#it's been 20 years and it's still applicable

[probablyscreamingintothevoid]

when eminem said, "fuck you with the freest of speech this divided states of embarrassment will allow me to have, fuck you" at the end of his 2002 song White America, i felt that

[frogndtoad]

ohh are there any good klezmer-ska bands you know of?

i WISH.................................. unfortunately still the kind of ska fan where i just go wow ska.... but dont actually listen to as many artists as i'd like to (ONE of these years i'll make it to the bad time records showcase at FEST. one of these years.) and am mostly the same with klezmer i just think she is lovely :]. mostly just word associating in my brain and going wow that would be neat......

cursory youtube search has shown me one (1) band called klezska that some guy has uploaded a few grainy videos of. not sure my thoughts on them yet (respect the content but i think this hava negila is too slow) but here is a video of "skava negila" for u to form ur own opinions.

[fingertipsmp3]

Just remembered I’m expecting an important phone call tomorrow

[fatkish]

Aizawa and Class 1A x Student Alchemist Reader

In this, the reader has the same tattoos as scar. The reader’s left arm deconstructs molecules and their right arm reconstructs molecules.

The reader is quirkless so they use Alchemy to even the odds and are good at combat.

The reader took the entrance exam and has similar grade to Momo. Momo and the Reader share the 1/20 place amongst their peers

The reader aced the written test and destroyed the robots by using their alchemy to disassemble them. They got 45 villain points and 45 rescue points

When the teachers were looking over the students papers, Aizawa and Nedzu were amazed and skeptical of the reader being quirkless

Aizawa didn’t believe that you were quirkless so he used his quirk on you during his quirk apprehension test. Obviously it failed and he realized your were being honest on your paperwork. Still grilled you about it

Aizawa is ever so slightly more protective and stricter on you than other students. He worries all the time so he is a little harsher on you but you know that he just wants to push you a little more

You’re currently studying both flame and medical alchemy. You tend to study with recovery girl and help her out whenever you get the chance

During All Might’s hero vs villain training you were paired with Momo (Mineta didn’t get into the hero course) against Jirou and Kaminari. You won by creating a sleeping gas and put them to sleep whilst you and Momo wore gas masks she made

Bakugou refuses to admit your strength but has a secret respect for you since you beat him by altering his sweat’s molecules so it wasn’t explosive

Izuku has so many notes on you and has asked to draw your tattoos and you even began to teach him basic alchemy, although he sucks at it

When questioning you, you told Izuku that you were quirkless which he accidentally let it slip to his friends who then let the class know

After that you explained to the class that alchemy can be performed by anyone, it just take years of study and practice to perform and understand the basic rules and applications

Some didn’t believe you so you removed your shoe to show them all your second joint in your pinky toe as proof

Some still have a hard time believing it but most of the class accepted it

Kirishima, Sero, Iida, Jirou and Uraraka think you’re (manly) incredible and ambitious for dedicating yourself to something and making yourself strong despite the odds

Ashido, Kaminari and Hagakure still don’t believe that you’re quirkless

Tokoyami and Shoji both admire your strength and perseverance in trying to become a hero despite lacking a power and having been ridiculed and criticized for your dreams

Ojiro and you train in martial arts often as a means to strengthen one another

Tsuyu and you get along just fine as you both are some of the more mature students in classs

You tend to hang out with the quiet kids like Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda

You and Momo both bond over and help each other study the molecular make up of certain items

During the USJ attack, you used your flame alchemy on the Nomu. You used your conductive gloves to create the flames and tried to roast the Nomu

You took Hatsume’s place on Midoriya’s team in the Calvary battle

You fought Iida in the first rounds and won by creating a rugged and difficult terrain to run in as a means to slow him down, then you used your alchemy to seal his engines and managed to hit him in a pressure point that immobilized him

Todoroki was amazed when you were able to beat him in the sports festival. You turned his ice into water and then changed the arrangement of the stage’s molecular structure to that of quicksand and used the ground to swallow him up, winning your match.

Bakugou was pissed off when you altered your body’s carbon to be on the outside creating a skin of diamond like armor that his explosions couldn’t beat

You got 1st place in the festival but All Might accidentally let it slip during the award ceremony that you were quirkless

You got the third most offers from pros for internships out of the class

You ended up going with Best Jeanist and had a rather good time compared to Bakugou

After the Internships were over, you had mastered your flame alchemy and used it against All Might in your practical exam

Bonus: Todoroki learned that you can’t use flame alchemy when it’s raining or if your wet and accidentally started the ‘useless when wet’ shtick.

Now Bakugou makes fun of you whenever you get your gloves wet and acts like you need protection and enjoys babying you.

[mrsshabana]

LOVE your work! If you could do a sequel for Kinktober 20 - Voyeurism, that'd be great! And take however long you'd need, I will wait however long is necessary. But I had an idea, and if you want to do however you want instead, that's fine. But if the reader found the cameras, Gyutaro obviously has access to do this, and Reader decided to have a little fun, because she's into voyeurism, too... All hot and bothered from wondering how long he's been watching her, she hatches a plan. She disables all but one camera, and leaves it angled so Gyutaro can't see anything but a message, on a piece of paper: I know who you are. Come by my room this Friday at 8 PM, or I'll report you. Gyutaro gets there, reader is in lingerie and has her own camera pointed towards the bed! (I feel like I said a lot and not enough...)

𝐕𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro is still obsessed with you and still watches you on the cameras regularly. He got lucky not getting caught for so long, but his luck has finally run out. You've found the cameras and he has no choice but to confront you. What he thinks will be the most embarrassing moment of his life will become a blessing in disguise. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, college au, voyeurism, Gyutaro is an incel and a pervert, vaginal sex, creampie ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.5k words. I have been so excited to write this, you have no idea. That kinktober entry was one of my favorites so I'm so happy you requested a sequel! ✧:･ﾟ→ Part one

The semester is finally coming to a close. It's bittersweet because Gyutaro will be relieved when finals are finally over and he can have a break, but he won't be able to see you in class anymore once they've ended. The only thing keeping him going is the secret glimpses into your private life that he has access to. The cameras.

Of course he never got rid of them, why would he? They've been up all semester and he's gotten away with it. Watching you through the cameras has become the highlight of his day and he doesn't plan to stop anytime soon.

All week he's been studying hard for finals, so much so that he hasn't had the time to watch you lately. Usually, he doesn't care too much about grades but he's slacked off so much this year that he has no choice but to do well on his exams.

So, reluctantly, he's temporarily given up his favorite pastime.

Today has been particularly rough though. Having studied all damn day and night, Gyutaro is in dire need of some stress relief. And of course, the first thing that comes to mind is the cameras.

"I guess I could spare some time," he mumbles to himself as he shoves his books to the side and pulls his laptop onto his desk.

A devilish smirk across his face as he closes out his tabs and opens the live recording application. So excited that his fingers are shaking as he double-clicks the icon.

But what welcomes him isn't the sight of you studying at your desk like he had expected. It's something quite different that makes his stomach turn.

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒. 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝐹𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝟪 𝒫𝑀 𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒.

"Fuck..." he curses under his breath, his heart beating wildly as he realizes the situation he got himself into.

Of course this happened, he was too careless. He should have known that he couldn't get away with spying on you for so long. But how did you find the cameras? And how did you figure out that he was the one who put them there?

"Goddammit, I'm screwed," he whimpers, eyes watering from a combination of guilt and frustration.

He knows he has no other choice but to confront you on Friday. Getting expelled or worse, possible criminal charges is not something that he is willing to risk.

The anxiety, stress, and guilt weigh down on him all night and he finds himself not able to fall asleep. It gets so bad that he even vomits a few times.

Tomorrow is Friday so he doesn't have to wait long to find out his fate. However, he's not sure if he should be happy to get it over with or dreading the fact that it's so soon. Either way, it will be unavoidable.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Gyutaro stands in front of your door, palms sweating as the sound of his heart pounds in his ears. Thankfully for him, his sister wasn't home so he just let himself in.

Taking a deep breath, preparing himself mentally, he hesitantly knocks on your bedroom door. It's funny how he suddenly respects your privacy yet he's been violating it for months.

"Come in," you shout from inside, far too casually for the situation. You do know it's him, don't you?

For a moment Gyutaro contemplates turning around and running out of there to avoid the inevitable embarrassment of facing you. The girl he's had a crush on for the past two years who must surely hate his guts by now. He can't live with himself knowing that you must hate him. But a small glimmer of hope and delusion within him causes his body to move on its own and open the door.

Sitting on the edge of your bed with one leg crossed over the other, you look up at him strangely with no trace of anger or hatred.

"You actually came," you say with a soft smile, standing up to face him properly.

His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps audibly, he already feels himself panicking. He knows he's the one in the wrong so he has no one to blame but himself. But seeing you in person, up close in the same room where he had watched you touch yourself numerous times, he feels overcome by emotion. All he wants is your forgiveness, and he becomes helpless before you.

You watch as this once intimidating man crumbles. The expression on his face reeks of guilt and remorse, "I-I'm so sorry Y/N..." he rasps, voice sounding more hoarse than usual. "I fucked up so bad... I kn-know there ain't nothin' I can say to fix it... but I just don't want you to hate me," he croaks, "please..."

The display can only be described as pathetic, and to say you're shocked by his actions would be an understatement. Gyutaro has always been the type of guy to do what he wants without much regard for others, especially when it came to their opinions. And to be completely honest, you half expected him to walk in here and give you a half-assed apology. But seeing him turn soft like this lights a fire within you.

Without a word, you step closer to him and begin unbuttoning your top — revealing lacy black lingerie underneath.

Gyutaro's eyes widen and he shakes his head as if trying to wake up from a dream. When that doesn't work, he squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again to ensure he sees what he thinks he's seeing. Could this possibly be real life?

By now you've finished fully unbuttoning your top, revealing your breasts to his gaze. This is the first time he hasn't seen them through a computer screen.

"What... what're you doing?" He gasps, the sight quite literally taking his breath away.

"I'm not mad at you if that was what you were thinking," you whisper seductively, looking up at him through your lashes.

Face completely red, he struggles to keep eye contact with you as his gaze keeps drifting down towards your chest.

"B-but... why?" He pants.

"Because," you press your body against him, pushing him against the door, "maybe it turned me on." Moving your hand down his body until you reach the bulge straining the front of his jeans. Gyutaro gasps, his cock twitching in response to your touch.

He's far too flustered to speak so you continue, "At first I was mad, but then I thought about everything you must have watched me do without my knowledge. And everything you must have done too," you lean closer, softly kissing his neck, "You jerk off to me, don't you?"

Gyutaro hesitantly nods, so flustered by your bold actions that he can barely manage to speak, "A-All the time..."

Pleased by his answer, you smirk in satisfaction — slowly undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, "How naughty of you. I wonder why you'd do such a thing," you playfully tease him as you begin stroking his length.

He moans softly and bites his lip, the feeling of your warm, soft hands wrapped around him makes him feel like he's in heaven. "I a-always liked you," he pants, "Ngh- I love watching you undress... ah, a-and when you touch yourself," he admits shamefully.

"Would you like to do it yourself?"

"Wh-what...?"

You giggle and slip his phone out of his pocket, walking over to your desk as you continue, "Would you like to touch me? Don't be silly, I know you want to."

Panting heavily, Gyutaro follows you like a lost puppy. Sickeningly addicted to your affection. "I would... please."

He impatiently watches as you open his phone camera and set it up on your desk, pointing directly to your bed and hitting the record button.

"There we go, so you'll have something special to watch later," you giggle to yourself then turn around to face him again.

Gyutaro stands tall before you, looming above you and looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. This intimidating man seemingly helpless to you. His aching cock a clear indicator as it stands tall, leaking clear sticky liquid as it begs for your attention. He thinks this surely must be the hardest he's ever been in his entire life because only a few seconds without your touch has caused him physical pain.

Poor thing, you kind of feel bad for him honestly. It's obvious just how much he wants this, wants you. It'd be cruel to make him wait any longer so you push him onto your bed and hastily slip out of your pants and fully remove your top. He follows suit and removes the rest of his clothing. The shame and embarrassment of his unusual body suddenly washed away by lust.

Left in nothing but your lingerie, you climb on top of Gyutaro to sit on his lap. This is everything he's dreamed about, and you're offering it to him on a silver platter. And he can't help but take what he wants.

He forcefully grabs your hips and pulls you closer, eagerly crashing his lips against yours in the process. Your lips are pillowy soft against his and taste faintly like your fruit-flavored lip balm. The taste of your lips alone threatens to make him spill between your thighs.

Your entire body heats up as you feel him slide his tongue past your lips. Obviously kissing you blindly with no experience, but you don't care. The passion behind his actions is enough to make your slick soak through your lace panties.

Gyutaro's hands move down to your butt, gripping you tightly and pushing you down against his throbbing member. He can't help but buck his hips up into your heat, seeking the warmth and wetness between your legs.

"Please, Y/N," he pants as he breaks away from the kiss, "I want you so bad... I-I've wanted you for so long."

You whimper as he breaks the kiss, "Then you can have me..."

Positioning him at your entrance, you move your panties to the side and lower down onto him. Sliding his thick cock into your tight hole, an exasperated moan leaves his lips.

Squeezing your eyes tightly, you whimper as you try to adjust to his size. The pleasure quickly overcoming him, he claws red marks into your skin as he tries to stop himself from fucking you silly like he does to his fleshlight.

Leaning his head back, he groans, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to steady his breathing and calm down. He's just so damn excited, still unable to believe that this moment is actually real.

Once you feel more accustomed to his large size you begin slowly bouncing on top of him, leaning forward and placing your hands on his shoulders for support.

With each movement of your hips, his moans intensify and it's obvious how hard he's trying not to completely fall apart right now. He always imagined how pretty you'd look beneath him, but honestly the view of having you on top of him is better than anything he's ever imagined. Your gorgeous face contorting as you use his body to pleasure yourself, not so differently from how he watched you for his own pleasure. Your angelic breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips. And not to mention the view he gets when he looks down at where you two are connected — your perfect pussy taking his cock over and over again, your shared liquids sticking to your thighs and his scrawny hips.

"F-feels so good," he gasps between moans, "So tight, so warm..." This is infinitely better than his fleshlight, so much so that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to go back. Now that he's had a taste of you he's going to be craving this pussy for eternity.

"Ah, you like it?" you moan, "Could've had it sooner if you told me how much you liked me, you pervert."

You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as you call him a pervert. he bites his lip and whimpers, "I-I'm sorry..."

"Such a creep, Gyu," you lean forward, pressing your body against his and picking up the pace, "Hiding cameras in my room so you can watch me while you jerk off. Such a bad boy~" You smirk, narrowing your eyes at him, enjoying how flustered he becomes as you call him out. It's obvious that he enjoys it by the way his blush deepens and he throbs inside of you, so ready and eager to fill you up.

"I'll m-make it up to you," he groans, tightening his grasp on your hips and thrusting up into you fervently — shoving his cock as deep inside of you as humanly possible, "gonna make you cum."

His phone gets the perfect view of him plunging into you, the wet slapping of skin and your combined moans captured perfectly on audio.

"Fuck, Gyutaro," you hold onto him tightly as he fucks you senseless, ramming into that sensitive spot deep within you, the spot that you could never properly reach with your fingers.

And that all too familiar tightness forms in your stomach, your walls begin to clench around him, and tears spill from your eyes. "G-Gyutaro! I'm-I'm-!!" You gasp and howl at the top of your lungs, trying to speak but your orgasm cuts you off halfway through your sentence. Hitting you harder than it ever has before, your entire body is left shaking as your slick pools in the dips of his hips. Gummy walls spasming around him, begging him to spill inside of you.

He tries his best to control himself but at this point, it's beyond his control and your pussy milks him before he can do anything about it. And he's left spilling inside of you. Feeling each spurt of his hot seed splashing against your cervix, it only intensifies the tremors of your orgasm. Gyutaro's chest heaves and he quite literally wails as he fills you up, holding your hips down so tightly that surely you'll wake up with hand-shaped bruises in the morning.

