#and it pisses me off extra that it’s mainly women doing it

[musclesandhammering]

Queer women are the main culprits of fetishising mlm relationships (both real and nonexistent ones), and I think we’re all scared to admit that.

[skywlker-sluvtt]

Okay Modern Anakin at the bar. Wearing EYELINER

RAHHH I WILL NEVER GET OVER EMO ANI

I lovedddd Life as a House just cause Hayden was a little emo baby. seeing him in eyeliner n shit made me 😩 it honestly pissed me off when he stopped wearing it like it was so hot.

Modern Ani would be so goth and id kill a nun just to be in his vicinity. Now I'm turning this into a whole lot of headcanons for emo anakin.

｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡

➮ anakin just knows he’s a hot emo slut and loves finding people who fuck with it

➮ especially goth girls or boys he doesn’t mind.

➮ he’s also wearing a slutty little crop top showing off his belly button and lower stomach. my fav modern/emo ani headcanon is his piercing obsession. he’s got a nose ring, eyebrow piercing AND one singular nipple piercing. not only would he love getting piercings he loves seeing girls n guys with piercings his favourite are septum rings. mayb a clit piercing

➮ his little emo self loitering around a club/bar with a cocktail while eye fucking strangers cause anakin knows his pretty eyes work wonders on people.

➮ and he never fucking approaches anyone because he’s got people running to him. its a little ego boost for himself knowing he doesn’t even really have to make much effort to get someone. all he’s gotta do is eye fuck.

➮ absolute god at flirting by the way or even just getting a girl flustered. he does that hot thing guys do when they’re hella tall and lean down to hear you 😍 or letting out an extremely hot breathy laugh at something you said.

➮ he lives for praise. though this is literally canon for every kind of anakin ever. emo anakin just needs extra positive affirmation. mainly about his looks. it makes him happy hearing people call him ‘hot’ or ‘beautiful’, especially at a bar scene when someone’s asking to take him home cause he’s so pretty

➮ would also definitely fuck or get fucked in a bar or club toilet because he’s not opposed to it at all.

➮ loves it when a girl rides the fuck out of him in the back of a car. he’d 100% ask a woman to fuck in the back of his shitty car and duh ofc she says yes. but emo ani adores dominant women that want to take control and tell him what a good little emo boy he is.

that's all for now cause i just realised how messy this was sorryyyyy

[alistairssock]

Every day I grow increasingly disappointed and mad that the body options in BG3 are so limited when it comes to their bodies

I complain a lot about all the male companions having rippling abs (first off: why??? second off: the hell¿¿¿). While most the female companions have hourglass shaped bodies with uber perky tits facing the sky. Except Lae'zel and Karlach. Lae'zel being weird and lanky yet strong, gitting her being githyanki and a warrior. Check. It's good, I really like that about her, it makes her interesting and unique. Her tits are even slightly diffrent than the others. Karlach? I could never slander Karlach. She's perfect. Hope she can continue to piss off whiny gamer boys who are afraid of muscular women taller than them. Or awaken something in them. Either option is fine.

But the main thing that bothers me is that we're living up to this insane beauty standard that is so implimented into our society that it's so to speak impossible to un-stick from video games. It's a sick and twisted cishet gamerbro fantasy, rubbed into our faces. It's lazy and boring, and lacking of flavor and I'm so so tired of it. And don't get me started how unrealistic most their bodies are compared to what they do and how they've lived and who they are. That could easily be a whole other wall of a text post.

Thing is, I wouldn't mind this as much if the 'standard' bodies were just one of many options. If these body types were just one of many and not the default on every single character model. There could be a custom option/sliders to adjust the character's bodies to your own vision and preference. Though, I do wish it would come with a lot more diverse bodies to begin with (baseline for npcs, and that isn't much to ask for, they clearly have the power, but are not willing to wield it). Hell, even a height slider would be good. Not all player/non-playable characters abide to the standard set body options; that is simply ridiculous when you think about it.

