to talking while running during the first lap. Talk about fucking up. Her hair was already a mess and she was pretty sure that she looked like shit. She wasn’t panting like a dog, so that was good enough. A voice brought her out of her thoughts. Glancing at the stranger who decided to talk to her, she felt her cheeks flush at his appearance. Normally she wasn’t one to admire someone’s looks (she was too obsessed with quicksilver and her anime guys), but hot damn. ❝Wha- oh! Y-yeah. I’m fine. Would be better if someone could run my laps for me, or carry me, but sadly that won’t happen. ❞ She scrunched her nose up before using her t-shirt’s sleeve to wipe her sweat. ❝Why? Does it look like i’m dying or something?❞ There was a hint of playfulness in her tone,but honestly, she was dying on the inside because fuck physical shit.

#p #p!taeyeon #p!helping #nxmyeonnie #( wow i don't even think i was thiN KING WHEN I WROTE THIS )

He has two laps to go, and if there’s any time he could prove to be the top of the class, it’s now. There’s a niggling voice at the back of his mind telling him to move on, because she’s said she was okay, and now is really not the time to play Good Samaritan. The amount of times he’s decided he’s going to move on and keep running is ample, but there’s this feeling deep down that just can’t seem to let her be. (A feeling he’s probably going to regret in the future, especially if she ends up screaming at him for assuming that the reason why he’s approached her is because she’s a girl and misogynistic him doesn’t think she can survive through simple training.)

But Eggsy is the kind of person who often trusts his instinct and never learns even when it lets him down, so he stays put in the slower-than-he’d-like pace, eyes studying her to make his own deduction on whether she’s fine or not. And he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t seem to realise she’s said anything other than I’m fine, at least not until now, when he’s snapped out of his scrutiny of her.

“I’d be willing to do either of that for you if I could,” he admits, because she really isn’t looking so good. Instead, he shrugs, lips pursed at his inability to help. Of course, if she were to faint, he’d carry her, no doubt—but it’s not like he can force her to faint just so he can do this good deed, and besides, that’s far from the point.

He’s got to admit, though; for someone who looks that exhausted, she sure can tease. He angles his body towards her, hands moving up in surrender as he reminds her between breaths, “not exactly, but if you’re feeling faint, it’s okay to take a break.” He continues his jog beside her, and the growing curiosity reminds him of why he’s decided to be a Good Samaritan in the first place, and today of all days: is she ahead or behind him?

Running at the pace she is now, it’s easy to guess that she’s probably behind, but what if this were some kind of tactic to throw him off? Besides, he’s not particularly sure, and he can’t quell this curiosity that’s eating him up without getting a confirmation. Perhaps his intentions make him seem a little like a douche, but it’s what he’s doing that counts, right? And what he’s doing is trying to help her.

“Just…wondering, what number lap are you on?” he asks as casually as he can, head turning to flash her a smile for good measure.

collision course, nyx.

She moves away from his touch with a sticking out of her tongue and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. Oh so charming aren’t you? Who would’ve thought I would’ve been so blessed.” Nyx combs her hair to the side and follows after him, delivering a softy kick to his butt as they find their way back. “So if Eggsy is a nickname what’s your actual name- I have been wondering this since the moment you mentioned it in weapons class actually.”

Taking her seat once more, she pulls her legs up onto the bench and crosses them reaching for her drink. Removing the sunglasses from her face, she shoves them in a pocket, cocking a brow. “I’ll give you a little bit of knowledge about my own name since we’re buddies now- it’s not actually Nyx. Surprise.” Fingers snatch a piece of pizza as she withdrawals her phone from seemingly nowhere, lifting it to unlock it with her opposite hand.

#p #p!nyx #p!collision #nyxnxm #( jUST TO CLEAR UP #HE IS NOT MAD #after revisiting the movie i think this is what his reaction would be??#but he's not mad dnw!!!1 )

She should be happy he has great balance, he thinks after she kicks him—no matter how delicately—eyes fixated on the makeshift tray/pizza boxes and drinks piled on top. So he angles his head as much as he can without risking their lunch, and sends her a dirty glare. As they reach their seats, he carefully lowers the food onto the table and now free of worry, he smiles as he plumps to his seat.

