#as if their whole deal isn’t being physically strong!!!

[zefforuins]

-/&;3;

[shitpostingkats]

An Asexual's love letter to Good Omens 2

There's an infamous quote by Neil Gaiman going around, regarding the general vibe of season 2, and many people (I believe humorously) yelling that it could not be further from the truth. Particularly in the last episode, where that happens.

I disagree.

The final episode of season 2 was deeply, deeply comforting to me. 

I am asexual. Have been my whole life. Even before I had the words to describe what that was, child-me had this feeling in their gut of being an outlier, that everyone was exaggerating, or in on some joke, that I wasn’t privy to. Because I was bombarded on all sides by shows and movies and books, telling the same story of love, again, and again, and AGAIN. It’s drilled into our brains with the same fervor as the days of the week, or the quadratic formula. Meet-cute -> misunderstanding ->declaration of feelings ->kiss. More or less steps can be added to account for runtime or complexity of narrative, but that’s the basic structure that a relationship follows. It MUST be, because that’s the formula every character who's ever been in a story goes through, often times when it even feels like an add-on, like it’s only there because this is a story, there HAS to be a romance. And it has to follow the steps.

For a long time, I felt love wasn’t for me, because if there’s only one way to be in love, I sure as hell wasn’t feeling it. 

Instead, the relationship I ended up in looked a lot like what Beezlebub and Gabriel go through. Meeting someone routinely until it starts to feel comfortable. Getting to know them and slowly growing more attached. Eating chips and listening to music.

We like to joke whenever someone asks us how long we’ve been together, because the answer is we just sort of slowly fell into it, and we honestly don’t know when the line got blurred between ‘friends’ and ‘partners’. And, at least for me, a good deal of that confusion, that hesitancy to label, came from the fact that what I was feeling, what we were, couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be romantic. 

We were just quiet and gentle.

And that wasn’t love.

Because it was slow, because it wasn’t physical, because there was no structure aside from consistency and companionship. Because it didn’t follow the Rules.

Then I found myself in stories, and it felt like a revelation.

Beelzebub and Gabriel aren’t the first time I’ve seen a love like I feel represented in a narrative, but it never stops feeling special. And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop celebrating it.

Throughout the sequence in the pub, I kept expecting them to “confirm” Gabriel and Beelzebub. A dramatic line, a kiss, a whatever. That’s what I’ve been taught to expect, after all, that’s the only way a relationship is “real”. Of course, this doesn't mean Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a dramatic kiss is wrong, or that I can’t see why it resonated with so many people, but for me. Those moments in the pub are worth so much more.The last scene might have been literally showstopping, but those handful of moments between the duke of hell and an archangel were the beating heart of the season for me. A simple love story in four scenes. No kisses. No ‘I love you’s. Not even any definition of what. The love Gabriel and Beelzebub have is strong enough for them to both want to shatter their worlds and flee their lives and it's just. 

It's just that. 

Two people in a pub, playing the other's favorite song, giving a little gift, buying a packet of crisps. 

That sequence means far more to me than any kiss ever could.

Love isn’t only real when it's hot and sudden and ephemeral, it can also be

Quiet.

And gentle.

And still romantic.

Still real.

[sugudoe]

❛ 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ❜ ﾉ⠀ 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It had been a decade since the jujutsu world last heard your voice or seen your face. 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 had to deal with his emotions and conflicts by himself, and when he was nearly accepting that maybe you were dead, the unthinkable happens ── 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is the same universe as ‘𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾’ 𝗆𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗎 one shot, but obviously can be read separated (but don’t, read all of them <3), because i thought it would be cool. this one actually made me cry a lot, but as always, good ending. totally based on this song. also, i noticed i like to make the reader strong and whatever, expect more badass readers from me. mwah.

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: angst with good ending, mature content, blood, death, kidnapping, foul language, anxiety attack, self harm (picking skin), malnourishment, afab!reader (their uterus is actually important to the plot), happy ending.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k

Gojo Satoru has had bruises and scars surrounding all of his fingers for almost a decade now. It’s a habit he picked to externalize his anxiety, much like Shoko with her cigarettes — ever since they met each-other, the girl would inhale one after the other.

When Ieiri became a doctor, her mission was to help healing the physical scars cause by either Gojo’s own hands or mouth, plucking the skin and tasting his blood, as if that could calm him. Maybe it could, he did felt relief through the pain. Shoko knew it was unhealthy and just the first steps before it all escalated to something more dangerous and difficult, so she tried to help.

“Let’s change this…” The brunette grabbed Satoru’s hands from his mouth, when he started to complain, she exchange it for a strawberry covered in chocolate. “For this.”

Soon, Shoko is reminded that Satoru can multitask. Blood and sweets merge in his mouth, the taste is addictive to him, much like something he unknowingly misses.

They both try cigarettes.

“Isn’t cigarettes as bad as this self-harm, you think I do?!” Gojo asks after burning his lungs and coughing the smoke all the way up his throat. There is a bitter taste that impregnates in his tongue, he can help but stick one of his fingers into his mouth and scratch the pink muscle. While he is at it, Gojo bites, tempted, his skin.

Shoko thinks that if Satoru is allowing all of this, that means he cares as much as she does, and he wants to be unhooked of this habit he has. One day, she suggests maybe he should focus on something else, like keeping his bed warm with a new person everyday. You’re never picking up your skin when you’re focused on somebody’s else, Shoko tells him.

Gojo turns it down the second she finishes her reasoning.

“Your pretty head is going to work harder for a new idea, Sho. Not in the mood for anyone else.” Shoko doesn’t bother slapping Satoru’s hands away from his mouth, the woman is to busy being stunned by his words.

“I thought you had move on, Gojo.” She didn’t meant to say it out loud, hence why it’s barely a whisper, but the contents of it could never scape Gojo. If the topic was you, he was always hearing, trained his ears in the hope to catch news a long time ago. “It’s been what? four years?”

“No, it’s been six, actually.” Gojo is not looking at Shoko, not at anywhere in the room but his hands, bruised and bloodied by himself. Shoko wonders if he is going to bite the whole thing off. “Six years since she has gone missing. Not a single news, she had no family, besides us, so no one has know shit.” He closed his hands in fists.

“Don’t you think she could have just gone away, Satoru?” Ieiri fidgets with her wedding ring unconsciously, the piercing blue eyes snap to the silver metal for a moment before returning to his lap, his long hand touching his necklace under the shirt. Shoko knew of your hate towards the jujutsu world and the men in power, but she was also your friend, you wouldn’t have left anyone behind, especially Gojo. “No, she didn’t.”

“Yeah, she didn’t.” Satoru grabs his glasses on the coffee table and adjust them over his eyes. To ease the pain of the six-eyes or to hide his tears, the woman wonders. “But I wish that’s what happened, y’know?” Gojo presses his thumb against the bottom of his teeth, tempted. “I would love her more if I knew she was far away, somewhere in the mountains, sleeping with dozens of blankets and a cat named Amour.”

Shoko doesn’t find her voice in that moment, is stuck besides her breaking heart and burned lungs. Gojo doesn’t seem to mind, he is lost in this calm and happier version of you he creates to ease his mind.

“If she isn’t, can you imagine? Can you imagine her dead?” Satoru slaps his hand over his mouth, and Shoko fears that’s the moment he will bite so hard the blood he is addicted to will paint himself, paint her, become physical enough to never be ignored like this situation they are right know. But none of that happens, Satoru simply try to hide his hiccups and cries.

It takes Ieiri a second to register what is happening, and when she does she jumps over the coffee table and hugs Gojo’s shaking form. In the six years since your disappearance, Satoru has never said out loud that you could be dead. The man thought such a thing was impossible, said that your curse energy was so strong anyone would feel it, Japan would lose its balance. He wondered if he had been wrong, had never noticed, because even if Satoru had spend all the time searching for you, he could have missed this. Could have missed you, and your last breath.

“Oh, please, my God.” Gojo begged the usual prayer: trade him for you, let him see you just one more time — he only needed a goodbye, a hug, a kiss. To look in your eyes and repent, to touch your skin and evaporate. Gojo Satoru would avoid death until the moment he sees you again, dead or alive.

“Gojo.” Shoko grabbed his face, removing his glasses and making him stare at her through his white eyelashes. He looked so young, the perfect mirage of how he was when Satoru learned of your missing. “She is not gone.” Ieiri hated herself for this, for trying to give him hope, something desperate to dig his claws in, unknown to the fact it was hope digging him, and when the truth would come out it could remove chunks of Satoru.

“Then where is Y/n?” Gojo whispered. “Where is she that I can’t find? Where is my love?”

Gojo Satoru became a shell of a man after that day. For the next four years he devoted his attention to anything related to you.

Becoming a good and happy teacher because he knew how much you wanted to be one, for the young sorceress who were obliged to give their lives for old men who couldn’t even thank them. Gojo’s spare time used to be for you, as well, searching Tokyo and hiring detectives all over the world, but now he promised Shoko to take some time at his penthouse. It sucks.

He holds himself against the large windows and knows you would love to see the city lights, when they would shine through your eyes and light half of your face, he would kiss you desperately. For a decade away from your lips, he still could remember how good it felt to be complete with you. The clouds reached the building some times, and he wondered if you were dead, this was your way of reaching. But whenever Gojo refused to believe in this, he would let the curtains take him away from the clouds.

Today is one of those days. And the sky is angry at him, demanding his attention with lightning and thunder — unfortunately, same as your cursed technique. Anytime a lightning falls at the city bellow him, Gojo hugs himself a bit tighter, to avoid himself from jumping to the windows, shamelessly looking for you.

His cell phone rings two times before he picks it up.

“Hey, are you alright? It’s a pretty heavy storm tonight.” Suguru asks right away, in the background there is two teen girls screaming with terror and then laughing like maniacs afterwards. “One lightning fell at the garden, the girls are going crazy. If you want to come, please do.” There is despair in his voice, and Gojo laughs at that.

“Sure, nothing better to do. Should I teleport in the middle of your living room to scare them?”

“Yes! That would be very much appreciated… Oh.” There is mumbling for a long time before Suguru returns. “Nanako is asking for you to bring her some of your snacks, the sour one, Mimiko says she want nothing but she likes the peanut butter M&M’s.” More talking in the background. “You are no bother, love, he is filthy rich.”

“Your daughters are lucky I love them.” Gojo mumbles getting up, before he moves there is a sound on his phone showing him a second number is calling. “I think Shoko is calling me, I’ll be right back at you. Tell your wife I’m bringing you and her something as well.”

“It better be good, last time you got her pineapple biscuits, what is wrong with you?”

“Those biscuits are good.”

“SHE’S ALLERGIC, SATORU.”

“OKAY, NO PINNEAPLES! WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING? Why am I screaming?” Satoru sighed before turning around from his cabinet with the pineapple biscuit.

He turned off the call with Geto who was busy with the girls to even notice. The second call was already off. Gojo shrugged, Shoko would definitely call again. Satoru was busy grabbing a random backpack is his closet when he heard his phone from the kitchen a couple of minutes later, he walked with the bag and picked the phone without seeing the id.

“Hi, you want to go to Geto’s house and prank the girls by teleportation?” Gojo starts to pack the bag, but stops when he hears no answer from Shoko, just breathing and thunder. “Wha…” Gojo takes the phone from his ears and checking the id find a random number. “Okay weirdo, this breathing thing is not really my cup of tea, know what I mean? I’m turning off now.”

“Don’t.” It’s a simple whisper, one word. It’s through the phone and the sound of wind, thunder clashes nearly at the exact same time. But Gojo hears your voice, and he doesn’t wonder if he heard right, but only if he is hallucinating, he would never forget your voice. “Please, don’t turn off.”

“Baby, please, please be you.” He has nothing else to say, no right question at this moment, the only thing in his head is you, has always been you.

“It’s me, Sato, I’m here.” He senses the smile in your voice, he can picture you with your eyes close and cuddling your face to the phone like he is doing right now. “Satoru, this is really, really important, okay? I need you to come get me now.”

Those ten years, Satoru had been waiting for this. Sensing the urgency of your words, Gojo removes his eye band.

“Tell me where you are, baby.”

Before you could answer, something snapped behind you.

“Here she is, dumb bitch couldn’t run that fast, after all. Still in our lands.” A man said causing not only yours but Satoru’s blood as well to run cold. You turned to him, admiring the blood dripping from the bite on his shoulder, your courtesy. “Let me make one thing clear, sweetheart, you’re never leaving here.” A slap followed his words. “Take her back to Naoya, he is waiting for the punishment.”

“FUCK.” A second man voice was present. “THE BITCH STOLE A PHONE.” All heads turned to him, in his hands was the object you dropped soon as you heard the men, the other line was silent but the call was still on.

“WHO WHERE YOU FUCKING CALLING?” The first man grabbed your hair, he approach his face to yours, forcing you to feel the putrid smell from his breath.

“I was ordering a pizza, asked for your favorite, no need to thank.” You stares at his nose for a moment, before launching at and biting it. Blood flows to your throat again in the day, he pushes you off and you stumble back, quickly getting up and spitting on the agonizing man. The other with the cellphone is scared, mostly due to the storms behind you, following the movements of your hands. “C’mon, I’m in the mood to a good fight.”

The man drops the phone. One step, is all he gives for you, all you allow before lighting meets him and he falls dead on the floor, a second hits the one on the floor. It takes you half a second to reach to phone, the call is still on but silent on the other side.

“Satoru?” You call worried for your lover.

“I’m here, baby.” You sigh in relief when he answers. He was coming your way, still.

“Did you heard me beating them?” You sit on the floor, under the rain who kisses your bruised skin softly, much like Gojo used to do. “I‘ve been waiting some time for this… How long was I out?”

“A long time.” Gojo answers are so short you wonder if you did the right thing by calling him. But if anything, he was the only number you had memorized, it was your only chance. When you first called him, he said something about ‘girls’ had he moved on? Are you allowed to be upset by this idea?

“Satoru, where are you?” It’s another whisper of yours he catch quick.

“I already said, baby. I’m here.”

You scrunch your eyebrows before getting up, turning your head for every direction, until you realized you had been so focused on the rain and Satoru’s voice, you didn’t catch the enormous red light over the trees and screams coming from the Zen’in clan’s houses direction.

“Stay where you are while I finish this, okay, baby?” He grunt, before you hear a punch being throw. “I‘ll come get you quick.”

You wait by the trees, sitting towards the entrance of the woods that you took off sprinting earlier. You were tired, had been years since you used your cursed technique, your muscles had gone missing after many malnourished sessions given by your kidnappers, as a lesson for disobedience, but you never stopped, never bowed down. For however long had the Zen’in Clan kept you, they never achieved their most sacred wish, the whole reason for capturing you. You were proud of that, even with your many scars and poorly healed broken bones, you were safe from the future they wanted, and now you were truly safe.

It’s silent before you see the first strands of white hair coming behind the trees. He moves gracefully with blood all over him, and you can tell none of it it’s his. Gojo keeps staring at the floor, but you know he knows you are there, standing up fast.

“Satoru?” You move towards him, but he catches your halfway, hugging your body like a cage you would have much preferred than the other you have lived. Your head is in his chest, and his is in your neck — both of you checking the other’s heartbeat, making sure it’s all real.

“If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.” Satoru says against your skin. He lifts his gaze to be met with your eyes, so pretty he smiles. “But If I do, I’ll burn the Zen’ins again. I’ll take it as a sign, you are alive, you are waiting for me.” Gojo closes his eyes and bring his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“I am real, my love.” It’s you who initiates the kiss, he answers right away, hands moving to all the right places, keeping you still under him, where you have always been meant to be. Gojo doesn’t let you separate your lips, but does so when you start to giggle. “I want to leave, and after a perfect bath, we can have all the kisses in the world.”

“Do you want to see the others?”

Is a instant after your nod, and you are in the garden of a temple, hands interlock and gazes lifted, Satoru walks with you towards the entrance, he puts you behind him before getting inside a room.

“What took you so long?” You recognize Geto’s voice right away, you squeeze Gojo’s hand. “Thanks for my wife calling, Shoko and Utahime came.” Satoru is quiet in front of you. “What? Yeah, fine, I am disappointed you didn’t pranked my daughters, wife already put them to sleep anyways.” Oh, so Satoru wasn’t seeing anyone? Wait, daughters? How long you were out?

“What is it, Gojo?” Is Shoko who asks this time, but again Satoru keeps quiet. “Is that blood on you?” Your head shuffling and movement, but out of nowhere, Gojo moves to behind you, hands on your shoulders in a instant, startling everyone.

“You should check her first.” Is all he says while your old friends faces turns from shock to relief, and then tears. There is so many of those you feel your robes drenching more than before on the rain. But everything is warm, be the presence of your lover behind you or the arms of your found family, all burns away the fears of your past.

You take a shower with Satoru before returning to the living room with matching sweaters, Geto has you eating a proper meal before giving you the most extra decorated hot chocolate you had ever had. Is in his couch, under Satoru’s arm, that you start to talk.

“There was this woman many years ago, a sorcerer who could see the future, she left many letters hidden in many sealed boxes she buried all over Japan. One of those spoke about you, Satoru. She predicted your birth.” You gaze him quickly, before sipping the chocolate. “The Zen’in Clan wanted to find something about themselves, adamant she must have written when would the next sorcerer with the Ten Shadows Technique appear.”

All eyes are on you, avoidant of your trembling hands, except for Gojo, he grabs the cup from your hand and kisses your head.

“I found the boxes, it was my missions to find them for the High Ups. And I did good, but the Zen’in interfere, demanding to know just what concerned to them, and I guess someone took pity and let them read.” You gulped. “My name was on the last letter, saying that my blood was strong enough that I would bear an powerful heir, even stronger than their father. The letter specifically said who the father would be, a Gojo. with both Limitless and the Six Eyes.” You are already staring at Satoru, his eyes are all o ver your face, inspecting for the truth, there is a small smile on his face.

“I’m gonna be a cool dad.” It’s all he says before looking at your friends.

“Shut up.” You timidly said. “The thing is, the Zen’in only cared about my blood and genetics part, they thought if I give them a child, it could be the next Ten Shadows’s user. I can’t tell with certain, but I think they got the blessing from the High Ups, it was supposed to be a quick mission, even I thought it was weird, I’m always needed with weird quests. I found nothing but Zen’in Naoya, who proudly called himself my master and me his concubine.”

Your attention went to Gojo, he was biting the skin of his fingers, you grabbed his hands quickly and noticed the old scars and recent wounds, kissing all of them.

“They seized me with the help of a sorcerer from the Kamo Clan, she could power down my curse, in exchange for an heir to the Kamo’s as well, but electricity has always run on me. They learned to handle the shocks, but only for a couple of minutes. Naoya never touched me like that.” You said to calm your friends, but you as well. Had that woman been a bit more stronger, your life would have been different.

“That’s how I scape, before dinner they forgot that sorceress are humans as well, and I was left alone with her. I killed her with normal punches who turned into electrical punches. Then, I found Naoya and strike a lightning on his crouch, before I could do more damage, the others saw and i ran, grabbed his phone and called you, I thought I was going to die and needed to hear your voice.” There is tears streaming down not only your face, but everyone else’s. Your pain is being dissected in front of everyone, you had been so close all this time. “You didn’t pick up at first, but I kept trying, and you did. And it wasn’t enough, I needed to see you. So you came.”

“You called me, I will always come to you.” Satoru has you in his arms again, hugging you scared that this might all be a dream yet, he couldn’t live without you ever again, and with the way you would hold him back, he knew you felt the same.

Gojo had never been so sure of something when he made you get up from the couch with him, even confused you did and stared at your friends, their wet eyes were as confused as yours. You turn back to Satoru, and he is on one knee. Gojo hands left yours to move to his neck, removing his silver chain that was hidden under his shirt, now you see the dangling diamond ring in it. Satoru takes the ring and stares at you, hopelessly in love and devoted.

“You know I have always loved you, everyone in this room can testify to that. I knew you were alive, I knew we would see each-other again, and I promised myself that when we did met, I had to marry you.” You try hard to see Gojo through your wet vision, he smiles triumphantly even before he gives you the question. “I bought this ring after you disappeared, and it was what kept me safe, the promise that one day it would be in your finger, and your name complimented with mine. The future is what has held me, the thought of you. So please, my love, let’s start our future. Marry me?”

It’s the quickest ‘Yes’ you had ever said, you repeat it like a mantra, Gojo laughs while sliding the ring on your finger and kissing all over your hand, then he gets up and kisses you again and again and again, until Shoko, Utahime and Geto’s wife are pushing him away and hugging you, letting your fiancé to his friend.

Later that night, when the talk gets easier and calmer, with every couple holding themselves like a silent prayer of what could happen or re-happen, they take solace in their lovers. Shoko stares at Gojo and his happy smile, he looks, once more, so young. One of his hands goes straight to his lips, and Ieiri is tempted to slap it away from his teeth, but Gojo stops himself before anyone could, he simply moves one hand to your face in a love embrace and the other to touch your finger and keep spinning your ring.

The medic had been right all along, he is too busy devouring your love and attention and giving all those ten years of love he himself had kept, to focus on picking his skin. His scars would forever heal from now on, with you by his side, nothing would ever hurt again.

[princessbrunette]

thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.

at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.” and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”

he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.

you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.

“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.

“you’re finished working?”

“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.

“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”

he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.

he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.

“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.

it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.

“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.

“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.

you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.

“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.

“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.

“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”

he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

[punkpandapatrixk]

🌻Thinking About You ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

My Dearest Dream Person,

I think, the signs are all around me. When I weave dreams of my ideals, surely I must be thinking of you. I’ll recognise you when our eyes meet for the first time. I’m sure I can do that. After all, I have dreamt of you for the longest time.

I know I will love the way I feel, the way I am, when I’m in your presence. I’m certain that I will know then that this is true love…

with all of my heart,

Your Destined One♥︎

PLAYLIST: so this is love playlist by Sea Pearl

MOVIE: Sleeping Beauty (1955)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

For my Pink Clouds, there is a little incident with Pile 3, which is like, super random? But I was told it was important LMAO So I’ve included a mini behind-the-story for it as a sweet extra message🥰If you’re already subscribed, don't miss the full post on Patreon~🌷

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – I will hold and heal you, and always be there to protect you♥︎

VIBE: So This Is Love from Cinderella

my daydreams leading to you – Knight of Pentacles Rx

At the time you’re finding this PAC, your Destined Person is in a state of wanting to hurry and meet you XD They have this strong desire to be with you and hold you close. I think their Higher Self is making it clear to them that you exist somewhere in this Universe and that makes them daydream a looootttt about being in a relationship. Problem is, they don’t really know what you look like or how to find you… so… they could be trying to find a glimpse of you in so many different types of people! LMAO

For the most part, I don’t think this means your Destined Person is all and about dating all kinds of people just to find you—that would be kinda trash, right? But to a large extent, they daydream to no end. They could be seeing people, yes, finding them attractive or interesting, and being curious about them, only to realise there’s quite nothing there… These people don’t feel… right… or complete. Like there’s always something… wrong… or missing.

This could drive them crazy at some point. Wondering why their wants and ideals are so damn complicated! So unrealistic! But the truth is, they could never be satisfied with any of those different types of people because each of them hold only ever a piece of the puzzle that would make a whole picture of YOU~🧩It is your Destined Person’s task to figure this out themselves and finally get a clearer picture of what kind of Love they do truly deserve in this world (it is YOU~!)💕

let’s go on a date! – 5 of Swords

If you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, I feel like you’ve had a few storms in the past involving human connections in general. In simple terms, a lot of people have been so MEAN to you! It could be your own “family”, fake friends, toxic partners, whatever, really. A lot of people have caused a great deal of psychological pain onto you. And I have a strong feeling your Destined Person knows about this. I’m sure they know about this from the aethers, one way or another. After all, it’s not like their Higher Self isn’t in communication with your Higher Self? Huehue

That said, even before you meet in the physical, your Destined Person already has this vibe about them… of wanting to protect you from harm. I feel like they have this unsettling feeling deep inside of them, a feeling they can’t quite put a finger on, that they want to protect somebody. They want to be a hero to you. When you’re finally together, I still see this image of them wanting to punch anybody who would pose a danger to you XD

I’m seeing this comical image of them punching the air to demonstrate how they’re going to keep you from any, ANY, kind of harm. They’re funny like that. Humour is their love language hahah They’re not afraid of making a fool of themselves if that makes you laugh. Your Destined Person is going to be so devoted to protecting and comforting you♥︎

i want you around – Queen of Pentacles

Aaand…there’s a high chance that your Destined Person is a rich boi/gal. Not only do they have this nurturing quality to them, but they also have the means to provide for you. Even if they’re not that rich (yet) when you meet, the key thing is that they have this desire to work hard to provide for you. Make your dreams come true more easily. Make your life together easy. They don’t want you ever again to experience pain or hardship.

Truly, this is a daddy/mommy vibe~ It doesn’t matter if your Destined Person is younger or smaller than you, they will take it upon themselves to be the daddy/mommy in the relationship😂If you’re the one who’s older or bigger than them, you will find this stupidly endearing HAHAHAH

Your Destined Person is sensual, reliable, emotionally dependable, very honest and hardworking, on top of being funny. They have all of these lovely qualities that they can’t wait to pour unto you. They’re currently in this weird space where they really, really want to be someone’s boyfriend/girlfriend… GOSH, I HOPE YOU MEET SOON, DAMMIT!✨🍀🩰

DAYDREAMS🔻💚

words to describe you – Priestess of Patience

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Enchantment

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – You’ve shone a light of hope on my dark and dreary world

VIBE: Once Upon a Dream from Sleeping Beauty

my daydreams leading to you – 9 of Swords Rx

Right off the bat, your Destined Person has gone through some hellish experiences in this world. They’ve not had an easy life, and that’s caused them to view reality as immensely bleak. Before the idea of you came into their conscious mind, they’d probably had it so rough they couldn’t let themselves dream big or dream beauteous things. You know how people settle for less because they’re afraid of getting disappointed, again and again, by reality… by people?