It does however bother me extra much because it's such a cowardly trap both Dragon Age - and probably also other fantasy games (and let's be real, most video games in general) - and now Baldur's Gate fall into. Men are square and burly, and women are hourglass shaped and dainty in comparison, no matter the race option (cough, cough I'm looking at the dwarves mainly). Dare i say The Ideal Male Body and Sexulised Version Of What Most Women Look Like. The only two genders. They do have given us muscled options, for which I'm grateful. But they are mostly just "would you like to be bigger and taller?", and that's it. Essentially same body, just streched out and slap some muscle in it, no problem. But seeing as it's in a fantasy world very much like our world (as in...people are people, living their people person lives), there should be a lot more bodily diversity. Fat people should exist, and they shouldn't be limited to antagonistic characters. We all see why that is wrong and fucked up, right?

It is progressive in it's ways, of course. The fact you can mix and match genitalia to body is a huge plus in my book. Pronouns are also super epic. Not much to complain about on that front, not many gives us these options. It's a small step for gaming, a huge step for humanity, or whatever.

It might be a lot to ask for to have options that include and embrace every aspect of the human experience. I do want more disabled characters in all shades and colours, I do want more fat characters in all shapes and sizes, I do want better and more hair for poc characters. The list goes on forever. So while I'm grateful for what we have and know and acknowledge and mourn it's not a perfect game by far (by wishes and just as a fact), I do appreciate what has been offered us so far. I just need to get this all off my chest, air out some thoughts

[friedchickenluver]

I feel like it takes a while for the general populous to warm up to Zuko as Firelord and that’s mainly because of the last 100 years + his fathers reign didn’t really do anything to help the situation but he later becomes the people’s firelord and that’s with the help of his wife he drags him to charity events and with the backing of team avatar.

Now, Zuko was raised around politics but there’s a period about 5-10 years within his rule where he staunchly disagrees with his advisors mainly because they’re still brainwashed and under the spell that Ozai started with “restoring the fire nation to its former glory.” He later ends up just starting over and picking a new cabinet making sure to have at least one representative from each nation to chime in for rebuilding efforts.

Let me tell you though Zuko hates celebrations for himself and his achievements but when it’s his wife’s birthday and don’t get me started on their children. It’s like a national holiday the parties for them are magnificent.

As far as how powerful he is? Behind every great man is a far greater woman. A lot of his plans he runs by his wife before taking it to the advisors because she just knows that they’ll peddle him bullshit and depending on the day Zuko will agree so he can leave but she’s here to shut that shit down.

Now I know we joke that Izumi, the twins, and baby boy are spoiled. But I’d like to think that Zuko does take the time to bring them up as humble as possible and that’s thanks to Iroh having a big part of raising him and when they were settled in the earth kingdom for a bit. -🧚🏽‍♀️

HEAVY ON THE STARTING NEW PART . he got fed tf up with those old dudes who cared not about the country, but power and Zuko was like “fuck this shit, these mfs are UNFIXABLE.” (😂) he fired everyone after the first years of his reign because they actually began to like piss him off . Except two, which are my OCs Midjair and Indy, who were both apart of Ozai’s secretary and Zuko ranked them both up to major advisors . At first they were so traumatized from Ozai’s serving time and had some of his ideologies engraved in their head . but eventually they both showed that they were fixable and so Zuko kept them .

He’s so hellbent on making sure everyone has a say in how things run between countries and within the Fire Nation itself . I feel like he would also renovate a good portion of the castle just to make it look less depressing and intimidating .

He absolutely despises his own birthdays, like everyone including his wife will like beg him to allow them to throw a party or something for him . she’s trying to loosen him up some because he’s such a hard ass it’s basically impossible to gesture him into having some type of fun . BUT FOR THEM, oh the whole nation is going to hear about it, you should’ve seen Izumi’s sweet 16, they had to plan it a year in advance because she’s so extra like her mom . Their birthdays or him and his wife’s anniversary will be like week long events the whole country is celebrating, including endless amounts of gifts and cards, etc .

And of course Zuko would have to run down over major decisions he makes with the advisors, because as politics is mainly still a male predominant occupation, he needs an intelligent women’s opinion to make sure all side sound fair and just . And if those men ever try to convince her that her opinion is wrong in any type of way , oh she WILL shut they ass down before they can utter another word . Zuko knows it’s best if you never try his wife like that . LMAO

The kids are definitely spoiled like they just so happened to born in the right family because they get almost any and everything they can ask for . But zuko will always be quick to teach them that life is beyond anything more than material possessions and wants and needs, he will take them on visits to hang out with iroh just so they can get a slice of his wisdom . Because it’s important that they learn all factors of life before they have to guide themselves on their own journey . (🥹)

At the end of the day, Zuko will always be regarded as one of the best looking Firelord history has seen for a while . And even in times of doubt his family will always be quick to reassure him that he’s doing great and they all love him .