Post-orgasmic bliss washes over the two of you simultaneously, rendering you unresponsive for a few minutes as you lay your head on his chest. Even the feeling of his semen seeping out of you, rolling down your thighs, and pooling on the bed sheets isn't enough to snap you out of it.

Gyutaro holds you close to him, panting as his sweat sticks his unruly hair to his forehead. But he doesn't care about the disheveled mess he's become; on cloud nine because he got to cum inside of his crush. Adrenaline still coursing through him, keeping him still erect inside of you.

After a few minutes, you open your eyes and begin to lazily trace your fingers along the edge of the birthmark on his bicep. "You'll send me that video, won't you?" You whisper.

"Y-yeah," he sighs in content, "sure thing." He gently slides out of you and moves you to the side, laying you down on the bed. You watch as he gets up to retrieve his phone. He stops the recording and immediately sends it over to you.

"Come here," you pat the spot beside you, "let's make another one from a different angle."

[diminuel]

Crocodad analysis~

I've finished my reread of Impel Down and Marineford and spent most of today typing up this Crocodile analysis applying Crocodad theory ;3

Under the cut I went through Iva's threats, what info we have on when they met and what Iva might have done for him, then I go on to track Crocodile across the battlefield of Marineford. It's just text, no images, but it does have the chapters mentioned so you can go check it out.

I tried to structure these 3000 words a bit but don’t expect a clean essay.

Also, there is nothing new under the sun, I'm sure all of his has been said before by Crocodad scholars, I'm just sorting through it for myself.

(Disclaimer: I read an English scanlation so there’s a chance that there is a mistranslation or missing nuance.)

Iva’s powers

I'm generally someone who likes to work within the parameters provided by canon. But in terms of Iva's power I have been letting fandom (which displays an interest in a more real world depiction of transitioning) guide me more than canon. But Iva’s powers are not a reflection of the real world (other than maybe wishes that it could be so easy), neither do they even try to be.

Iva says that they can rework a person from the "inside out" (chapter 538) and there doesn't seem to be much of a limit to what they can do to someone’s body, apart from the cost of the healing powers.

If we go with the idea that Iva used their powers on Crocodile, it's likely that it would have been an instant effect. Therefore, the potential switch from female to male would have been complete and it would have been a one time application of Iva’s powers. Since we know what Crocodile looked like as a child, we know that they did not completely change his appearance.

The blackmail

When Luffy protests the suggestion that they free Crocodile, Iva says that they knew Crocodile “a little (…) back when you could still call him a rookie” (chapter 540) and that they are aware of one of Crocodile’s weaknesses which they will use against him/ reveal if he betrays them. Let’s first look at this secret weakness.

Since I have seen it mentioned before, I checked out the vivre card information that has been provided by thelibraryofohara (https://thelibraryofohara.com/2019/01/12/vivre-card-databook-vol-5-all-the-new-information/) in the January 2019 card releases. I quote:

“[Crocodile]’s got a “weakness” when it comes to his past that he can’t oppose. He definitely owes something that Ivankov gave him.”

I don’t know if the word choice is a matter of translation but it is rather ambiguous. That weakness is in quotation implies that it is most likely not an actual physical weakness like his weakness to water. Instead, it might be comparable to how Dragon calls Luffy his weakness. Additionally, what does “oppose” mean in the context of a weakness? Does it mean that if Iva revealed it, he would have no chance to refute it. Does it mean that the weakness is of such a nature that Crocodile would do what he can to avoid Iva from saying it? Maybe both? Considering the context the threat was uttered in, this would mean that he will not betray Iva and Luffy’s interests. (Which he doesn’t. When he goes off to attack WB and Luffy stops him, he calmly states that they had an arrangement (chapter 557). While Luffy forbids him from touching WB, Iva doesn’t threaten him into obedience, so Crocodile does pursue his attack on WB once Luffy is gone.)

Continuing with the vivre card quote, there’s also the fact that Crocodile owes something that Iva gave him – which can either mean that Iva gave him something that he’ll have to give back or that Crocodile has something that he only has thanks to Iva. I assume it’s the latter. What could Iva possibly have to give to Crocodile more than 20 years ago that Crocodile doesn’t want to be known (and can expect not to be known unless Iva shares it)? And, maybe more importantly, is it something that Iva can take back?

I am going to say yes, a reveal of the secret might as well come with Iva taking back what he has given Crocodile. Considering that Crocodile in prison has pretty much nothing but his hook, we can assume that what Iva gave this young pirate just starting out, was something to do with their powers. A change to his body in one way or another which of course means that Iva can undo it, revealing things about Crocodile that he doesn’t want to be known.

Considering what we’ve seen Iva’s power do, it does not take a big stretch of the imagination to wonder if he might have been a girl in the past. There’s of course the option that Crocodile has always been a boy, aware of his transness from the beginning. But even if that wasn’t the case, there are other reasons to want to change. The seas of One Piece are tricky to navigate and while there are successful female pirates, we have also been shown certain limitations and prejudices. How was it nearly 30 years ago, when Crocodile was just starting out? When there were pirates such as WB who would not have women on his crew? What did other men’s limited faith in a girl’s capabilities do to a teenager who wanted to chase her dreams? But that’s another layer of speculation. Let’s just assume that Iva gave Crocodile the body he now has.

Timeline

The complete female to male switch makes sense with Iva’s skills as I’ve mentioned above, but the timing is arguably tricky for Crocodad purposes. To repeat: Iva knew Crocodile “a little (…) back when you could still call him a rookie” (chapter 540). It’s unclear to me whether Iva’s comment that they know Crocodile “a little” is meant to be taken as an understatement and they do know each other well or if we should take it at face value. But even the offered time “when you could still call him a rookie” is very vague.

If they only knew each other when Crocodile was a rookie, then Iva would most likely have used their powers on Crocodile back then, turning him before he had properly ended up on the marine’s radar and before he could have had Luffy. What exactly counts as Crocodile’s rookie years isn’t particularly clear. At this point in the manga we do not know anything about Crocodile – his age, how long he’s been a Warlord, when he used to be a rookie, etc. However, we do know now that he became a Warlord in his 20s and challenged Whitebeard and lost to him shortly after (SBS, Volume 78). So his rookie years must refer to the time before that where “similar to Luffy (…) Crocodile's name spread across the seas with incredible momentum.” (SBS, Volume 78) It’s possible that at that time, due to the vastness of the ocean and the slower spread of news, people in general did not know what he looked like (even 30 years on it took a while for all the Strawhat crewmembers to get recognizable bounty posters). Due to that it’s possible that the meeting with Iva could have taken place during the time that he was gaining fame, but before he really got on he marine’s radar enough to make him a Warlord in his early 20s.

Interestingly (for me), around the same time as Crocodile’s was starting out, Iva and Dragon gained notoriety with their Freedom Fighter group (according to the Wiki’s timeline, it became the Revolutionary Army after the Ohara Incident, when Crocodile was 24), so it is likely that when Iva and Crocodile knew each other, Crocodile also met Dragon. (He might even have been part of the Freedom Fighters, but I think if his name was spread across the sea in connection to the Freedom Fighters, a link between Crocodile, Iva and Dragon would have been mentioned or taken into consideration by Sengoku. Sengoku did know of the history between Crocodile and WB and thought it would work in their favor. If he knew about a potential connection between Crocodile and Luffy – via Iva and Dragon – he would have been more wary I assume.)

As an aside, how did they even meet? Did Crocodile hear about Iva’s powers and seek them out? Was their meeting purely by chance and Crocodile seized the moment?

Long story short, if Iva only knew Crocodile while he was still a rookie and used their powers on him then, it would have been years before Luffy was conceived.

However! One could argue that Iva did not have the same control over their powers 20 years ago as they do now, so that the change was mostly external, affecting how Crocodile presented without changing him “inside out.” Which would still have meant that he could get pregnant if Dragon and Crocodile continued seeing each other (or at least saw each other one more time, 19 years ago.)

Now, since Crocodile at Marineford is somewhat of a part 2 of the Crocodile theories, I kept my Crocodad goggles on.

A look of Crocodile’s movement across the battlefield

One of the main arguments for Crocodad are his actions on the battlefield. Judged by the reactions of the other characters, all of Crocodile’s actions on the battle field of Marineford apart from his attack on WB are surprising.

The reason we are given by Crocodile for joining the prison break is that he wants to take Whitebeard’s head. (Crocodile could have escaped from the holding prison, but chose to go to Impel Down instead. However, Iva claims in chapter 538 that Crocodile isn’t too happy about ending up in level six.)

We know from the above mentioned SBS that Crocodile challenged WB shortly after he received his Warlord title. During this battle Crocodile was “completely and utterly crushed by him.” Whether that defeat is the main motivation to challenge him is unclear.

Just like he announced, the first thing that Crocodile does after posing for a group shot, is to go straight for Whitebeard’s head.

So far so predictable.

What are often seen as hints for Crocodad is a series of events that go like this: Dragon is revealed to be Luffy’s father (chapter 558). Everybody and their pet clown gets to have a reaction shot to that, but Crocodile does not. Crocodile is one of the first after Luffy to charge into the plaza after they’ve got the siege walls up and stops Ace’s execution (chapter 566.) He orders Daz to protect Luffy and one Daz is down he himself stops Mihawk from attacking Luffy (chapter 570). After Ace’s death he steps in between Akainu and Jinbei, making Luffy’s escape possible (chapter 578). He eventually joins a line of Whitebeard pirates to protect Luffy.

Now, Crocodile’s change of plans doesn’t present as an instant switch the moment Sengoku announces who Luffy’s father is. While he might have had an off-screen “oh shit, that’s my baby” reaction, it didn’t immediately make him drop everything to protect him.

I do of course believe that Luffy IS his baby because I find joy in that, but I generally see Crocodile as a pragmatic character. On one hand there is Luffy, a reckless but resilient kid that shares his blood (that he spilled and Luffy used against him) that is charging across a battlefield with a group of people protecting him. On the other hand here is Whitebeard right in front of him and other than the baby that has slipped out of his fingers, he held on to that grudge for 20 years.

Tracking Crocodile across the battlefield leaves plenty of gaps, but it still offers insights into why he changes direction. I’m presenting it here and then we can think if this hurts or helps the Crocodad agenda.

Tracking Crocodile

As mentioned the first thing we see him do on the battle field is to go for Whitebeard who is on the ship next to them. Luffy stops him and then he is approached by Whitebeard pirates, their weapons drawn. Luffy then leaves and takes the point of view away with him. When we see Crocodile again, two chapters after the reveal that Luffy is Dragon’s son, he is on the ice in front of Whitebeard’s ship. He must have been pushed back or retreated to join up with Daz, as they are fighting off masses of WB pirates, trying to get closer to the man himself. After he sends a lot of them flying with a sandstorm he is stopped by Yozu. The force of the attack makes him fly back (he is injured and loses his cigar) where he lands right next to Doflamingo. The man is of course not passing up the opportunity to be chaotic – he stops Yozu and asks Crocodile to join up with him which Crocodile rejects (chapter 560 – 561). When we next see him he is fighting off some invisible force (most likely more WB pirates) but at least he has a new cigar.

When WB is stabbed in chapter 563 he is still on the ice in front of WB’s ship. He has an agitated reaction, revealing that he has lost to Whitebeard in the past (“I didn’t lose to such a weak man!!!”)

Even though Sengoku tries to get the other fleets under WB’s command to turn against him, WB proves his integrity and power. And he also gives a speech about how even if he is attacked by his son, he still loves him and he also explains that the son does not bear the sins of the father. It is either this absolute display of love and appreciation of his sons no matter whose blood they have and what they do OR it is his display of power and integrity that Crocodile reacts to, visibly distressed, but no longer showing the explosive shock and anger of his previous outburst (I’m not horrible at reading facial expressions but I’m not great at describing them. Look for yourselves in chapter 563). Also, following right after the panel showing Crocodile’s face we get Whitebeard thinking to himself: “A “weak man,” am I…? What an insolent man… I’m only one man, with one heart… And you’re the same… They call me a demon and a monster… But I won’t always be the “strongest” out there…!!! If I can bring one young life into the future, isn’t that enough…!?” And then he joins the battle.

He now focuses on bringing that young life into the future (saving Ace) and this is the point where Crocodile’s unusual actions start. After a talk about unconditional love for his sons and the statement that protecting a son is worth much more than being the strongest. Could Crocodile too have decided that protecting Luffy (his son?) and Luffy’s interests is more important than his grudge against Whitebeard?

The answer seems to be yes, because in chapter 566 he is the first one to follow Luffy across the siege wall and into the plaza where Ace’s execution was supposed to happen. And he stops it after Luffy is pushed back by the Admirals. The reason he gives to Sengoku for his unexpected action is that he “wants to wipe the smile from your faces.” After Doflamingo chops off Crocodile’s head they engage in a fight.

It is after Luffy uses conqueror’s Haki, which again seems to confirm his relation to Dragon, WB gives the order for everyone to support Luffy in chapter 570. Whether Crocodile has chosen to follow Whitebeard’s lead or if he is acting for himself, he gave Daz the order to protect Luffy. Daz stops Mihawk’s attack and once Mihawk cuts him down and goes for Luffy again, Crocodile is there to stop him and allow Luffy to continue one. He must have shaken off Doflamingo in the meantime.

And then Ace and Whitebeard die (chapters 574 and 576 respectively).

And while the battlefield descends into further chaos and Luffy is unable to protect himself, we get a panel of Crocodile (chapter 577), apparently standing still in the chaos that is around him. He does not seem to face the same way as the retreating WB forces or the Warlords and Pacifista in pursuit of the retreating pirates. Maybe he is looking at Whitebeard one last time.

And then he’s off, apparently crossing the entire battlefield in an instant to stop Akainu from dealing Luffy the killing blow. And after that he gets physically between Akainu and Jinbei and Luffy before he sends them flying out of reach with his sands (chapter 578.) He yells the order for someone to grab them and get them to a ship, followed by one of my favourite lines directed at Jinbei who has tasked himself with protecting Luffy: “If you want to protect something, do it right!!!” Since we generally speculate that Luffy’s parents (or Dragon at least) chose to sacrifice their chance of raising Luffy in order to protect him from exactly what is happening on this battlefield, that line suits the Crocodad theory well. Whether Crocodile left behind his child to protect it from being punished for the sins of his fathers or if he left him behind because a child would get in the way of his ambitions, right in this moment protecting Luffy is all that matters.

He then joins a group of Whitebeard pirates, forming a protective barrier against Akainu. Akainu taunts them that all of them are willing to give their lives for Luffy. Marco repeats what Whitebeard thought earlier: they will see this boy off into the new age.

All of these actions could also simply point towards Crocodile maybe having been part of Whitebeards crew at one time, but the timeline has some difficulties. It does not seem like anyone who is on the crew now treats him like they knew him or at one point cared about him like a brother. We have also not seen Crocodile or someone who looked like him in the Wano flashbacks. Teach, who joined when he was 12 (and Crocodile would have been 18) doesn’t seem to know him as a crewmate either. If he ever was on WB’s crew, he would have left as a young teenager. (And as a sidenote, WB was an old-fashioned guy, he did not want any women on his crew apart from medical staff. This would not have been a good environment for Crocodile if he had been a girl before meeting Iva. And he clearly was making a name for himself as a rookie without being attached to WB’s crew.)

It could also symbolize how great of a pirate Whitebeard was that even Crocodile, bearing a grudge against him, shows him respect by following his orders. But that seems a little bit boring to me.

That said, I do think a Crocodad reading of his actions is rewarding.

After this battle we also get to see Crocodile read about Luffy’s actions so he clearly is interested in him now. And there’s this great exchange between Daz and Crocodile in chapter 593 where Daz comments that Luffy’s scars take a while to fade which Crocodile takes as a comment on his own (old) wounds. Crocodile insists that his scars are “fully healed” and that he’s ready to return to the New World now. He has put the old wounds of his youth to rest, he is ready to return to tackle the New World once again.

And maybe any wounds and scars left on him regarding Luffy’s birth have started to heal too. The kid will be fine.