“Ugh, what is your strange fetish with my name?” he asks jokingly, eyes rolling for good measure, “it’s Taron, if you must know.” Nose scrunches up at the sound, because as much as it is his name, the magnitude of which he deems it unfamiliar is equal to that of the way he sees Eggsy as familiar. So he adds, with a pointed look, “don’t call me that.”

And at the memory of her previous need to silence him, a smile makes its way to his lips as he teases, “so it looks like we don’t need the duct tape after all. And you thought you could resist.” He sweeps the drink off the pizza boxes and scoops a slice out of the box after flipping the cover over. He takes a bite, and it’s then that the comical expression of bulging eyes and chipmunk cheeks find its way to his features, what with the revelation of her having a different name.

“So all that Goddess crap was fucking bull?” he exclaims, shaking his head at the whirlwind she had put him through. Scowling, he demands, “well, what is it then?”

nxmyoona-deactivated20150829-de

roses are red, yoona.

she grins approvingly at his unabashed admission, nodding enthusiastically. “seriously, more ‘tough guys’ need to buy flowers for their moms — it’s so…cute, but also strangely not unmanly.” she raises two fingers in inverted commas as she enunciates ‘tough guys,’ then laughs at her own senseless statement, shrugging in a ‘what can you do?’ manner. sometimes, even yoona herself doesn’t understand her own thoughts, so there’s really no point in trying to elaborate on them for eggsy.

a slightly baffled pout rises to her lips at his statement, and she huffs almost reprovingly. “learning doesn’t have to be all about books!” she insists, immediately assuming that that’s what he usually takes offence at in the classroom. “how about the danger room? you learn things there too, but it’s fun, isn’t it?” her gaze on him is almost hopeful — although she probably wouldn’t mind if he continues to disagree, because how can she say no to debates? she’s aware that she probably sounds like a huge nerd at the moment, but while she may take comfort in the familiar, there is also a streak in her a mile wide that loves the novelty and adventure of the unfamiliar.

her eyes brighten at his familiar hand gesture, and barely a second elapses before she returns it, twining their pinkies and pressing their thumbs together for a brief moment. “you know,” she starts, her tone all seriousness despite the happiness on her face, “i seriously think you might be my soul sibling or something. we have to be connected in some crazy cosmic way, because there is really no other explanation for this.” she gestures to the space between the two of them emphatically, excitedly — it’s not that yoona is into what she terms ‘mumbo jumbo’, but hanging out with eggsy just makes friendship feel so incredibly easy.

“you know we just met each other for the first time less than two hours ago?” she mentions somewhat disbelievingly, with the air of someone who has witnessed a miracle and is still in the midst of processing the fact that it occurred.

she chuckles at his tone, thinking back to her own cozy bed and warm blankets with a sigh as well. “as you can tell, getting the saturday morning shift is quite a breeze,” she points out with an amused shrug. “i mean, who in their right mind is going to get up on a saturday morning to get flowers, of all things? except you, of course, because you’re a dutiful son.” she grins, both surprised and not at the fact that he seems to be planning to send flowers to his mother every week — talk about dedication.

“nice, i’ll see you next saturday then, if we’re really so unlucky as to not see each other in school all week.” yoona grins and reaches out to take the money he’s holding out, her gaze flicking up to his questioningly when his grip doesn’t loosen. of course she says yes to lunch — how can she say no to what might potentially become one of her greatest friendships at xavier’s? “i’ll scout around for a good place and text you,” she agrees excitedly, shutting the cash register before holding her phone before him — number, please is what her smile says.

“and i’ll let you know once the flowers are shipped too, so you don’t have to worry,” she can’t help adding, a teasing lilt to her otherwise impeccable customer service.