[mack-and-cheese]

“I have a great family,” I think to myself, as I read fanfiction after fanfiction about found family at 2am

[sinner-as-saint]

Can’t Stay Away From Me.

Cherry!Seb (mob!seb) x Stripper!reader. 

What is ‘cherry!seb’? Basically just mob!seb but like, daddy-er. (click on the tag for more)

Run-through: You've known the mob boss for a while now. He’s a regular at your club, and you are his personal favorite, everybody knew that you were his girl. You two have definitely broken the ‘no sex on premises’ rule many, many times. And although he called you his, you two were never officially a thing. So when he mysteriously doesn’t show up at the club for weeks, you decide to just put the hurt aside and move on. But the mob boss comes back from the dead just in time. And he doesn’t like what he sees. So he reminds you that you belong to him. Just him. 

Themes: smut, stripper!reader, angst, dirty talk, slight daddy kink, swear words, fluff

a/n: I wrote a hc quite similar to this last year or something, I read it recently and thought why not turn it into a fic since many of you have been missing Cherry!Seb lately. Enjoy!

You stared at yourself in the mirror of the dimly lit locker room. You were alone in there, all the girls had stepped out already. You gently touched the diamond choker you always wore and adored, your fingertips grazing his name upon it. 

His name. His choker. His girl. Everybody knew that. You were his girl so you had certain privileges that the other girls didn’t have. But you never took advantage of the power you had, mainly because you had fun with your job, but also because most nights over the past many months, you spent with him. And you loved every single moment. 

You sighed for the fifth time as you stared into the mirror. Tonight marked a little over three weeks since Seb last showed up at the club. You had no idea where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. And it hurt, bad. 

At first you were worried about his whereabouts, then by the second week you were annoyed and now all you had energy for was anger. Clearly he didn’t care, perhaps he was out there having the time of his life with other women and here you were sulking over his mysterious departure. 

Over the past weeks, you gained quite some new clients. Some new regulars as well. You did some champagne rooms, and earned decently well. But you didn’t make as much money as you made with Seb. 

You decided to stop acting like an overly obedient pet waiting for its master. You had to work and earn, like you did before him. 

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and then went on to take the choker off. It would be humiliating to be proud of being his girl and wear his name on your neck while he was out doing God knows what. 

You tossed the choker onto the dresser with a heavy heart and walked out of the locker room, deciding to just be yourself tonight; the same beautiful, confident woman you were before meeting him all those months ago. He hadn’t been back in weeks, who knows perhaps he might never come back here. 

When you walked out, you noticed all the eyes on you. You looked good and you knew it. You sent some smiles around, some winks, a couple of flirty lines and by the time you made it to one of your regular clients, you had already earned some money bills. 

Your client tonight was an older gentleman. He was not like the typical, lousy businessmen who came by your club often. But he was very giving. The moment you settled on his lap he tucked a bundle of cash into the waistband of your thong, that alone earned him a lap dance to a sensual song. Besides, you were feeling yourself tonight so you were extra good today. 

You were carefree. You felt confident, and beautiful and sexy and you could feel all the eyes on you tonight. You danced like there’s no tomorrow. Your client was so satisfied he even put his golden chain on you at some point. You felt spoilt, so you gave him your best obviously. 

Amongst all those stares you got, one of them burned the most. You could feel the vibe around you change. You discreetly scanned the room and met with a pair of eyes you least expected. Stormy, ocean blue ones which made you tremble in both fear and hunger. 

Surrounded by his loyal guards, he stood there looking like a god; expensive, dark suit, the button of his shirt carelessly undone - he looked delectable - gawking, unable to believe that his precious babygirl dared to sit on another man’s lap. He was furious, and you could tell by the way he was shooting glares at you. 

Guess you didn’t expect him to just pop out of nowhere. But you didn’t let his presence ruin your mood right away. You maintained eye contact with him as you moved salaciously across the man’s lap. Biting your lip and being as inappropriate as you could; breaking all of Seb’s rules. 