If you read through all of this you have my respect X’D

And if you have comments, additions and objections let me know~

[eddiediaaz]

hi guys, i am kind of ashamed and embarrassed to have to do this, but i figured it can't hurt to ask. basically i am really struggling right now (i know a lot of us are). i need financial help, so i set up a ko-fi page ☕

any kind of help would be so appreciated and i am so grateful for anyone taking the time to read this little post.

long story short: because of situations completely out of my control, i lost my job in vfx after almost 8 years and i am now forced to switch careers. i'm going back to school and can't find a part time job even tho i have been working non stop for 15 years. financial aid will only cover my rent, so i absolutely need to work 20 to 30 hours a week to cover the rest of my living expenses, but it's really hard to find a job. i am also currently over 10k cad in debt from my film school loans and credit cards.

signal boost would be appreciated, if you can 💕

my situation in more details under the cut for those who are curious

i was working in the vfx industry as a 2D compositor since 2016 (i have worked on over 40 films and tv shows), but in december of 2023 i lost my job due to the hollywood strikes (as expected, and as it should—i fully support the strikes). this was supposed to be temporary for a couple months where i could get unemployment benefits (only 45% of my usual salary though). unfortunately, on may 31st 2024, my government announced that they are significantly cutting the funding & tax credits for the vfx industry where i live. what does this mean? mass lay offs. thousands of canadians and other people in the world working in the industry are losing their career, including me. there will only be about 20% vfx jobs left where i live by 2025. vfx shops and production houses have already started to close doors here. i'm still mourning this career i have been working in for 8 years and loved, even tho it's been difficult and demanding at times (lots of overtime), but there are just no jobs right now (unless you are a senior vfx artist with decades of experience) and the future will only get more bleak. i could move abroad and follow the industry that is already moving somewhere else, but i don't want to do that on my own (i am already super lonely as it is!!) and i can't afford it.

my unemployment benefits will run out by the last week of september. in 4 weeks. i've been sending resumes everywhere, both online and in person, but i am just not getting anything in return. even tho i have over 15 years of experience working in various jobs and i have never been fired from anywhere. even tho my resume and cover letters are solid because they have been approved my professional counselors (a free service for people under 35 where i live). so much for they're hiring everywhere...

since my vfx compositing skills are very niche and not really applicable to much else, i decided to go back to school, taking college classes in the admin and excecutive assistant fields, since it's something that i think would be good for me and there are lots of jobs for that here. i will be getting some financial aid, but it's nowhere near enough to survive. it will only cover my rent, and that's because my rent is super cheap for my city. my college classes start on september 30 and i am excited for it, but also very stressed because i still don't have a part time job.

i've been living on my own with a small salary for over 10 years now, but it truly is the first time that i'm struggling this hard. i honestly don't have anything worth selling except some taylor swift perfumes, which i sold this week. i also have over 6k of credit debt and another 4.5k of school loans left to pay. at the bare minimum i will need about $1.000 CAD/month to cover my other bills and expenses after rent, hence why the need for a job ASAP. i am desperate and my mental health has been a huge mess. this is why i decided to open my ko-fi accounts. not that i'm expecting much, but anything can help, i think.

i don't have much to offer in exchange, except gifs? i'm wondering if (cheap, low price) gif commissions are a thing? i have no idea know, but i set up a poll on my ko-fi page to see if anyone would be interested.

thank you for reading if you've made it here, it's appreciated 💖

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 1

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! maybe small age gap (reader is 20, mike is like 23/24 ?) lmk if there’s something i missed by chance

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. pt. 1 of a multi part series!

could be seen as a prequel to my first work My Favorite Prize, but wasn’t written with the intention :) hopefully this doesn’t feel too long, i promise it gets better in pt 2! mostly exposition here 😌

——————————————————————————

College was not the experience you’d expected at all. You lived at home deciding to attend community college, and you didn’t have many friends or the ‘college experience’ everyone else was having. You were lonely, but at least you went to bed in your own room every night rather than sharing a tiny dorm with an annoying roommate and zero privacy.

“I think I found a job for you, y/n.” you heard your mom say as you walked in the door, barely crossing the threshold.

She had been begging you to find a job for months now. You had an agreement with your parents that freshman year you would focus on your studies, but sophomore year you had to step up and start helping balance the burden of college tuition. It was now spring semester of sophomore year and you still had no job.

“Don’t hand me another McDonalds application, please.” you said with a sigh as you placed your keys and bag on the dining room table.

“You know the neighbor across the street, Mike?” you felt your heart drop with the mention of his name. How could you not know the neighbor across the street.

He immediately caught your attention the day he moved in with his sister. You knew he was a few years older than you, he wasn’t in school and he was constantly working. He was nice. Although, you’d never truly spoken to him besides introducing yourself back when he initially moved in and you were just a junior in high school. Your parents often helped him keep up with yard work when things got especially hard. Everyone knew they were struggling, it wasn’t that hard to tell.

“Yeah, I remember him.” Of course I remember Mike. He’s the neighbor that I’ve found a little too attractive since he moved in.

“I saw him this morning before work, he was telling me they’ve been in a really bad place lately. Abby’s babysitter quit, so I might’ve offered for you to stop by and help a few times a week.” your mother said, saying it as fast as possible so you couldn’t object.

“Really, mom?” you said sounding annoyed. “You couldn’t have talked to me about this before throwing me into it?”

“Listen, it won’t be that bad. I told him you’d stop by after dinner to just try it out, no commitment. He’ll be there while you just hang out with Abby for a few hours, you know how she is.” Abby was a sweet kid, just a little quieter than other kids her age.

“Okay fine, I’ll go. No promises this will work out.” You replied as you walked to your room, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead of you.

An hour later you found yourself at the doorstep of the Schmidt’s. You hesitantly raised your hand to knock on the door. You waited a moment until the door swung open.

You saw Mike standing in front of you and he honestly looked like a mess. His dark hair was all over the place and his eyes looked tired as can be. He was wearing a black hoodie, the front pocket was falling apart, and jeans that had dirt stains all over the front.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he said.

“Yeah, my mom told me you needed someone to help look after Abby.” you said, getting a good look at his eyes. This was the first time you’d ever seen them in detail. They were brown with a few specks of green and hazel in them. They were actually pretty nice to look at.

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “I didn’t intend on accidentally hiring you for this. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” you said chuckling yourself, looking down at your hands. “I’ve been needing a job, so it’s kind of a blessing in disguise.”

“You’re in college right? You’re studying… what was it again?” your mom must’ve really given him the rundown.

”Cybersecurity, second year.” you said with a small smile, blush creeping up on your face. You never got used to people complimenting your accomplishments even though you had been an honors student since 3rd grade.

“Right, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“Anyways, feel free to come in, Abby should be somewhere around here.” he said as he moved out of the doorway, welcoming you into the home.

The house looked cleaner than you’d expected, given the state of the outside of it. It was pretty ordinary and plain. He walked towards the living room, where you could see Abby laying on the ground. There was a TV in front of her playing some kind of old cartoon. An assortment of crayons, markers, and other art supplies were sprawled all across the ground.

“Hey Abs, I want you to meet someone.” Mike said to the young girl. You walked over to stand beside him. “This is y/n, she’s going to hang out with you for a bit today, okay?”

“Hi Abby, it’s nice to meet you!” you said with a smile.

Abby looked at Mike as he spoke, then looked at you, back at Mike again, before finally going back to whatever she was drawing earlier.

“She’s gonna be a little shy at first.” he whispered to you. “Once you start talking to her she should hopefully open up a bit. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff around the house if you need anything.” he gave you a reassuring smile before walking away.

“What kind of drawing is that?” you said in an attempt to start conversation with the girl. She looked at you for a moment before looking back down. This is going to be a long night.

You decided that your initial approach wasn’t going to work. So, you got down to her level. You sat down next to her on the ground, grabbing a piece of paper and marker.

“I like drawing too, you know. Give me the name of any cartoon character and I can draw it for you.” you said softly.

She gave you a side eye, before turning her head towards your face. “Any character?”

“Yup, any character.” you said with a smile.

“Felix the Cat.” she said just before turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. This girl knows her stuff.

After a few minutes of sketching the character, you set the paper down in front of her. She paused her own work, taking the paper into her hands. She looked at you again.

“Can you draw Yogi Bear?” She commented while still looking at the sketch in her hands, sitting up just a bit straighter.

“Sure.” you said before grabbing more paper and markers.

Before you knew it, there was a large stack of drawings from the two of you featuring all sorts of characters ranging from Mickey Mouse to the Powerpuff Girls. The two of you had been doodling for almost 3 hours now, pausing every so often to talk about why they chose the characters they chose. The two of you were now discussing your favorite drawings of the night.

“I think my favorite is…” Abby began before thinking for a moment, “Courage the Cowardly Dog.”

“That’s a good one. Look at how good your drawing is!” you said to the young girl as you both laid on the ground flipping through the pages of art.

“Not as good as yours y/n!” Abby said to you, holding a stack of her favorites in her hands.

The two of you continued your conversation as Mike returned back to check in on you guys. He was genuinely surprised at how quickly Abby opened up to your company. He stood out of the girls sights for just a moment longer, taking in the sounds of laughter coming from both his sister and you.

“Hey Abs, it’s getting late, you wanna get ready for bed?” he said as he walked into the room.

“Mikeee!” Abby whined. “I’m having so much fun with y/n. Please can I stay up a little longer?”

“It’s okay Abby, I’ll be back again soon and we can do it all over again.” you reassured the girl with a smile.

“Do you promise?” she asked you.

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Of course!” you said with a laugh, pinky promising that you’d be back. Mike watched the interaction unfold with a smile.

“Alright, go get ready for bed, I’ll come tuck you in soon.” Mike told his sister.

“Bye y/n!” Abby shouted as she made her way to her room.

“So, how was she?” Mike asked you as you stood up from the floor, attempting to tidy up some of the mess you both made.

“Great, actually. I thought she adjusted fairly quickly. You’ve got quite the picasso on your hands.” you said as you quickly gestured to the now extremely messy floor.

“It’s one of the only things that keeps her entertained.” he said with a small chuckle. “But in all seriousness, I can tell she really trusts you. She hasn’t had a babysitter who actually cared for her like this in a while.”

“It was fun, I’m glad it seemed like she had a good time.” you said with a smile. “So when do you think you’ll need me here again?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

��No that’s perfect. Already looking forward to it.”

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Seriously, I’m happy to help. I really did have a great time with Abby.”

“Tomorrow it is then.” he said before shuffling through his pockets for a few dollars, attempting to hand you them. “Here, take this for coming on such short notice.”

“Mike, it’s fine. I really don’t mind. You need it more than I do.” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?” he said, almost as if he had to convince himself it was okay.

“I’m sure.” you said as you headed towards the front door. “I think I’m gonna head out now.”

“Thanks again, y/n.” he said through the door as you walked out, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Of course, anytime. See you tomorrow.” you said with a small wave. You walked home with a different feeling inside. You knew taking this little job to help out the neighbor you never attempted to truly get to know was gonna be fun.

Mike shut the door after making sure you crossed the street safely, making his way to Abby’s room.

“Y/n is really fun, Mike.” she said as she pulled the covers over her body.

“That’s good, Abs.” he said as he grabbed one of her favorite teddy bears, handing it to her.

“I think we’re going to be best friends.” she said smiling at the new assortment of drawings she already managed to tape to her walls.

“You be nice to her, okay Abby?” he said to her. “I know how you can get, don’t screw this one up.”

“Okay Mike.” she said groaning, rolling her eyes slightly.

He shut off the lamp next to her bed, giving his sister a small kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Abby.”

He shut the door to Abby’s room, making his way back to the living room floor to clean up the mess that was still there. He grabbed one of the left over papers, admiring the assortment of characters on the paper. Right in the middle of it all were two stick figures which could only be assumed to be you and Abby.

He smiled at it, recognizing he had a good feeling about this babysitter. Not only because of how it could help Abby, but because he finally got the neighbor girl to break out of her own shell. Maybe it could even help him too.

[sayruq]

Hello , I hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻

Me and my family need your help to survive from genocide in gaza,here our goFundMe link just read our story and help us if you can or just share it, we appreciated everything you would do.

https://gofund.me/38cab03b

Hello, I'm Khader Abu Sha'ban, and I'm 20 years old, I have a twin brother his name is Ragheb, and we are from Gaza City, We started the second year of our degree (designing and programming mobile applications). We live with a family of 9 members, they are all educated and have university degrees in the fields of engineering, programming, information security, administration, and law, We are the youngest in the family and we are the only ones who are still learning and we didn't end our degree yet.

Don't forget our beautiful cat - Kelwa – whom we consider a family member and we adopted him during the war when he was homeless in the street, however, he filled our lives with joy.

Before October 7th, Our life was full of goals, ambitions, and hope. and because we are identical twins I and my brother share everything in life and we have the same hobbies, actually we have the same life So we practice sports such as football, table tennis, and basketball and we are professionals in video games. we spend our time learning English next to our university education in the field where we found our passion which is Programming, and we have a small online store (Candles Store) to sell candles that we manually made. We have a goal to finish our university life as fast as we can to join the labor market of IT and open our startup company for techniques and applications with the great passion that we already have. this dream is growing day by day, but because of the war and the current circumstances, the dream started to fade, during the war educational institutions and Universities were destroyed in Gaza and the study was arrested. during the previous 8 months we have been unable to complete our education and estimates indicate that restoration of university status in Gaza will take time and may exceed years. The war came and destroyed our lives, our dreams, and our souls, My family did not decide to displacement to the south, despite all the suffering we had passed during this period and we decided to stay at home and not leave the beautiful memories, the idea of displacement to south and go to an unknown place that we don't have any relatives there was the most difficult for us to leave everything and not return back, so the decision was steadfast, non-displacement and patience on the suffering, but the war has been partially damaged our house because of targeting the house next to us, and damaged our beautiful memories and become ineffective to live, but thank God no one of my family has been hurt. The house went and we lost a lot of our beloveds (14 members of my cousins) and witnessed a lot of suffering in Gaza we were forced to internally-displacement east and west more than 5 times and it was very difficult to escape under the shelling at night and under The voices of aircraft and bombing and moving from a non-safe place to another non-safe place and don't forget the starvation that we still live in northern Gaza and dumping bombs, rockets and insecure until life became black for us. We won't forget the night of December 18th, when we lived the most terrifying night in our lives when we woke up at night to the voices of bombs and shells of nearby tanks and the glass and shrapnel on us, and I do not forget the voices of crying and the sounds of the SOS and we are unable to move even unable to breathe because of the hole of the smoke bombs that have thrown on us, I swear the horror of this night will accompany me to the last day My life. The horror of this night is repeated daily and there is no end and life has already black for us, after all this suffering we have reached a plan to rebuild the rest of our lives again elsewhere after we lost our house and members of my family as well as we lost the source income of my family this led us to seek help through this campaign, the raised funds will cover travel expenses for 9 people outside Gaza (where the travel coordination costing $ 5,000 per person) and $ 5,000 for addition costs for initial stability Abroad and $ 5000 initial amount to complete the study abroad for me and my brother. If the situation improves in Gaza we will use funds to restore our house and complete our education in Gaza or abroad, according to appropriate conditions.

These brothers have been raising funds since May and they've only received €678 so far. Please share and donate. Help save lives !!!!!!!

[dresshistorynerd]

Roughly 10 Cool Historical Queer Figures More People Should Know About

Part 1 - From Ancient Era to Early Modern Era

In spirit of Pride Month here's some snippets of queer history I think are interesting.

I've been working on a series of deep dives into interesting historical queer figures, but I haven't had the time to continue my list after the first entry about Julie d'Aubigny. I do want to continue with it, but I came to the realization that I will never have to time to do all the cool and interesting figures in depth, since there's too many, so I decided to do a list with brief descriptions about some of my favorite figures who are not that well known. Some of them are more well-known than others but I think they all deserve more acknowledgement.

I was able to trim down the number of figures to (roughly) 20, which was still too many for one post, so it's two posts now. They are in chronological order, so this part is set mostly before Victorian Era and the second part will be from Victorian Era onward.