On a different note, this could also mean that your Destined Person has endured much trauma in this life. People who have endured trauma could tend to have nightmares, even night terrors, right? We’re talking bad memories, PTSD, even CPTSD, so… this isn’t exactly an easy energy to navigate. Due to their traumas, they could also have developed harmful habits or strange coping mechanisms needed for survival. Within their psyche, there simply was so much chaos and pain.

One day, God came to your Destined Person and awakened a dream of YOU in them~ This miraculously gave them so much comfort and brought a sense of gladness for the first time in their dark and dreary world. When your Destined Person learnt of the aetheric connection you share, that you exist somewhere in this world and that you are waiting to meet and fall in love with them, they felt genuine softness for the first time in a long, long while…

That there is still something down the lane, there’s someone dearly beloved, that’s still worth living for~♥︎

let’s go on a date! – IV The Emperor Rx

From that moment onwards, your Destined Person went on to transform themselves. To make them stronger and more dazzling so they could become a perfect match for you. If this Pile is your main pile, I’m sure you’re a super dope person! I mean dope as in super awesome. I just know it that you’re a wonderful individual who has a big heart, and that a lot of people find you capable and inspirational. One way or another, this of you was conveyed to your Destined Person by the Universe~!

You are strong and kind and your Destined Person already knows this of you. In many ways, I feel almost like your Destined Person feels like they might not have that much to offer you… You’re so, so much, much more than they ever have been. Perhaps you’re richer, more successful, more famous, and all that, so…

Your Destined Person is currently just working on themselves. Making something out of themselves. They don’t really know yet what they could ever give you aside from their genuine heart. But they’re not going to be satisfied with just that. They’re not a loser, you know. They’re only beginning to let themselves be what they’re supposed to be—there’s still a lot they’re discovering about their strengths and natural talents! When they’ve figured this out of themselves, they’ll know just exactly what precious something they could offer you as a token of their Love~

i want you around – 8 of Cups Rx

Of all the Piles, I feel like your Destined Person is quite literally currently in a phase of self-discovery. They’re deep in the trenches of their own trauma healing and self-transformation that they can’t afford to focus too much on your energy. So this could mean you don’t always get clear aetheric messages from them. Plus, it feels like your Destined Person can’t or don’t even want to convey too many messages about what they think or feel about you because they know words would simply fail them.

The reason why? They’re afraid their words would become empty promises. They don’t even know themselves yet at this point. They’re not their best version of themselves yet. What tangible ideas or things could they possibly offer you? So, that’s kinda the vibe they’re operating with at this point in their Life. And if you should know anything, it is that your Destined Person has not had the luxury of being helped, supported, or coddled much by those they relied on. So there’s this vibe of them being afraid that they themselves can’t be relied upon. And that’s so sad because I think your Destined Person has such a genuine heart…

But worry not! At the end of the day, your Destined Person is literally just being taught by the Universe how to love themselves, prioritise their own needs and wants, and express themselves more honestly. They’ll get there😊They’ve just had a very lonesome and miserable life for the most part. One thing they do want you to know though, is that they’re thankful you exist at all in this Universe. You’ve given them so much hope and calmed down the storms in their world♥︎

DAYDREAMS🔻💛

words to describe you – Priestess of Prosperity

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Inspiration

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – I offer you now… Heaven on Earth! My Love!

VIBE: When You Wish Upon a Star from Pinocchio

my daydreams leading to you – 3 of Pentacles Rx

Even just looking at the pic you’ve chosen, it feels like you and your Destined Person really do wish to offer something precious to one another~ It’s almost like a prayer, I feel. That you hold such precious thoughts of one another and wish for the most wonderful things to happen to each other. But even more than just hoping, wishing and praying, the two of you are intent on making the world a better place so the other could rest more easily.

This isn’t just your Destined Person’s thoughts; I feel that even you have always held it in your heart that you wish to become a better person for the one most worthy of your Love. That person destined for you also carries it in their heart to work on themselves and transmute a ton of generational trauma as well as curses. If this is your main pile, I hope you know that you’re a powerful Soul who’s been tasked with the transmutation of Mankind’s negative inclinations.

You and your Destined Person are Divines Feminine and Masculine. You each embody the essence of the Divine in your own unique expression of Feminine and Masculine. Since you were a child, you were already a sage; you knew it within the heart of your hearts that changing the world begins with changing yourself. That’s why you will notice later on that both you and your Destined Person will appear to be such distant creatures from the rest of your families each—because you will have transcended above the ordinariness of the lineage you were born into LOL

let’s go on a date! – X The Wheel of Fortune

All of the above said, of all the Piles, yours is the most certain to meet very soon. I feel like, in the aethers, you are already one and united, and so, you’re just waiting for the temperatures of Planet Earth to get right so she could welcome your Divine Union. You and your Destined Person are such high-vibrational creatures that when you come into contact forests would shake and mountains would shudder XD I’m thinking of the chaos caused by Ponyo when she was trying to get to Sosuke LMAO PERFECT illustration!

You don’t want to end the world. So, this world has had to ready itself in order to witness your Divine Union with your Divine Counterpart. I’m sure when you’re together you’re going to become famous; whatever the scale of your community may be. You’re going to be seen by those around you as the charity-couple or inventor-couple or some shit. You and your Destined Person are going to be working together. And there will be something magical about what you do together—even if that thing is just a small business of a cosy café! For example.

Or it could be something what would be similar to the stories of the invention of bandaids and the surgical gloves. It’s just something lovely like that. There is healing in whatever you do which is needed by Mankind right at this passage of time. I just know it that your matrimony is going to be so full of meaning, of love and joy, or service to Mankind, and most importantly, so full of magical moments that make everything you’ve been through so worthwhile.

i want you around – King of Cups

The King of Cups—the King of love songs and poetry. He is kind, sensitive, patient and caring, compassionate and understanding. And immediately, a quote comes to mind with this aenergy:

‘The right person will make you fall in love with yourself, too.’

Your Destined Person resembles you so much. They possess so many qualities that you like that remind you that you have them, too. Looking at your Destined Person, you are reminded of how good and kind and capable you yourself are. The deeper your feelings get for them, the more in love you feel towards yourself, too. Life, finally makes sense.

You’ll find, ever so unexpectedly, that you don’t need so many distractions anymore. You need only this one person and everything else is a blur. You couldn’t care less anymore about people or things that feel so little in meaning. Not interested anymore. Ain’t got time for any of that now. You want only the one and true thing: a union—a Life—with your Destined Person.

Ever so naturally you will understand that the way to manifest this Love is through your own personal transformation. And so in that sense, your life’s focus becomes only one: YOURSELF. And you realise this—you become motivated to purify your world—through receiving the awakening call of your Destined Person’s identity.

DAYDREAMS🔻💗

words to describe you – Priestess of Magick

what’s in my heart for you – Priestess of Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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[astrobydalia]

Saturn🪐

by astrobydalia

There’s a lot of emphasis on the ‘delay’ aspect of Saturn. It is true that the house where you have this planet are themes that might be delayed in your life until your Saturn return (your 30s) or until you’re mature enough (age and maturity don’t always go hand in hand). Up until then, you could struggle to find stability in these house’ themes to the point where you might think you’re not cut out to have them like everyone else since nothing here seems to come easily or naturally.

Example:

Saturn in 4th - could face early abandonment from family (emotional and/or physical). May spend a big chunk of their lives feeling like they have no support or quite literally no family. Constantly feeling rejected by the people and places they try to call home and lack a sense of belonging. Eventually they learn what it really means to become a support system for themselves and the people they love, this might have come at the expense of their own comfort, but learned to build this stability within themselves once they mature

However, that is the most forgiving manifestation of Saturn in my opinion because it can actually do the exact opposite. Saturn placement can also show themes that are imposed on you very early on and you have to stick with for a veeeeery long time until you’re ready to mature out of it or until you know better. In other words, a karmic lesson. This is because Saturn also represents burdens

Same example:

Saturn 4th - could actually have a strong bond with their family and have a stable place to call home, but they could be inseparable from family/roots in a way that is detrimental for the native. Could feel the pressure to stick up for family and what they want at the expense of their own needs which results in another form of emotional abandonment. Family is limiting, could feel like you can’t escape from them or their influence. Ultimately the lesson is the same cause it’s the same placement, but instead of learning it through trial and error like the last case, they learn it from being hands on in a less than ideal situation

There’s also a combination of both: having to deal with a certain burden because you it’s like you lack the possibility of anything better in the long run. Following the example: could be the case that your whole family is gone and you only have one relative to relay on but they’re abusive

Saturn isn’t here to make sure your life is crap, it can actually bring blessing if you’re patient and resilient. After all it rules karma, so it eventually delivers what’s fair. That’s why Saturn’s exalted in Libra and also because the concepts of boundaries, respecting the common rules and detaching for the sake of compromise are things both Saturn and Libra understand perfectly. “time ends up placing everything where it should be”

It’s true that Saturn is tricky because it’s all about prioritizing growth over comfort. It’s about the sacrifices that make you tougher, stronger, bigger. So at its worst it actually be very bad. The shadow of Saturn is all about doing whatever it takes for growth and benefit. In the case of Capricorn that relates to climbing the social and economic ladder. For Aquarius, that’s detaching from your humanity in order to be more ‘evolved’. It has a lot to do with detaching from your heart and soul in benefit of the 3D world, that’s why Saturn is debilitated Aries, Cancer and Leo, because these signs are all about checking in with yourself and staying true to yourself and your heart so don’t like accepting Saturn’s limitations in terms of these things. I’d argue that it can even be worse than the other ‘malefic’ planet because it’s associated to all of the things that can be devastating for any human in a permanent basis: loneliness, depression, coldness, abuse of power (saturn=limits, control, authority)

On the flip side, Saturn at its best represents everything a healthy person needs: stability, structure, boundaries, the barriers that keep you protected and responsibility. The growth over comfort motto is actually positive when channeled healthily. As we all know, in order to mature and be a better person, we have to take responsibility and compromise some of our comfort zone, we need to learn to ‘tame’ and take control of ourselves and that’s not always a walk in the park but it’s worth it at the end. This is what helps you build a solid ‘you’ and that’s what Saturn can teach you. Saturn also represents the matrix, the rules and limits of this big game so at its best, it can be the most helpful planet when it comes to teaching you how to navigate this world and to grow from your lessons. It other words it can help you manifest!!!! Saturn gives you clues on what you can do to materialize what you want, how you can translate things into reality

Saturn is actually very rewarding and liberating in the long run if you embrace the process of growth and take responsibility for yourself in the themes it is influencing in your chart. It gets to point in your life were Saturn’s like “yeah it is what it is. It sucks. Too bad. But the ball’s in your court now, what are you gonna do?”

Anyways this was a little spontaneous ramble of my thoughts. As always, don’t hesitate to share yours :)

by astrobydalia

[mancer-in-the-abbey]

This thought has been rotating this in my, MODERN GHOULS (plus Aether) AND HOW THEY ACT IN A FIGHT LETS GO

Dewdrop: Strike hard, strike fast, don’t get hit, that’s the motto. In a brawl scenario he is the first to hit under the belt, dude LOVES to fight dirty and he’s hella resourceful. He doesn’t take hits as well as he used to before the elemental transition, but he’s been working on increasing his speed to make up for it. You cannot and will not see him coming if he decides to deal the first hit, Prefers hand-to-hand (claw-to-claw?) combat over ranged fighting or straight elemental fighting due to a harder time accessing his fire power, but when he does MANNN is it a DELUGE of fire. The whole house is burning down.

Aether: In a brawl scenario, being as big and physically strong as he is makes him excel at disbanding/de-escalating. Aether is really good at taking a punch and being just completely unfazed by it, which is useful in getting people acting a fool to knock it off. If it’s real life or death, though? Ohhhh buddy you done fucked up the minute you messed with the guy who stitches people back together with magic on the regular. If he can do that, how easy do you think it is for him to UN-stitch someone? He doesn’t even need to raise a fist for you to be done for.

Phantom: Phantom, I think, is flight over fight in most ways. If someone wants to start something, he just goes invisible and nopes out of there. Having said that, if he IS stuck in a fight, is the KING of improv. Where Dew can walk into a room and come up with 10 different ways the objects in it can kill a man, Phantom can be handed an object, ANY object, and he will make it work. Not necessarily out of skill, but just sheer blind panic and the need to arm himself. Real scrappy, that ghoul… he has thrown a knife at a toaster for going off too loud and scaring him.

Rain: Rain has VERY good control over his element. If he has a choice between fighting on land a fighting in or near water, he’s taking the water option. That said, water is slightly harder to come by in everyday life unless one is just constantly carrying a bottle of water with them at all times. That is, unless you want to burst the water pipes of a building, which he HAS done once by accident and it was VERY expensive to fix. Anyway, lucky for him Rain does tend to just carry water on him anyway. Man needs to be hydrated, and it also functions as his built in self-defense. You trying to fight? Get geysered with a Stanley Cup, idiot. Assuming water ISN’T an option at all, though, Rain is a biter. You will lose a finger and he will tell you what hot sauce he’d pair you with after. Just for the extra psychic damage.

Swiss: Call my man Rocky the way he didn’t hear no bell, Swiss is RELENTLESS. Stamina in fucking SPADES, it don’t matter how many hits he takes, he will Not! Go! Down! Him and Phantom are similar in that they’re both survivors by any means necessary. In Phant’s case, it made him the master of Ending Situations Fast. In Swiss’s, though, it’s made him durable as an anvil and persistent as a lion. Combine that with whatever element is closest at hand and he’s a force to be reckoned with. And if he has the time to get really creative with his elemental powers? Buddy, you are not leaving that fight the same man you came in, if you leave at all.

Cirrus: Girl was a brawler back in the pit, so to me fighting as a way of life followed her onto the surface. Every bit of her is a weapon. Her hands? Weapons. Her arms? Weapons. Legs? Weapons. Face? Weapon. She is so light on her feet, you will not be able to land a single hit on her. She can blow you off-balance or keep you at arms length, always giving her the upper hand in confrontations. She also knows how to handle actual weapons really well. It’s a hobby of hers, swords are her favorite for sheer cool factor but give that woman a quarterstaff and she will go to WORK.

Cumulus: That is a woman who has a mean, right hook, I just know it in my bones. She enjoys learning self-defense from Cirrus, though more for the exercise than the fighting capability. Cumulus, like Aether, is more a lover than a fighter. However, should the need arise, she is more than capable of stopping a brawl in its tracks. You wanna throw hands? Bam! Sudden atmospheric pressure migraine! What are you gonna do now, idiot? It’s a good way to get all parties involved to scatter fast, leaving her with a quiet evening to herself.

Aurora: Ranged! Fighting! Queen! Someone let her watch Hunger Games and she has been perfecting how to hurt people from a distance ever since. Her aim started out shaky but has gotten SCARY good, she can hit you in the head with a fastball special from a sports field away. Also, she uses her Quintessence powers to manipulate light. Usually this is just for doing cool tricks and making the space look pretty, but she WILL flash-bang you if provoked.

Mountain: Don’t. Just don’t! Mountain may be a gentle giant these days but he wasn’t always. If you like your bones where they are, just don’t fucking bother! He will avoid conflict if it is at all possible, but if he thinks you might be an actual threat to his family, there is nowhere on the continent you will be safe!



[strayed-quokka]

babydoll || ji changmin || act ii

↳ Changmin isn’t popular nor is he rich, whereas you run on the other end of the spectrum, spoilt and living on your dads credit card. when you’re tasked with kicking him out of the biggest party of your year, you come to realise he’s not all that bad. unfortunately, falling in love with the ji changmin is your one way ticket to social suicide.

↳ pairing: ji changmin x female reader + ex lee juyeon x female reader

!!! this is not a love triangle !!!

~ rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

↳ genre: enemies to acquaintances to reluctant friends to lovers, slowburn, drama, angst, happy end but it takes a long ass time, rich girl broke ass uni boy

~ warnings: everyone still kinda sucks, juyeon is toxic and a red flag, manipulation, emotional abuse, toxic relationships, family abuse (implied, vaguely shown), bullying, reader is still a pain to deal with, alcohol, drug use, the classism is strong in this one still, implications of an eating disorder, body issues, body modifications (tongue and nipple piercings), changmin is basically a chainsmoker but we love him, minnie teaching ya'll and reader how to roll a cigarette, cocaine is common, so is imported wine, swearing, pet names (little doll, doll, darling, princess), whore and bitch, suicidal ideation, mild violence, first degree burns, taller reader with long hair, is anyone redeemable?

everyone is an adult in their 20s

!!! if I missed anything or I remember something else I will add it !!!

↳ words: 28,173

a/n: this is late. I apologise this shit is long as hell to edit and it broke tumblr and my computer.

I have said this previously but I will be stating this every chapter. There are some specific physical attributes to this reader which I usually avoid doing but for the story itself it was necessary.

Also, please note that the warnings are applicable to the chapter in question, not necessarily the whole story. You can find all the general warnings on the masterlist to babydoll. I also take no responsibility if you take issue with the topics and characters at hand once proceeding as I would hope you have read the warnings beforehand. If there is something I did genuinely miss in the warnings you are more than welcome to tell me though, since there is a lot and some might get overlooked.

let me know if you wanna be on the taglist and please I beg love up on this changmin he's taking all the strength I have and possess.

babydoll playlist || act i

You could go without hearing Changmin’s voice for the rest of your life. It’s not that it was an unattractive tone or that it was harsh, but it was the person behind it that immediately brought you to a halt. There was a very big part of you that almost knew what this was going to be about, and you were set on avoiding it. 

It was the very first time you didn’t stay to catch his attention. You walked away, heading down the stairs to the first floor in an attempt to shake him off. But Changmin was stubborn in his pursuit of you, especially today, and he persisted in running after you until he caught up and stood right in front of you to block your path. 

“Why am I wrapped up in a rumour that you want to fuck me?” 

It’s painfully embarrassing to hear those words from him. You’d expected it, given that in the past few days, the looks you’d received were ones that made you feel cornered, like prey being chased. Chanhee had even asked you, in a tone that sounded so judgemental that for a moment you thought he’d slipped into the opposing side. Juyeon’s side. 

Hyunjae had been worse. You’d deemed him a maybe friend, especially considering how he’d been standing up for you recently, but his tone, like he was amused and laughing at your massive fuck up and that it was somehow funny to him, had made you cold towards him. 

Younghoon was a nightmare. He’d grabbed your long hair by the roots and dragged you into an empty hallway to shame you. You’d embarrassed Juyeon and everyone knew about it. You fucked your ex boyfriend, used him for his money like a whore and then had the audacity to think about someone else.

It’s not like you had wanted to. 

It had been an honest mistake, a thought that fell away from you. 

Your social status had fallen to a new low. To a degree that had even Chanhee wary of speaking to you around others. You didn’t blame him, as you knew if it had been him, you’d likely cast him out much the same. See, that was the thing in both your circles, when it was all wealth and appearance and nothing of substance. Looks mattered, behaviour mattered, how awful you were to keep it perfect didn’t matter at all. 

You missed Chanhee but you didn’t beg for him. He spoke to you when he desired, asked if you were okay, even apologised once when you were alone, but the damage was done. 

Chanhee couldn’t fully understand it either. He knew you so well, he knew you’d never jeopardise yourself to this extent, so how were you possibly so stupid?

You straighten your posture but you’re more nervous than usual, hiding your palms underneath your hoodie as you fiddle with the sleeves. 

Yes, the same hoodie the man before you had returned perfectly new, wearing it like an oversized dress with heels that once again made you just a little taller, and right now, it reassured you. You were above him, both physically and in status, and that still remained true. He would never be better than you. 

“Says who?” 

You’re stoic and nonchalant in your behaviour, even ice cold as you try to keep all your expressions away from his prying eyes, but Changmin only raises his brows and leans against the wall in disbelief because he doesn’t believe it. You’re not sure why he doesn’t, anyone usually would, but he looks at you like you’re see through, like everything is laid out in front of him, like he knows you down to the bone and it makes you extremely uncomfortable to know that he’s analysing you for more than just your body. 

“Half the school is asking me why you moan my fucking name when some asshole fucks you and your concern is who?”

To be perfectly fair, both were of your concern. The fact that so many people approached a social outcast to ask him what the fuck you were doing, what you had done, all because Juyeon ran his mouth, just as much as who specifically had been the one to bring this to Changmin’s attention. 

“Juyeon?”

“No, though I hear he’s been riding out the emotionally torn up victim perfectly,” you almost laugh because you can imagine it so well. Juyeon’s ego had been bruised and he had to run around so that everyone would know about it, but you caught yourself by hiding the slight smile behind your hand. 

It wasn’t funny. 

“I really don’t care, you know? You can fantasise about me all you want. Is that why you kept my hoodie?”

He’d been so close. So close to making you take a step back, if even just for a minute to tell him it was okay. Because the reality, as much as you hated it, was that none of this was really Changmin’s fault, even if you wanted it to be. 

And then he went and ruined it, and it made you snap.

“You think I fucking like Juyeon going around telling people that I said someone else’s name when I fucked him?! Like you so graciously told me to?! 

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t you think I’m humiliated enough?! It’s so fucking embarassing that it had to be you,” and that’s when you break. The cruelty of your words aren’t lost on you, but the emotional torment and humiliation you feel is even worse. You don’t let yourself, but it happens almost on its own when you start to cry, and you never cry. 

Not like this, but the tears fall so freely that you couldn’t catch the droplets between your fingers even if you tried, and Changmin just stands there like an idiot. He stands there and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s amused in watching your vulnerability or because he genuinely feels bad, but either feel equally as bad at this point. 

You run away as a result, and this time it proves successful as Changmin doesn’t seem to be following you, so you keep going. You run all the way to your car and when the door closes you allow yourself to really break, because you feel like your life is ruined. You feel like everything you worked for, and everything that was so unbearably painful to work towards, was for nothing. People looked at you now and saw one thing. You were the one who hurt Juyeon, someone well loved, in a manner that is so utterly humiliating that anyone would say he deserved better. 

Juyeon was never the bad guy, and you just had no idea how to possibly spin it so that he could look to be the one who’d caused you more pain than you’d caused him. For the truth to your relationship had ran deep behind closed doors and you’d never let anyone in on it, and yet you slip up once and he lets the mask fall on who you are. 

At least, who you are in his eyes. 

You were sure now more than ever before that you and Juyeon were over, and it was like experiencing a break up all over again. It hurt, a lot, because there was once a time in which you would’ve said you maybe loved him. And the reality of him at the very least never caring to preserve your dignity and appearances when he knew how hard you worked for it and what you did to attain it, was a brutal reality that you simply did not want to face. 

Weeks go by and you’re sure your life has hit a wall that you’ll never get over. You felt dramatic, sure, but you were certain you could simply cease to exist and it wouldn’t really matter anymore. It wasn’t that you’d made any plans at your life. It was more so a feeling of if you faded away, would it even make a difference? 

You didn’t think it would. You’d let yourself sink to the status that Juyeon had asked for. You crashed, horrifically, falling so depressed that getting to class was a challenge, much less looking presentable. Your endless pairs of heels were replaced with trainers, ones you liked from dior but not nearly as graceful and elegant as what you usually had on, and you practically lived in hoodies that posed as dresses because they were just about long enough. 

You still wore make up, but it was far less intricate than before, and your hair was usually up in a high ponytail because you just wanted it out of your face, and you wanted to hide the fact that you barely had the energy to brush through it. 

Everything was tiring. Having everyone stare at you, treat you so far beneath yourself for something that had been no one's business was an awful, terrifyingly isolating feeling. You’d never been more aware of your appearance ever before as you were now, and yet you’d also never been as unenthused to fix it in your life. What was the point when the looks were the same. You were judged, beneath them. 

You’d sunk to Changmin’s status, and for the first time you wondered how he could do it. How was he able to brush almost anything off, to seem so unbothered, when he was being torn apart from all directions. You’d done it to him, but you’d seen others do it far worse, and yet he acted just the same. It was something you wished you knew how to mirror, for maybe then it would at least earn you some respect back where he couldn’t, because he lacked the privilege you had. 

Chanhee had brought you a coffee in the morning, your absolute favourite order and therefore you knew how expensive it was. A mix of extra shots of coffee and syrup, but it was refreshing and made you smile as he kissed the top of your head. You appreciated it more than he probably knew, because Chanhee hadn’t been around you much in recent weeks. Ever since it happened, you wouldn’t call it distance, but more missed chances to cross each other and neither of you made an effort to fix it. 

Normally, Chanhee loved to pry. He wanted all the dirt and tea he could get out of you, but it’s like he knew to not cross this line, and the end result was distance. It was ironic, really, because you could’ve really used someone to talk to. For someone to ask with a non judgemental tone what the actual fuck had happened. 

Even if in truth you didn’t fully know either where the hell you had gone wrong. 

Changmin had tried to talk to you one more time but you’d turned him away. It’s like he’d chosen the worst moment, exactly when Hyunjae and Juyeon turned the hallway towards you both, and if you had even considered staying for a bit to hear what he had to say, it all went out the window as they showed up. You turned so fast to run that the three of them would likely fail to catch you. 

Juyeon had somehow managed to spread more rumours, because the kicked little kitten had seen you with the very man you’d thought of. It felt ridiculous, even pathetic, the way he was dragging it, and yet the way you knew to stand up for yourself was entirely lost on you. You forgot to speak, forgot how to be firmly yourself with your thoughts to tell them all to go to hell. You forgot how to exist in yourself.