He noticed it all. How you weren’t wearing his collar, how your dark red outfit was ridiculously revealing, how your body moved just to torment him, how you captured everyone’s attention. The more he looked at you, the angrier he got. 

You held his stare, daring and confidently. He decided not to cause a scene at your workplace so he simply pointed towards the corridor which led to the champagne rooms and walked off in that direction, expecting you to follow immediately. 

You could do so. You could drop everything and run to him because you missed him so much. But you purposely didn’t. He had made you wait over three weeks, he could wait some more minutes you thought. 

Meanwhile Seb was fuming inside the room. How dare you? Most of all, how dare that guy touch you like that? He couldn’t wait to have that talk with you and remind you that you belong to him and only him, because it seemed that you had forgotten. 

After finishing up your dance, you took your time and gracefully moved away from the man. You didn’t take off the golden chain, you didn’t take out the bundle of cash tucked into your thong either; you walked into the champagne room just like you left the man earlier - a little flushed. 

You knew which room he was in since his guards stood outside the door. They let you in and judging by their faces you could tell that their boss was in a bad mood. And you intended on making it worse. 

“Have you lost your way? Are you sure you’re in the right place?” You sassed, upon walking in. You took in his appearance for a moment or two and realized just how much you had missed him.  

Seb sat on the dark red couch, manspreading like it was his throne; quietly sipping on his liquor while his piercing eyes shamelessly roamed your body. The ridiculously bright neon signs behind him were the only things illuminating the room, buzzing slightly. Seb took his time and studied you; torn between loving and hating what he was seeing. 

Your lingerie drove him insane. Your excuse of a see-through cover up did too. Your slightly smudged dark lipstick made him want to ruin it even more, but the thought of where your lips had been were making him even angrier. 

He hated the sight of the golden chain around your neck, replacing the very expensive diamond collar he had given you a while ago; with his last name on it. That was a gift you were meant to wear all the time; to remind you and everyone else that you belonged to him. The mob boss was very possessive when it came to you, and now here you were, disrespecting him. 

But the thing he hated the most, was the bundle of cash tucked into the waistband of your underwear. And he knew that you were purposely showing it off. 

You caught the way his jaw clenched as his eyes roamed your body. He was thinking, plotting. You felt hot under his gaze. You had always loved the way he looked at you, like he owned you. He looked at you the same way, but right now he was pissed off as well.  

Seb had missed you. He even hurried his way back, eager to find you and have you on his lap while he finally touched you and told you all about the time he’d been gone. But instead, he returned to find that his girl had defied him. He felt betrayed. 

“Come here.” He simply said, authority dripping from his words. You could tell he was annoyed and troubled by what he saw out there but he had brought this upon himself. You stayed put despite his very clear order. You didn’t move a muscle. He sighed and rolled his eyes before staring deep into your soul again. “Babygirl,” he sounded threatening, “I said, come here.” He pointed to his lap. 

You approached him, knowing he would be a pain in the ass after all that he saw. But you knew he’d eventually give in because he had said it himself, he can’t stay away from you for too long. Neither could you honestly, and that was why him being gone for so long hurt so bad. 

Seb watched you as you slowly walked over to him, and before you even came to a full stop in front of him, he reached out and pulled you into his lap; gripping your jaw to make sure he had your full attention. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” you slapped his hand away, surprising both you and him. You had never acted this way before. Usually you craved his touch. You did even now, but right now you were angry at him too. 

Seb growled as he pulled you closer and placed his hand back to your face, gripping your jaw harder this time and it hurt just a little but nothing compared to how you had felt this whole time he’s been gone. 

“Why are you being such a brat, huh? And what the fuck do you think you were doing just now, outside?” He asked, using the same tone he used when dealing with his rivals. Just a tone of pure anger and annoyance. 

Normally he was sweet and gentle with you, so this was new for you. But you wouldn’t give in so easily. You scoffed. “My fucking job is what I was doing! Now go get fucked somewhere else! I’m not your little toy!” You were mad too, and your anger camouflaged the hurt. 

You tried to get off his lap but he wouldn’t let you move. His grip on you was firm and strong. 