This list is centered around western history (but not exclusively) because that's the history I'm most familiar with, though it's definitely not all white, since western history is not all white. I will be avoiding using modern labels, since they are rarely exactly applicable to history, rather I will present whatever we know about these figures' gender, sexuality and relationships. If there's information about what language they used about themselves, I will use that. Often we don't know their own thoughts, so I will need to do some educated guess work, but I will lean towards ambiguity whenever evidence is particularly unclear. If you are the type of person who gets angry with the mere suggestion there's a possibility that a historical gnc person might not have been cis, I encourage you to read my answers to related asks (here and here) first before sending me another identical ask. Try to at least bring some new arguments if you decide to waste my time with your trans erasure.

1. Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum (latter half of 2400 BCE)

Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum were ancient Egyptian royal servants, and possibly the first recorded gay couple in history known by name. They shared the title of Overseer of the Manicurists in the Palace of King Nyuserre Ini. They both had a wife and children, but they (along with their families) were buried together in a tomb. The tomb decorations show them similarly as other afterlife couples.

2. Marinos the Monk (c. 5th-8th century)

Marinos the Monk was born as Marina somewhere in eastern parts of Byzantine Empire, likely in the Levant. He was from a wealthy Christian family, possibly Coptic. Assigned female at birth his widowed father planned to marry him off and go to a monastery himself, but he convinced his father to take him with him dressed as a boy named Marinos. His father agreed and they were accepted as monks. After his father died many years later, he continued his life as a male presenting monk. Later he was accused of fathering an illegitimate child with a daughter of an innkeeper, which was not possible, but he didn't revoke the accusations, instead he begged for the abbot's forgiveness for "his sins". Marinos was banished from the monastery and became a beggar. For 10 years he raised his alleged illegitimate child as a father, until he was allowed to return to the monastery and do penance. Only after his death the abbot and the monks discovered his genitals and his inability to father children and were distraught for punishing an innocent man for 10 long years. The real father was discovered and along with the innkeeper and his daughter they all came to honor Marinos' grave and ask his forgiveness. He was canonized as a saint for his sacrificial selflessness, modesty and humility and honored across the Mediterranean from Ethiopia to France.

3. Mubārak and Muẓaffar al-Saqlabi (c. 10th - 11th century)

Mubārak and Muẓaffar were co-rulers of Taifa of Valencia in Muslim Spain. Al-Saqlabi means literally "of the Slavs", which in Al-Andalus was a general term for enslaved northern Europeans, as the two had been enslaved as children. They were in the service of another al-Saqlabi, a chief of police, and they worked they way up as civil servants till a local military coup in 1010, which resulted in them becoming the emirs of Taifa of Valencia. English language sources often describe them as "brothers" and "eunuchs", which gives the "historical gal pals" trope a concerning twist, but contemporary Muslim sources wrote fawningly about their passionate love, trust based on equality and mutual devotion. There was a popular genre of homoerotic poetry in the Islamic world at the time and poems in that genre were written about celebrating Mubārak and Muẓaffar's relationship. In 1018 Mubārak was killed in a riding accident and Muẓaffar shortly after in an uprising.

4. Eleno de Céspedes (1545 – died after 1589)

CW: genital inspection

Eleno was born in Andalusia, Spain, to an enslaved black Muslim woman and to a free Castillian peasant. He was assigned female at birth, given name Elena, and branded as a mulatto born to a slave. She was freed as a child and married to a stonemason at 15-16 years old. When pregnant, her husband left her and died a while later. Later Eleno testified that his intersex condition became externally visible, while he gave birth, and he became a man. He left his son to be raised by a friend and traveled around Spain. After he stabbed a pimp and ended up in jail, he started presenting as a man and openly courting women. Eventually he taught himself to be a surgeon with the help of a surgeon friend.

When he married María del Caño, his maleness was questioned and he was subjected to genital inspection multiple times and it was agreed by doctors that he had definitely male genitals, possibly also female genitals. After a year of marriage the couple was accused of sodomy. Eleno was tried by the Spanish Inquisition and subjected to more genital inspections, during which no penis was found. He claimed that his penis had been amputated after an injury. He defended himself in the trial by arguing that his intersex condition was natural and he had become a man after his pregnancy, so his marriage was legal. He was sentenced only for bigamy, since he had not confirmed that his husband was dead and punished as a male bigamist with 200 lashes and 10 years of public service to care for the poor in a public hospital. His fame attracted a lot of people wanting to be healed by him, which which was very embarrasing for the hospital so he was sent away and eventually exonerated from his charges.

7. Chevaliére d'Éon (1728-1810)

Charles d'Éon de Beaumont was born to a poor French noble family. In their 20s they became a government official and at 28 they joined the secret spy network of the king, Secret du Roi. They became a diplomat first in Russia and later in Britain while they used their position to spy for the king. Rumors circulated in London that they were secretly a woman. While in London they had a falling out with the French ambassador, accused him of attempted murder and published secret diplomatic correspondence. They were instead accused of libel and went into hiding. After the death of Louis XV in 1774 and the abolishment of Secret du Roi, d'Éon negotiated with the French government of the end of their exile in exchange for the rest of the secret documents he possessed. D'Éon took the name Charlotte, claimed she was in fact a cis woman - she had pretended to be man since a child so she could get the inheritance - and demanded the government to recognize her as such. When the king agreed and included funds for women's wardrobe, she agreed and returned to France in 1777. After that she helped rebels in the American War of Indepence - was not allowed to ]go and fight too, ghostwrote her not super reliable memoir, offered to lead a division of female soldiers against the Hasburgs in 1792 - was for some reason denied, attended fencing tournaments till 65 years old and settled down for the rest of her years with a widow, Mrs. Cole. After her death a surgeon reported that she had male primary sex characteristics, but fairly feminine secondary sex characteristics, like round breasts, which might suggest she had hormonal difference/was intersex in some way.

8. Public Universal Friend (1752-1819)

Public Universal Friend, or The Friend or PUF, was born as Jemima Wilkinson to Quaker parents in Rhodes Island, USA. Jemima contracted a disease in 1776, gained intense fever and almost died. The Friend claimed that she did die and God sent the Friend to occupy her body. The Friend didn't identify as man or a woman, and when asked about the Friend's gender, the Friend said "I am that I am". The Friend didn't want any gendered pronouns or gendered language to be used about the Friend. The Friend's pronouns, according to the writings of the Friend's followers, were "the Friend", "PUF" and possibly he. First recorded neo-pronouns perhaps? The Friend also dressed in androgynous/masculine manner.

The Friend started a bit cultish religious society disavowed by mainstream Quakers, The Society of Universal Friends, which I can only describe as chaotic good. The Friend first predicted a Day of Judgement would come in 1780 and when 1780 came and went, the Friend decided it was New England's Dark Day in 1780 and they had survived survived the Judgement Day so all was good then. The Friend preached for gender equality, free will, universal salvation (Jesus saved everyone and no one will go to hell) and abolition of slavery. The Friend persuaded any followers to free their slaves, which is probably the most chaotic good thing a potential cult leader can do with their influence over their followers, and several freed black people followed the Friend too. The Friend advocated for celibacy and was unfavorable towards marriage, but didn't think celibacy or rejection of marriage were necessary for everyone else, so it feels more like a personal preference. Many young unmarried women followed the Friend and some of them formed Faithful Sisterhood and took leadership positions among the Society.

The Society of Universal Friends tried to form a town for themselves around mid-1780s, till in 1799 the Friend was accused of blasphemy. The Friend successfully escaped the law two times. First the Friend, a skilled rider (what's a gender neutral version of horse girl?), escaped with a horse, then after an officer and an assistant tried to arrest the Friend at home, women of the house drove the men away. Third time 30 men surrounded the Friend's home at night, but a doctor convinced them that the Friend was in too poor health to move but would agree to appear at court. The Friend was cleared for all charges and even allowed to preach at the court.

9. Mary Jones (early 1800s–1853)

Mary Jones' origin is unknown, but she was an adult in 1836 in New York, USA. She was a free Black person, who preferred to present as a woman. She was sex worker by trade and used a prosthetic vagina. As a side hustle she would steel her customer's wallets, and usually they wouldn't tell anyone because it was 1830s and inter-racial sex and prostitution were illegal and everyone was repressed. Smart. Get your coin, girl. However after one of her more shameless customers discovered his wallet with 99 dollars inside had been replaced with a different man's empty wallet and contacted the police, she was arrested. The police discovered she had male genitals and when they searched her room they found several more stolen wallets. She appeared in court in her female presentation and when asked about her dress, she said that prostitutes she had worked with encouraged her to dress in women's clothing and said she looked better in them. They were right and she had since presented as a woman in her evening profession and among other Black people. She was convicted for grand larceny and sentenced to 5 years in prison. Later she continued to present as a woman and practice sex work, for which she was arrested for two more times.

10. George Sand (1804-1876)

George Sand was pen name of Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil, a French Romantic writer. Amantine was high-born with a countess as a grandmother. George wrote about themself with alternating masculine and feminine language, using feminine language when talking about his childhood, but masculine language often other times. Their friends also used both masculine and feminine terms about them. Victor Hugo for example said about them: "George Sand cannot determine whether she is male or female. I entertain a high regard for all my colleagues, but it is not my place to decide whether she is my sister or my brother." George preferred men's clothing in public, which was illegal for those seen as women without a permit, but they didn't ask for permissions. They alternated between masculine and feminine presentations. They were outspoken feminist, critic of the institution of marriage, committed republican and supporter of worker's rights. They were married at age 18, had two children and left their husband in 1831, but legally separated from him in 1835. They had many affairs with men and some with women, at least with actress Marie Dorval. Their most notable relationship was with Frédéric Chopin, but they fell out before Chopin's death.

[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

[artificial-transmutations]

Beating Recession

Recession sucked, that much was clear to Logan even before he checked his email inbox. When he saw a few replies to his job applications from the last days, he sighed. He didn't need to open the mails to know that the news was bad, but he did so anyway.

"We regret to inform you..." - Logan didn't even read on. He had lost his job as an apprentice electrician about half a year ago. The company was going under, and Logan, the youngest and least experienced worker, was the first to go. That's how it was in this business. Since then, he had applied to every single position that came up - but apparently, the current economic situation was so bad that nobody needed another worker.

Logan had hoped that his apprenticeship would get him a job, but the fact that he was only 20 and had not much practical experience hurt him. Slowly, money was becoming a pretty big problem. Whatever savings he had (for some real estate of his own! As if that was going to happen!) had melted away over the last months. His rent was due, and he had no income.

In fact, he was one month late with his rent already, and although his landlord had been cool about it, Logan did not see how he would be able to keep his apartment. He really, really wanted to avoid moving back in with his parents who had their own problems, too.

So, what was he going to do? There wasn't much more to do than keep looking for a job, even though his chances were slim.

He opened LinkedOut and looked for openings, just as he had done multiple times before this week. The sparse list of jobs had not changed, so Logan scrolled on.

He was about to give up again when a listing caught his eye.

"Escape unemployment today! Change™ job agency will find the perfect job, for the perfect you. Apply here!"

He had heard of such agencies before, and the results were not pretty. Usually, they just took the applicants' data and sold it on. They would claim to have found a job for you, but it usually wouldn't work out, and the applicant would have paid money for this useless service. Still, Logan was curious enough to click the link. If they wanted money, he would back out immediately - it was not like he had any to spare.

To Logan's big surprise, when he clicked the link, a new page opened, with a web-based chat interface. Before he could close the tab again, there was already a message in the window. It read:

"Kevin: Hey, and welcome to the Change™ job agency. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?"

It was a nice surprise that they didn't try to sell him anything or even ask for his data before he had entered the website. Well, no harm done. He might as well give them a try. Hesitating slightly, Logan's fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed:

"Hi. I'm Logan and I'm looking for a new job."

The answer came quickly, but not so quickly that Logan would suspect the other person to be a chatbot. After some moments, Kevin's reply appeared on the screen:

"Great. What kind of job are you looking for? And what kind of salary are we talking?"

Logan considered the questions. This was probably the point where they would ask him for his data. He silently cursed his excessive caution. Of course, they had to ask these questions. How else should they offer him anything?

"Uhm. My last job was as an apprentice electrician, but at this point I would be pretty happy about just any job. The salary should be high enough to pay my rent."

Logan hesitated before hitting enter. He didn't want to come over as quite so desperate, but the truth was, he was.

"Okay, no problem. Do you have a preferred working sector?"

What a weird question. Why did it matter what industry he preferred?

"Uhm, not really. I guess anything is fine."

"Very well. Before I look up what's there in our database, I would need some basic information about you. Namely gender, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation."

"Wait. What does my sexual orientation have to do with a job? Besides, why do you need to know my ethnicity? Is this even legal?"

Logan had typed furiously and pressed enter before thinking about his reply.

"I understand your confusion. We here at the Change™ job agency strive to find not only a job, but the best job for the best you, so we need to know what we're working with. It wouldn't be very appropriate to apply a person as an actress who is really good at sports, now would it? Of course, you have to understand that your answers are confidential and will not be disclosed to any third parties, especially not your future employer."

That was fishy deluxe. Logan really didn't want to feed some unknown job agency all that highly personal information. On the other hand,... what did he have to lose?

"Well, I guess it can't hurt. Uhm. I'm a male, 20 years old, I would call myself white and I'm heterosexual."

"Wonderful. One last question: Are you comfortable with nudity and public sexual activities?"

"Wait, WHAT? I mean, uhm, sure, I guess? I mean, why should I need that?"

"This question is purely to determine if we should also have a look in the adult entertainment section of our job offerings. Alright Logan, please stand by while I enter your data into our search engine."

Logan leaned back. He felt a bit uneasy about all that. But it was not like his answers could lead them directly to his apartment, so he felt relatively safe.

A minute or so passed, and Logan started to think that he had been tricked after all, but just as he was about to close the tab, a new message appeared.

"Sorry for the delay, I had a few calls. We found two jobs that could be a fit. The first one is an office job in a big insurance company. To be honest, it's not that good of a fit and it doesn't pay very well either."

"That's fine." Logan wrote. He was incredibly on edge now. Could it really be so easy to find a new job? And he even had a choice?

"What's the other one?" he added to his previous message.

"Okay, the other job is a bit more unconventional, but we have the feeling it could be a great match. It's an actor position in the porn industry, at the famous XXX Incorporated."

"Porn? What? Are you serious? I mean, I don't have anything against porn or nudity or whatever, but I'm not sure if this is the kind of job I want."

Logan felt mixed feelings. The prospect of being some office drone sounded pretty uninteresting and a low pay wasn't all that good either. But a porn actor? Logan had to admit, the thought felt somewhat interesting, but he doubted he had what it took for that? Weren't porn stars famously hung and well-built? That was certainly not Logan. Just as he pondered those thoughts, Kevin's answer appeared:

"I understand Sir. So, should we continue with the first job opening then?"

Logan bit his lip, but the curiosity got the better of him.

"Wait. What does the second job entail? I mean, I'm not exactly... equipped for the porn business."

"Well, as I have said: It's an actor position, so you would star in some new adult entertainment productions. While I understand your modesty, our records show that you are more than adequately gifted for this kind of job."

Logan felt confused. He absentmindedly scratched his crotch before he replied:

"Uhm, sorry, I don't think you understand. I don't really think my..." Logan paused. Was he really going to write that? It was embarrassing, but at least he could be reasonably sure he would never meet this Kevin in real life. So, he continued:

"... penis is big enough for such a position."

The answer came promptly.

"Really? Better have a look to be sure ;-)"

A winking smiley? That wasn't very professional. Actually, the whole sentence wasn't. Still, Logan couldn't stop himself from glancing at his crotch. What he saw made him take a double take. His soft cock was forming a visible and ample bulge in his jeans. Logan knew that he was slightly smaller than average, so that was ridiculous. It was almost a... a porn star-sized bulge!

He stared at his package, but it wasn't growing any smaller. With trembling hands, he opened his jeans. Immediately, a well-filled pair of boxers escaped the confinement of his jeans. The dick print of his soft member was clearly visible in his underwear, and it wasn't just much bigger than Logan remembered. It was among the biggest bulges he had ever seen in his life!

His hands explored the impressive manhood through his underwear and felt every centimeter of the hardening dick. He had no idea what had caused this growth, but he wasn't complaining. Before he could interact more with it, however, he noticed another message on the screen.