You went home that day and saw Changmin’s dark hoodie laying on the edge of your bed where you’d left it in the morning, and you decided you’d had enough. You weren’t a weak person, and you were letting yourself be walked over and dragged with the name of someone you didn’t even like. Why the hell would you stand for it, like he was worth more than you? 

It was five in the morning when you got ready for your lecture three hours away. You dragged yourself into your shower, your little cat watching you with peculiar eyes because you were never up this early. She knew that, so she found it rather odd and just sat there perched curiously on the counter where all your makeup was messily strewn about for someone else to clean. 

Changmin might’ve forgotten about the hoodie entirely, accepting defeat and transferring ownership, but you wanted to cut any and all strings with him. You wanted to have no part of you be intertwined with him, no association or ties that meant you even knew each other. 

And you would do it looking absolutely stunning. 

Your dress sits so tight it threatens to hurt you, but it forms around your body well and the length is just enough to be acceptable if you tape it to your thigh before it rises above your ass. Not class appropriate, but its never bothered you before. 

You decide to wear one of your three red bottom heels, the highest ones you own, the colour black to go with the same coloured dress, paired with your silver jewellery. The ridiculous hoodie in your hand ruins the entire aesthetic, but at least you’d be rid of it soon. 

When your driver drops you off at school, you make the not so unusual albeit stupid decision to cut a line of cocaine on a small piece of decorated glass that you keep in the car to break and distribute the powder into lines, because you’re tired as hell and have to withstand a lot of stares today. That, and you would willingly go looking for Changmin, his piece of clothing hidden away, folded neatly and delicately in a discarded designer shopping bag from one of your many expensive trips on your exes dime. 

Maybe you needed a cigarette. A bottle of wine wouldn’t hurt either.

“You look very nice today,” it was a careful voice, Hyunjae, but you frowned when you turned to look at him. He was alone, well dressed with a cologne you couldn’t recognise, rare in your case, but nice. It wasn’t overbearing, and it mirrored the man in front of you quite well. 

“Since when do you take the time to give me a compliment?”

“I just think you look nice,” he sounds honest and sincere, which in truth you do believe he means. You don’t think he’s carelessly choosing to say words to make you feel better, but it still doesn’t sit well with you, so you smile at him gently and touch his shoulder to squeeze it and ask for his attention.

“Well don’t, Jae,” he lets you leave, and you’re determined more than anything to find the man you wish to blame everything on. There’s a bounce to your step, wide awake now as the drug infiltrates your bloodstream, and you’re almost a little excited to get it all over with. 

You’re even more excited at the prospect of dragging Juyeon down beneath you, but that was for later.

You’d just about given up on finding Changmin when after your final class, the library proved successful in your search. However, it also proved to be a mistake. You’re not sure what the reason is, but seeing Changmin makes you stop. You hit that familiar wall, except now it's a dam and it’s threatening to break. And if it breaks, so do you. 

You’re emotionally charged in a way you don’t want to be, simply because you see him standing there, reaching for a book dressed in a simple t-shirt with his glasses perched over his nose that looks almost crafted from the side at which you're standing. It hits you suddenly, that you find Changmin to be physically beautiful. Even when he isn’t well dressed, there is a simplicity to him that is welcoming, and it makes you want to turn away. 

He notices you, probably because a shadow loomed to his side and he was notified of your presence because you simply stood there. He’s carrying three books, and you wonder what they are, but then he moves towards you with a confused stare that has you thinking you couldn’t do this. 

“Is there something on my face?”

His voice breaks you free from your mind in which you are a prisoner, or at least feel like one with your overwhelming thoughts that you simply never wish to have. Everything seems so easy for him, talking to you seems simple, and you’re wondering why you can’t formulate words to return it when it shouldn’t require any effort at all. 

“I have your hoodie,” you keep your voice low just in case, but he hears it and seems to curiously perk up at the prospect of getting his clothes back. 

“Oh? I figured you were keeping that,” honestly, so did you. You’d really wanted to, because it was still insanely comfortable to you. You loved it, in truth, for the way it wrapped around you felt soft, like you were nestled up in something that wouldn’t hurt your skin and never sat too tight just to form your body a certain way. 

“I don’t want anything that ties me to you,” you wonder if it stings, when you insult him like this, but he makes no face that tells you it does. He’s perfect at hiding how he feels, and you nearly wish to ask him how he does it. How does he remain so okay, when things so cruel and hurtful are thrown his way? 

You wish to emulate it, even in this moment, but you can’t. 

It’s the one part of him you wished you could learn to take for yourself.

“Are you okay?” 

Those three words hit you like a knife straight through your chest, reverberating deep in your bones as your entire resolve breaks. Your walls fall apart yet again and he’s the one to do it, because in truth you aren’t and he’s the only one to even ask the questions in weeks apart from Chanhee. People you consider your friends, or would consider anything at this point that Changmin isn’t, haven’t even asked, and yet he stands before you and doesn’t even seem to stumble over the words to pose the question. 

And it makes you cry. 

It’s absolutely humiliating to cry like this and the mascara burns your eyes in an instant, and yet every effort to stop forsakes you because it all makes it worse. Changmin stands there so awkwardly, like he might have ways to comfort someone but no ways of knowing how to comfort you, and you’re fairly certain he wishes to turn away because he finds it uncomfortable to simply stand here with you, in a corner, far from others yet not far enough that no one could see if they didn’t go to look

“I… listen… I really didn’t mean to make you cry,” you can tell he doesn’t like it. Maybe because it’s you or he’s uneasy by it in general, but it fills you up with even more embarrassment as you try to will your body to walk away. Yet you’ve turned to stone, accepting your humiliation because how much lower could you go before his eyes? You’ve broken entirely and he’s witnessed almost every second of your demise as you became nothing of value to absolutely everyone around you. You really were like a whore.

“Can you just t-take it?” 

Forcing the bag into his fingers doesn’t work, and you note for the first time the silver rings he wears. You’re surprised you missed it before, or maybe he wasn’t always wearing them, but they’re intricate in their simplicity and you wish to have a closer look, though you wouldn’t be the one to ask. 

“Listen… I know you have some pathetically unjustified hatred towards me-” you scoff, only to prove his point that has him rolling his dark brown eyes because he’s exasperated that you simply can’t let him finish, “I also find you incredibly fucking annoying and a raging bitch-”

“Hey!” 

You want to hit him, yet you’re not going to disagree with him. You know how to hurt people well, how to manipulate a situation and how to come out on top above everyone else and so it earned you occasionally negative titles that were sometimes deserved. 

Nevertheless you weren’t quite sure what he was getting at. 

“Do you want to get some ice cream?”

Whatever it was, it hadn’t been that. You hadn’t expected to be asked to go anywhere with him, and yet here you both were, in a position of vulnerability for him and one even more for you. You were conflicted and uncertain in what you’re answer should be, because even if your first thought was to say no and reject him, it wasn’t what you truly wanted. 

“What?”

“Ice cream makes anything better. Don’t you think?” 

Well, no, you didn’t think so, for it added weight where you didn’t need it, and yet you didn’t want to turn him away. You were upset, evidently, and he was trying to do something to bring a smile to your lips and you hated that it felt like it was working. It shouldn’t be working, and yet you were heavily considering it. 

“Fine, but I don’t need us to leave together.”

“I have another class, anyway,” but the way he spoke made you wonder if he’d been willing to skip it, if you’d immediately said yes to something you’d never thought you’d hear him ask. He almost seemed bitter but you weren’t quite able to feel bad. 

But you wouldn’t mind ice cream, if you were honest.

“I can meet you there,” Changmin seems surprised, perking up in a way that is strangely endearing yet you refuse a smile, waiting for him to tell you where to go. 

“It's just a ten minute walk from here. Amorino, I think.”

You’d heard of it, but in truth you’d never been, but it was meant to be good for the little it cost, so maybe it was worth a try. 

“Fine. I’ll be there,” you’d get some of your assignments done, maybe, but first you’d need to spend the next hour in front of a mirror so that you didn’t look like an absolute mess, even when you felt like one. Changmin looked like he wanted to say something else, but he bit his tongue and walked away from you with your hands still firmly latched around the strap of your shopping bag. You wondered if he’d intentionally left it in your grasp, if there was a reason he was no longer so hellbent on getting it back, but you weren’t going to dwell on it. 

And you were not keeping it any longer either. If anything, you’d blame your willingness and brief vulnerability to say yes on the fact that you simply just wanted to be rid of him, and that included the item you were holding. 

You almost wished the rain had put him off from walking through the glass doors that led inside a sickly sweet smelling cafe, slightly cool because of the various ice cream needing the lower temperature. Sadly, it hadn’t, and Changmin walked in just a little over an hour after you had taken a seat in a corner far inside the shop, hoping that if anyone you knew would walk past, they wouldn’t recognise you. When he spots you, he seems almost as apprehensive as you to approach, brushing through his matted down wet strands of dark hair to move them away from his forehead. 

“I’m surprised you’re here,” it seems true. Like he hadn’t expected you to really show up and in truth it seemed like the most reasonable assumption to make, because you really had no idea either. 

“Me too,” he smiles at you and it makes you uncomfortable, for the shift in the way he treated you seemed disingenuous, yet nothing about it told you that his kindness in looking at you wasn’t real. It’s like you’d genuinely managed to amuse him with little to no effort, after the countless times in which you were a pain in his ass. 

“Do you know which flavour you’d like?”

“I… honestly can’t decide,” it all sounded heavenly. You couldn’t remember when you’d last indulged in a sweet treat like this, even if it hadn’t been intentional to go so long without. It just never came to be for a very long time and suddenly you were overwhelmed with flavours that you wanted to try. You could’ve eaten half the menu, and yet you barely desired one in terms of calories.

“I think you can choose up to three for one cone,” three seemed absurd. It seemed excessive and yet the temptation to try three was so overbearing that you wanted to give in.

“Are you having three?”

“Probably,” you nod, falling silent because you really don’t know how to talk to him normally. Changmin was a stranger to you, and you fully realise it when you sit across from him and realise that you don’t know him at all. You don’t know who he is, how he thinks, aside from what he tells you, and the only other thing you know is what he looks like, and that he often adjusts his glasses as if they sit just a little too big. 

“I can order for us both,” he offers, breaking you out of your trance to once again be reminded of how strange this is. You don’t like Changmin, yet sitting with him like this is simple. It’s weird, but it’s easier than expected. It’s very awkward, but it’s simple. 

“You don’t have to order for me.”

“It was an offer, not a demand,” you roll your eyes, though his kindness isn’t lost on you and you’re once again sat here wondering what you’re really doing, and wondering why Changmin’s shift in personality was so sudden but genuine. 

“Stracciatella, dulce de leche and coffee.”

“I can tell you’re rich,” you wonder if it’s an insult, but if it is he’s smiling and that almost makes it worse. You know how to do it best, smile through something you didn’t mean, or something that was an insult but you wanted the other person to maybe have hope that it wasn’t meant that way. Or maybe he was joking, and the slight tease just went way over your head. 

“What’re you think?” 

“Vanilla, lemon and amarena,” you nod, as if to just tell him you were listening but have nothing to say. 

“But I’m the rich one,” it’s your way of figuring out if he was teasing too, by doing so back and seeing what his reaction will be. Changmin seems amused and you relax in knowing that he wasn’t mocking you. 

“What’s wrong with those flavours?”

“Nothing,” you draw out, staring back at the menu to decide on a coffee, “I’ll get a drink.”

Changmin seems to hesitate just briefly and realisation dawns on you. You’ve always looked down on him for having less money, for not affording things, but it didn’t cross your mind that he might not even be able to afford this. The issue then became that you had no idea how to delicately approach it. 

“I’ll pay for it,” you tell him, but there’s surprise on his face and a hint of frustration, and you wonder if you read it all wrong. 

“I’m not in poverty, you do know that, right?”

Honestly, you didn’t. It might’ve been embarrassing to admit but you weren’t quite sure at what point someone was considered within poverty because very often, your parents had shown you that even the most common ordinary people lacked money and therefore weren’t content in life. You had no real way of measuring what was really considered little. Hell, you barely knew what your family had in regards to wealth, because you rarely looked at the money you spent. You knew you always had it, so you spent it, without having to think about it. 

In your mind, anyone that had to consider their spending was poor. 

Sat here now with Changmin was probably the first moment in which you briefly think that might’ve been wrong. That maybe he was cautious with money but not without it. If he was without it, he would likely not be as inviting to sit with and dressed the way he was, even if you’d never buy clothes like the ones he wore. 

“I’d still like to pay,” you offer, and you’re not really sure why. You’re here to give him this stupid bag that’s been weighing down on your mind all day as you chased after him, and maybe you’re also hoping to buy his silence on the fact that you cried before him and have done so twice now. 

“I invited you here,” he was right. Usually, at least how you were raised, the one inviting the other is the one to pay unless otherwise agreed, which had never been the case for you before, yet it was now. 

“And I’m telling you to let me pay.”

“You’re really demanding you know?”

You knew. It’s how you got what you wanted, to make demands rather than ask questions. Changmin seems displeased but he doesn’t argue with you, shrugging his jacket off to drape it over the chair before he gets up and waits. 

“What?” 

“You’re not coming with?”

“Just take my card. Three, five, seven, two,” you hold it out to him between your long manicured nails and he looks at you like you’re insane. It’s another reminder of how different you two are, of how giving him access to sums he’s never even seen or hoped to dream of meant absolutely nothing to you, because it really didn’t.

“Thanks?”

Changmin walks away, but it’s only brief before he’s turned back around to approach you, “which coffee did you want?”

“A latte macchiato,” he nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts again as you watch his back. The weather has since gotten worse, but it’s quite cosy from here, to simply watch the rain fall, the droplets chasing after one another from top to bottom, only to repeat over and over again in different patterns. The heating was on too, and it was quite comfortable to simply sit here. 

The girl at the counter smiles at Changmin in a way that makes you want to turn away, not because someone flirting with him bothers you, but because you can’t believe how ridiculous she’s being in doing so. He’s here with you, and she’s practically begging for it. 

Whatever she says, he seems polite but distant enough for her to straighten her posture and adjust her smile to a more professional one, and so you take that as a rejection on his part. You’re not sure why you find that so satisfying, that she didn’t get her way, but you’re happy about it regardless as he’s handed two ice cream cones that seem far more intricate than you’d expected. 

It’s only when he comes closer that you realise that the ice cream has been layered together to form the shape of multiple rose petals and ultimately a flower, three separately assorted colours that make up the flavours you asked for, “they’re still making the coffees.”

“Thanks,” you take the ice cream from him carefully, admiring its shape and look. It’s beautiful, really, and it does put a gentle smile on your face as you manage a little laugh in amusement, “it’s pretty.”

You wonder if Changmin knew how they put the ice cream together. If maybe he suggested this place because he figured something as simple as an ice cream shaped like beautiful petals belonging to a rose would cheer you up or make you feel better for the absolute mess that had become your life. For the emotional turmoil you felt as you fell in importance and high regard in others’ eyes. 

You mattered less to almost everyone you knew and it bothered you greatly.

Both of you fall silent, likely because neither of you have anything to say. There’s nothing to talk about, not between the two of you, and there’s no attempt at changing it either. Neither of you want to become friends, and yet here you both sit being friendly. 

How strange the world worked sometimes.

“I’m sorry Juyeon’s such a dick to you,” it takes you by complete surprise to hear him speak, and whilst normally you’d find yourself frustrated to hear him even bring it up again, it’s oddly comforting to hear an opinion you agree with, albeit planned to have kept from Changmin. You want him to believe that things are perfect, that you and Juyeon are perfect, because you hold on to the false belief that maybe it would be. 

“Juyeon’s just… a guy, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you wonder why he says it. If he’s trying to tell you he’s better than Juyeon and if so, why it would matter. You have no interest in him and never would, so there was no need for Changmin to make himself better than the man you somehow spent still loving, despite all his horrifying flaws.

And there were many of them, and yet you still saw it with rose tinted glasses. Whilst aware of it, it mattered less to you. 

“I don’t plan to ever have sex with you if-“

“That wasn’t an invitation,” again, your eyes roll almost instantly. He’s too good at being frustrating, and he sits there with his body leaned forward like he’s engaged in you while he takes a bite of his ice cream. 

A bite.

“You’re insane. Why do you bite it?”

“It’s food?”

“It’s cold.”

“Why would I want to just lick it? I barely get any ice cream and then it melts.”

You watch as he bites into another petal and you push your body up a little to see what flavour it might’ve been. 

“Vanilla,” he answers and you nod, sitting back with your one leg crossed over the other.

“Isn’t vanilla a little plain?”

“Is that a double entendre?”

It’s so easy to give up when the conversation is so static, so forced because you truly have nothing to talk about. What the hell do you both even have in common?

“I have a cat,” Changmin laughs and it’s a little unexpected, his smile so light and his dimples set deep in his cheeks. It’s an inviting smile, warm, and his tone of laughter is unique and suits him. There’s a childlike amusement to his features as he looks down at the table. 

“I also have a cat,” you were curious to see her, or him, but you didn’t really want to ask. Both of you sharing photos of your pets over ice cream and coffee was a little bit too friendly, but you supposed there was now something you had in common, “but I don’t really like cats.”

Nevermind.

“Then why do you have one?”

He thinks, just for a minute as he drinks some of his coffee that had been brought over just a few short minutes before, and you must say now you really want to know why he has a pet he doesn’t even like. 

“I found him on the streets. He was put in a box and it was raining. Wasn’t going to take him first because I didn’t want one. But when I went to call someone in the shop nearby, he’d somehow jumped out of the box and started to follow me. He just wouldn’t leave.”

It was unexpectedly sweet and very much something you would’ve never considered. Of course your cat was store bought, expensive and from a litter from a breeder that had done this for the past decade or two. Getting a cat of the streets, even if unintentionally was so out of your character, but you knew when to admit you found it to be kind of Changmin to have done so. 

“You kept him?”

“I did. He��s very sweet.”

“Chanhee says my cat is a diva.”

“So she takes after you. Figures,” you could hit him, but you bite your tongue and try a new flavour of the ice cream petals. Coffee. Definitely. 

The conversation dies again when it would be so easy to keep it going, but it’s like neither of you have any desire to do so. And yet, you find yourself far more at ease sitting here than you would’ve thought when you first agreed to it. You didn’t feel like you had to make up the silence that you both shared.

He seemed to share the same thoughts, though he didn’t often share eye contact with you. You weren’t sure if he was hesitant to or maybe he just didn’t want to look at you, but previous times you’d met him, he’d always been good at looking you in the eye. It was a little strange that he seemed to look everywhere else but at you now, unless you spoke. 

“You smoke, right?” Painful. These occasional conversations littered into being sat here were just simply weird, but you watch as he grabs a bag of loose tobacco out of his jacket as well as some rolling paper and a filter. 

“Didn’t you smoke straights last time?”

“You remember?”

Fuck. 

“I didn’t forget you offering me one,” he shrugs and you watch as he distributes the tobacco onto the paper carefully between his jewellery adorned fingers. It was distracting and you could curse again for it, because he was doing it all effortlessly with one hand. 

“You want one now?” 

“I can do it…” he seems to hesitate though ultimately pushes the bag of tobacco over to your end of the table, and you fiddle with the cone of your ice cream between your one hand whilst figuring out how to do this with the other. Actually, how the fuck had Changmin done this? 

“How did you-”

“Put it on the table first. You can roll with one hand,” he was definitely more confident in your abilities than you were, and maybe that was sweet but it was also giving you far more credit than you deserved. 

You didn’t even want to admit that you couldn’t roll a cigarette at all. You always bought straights, the times you bought any at all. Doing it yourself seemed like extra effort for not much pay off. 

You try to mirror Changmin, seeing how much tobacco he used and loosening up the dried leaves between your fingers the way he had done as they all clung together in the bag, then adding a generous amount to the paper you’d taken out of its flat packaging. 

“Do you always smoke American spirit?”

“I tend to. Or marlboro. Why?”

You shrug, going back to what you’re doing but you very quickly realise you’ll need both hands. Watching him do it, pushing and pinching the thin paper together to tighten the tobacco with two fingers, maybe three at best, was ridiculous. 

“Do you want me to hold your ice cream?”

At this point, you’re determined to prove both him and you that you can do this, when you know the reality is you can’t. Changmin doesn’t know that though, and how hard could it be to roll a cigarette, really?

“You can have it.”

“You have more than half left,” he frowns, putting his nearly rolled cigarette down on the table as he holds your ice cream, watching you and the way your fingers take both ends of the paper to pinch it together, “is it not good?”

“It’s nice. It’s not the flavour,” hopefully, he knows to drop the conversation. Though you look up and can tell by his expression that he likely wants to keep asking but you don’t see why you should need to justify it. 

“You need to… no… you have too much,” he sighs, wanting to reach over but both his hands are occupied with both of your ice cream cones and so he can only sit trapped wishing to intervene as you try to make adjustments when he complains with no real instructions as to how you can do it better, “you’ve never done this before.”

“So I’ve been caught,” as if one of the cafe staff had noticed him struggling, they bring over a holder for two ice cream cones that are scattered on a few tables, yours not having been one of them. 

“Thank you,” he redirects his attention to you, hands free, “look, I’ll teach you,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you’ve let go of the damaged bundle of tobacco in a scrunched up paper, looking between its state and back up at Changmin. You didn’t want him to teach you anything, because you didn’t think he had anything worth showing you. Yet at the same time, you didn’t enjoy not knowing how to do something, and if he was willingly prepared to show you how to actually do it, maybe you shouldn’t deny him. 

“I don’t really smoke…” 

“I won’t encourage you to,” he grabs another rolling paper, holding it out to you and you hesitate but ultimately take it between your fingers as he does the same, ignoring his near finished cigarette to start over, “but I smoke a lot, so I’ll take it off your hands if you don’t want it.”

“You’ll get cancer,” you’re disgusted but you don’t have much of a right to be. You smoke too and do far worse things. Every party could bring you to the brink of death if you aren’t careful enough with what you’re using, and yet you’re telling him he’s risking his life. 

“Thanks, the packaging hadn’t told me,” you recognise Changmin’s sarcastic tone well by now, given that it’s the tone he mostly spoke to you in, but you also don’t retaliate this time. You had nothing to say, nothing to add that wouldn’t be another circular back and forth of neither of you ever getting to the point or settling a fight. 

“The tobacco is quite tight, so you’ll have to loosen it with your fingers a little before you put it on the paper.”

“What about the filter?”

“It’s harder to roll with a filter. Try without first,” but you’re stubborn, and you grab a filter and bring it to one edge of the rolling paper before he can take it away from you. Sighing, he relents and grabs one too to demonstrate more accurately. 

“You’re ridiculous,”

“And I won’t be caught dead smoking a non filtered cigarette.”

“You should try it. The nicotine high is amazing,” okay, so maybe you’d reconsider. You’d never thought of it, even if it was obvious, “you’re curious now.”

“I might be,” Changmin smiles and your cheeks feel a little warmer, but surely it’s the warm coffee and the indoor heating and not the fact that he looked at you with eyes that were gentle, like his happiness in showing you something wasn’t structured into an act of false behaviour.

Then you wonder why it makes any difference. If he wasn’t being genuine, did it matter?

He leans back over and slips the filter away from your paper, then adjusts and sits up a little straighter before his body moves back into your space to be a little closer to demonstrate. 

“So, you loosen some of the tobacco between your fingers. This one is quite dry- and then you bring it onto the paper like so,” you follow his lead, though you could’ve managed this part on your own. This was the one part you’d done correctly without his help, “you want it to be pretty even but don’t worry about it not being perfect.”

“It has to be perfect,” he sighs, his head rolling down in defeat before he slowly looks back up at you. 

“Perfection is an unattainable fantasy. Now take your fingers and move them to either edge and pinch while rolling it like so.”

You follow his lead though if you’re entirely honest, you have no idea how he makes it look so easy and effortless. His tobacco bunches together into a beautiful neat line perfectly, whilst yours is a disaster in which it falls or thins out too much on one end. It feels awkward and incorrect, the way you do it, and yet you’re following his exact instructions. 

“You’re terrible at this.”

“Or you suck at teaching,” giving up was tempting, but showing Changmin defeat wasn’t an option. You wanted to get this, no matter how awful the end outcome would be. 

“You have the ends. Move your fingers more into the middle to roll.”

“It doesn’t work like that!”

He looks exasperated, his glasses moving slightly as he raises his brows and huffs out in annoyance at your inability to do something he deemed simple, “you’re just bad at this. That’s okay.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not bad at things.”

“Just roll the paper over once you have the right shape. Wet the end and seal it and then you can tap the end against the table,” he shows you how, but he does it so quickly you barely manage to follow his movements. He’s amazing at it, you do have to admit, but you hate him for it because you want to be better. It’s irrational, because how realistic is it for you to be better at rolling a cigarette when you’d never done it before, when Changmin had probably done it for years?

“It’s not tight like yours though.”

“Just try. You have the movement right,” but it doesn’t feel right. It feels awkward and you might just blame it on your acrylics for not managing, but the end result is so pathetic that you’re surprise the cigarette even holds. 

“It’s… a cigarette.”

“I’m not smoking that,” Changmin doesn’t seem surprised, but he does surprise you when he places his perfectly rolled cigarette right before you and takes yours instead, placing it behind his ear before retrieving his jacket and taking his melting ice cream, “you coming?”

Well, you suppose you were now. 