"Are you still there, Sir?"

"Sorry, yes." Logan hurried to reply. What was he going to write? "I was below average just a few moments ago but now I have one of the biggest cocks in human history"?

Instead, Kevin answered.

"Good! I trust you had a chance to inspect your assets?"

"Uhm, yes."

"So, have you made up your mind, or should I look into the office position?"

Logan was torn. He wasn't sure what he had seen just a moment ago. Still, his enormous cock that was half-hard in his boxers was there, undeniably.

"Let's go with the porn star position." Logan finally typed, and his heart was racing.

"Very good! Now, as I mentioned, the position is in the adult entertainment sector. Do you know the company XXX Incorporated?"

Logan thought quickly about it before replying: "No, sorry, never heard of them."

"That is not at all surprising, since they specialize in the adult sector for homosexual men. According to your data, you identify as heterosexual. I hope that won't be a problem?"

Of course, there was a catch. Logan had heard about these gay for pay people and he hesitated yet again. They paid well, supposedly, but...

"Uhm. Would that mean I would need to be on the receiving end?" He wasn't too close-minded and could imagine kissing another man if he had to, perhaps even receiving a blow job from one. But having another person fuck him in the ass? No, that was way beyond his comfort zone.

"I believe the technical term you are looking for is 'to bottom'." Kevin replied, and added another message shortly after:

"But the company is, in fact, looking for a 'top' actor. They put it like this: 'We are looking for a well-built top for our new productions.'"

Logan was relieved. While he was a gold star gay man (why did he put 'heterosexual'? That was utter bullshit!), he was a strict top. This position sounded better and better. Still, one thing raised some new doubts.

"Hold on. I'm hung like a horse, but I wouldn't say I'm very muscular or even fit. I'm not much of a gym goer."

"Are you sure ;-)?"

Again, with the winking smiley! Kevin sounded so very professional most of the time, but then there were these messages. Logan scratched the back of his shoulder with some effort. Whenever he raised his arms so high the mountains of muscle on his upper arms danced and made it difficult to reach his back. Logan suddenly realized that something had changed - again! His shirt strained against his muscular chest, and as he lifted his shirt, he could see some cobblestone abs on an otherwise flat stomach. His calves had become thicker and strong. His jeans, which had felt slightly loose earlier, now seemed to be getting tighter.

Logan had never been very athletic. His body was lean, but not fit or muscular. That had certainly changed. When he looked at himself, he hardly recognized himself anymore. A huge dick, and a studly body.

Logan shook his head and let the shirt fall again. Whatever was going on, it was not a bad thing, was it?

"Alright, so I'm a buff top with a big cock. Is there anything else?" he smiled as he wrote that.

"Actually, there is one further requirement, but given your cooperation so far I don't believe it will be much of a problem either." Kevin replied, in his professional tone again.

"And what would that be?" Logan was intrigued.

"The company is especially looking for a, and I cite, 'huge, dominant Black top with large dick. Intellectual capabilities are not required'. Are you feeling up to that task? ;-)"

This time, Logan immediately raised his shirt to watch his body change. As soon as he read the words, his skin began darkening, first a golden bronze and then a rich black. It was a gradual change but happened very quickly. His muscles became even more defined, and his body hair thickened and grew even darker.

He didn't know what 'intellectual capabilities' meant, but as his body grew larger and thicker, he felt a strange fog entering his mind. It was a little unsettling at first, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. His usual thoughts quickly became overshadowed by his raising libido. As he grabbed his huge, Black throbbing cock, a dominant smirk crept on his mouth.

He turned his attention back to the computer and typed:

"Yeah, baby. I think I can make that happen. Just tell me who to fuck and I'll be there!"

He saw Kevin reply with a street address and a date and time, but Logan decided he would read that later. Now, his cock demanded his entire attention. He absentmindedly noticed his webcam turning on but paid it little attention. If Kevin wanted to watch him jerk his fat cock, he was very welcome to. After all, he just helped him find the job of his life!

That's certainly a way to beat recession! Also check out this blog!

[imagineinside]

Star-Like Encounters (Hugh Jackman x Fem!Reader) Chapter 3

Previous Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760895461984976896/star-like-encounters-hugh-jackman-x-femreader?source=share

A/N: Heheheh I had so much fun writing this little Cinderella-esque chapter. I hope you guys have equal amount of fun reading it! :) (Also, as always, I do not know these people nor is this meant to be an accurate representation of them.)

Description: You begin your first semester at a prestigious university with a mix of excitement and chaos. After a frantic start involving a late arrival due to your roommate’s Hollywood-related detour, your day takes an unexpected turn when you meet Hugh Jackman, your roommate’s boss, at a movie studio.

Hugh, intrigued by your expertise in physics, invites you to consult on a film project aiming for scientific accuracy. Balancing your new academic responsibilities with a potential Hollywood cameo, you must navigate your dual interests. As you face your own feelings, you discover that the lines between your professional and personal worlds are more intertwined than you imagined.

Currently Applicable Tags: Sexual themes 18+, Fluff, cocky Hugh Jackman, flirty Hugh Jackman, age gap (55 and late 20s), so much pining, mutual pining, reader under alcoholic influence, grammatical errors, more to come.

The day of the debut event arrived faster than you had anticipated. Hugh had arranged for you to meet with him and his stylists six hours before the event officially began, which you thought was quite an extensive length of time. But then again, you had never gotten ready for an event like this before. 

Hugh had been texting you pictures of various different red and yellow dresses, sent to him originally from his stylist. You think the last time you had worn an evening gown like that was to your high school prom. It had taken a while, but you had all settled on a strapless red gown that would be tailored to your form. What had really caught your attention about the gown was the small trane in the back and the slit up the front left leg. It was simple enough that you wouldn’t draw enough attention but still beautiful enough to match the rest of the attendees.

Hugh had promised to pick you up from your apartment, and as you sat on your couch waiting for the text saying he had arrived butterflies of anxiety flew around your stomach.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Ashley said as she walked into the common room with her lunch in her hand.

“Jee, thanks, Ash,” you snapped back.

Your friend raised her hands in self defense, “I didn’t mean bad by it. You’ll be fine tonight, you don’t need to worry. Hugh’s a good guy.”

“I know that. Just how would you feel if your celebrity crush asked you out to attend the debut of a movie you’ve been eagerly awaiting to arrive in theaters?” Your knees started to nervously bounce now.

“If Jennifer Lawrence asked me out I would make it a night she never forgot. So good that we would run off into the sunset together to live the rest of our lives together,” your friend said dramatically as she scanned the horizon with her hand.

You rolled your eyes, “Sure you would.” Just then your phone vibrated in your hand and a text from Hugh illuminated the screen.

Yup, that was the text saying he was here. You stood from your seat just as a second text came through.

You smiled to yourself at that, at least you weren’t the only person who was nervous about tonight. You thought that he would be accustomed to events like this after so many years in the entertainment business.

Going out to the car, you waved once you spotted Hugh parked on the side of the street. He was waiting outside the front of his car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed over his massive chest. Something about seeing him waiting for you like that made your heart soar.

His eyes lit up once he saw you, a crooked smile forming on his face, “Y/N, it’s great to see you.” If he was truly nervous, he didn’t seem to show it.

You gave him a polite smile, “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

“It was my pleasure,” He said and opened the door for you to slide into the passenger seat. His raw manliness is even more attractive paired with his manners and the way he seems to prioritize your comfort and presence.

The car was merging onto the road when he asked you next, “So, are you nervous?”

You let out a small laugh, “Me? Nervous about being photographed by hundreds of people? With you? And possibly also meeting some of your castmates? And seeing my photos go up online?” You swallowed and squeaked out a quiet, “Yes.”

Hugh laughed and something about the soft baritone made you feel a little better, “You’ll do great. You get to play the part of my sexy arm candy for the night… help to distract them from this old mug.”

You know he mainly meant it as a joke, but you were reeling with which to respond to first: his compliment (which like oh my god, did he just call you sexy?) or the fact that he views himself as anything short of the hottest man on Earth. “I don’t think anyone will pay me any mind, Hugh,” you said with a raised brow and a teasing smile thrown his way. “A fifty-five year old Wolverine never looked so good.” Were you flirting? Maybe just a little…

You weren’t sure if it was the change of lighting as you drove under a tunnel, but you thought you saw a slight blush creep up to his cheeks. “I’m glad you think so. I was slightly nervous at the start of the movie production being able to pay tribute to my old character.”

“Hugh, even if you weren’t still super hot and muscular, I don’t think there could be anyone else to play Wolverine.”

“You think I’m hot, huh?” He asked with a playful smile as he turned down an alleyway to the venue parking lot.

Despite feeling your own blush creep up on you, you decided to try to play it off, “I’m pretty sure every girl in the whole of the world finds you hot. I am far from the only one.”

You let him breathe a moment as he reversed the car into the parking spot, his hand coming up to the back of your headrest–and holy crap his bicep was right there. You barely resisted the urge to bite it.

“Maybe so,” Hugh finally replied as he gathered his belongings and paused for a moment to look you in the eye, “But right now you’re the only one that matters.”

* * *

The two of you were separated into different rooms when you arrived. Apparently it wasn’t going to take as long to get Hugh ready as you, so he was going to be working on other things. His stylist was a sweet, older woman who had years in this field. You gave her full liberty on your hair and makeup, she knew much better than you what would be appropriate.

“My daughter looks so much like you,” she had said sweetly while working on your makeup. “Of course, she never lets me do her makeup like this.”

Brenda, you found her name was, had given you a more subtle look. Nothing too flashy. More a sultry, smokey eye look with a matte red lipstick to match your dress.

“I do prefer to keep my hair up,” you had told her. You found it just bothered you if it hung in front of your face.

“We can work with that,” she said with a small giggle.

She ended up deciding on the very ageless french twist hairstyle, but without the necessary claw clip in the back. About midway through you had lost count of the amount of bobby pins she was hiding in your hair. Finally you were able to change into your dress, and with a couple finishing touches, such as earrings, a necklace and a bracelet, Brenda said you were “red carpet ready!”

It felt like you were living a real-life Cinderella fairytale. 

For one night only.

“Hugh is just through that door,” Brenda said with a knowing smile and a wink.

“Oh, Brenda, there’s nothing going on–”

She cut you off, “I’ve lived enough years on this Earth to know when there is a deeper connection, even if the other people try to deny it.”

Clutching the black handbag she had given you, you turned away from her and opened the door.

You didn’t look up right away, not sure what to do with yourself. You had never gotten this dressed up in your life. Pantsuits were more your style for work, not… this. Not that you didn’t completely enjoy it, though.

A breathless “wow” caught your attention and your eyes snapped up.

Hugh was standing across the room, seemingly in the process of applying his cufflinks. Though something had frozen him in place. 

No, not something… someone. You. 

His chest was moving quickly with his breaths, as if the wind had gotten knocked out of him. You felt every movement of his eyes on you as he took you in, as if his hands were there instead, trailing every curve and flowing line.

Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you gave him a quick spin, “What do you think?”

The next thing you knew, he was moving to you from across the room, cufflinks disregarded on a nearby table. Every step he took echoed through you until he came to rest before you. His hands hovered midair between the two of you, as if he wanted to reach out to you but came to his senses. 

You wanted to tell him to “Do it.” The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them.

Then his hands were on your waist and tugging you closer. You didn’t even realize you had begun to shake until you raised your hand to rest on his chest.

“You look absolutely stunning, Y/N,” the words left his mouth like a whispered prayer.

His hands seemed to move on their own as one trailed further south over the curve of your ass, and the other came up to your chin and tilted your face to meet his. You didn’t tell him to stop.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you whispered to him as you shared the same air. You could feel the puff of his breath across your lips–

A knock at the door had the both of you jumping away. It was like you had just been caught making out at your parents house for the first time.

“Oh, Huuuugh,” a sing-songy voice called from the other side of the door. You could recognize it anywhere, you had seen the Deadpool movies. “I’m comin’ in so you better not be naked.” And just like that the door swung open for Ryan Reynolds to enter the room. 

His eyes did one quick scan before stopping on you, and you weren’t sure why, but you held your breath. “And who is this lovely woman?” He said with a grin and began to approach you, “I’m Ryan, and who might you be?”

“I’m Y/N, the astrophysics Professor helping Hugh with his next film.” You said and shook Ryan’s hand.

“Well he did not say you were such a smokeshow, dear goodness. Don’t tell Blake I said that, she’d kill me,” you couldn’t help but laugh at that, knowing it was all just a joke. “Listen, they need us out there in like 20 minutos, can ya do that?”

20 minutes… your heart felt like it was in your throat. That little episode with Hugh had really distracted you from your nerves, but not anymore.

“Yeah, we’ll be right behind you, just give us a minute?” Hugh asked and gestured for him to leave the room.

“Ah ah ah, no not before a picture of you two, c’mon now,” Ryan said and practically shoved Hugh back towards you.

Something told you that Ryan wouldn’t give up quietly and Hugh gave you an apathetic look. You gave him a small smile and mouthed “it’s okay.” The next thing you knew, Hugh’s giant hand was back around your waist and you were posing for a picture. Once Ryan was apparently satisfied he put his phone down and began walking out of the room.

“You two look great! Trust me, you’ll thank me for the picture later.” With a click of the door, he was gone as fast as he had arrived.

A heavy silence fell over the small dressing room once Ryan had made his exit. You weren’t entirely sure where to pick up after what you had gotten interrupted from. Were you guys seriously about to kiss? For some reason you have a hard time believing Hugh would want to kiss you of all people. He could have literally anyone he wanted.

Distantly, you heard Hugh ask you a question. Something about a photo, maybe? You were so in your own thoughts that you just mumbled a “yeah” and didn’t give it much thought.

“Hey, Y/N, you alright?” Hugh asked, his hand appearing on your shoulder.

You blinked yourself out of whatever trance you had put yourself in, “Uh, yeah, sorry.” You paused for a moment, perhaps this would be the best time to be honest with Hugh. “Listen, I don’t know if I can do this…”

“What do you mean?” concern etched itself between Hugh’s eyebrows.

“I’m going to probably be asked questions I don’t know the answer to out there. I don’t know the first thing about posing in front of a camera. I am not star material, I spent nearly my entire graduate years inside my dorm room. I kid you not, I was so pale I scared my roommate ‘cause she thought I was a ghost one night.”

Your last comment made Hugh burst out laughing, the worry on his face disappearing almost immediately. You smacked him, not hard, with your black clutch purse. “Stop it!” You exclaimed, now beginning to fight your own laughter, “I’m actually nervous here!”

“Sorry,” he giggled, hand coming up to block his mouth as if that would stop his laughter, “I can just picture it so well–”

“Ah, jee, thanks. That makes me feel wonderful.”

Hugh wiped tears from his eyes and turned to look at you sincerely, “You are wonderful. But if you don’t want to go out there, then you can just skip the red carpet and go straight to the theater.”

You blinked up at him, “You promise?”

“I will pinky promise if you would like.”

You thought for a moment, “Yes, that would make me feel better.”

Hugh let out another laugh, “You don’t stop surprising me.” He linked your pinkies together and squeezed tightly, “I pinky promise you.”

Then, with a tenacity that surprised you after his hesitation earlier, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him until your chests were flush together. “Though it would be their loss not getting to see how absolutely amazing you look tonight.”

The air was beginning to feel heavy again as tension crackled between the two of you. You weren’t sure you would stop yourself if it came to another moment like before, and it didn’t seem that Ryan was going to come swooping back in. So, to save yourself from any future embarrassment, you playfully shoved Hugh away, his grip on your waist releasing, and you said, “You better get finished up there. Don’t want to be the one to make us late now would you?”

Hugh then finished putting together his suit, which was an all black ensemble but with a red handkerchief to presumably match your dress.

“How do I look?” he asked and gave a quick spin, mocking what you had done earlier.

“Very dashing,” you said and threw the magazine you had been flipping through to the side.

Before you could push yourself to a stand, Hugh was there with his hand outstretched in front of you. You smiled shyly at him before placing your hand in his and allowing him to pull you up next to him. “As I said, you can still leave the carpet if it gets overwhelming for you.”

As the two of you approached the door, your left hand rested on his bicep as he held you close up next to him. It was definitely worth standing so close, his bicep felt like a rock beneath your hand. “Thank you, Hugh.”

He gave you the most genuine smile you think you have ever seen before he leaned down and placed a quick kiss to the top of your head. And just like that, you were walking out for your very first red carpet event.

* * *

Walking out onto the carpet for the first time was even more overwhelming than you thought it would be. The immediate flashing of cameras had you recoiling and gripping onto Hugh’s arm even tighter. His other hand came up to rest on yours as another form of reassurance. Then he leaned down until his lips brushed on the crest of your ear to whisper, “Show them how beautiful you are.”

Lifting your head back up you squinted your eyes into the flashing of the cameras and gave Hugh’s arm a thankful squeeze. There was so much talking and photographers yelling around you that you weren’t entirely sure where to go or what to do, so you followed Hugh’s lead.

It was slightly mesmerizing to watch Hugh be in his element on the carpet. The way he moved into poses with you almost automatically helped you feel more confident, and you would pause every few paces to let photographers get their desired pictures. Later down the carpet, Hugh got pulled into a few interviews with Ryan, but that gave you a chance to talk to Blake Lively for the first time. You had absolutely loved her “Lady Liberty” look a couple years ago at the Met Gala. The two of you had actually exchanged phone numbers in the hopes of staying in contact.

“You doing alright?” Hugh asked when he and Ryan walked back over to you and Blake. His hand slid across your waist and stayed there, notched around your back, as if it was his favorite place to be.

You smiled up at him, “Yeah, I’m actually really enjoying this.” You settled a hand on his chest and looked at him in his soft, brown eyes. “Hugh, thank you for this experience.”

He smiled back at you, the crows feet forming in the corner of his eyes, “I’m not sure if this night was more for you or for me.”

You were about to ask him what he meant when Ryan exclaimed you guys should go get your seats in the showroom before everyone else got there first. You had agreed it was a good idea, and the two of you followed after Hugh’s costar.

The four of you got seats all in a row, with–of course–Ryan and Hugh sitting next to each other. You couldn’t believe that you were really going to get to see the movie with the two starring actors sitting right beside you. You would have to be careful to keep your fangirling to a minimum.

Watching the movie felt like a spiritual experience, or maybe that was just because the waiters kept coming by and handing you more champagne which you were definitely getting tipsy off of. Either way, it was amazing. It was everything you had ever wanted all wrapped up into one two hour length film. The comic accurate Wolverine had you bursting out laughing and asking Hugh how they had made him so tiny. Getting to see all the old mutants from the X-Men was also such a great experience. The Honda Odyssey fight scene would go down in your mind as one of the best choreographed fight scenes of all time. And don’t even get you started on comic-accurate Blade, Elektra, and Gambit. Plus X-23 coming back had you crying tears of joy on the inside.

Now you were watching the final scenes of the movie when Deadpool goes down to stop the machine from destroying his world. You didn’t even try to stop the tears from falling down your face at the noble sacrifice.

Hugh must have heard your quiet sniffles as you tried to hide your embarrassing emotions over fictional characters you had grown so attached to. “Hey,” he whispered, “it’s gonna be alright.” His hand fell to your thigh and his thumb began rubbing soothing patterns against your skin.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice watery from crying, “It’s just so beautiful. I wish I wasn’t ruining my makeup right now though.”

Hugh let out a low chuckle, “You still look beautiful to me.”

When you looked back up to the screen, it felt like your world was coming to a standstill. Right there, with Like a Prayer by Madonna playing in the background, was a very ripped, glazed Hawaiian roll looking Hugh Jackman all over the big screen. You didn’t even realize your jaw had dropped open until you heard laughter from beside you as Hugh took in your reaction. Deadpool’s reaction in the movie was also totally warranted.

“I don’t know if I’m turned on or still sad that now Wolverine and Deadpool are both going to die,” you whispered to Hugh beside you who gave your thigh a playful squeeze.

You watched the remaining moments of the movie at the edge of your seat, wishing that it would never end.

“Wow,” you said as the lights turned back on and people began filing out of the showroom. “That was…That was better than sex.”

“Amen,” Ryan replied as he helped Blake put her jacket back on. “Catch you later, Hugh.” You waved Ryan and Blake goodbye as they left the theater.

“I think that was the most jacked Wolverine has ever been in any movie.”

Hugh laughed and flashed his bright smile at you, “I definitely didn’t get that fit without a whole team to help me do it.”

You gave him a soft smile in return, “You did great in the movie, Hugh. I think that will go down as one of the best MCU movies, like, ever. I don’t think that was the worst Wolverine, I think he was the best one.”

Hugh tilted his head at you, “What makes you say that?”

“Because he had so many demons following him. He lost everyone. Yet he still found a new purpose to do better. You can’t be the worst version of yourself if you do that.”

“You look for the good in everyone don’t you?” He said with a smile as he stood from his chair and extended a hand to help you up. Ever the gentleman.

When you went to stand, your feet wobbled beneath you and fell forward like a damsel in distress. Strong arms held you upwards and you heard a laugh rumble up from Hugh’s chest. “Sorry,” you mumbled and righted yourself, “I think I had one-too-many glasses of champagne. Just hopefully I don’t throw up,” as soon as the words left your mouth you cringed at yourself outwardly. 

“Sorry, that was gross. Very not ladylike. And you are always such a gentleman. It’s like you were born to open doors for me and help me up from a chair. Sorry, I’m drunk. Don’t hold anything I’m saying against me tomorrow.” You mumbled into your hand as you realized you were rambling on. Jeez, that must have been some strong champagne.

“Maybe I should take you home?” Hugh offered as he held one arm around you and the other in your left hand, helping to steady you down the steps towards the exit.

“No, God, I’m sorry. I’m really making a fool of myself–”

“That’s not it.” Hugh cut you off, “I just want to make sure you get comfortable tonight and do whatever you need.”

“You’re so nice,” You said and looked up to his heartbreakingly handsome face, tears forming at the edges of your eyes, “I’m an emotional drunk, you can’t be that nice or I’m gonna cry.” Hugh laughed at that, at least he was able to find you humorous in this state. “Ashley also texted me and told me she was having a girl over tonight… I don’t want to walk in on her again.” You shivered, “We barely got past it the last time.”

Hugh seemed to cringe at whatever mental image he had pictured as well, “Alright, then where were you planning on going tonight?”

“I asked our friend Janet but she didn’t respond. Oh no!” You exclaimed, “I’m going to be homeless!”

Hugh laughed and guided you outside towards the back parking lot where his car was surely still waiting for the both of you. “You’re not going to be homeless. If you need to, you can spend the night at my apartment.”

“Nonononono,” you hurried to say, the words slurring together, “I can’t stay at your apartment. I cannot see where the magic happens.”

“Where the mag–What are you saying, goofball?” Hugh laughed again as he opened the door for you and you did not slide into the seat gracefully, as much as you tried.

“You’re so hot. There’s no way I can spend the night at your place. I want to too much.”

Hugh began driving out of the parking lot and the motion of the vehicle made your head spin even more. “Why not just try to get a little shut eye, it’s a thirty minute drive to get there from here.”

* * *

You didn’t even realize you had passed out in Hugh Jackman’s car until you heard the hum of the engine come to a stop and the lights flick out. You had drool sliding down the side of your mouth which you tried to slyly wipe away.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Hugh greeted and reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You reveled in the light graze of his fingers as they floated against your skin. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

The nap had actually helped to sober you up a lot, though you would never admit that he was right, of course. You were able to walk up to his apartment without any assistance in not falling over, though Hugh still stayed behind you in case you lost your balance. Once you got inside, your jaw felt like it fell to the floor. This one apartment was probably four times the size of the one you shared with Ashley, and it even had a staircase up to a second floor. So there wasn’t just one floor for one apartment? This was an entirely new concept to you.

And there was an entire wall of windows. You basically dashed over to them as you looked out to the sea just West of you and the city lights scattering the Southern coastline.

“Wow,” you breathed, your breath fogging up the glass.

“I know,” Hugh said from behind you, “once I saw the view I knew I had to have this place.” He reached forward and placed a gentle hand on your lower back. “Why don’t you go wash up in the master bath, I’ll get some clothes laid out for you.”

You blushed and mumbled a thank you before following Hugh up the stairs. The master bedroom alone was the size of your apartment, though you didn’t want to say anything. You’re sure Hugh isn’t the type to rub his financial status in other people’s faces, and therefore he probably doesn’t like people making comments on it either.

“Use whatever you need,” Hugh said with a smile as you worked on taking your heels off on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you blushed, embarrassment flooding over you. “I’m really sorry about getting so drunk, Hugh. I don’t want you to think that’s normal for me.”

Hugh waved you away and came to sit next to you, the bed dipping from his weight as he sat down, “Tonight was about you enjoying the experience and the movie, which you did. I’m glad that you were there with me.”

“Did I say anything too unhinged? My memory is a bit fuzzy right before I passed out.”

Hugh appeared to give it some thought, “No, just that you think I’m hot.” He said with a mischievous smile.

You rolled your eyes as a smile grew on your own face, “Well I thought that was already obvious.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, duh, I’ve only had a massive crush on you since The Greatest Showman,” the second the words left your mouth you realized what you had said. 

The smile dropped from your face almost immediately as you grabbed a nearby blanket and threw it over your head to pretend you could simply disappear. You guessed that while you didn’t feel drunk anymore, your filter was still working on coming back. 

“Y/N,” Hugh called and tugged at the blanket but you fought to keep it in place.

“No, I’m never coming out of here.”

“Sweetheart, let me see your face,” something about the way he said it made you allow him to peel the blanket off of you. You weren’t ready to look at him again, though it felt like his eyes were looking straight through you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For what, sweetheart?” Hugh asked as his hand lifted your chin until you had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“For ruining whatever friendship we had the possibility of creating.”

“Baby,” he purred, his voice like silk, “this was never going to be only a friendship.” Then his lips were on yours.

The kiss wasn’t frantic or steamy like you thought it would be. It was soft, and gentle, like he was just testing the water to see if either of you would get burned. You opened up to him, becoming pliant under his strong hand that was still on your cheek. A deep moan echoed up from his throat to urge you on, the sound making you squeeze your thighs together as you gripped around nothing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hugh whispered, sounding absolutely breathless as he broke the kiss, only to come back for more.

You opened up for him when his tongue requested entrance and it was like neither of you could get enough. Sharing the same breath wasn’t enough anymore, you needed to be closer. You pushed against his chest, to which you received very little resistance before he laid back on the bed, all spread out for you. Something about seeing him flushed and breathing heavily because of you really messed with your head.

Before you had a chance to overthink it, you swung your leg over him and settled over his abdomen. Your hips grinded down on their own accord, though it rewarded you with a satisfying groan from the man at your mercy beneath you. You would do that all night if it meant you got to hear him make those noises.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Hugh gasped and his hands shot out to your hips with a grip you were sure would leave bruises in the morning.

“I think I do,” you whispered, “because you do it to me, too.”

Both of you moved at the same time, lips crashing together. You didn’t even mind that your teeth knocked together as he ravaged you. His left hand came up to grip at the back of your head, holding you right where he wanted you. You felt him rut up against you in search of friction, and God you wanted it so badly too, but–

“Hugh,” you pulled away, breathless and lips red from kissing, “I think we’re getting carried away.” He stayed beneath you, chest heaving, as if he was still trying to process your words. “I don’t… I think we should talk once I don’t have any alcohol left in me.”

Hugh nodded, his mouth parted as if he was still contemplating whether to kiss you again or not. “Alright, sweetheart, I’ll let you get washed up. I’ll get you some water and a Liquid IV as well.”

“Thank you,” you said and placed a small kiss on his lips before sliding off of him as a reminder it wasn’t over.

You hadn’t realized the extent to which you had affected him until you looked back to see a tent in his dress slacks as he sat up. You quickly averted your gaze and strutted into the washroom.

Once you were done, just as promised, Hugh had left (what you would assume) was one of his shirts laid out on the bed, as well as water and a Liquid IV on the nightstand. Alongside it was a folded note that read: I’m sleeping in the guest bed, I don’t think I would be able to control myself with you tonight. Sleep as long as you need, I’ll have breakfast ready in the morning. ♥️

You went to bed that night with a surge of hope in your chest.

Bonus, Hugh’s Instagram Post:

Taglist: @corvusmorte, @chinchie, @reinabxitch, @shortnloud, @nizem8, @rexmeshlasblog (if you aren't on this last but want to be let me know!)

[moiraimyths]

Howdy, fateful friends! Are you an artist or illustrator with an interest in visual novels?

If so: Moirai Myths, creators of the visual novel The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe), are in need of guest artists! More specifically, we're looking for up to two artists to help us with the content graphics ("CGs") for Maeve and Shae's upcoming routes. All of the details will be listed on our application form (linked below), but here is the gist:

This is paid work with 20-30 business day deadlines per piece!

Complicated revisions in the post-sketch phase are compensated!

You will be prioritized for future guest artist opportunities!

You will be featured/credited on Moirai Myths' website and in the game itself!

Sound interesting? If so, apply here:

Click under the cut for some F&Q 👇

Who are you? (I'm new here!)

Hi! We're Moirai Myths: a small, newish visual novel company based out of Canada. We're making a game inspired by mostly Irish mythology, which was funded on Kickstarter in 2023! Our game's got fairy politics, a diverse cast, a Gaeilge-to-English translation tool, and routes that can be played either romantically or platonically! Also horses. An ungodly amount of horses, really.

If that odd pitch sounded intriguing, perhaps you'd like to play our demo! It's free on Steam & Itch.io.

Why are you looking for guest artists?

When we originally launched our Kickstarter, the plan was to have our three in-house artists collaborate on the CGs in the same way our header image was. However, we quickly realized that adding CGs, even if they're done collaboratively, onto the existing duties of our artists was a tall order. Add to that the departure of our original sprite artist (who has since been replaced by our graphic designer), and we determined that having our in-house team work on CGs was simply not possible if we still wanted our first release to happen in 2024. So, rather than omitting CGs or adding them in at a later time, we came up with the idea of hiring guest artists. Overall this means our CGs will be a bit more varied in terms of art style, but we like to think of this as a positive! NDM's development will take a number of years to complete in full, so we hope our CGs will allow us to feature a lot of artists either within the VN/indie dev community already, or artists who aspire to work in gaming and are looking for entry positions.

How long will applications remain open for?

This application will be open until Sunday, March 24 at midnight (EST)! If we intend to extend past that deadline, we'll make an announcement about it.

I can't apply right now. Will you look for more CG guest artists in the future?

Definitely! As mentioned, NDM will take a while to develop in full, so this is by no means your only opportunity to apply. That being said, we suspect we're going to end up shortlisting a number of artists over the course of this application period, and we intend to keep a list of all the runners-up. So, even if you won't be able to participate this time, it might be a good idea to apply anyway just to remain in our contacts! Either way, this will not be the last time we have apps.

Will you be looking for guest artists outside of CGs?

Maybe! We already have two guest artists (Nefukurou and Madi Funk) working on sprites and CGs respectively, so it's always possible that we'll have other artistic needs later down the line. Likewise, we may also reach out to past guest artists for future work with us, whether it's on this game or something else!

You say we need to sign an NDA. What does that entail?

The non-disclosure agreement essentially means you will be legally unable to publicly disclose any confidential information you become privy to as a result of working with us. This would include personal information about the developers, as well as spoilers from the game itself. In addition do this, you will be expected to sign over the IP and copyright of any artworks you produce for us.

Can I still use my artworks in portfolios, even if I don't own the copyright?

Yes! We'd only ask, if your portfolio is a website, that you wait to do so until after your art has been made public by us, either on our social media or via the publication of the game. Our first release is anticipated to happen later this year, most likely mid-autumn.

How do you guys feel about AI? Do you intend to use it, or would you ever train an AI off of the artworks whose copyright you own?

No.

Making a game is expensive and time-consuming, but AI is no replacement for human artistry. We fundamentally believe that any advancements in AI should be used for the purpose of giving people more time to make art, not take away opportunities for it. Moirai Myths will never, ever use AI or train an AI off your work.