You grab the bag with his hoodie in one hand, Changmin’s cigarette in the other as you follow him outside, leaving your ice cream to melt before it’s thrown away. It’s not unnoticed by him either, and he turns around to grab it between his fingers, “if you won’t have it, I will. You’re wasting money and good ice cream.”

“I’m watching my figure.”

“Why?”

He holds both cones in one hand with their remnants of sweet gelato, placing his cigarette between his lips and lighting it with one hand turned away from the storm and rain. The shop has an overhang to shield you both from direct downpour, but lighters are stubborn with wind and he seems to know it well. 

His one worded question seems strange. It’s not worried, nor is it judgemental. At least you don’t perceive it to be. It’s simply confused, like he’s genuinely surprised that you would even bother at all. 

“Because I want to be thin.”

Changmin wants to say something. You can tell he does, that there’s something right on his lips yet he doesn’t speak it. He resists words he probably knows you really don’t want to hear. He would be right, because any comments about your body aren’t welcomed unless they’re compliments that remind you of what you’ve worked for. All the times you don’t eat are rewarded with the acknowledgement of it. 

“Here,” he holds out his lighter, the flame igniting right by your lips in which the cigarette is perched carefully, and you lean in enough and inhale so that it burns. 

“Thanks.”

“You really are peculiar,” you don’t see how you are. From your point of view, he’s the abnormal one. He dresses cheap despite the school he attends, he doesn’t socialise, and he seems so ignorant to his surroundings and the importance of appearance, “I have to go.”

It takes you by surprise. Your thoughts had been so tangled and convoluted that you hadn’t seen him take his phone out, much less fumble with the ice cream, his cigarette and the device to answer whoever it was. 

You wondered who it was. 

“Who is it?”

You can’t help it. Call it morbid curiosity, even in regards to Changmin of all people, “I completely forgot I have a date.”

The thought of anyone going out with Changmin was a concept you weren’t ready to wrap your head around, but maybe if it was a girl he’d met online, she’d based it merely on appearance and even you wouldn’t fully be able to say that he was ugly. You knew he wasn’t, as much as it pained you to admit he was actually rather beautiful when he didn’t open his mouth. 

“Is she cute?”

“She’s cute, yeah,” but he doesn’t seem excited. It almost feels like an insult to hear how he speaks about the prospect of his date. Were all men like this?

Had Juyeon been so disinterested when he first dated you?

“You’re going dressed like this?”

“What’s wrong with it?” 

Boy, he really wasn’t trying. It felt near cruel, because you were almost certain that the girl would be beautiful, and even if her physical appearance wasn’t as gorgeous, she would make up for it in every way with the way she chose to dress. 

And Changmin was in casual attire, his hair had fallen to his face and he seemed tired. 

“Poor girl.”

“It’s really not your business,” and then he discards his cigarette and grabs the bag you’d been holding without warning, practically ripping it out of your hand and the movement feels more aggressive than you’re used to from him. His tone could be harsh but his actions never were, and so it surprised you when he didn’t even ask to take it. 

“Thank you for the hoodie.”

He doesn’t sound thankful at all. Changmin sounds annoyed, as he throws the little remnants of ice cream cone with next to no ice cream left, in the trash he passes as he walks away from you. You stand there, empty handed aside from the cigarette that was burning but barely smoked, and you honestly feel lost. You’re strangely confused and unsure, and you really don’t quite know why.

You felt like maybe you’d managed to really get under his skin, and if that were the case, you were sure it was the first time you’d ever managed it. Yet you’d expected it to feel different, to frustrate him enough to show true emotion in his anger and discontent towards you. 

Instead it just felt like nothing.

You’re not sure what to make of Changmin. But you had bought a packet of loose tobacco and pink rolling paper to fiddle with in the comfort of your large bedroom. You were near naked, just out of your shower and only in underwear whilst you fiddled around with the cigarette in your hand. It was fucking difficult, and you’d probably gone through ten different videos on youtube teaching you how to do it. At least trying to, and each time you just failed to fully do it right. 

Juyeon had called you and while you’d originally wanted to pick up and even thought to, by the time you made any attempt to move your hands, he’d already hung up.

Chanhee had also called though and you had picked up, asking how he was though he pushed for you to answer first, and you hadn’t known what to say. You felt fine yet simultaneously you felt strangely numb. It wasn’t that you didn’t care, it’s that Juyeon had worn you down. He’d broken something in you and collecting the pieces wasn’t possible because not all parts still existed. 

Convincing yourself that it was over was difficult when Juyeon was right there to call back. 

You wanted to. 

It takes about ten failed attempts at rolling a cigarette before you manage one that’s just decent enough to smoke, and in your mind you wish to share your success with Changmin, since he was the one that had witnessed your inability to do it in the first place. You wanted to prove a point, as petty and unimportant as it was. You could roll a damn cigarette. 

But you’d rather roll over in your grave than ask anyone for his phone number. If anyone even had it. He’d said he was supervising a friend the night you first really spoke to him but you’d yet to see him talking with anyone at all. Who was Changmin friends with, if anyone at all?

The question dwelled on you curiously. You didn’t think he’d lied to you that night, you had to at least give him the benefit of his annoying ability to always speak what you assumed to be his truth. He didn’t care of the consequence or if it hurt, and you supposed maybe that was where your one similarity lay. 

If you hurt someone, it didn’t really matter as long as it made you look good.

“Dear? Could I come in?” 

Your mother being home was unexpected. Her knocking on your bedroom door to ask if she could come in was even stranger. It made you worry, and you quickly discarded all your rolled cigarettes in a drawer as well as any other damning evidence aside from the one now considered a masterpiece to show off. You placed it behind your ear and straightened your posture, “yeah?”

“You need to draw the curtains,” she criticised, walking over to the massive window to give you far more than you bargained for with the natural sunlight despite the depressing clouds, “and we do not smoke indoors.”

“I’m not smoking it!”

“Attitude,” you want to sigh but you’re sure that runs in the same category as what she’d just warned you about in your tone, so you bite your tongue and just wait to hear what she wants. 

“I’ve been told you’ve missed a lot of your classes.” 

“By who?” 

“We had dinner with the Lee’s. Juyeon expressed his concern over you. Why you ever broke up with that handsome young man is beyond me, Y/N,” yeah, it was beyond you too, at this point. Clearly you were the fucking idiot, as everyone so rightfully had begun to assume. Juyeon was the perfect man, one most girls would probably dream of and you had him. You had him, and you wasted the opportunity to be happy with him. 

And what for? 

“I know, mother.”

“You should come with this time. Maybe you can both make up before we go on that lovely vacation together.”

“What…?”

She stands by the edge of your bed with condescending eyes that look down on you and make you feel small, which was ironic because your mother was about a head shorter than you and incredibly petite, but her personality was so in your face, her stare so cold that it made you feel like nothing. She made you feel insignificant and she did so perfectly. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten? You’ve always been forgetful,” you cast your eyes down to your lap, listening to her berate you and having no real way of defending yourself without it earning you a slap or worse. 

“I’m sorry. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Go on a walk. You could go to the docks on one of the boats. I don’t care. But stop missing classes because I will not have a failure of a child when she gets everything handed to her,” it stings. It really stings to be insulted so genuinely. Your grades were by no means terrible and your mother rarely cared before about any of your stupid behaviour, but you supposed as soon as your mask slipped and you fell towards lower status, she could sense it like a blood hound and she was intent on destroying you to a point in which you’d need to remodel yourself to be perfect again. 

You were grateful for her, because she knew how to shape you into someone you wanted to be. 

“And invite Juyeon if you’re taking the boat out!”

She leaves without another glance your way and you feel like nothing, but you also call Juyeon, so you suppose her harsh words and loveless demeanour worked. They worked at beating you down and you listened to her, but you couldn’t say you weren’t at least a little relieved when Juyeon didn’t pick up at first.

“What?”

Damn it. 

“You called me first.”

“And now you’re calling me back,” it felt like a game. It was constant at this point and it never felt healthy and yet you knew no better. You weren’t dumb but Juyeon had an incredible way of making you appear to be the greatest idiot. 

“My mother wants us to take the boat out,” you wait for a response, not hearing one first until there’s shuffling on the other line. 

“Just us?”

“Well, she likes you,” you add, which you knew would work well for his bruised ego. Juyeon loved being told he was liked and you knew how to feed into it well. You’d spent years learning the intricacies that made up Lee Juyeon, and you doubted that would ever fully go away. You weren’t sure if you wanted it to go at all. 

“Have you told her why I haven’t been around?”

“You could always tell her yourself. She hates me enough, you can’t make it worse,” you hear him on the other end and you hope he feels bad for you. You want him to, even if it’s just for a little moment. 

“That’s just not as fun,” he breaks your illusioned disbelief that he could be sympathetic towards you and you wish yet again for your remaining feelings to go away. 

Instead, you decide to be stupid and slip up. 

“I really loved you.”

The silence is so painfully long you could honestly throw yourself out the two story window of the view your mother had just revealed to you moments before. 

“You don’t love me anymore?”

The way you fell into his traps was so effortless. Juyeon wasn’t having to really try and yet you fell right into his hand every time without fail. You were so drawn to him and you couldn't tell for what reason. Because in truth you didn’t really see yourself as wanting a relationship with him, he was an asshole and yet you ran in circles because you somehow still liked him despite it all. 

“Juyeon…”

“Do you love me?”

He asks it again and the question is a demand for you to answer and yet it doesn’t come naturally to you the way you want it to. It feels false, maybe because you know you’re walking yourself into a trap. Yet the trap being laid out for you to see doesn’t hinder you any less from falling into it because of the reward you see in the midst of it. 

“I love you.”

“Then why don’t we celebrate?”

A yacht party was not at all what you had in mind when celebrating your pathetic attempt at clearing your image by being back on Juyeon’s side. But Juyeon had insisted and your mother had somehow overheard at some point and was practically beaming just at the prospect of Juyeon being back on one of your family boats. Her timing was masterful and you hated everything about it. 

You also hated the looks you were getting, judgement, whilst Juyeon was on the opposite end of the yacht gleaming and taking in every ounce of sympathy like it fed him. He’d so graciously forgiven you, told everyone that it was an honest mistake and that he understood you both were over, and now everyone stood at his feet as if ready to do any and all of his bidding.

It was insufferable.

“I think he likes attention more than you,” Chanhee mumbles, standing next to you now with a champagne flute between his delicate fingers and you turn to him with a frown on your face. 

“I think it’s pathetic.”

“I’d agree,” your best friend leans back a little, staring into the dark water as night time beams above you in the shape of a crescent moon, “but you go for it every time.”

“I’m not here for a lecture,” you have a sip of your drink, grimacing at the strength of it. You’d been a little too generous on the rum, even for your standards, but you need the alcohol if you’re going to get through this night out on open water. 

“Have you seen the new kids?”

Chanhee nudges you towards another direction, one that has two younger men downing a glass of something each, and being urged on to do so by Younghoon and Hyunjae. Juyeon was now talking to a girl you didn’t care to know the name of, but he occasionally glanced over too. 

“Freshmen?” 

“Mhmm, one of them is kinda cute, no?”

You give your best friend an odd look before glancing back over. They both look young, not older than twenty, playful and energetic and so full of life that you wonder when that’ll go away. You wonder when both of them will realise the world is dark and being so carefree was simply being naive. 

“Which one?”

Chanhee gestures to the one on the left, with dark hair and full lips that you’re sure has made girls jealous in the past, and if not jealous, at least more than willing to kiss him. He seemed to know it too, because something about him felt cocky and maybe even arrogant, despite his sweet playful smile and loud laugh that you could hear from this far away. 

The other, a striking blonde colour of hair that he’d definitely bleached with a sharp pointed nose that seemed surgical, making you wonder if he’d invested in a nose job as soon as he’d turned eighteen. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had, for if it was real it was almost absurdly perfect. 

“Juyeon invited them?” Chanhee shrugs, though given that neither you nor your best friend seemed to have any clue on who they were and had no influence on them showing up, you were almost certain it was Juyeon. It was near confirmed when your recent lover approached the blonde and wrapped an arm over his shoulder, ruffling through his hair playfully though you could see the roughness in his grip. 

It’d surely be blamed on boys being boys.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you say, and you can see Juyeon’s eyes meet yours as you do. He detaches from the blonde and approaches you, and god do you wish it wasn’t noticeable to everyone that he was doing so. 

“Little princess,” he leans against the railing, watching as you pour yourself more rum but in truth you are ready to down the whole bottle when he talks to you, “why’re you frowning?”

“Did you invite freshmen?”

“Who? Oh- you mean Sunwoo and Eric? I did, yeah. They’re cute, right?” 

There had to be a motive. You didn’t trust Juyeon to have pure intentions and simply so graciously bring a pair of freshmen onto a party such as this. There was no way in hell Juyeon would introduce someone into his social circle without gaining something out of it. Especially someone younger than him. 

“What’re you doing with them?”

“I’m thinking a sex party?” you laugh because it’s absurd, but Juyeon laughs too because he’s managed to humour you and it’s nice. It’s nice to laugh with someone you consider close, someone that is similar to you and that understands the importance of status and appearance. 

“Now what is it actually?”

Juyeon looks over, seeing his friends and the two in question playing around with a lighter and the not lit outdoor fireplace. At least not lit yet, given that they were clearly trying. Hyunjae was sat on the circular couch, Younghoon lying next to him, Sunwoo standing and berating Eric who was hunched over trying to light the coal, “he needs ignition.”

“I’ll go grab it for him.”

Juyeon leaves you standing there with a bad feeling. Drunk people around a fire, intoxicated people in general around live flames was a recipe for disaster. Yet you weren’t stopping it. Maybe because you knew it wouldn’t be you to fall into it. 

Chanhee had joined them, sat next to Hyunjae with his legs curled under his thighs as he held a new glass in hand, looking so delicate and regal he felt most like royalty out of all of you. He was so beautiful, it made you jealous again. It was worse, too, to know that he had naturally just formed to be this way, whilst your parents had discretely paid for your nose to be fixed, your breasts to be augmented and to have some leftover fat dissolved to appear even smaller. 

Not that you’d outright admitted it to anyone, though you were sure those who’d known you long enough, knew that a part of you simply wasn’t real anymore, because reality wasn’t pretty and you wanted to be.

Juyeon joined them a few seconds after with lighter fluid, thankfully not being too generous with how much he coated the charcoal in. At least he seemed sober, more than anyone else that was sat there, and you watched Eric attempting to light the flames again, this time successful in sparking a fire that jumped high enough to nearly hit his face, making him jump back in surprise and panic at the thought of getting burned. 

Unbelievable. 

You walked over to them and sat down at the very edge, Eric turning his attention to you with a bright smile that surprised even you. He seemed energetic and sweet, but why he was so open to you simply coming over was a strange feeling. Juyeon noticed it too, and before you realised, he’d moved to sit between you both.

“Are you jealous?” Juyeon looks at you with a forced smile, shaking his head before having more of his drink and turning his attention to you. 

“I have no reason to be,” he answers, and you suppose he’s right though just the same you wish for him to be, “I’m not the jealous type.”

It felt like a lie. Juyeon’s characteristics that made up who he was were all fairly negative and jealousy was one of them. But then he’d have ways in which he showed kindness with gentle touches and you fell into it because those touches were warm and those words were sweet. 

“Not like me, right?” 

You attempt a joke you both know to be true. You could easily get jealous, because the prospect of having romantic competition made you feel worthless, like you weren’t good enough, and so anger came naturally whenever your worth was threatened. 

“Not like you,” he has more of his drink and you drown out the conversation, watching the way your best friend cuts up two lines of cocaine with Sunwoo now, as if he’d made a quick natural friend and you’re just at the very edge being forgotten. It’s the feeling of unimportance and being replaced that bothers you, and instead you focus on the fire right in front of you. It’s enchanting and beautiful, tempting enough to fall into because it’s warm and inviting. 

It’s dangerous too and that isn’t lost on you, but you still lean a little closer, being careful to push your hair back whilst you watch the flames. You’re in a little world, one none of them are in and you honestly don’t think they ever really noticed how close you’d gotten to the fire, which ends up being the big mistake. 

You’re not sure what happens, but the flames make a crackling sound and the fire rises so incredibly close to your face, you feel the heat sting at your skin. It sends you into high alert and panic, causing you to scream and turn around just quick enough to avoid it burning your face. Unfortunately, the wind and your hair among the flames causes the strands to start burning.

“What the fuck, Eric!”

“We need to put it out!” Chanhee. That’s his voice and the only one you can make out. The others barely seem to move and you’re not sure if it’s shock or because they don’t care, but Chanhee is genuinely the only one moving at first.

You can feel the way it hurts your skin, but it all happens so fast that the pain barely registers with the way the back fabric of your dress singes. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” Chanhee, again, but then you feel another force that sends you falling forward and the sound of a fire extinguisher. 

“YOU’RE NOT MEANT TO USE THAT ON A PERSON!”

So many voices, complete panic and you barely register any of it. You feel dazed, nearly unresponsive and it’s likely the shock settling in that just leaves you numb to it. At least the fire seems to be out, given the darkness that had cast over all of you. Your skin feels cold at first, until you feel a heavy blanket over your shoulder and Juyeon crouches in front of you. 

He’s speaking to you, but you really have no idea what he’s saying. Even when he cups your cheeks, it’s completely lost on you. Nothing he says is audible and for just a brief second you wonder if maybe you’d entirely lost your hearing, though you don’t see why you would and you’d heard voices just seconds before. 

You feel him touch your hair and you’re relieved more than anything to know it’s still there at first. The very relief of knowing that makes you want to cry, but you refuse to show any of them that you were scared. 

“She needs a hospital. Turn the boat around,” you hate attention like this. When you’re vulnerable, it’s not what you want. 

“How bad is it…?” 

You sound hoarse, but Juyeon doesn’t get time to answer because Eric intervenes with panicked eyes. He looks so genuinely guilty, like a kicked puppy and you know almost immediately that deep down it was likely a genuine mistake. Though it didn’t really matter as the damage was done either way, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t think you forgive him. Even if he looks sorry, you’re more than a little upset, rightfully so, “I can’t believe you’re so fucking stupid. Who’re you trying to impress, anyway?”

It cuts him, you can tell. That childlike energy that had been there before dies the second you speak to him like he means nothing. Eric looks like he could cry and you’re certain you don’t really care but something about his eyes make you feel guilty. And you don’t do well with guilt. 

You force yourself up and away from everyone, pushing past Younghoon harshly because you can see him trying to bite down laughter. You’re near close to slapping him, but you don’t want even more unwanted attention. 

You hide away in the bathroom and no one seems to follow you first, locking the door after yourself  before stripping down to your underwear, discarding your heels and letting your feet rest bare against the tiled interior. Every bit of sound is slowly coming back, and you seem to be returning to your senses as you cast your eyes outside through the small circular window, seeing the distant city and the water break into aggressive ripples of small waves. 

You run your hands through your hair, trying to adjust the mess that it probably was before you realise that certain strands come to an abrupt harsh stop. It feels uneven, shortened and burned and that’s when you first notice the smell that becomes so sharp so suddenly that it overwhelms you. 

You open your palm up to be met with charcoals of black burnt hair that you’d broken trying to brush through it with your fingers and now you’re completely certain that you fucking hate Eric. He’d ruined your appearance, and it’s only confirmed when you look in the mirror and are met with something so ugly, you could break the glass in front of you. 

So you do. You break down and shatter the mirror because what you see disgusts you. A part of what had made you so feminine and pretty was scorched unevenly, in parts up to your shoulder, and it was so ugly and heart wrenching you could’ve thrown up just remembering what it looked like. 

It was so ugly and unattractive and the worst was knowing that everyone else had seen it before you. They had seen it, and said nothing. Juyeon had touched your strands of hair near the root and yet said nothing to indicate that a part of it was missing by the ends of where your hair usually fell.

You can’t take seeing it, and in your slightly intoxicated mind it makes you sink enough that you throw up into the toilet, hating yourself more than you ever had. It would take years to grow back the hair you’d lost, and worst was that you’d have to let go of the length that some strands still held. The ones that went unscathed and were still perfect would be lost just the same. 

It was so embarrassing. 

Your hand was bleeding, shards of broken glass between the knuckles but you made no attempt to get rid of them. You could’ve been dying and it would’ve meant nothing to you. 

A knock on the door snaps you out of your dazed mind but you don’t respond. You hope maybe they’ll go away, but then there’s another knock followed by a third in quick succession, “want a line?”

Chanhee. You laugh at the way he speaks and then you soften because he’s there, standing on the other side and looking for you. So with the little strength you can bother to conjure up, you unlock the door for him. 

“Holy shit,” it’s not you being naked that really surprises him, but rather the utter damaged state this room was in, “your parents are gonna kill you.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” you groan, watching your best friend lock the door once more before grabbing a towel and turning on the faucet, the water presumably cold. 

“I hear Juyeon’s pissed,” Chanhee starts, and it manages a smile out of you just briefly as he comes over, “Eric feels horrible, though.”

“He should,” you snarl, watching the way Chanhee grabs a pair of tweezers from his purse, disinfecting it with a wipe before grabbing your hand. 

“Should I book you a hairdresser?”

You know he’s trying to lighten the mood, but you don’t find it funny. You don’t say anything as he starts to remove some of the glass from your skin, carefully and precise as to not cause you more injury. He seems to get the hint, that you’re not in the mood for anything lighthearted, so he stops and falls silent that only you break after a few minutes. 

“I’m ugly, Chanhee.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll get a cute haircut and you’ll be perfect again.”

Even if that were to be true, you’d never be Chanhee. You felt so jealous, the more you thought of it. So much so, that you wanted to hate him. You wanted to tell him how unfair it was, that he didn’t deserve it when you did, but you would never dare to break what made you two so close. You loved him.

“I don’t want a haircut. I want my hair.”

“I know,” but he says it like you should know that it’s not an option. You do know, and it makes you want to die inside. 

Another knock and a voice you make out to be Juyeon’s, so you let Chanhee reach over and unlock the door as a familiar figure leans in with a smirk on his face. Maybe it’s seeing you sat here naked, but you turn your head away to avoid looking at him, “ambulance is here. We’ve docked.”

Chanhee finishes getting one more piece of glass out and helps you up, Juyeon handing you your dress and helping you with your shoes, touching your bare legs so carefully that it makes you feel a little shaky. He smiles, looking up at you with sweet gentle eyes that are so unlike him and once again bring in the idea of a motive to your mind, “your mothers gonna kill you for that glass, by the way.”

Everything else after the boat docked had become a blur. You had some mild burns but your now ruined dress had protected most of the flames before they were put out, so most of the marks were faint angry red shades on your back that would likely fade over time if you kept it well treated and applied an ointment to avoid scarring. You’d been grateful that it hadn’t been worse but the state you were in didn’t quite feel better.

Your hand wasn’t broken, but one of the gashes had been pretty bad unbeknownst to you and it had needed five stitches, everything being wrapped up in a bandage as you were told to rest a couple of days. 

You’d wanted to rest, but the following morning, your mother had other ideas.

“Juyeon tells me you had an accide- my god, what happened to your hair?”

“I burned it off,” came your response, feeling your blanket being ripped away from you, your bare legs being met with the cold air as you tried to adjust your shirt. 

“Why in heaven's name would you ever do that?” God, you could laugh. She clearly didn’t know you, if she ever thought you’d do such a stupid thing intentionally. 

“I’ll get it sorted,” though you’d made no attempt at making an appointment. As long as the outside world didn’t see you, you could be as ugly as you wanted. 

“You, young lady, are headed to class,” she slaps the bottom of your leg before running over to your beloved curtains, tearing them open and letting the offensive light blind you, “you’ve missed far too much already.”

“I’d rather die than go looking like this,” you mutter, earning you another slap to your skin that makes you sit up sharply and glare at her with such discontent, she must know that you hate her. 

“Should’ve made an appointment in the morning then. You can fix it later, but you’re going, now.”

There was no point in arguing. Even with a valid doctor's note, it was pointless. She’d make you go to uni and whatever you said would be entirely without point because it wasn’t valid. It didn’t matter. The best you could do was attempt to look presentable despite your singed hair and then run to your family's go to salon for help right after.

You made sure to wear something revealing. Something hopefully distracting enough so that the hair you’d tied up in a bun, wouldn’t be very noticeable. You actually thought you managed to hide it with fair success, but you had to pull out nearly every trick you knew about a tight ballerina bun to hide most of the damage. The biggest issue was the damaged strands being so short in length sometimes, that they kept falling back out and refusing to lay the way you wanted them to. 

Your mother had already left the house by the time you were ready, in a tight mini skirt and a shirt kept together by string in the middle, showing plenty of skin all the way down to your pierced navel. It was just enough to grab attention away from everything else that needed fixing. 

Getting to class made you realise just how much people talk. As if the vitriol from Juyeon humiliating you with Changmin’s name hadn’t been bad enough, now everyone seemed to know about your burns and the bandage on your hand didn’t help either. You’d overheard someone say that they thought you’d gone off the rails, making you shove your shoulder against theirs so that they fell off balance. 

But that girl hadn’t been the only one to say it. It felt like everyone was looking at you again, like this was high school and your dirty little secrets were all exposed to be mocked and tormented until you well and truly became the off the rails mess that they already claimed for you to be. The looks were horrific, but the fake sympathy in trying to speak to you was worse. 

Though you’d truly wanted to lose it when you overheard the sympathy Eric was getting. How sorry he’d been and how it had been such a horrible accident. How bad he felt, that you’d rejected his apology and been so cruel to him. That you were truly a horrible person. Even if it might’ve been true that Eric felt bad, he had hurt you, and yet no one spared any real empathy for you. No one cared. 

You had one more class for the day but a long gap in between where you’d need to find something to do, and so you settled on the park nearby with a small lunch and a coffee, having a sip before you reached for the tobacco in your bag. 

You still wouldn’t call yourself a smoker, but you could use one now and it was still practice and improvement from the absolute travesty you had rolled before. Besides, you found it peaceful, to sit there and roll a cigarette to then smoke or save for later. 

“It’s getting better,” you look up and see Changmin already with a cigarette between his lips, placing it between his fingers to move it down and away from his mouth as he exhales. He’s dressed warm, in a dark sweater and jeans with a coat over both, his eyes staring at your own as he takes you in, “you want help?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I didn’t ask if you needed it. I asked if you wanted it,” you were struggling and he could tell. Your hand still hurt from injuring it and it made rolling even more awkward, so eventually you relented and just shoved the bag of tobacco out for him to take. He sighs and sits next to you, turning his body a bit towards you as he discards his own cigarette entirely in favour of starting over. 

“Why’d you waste it?”

“Well, I figured if I offered it to you, you’d refuse it,” he was right, “I’ll roll two.”

Normally you’d be tempted to argue and fight with him using your stuff, but you have no energy and he was kind enough to share with you last time. You watch him, the way his fingers work together to roll the first cigarette, and you can’t say you’re not entranced because you are. The way he does it makes it all seem so easy. 

He seals the first cigarette with his tongue before placing it behind his ear, and you swear for the first time you saw a hint of jewellery, “do you have a piercing?”

“I have more than one,” he gets to work on the next one, looking over at you briefly as you try not to stare too obviously. You’d seen the ones on his ear but the one on his tongue had been new to you. 

“I never noticed.”

“We don’t really talk,” he hands you your cigarette and you nod in thanks, twisting it between your fingers once to inspect it before placing it between your lips. You end up fiddling with your lighter, huffing in frustration each time it refuses to light. The wind worked against you and it seemed low on lighter fluid already, but still you persisted. 

“Here,” his cigarette is lit, and he places the burning side against yours, “just inhale.”

You listen to him and the flames transfer to your cigarette when you do, thanking him again, though you’re not sure why he didn’t just offer you his lighter instead, “I had it.”

“Sure,” you both fall silent again and you must admit it’s getting a little bit annoying to have nothing to really talk about. It seems so pointless, like it holds no real purpose and yet there’s a comfort in just being sat here and clearing your head. 

“What did you do with your hand?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t heard?” you don’t believe it. Changmin might not socialise but he does hear about things. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been so wrapped up in the last one. Or maybe that one only reached him because it directly involved him. 

“Isn’t it better to hear the truth from you?” he surprises you again. You hadn’t really thought of it that way. In your eyes, people were always quick to believe what they were told from others whether or not it was the truth. Especially from those whose words held more weight simply because of who they were. And if someone like Younghoon, who you suspected, was running around telling people you were insane, they were bound to believe it without fact checking his claims at all.

“I broke a mirror,” he laughs, as if it’s amusing to hear about your screw up and you wonder if it would be worth hitting him again. 

“You really are something else, even for a rich person,” you want to know if that surprises him. If he’s as confused by you as you are by him and his strange behaviour. He seems to bite back less in sarcasm today, but he still speaks like he’s unimpressed, unphased by your violent outburst and rather finding it amusing. 

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his side profile up close. The way his glasses frame his face, how his dimples aren’t as deep but still there because he’s trying to bite back his amusement in a smile that you find pretty, even if you won’t say it. He takes another drag of his cigarette, then turns his attention back to you, though it quickly falls from your face to your hair as he gestures to it, “and this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair up.”

“You pay attention to things like that?”

 “Unintentionally, yes.”

“But you don’t notice it’s burnt?”

“Oh, no, I noticed it,” of course he did. He was probably waiting for the opportunity to tug your hairpins out so he could see the disaster that is your hair. It probably didn’t matter, really, if he saw it, but you liked the belief that you could remain beautiful, at least in someone's eyes, regardless of who they were. 

Then again, Changmin might not find you pretty at all. 

“I wasn’t meant to come today but my mother told me to. I haven’t been able to fix it,” you’re not sure why you’re honest, especially to him, but he doesn’t really say anything at first while he continues smoking, “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”

“Neither do I,” god, what an asshole. He simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut and accept it, “is it true a freshmen burned it off?”

“So you did hear about it?”

“I saw him getting coddled in the hallway. I think a girl brought him flowers,” of course she did. He gets flowers and you get to drop a couple of hundred at the hairdresser to salvage what’s left. You’re not even sure you want to go at all and be faced with the vitriol. 

“I really don’t need our family hairdresser to tell the whole community about my hair being charcoal black because of a drunk night out.” 

“You have a family hairdresser?” it’s like it’s the most absurd thing you’ve said, stranger than your hair being burnt by an open flame, or the fact that you smashed a mirror and your mother dragged you out anyway, or the countless other things, actually, that you’d said and he hadn’t really cared to comment on. 

“You focus on the wrong things.”

“And all you focus on is superficial at best,” you wonder what he considers the worst, “so you’re not going to get it fixed?”

No, you are going to get it fixed. That’s what you want to tell him, that of course you’re going to drag your ass there right after your final lesson is over. That it’ll be perfect again tomorrow and you will be perfect and you can forget all about it. Maybe you can even forgive Eric if you’re feeling extra generous, although you don’t think you will be. 

“I will. I just… have to find another hairdresser. I don’t really know how to do that.”

“Google it?” you grimace, eyeing him strangely yet he looks at you like you have three heads. Like something is seriously wrong with you and you wonder if he’s right or if he just has no concept of the real world.

“I don’t want them to say something.”

“I doubt they care,” Changmin offends you, but he says it nonchalantly and casually as he puts out his cigarette and discards the filtered end, “let me do it.”

“I’d rather die than let you touch me,” it’s a quick answer, snapping back at him with determination because you really would rather sign an early death than let him any closer than he already is just sitting here next to you. 

“But I don’t care about how ridiculous you might look,” so he admits you probably look insane. You know better than to believe that he wouldn’t laugh at you, yet you also wonder if maybe that was better than it being spoken around your closed community and bringing embarrassment to your parents for your drunk failings. They didn’t care what you did if it didn’t affect them, yet this might and therefore it became a bigger problem. 

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

“How hard can it be?”

“Absolutely not,” you think that’s the end of it, but you hadn’t known Changmin to be so determined with something such as this, for he seems persistent in making a case for himself as he turns to you fully. 

“I think you should think about it.”

“You could make it worse. You have no idea what you’re doing and you hate me too,” he doesn’t disagree with it, though he does seem to think. Perhaps another way of making his case though you really don’t know what could convince you when you had money at your fingertips to even fly halfway across the globe for someone to fix it for you. 

Which, actually, might’ve not been a bad idea. No one would know you abroad.

“I wouldn’t cut it any more than where the strands are burnt.”

“No.”

“Fine, at least let me see it.”

“Absolutely not,” he huffs like a child, watching the clouds pass while the sky dims to a depressing grey, indicating rainfall. You don’t need to be laughed at, especially by someone lesser than you.

“I have to go,” you want to ask him how his date went. You remember it now that he goes to leave. Yet you also know not to ask him. The last thing you wanted was his assumption that you might be interested in him, “you can think about it.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Suit yourself, little doll,” he leaves you alone and you simply stay sat with a frown on your face until the raindrops start falling and you’re forced to go inside. 

They had all been right. You’d lost your mind, completely, because the hairdresser you had found completely destroyed your ends even more and you refused to let yourself be seen by anyone until it was fixed. Like a dog with his tail between his legs, you drove to university without the intent of actually going to class, but rather waited like a stalker for Changmin to appear at some point, because he had to, right?

It took far longer than you’d hoped, because the first time he had appeared, there were far too many people around for you to give in to his suggestion of doing it himself, but turns out paying for it to have it done professionally hadn’t done much of a difference and had been far from worth it. 

The second time he came out, he had his nose in a book and was barely watching where he was going, and you figured it would be the perfect time to step out and talk to him. You’d still dressed up, albeit not as much as you usually might to avoid detection, when you approach him and stand right before him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head not moving up to look at you as he keeps walking. You felt ridiculous chasing him, but you grabbed his shoulder and stopped him in his steps, finally looking up to face you, “oh, it’s you.”

“What do you mean, oh?” 

“Exactly what it sounds like. What the fuck happened to your hair?” Changmin asks, seeing that you kept it out but hidden under the hood of your jacket, and he could still see the damaged parts as you’d eventually gotten up mid hair appointment to leave before she could finish and do any worse.

“Someone fucked it up, obviously. Are you stupid?”

“No, but your insults when you want something from me are a poor choice,” you cross your arms, standing straighter to look down on him, heels just tall enough to do so while he adjusts and closes his book, “so, what is it?”

“I… need your help,” fuck, that pains you. It really kicks your ego and confidence to have to ask something of him. Well, not that you had to, but you were refusing the family hairdresser even more now and if Changmin fucked up too, at least his services were free. 

“You want my help?”

“You offered it,” you bite back, but he doesn’t seem pleased. If he was taking his offer back, you felt like he should just say so, but instead he was smiling as he lit a cigarette. 

“That I did,” he was so cocky, it reminded you of Juyeon, “I guess I could give it a try.”

“You said you would.”

“I said I can do it if you’d like me to try.”

“And I’m telling you to.”

“But you should be asking me.”

“Changmin, you think I haven’t been through enough embarrassing shit because of you? You owe me this fucking favour before I break your neck with my heel.”

He stops entirely, eyeing you up and down briefly before he finally settles on your eyes again. It’s a little intimidating to have him stare at you so intently, but you refuse to show discomfort and stand your ground. He fucking owed you this and you knew that he did. He did owe it to you, at the very least for the rumour involving you and Juyeon.

“Okay, sure. But I’m driving.”

He discards his cigarette and holds out his hand for the key, and you really think he’s joking before he gives you another look telling you to hurry up. 

“Are you serious?”

“Think of it as payment,” it’s crazy to you but you ultimately agree. Curse you for not using your driver for one day, but why should you when you weren’t even planning to attend classes. It just left another witness to tell your parents that you had been faltering in the one thing they expected you to do well on. 

“I hate you,” his hands hold the key to your Mercedes and he seems content, and you watch as he steps up inside your car so carelessly that it makes you nearly cry out to tell him off.

When you get in, he leans over and places his bag down by your feet and you note that same cologne that had sat on his hoodie that you took so long ago. A creature of habit, whereas you went through various perfumes depending on the type of outfit you were wearing. 

“Can you be more careful? The interior is custom.”

“Of course it is,” he adjusts the seat and you realise what a bad idea this really was because everything he changes now, you’ll have to change back, but it was too late. He settled and reversed the car far faster than you would’ve liked, barely looking in his rearview mirror to see if he’d hit someone. 

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“It’s an automatic. Even an idiot can drive one. Exhibit A,” he looks at you and you ignore it by looking ahead before he abruptly hits the breaks because someone crosses the parking lot completely unexpectedly, “god, some people just want to die.”

“Do you even have a licence?”

The silence confirms your expected fear and you cannot believe you just put your life in his hands. You wish you could hit the brakes, but he’s turned into the main road and now you’re wondering if you’ve well and truly lost your mind. You can practically hear Chanhee’s voice berating you for the insanity that you’re currently in. 

“Where am I going, by the way?”

“I guess my house,” he sighs, and your hand instinctively falls to the wheel to pull him more to the right to avoid the left lane.

“Yeah, and where is that?”

“Oh, right. I’ll write it in the nav,” he scoffs like it’s absurd, but you’re not really in the mood to give instructions and honestly you didn’t think you’d be very good at it. You knew the way well and your mind would naturally think where to turn without saying it outloud. 

“You’re driving too fast,” at this point you’d fully accepted your potential demise, because making him pull over seemed like an almost worse idea at this point. 

“I thought it was sixty.”

“It’s fifty,” you answer him, and at least he listens and slows down, maybe because being caught meant you’d both be in horrific trouble. 

There’s no music and the silence in such close proximity isn’t exactly your idea of fun, but it’s becoming a little more familiar than you’d like to be like this with Changmin. It wasn’t that you liked him or enjoyed his company, but the way you both sat together without speaking had become a little common, at least enough that you found it to be okay. 

“This cannot be real,” he mumbles, the gates to your community closed before you hand him the keycard. He looks at it like it’s alien, but he opens the window and reaches for the keypad to open the gate, “I actually hate rich people.”

He doesn’t sound genuine, more baffled if anything as he drives in and over to your house. His eyes just widen more as he parks outside the front steps leading to the massive entrance door, but you’re more relieved that you survived driving as a passenger with someone that had no right to even take you anywhere with a car, “I was gonna say park in the garage but I suppose you can leave it.”

“I think I’m good, yeah.” 

You step out with him, taking the key back as soon as he lets it dangle between his fingers for you to take, and you walk in with him and greet one of your cleaners that seems more than a little surprised to see you with someone. Normally you might make an attempt to hide who you were with, but she was nice and didn’t speak often, especially to your parents unless it was work related, so you knew her to not be the type to say something. 

You really hoped, anyway, or you were definitely fucked. 

“Do you have scissors for cutting hair?”

“I think we do somewhere. I’ll ask someone,” though Changmin doesn’t seem to be listening, because his eyes are cast elsewhere and you notice your little ragdoll perched on the railing and looking at him with curious eyes. 

“Oh, look at this little cutie,” he approaches her carefully, holding his hand out gently but she seems more than a little excited, which you find unusual, though maybe she sensed his compliment to stroke her little ego. 

“Thought you didn’t like cats?”

“How can I not when I see this little dear, hmm?” 

She purrs in response, pushing her head up into his palm as he scratches her ear, and you nearly roll your eyes at seeing her unusual affection. She liked Chanhee, sure, but even that had taken some time, but with Changmin she’s practically on his lap within the first minute. 

“Do you have any treats for her?”

“Sure, they’re in my room. Or the kitchen.”

He follows after you, the little lady prancing after him like she’s straight out of the aristocats, elegant in how she moves and so confident in her step. Lady really is a diva.

“They’re on the desk,” you gesture over to the corner and Changmin moves over to find them, but he’s slow and looking around like he’s taking it all in. It leaves you a little vulnerable, only because the way you’ve decorated is a look inside who you are, feminine and expensive, with simple colours and beautiful plants and endless books that are overflowing on your shelf. 

“I didn’t know you read.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a pain in my ass. Here you go, darling,” he crouches down, holding out a treat for your cat while you open a window. She seems pleased, tapping his hand for more with her little paw and even you admit it’s a cute display of affection from her. 

“I’ll look for the scissors.”

Changmin doesn’t answer, busy being loved by a cat and so you leave them both while on the hunt for some scissors. In the end, you ask one of the cleaners if he’d seen any around while finishing up your parents’ bathroom and to your surprise the search is successful when you go through one of the drawers. 

You pass the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, one for Changmin too because you hadn’t asked and you were not prepared to walk back downstairs again in case he wanted some. That, and you brought a packet of gummy bears, not for you but him, and then came back upstairs to see Changmin still on the floor waving a string with a little tiger on the end that Lady was chasing relentlessly. 

“I found them,” he looks up at you and she takes the opportunity to pounce on the toy, dragging it between her claws as he tries to push against her, “I also have water.”

“Voss?”

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t that overpriced tap water?”

“Tap water tastes like blood. This is citrusy,” you hold it out to him, and he takes it despite his apprehension.

“Put a lemon in it,” he says, before adding, “and why do you know what blood tastes like?”

“Why do you not?”

He gets up while you rummage around your room, moving your chair right in front of your mirror to give you a view of what he’s doing, “I might need wine, on second thought.”

“I’m not going to ruin your hair any more than it already is,” at least he acknowledges the horrific state it was in, but you knew that, “did the hairdresser cut it that weirdly?” 

“I didn’t let her finish. Look at this,” you show him one of the butchered strands and even Changmin looks more than a little shocked that a professional had done such a horrific job.

“I’ll have to cut quite a lot. You realise that, right?”

You did. Of course you knew your once beautiful long hair would be no longer than right by your shoulder and that fucking shattered your heart and confidence, but you could not keep it like this either and magically having longer hair again wasn’t happening without a wig or extensions. 

“I won’t cut before you tell me it’s fine but a lot of it is still burnt up to about… here,” he gestures to your collarbone, though he’s careful not to touch you. Maybe he knows you won’t like it and he’s right, you wouldn’t like it, but you were surprised by his way of keeping boundaries. 

“If you manage to do this well I’ll buy your groceries for a week,” Changmin perks up, like he hadn’t expected it but they were words he was happy to hear. Almost like he needed it. 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” and now your mind wandered again, because he’d insisted he had at least some money and yet he made it sound like he was struggling just to buy some food. Though you try not to dwell on it as you grab your hairbrush to gently get the knots out of your hair.

“I really don’t want you to cut more than you need to.”

“I already told you I won't,” he’s getting frustrated, you can tell, but you want to make sure he gets it. If he didn’t listen to you, it would be so much worse and you’d be absolutely destroyed, and Changmin likely wouldn’t care because it didn’t affect him. 

“Okay, so I have a plan,” he says, and even those words cause you worry but you’re willing to hear him out before you both commit, “I’ll just cut all the long hair that’s left up until slightly above your chest and then I’ll actually be neater and more precise with what’s left to work with that’ll get rid of all the burnt hair.”

Not a terrible plan, actually. It’s not like he’d have to be neat cutting up to a certain point if it wasn’t going to stay. It would be a waste of both your time if he did it that way, “okay, we’ll try that.”

“Do you want any music?” Changmin asks you, your cat jumping up onto the bed to perch herself on the edge and watch the way you both move and speak. You wonder if she can tell you both dislike each other, or if she thinks maybe that’s a friend. It makes you curious to know how cats think, but that was a whole other thought process that you were honestly too sober to consider really having. 

“I can turn some on,” you connect your phone to your speakers, pressing the shuffle button and leaving it on one of the coffee tables you had next to the mirror full of perfumes and some accessories. 

You take a seat and place a towel that you’d gotten around your back and a little towards the front of your body, adjusting your back so it’s straight as Changmin stands behind you. You watch him in the mirror, the way he studies your hair and seems to be contemplating on how to best approach it. It makes you nervous, and once again you’re wondering when you became this insane. 

“Okay, I’ll just start cutting.”

“Okay.”

You both fall silent, though you’re left still staring at him in the way you both reflect before you amongst a few polaroids stuck on your mirror. Your heart picks up when you feel his fingers brush the back of your neck as he takes some of your hair between his fingers, but you push it away and try to focus on something else. Anything else. 

The first strands of hair fall and you feel like crying. You see the way they end up on the floor, how they lay there and you feel terrible. It feels like you’re ripping away a big piece of yourself and you didn’t wish for it to ever happen. 

“I can’t believe Eric did this to me.”

“Wasn’t it an accident?”

“I don’t care,” you snarl, crossing your arms and watching him cut away more and more pieces. For a second you wonder if he’s cut too much but he seems to know how to read your mind because he brings what’s left of it to the front of your body so that you can see its length, most of it the promised length he’d agreed on with you aside from the bit of hair that was already ruined or made shorter before he ever got to it. 

“If it helps, I think short hair might suit you,” might. Not that it would, that it might, and that really doesn’t sit well with you, because what if it doesn’t?

“Short hair isn’t pretty on women,” you tell him, but he looks entirely perplexed at your statement, as if he finds it to be absurd.

“According to who? You?”

“Everyone,” a lot of men, mostly, and some women. Juyeon didn’t like it either, you knew that. He’d told you once when one of your female acquaintances had cut her hair and he looked at her like she’d grown two heads. 

“I think some women look better with short hair,” he tells you but you don’t really buy it. Then again, you don’t really know Changmin’s type, and once again you’re reminded of his date. Maybe you could ask now, right? 

“Did your date have short hair?”

Subtle. You could laugh at yourself, laugh at how pathetic you’d become and how Changmin was often the reason for your downfall. Of course he was, and you cursed yourself for ever agreeing to kick him out of that forsaken party months ago. 

“She did not, no. Unless you consider a little over the shoulder short.”

“I do,” he sighs again and maybe you want to smile because honestly, it is a little funny at this point, how quick he is to be annoyed and how quick you are to be the same, “did it go well?”

“Do you really want to know about my dating life?”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” you lie, because honestly you were really curious to know. You wanted to know what she looked like, if she was beautiful, more so than you. 

“It was fine. Didn’t really have much chemistry,” he tells you, adjusting his glasses briefly as he dusts off some of your cut hair from your back. 

“You mean like sexually?”

“What? No. I mean in general. Chemistry isn’t just sex,” to you, it was most of it. At least you believed it to be. Good chemistry came from desire and lust, which is why you and Juyeon had worked so great when you were in love. You wanted to answer, maybe even defend yourself where he didn’t know you had to, but instead you kept your mouth shut, “I’m going to cut more now.”

“A lot?”

“I think if I play my cards right, it’ll just about be touching your shoulder,” he answers you and you agree, sighing as you adjust the way you sit again and watch him in the mirror. 

You watched the way he concentrated, how he bit his lower lip and occasionally adjusted his glasses if he leaned forward too much. He seemed so intent on doing well that it calmed you just a little. At least he would try, you assumed, and all you’d have to do in return was get his groceries. 

You were both silent for a long time, simply watching his hands move between strands of hair, trying not to tug too much or break off more hair with what was burnt. The music wasn’t overbearingly loud, and your cat was soft asleep now, sprawled out comfortably in your duvet. It was all very peaceful, strangely so. 

You came to realise even more in such silence that Changmin really was just so pretty. 

“You’re staring at me,” he tells you, not once making eye contact with you and yet he’d caught you. 

“What am I meant to look at?”

“I was only telling you.”

“Does it bother you?”

He stops, meeting your eyes in the mirror and suddenly you look away, “no, I don’t really care.”

You both fall silent again and you watch as he fixes the broken ends and frowns when it doesn’t seem to be going how he wants it to. Seeing him concentrate is a little amusing, because his nose occasionally scrunches and he lets out a little breath of air in annoyance when it just doesn’t work. 

“Did you ruin it?”

“Do you really want the truth?”

“Changmin, what the fuck did you do?” 

He laughs, and it sounds so happy and amused you turn around and hit his arm, making him jump back and hunch over even more to clutch his stomach while he chuckles. You want to know what the hell is so funny when he’s potentially done worse to you, but he doesn’t say a single word. 

“Changmin!”

“It’s nothing. I just find your lack of faith in me hilarious,” your arms cross and some of your hair falls to your face, but to your surprise it seems shockingly neat. 

“I was just going to say that I was right. Short hair suits you,” you heart lurches forward again and you’re stunned on what to say. It’s clear to you that it’s a compliment and maybe an attempt at making you feel far better, but all it manages to do at first is make you feel more vulnerable. He’s the first to see you like this and he’s not turning away from it or insulting you the way you would’ve insulted yourself. He’s kinder to yourself at this moment than you would ever be, and it doesn’t even feel forced. 

You don’t know what to say. 

“You don’t need to say that. We’re not friends,” he looks exasperated, like he’s near given up on ever being kind to you and you hope he truly stops trying. You don’t want to be friends, and while you’ll admit he’s not been as bad as you might’ve initially presumed, you would never want to speak of this after. 

“I think it’s nearly done.”

“Are you sure?” Changmin looks at you through the mirror, his eyes finding yours so quickly it makes you stop and stare back at him with strange interest. 

“Mhmm, where’s your hairbrush?” you hand it to him and he thanks you, brushing through the strands with a gentle touch you’ve never even given yourself. He’s so careful, like he truly doesn’t want to hurt you, and you’re not really sure when that became important to you but it makes you smile, “I think I should change majors.”

You know he’s teasing though his confidence leaves you curious. From what you can see, it isn’t terrible, but you have yet to see the full result and it’s scary to realise that your hair no longer reaches very far. You’re not even sure how the hell you’re going to style it when you have to have it up, or want to. In the end, maybe you would need extensions. 

“Do you have any hair oil?”

“I can’t believe you know what that is,” you get up, intentionally ignoring the mirror to stare back as you move to your bathroom, rummaging through one of the drawers before you find the serum you’re looking for, bringing it over to him, “here.”

He nods, standing in front of you and you don’t make an attempt to move. You let him reach for your hair behind your ear, bringing it forward between his delicate fingers with the oil you’d brought him, bringing it to your short ends and you simply let him. He’s never been this close to you, you don’t think, but it surprises you how it doesn’t make you grimace and want to turn away. Changmin’s in your space, but he isn’t invasive with it either, so very careful with his movements like he’s wondering when you’ll actually shrink away. 

“Done,” okay, fuck, now you’d have to look. It would either make you want to curl in on yourself or you’d be content to deal with it, even if you hated the short hair either way. You were already prepared to not like it, but you turn around and it hits you again. 

“I hate it,” Changmin’s face briefly falls, maybe with worry or just genuine upset because it sounds like an insult towards him. It’s the very first time where your heart sinks because you feel bad for making him believe he’d done something horrific when he’d helped you. He looks so genuinely pained, almost like he’s afraid that you’ll turn violent for what he’d done, and how truly sorry he looks makes you feel awful. 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, turning back to him so you can avoid the mirror, and you make an effort to look into his dark brown eyes framed by his glasses, the softness in them not going unnoticed by you. The way he looks like he’s ready to walk out with a knife in his back. 

“No, I just… I hate having my hair short,” you attempt, awkwardly reaching for his arm in an attempt to make it better, but it’s awkward for you both and so you remove your touch and look back at him instead, “I think you did great, Changmin.”

“You can be honest.”

“I am. I think it’s really neat,” which was true. He’d cut it precise and straight just along your shoulder and nothing seemed out of place. It was hard to believe he’d never done this before.