***

If you've got any more questions for us that we didn't think to include here, feel free to send us an ask!

[3liza]

stop putting important information on your website in the form of a PDF formatted for print.

I don't want to print the grant application instructions, I'm on my phone on the toilet like everyone else reading your website. copy and paste the fucking verbiage onto a regular web page. provide a link to a "printable PDF" that has the same text on it at the top of the page. this is so simple and so basic it makes me feel crazy that I've been dealing with this crap with every government agency and school and organization for 20 years and in an increasingly phone based information ecosystem there are still no signs of the people making these websites using their actual brains about how the information they are trying to impart is actually being presented

[raayllum]

Cube Hostage Exchange Theory, for Real This Time

Intro

A few days after Through the Moon came out in September 2020, I made a throwaway theory post about a potential Rayllum reconciliation scenario in which Rayla would be taken captive / threatened by the antagonists, and Callum would hand over the Key of Aaravos in order to save her life.

In the almost four years since then, the theory has blossomed into much more than it started as, largely due to people's amazing art and fic inspired by it, and by the enthusiasm it's been received with, and for those things I will always be eternally, deeply grateful for.

The theory (henceforth CHET, an acronym coined by @jelzorz) has likewise gone through many metas (some of which will be referenced and linked to here when applicable), 20+ pages alone on my blog, with surprising leaps in popularity and plausibility, and multiple variations, both within the theorizing space and within canon itself (5x08, you will always be famous).

There's also been many moments of doubt.

As much as everything seemed to make sense even as Rayllum's post-TTM reunion went on, there was still so much left that was perpetually speculative. We didn't even know if Aaravos would want his cube back, which was one of the theories' many lynchpins, and TDP loves to be subversive (within reason) and throw curveballs I never saw coming, like Terry's wonderful existence or Sol Regem's swerve to attacking Katolis. I've speculated alternative uses for the Key to high heaven (as Aaravos' missing heart piece, a key to the Star Nexus or realm, the key to his prison, and sometimes all three simultaneously as a power up he needs to free himself and wreck celestial havoc). The closest I got to was it being a literal key and related to something Aaravos would want/need back, and indeed a power up, and that he did need a quasar diamond to get out of his prison and that one was in the staff and not also in the Key. Not bad, but definitely missing some marks.

That is to say that there could still be curve balls or swerves, and a theory isn't set in stone as happening until it happens. After all, I've been fully prepared to pack the theory up and for it to not happen three times now (going into S4, particularly S5, and S6). When the S4 finale did indeed have a hostage exchange involving Rayla and Claudia and a boyfriend, I chuckled and figured we might not repeat a plot beat like that again; when 5x08 did it twice, I was overjoyed at getting the exact irony of "Callum literally frees Rayla while chaining himself further to Aaravos' will" that I'd always wanted. 5x08 was, and is, enough for me; if S7 never takes it further, I'll still be pleased as punch.

However, after four years of hemming and hawing and going into seasons preparing for curveballs... I'm pleased to say I finally don't have any doubt.

And here's why.

Sections:

Background

The Cube and the Game Motif

Neon Lights, Narrative Set Up and Pay Off (6x03, S6)

The Knowledge Motif Thread Detour

Tests of Love (Leola, Chaos, and Love)

Alternatives (no possession, third path, Rayla handing over the cube, etc)

Conclusion

Background

First, a little background. Any relevant information in the metas listed below will be summarized / explained / alluded to accordingly for your benefit, but it is a good luck at 1) how the theory has evolved over time and 2) will be drawing in relevant aspects from said metas when discussing season 6.

Previous proper CHET metas include (in chronological order):

The Original Theory Post / Meta (Oct 2020, post-TTM)

Rayllum and Rayla's Weird Consistency with the Key (March 2022, pre-S4)

Rayla's Duality as Callum's Salvation and Destruction (Aug 2022, pre-S4)

CHET: End of Days (Nov 2022, pre-S4)

Opposing Cube Symbolism in 2x08 (Dec 2022, post-S4)

Here's How It Can Still Win (Dec 2022, post-S4)

Aaravos and Rayla as Callum's Two Paths (May 2023, pre-S5)

Shorter post-S6 meta

Things that are useful to our meta here ultimately, however, with a couple of S6 updates in later sections are

THE GAME MOTIF

This refers to a repeated visual and verbal literal and metaphorical motif running throughout the series. Although not exclusive to him, 90% of the time the Game Motif is in relation to Aaravos. It is most prominent when discussing the Key of Aaravos in arc 1 ("This is the game room. Cube should be in there" / "It's a glow toy" literally / "Are you practicing magic or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?") with one 'throwaway' line from Viren to Aaravos in 2x08: "What game are you playing at?"

This then took on a much more prominent focus in arc 2 thanks to the pawn intros and lines from various characters, such as Zubeia's assessment that "We had to beat Aaravos at his own game," Viren's reservations that "I believe Aaravos may be toying with us," Ezran's "His pawns are working to free him even as we speak."

Much of this has been rather set in stone for a while now (one of the TDP's shorts did, though, excitingly link Aaravos' test of love to the game motif, with the line "They aren’t games. They’re tests") but S6 did add some very exciting overlap with Aaravos' game and dark magic, which is fitting given that the two are deeply intertwined: "Because you're too good for dark magic, now? You had a lifetime to play with your toys, and now you decide to hide them away and destroy them?" (Viren to Kpp'Ar about the staff, 6x06.)

We also see occasional overlap with this motif and the stage motif ("You've played your part well" in 6x08 to Sol Regem / "Aaravos chose as his instruments..." + "You will perform acts of love so unforgivable..." in 4x04) as you can play a game, and play your role in a theatrical performance. Or in Callum's case, as a puppet who is "destined to play right into" Aaravos' hands.

PRIMAL STONE FORESHADOWING

As Callum discusses in 2x02 directly, he broke Claudia's stolen primal stone on purpose (not by accident) because he had "a good reason". The comparison later on in the same season, then, that the whole world is like a giant primal stone, and Callum's tendency towards breaking things (specifically magical objects) we well as the emphasis on "breaking the cycle" therefore felt like setup. It also felt particularly apt given Aaravos' wish expressed in Patience that:

I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky.

S6 also affirmed this by associating the primal magic that Leola 'gave' to humans the "first step in a long spiral towards Callum," and what that might mean for Callum, someone who is uniquely a primal mage and has used dark magic. The fact that Aaravos and his key (remember that game motif) are associated with the book of / primal magic as well as dark magic reinforces this duality further.

Who better to shatter the Cosmic Order and known world for the worst better than the boy who is already shattering it for the best?

LIGHT AND DARKNESS

The cube and Aaravos are associated with both light and dark, not only in design, but in magic systems. Aaravos and dark magic are routinely related to darkness ("because I have followed a dark path" / "the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you" / "and my favourite, the human mage, already tainted by darkness" / "in darkness, gaze upon a fallen star"). This is fairly straightforward, as Rayla represents literal light (which we'll get to in S6 in a moment) that heals Callum's broken spirit and rescinds Aaravos' control over him. Note, for example, the way she's shrouded in light in clear opposition to Aaravos' mirror right next to her, with Callum facing ahead towards both of them.

However, it's not that simple, because light can also be seen as a bad thing, such as the possession eyes, Karim's desire to "return the light/sun" to his people, the cube-moon opal's light on the Bridge of Darkness in 4x07 leading to danger, dark magic turning your hair white, and most notably, the way the pawn becomes a literal glow toy in the 4x04 / 5x08 pawn intro.

The light of the cube — perhaps the light in general — is not going to be exclusive in playing into Aaravos' hands. In the mirror-Rayla screenshot, for example, the path towards Rayla is embodied by the shadow she casts on the floor (similar to how regularly Claudia is portrayed in Viren's shadow in S6).

And, speaking of light...

RAYLA AS CALLUM'S PATH, SINGULAR

As speculated pre-S4, Rayla represents light, truth, and love in Callum's life. This was then canonized in 6x06. Post-S4, it seemed overtly evident that Rayla was being set up further to represent a path in opposition to Aaravos. She would save Callum from being Aaravos' prey, she was the Light and reminder of agency to Aaravos' Darkness and stripping of agency. "What if I'm on a path of darkness?" "Then take another path, dummy." This was, of course, all in line with the previous light-darkness and game motif described above. Rayla couldn't, and won't, kill Callum permanently after all if at all, so she has to save him instead.

However, it was also pretty clear following S4 and especially S5 that the razor's edge between salvation and destruction, as embodied by Rayla being the reason he was in Aaravos' clutches in the first place (getting him the cube, being his motivation behind doing dark magic), would eventually merge. Her love would ultimately save him, but it would destroy him first.

This has, of course, been their pattern throughout the series: Rayla comes into his life, causing him to turn/destroy his relationship with Claudia and put him in danger, but she's also what pushes him to do magic for the first time; he follows her off the Pinnacle at great risk to himself, but his love for her helps centre him enough that he can save them both; she is the reason he does dark magic (twice), but is also what fixes his broken spirit during the star-light trial ritual.

Because she's not just the other path in opposition to Aaravos. She is his path, singular.

If you're interested in more of this, I'd recommend my one about the layers of Rayla being Callum's One Truth in greater detail, as well as general speculation of their arc in S7, some of which will be referenced/summarized here as well.

With all that out of the way, let's get into it

The Cube and the Game Motif

Anyone who knows me knows that the Game Motif is my favourite motif in TDP (which is saying something) and that said motif has been a long standing cornerstone of CHET. This is mostly because, as noted, in arc 1 the Game Motif existed almost exclusively with the cube down to its introduction.

CALLUM: This is the game room. Cube should be in there. (1x04)

CALLUM: Last night you thought the cube was just a worthless toy. But now we know— RAYLA: It's a glow toy. (1x05)

The Game Motif was also associated with Aaravos sparsely in arc 1 ("What game are you playing?" Viren demands in 2x08, and never receives the answer / "Well played. She will be a valuable asset") and magic itself ("Is this a guessing game? Just do it!") although to a lesser degree. There were also nods to the imbalance of power in Xadia, with Harrow noting, "Entire armies have crumbled and fallen like toys before [Avizandum]. How can we hope to kill such a godly creature?"

Then, as noted in arc 2, the game motif went from being associated just with the cube to being associated with Aaravos outright, both verbally through dialogue and literally in the pawn intros. This is what I call a motif expansion, where something moves from subtext to text. It is somewhat similar to a merger, where two previously separate associations are brought into being one in the same. This is initially how the cube operates, since the game motif is ongoing whereas Callum's statement of "You wait here, however long it takes, I'll go find a key" in 1x04 is only made foreshadowing in 2x06 when he learns it's called the Key of Aaravos.

2x07 takes this further, though, with this dialogue exchange:

CALLUM: [Holding the cube] What do you think this thing is, anyway? He said it was a key, but a key to what? RAYLA: Are you practicing magic, or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?

For example, here we see the Key analogue/association and the game motif be linked together. TDP does this a few more times with Aaravos' key becoming associated with light (4x04/5x08), destiny dark magic (2x08, 4x04), secrets/mysteries (2x07, 2x06) and more. A lot of this is, of course, because Aaravos is likewise associated with all these things, and the Key is tethered to him and his plot line / motifs and associations.

The game motif does exist outside of the cube's associations — Ezran's pattern of hide and seek represents his childhood innocence, his tendency to run and hide when things get hard, and him shedding both these patterns as they attempt to find

The most interesting thing that S6 did on this note, then, was make the game motif associated not just with magic, but very specifically with dark magic:

VIREN: Because you're too good for dark magic now? You had a lifetime to play with your toys, and now you decide to hide them all away or destroy them? (6x06)

Why am I screaming about this, you may ask? Well, the Staff of Ziard is about as synonymous with dark magic as a thing can get in TDP. It too belonged originally to Aaravos, and became a cornerstone in his grand plan, at least of getting out of the prison.

HARROW: It belonged to an elven wizard in Xadia, the Archmage Aaravos, a master of all six primal sources. (2x06) IBIS: If you seek to return that staff to its true owner, you pose a greater danger to the world than I can allow. (4x03)

So the Staff is a toy, and dark magic, and belonged to Aaravos, and used in his plans, brought directly to him by Viren (indirectly) and Claudia (directly). And the Key is also referred to as a toy, is also in the possession of another pawn, and has also been hidden and/or 'should' be destroyed. A knowledge of primal magic, at least in terms of how it manifests in creatures/locations, is also required in order to be a successful dark mage.

So not only is Aaravos and the key tied directly to the game motif, but through Viren's exchange with Kpp'Ar, so is dark magic. In many ways, this takes what was subtext — dark magic is what allows Aaravos to puppet and manipulate people such as his pawns, and keep the Cycle (his game) going, even if he's not what directly started it (that was the Cosmic Order/Council) — and makes it text. Aaravos' toys are toys ultimately because of their tethers to magic, typically dark magic as well, and his objects of choice, such as the Staff or the Key or how he puppets his pawns, are not exceptions. (There's potential for primal magic as well, of course, but it's currently not as direct).

We also know, thanks to Arc 2, that the Key and Staff are more similar to one another than we might've thought in terms of their purposes in Aaravos' plan. I'd speculated in the past that the Staff and/or the Key held quasar diamonds that Aaravos needed for some power-up purpose; the Staff had the diamond needed for his body contingency plan, and the Key is needed for his primal book to operate and presumably be found, so that he can be at full power.

Furthermore, we have a pattern of dialogue about the Key / game motif eventually becoming literal. The cube is called a glow toy, and then in the pawn intro is revealed to be a literal glow toy; Callum says "what if it's magic?" in 1x04 and we discover that it opens up a book of all primal magic; it's foreshadowed loosely as a key, and it is a key; Rayla asks if Callum is losing a game, and he's embroiled in Aaravos' game as a pawn. Callum will win eventually, of course, as will everyone else... but he has to lose, really lose, first.

After all, every other line regarding the cube has come to fruition other than three:

"This is the game room. The cube should be in there" and "I'll go find a key" from 1x04 have both come back around. "It's a glow toy" from 1x05 ended up being true as well, with the cube flashing a bright light in Callum's pawn intro (and even the cube being included in the pawn intro). The Key's secrets are things Callum is currently investigating (6x02) and will likely fully discover in S7, possibly leading him to Aaravos' book or something else near Elarion and the thematic culmination of the Mystery of Aaravos. Callum's notice that the key seems to be glowing differently in 1x09 is revealed to be true because of the Moon Nexus. Rayla's line in 2x07 about losing the game to Bait is true in 5x08 as he practices magic (both dark and primal) in order to save her from being literal bait, even if that means taking a step closer to Aaravos and 'losing' the game. I expect Callum's assessment of "No good can come from it" (4x07) will ultimately be untrue if it helps him study primal magic ("What if it's magic? [...] I just have a feeling this cube thing can help me"), and Rayla's decision of "Let's go get your cube" is likely going to be true by the end of S7, with Callum reclaiming ownership completely this time.

So let's talk about the three lines that haven't come to fruition yet, because they paint a pretty apt picture:

So in the biggest notion of currently untapped set up, Rayla after being the first to declaring the damn cube a toy says "I hope it was worth it to you putting everyone's lives in danger." The thing is that this it's not like this line doesn't work in context, it very well does; someone could've gotten hurt and Rayla was nearly killed. This is also a sort spot for her because she'd just done the same thing in 1x01, putting her troupe in danger, so of course she's extra (somewhat fairly, somewhat unfairly) miffed at new mage boy repeating her mistakes as well.

Games (and chess) are all about patience, exchange, and sacrifice. We know now that the cube is something powerful, why it is, what it unlocks, and why Aaravos has the incentive to want it back (which as stated was an assumption before).

But the fact remains that the game motif has been tied to the cube to the start and continues to be. Callum's test of either playing into Aaravos' hands and coming back from it (the option that I lean towards) or outright rejecting it again cannot be fulfilled until the cube pawn intro has come full circle.

So let's talk about

Neon Lights, Narrative Set Up and Pay Off (6x03, S6)

As you can garner from this meta and any of my previous ones that have touched on this theory, there were a lot of assumptions that had to go into it. I had to assume, prior to season six, that Aaravos would even want the cue back. I had to assume, prior to season four, that the Rayla-Aaravos Callum-Viren foils thing was happening on purpose and that Rayla would be put in opposition to Aaravos as the light to his darkness. I had to assume, prior to season five, that S4's emphasis on people doing terrible/misguided things for love through characters like Rayla, Terry, Viren, and Claudia would eventually become a mainstay in Callum's arc 2 character arc.

I had to assume, prior to season six, that the story would eventually be inclined to put Callum in a scenario where he'd have to choose between Rayla and the greater good so directly. After all, while I was confident post-season 2 onwards that, if put in a situation with Rayla and/or Ezran's life on the line, Callum would always do dark magic, that was ultimately a characterization basis. Yeah, I could think that he would go there, but the story was under no condition to go there from a Plot standpoint, ie. assembling the story and plot line so that Callum would be faced with that kind of choice again. They could choose to not explore that aspect of a potential character arc, leaving it technically unknown. My characterization predictions in these scenarios, then, have been routinely consistent, but whether the plot itself would cooperate was entirely up in the air, with some plot evidence existing due to TDP's love of exchanges, trolley problems, and hard choices.

Then 6x03 happened:

To say that I cried/cheered would be an understatement.

This, of course, doesn't necessarily mean that Callum will do what I think he'll do, or that it'll play out in the manner I'm imagining. It does seem blatantly obvious, however, that S7 with the season's synopsis emphasis on sacrifice that both Callum and Rayla will face the choice of whether to sacrifice the other, one after each other: Callum first — as he must do dark magic again in order to be possessed — and then Rayla, tested and finally choosing not to sacrifice something to her, saving him back as a result.

But furthermore, I lost my fucking mind explicitly because it's not just a question of "will you sacrifice me or yourself" (which we know isn't a real question for either of them) but "will you sacrifice me or the world (greater good)" which is exactly what I've wanted for both of them all along. For Callum to put Rayla first the way that he always has, and for Rayla to (subsequently) put Callum first as a sign of growth/character development. (This also ties into Rayla's whole thing in s6 of taking the lessons Callum's taught her about how to love and implementing them with him in turn or with others, but that's a meta for another day.)

Now, there are alternatives that there could be / ways to get around the 'greater good' slice of the pie, which I'll talk about later under the Alternatives subheading.

For now, I just want to assert the narrative set up and potential we have so far in a plainer way:

The Knowledge Detour

We know that Aaravos wants the cube (6x09) and we know he knows that Callum has it (4x04, 5x08).

The game motif and key motif have been directly related to dark magic (2x07, 2x08, 4x04 "play right into my hands," 5x08, 6x06, etc).

The Key itself is also related to secrets (2x06), the secrets of primal magic (2x01), and thereby knowledge / answers to the 'Mystery' of Aaravos.

This is also related to the idea of knowing too much or having too much knowledge being dangerous (which you can read more about here, although it's pre-S6 so it doesn't touch on everything presently that it could have).

After speaking with Rayla, Callum tries and fails to give up the cube to assert his own destiny / that 'destiny is a book you write yourself' (4x07)

Callum, like Rayla, will be forced to make a choice between the greater good and his loved one. He will choose her even if that means sacrificing himself on top of the world, and she will save him (symbolically refusing to sacrifice herself).

[Gestures to the rest of the cube / key foreshadowing]

I also want to talk a little bit more about mystery. I touched on it here in a previous meta (Rayllum's potential S7 arc through the lens of S6), but there's an emphasis in S6 on mysteries versus love, with love winning.

I would tell you that the vast mystery I travelled the world to find was contained in you all along. (6x03)

Those few short years with Leola were the most meaningful. Pondering the deepest mysteries of the universe could not hold a candle. (6x09)

Both of these sentiments are similar and apply to Rayla and Aaravos directly: she wanted the security of knowing Viren was dead only to return home to the one thing she wanted ("the best thing I ever had: you"). Likewise, Aaravos had the best and most meaningful years of his eternally long existence when he was with his daughter, where his study and pursuit of magic / universal mysteries ultimately paled in comparison. While it is ordinary parent behaviour as well, Aaravos being away from Leola because of his key and book upon the moment she's taken has layers, as well as how he torments Sol Regem specifically with a mystery concerning love:

We see 4x01 establish two mysteries for Callum that run throughout the rest of the arc thus far. The first is the mirror ("What secrets are you hiding?") which is a stand-in for Aaravos, and then Rayla, even once she returns ("I don't know how to feel about Rayla, either").

These threads run in parallel throughout S5 and S6 (Rayla specific one only here). In season 5, Rayla kicks off both Callum's desire to discover how to kill Aaravos (5x01-5x05) and his new understanding of himself in the Ocean arcanum through their relationship (5x01, 5x04, 5x08). In many ways, S5 is him realizing that he will always be there for her, no matter what the cost — even if that means taking a step closer and making himself more vulnerable to Aaravos.

In season 6, Callum is grappling over the Starscraper / Nova Blade as well as worries of how Rayla will respond to his dark magic use. He worries that Aaravos will use him: "I don't know how, but I'm afraid he... he's gonna use me." The mystery he does solve within the season, then, is suitably what is his one truth — what does he know, without a shadow of a doubt, beyond and above anything else? If S5 is Callum realizing he will always be there for her regardless of anything that's happened or could happen, then S6 is him realizing that Rayla will always be with him (regardless of whether she's physically there or not) and will come back to him.

The reason I'm tangentially emphasizing this is because Callum is a knowledge seeker, inherently — he wants to learn magic and he wants to use magic, and that has always been one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses (ie. going out into the Storm, being unable to throw the Key away). The Mystery of Aaravos through figuring out the Key's secrets will be just about undeniably important, and while Callum might not get obsessive about solving it, the Key still represents that curiosity and desire to Know—the mystery he's chasing and has continued to chase about the world. Knowledge or love (giving up magic to save Zym and Rayla by proxy), and on occasion ("How did you—?" "Cause I love you, Rayla" / "To love is simply to know this") both at the same time, just as Rayla's arc has routinely centred on the push and pull and occasional reconciliation of love and duty.

Rayla's advice in 4x07 made him nearly throw the Cube away, or give up that Knowledge seeking quest. This doesn't mean that Callum should give it up entirely (I've said this in many places, but I think by the end of S7 Callum will likely have the Key and Book as his own rather than Aaravos', paralleling his reclamation of himself and his identity) but the current framing of 4x07 begs the question of "What would you give it up for?" What would you sacrifice this knowledge or curiosity for? Because we know, typically, curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge isn't enough for Callum; he won't "risk his life for magic" (2x04) and views that as being an idiot, but he'll launch himself off the Pinnacle. He'll do things for love that he won't do for magic; he'll be motivated to find knowledge and walk down those paths because of love. Just curiosity, typically, hasn't been enough.

Speaking of which, let's talk about

Tests of Love (Leola, Chaos, and Love)

The game motif and its connection to other aspects of the series—the stage motif (Aaravos and Callum's bowing / "destined to play right into my hands"), dark magic ("You had a lifetime to play with your toys and now you hide them all away or destroy them" / "I'm afraid Aaravos is toying with us")—and indeed the concept of tests ("We all want peace and we all want love, but violence tests us" / "They aren't games, they're tests") had always felt conducive to Aaravos' character, thanks to his statement in 2x09:

You tried to win over the other humans with loyalty and friendship, but they ignored you. Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear.

Even before S6 aired, this statement already made sense—while Viren was motivated by his quest for power and importance, and that was what Aaravos seemingly preyed on, when at the core of it was Viren's desire to be loved and to matter:

I am having some trouble getting people to listen to me. To hear the importance of what I am saying. [Who are these people?] They are kings and queens, the other leaders of the Pentarchy. (2x09)

[To Harrow] What? No, that's not what I'm saying. Please, listen— (1x03)

It is everything to me, to know that I mean something to you. To know that I matter. It's all I ever wanted. (5x02)

Aaravos was able to give them something they wanted very badly. (4x04) / Search your heart. There is something you want very badly. (2x09)

Aaravos' entire manipulation of Claudia has also been based around love—encouraging Viren to lie to her so she wouldn't break away from him and subsequently preying on her desire to keep her family together, dangling Viren's life like a carrot in front of her for two years, pushing her relentlessly on a 30 day limit, and then telling the tale of his daughter to help her perform a spell (the same spell that Callum is doing miles away) literally out of love by letting her connect it to her father.

We see where this mindset came from, of course, in S6, with Aaravos bargaining for Leola's life on the basis of love/compassion, and then to die in her place, both of which being refused. The Cosmic Council failed his test of love, and now he's out for revenge no matter the cost, as Terry says:

Maybe this started out as a story of love, but along the way, it got twisted. He isn't doing anything out of love. He's doing it for revenge.

We also know that the parallels Rayla already has to Leola are just going to be continued into S6 further.

We also know thanks to S6 that the Cosmic Council considered humans having primal magic to be "the first step in the long, slow spiral to chaos." Callum then having multiple arcanums and presumably one day going to continue to spread primal magic to more humans is definitely something they're going to be apprehensive about. Callum reclaiming the Key and Aaravos' book alongside his own identity/agency would make a lot of sense, but that reclamation is only really possible if those things were stripped away to begin with... and it's likely only one thing could strip away those things from him: the lengths he's willing to go through for love, and how love can also bring him back (much the same way Claudia's love for her family doomed her, and will ultimately likely save her).

Callum, you're the 'Destiny is a book you write yourself' guy. No one can control you or make your choices for you. (4x07)

See? So long as we protect each other, so long as we love each other, you can never control us. (5x08)

To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep. (5x01, 5x08)

Love can save and destroy us, much like how Rayla is the reason Callum took (and may take again) a path of darkness and also lead him back to light (hopefully with help from Ezran). No matter how corrupted or broken, no matter what you've done before, you can be saved and can fix things and at the very least make amends.

Furthermore, if killing Leola for her mercy was what broke Xadia, saving Rayla (and her mercy) will be thematically what helps fix/save it—and also means she can save Callum afterwards, too, since he's the Hope of Xadia and changing the magical scales.

With this basis in mind, let's look at:

Alternatives

For the sake of posterity, the exact events I'm laying out in the above theory is something that looks a little like this:

Rayla is injured and/or dead / on the verge of death somehow

Aaravos (or Claudia) promises Callum can save her if he hands over the Cube

Callum does so and in turn receives the dark magic knowledge he needs to save her

He does the dark magic, and Rayla is saved

Callum is corrupted / possessed and leaves with Aaravos

This lets Ezran and Rayla come together to get him back and resolve any loose ends from their Big Different Feelings about Runaan from earlier in the season

Although Callum did play into Aaravos' hands, he will break free and live beyond Aaravos' perceived use for him, and help defeat him

Now let's talk about alternatives:

Callum doesn't get possessed

This is the only one I'm gonna rule out directly, as I don't think it's likely given the amount of set up and that S7 is Book 7: Dark. You wouldn't have Callum bring up the promise either in 4x07 or again in 6x03 if you didn't want Rayla to be faced with that choice, so he has to get possessed. That at least means a major risk of playing into Aaravos' hands, even if those plans aren't taken to fruition.

Callum gets possessed but not through dark magic use

I've seen positing that Callum could get tainted by dark magic again if he was exposed to the Lux Aurea corruption from a creature or something. I'll also toss one in, which is that perhaps you could be hit with a spell of dark magic of some kind, and have it seep into you—if not from Claudia then maybe Aaravos. Both of these options would fit to me if Callum was pushing someone (Ezran, Rayla) out of the way as that still provides an active choice. It just being happenstance because the characters were randomly attacked in a dangerous area doesn't sit right with me and the show's emphasis on choices and agency even when it would be possible and easier for characters to be more blameless, so I think there will be something along a choice rather than it just being entirely random / Callum's agency being entirely removed. Otherwise, we'd be back entirely to where we were in S4/S5 where he was tainted and open to possession no matter what through no real fault of his own (prior to 5x08); S6 giving him a clean slate also gives him agency about whether he's corrupted or not, and I think it'd be less effective if that agency wasn't utilized.

Aaravos doesn't get the cube

While nothing but canon itself (as it could pleasantly surprise me, and I'd reassess) could change my mind regarding "if Ez or Rayla were on the line, Callum would give Aaravos the key/whatever he wanted to save them" from a characterization basis, that doesn't necessarily mean the plot is going there. For example, I could see Callum just taking the dark magic deal, and then the race is on for Rayla to try and stop a corrupted Callum from delivering the cube to Aaravos. It'd have high stakes, he'd still have some faith that he could make his choice without dooming everyone because she's there to be his safety net, and it'd bring the "I hope it was worth it to you putting everyone's lives in danger" about the cube back but on Rayla's end, as she was the speaker and Callum is worth it.

Rayla gives Aaravos the Cube

I'll admit a set up scenario for this leaves me scratching my head a bit—would Callum be possessed, but Rayla had the cube for safekeeping, and she hands it over so Aaravos would release him? which isn't too dissimilar from some of the central scenario of what I've proposed—as well as it taking away from 1) Callum's agency in breaking free from possession, ironically, and 2) the Cube being his item, not hers. That said, I do expect Rayla to choose Callum over just about everything this season (including possibly the surefire safety of the world) and for the season to do the legwork to get her there from a character development standpoint, so it's not out of the question. It just currently seems unlikely.

Callum doesn't pick between Rayla or the greater good, and has a third path instead

This one is interesting to me, mostly because I'm not sure how it'd fit into the season pacing wise. As stated, I think Callum has to get possessed in the season, as that plotline has too much buildup to get dropped. I suppose that could mean something like 1) he's corrupted through other means (see bullet point number two), 2) Rayla + Ezran saves him from possession, and 3) afterwards, he's presented with a choice between her and the greater good? That could take us to the finale where he's able to find a way through Aaravos' machinations to avoid making that choice, but it does mean until that moment Callum has had little to no agency (and therefore little to no character development) in our final season of the arc. That could reflect the possession plotline's lack of agency, even if it doesn't feel quite congruent with S6 handing Callum back his full agency, but... shrug emoji?

To me, the clearest third path between not sacrificing Rayla or the greater good would be "Callum sacrifices himself in order to take down Aaravos" which could mean unlocking a super dangerous arcanum he might not come back from (Stars would probably fit best there, but Sun or Moon too?) OR doing dark magic to defeat Aaravos; the latter in particular would be a strong Viren parallel to 6x08. We would get the self sacrifice and corruption slant, but it would be without the actual possession part, even if his corrupted form would be undeniably dangerous. It would mean that Rayla is saving him without risking much else, though, which lessens the impact of her arc. This first arcanum avenue would work for a finale, with the dark magic avenue being reserved for mid season (7x04 to 7x07) as a possibility.

If there any alternative theories or ideas you've seen or have that I haven't addressed here, feel free to send them in or leave them in reblogs/replies (I definitely could've missed one, or misrepresented one)—so long as you're earnestly presenting one, and not just wanting to see it debunked because you think it's stupid and/or that people who like it are silly or foolish.

Conclusion

So, in conclusion, CHET as fully and currently posited:

Explains hy the cube is in Callum's pawn intro

Furthers set up with the cube and game motif (+ others) throughout the show

Explains he'll be corrupted and how the possession plotline will come into play

Deepens the series' theme of exchange (i.e. bringing Zym home in return for peace) and transaction (dark magic)

Culminates the setup from 4x07, 5x08, 6x03, and 6x06 in particular

Reaffirms Callum's struggle with losing his sense of self amid dark magic use and Aaravos' hold on him with literally losing himself

Allows Callum to reclaim the cube alongside his own identity once he has broken free

Develops his relationship with Rayla, as well as Rayla and Ezran's dynamic

Culminates Callum's arc in exploring Arc 2 (and the series') main theme of "love can destroy you, yes, but it can also save you" / arc 2's focus on reconciling dualities, as discussed

And I think that's about it!

If you made it through all of this—or indeed have enjoyed this pet theory for any of the 4+ years it's existed—thank you for reading and engaging with it! It was crazy to me after S5 and especially S6 that it was still on the table rather than being decidedly demolished, and I'm excited to see parts / pieces likely come to fruition in S7!