“I should get going,” there’s a voice in the back of your mind offering him to stay a little longer, but your mother could be home at any point and you knew very well that she wouldn’t like Changmin at all, even if he’d done you a favour. 

“Wait…” he stops, his jacket just pulled over one of his sleeves as he looks at you, “what about your groceries?”

“Forget it, it’s fine,” he’s upset. Something is on his mind and you want to know what it is. You don’t really believe him to be the type to be so hung up on one of your insults. He’d never been before, and some had been far worse than this, and yet he’d never been so quiet towards you. 

“No, I think I should,” you reach for your purse and while you can tell he wants to leave, he doesn’t walk out. He waits for you to gather your things and then stares at you. 

“I really don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. You cut my hair,” he looks like he wants to agree with you. Like he knows that he did and yet he doesn’t really want to acknowledge it. 

“Fine.”

It was already late in the evening when you got to the store, not realising how time had slipped away from you both while you were at home. You’d thought Changmin had been quick, but reality had been different and time had simply flown away from you. 

“This place is expensive.”

“Is it?” you shrug, never having thought of it as you step out of the car, waiting for him to follow suit though he hesitates for far longer before he finally comes out of the car, approaching you with apprehension, “does it matter? You’re not paying for it.”

Changmin huffs, nails digging into his knuckles while he stares ahead at the store in front of you. You weren’t ready to admit to him that you hadn’t done groceries in years because it was always done for you, and you were not going to admit that the corner store when you were missing some snacks was as far as shopping for food went for you. 

“I don’t need you to spend money on me.”

“I doubt I’ll notice it’s gone,” he scoffs, clearly unimpressed as he walks with you. You don’t like it, because it feels like he’s looking down at you again, like you’re lesser than him when that has never been the case. You don’t understand the issue or why it should even concern him if you’re spending your allowance on him, but for some reason it does. 

“You realise the problem with that, right?”

“What problem?”

His kind eyes are gone, replaced with the ones you know far better. The eyes that judge you, that see you as frustrating and annoying, the ones that hate you and think you’re unimportant. You hate that gaze, the way he looks at you, and yet it doesn’t go away, nor does it fade in intensity, even while you watch him grab a shopping cart and step inside because you simply refuse to do it yourself.

“What would you like?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he starts, clearly in thought before he adds, “I need cat food.”

It catches you off guard. Changmin feels selfless, in that regard. How his first thought for what he needs isn’t for him at all but rather his pet. It makes you look at him differently, even just for a moment.

“That’s at the back.”

He follows you, completely silent and now it feels awkward again. It’s almost amazing how quickly you both revert back to this. 

“What does he eat?”

“He likes tuna,” he reaches for something, a packaged box of cat food with an assortment of different flavours and you grimace. 

“Is that good for him?”

“It’s all I can afford,” he snaps back, putting it in the cart but you don’t seem pleased. If he had a cat, he should at least put in the effort to feed him well. You’d never understand pet owners who practically fed Mcdonald’s to them in jelly form. 

“I’m paying for it.”

“And I’m not changing his diet for a week or two just because it’s not on my dime,” well, you lost that argument, albeit begrudgingly because you didn’t agree with it. 

“Can I at least choose some treats for him?”

“Do whatever you want, princess,” you freeze up, briefly reminded of Juyeon and his voice and the way he calls you princess. How that’s his thing to do, not Changmin’s, nor anyone else’s. You didn’t want anyone else to call you that, yet you were so frozen in place by surprise that you couldn’t tell him to stop. Instead, you fall silent and pick something out for him that you hope he’ll like, placing it in the cart before you follow Changmin to another aisle. 

You don’t speak to him for a while, and it’s so awkward to watch him find random things, and even worse when he finds something only to put it back because the price makes him do a double take. And each time you make an attempt to offer to get it anyway or tell him it really doesn’t make a difference to you, he gives you a look of such discontent, like he wants you to keep your mouth shut and it surprises even you that you do. 

You were stubborn and weren’t one to back down, and yet you would find it so embarrassing if an argument ensued between you both in public. It was bad enough that you were both together with the potential risk of someone you knew seeing it, but even worse if you brought on that attention through your disagreements when you could’ve avoided it. 

“I think I’m done,” you look down at all the items and frown, wondering how the hell that’s meant to last a week. It makes you think again, if he really could make this last for a while or maybe he just really didn’t want to live off your dime and you’re not so sure what bothered you more. 

“Do you not eat?”

“Coming from you?”

Another insult and it leaves you angry, but you also wonder if he’d noticed. If he had, you wondered how. If he was simply attentive or watching you constantly when you weren’t looking like some creep, “I eat.”

“I’d hope so,” you want this evening to be over. It would be nice to go home and curl up in your bed, to maybe call Chanhee and hear your best friend’s voice, to maybe text Juyeon to get a goodnight that was kind and sweet, to maybe ask Hyunjae if he was planning a party any time soon so that you’d have something new to look forward to and redeem yourself and your reputation. 

“There’s nothing else you want?”

“Nope,” you look down at all he’d chosen again and it just doesn’t sit right with you, but you don’t say anything else. It’s none of your business, how he chooses to consume his meals or what his motive or intentions are in not taking advantage of you buying everything for him, but it feels like an insult to you and your money that he’s not using it properly. 

It also bothers you, how he’d seemed enthused earlier at the prospect of you getting groceries for him, how he’d even laughed while doing your hair and how when he'd smiled it even reached his eyes, only to stand here with him now and see the way his eyes seem lifeless, how his smile has faded and he seems so miserable and over being around you. 

“Fine,” is your answer, cold just like him as you both go to the check out, paying for all his things whilst he packs them up. You’re both so silent, the woman scanning all his items gives you both a look, as if she knows you’re both fighting and can feel the tension between you both. 

You don’t end up spending much at all, far less than you’d expected, and yet when you try to pay, Changmin steps up to you, “I’ll just get it.”

“No, I want to get it,” you push him away from you, but he surprises you in his strength and resistance, barely moving an inch while you try to tap your watch against the card machine. 

“I don’t want you to.”

“I said I would!” you snap and he finally stops fighting you, maybe in his shock because you’ve raised your voice publicly, but you manage to pay and the woman gives him a sympathetic look with kind eyes as if to tell him she’s sorry for your behaviour. 

It’s silent as you both go to the car but you can feel his anger radiate off him. You already know he might snap, the question is what his anger will look like. You’re not afraid of it or Changmin, because while you don’t know him well, you don’t believe he’d hurt you in frustration. But you do wonder what he’ll say, if anything at all. 

You try to ignore him by drowning it all out with music, occasionally glancing over at him though he’s on his phone not paying attention to you. It was like having a random strange man in your car, one that wouldn’t take any time to get to know who he was even with, but you supposed that was better than the alternative. 

“I don’t know your address,” you tell him eventually, realising you were just heading back to your place when you should very likely be going a whole other direction.

“Drop me anywhere. I’ll take the bus.”

“I’m already driving,” he sighs, but he doesn’t fight you either, reaching over to the touch screen in the centre of your car to find the navigational system so that he can type in his address. You knew the area by name, though you’d never done more than pass it by. When you were younger, your parents had insisted on avoiding places such as the one you were now going to, for it was full of criminal activity and rather dangerous at night. At least so they said. 

“Thank you for helping me,” it takes a lot for you to say it, so you hope at the very least he’ll realise how difficult it is for you and to appreciate that you managed to say it anyway. He doesn’t react at first, looking outside into the dark, up at the city lights and the way everything reflects, but eventually he pays attention to you again when the trees get boring and a droplet of rain falls onto the window. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah but… you didn’t laugh at me.”

“There was nothing to laugh at,” he made things difficult. It was hard to speak to him, sometimes moreso, because he just seemed so indifferent when you didn’t want him to be. You also knew him to be different, just sometimes, because you’d had little glimpses of it, and you wondered where they went when he stopped smiling. 

“Juyeon would’ve found it hilarious.”

“I’m not Juyeon,” he interrupts angrily, this time turning his head to look at you properly and it distracts you. You were near certain though you’d gotten no real confirmation that they didn’t like each other at all, and yet his instant protest made it far more evident than you’d presumed it to be. 

“You make him sound like a bad person.”

“If he would’ve laughed at you, then isn’t he?”

No. You want to say no. Juyeon was flawed but not bad. He was always so kind to you, until the moments in which he wasn’t but you knew how to ignore those for the good things you got. But then you wondered why you’d broken up at all if he was what you wanted. It was hurting your head to think about it, to think about Juyeon was always so complicated and painful, yet here you were again wondering if you could ever have him back. 

“He’s not that bad.”

“Right,” you’re not sure why you wanted him to fight with you. To tell you you’re wrong, that Juyeon was fucking terrible and destroyed every little bit of confidence within you so that he could mold it back together into the perceived beauty that he wanted. Until you were created to be only his. 

You’re not sure why you want Changmin to say it, because you know you’ll resist him anyway. 

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really. I just don’t get it. I’ll never understand wanting to be hurt by someone you think should love you,” you fall silent first. You want to defend Juyeon but you’re not sure how to do it without sounding pathetic. 

“He does love me,” Changmin doesn’t say anything else. He rolls down your car window and lights a cigarette without even asking if he can though you say nothing about it. Maybe you might normally, but you stop yourself this time because your thoughts are muddled and you’re not sure you can even really think. 

“It’s just here,” he breaks you out of your thoughts and you park just a bit down the road where there’s space, watching him get out of the car but you stay put at first. You feel a little numb, frozen even, though when he opens the trunk of the car, you finally snap out of it and follow after him. 

“You don’t need to help me,” you don’t listen to him, grabbing one of the bags before shutting the back of your car and looking at him expectantly, “you’re not coming inside.”

“Fine.”

You’re a little disappointed. Mostly because your curiosity has grown and you really want to meet his stray cat, but Changmin seems determined to keep you away from the little furball, “next time then.”

He seems as surprised as you by your words, although deep down you think you both know they’re not meant. You likely won’t ever be here again, and so the final steps to the front door of the apartment complex is all you’ll ever get a glimpse of into his life. You wonder how he lives, what it looks like, if it’s neat or cluttered, dark or bright.

You wonder if his interior reveals his interests and hobbies, or if it’s monotone and hard to decipher. You realise you wonder so much in this moment, about Changmin and who he is, what he’s really like away from what you see. But maybe what’s inside is too vulnerable for him to reveal, that he keeps it to himself because it feels safer. 

You wonder even if just for a moment, what it would be like to get to know him beyond you both standing here in the light rain.  

“Well, thank you for the groceries,” you hold the last bag out to him for him to take and he does, leaving you to stand there with no real purpose other than to look at him. 

“Yeah… of course,” you don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve forgotten how to formulate a sentence and it feels suffocating to stand here with him. You really want to leave, though not because you detest Changmin in the way you might sometimes believe, but rather because it feels so strange to just stand there with him, with no real purpose or gain out of it, “goodnight Changmin.”

He nods, reaching for his key rather awkwardly and you’d help if it didn’t mean reaching into the pocket of his jacket. You watch him struggle though he manages eventually, turning only briefly before he ultimately sighs, “I should walk you to the car.”

You want to ask why until you remember what your parents had said. Maybe they were right, that it really was unsafe and Changmin knew it too, “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care,” he puts his bags down in the hall right next to the door, letting it fall shut after him as he comes back down the steps to where you stand to begin the short journey back to your car. It’s so awkward between you both, so painfully silent and you think back to the woman at the grocery store again, the way she’d stared at you both. 

“Well, I survived the walk to my car,” you think you see a faint smile on his face, but you don’t want to comment on it in case he notices and lets it fade away again, “goodnight Changmin. For real this time.”

Changmin smiles. He genuinely smiles and his dimples show on his cheeks enough to make you want to mirror a similar upturn of your lips. It’s contagious, and he stands there as you shut the door though let your window down just a little in case he wants to say anything else to you. 

At first, you don’t think he’s going to. You think he’s going to let you leave but when you start the car, he leans his arms against the opened window and looks up at you again, carefully, as if his eyes are searching for something within your own and you wonder if your cheeks look as warm as they suddenly feel. 

“Get home safe, little doll,” you want to answer but you’re left completely stunned by him. The wave of emotions you go through in his company can’t be quite good for you. It makes you feel vulnerable and a little confused and you can do nothing to help it. It’s simply there, every single feeling is right at the surface and you can’t hide it. 

It makes you feel so exposed, enough that your words get caught in your throat and you have to simply drive away, seeing him in your rearview mirror, and you hope he gets inside and off the street if it really is as bad as you’d been told here. 

You don’t mean to do it, but after a few minutes you turn around just to check that he’d gone inside, slowing down when you don’t see him anymore, nor do you see the groceries he’d placed down just inside when he’d chosen to walk you back to your car. 

Which meant he was okay, and you could go home. 

You’re at another one of Juyeon’s parties and you’ve had a little too much to drink. You don’t know what time it is, nor are you sure on where you’re even going. It’s disorienting for you to even walk, dizzying in hallways you’re familiar with and yet you can’t make out where you are. Eventually you give up and try to roll a cigarette, but you swear you’re seeing double and can’t even imagine the state you’re in. 

Wondering if you look like a disaster, you try to see if you recognise anyone, though you’re alone aside from a couple making out not too far away from you. It bothers you a little, but you don’t want to bring their attention towards you and instead remain silently sat on the hardwood floor, beautifully dark and expensive. The music is still loud so you figure you must still be close to the main living room but you can’t be sure. 

“Little princess, I’ve been trying to find you,” Juyeon’s worried voice breaks you out of whatever daze you’re in, looking up to see him stand there in his dress shirt that clings tight to his thin waist. He’s beautiful, of course, and you become aware of the state you must look like, now that something so gorgeous is in front of you. 

What is happening to you?

“Am fine,” you mumble, wanting to close your eyes as much as you want to go outside to have a cigarette. 

“You look awful,” you know. He doesn’t need to tell you, and yet when he does it stings deep and makes you wish he hadn’t said anything at all. You wish for just a moment that he’d lie to you and tell you otherwise, in a way that makes you think that the opposite might be true. 

You want Juyeon to tell you that you’re pretty. 

“I know,” he stares at you, silently first before he crouches down to your level. Your eyes meet and his are dark but pretty, a certain glazed spark that makes you want to kiss him, but you don’t. 

“I can take you to my room,” you nod, holding your hand out to him so he can help you to your feet, and you stumble into his chest when gravity decides to not be in your favour, “when did you turn into such a drinker?”

You’re not sure, really, what had made you drink so excessively tonight, but Juyeon knew that you drank and could drink a lot so the question still takes you aback. Does he think you’ve gone off the rails? 

“Am not…” though your lack of coordination and the fact that you feel increasingly ill from being intoxicated seems to suggest otherwise. Remembering how much you’ve had would be impossible to decipher so you wouldn’t even attempt it. 

“Here… you should shower first.”

“Don’t wanna…” as if you’d trust yourself to even stand upright in the shower, but Juyeon seems just as persistent as you. 

“I’m not letting you in my bed in this state,” you scoff, thinking it’s unbelievable that his first concern would be his silken bed sheets though simultaneously you know you’d be just the same. No way you’d ever let someone this drunk on your mattress with the chance that they’d be sick. You understood perfectly, and yet it still made you angry. 

“Why’d you care so little about me?”

Juyeon doesn’t say anything first, leading you to the bathroom and you sit against the door, watching him move around without his attention ever going to you. It almost confirms the question, that he’s so indifferent and careless because you’re not worth even worrying about. 

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?”

You’re getting angry and it shows, pushing your body up with all the strength you can possibly find in your body, Juyeon catching you the moment you threaten to fall back to the floor. Even if he caught you, he seems to push your body away from him, like he doesn’t want you any closer and it kills something in you to have him act this way towards you when he’d been so sweet before. 

“Why’re you doing this?”

“You should go home. I’ll get Chanhee,” normally, he would've let you stay. Juyeon would let you stay in his bed and the fact that he isn’t even offering it makes your heart sink deep, a heavy weighted feeling in your chest that’s just equally as hollow. Your heart is breaking and he doesn’t seem to care at all, nor does he seem to care for the consequences. 

You stand completely alone, looking around the bathroom before you get a burst of energy that has you looking for any remnants of cocaine in any of his drawers. Juyeon hid it well, just in case the cleaners rummaged more than he’d requested, because he did not need anything to get back to his parents in regards to some of his more worrying behaviour. Unfortunately, you come up entirely empty and the door opens to you surrounded by a mess of his things. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Juyeon is so angry, you truly want to fear him with how he looks at you, but Chanhee and Hyunjae both stand there too, with Hyunjae even moving to block Juyeon’s body from you. You’re not sure why he does it, but to know he seems more concerned for you than the man you loved brought a new pain to your chest that really made you want to cry. He was so careless and it hurt. 

“I’ll just take her home- don’t,” Chanhee glares at Juyeon when he makes an attempt to move towards you, and you’re grateful for your best friend when he helps you back up, albeit you have no way of really focusing in on him, your vision blurry and tired. 

“Did she take anything?” Hyunjae. You think it’s Hyunjae, his voice soft and gentle, sounding entirely sober and you wonder if he’d had anything to drink at all. Usually he did, a bottle always famously in hand yet he seemed so okay now, you couldn’t imagine it. 

“Don’t know,” cold. His voice sounds so cold and careless, it’s the only thing you can focus on. You can’t pay attention to Chanhee holding your body up or the fact that Hyunjae is right in front of you. You don’t even notice.

“It’s like she’s been drugged,” Chanhee. It’s Chanhee, and he sounds more angry than Juyeon, though for an entirely different reason. He’s concerned for you, but in a tone you’re not familiar with. 

“Just get her out then.”

“She’s about to pass out, Juyeon.”

“I don’t care, Chanhee.”

Your vision is spotted and you start to think that maybe Hyunjae’s question has merit. You’d had plenty to drink but in your mind it hadn’t been enough to act like this. Yet you were so out of it, so unaware and so ready to sink back to the floor where your heart already lay in pieces. 

“I’ll carry her. Let’s just go,” you can’t make out the voice anymore. You can barely make anything out as you feel yourself being lifted up onto someone’s back. He’s warm and strong, a cologne you recognise but not familiar enough with for it to belong to Chanhee. If it’s not your best friend and it isn’t Juyeon, it had to have been Hyunjae. 

You hope it’s Hyunjae. He’s the one you’d trust the most after the two other men in the room with you. 

You don’t remember falling asleep nor do you remember waking up, but there’s a sharp cold breeze and wind blowing through your short cut hair, earrings swaying with every step of the man who’s carrying you. 

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

“I think she just needs to sleep,” you think that’s Hyunjae. You hope it is. He’s so comfortable to hold and so warm if that’s the case. 

“I can’t believe Juyeon’s such an ass he can’t even let her crash in his bed.”

“I’m gonna talk to him about that,” the voice closest to you tells your best friend. At least you presume it to be. Eventually you let your eyes reopen, nuzzling deeper against Hyunjae’s shoulder once you confirm it really is him.

“You’re awake,” your best friend looks at you with a concerned gaze that has you wanting to turn away. You don’t like that look of pity and concern for your state. You’d much rather ignore the mess you are in favour of pretending it never happened. 

“Hi pretty,” Hyunjae says, turning his head slightly to look back at you. You have to admit it’s incredibly nice to walk with them like this though you’re not sure why they didn’t just get your driver or one of their own, “we’re nearly at my place”

“Mhmm, why didn’t we uber?”

“Figured you could use the fresh air. It’s not much further,” Hyunjae answers, Chanhee walking in silence with you both. 

“You’re really sweet Hyunjae,” you feel him laugh, the vibrations in his chest reaching you and it makes you smile against him. It’s nice, the way he laughs, the way it reaches deep in his chest and sounds so low and carefree. 

“That I am, darling.”

You make it to Hyunjae’s place not long after and you’re not really sure what happens beyond that. You think you remember Chanhee asking if he could stay in the bathroom with you while you shower, just in case you fall or hurt yourself, and you do remember agreeing and even telling him to leave the door open in case Hyunjae had to come in to help. 

After that, it becomes a little more muddled, though you do get a change of clothes from Hyunjae that swallow you whole because he’d already warned you ahead of time that it was too large for him too, and then you’re curled up in the centre of his bed with both your friends on either side of you. 

You’re turned facing Chanhee, far less space between you and your best friend than you and Hyunjae, though Hyunjae had insisted on keeping a larger distance because he didn’t want you to feel weird about sharing a bed with him. He was right, it was a little weird at first to be in bed with him, but you got used to it quickly because you think he made a joke and you know you laughed and then you must’ve fallen asleep before they followed suit. 

And suddenly you didn’t mind it at all.

You swear you’d been hungover for two days after that cursed party at Juyeon’s house. When you had first woken up in Hyunjae’s bed, you’d still felt drunk, and that drunk feeling turned into being hungover with a throbbing headache and the following day it still persisted. It had persisted but you needed to catch up on a lot of studying, having put it on the back burner long enough that soon your parents would notice and say something, or worse, take your allowance from you. 

So you found yourself back at the library, overdressed to compensate and hide how absolutely shit you felt from the amount you’d had to drink, trying to find somewhere to sit. You decided to sit on a table far in the corner, away from everyone yet still within sight of the main area, opening your laptop up and grabbing one of your many notebooks and one of your textbooks. 

You think an hour goes by when you briefly leave to grab a coffee from the cafe just down the street, coming back with a warm drink and another painkiller down your throat because the headache persisted and you had at least a few more hours to study before you could tell yourself it was enough. 

It hadn’t even been a minute since you’d sat when a shadow of a person stood across from you, completely still first as if debating before he speaks, presumably towards you, “you don’t mind, right?”

You raise your head to see Changmin with a coffee from the same place you’d just been to, his hair wet from rain and his glasses a little slanted, his hoodie too large for his body and covering even his palms to imitate little paws. 

“I guess it’s fine,” he sits diagonally to you, adjusting his glasses and you just stare as he gets his books and a notebook out, full of coloured little tabs and sticky notes. It was colourful, unexpectedly so, and very messy in a way. You wondered how he learned anything like that, but maybe he had a method.

“You got home okay last week?”

It’s a question directed towards you but it takes a minute for you to process it while you were in a daze, blinking out of it and focusing on him properly again, the way his hands rest under his chin, two of his fingers twisting one of his rings. 

“Well, I’m here, right?”

He nods, having some of his coffee before he starts to write something. You think that’s all he’ll say, so you turn back to what you’re doing and try to focus on literally anything but him. He was such an easy distraction, and yet he did nothing to be that. 

“Are you hungover?” Shit.

Were you really that obvious, or was Changmin just that good at guessing? You honestly couldn’t tell, and you weren’t sure what you favoured less. 

“I look like shit, don’t I?” Changmin surprises you when he smiles, not in a way that tells you he agrees but in a way that tells you he’s amused. Like he genuinely finds it funny that that was your conclusion to his question. 

“Is that what I said?” Well, no, you supposed not, but it surely felt like it first when he’d posed the question, “you just look a little out of it.”

You were. God, you were so fucking over everything and you couldn’t fully describe or explain what was happening to you. Something was, but you couldn't control it nor did you control your feelings or outcomes of the situations you put yourself in when you didn’t need to be in them. 

“I am, yeah,” he opens the lid of his coffee, as if trying to reach the foam that normally clings to the lid of the cup like glue. You stare at him again like a bad habit, only realising after a while that neither of you are attempting to argue with the other and maybe you don’t detest him so much. 

Just maybe. 

“Juyeon’s, right? I heard about it,” you look away from him in favour of finding your coffee and having some of it before it gets too cold and bitter to taste. You’re not sure what to answer to that, not more than a nod because it feels weird to know that he wouldn’t even have been invited yet he knows that it happened and that you were there. 

“Yeah,” it sounds weak and you try to clear your throat, coughing instead as a result and turning your eyes back to the words in front of you, the mathematical equations that make you want to die the longer you look at them and the scribbles you’re trying to decipher even though you were the one to put them there. 

“You look confused.”

“I am confused,” you tell him, and he surprises you by getting up and coming over to you, hovering into your personal space before you can ask him what the hell he’s doing. He’s close but never too close, and you hope no one is watching you both or peering in to the fact that you’re being friendly. “I can solve it for you if you want,” now it’s your turn to be amused and laugh, because no way in hell is Changmin able to look at your notes with anything other than a giant question mark over his head, “What? You think I don’t know how to do mathematical analysis?”

“Honestly, no,” you confess, and he looks at you strangely before reaching over for one of his pens. 

“I can do the first one. It’ll help you figure out the second question,” you’re not sure why you agree or why you let him so easily take control of your notebook, but he does and you don’t say anything first, watching the way he writes out the equation. His motions are so fluid, the way his fingers grip the pen with confidence in what he writes. There doesn’t seem to be a single mistake as he writes, like he knows exactly how to get the answer and it amazes you. 

“I didn’t know you were smart,” you’d meant it as a genuine compliment and genuine amazement but it’s clear to you that it sounds quite backhanded, which you suppose mirrors your personality towards him more. He doesn’t flinch, ignoring you entirely before he pushes your notes back to you.

“There you go,” he gets up before you can even say thank you, and it’s the sudden absence of his presence beside you that makes you realise you didn’t mind him in your space at all. You feel like you should, that you did just recently, but his closeness to you had felt like a safe presence, not a familiarity yet and not foreign enough to make you alert to it. 

It was just sort of there. He just sort of existed with you. 

“Thank you,” you’ve never sounded so sincere with him before, not that you had ever wanted to be nor meant it, but even when he’d been kind enough to cut your hair and not fuck it up, even then you hadn’t thanked him the way you did now, even if you’d argue that that gesture was far more important to you than this.

“You really don’t need to thank me. I find it weird,” what a way to ruin it. You roll your eyes and turn back to your work instead, using his method of solving the equation to help you figure out the rest. His handwriting was a little sloppy but you could read it fairly well, though the few times you struggle you still refused to ask him to tell you outright what it meant.

“How’s your cat?”

“You don’t have to make conversation either,” he adds, but it doesn’t sound troubled or annoyed, rather a statement that you don’t have to put in effort where you don’t want to. And then you wonder why you’re putting in any effort at all so suddenly, “he’s fine. How’s yours?”

“She’s fine.” “That’s good,” he never once looks up at you and it’s starting to bother you. Are you that ugly, that he simply didn’t want to see you at all? Was there something about you that was so easy to detest that even someone like Changmin couldn’t find it in himself to be decent and meet your eyes?

It’s like he could sense your thoughts and your bitterness of his refusal to meet your eyes, because suddenly his deep brown ones were staring into your own and you found it almost overwhelming to meet his gaze. His eye contact lingered and he didn’t falter with it, and eventually the way he stared back at you became too intense and you had to look away. 

“You’re terrible with eye contact,” you were, he was right. It wasn’t very comfortable for you, and the longer someone lingered on you, the worse it got unless you were angry and intimidating someone. 

“It’s weird to stare at someone.”

“You stared at me first,” fuck, so he’d noticed it. Of course he had. You knew what it was like, to feel that stare of someone enough so that you tried to find where it was coming from. In this case, Changmin had felt it yet there hadn’t been enough people around to hide that it was you. He knew instantly, because it had been obvious. 

“I daydream.”

“How cute,” it sounds sarcastic coming from his lips. You don’t think he genuinely finds you cute. Honestly, you’d take it as an insult if he did. Cute was for animals, not for a grown woman, and so you were glad to know that for once he was mocking you.

There’s no words said between either of you for a while. You finish your coffee and he finishes his, and after a while he gets up and grabs both empty cups once he’s sure there’s nothing left in yours, “where’re you going?”

“Bin,” he leaves you alone and you’re left staring at him dumbly, watching his figure disappear behind rows of books and shelves. But then he doesn’t come back, and a few minutes turn into a quarter of an hour and you want to start looking for him. His things were still with you, including his phone, and you wonder why or when he became so trusting of you. Surely you could take it all or worse, you could ruin it, and he just had faith that you apparently wouldn’t. 

Eventually he reappears, but you only notice because another cup of coffee is suddenly right in front of your eyes, held by hands you recognise because of the jewellery adorned, and it’s only further confirmed when you look up again to see him standing there. 

“You got me a coffee?”

“Why’re you so surprised?”

Many reasons. You don’t like each other very much. His money was tight, that you knew. Or just the fact that it was the last thing you naturally expected when he’d disappeared for so long.

“How do you know what I drink?”

“Guesswork. It’s skimmed milk, too.”

Even Juyeon messed that up. He’d mess it up nearly every time and you could always taste the difference, you swore it, and yet he’d lie and say he’d gotten it right just enough for you to want to believe that maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn’t him that screwed up.

Surely it was always you. 

“I really don’t want to keep thanking you today.”

“Then just get the next one in a few hours,” you’re rendered a little speechless on the silent assumption that you’d both be here for most of the day, but you suppose he’s being fair and that it’s very likely you’ll be here for a while, still. 

“I guess,” you mumble, bringing the coffee closer to you to warm your fingers. You hold it for a while, fingers laced together before you bring the liquid to your lips to drink. It tastes exactly like you would’ve wanted it to, and briefly it makes your mind wander on how he could’ve known it so well. 

You’re back to sitting in complete silence and after a few hours go by like that, Changmin seems disinterested in his work and instead wanders off before returning with a book to read. It brings amusement to your lips, an upwards smile that you try to hide under your hand because you don’t want him to comment on it. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he ignores it. 

“Well… I suppose it’s my turn,” you mutter, reaching over for his empty cup before taking your own. He looks up at you with warm eyes, adjusting his glasses again and you start to think that it might be a habit given the repetition in which you see him do so. 

“I’ll have a cappuccino.” 

“Do you want it with the chocolate powder?”

“Yeah, just as it comes is fine,” you leave your things aside from your wallet and phone, as well as the two empty to-go cups and make your way out. It’s a strange feeling, running an errand of sorts you suppose for the both of you. And yet studying with Changmin across from you isn’t bad at all. Actually, you find it strangely peaceful, because he doesn’t bother you at all but his presence makes you feel less isolated. 

You like that he doesn’t really make an attempt at a conversation where there isn’t one to be had. 

“Here you go,” he mumbles something similar to a thank you, at least you think, his hand reaching out for you to place his coffee into. You do so, watching as he doesn’t once look up but his fingers dust over your own and it makes your heart jump to your throat because the feeling is foreign and strange but you want to welcome it. 

You don’t like that you do, huffing in frustration at yourself and your stupid mess of emotions that have been scattered ever since that forsaken incident weeks ago. Maybe you’d have to consider therapy at this point, if the mess that was your mind persisted and the results were hangovers spread over multiple days and heart palpitations because someone simply touched you. 

“Thanks,” you nod but he doesn’t seem to notice, so deeply caught up in his work that you think it might be something important, or at least incredibly interesting. He’d put the book he’d found earlier down and held his pen between his lips, fingers running through his now dry hair as he gripped the ends when he seemed frustrated.

Again, you were staring, but it was far too easy to do when he was right there and practically the only source of entertainment for your mind when your work was boring you to death. 

“Struggling?”

“I suppose,” he draws out, pen no longer between his lips so he could answer you. You want to ask him what he’s doing, what exactly he’s even majoring in because you realise you have no idea. Then again, it had never interested you enough to ask and you’re not so sure if you ever will. 

“Biochemistry,” he says outloud, presumably spoken to you. When you don’t answer, he looks up and stares right at you, “that’s what I’m studying.”

Wow, so he really was smart. 

“Willingly?”

“Surprised?”

“Maybe,” the back and forth felt a little like flirting, and yet you knew it wasn’t that. It was a back and forth simply because the conversation never really went deeper. It was quick because there was nothing else to say. 

It’s early in the evening when you decide that you've had enough. Changmin had left a few times for a cigarette, always rolling one at the table with you right there, making lazy conversation before he’d leave for a few minutes and then return. You debated asking if you could come with him just once before you remembered where you were and who you were with, so instead you sat and accepted the nicotine withdrawal. 

“I think I’m done for the day,” he looks up at you briefly before he stretches his limbs, turning his shoulder either direction to warm his muscles and rid them of the tension from being mostly sat all day. 

“That’s fair,” you start to pack up and there’s something in your mind wondering if you’d end up doing this again. You wouldn’t entirely mind it, as annoying as he is, when you simply sit with each other it’s rather nice and easy. It’s when the two of you start to speak to one another that problems arise. It’s when you realise again who he is that the calmness in your veins turns into something else. 

“You’ll take a break at some point, right?” 

“I plan to, doll,” his eyes meet yours again and you’re left staring, unsure what to make of that nickname anymore. It still bothers you and yet you perceive it as a compliment just the same, for if he calls you a doll, surely you’re delicate enough to be one?

“Don’t forget dinner,” he adds when you start to walk away from the table, and it brings you to a halt. Changmin doesn’t look up from his work, although you know that he’s aware that you’ve stopped, that you’re probably frustrated and that you want to tell him to go to hell when you let out a frustrated sigh. He has no right to tell you that, and yet the very fact that he’d brought it up at all with such casual nonchalance yet clear determined voice makes you think he might say it because he’s worried but doesn’t want to push a boundary further than he thinks he needs to. 

He wants to remind you without pressuring you into a corner.

First you think of saying something, to maybe make a comment back but for the longest time you’re left standing there with nothing coming out of your lips. You simply can’t find anything to say. 

“I’ll remember dinner when you forget to smoke,” he looks up from his textbook but you’ve already turned away from him, disappearing behind the shelfs and he’s left staring after you, a little lost before a faint smile falls back to his lips and his dimples become prominent despite just the faintness in which his lips curve. 

You’d never know that he didn’t smoke for the rest of the night, but you did have dinner before you curled up in your bed with a book and your cat sat lazily beside you. 

Changmin was starting to interest you. Not because you liked him but rather because he left you curious and a little stunned because of how strange he was. You were also wondering how or why he always managed to read you so well, it was all guess work and yet it was simply always correct just the same and you had no idea how he did it. Aside from the thought that he might be stalking you but you were always more than certain that he’d claim to have better things to do than follow you. 

You hadn’t studied with Changmin since the hours spent in the library together but you had used the few notes and solutions he gave you the next few days as you revised. It was incredibly helpful, annoyingly so and you were beginning to feel a little dumb because why couldn't you have just written this out yourself? It wasn’t difficult now that you saw the answer.

Sunday night comes around and you’re lazily hanging around in bed listening to the rain outside. You’re so bored, but there was no party to attend and nothing else to really do. Chanhee said he was too busy and you weren’t going to ask Hyunjae, even though you had his number. You considered it truly, but ultimately didn’t want to give him the wrong idea of you nor were you sure how that would look if Juyeon found out. 

Juyeon. A thorn in your side that pinched and twisted. He wouldn’t go away and you were conflicted on whether or not you wanted him to. You cared for Juyeon deeply and yet he seemed to prove the opposite in return, that you were worth the minimum if nothing at all. The final bit of evidence wasn’t even too long ago, when he left Hyunjae and Chanhee to carry you home instead of simply letting you stay in his bed to recover. 

It was starting to feel, just a little, like Changmin might be right. Maybe the bad did outweigh the good though you weren’t ready to face the consequences of that being true. You weren’t ready for any of it. You didn’t want it to be true, because if it was you would have to grieve something only you seemed to love and you really didn’t want to be faced with that reality. 

The doorbell rings and it breaks you away. It takes you a minute to realise that you’ll have to be the one to answer, as your parents are out and none of the staff remained given the late hour. You wondered why your parents still didn’t invest their money on a live-in butler, but they insisted he would attempt to steal with all the extra time given to him in which he simply stayed here. 

When you come downstairs you’re already a little annoyed. The ringing persisted and whoever it was was incredibly impatient with you getting there, so you’re already ready to yell at whoever it is but when you finally meet the gaze of who it is, you stop in your step and stare.

Juyeon. 

act iii

this chapter was meant to be longer but tumblr said no so I apologise for the cliffhanger it's not my fault and also apologise that this won't be three acts only pfff

taglist: @sanaxo-o @mosviqu @sunramzi @tbzhubrecs @caratsmatic @synnocence

again, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist 💜 comments are always appreciated

series masterlist || tbz masterlist

©️strayed-quokka, please do not steal, translate, reuse or rewrite as your own

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 7: STEPCEST Urahara Kisuke 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: Anon ➡ For your event fem reader, stepcest with Urahara Kisuke tw: mdni. STEPcest, there are no blood ties. please, if you don't like, don't read. thigh fucking. vag unprotected sex. usage of sister and brother during the act. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It’s bad. you can’t keep dreaming of him. With him. Of the things you want him to do to you.

“He is my brother” you repeat, knowing very well that he really isn’t. But to the rest of the world, he is like it. To you, even. And every night, since he moved back home, you’ve been dealing with your unacceptable needs…

Kisuke needed to come back home, he had had a serious fight with Yoruichi, and she had enough of him. In fact, you took her side, but you couldn’t let him sleep on a hotel. He can sometimes be… annoying, and a bad boyfriend. But he is not a bad person; Kisuke loses track of time when working at the lab and puts almost everything into one investigation…

Your throat feels dry. Your body sweated. It’s a hot night, summer should have left the town, but it seems to be reluctant to do so. With a silky white sleep gown, you go downstairs for a cup of water. However, you knew too well the thirst wouldn’t be satisfied this way.

Everything seems silent, Kisuke should be sleeping in the couch -or that’s what it seems to you –. But it turned it was just the sheets he never tents.

You hurry up, chugging the glass of cold water to cool your heat quickly. Yet, the moon outside catches your attention and you begin to day dream of those times where both of you were younger and met for the first time…

His father and your mother had married, and both being almost adults didn’t find it too terrible. As college represented a higher worry in your lives you simply accepted the new assembled family, discovering a high connection in between you and him. Kisuke soon left home for uni and some years after he started working at a laboratory he is now closer to preside.

And all throughout those years, and from the very first time you saw his face, you accepted loving him was off limits, even if your heart ached for him…

You sighed, with blurred eyes fixed on the argentum shine of the moon outside the window. But a pair of hands suddenly surrounded your waist from behind.

“Wha-?” you asked, scared. “Daydreaming? You look sad, (Name)-san… what happened?” Kisuke asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His messy blonde hair grazing your cheek and neck, his sweet perfume reaching you, the warmth of his embrace feeling so holy and so terrible at the same time.

You take some seconds to answer. Growing up, Kisuke has always been very physically close to you and your family members. You couldn’t say it was just because he enjoyed touching you. You couldn’t simply push him away.

“I am ok, I was just remembering old times. That’s it. You should go back to sleep… or go to sleep for once. I know you are investigating something important, but your health should matter a little bit more, Kisuke” you scold him, as you’ve always done.

“Aaaa~ah… my older sister will always do this, huh? Not even the years that have passed changed you, huh?” he jokes, hugging you so tight, pulling you so close to his body that your breathing cuts short.

Your eyes open wide, when you can clearly feel the whole entirety of his flesh against yours. From his chest on your back, to his hipbones on the small of your back.

“Wh- stop it, for real. Go to sleep. I am tired too…” you stutter; the trembling in your voice can’t be hide, the anxiety rising inside you either.

“You are clearly sad, let’s go” he chimes, turning you around and lifting you up in his arms. He is quite tall and despite not having a huge frame, he is very strong. And no matter how much you could kick and hit his back with your fists, he isn’t letting you go. Instead, Kisuke laughs happily.

When he gets to your room, he throws you on the bed. Your heart pumps faster, and you can only repeat for yourself  “he is playing, he is your brother”.

“Make some space, I won’t go away until either you tell me what is going on or you fall asleep” he says, snuggling right by your side.

You are still unable to speak and can barely blink. You fix your gaze on the ceiling of your room; a soft blueish light kisses the walls and your skins. Kisuke hugs you, and your senses intensify. The sound of your breathing, the sound of his reverberates in your mind. Your heart pumps more and more blood and all of it seems to be going to one place only; your core.

He hugs you closer, turning you to side so that your nose ends up being inches from his chest. Kisuke is someone who finds trouble with keeping basic hygiene, but tonight his skin smells deliciously tempting.

You feel your head spinning, like your soul is about to leave your body. This is not ok. This is wrong. This is bad. He is your brother… he is not.

“Kisuke… can you go sleep in the couch?” you ask, painfully. The tone in your voice holds the aching need of a beast inside you. Your hands are sweaty, you are drowning in guilt but also in lust… if you move a single muscle more, it will be to kiss him.

“Why- I even bathe. Why I can’t sleep with my older sister??” he asks, and it seems to you that he knows exactly what he is doing. Urahara Kisuke is a genius, he probably knows… in fact, he always has.

“STOP CALLING ME OLDER SISTER. I AM NOT YOUR SISTER!” You snap, pushing him away and turning around. It’s either mistreating him or ruining your family. But when did Kisuke ever cared about morals?

He comes closer, this time spooning you. His hands so shamefully passing around your waist and landing down your belly button. The warmth of his breathe reaches your nape, while his nose buries in between your hair.

“You are my sister… and I don’t care…” the scientist whispers, torturing you with his lips lingering over your skin.

It all turns bumpy, and your muscles stiffen. You need him, you want him. Your body succumbs to the most depraved lust ever existing. Your back arches just enough for your buttocks to graze his now growing hardness.

“Kisuke… don’t do this” you beg, as his hands slide down your waist towards your hips. He pulls you against his crotch, this time with no absolute delicacy, to make sure you feel he is as horny as you are.

His hardness feels sinfully exquisite, and you can’t stop yourself from moving your ass from side to side; you want him desperate, so fucking needy. You want him to be even able to feel the wetness pulling in between your legs and perhaps even dampening your inner thighs.

And oh, he notices immediately after his pants are down. Enough of the smooth player, he can’t wait to taste you no more.

Your thighs receive his warm sex right in between them, closer to your now dripping panties but not enough to touch your labia. You squeeze your legs to trap him, as his hands now free your breasts from above your night gown. Kisuke’s fingers feel wonderfully pinching your nipples.

“Should I continue, my sweet sister ~?” he asks, rejoicing in the word sister because it is as sick and depraved, and it is also turning you on more than what you could ever expect.

Oh, the guilt, what a big kink.

“Fuck me… brother” “With great pleasure”

Kisuke immediately turns you around, topping you with no shame. His hand landing on your cheek, his lips approaching yours. Crossing any line ever traced, two mouths crashing in total concupiscence; two tongues dancing in pure sin.

Your step brother pulls your panties down, as both kiss with total passion. His fingers quickly reach for your wet flower, it even surprises that you are dripping so much.

“You are so incredible wet, how needy are you?” he asks, in between lip bites. “I need you inside of me, now. Now, please” you moan, leaving any reason behind, allowing your desires to take full control of your consciousness.

Kisuke doesn’t really need to finger you nor prepare your entrance, your walls are desperately hungry to feel stretch by him. He smirks, the strings of his precum that were forming on his tip and pooling on your belly button are the sweet show of how much he needs you too.

The blonde guides his hardness to your entrance, he doesn’t even need to move further as it slides so perfectly inside. He stays, for some seconds, right by your entrance making you curl your back and turn your eyes white from pleasure. He knows, he perfectly understands how your body works and how to make you pull from the bedsheets.

And right before he goes deep, with a ram than feels like breaking you in half, your eyes fix into each other’s.

His hips begin to move, but your eyes couldn’t. There was a feeling of deep connection and also intense regret in them. But most importantly, and despite all guilt, both felt like there wasn’t a safest place than each other’s embrace.

Kisuke goes deep as much as you buck up your hips, joining your cores almost inevitably willing to melt into one. He lets himself fall on top of you, while you hug his waist to keep him trapped inside of you. Kissing desperately, breathing moaning, drinking the other’s grunts and little “nhngs” and “fucks”.

Climax coming. Climax taking over. His flesh slapping yours, both sweating but never letting go. Your nails leaving the trace of their path engraved in his pale back.

Kisuke believes is not enough deepness and pulls you up to finally sit on his lap still penetrating you. Your legs around his waist, his nesting you around. His hands pressing on the small of your back and yours on his nape.

Explosively finishing in heaven, two sinful souls that have just condemned themselves to the infinite void of hell…  

“I wanted you since the day I met you” ; “I wanted you too… but this is wrong…” “Wrong would be not doing it, sister ~”

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon 💖

[celestialtarot11]

Discussing the misconception of Pluto + more 🧘‍♀️🌟

Hi friends! A post I read talked about Pluto and its misconception in the western astrology community, and I will say I agree. I always thought of Pluto as subconsciously deep, primal, traumatic and the planet that takes away our power. The most vulnerable moments where we have just ourselves. There isn’t anything sexual about that process. There isn’t anything remotely sexual about going through circumstances that involve trauma releasing. And nothing sexy about recovery/healing from any kind of loss associated with Pluto.

It’s understandable individuals with Pluto aspects have an intensity to them, but to sexualize that and to not see beyond that intensity takes away from the true meaning of Pluto. Such individuals carry intense experiences and have roots that go deep.

Shedding light on these aspects:

Sun-Pluto individuals experience turbulence in the ego, personality, power and drive. Constantly these natives are tested, their strength and resilience especially. The native experiences situations which they feel powerless physically, mentally and emotionally.

Moon-Pluto aspects experience a loss of emotional bonding and comfort. The native struggles to connect with themselves carrying a pit of loneliness so deep, it feels like it’ll swallow them whole. Often associated with abandonment wounding, since the native feels little to no emotional permanence within themselves after a loss. Trauma taught them to disconnect from inner stability and safety.

Pluto-Venus experience power dynamic in their relationships. Protective mechanisms come up in the native to shield themselves, or they completely give themselves up to the people around them. Learned about extremes too young, and operate from one end or the other. All or nothing. Codependent as a way to keep the love in their life, even though the very same thing they love is destroying them. Chooses people who abandon them as a way to fulfill a self fulfilling prophecy, that they are not good enough and no one will love them.

Mars-Pluto has been through physical conflict of some kind. Health issues most likely. Some natives I knew encountered being in the hospital at some point. Their mind is at war and the native experienced aggression from others, and authorities failed to protect the native. Most of authority in their life wanted control over the native. The native experiences this in love as well, choosing people who are aggressive or extreme. Unless the native heals, it’s a cycle.

To know about someone sexually, their drive and behavior, look towards the Mars and Venus. Both discuss how the native experiences pleasure and loves to receive. Mars being the lust, animalistic, and primal side of the native, and Venus the sensual passionate, and compassionate side. Both planets arguably deal with our primal instincts, but Mars can be aggressive in its approach and strong, wanting to conquer, whilst Venus creates connection and is not necessarily about the self. Mars creates temptation, Venus soothes and nurtures.

Mars for men.

Venus for women.

You may wonder why then are Scorpios so sexual? It’s because they are ruled by Mars. You’re not wrong that Scorpios are sexual, but the way you look at the reason why is not inherently true. It isn’t because Pluto, the planet of subconscious trauma is making Scorpios sexual. It’s their Martian nature.

Something important to talk about is Gemini. Gemini Venus specifically, but this goes for all Gemini placements. Gemini placements are not superficial by nature, in fact seeing them only through one lenses is harmful. Gemini’s are incredibly smart, intelligent, and harbor knowledge. Ruled by Mercury, quite literally the planet of gaining knowledge efficiently, and communicating that, putting it out there. Gemini’s are observant. Knowledge is not free, you have to pay attention consistently and Gemini’s are aware of this in their true nature. Whilst Jupiter rules gaining knowledge and wisdom, Mercury denotes using it efficiently and effectively. Mercury is the way in which we teach others and we are taught to learn. Our learning style.

Gemini Venus & Gemini placements have the ability to see beyond their current circumstances, because they are agile thinkers. They know the next step intuitively, because their mind is adept to receiving and recognizing information. Gemini’s are painted as manipulative for seeing the truth and seeing beyond face value, when in reality Gemini’s understand the value of truth and perspective.

In esoteric astrology, Gemini is comfortable in Venus because Gemini knows the value of communication and the interchange of energy in love. With Gemini being ruled by Mercury, which is the way we expand our spiritual perception, it’s the beginning of exploring beyond our ego (the sun) Gemini is a process of spiritual connection, and through Gemini, we experience the soul and unconditional love. Without exploration, we’d never know what was there. So, Gemini is not a result, rather it’s the part and process to the gateway of our souls.

There is so much more to Gemini and every zodiac sign than ya’ll think! ✨🌟☀️

Moving on, associating the 8th house with sex. This house is associated with loss, grief, and trauma in traditional astrology and Vedic. It also indicates ones past life karma in Vedic astrology. It also deals with occult knowledge, spiritual insight and growth. Therefore it has no bearing sexually, as it does not relate to procreation of a child as traditional astrology intended. It’s the house of endings.

Many astrologers think the 8th house is associated with sex because they view it as a taboo act, or see it as something hidden and private.

Look to the 5th house to see sexual pleasures instead! Sex should be a reciprocal energy, not associated with loss of any kind (8h) to me, I don’t see how sex should be associated with the 8h of loss and grief.

I would love to continue this for the signs, but it would be too long to make in one post. For now, this is what I have! I appreciate any support given to this blog, and feel free to comment your feedback as it’s highly appreciated. Thank you for coming to my ted talk 🤝

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

the reason people aren’t getting Colin might be because they didn’t have flashbacks in their faces telling them exactly in big letters why he is the way he is like they did with Simon and Anthony, it was so subtle and if you aren’t focusing on him, the story or his arc or even blink at times you won’t catch it!

So here’s why he is the way he is for people in the back!

You can tell he’s always felt like he came 2nd or 3rd his entire childhood to his other siblings with Violet and Edmund, like 11th wheel of the family Anthony Edmund were like two pieces in pot and Daphne had Violet who was obsessed with her and only had eye on her, he felt like a middle child without really being the middle child!

So ofc him feeling that way in such big family and as child he developed this voice in his head that he’s not good enough and I’m sure the voice got louder and louder after his father di*ed repeating it that he’s not enough and you can tell Colin been trying to drown that voice out with things like food, traveling (the traveling was also for a way for him to be him without being Colin Bridgerton the man who’s got a family to take care of be responsible emotionally mentally and sometimes physically) to escape it and then it was just matter of time before it tuned into his hero complex and feeling like no one really loves him unless he isn’t doing something for them or trying to save them or being there for them that’s why we see him having such huge parts in his siblings lives and why he’s always there for them! You see him leave for 4 months and the second he’s back in s2 Benedict is already bombarding him with his trouble and Colin (doesn’t mind and is happy to feel needed wanted why the fact that they don’t write back to him when he writes them constantly hurts even more because hee thinking since I’m not there doing something for them they don’t care to check up on me or write me back) didn’t leave his sight until Benedict got his acceptance letter the fact even before bed he looked in on Benedict, the whole family was with Benedict while Colin was gone yet none of them was there for him or probably didn’t even notice his problems but Colin bavk for 5s did and the same happens in s1 with Daphne only he notices and helped her get in time to stop Simon Anthony from killing each other and again in s3 with Eloise how she’s been different he’s back for few hours and he already knew Eloise was different and something wasn’t right with her! He kept constantly asking her if something was bothering her and why her friendship with pen stopped, Something her family whom she shares a house with didn’t her mother sure but siblings nope!

And like Luke N said he’s clear that Colin is the bridge between all his siblings and their mother after their dads death it’s clear Anthony went to do duty stuff and Benedict who is free spirited was dealing with finding himself as the spare as the son who isn’t the heir to the title and then there’s Colin taking on the whole family responsibility being there for not only their grieving mother I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one taking food into her room as she wouldn’t eat with them and was the one checking on her as that’s something Colin does repeatedly even for people that isn’t his family the way he checks in Marina even Will after people was talking down on his bar saying he wasn’t a gentleman or such things and Penelope after the ball! So ofc Colin was the one outside his mothers room while she was crying about his father it’s very clear in how she has the strongest bond with him out of her children when her other kids never listen or are always running away from her and her advice Colin seeks out her advice and takes her out dancing to late into the night! You just don’t get they kinda mother son bond without work and childhood mother son trauma bonding is strong!

then there’s the way Colin was the one Daphne felt she could talk to because he would listen and help her and the fact Colin remembered details of the stuff Eloise talked to him about after meeting pen years ago “Penelope this and Penelope that” even remembering what they read and what they wanted to be bc Colin is the one sibling everyone goes to for their troubles sparrows joys and everything! Not just his sibling but even for Penelope and her family saving them from being ruined even helping Cressida from getting scammed so ofc he developed this people only love me if I’m doing something for them and why he couldn’t accept that Penelope loved him for him he even kept questioning it trough out the season even said 3 times “ as if I was undeserving of your love” “I will understand if you got swept up in the carriage and don’t feel the same as me now” and his “then why good am I too you and how am I meant to help you”

It’s also very clear Misses Wilson has a motherly energy towards Colin maybe she was the one who took care of Colin as he was being his mothers rock during her time of need since she couldn’t take care of him and that’s why Colin has more familiar bond with her I truly think since he was not invincible but unnoticed since he was perfect middle child who didn’t cause trouble he could notice others his mom siblings pain suffering because no one did him notice him I mean and that’s just sad😭

[velenoblu]

“What are you waiting for?”

“Shut up!”

“…Why it had to be you?”

Day 4: Superhero x Villain - Law x Ichiji

In short, superhero “Sora the warrior of the sea”-Law falls in love with Ichiji Vinsmoke, not knowing that he also has a secret identity as villain Sparking Red. Eventually Law found out but decided to continue the relationship because he can’t bring himself to leave him. Until Ichiji (during a particularly rough fight) discovers the identity of his nemesis but, heartbroken, he can’t kill him because for the first time in a very long time he found himself scared to loose someone.

For more lore (aka the whole plot that I made up in my head around the prompt)👇👇

Trafalgar Law’s life finally seemed figured out: at 26 he has a stable and fulfilling work as a surgeon in the city’s main hospital, a group of friends that care about him dearly and sometimes even some night out with an occasional date. Everything was fine, even nice, until one night a badly injured man arrives at the urgent care of the hospital claiming to be Sora the warrior of the sea, the most powerful superhero of the area. Law (a big fan of him) doesn’t initially believe him until the man gives him a strange key and an address and tells him that someone has to take his place, just to die soon after. At first Law doesn’t really think about it but after the rumors of Sora disappearance he goes at the address and with the key he unlocks Sora’s secret lair, finally understanding that the the superhero is now dead and practically shoved his duty as protector of the city to him. Law thinks “I know a lot about him ((nerd behavior)), and it can’t be to difficult to wear a suit and fight some criminals, and I can’t leave the city unprotected, no?” So he decides to take Sora’s role and, after some initial difficulties, he starts to enjoy this double life, but with the intention of finding someone more suited to the role to take his place.

At the same time he becomes a usual in a new cafe where he meets a handsome blond man elegantly dressed, with whom everyday has a little chat. With a new found confidence, brought by being a superhero generally liked by the majority of the city’s citizens, he asks him out. He is Ichiji Vinsmoke, a young and successful lawyer from a powerful family ((damn Law you hit the jackpot)). They slowly fall for each other and start an official relationship some time later. But around the same time a group of super villains returns to the city, after Sora defeated them a year ago. They are Germa 66, and mostly work as mercenaries for powerful men who don’t want to get their own hands dirty. Law of course tries to stop them, but they are more powerful than the typical robbers he had to deal with until now. Poison Pink is subtly dangerous with her poisons, Winch Green is physically strong and has a long range and Dengeki Blue’s electricity powers are particularly insidious. But the worst is the leader, Sparking Red, because not only he is the most powerful and cruel of them, but he is also very familiar. Behind the funky red hair and the dark sunglasses his voice and appearance are unmistakably the one of his boyfriend Ichiji.

Law is afflicted, at first he doesn’t accept it but the evidences are undeniable and he doesn’t know what to do: Sparking Red and Ichiji personalities are similar in some ways, but where the former taunts him and fights without holding himself back, the latter is kind and loving with him. And Law starts to understand that he really, like really loves him and can’t help but want to be stay with him. He starts to search Ichiji in Sparking Red, and Sparking Red in Ichiji, which isn’t very healthy for a relationship. And Ichiji starts to have suspicions too for his boyfriend strange habits (that he sort of recognizes for having himself a secret identity). He knows that the Sora of the present isn’t the same person of a year ago, but he doesn’t even imagine what the truth is.

So, one day they have a particular violent fight and Sora-Law looses his helmet (that hides his face), and just when Sparking Red is ready to finish him he recognizes Law. And from Law’s expression he understands that the other knew. He finds himself heartbroken in a way the didn’t know he could be. Even when he didn’t wear the suit he wasn’t a very emotional available person, but with Law was different. He thought to have finally found a sort of safe place, far from Sparking Red, the identity that his father made him grow up with for his own benefits, modifying Ichiji’s and his brothers bodies and using violence when they tried to refuse his orders for all their life. So, now that Sparking Red has the order to kill Sora, Ichiji just can’t do it. But he also feels betrayed by Law, and can’t forgive him despite loving him still (thing that he isn’t really programmed to feel in the first place).

SO, the conclusion? Very hard times for them both trying to communicate (they aren’t very good at it) and continue their roles as enemies but also as lovers. But when things start to be even more complicated for them, as Ichiji’s father discovers what is happening to his theoretically perfect son, Ichiji and Law will have to face difficult decisions to remain together and keep the city and their loved ones safe. (Spoiler at the end Judge is dead the Vinsmoke siblings are free and they stay together happy and very much in love)

I love writing detailed plots that will never be an actual fanfics, like see my vision but don’t expect a full story because I can’t actually write it.

[gabessquishytum]

Dream is searching for his helm, but this time he goes about it…a different way. And he needs Hob’s help.

See Lucifer is having their centennial birthday party and Dream can’t show up alone. It’s expected that all invited guest should bring entertainment aka a human pet.

Dream is also aware that after his humiliating capture he has to prove himself to a bunch of gods and demons who are going to be laughing at him and gossiping behind his back. He’ll need to appear strong and capable.

At first, Dream thinks about just plucking him out of his dreams and trying to convince Hob it’s actually all just a dream. But it isn’t like Dream knows any other humans who would help. And he needs help.

So he returns to Hob and actually uses his words to admit that they’re friends…and Dream needs a rather big favor.

Hob is shocked but pleased when his stranger asks him to attend a party with him and says yes, of course, whatever he wants. He doesn’t quite realize what it means to be Dream’s companion until they’re descending into hell, Hob collared and on display at his side, to sweet talk the devil into giving back his helm.

Just imagine Hob's face when Dream sits down in front of him at the New Inn and lays his cards on the table. That he wants Hob to come along and be his good little pet for the evening. That he wants Hob to slip into a leather harness and collar, a nice gold chain between his nipples and a hollow gag in his mouth. That he wants Hob’s nice hairy chest and rosy nipples on display for the whole of hell to see.

And naturally Hob says yes. It's been 133 years. He'd dance naked in the rain if his stranger asked him to. And apparently that isn't as unlikely as he'd imagined...

Dream isn't even convinced that this plan is going to work, until he actually walks into the party in hell itself. Hob turns the head of every diabolical creature in the room, and even Lucifer is definitely glancing at him. And gosh, Hob knows how to work the room. He flutters his eyelashes and nuzzles into every crotch he comes face to face with, and allows Dream to haul him around the party on the end of his pretty chain.

Within an hour, Lucifer is offering a deal. There's no need to play the oldest game, no need for anyone to get hurt. If Dream will let Lucifer have Hob - his oldest and dearest friend - for the remainder of the evening, in whatever way they choose, then Lucifer will hand over his helm.

Hob says yes, before Dream can do something stupid, like say no.

And that is how Hob ends up getting fucked in front of the assembled legions of hell, while Dream watches and seethes. Yes he's getting his helm back, but this is torture, and Lucifer obviously knows it. Because Dream has literally just realised that he wants Hob for his own, and the idea of him being touched by another... is far worse than the oldest game.

When Dream finally gets to take Hob and his helm home again, he's nearly vibrating out of his physical form. As he lays an exhausted and overworked Hob on the bed, he isn’t expecting to be pulled onto the mattress as well.

"Don't I get a reward?" He pouts. "I was so good for you..."

And Dream is devouring his mouth, before he can even blink.

[novantinuum]

Pink Onyx AU- An Analysis and Theory Post, Part 2

[Part 1] | [Part 2- You are here!] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5]

~

Welcome back, folks! This is part 2 of my analysis series on the excellent @pink-onyx-au comic made by @ceephorsshitshow. And for those who are tuning in fresh just now, please check out the first part- linked above- for more information on what these posts are all about. A lot of this analysis will build on what came previously.

We’re jumping right back into it.

__

Question Two: What is Pink Steven’s whole deal in this comic, anyways?

Fans of this comic have long pointed out the oozing pink looming at the corner of many of the earlier comic panels when Steven and Jasper are fused, and the strong resistance Steven’s own gem seems to have to being Onyx at all.

(Episode 1: Pages 17 & 18)

In some small way, even if he never states it any more bluntly than he does in the panels above, even Steven himself recognizes what’s going on. The reason their first fusion attempt doesn’t take is because half of him doesn’t want anything to do with Jasper at all.

And with the way Jasper speaks of fusion like it’s a tool to conquer, it’s not very hard to glean one of the reasons why.

(Episode 2: Page 17)

Pink Steven, probably: And That Was My Cue To Say Yikes™

So, yeah. If you’ve read the comic, you know what happens after this. Steven allows Jasper to front for a while completely unhindered, genuinely curious about what she thinks he should be using his powers for. 

(Episode 4: Page 3)

This decision isn’t inherently a wrong one- in fact, from one angle I think it shows a lot of mature openness to go to such lengths to try and understand someone you feel you don’t have much in common with. However, it IS a decision that Steven himself doesn’t seem to be in consensus over. And we know this because of how he physically responds to Jasper’s violent use of these powers, and what the speech bubble styles (there’s a lot of that scribbly pink lettering throughout this scene) can tell us about his mental state.

(Episode 3: Page 7)

Like, just look at the top set of eyes while Jasper’s taking this fused body on a destructive spin around the woods while abusing his powers. They are alert, they are pink, and they are fucking ANGRY.

Not only that, but this part of Steven almost seems to be feeling a bit vindictive towards Jasper for the harm she’s caused him in the past, because he takes a minor bit of control for just a moment to summon that damned death barrier again, in a move that feels intensely like a silent threat to me.

(Episode 3: Page 9)

Jasper confirms herself in Episode 4 that she did NOT consciously summon this barrier. So, it was Steven, then. Or at least… It was a part of Steven.

(Episode 3: Page 10)

I feel like many readers contextualize this moment as Steven’s Gem half chastising Jasper for abusing his powers, but I personally read it as him calling out Steven himself- Steven as a whole- for allowing her to have full reign when he knew deep down he was in conflict over the idea of this whole fusion to begin with. The panels with the visualization of Steven’s human half struggling to crawl his way through this gummed up, frothy pink fusion mindscape while his other half takes the reigns immediately calls to mind the shot of Jasper struggling for control in Malachite’s mindscape in the season 2 episode "Chille Tid." 

Not only that, but take a close look at human Steven’s eyes in that previous panel…

They’re dulled, not drawn with full black irises like they usually are. 

(Episode 3: Page 13)

And guess how full hybrid Steven is drawn just a few panels later, right after Pink Steven pulls away his power (“But you’re starting over just like I did!”) and Onyx splits? Those same, concerningly dulled eyes. Reminds me a lot of how he looked during both the cliffhanger of Change Your Mind and when his gem was glitching out in the movie. Given the context of the scene and the internal instability he was facing, I take this to mean that even his gem powers have briefly been nerfed, rendering him just as weak at this moment as he’d be without that gem at all. Hell, this whole page basically reads as him outright bargaining with this part of himself to summon one last panel to break Jasper’s fall.

“No. She can’t… She can’t… Please. She didn’t… didn’t… mean…”

So yeah, this episode in particular is the best glimpse we’ve gotten at the blatant opinions and feelings of this part of Steven so far… but quite frankly, I think the visual motif of the ominous pink goop oozing in at the edges of panels continues to be a powerful reminder of his constant presence. He’s watching things closely. I think the last thing he wants right now is for Steven as a whole to end up hurt by this again.

Basically, in my head, the ooze is Pink Steven’s “Mmmm don’t like that” signifier, lol.

__

Question Three: What is up with Onyx’s fusion dream?

The beginning of Episode 7 starts with Onyx caught in the middle of a strange dream.

(Episode 7: Page 1)

In my mind, this is absolutely one of those strange mixed-up fusion dreams- the subject and presentation influenced by the thoughts and memories of the individuals involved in said fusion. I think this dream is a combo of the memories from Rose that Steven can access through his gem and Jasper’s own fears/insecurities.

You have a visualization of the corruption blast, an event that Rose experienced firsthand- thus, exists as dormant memory within Steven’s gem… and then I think Jasper’s component of this is the perspective, and how it compares to her experience in being struck down by a diamond attacking from the sky in much a similar way. Only, unlike Rose… she didn’t have a shield to hide behind.

Part of me kind of wonders if the emergence of this dream means Jasper’s den is IN the same place where Rose shielded her friends from the corruption blast- since usually, these memory related dreams that Steven and his fusions have are drawn out by being in the exact locations the memories took place. It’s kinda hard to say, though. In the one shot we have of Rose facing the corruption blast, the environment looks entirely different (way flatter, not reddened + weapons on the ground) than the environment in Onyx’s dream. In fact, the environment in Onyx’s dream looks far closer to this:

The context given in the episode "A Single Pale Rose" shows that this is the Strawberry Battlefield right after the corruption blast itself. (An earlier shot shows the floating islands unique to this area.) You get the reddened soil and the weapons, like we see with what Onyx is dreaming, and the hills. 

So, I think our most likely possibilities are as follows: 

Rose defending the Crystal Gems from the corruption blast DID take place in this location, and the actual shot of her pulling up the shield is just colored a lot differently… perhaps to account for the intense glow of the Diamonds’ power.

The location visualized in Onyx’s dream is actually related to a Jasper-specific memory of the war, which is merely getting mixed up with the ambient memory of Rose seeing the corruption blast careening down at her.

No matter which of the two is true, the major crux of this dream is how it parallels Jasper’s experience of seeing Steven let loose his shattering strike from the sky. This is important, because it is yet another piece of evidence that she is truly, DEEPLY bothered by this moment, even if she often acts otherwise.

When Steven bluntly asks her why she’s not bothered by him shattering her, she deflects…

(Episode 1: Page 7) 

…completely brushing over any and all feelings she may harbor over the matter to comment on how shattering is a completely normal thing for the old eras of Gemkind. However, later on, she admits that she felt upset when a part of Steven summoned that spiked barrier again while fused as Onyx.

(Episode 4: Page 4)

This signals to me that processing this event is going to be a large part of Jasper’s arc in this comic. This is the capital ‘B’ Big Trauma that she is burying under all her false bravado and her tough exterior.

I think it is also important to note that we see a visualization of the battlefield from this dream once more, when Onyx’s own personality finally comes to the forefront for the first time. We’ll delve into this matter in the next discussion section.

__

Look out for the next post in this series at 7am PST tomorrow. Farewell!

[lady-daydream]

Our Life Headcanons/Imagine: How They Deal With Being Sick.

Cove Holden:

Due to both Cliff’s, and then retroactively, Cove’s active lifestyle as well as Cliff’s habit of cooking from scratch plus adding that they live close to the coast. Cove doesn’t get sick very often. Or if he does, he doesn’t react noticeably to it. This means that when he gets ill. It’s normally a pretty strong illness. Cove has a pretty high pain tolerance, and he is the type of person to say ‘ow’ more out of shock than out of pain when he bumped or hits something. As such aches and pains he finds more annoying than difficult. However, he hates the groggy feeling of cloudiness he gets when ill. Normally he will try and sweat it out with spicy food or exercise. But most of the people in Cove’s life normally end up suggesting, or if it is Elizabeth or Kyra it becomes pressuring him to rest. If Cove is being stubborn, they find out that booking a fun activity somewhere for when he felt better normally distracted him long enough for him to forget he shouldn’t be doing anything. He likes cuddles when he’s ill and sometimes forgets that this can cause M/C to be ill as well. So, it normally ends up with both of them getting sick at the same time.

If M/C falls ill however and he’s not sick. He doesn’t like not being able to help so isn’t great verbally at soothing further than ‘I’m sorry – I know this sucks, I’m here for you’. But he shows he cares by distracting them. Or setting up a video call if M/C is in a social mood with friends and family if they are far away so they don’t feel so lonely. He doesn’t mind giving supportive hugs and a few sneaky kisses to M/C, (Much to M/C’s protest at the risk of getting sick), but he just argues he could get sick anyway so why not get a few kisses out of it before he does. If Cliff catches ear that M/C was sick, he normally sends a check-up text, and if he is close enough to be able to do so – he will send food over. If he doesnt hear from the grape-vine, he normally ends up hearing from Cove himself since he is the first-person Cove texts if he’s uncertain if something is wrong or if something M/C does while sick is something to worry about, or if it’s just a side effect of the bug. And if M/C ever needs to go to a GP or The doctors,he never judges if M/C is stressed or scared or needed him there to support, he’s happily holding M/C hand the whole way or waiting outside even if the doctors makes him slightly anxious himself due to the accident that happened when he was younger. 

Derek Suarez:

Derek got sick a lot as a kid. Not intentionally, but due to his two brothers all going to different schools and being in different years, if one person in the household got sick. Everyone got sick. He hates being sick cause he gets fidgety and bored from the lack of energy and ability to move about or being able to do much really. But he doesn’t like seeing other people ill also. This meant he was the first to organise a group activity for Jorge and Nico if all three of them were sick to cheer them up, as well as helping his parents when he could see them slightly stressed from looking after three ill kids. This however led to Derek hiding his illness unless he physically couldn’t from his perceptive parents. So, when he is ill, he may not ask for help, feeling guilty for getting ill. However, as he got older he found his immune system was quite strong so he didn’t find himself ill often. He is always touched when M/C offers to help or look after him when he is ill, even if he takes some persuading from the people that care about him to let them help him get better. His parents like to joke that the brother must be linked because no matter how far apart, the three brothers always seem to get ill around the same time. This leads to a lot of joking phone calls trying to find out which brother is to blame for ‘getting them all sick’.

If M/C ever got ill, he is the first person to notice and is quick to offer help. From the mix of his sports experience, getting sick a lot while young, as well as suffering through rather bad growing pains after he hit 14 till turning 18, he always seems to have painkillers around as well as heating pads or hot water bottles. His strength lay in actually helping cure the sickness and its side effects. He generally isn’t that queasy around vomit, leading to him with either a bowl/bucket or if not a supportive back rub if M/C has a particularly nasty bug or illness as well as being strong enough to offer to piggyback or carry them to bed if its needed. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be the first person to offer mental and emotional support alongside it. He normally ends up joking with you throughout the whole period M/C is ill if they are in the mood to stomach it. If not, he is always happy to give hugs not caring if he gets ill, saying he’s too buff to get ill, forcing a laugh or smile from M/C with a strongman pose. If they aren’t too sensitive to light or noise, he will offer to put on whatever M/C would like to watch, if M/C doesn’t pick something and lets him decide he will pick a movie he knows M/C likes regardless, asking them questions when they seem interested above the movie in order to distract M/C into info-dumping about it. However, due to his vigilance at helping M/C, if things start looking like they are getting worse he normally ends up anxiously double-checking M/C’s temperature or making sure they are intaking enough fluids and food. He is more than willing to take M/C to a GP or the Doctors the minute things are looking bad. If M/C is stubborn he is not beyond carrying them to the car and driving them or just using bribery. He’d rather have M/C be mad at him than them getting seriously sick. But he does always follow up on his bribery so M/C, though mad, does normally end up getting whatever food or treat they want afterward.

Baxter Ward:

If there is one thing Baxter doesn’t like. It’s not being able to work. As such, he hates more than anything being sick. The problem that peoples face with Baxter being sick is that he will hide it until it’s impossible to hide it anymore. He will do anything to continue going on like normal. Tired? down some coffee or work from home. Headache? Wear some sunglasses and listen to some white noise. Sneezing or coughing? Downplay it as a simple cold or hay fever. So, M/C has to be just as sneaky. If they are snuggling and he falls asleep, M/C will test his forehead for a temperature and always carry cough sweets, hay fever tablets, and sunglasses just in case to see if he reacts. After some investigation, and a lot of downplaying on Baxter’s end, he normally comes clean and states he’s a ‘light unwell’. Then comes the next battle. This being actually looking after him. He hates feeling like Mc is ‘wasting’ their time or going out of their way. Constantly apologizing no matter how small the act is that M/C does. However, he appreciates its immensely. He feels ashamed that he isn’t able to deal with the sickness alone, arguing in his own head that adults can look after themselves. M/C reminding them that their Mum’s look after each other whenever they are ill, detailing a time M/C remembers their Mom made chicken soup, homemade orange juice for their Ma when they came home from work with tonsillitis. Normally retelling this makes Baxter chuckle, making him mutter something about ‘some orange juice might be nice, and maybe some comfort would help him get back to work quicker’. But once Baxter starts feeling comfortable and lets up his stubborn walls, he admits that he enjoys M/C comfort. M/C is more than happy to offer head massages, getting as many cold compresses as possible when he needs them, getting him food and just making sure he was taking his medication when he needed.

Meanwhile, though he ignores his own illnesses. If anyone he cares about someone. He will go above and beyond to help them. When they were younger, he would normally find out either from Cove or from knocking on M/C door to have their parents explain that M/C is ill. It would take him long to make his way to town after asking M/C parents if they need anything and picking more than enough supplies to find something to cheer them up. Normally if the illness is bad enough that the M/C cannot text or move about, he will just leave a note with the supplies. Then when they see them later on in the week, he will always ask how they are normally with M/C smiling at their cute note.

However, as Baxter got older, though he became a bit more isolated he still did check in on his co-workers. If he notices someone has been gone for a couple of days, he’ll text them a kind message to see how they are. If they are ill, he will find a small gift – either tea, coffee, or a small snack to leave on their desk with a ‘hope you are well’. If when M/C mentions they are not well, Baxter is happy to take some time off, if possible, to look after them if they would like. If M/C is unwell enough that they are stuck in bed, Baker would recall the story M/C shared about their Mum’s, and a drowsy M/C might walk into the kitchen to find Baxter shirt sleeves rolled up, a YouTube video playing at the lowest volume as to not waking M/C up, all while a tasty soup cooking on the stove.

[wolfofcelestia]

Had a daydream about Astra deciding to fuck with Zayne and allowing Dawnbreaker and the doctor to switch bodies for a day. DB Zayne would wake up to mc whispering good morning to him and kissing behind his ear and he'd probably think it was one of his painful and pesky dreams before he realizes that the bed he's in is so much more luxurious than his own, opens his eyes and starts taking in his surroundings in dr Zayne's apartment. He'd probably want to spend the whole day holding her and making love to her until she finally convinces him to go out, where he'd be blown away by the thriving Linkon city he's read so much about. Our poor doctor Zayne waking up in the squalor that is Dawnbreaker's apartment and immediately sent into despair, not knowing if he'll ever get to return to his life with mc. And when the day is done and they switch back...the agony Dawnbreaker would be in would be heart-wrenching, and the relief the doctor would feel..ugh why do I do this to myself lol. optional side plot mc becomes pregnant, and doctor Zayne can never be sure if he fathered the child, or if it was Dawnbreaker Zayne in his absence.. paternity test would come back the same either way, I'd assume

Anon out here being more brutal than me about Dawnbreaker lmao

I wonder how Zayne would feel about the kid knowing it was DB’s though. Because MC would definitely know if it wasn’t him she was sleeping with

DB may have been in Zayne’s body but the ways they love MC, both emotionally and physically, are completely different. It would definitely feel like sleeping with a whole different person

And MC just went along with that like it was no big deal sleeping with another man? Does she have feelings for him? Strong enough to betray Zayne? Is it even a betrayal? It’s him but it isn’t

If she loves Zayne, wouldn’t she love Dawnbreaker too? They are two sides of the same coin, after all. And Dawnbreaker is a living embodiment of all of Zayne’s fears, insecurities, and weaknesses. So if MC can love all of Zayne’s weaknesses in the form of Dawnbreaker, doesn’t that mean she really loves Zayne?

I think he’d love the child as his own, because on paper, it is. But he’ll always have these questions in his mind

If another Zayne were to just appear out of nowhere, would she just as easily fall in love with him? Would she love the other versions of him more? Would she leave him for another version of him?

Every time he has to cancel their date to attend to an emergency, there will always be a thought gnawing at the back of his mind:

“If there was a version of me who could give her the love she needs and deserves, she would be better off with him.”