“Watch that tone with me, babygirl.” He threatened. This was the second time you had been entirely disrespectful while talking to him tonight. Seb was so close to losing his cool. 

“Or what?” Just two very bratty words from you was enough to make him lose his mind, and his calm and composure. 

Within a second he flipped the two of you and he had you pinned down on the couch beneath him. He held you by the neck gently, wrapping his long finger around your throat and applying the slightest bit of pressure which made you gasp softly. 

“You will not disrespect me like that. You know I don’t tolerate it.” He reminded you of his inability to put up with disobedience. 

You chuckled, mocking him. “And what are you gonna do about it? I have nothing to lose, Seb. I’m just a toy for you to play with, just a whore, or just an easy fuck on most days, aren’t I?” You sounded as though you were questioning his power, insulting him and hurting him at the same time. 

How dare you say that? How dare you assume that you were nothing but those things to him? You meant so much more to him, and you had no idea. Of all the people in his life, you were the only one who didn’t spend time with him out of fear. You were the only thing which he looked forward to almost each day. 

The mob boss was not good at being affectionate, so he thought that perhaps showering you with gifts and money would convey how much you meant to him. But apparently not, because you still dared to say such things right to his face. And upon hearing those things, something in him flipped like a switch. 

You saw it in his eyes; wild, and determined. 

“Just a whore, huh? Well, let me show you how I treat one,” he whispered before going absolutely feral. 

He tore off your lingerie in less than a few seconds. And you let him. You were mad, but you had missed him too and the truth is you’d take whatever he’d give you. He was mean, and dangerous and unpredictable but you loved him. Oh you loved him, and his cold heart and his dark soul. 

While he tore your clothes off your body, your shaky hands tugged at his suit and his shirt too. You could feel his hunger, and him yours. He wanted nothing more than to just be slow, and loving and love you and tell you just how much he missed you. But before all that, he needed to teach you a lesson. 

“I was stupid to even give you any attention.” He kissed his way down your naked body, kissing and nibbling on your skin as he went. “Should’ve left you out there, to be used like a little whore.” He mumbled, growling under his breath through clenched teeth while he parted your legs and settled in between them. 

Your breaths were short and fast as you looked up at him towering you. You had missed the sight of him above you, all big and strong. In less than a minute, he had his erected cock out in his hand. And the sight of him stroking it ever so gently made you whimper in need. 

“I was stupid to even put you on a fucking pedestal, and call you mine. I leave for some time and you get back down to where you truly belong. Guess whores never learn, huh?” He was quick to push himself in you, not even bothering about your whimpers and moans. 

You dripping wet core gripped around him immediately. Your body arched off the surface of the couch as you gasped and moaned. He supported himself above you and smirked as he saw your face morph into a frown. 

“Nothing...” he pulled out and pushed back into you again, “...but a fucking toy for me.” He repeated your words back at you as he sped up and pounded into you, making you moan wantonly in pleasure. He knew his words were a little harsh, but he wanted you to feel how he felt when he walked in to find you on someone else’s lap. 

You whimpered at how good he felt. He quickened his pace. He was relentless. 

“Guess you’ll do anything for money, huh?” His hand came down to grab you by the jaw again, forcing you to open your eyes and look into his deep, blue ones. “Tell me, did he fuck you like this as well? Did he touch you like daddy does? Did you let him?” He asked as he merciless pounded into you. 

You could only moan in response, and he got the answer he needed. He knew your body, and judging by the way you moved and squirmed under him and the sounds you made, he could tell no one had touched you since he’s been gone.  

“All fucking mine,” he growled as he let go of your face, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He grabbed the golden you wore and yanked it off you, throwing it somewhere on the ground behind him. 

You moaned out loud, struggling to keep your eyes open as it started to water. But the moment your eyes started to close, you felt a gentle smack on your cheek. 

“Look at me,” he leaned down to bite your mouth, “What is it? You can’t take daddy’s cock?” He taunted. “But isn’t that what whores do? Hmm?” he growled, “Shut up and take it then, take all of me. What else is a whore good for, huh?” He moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his teeth or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly.

You moaned as he fucked deeper into you. You whimpered at the intensity of his thrust, and he kept going. You cried out as the pressure built up nicely in between your legs. Seb moaned at how your walls gripped his cock and milked it. 

You felt him too; deep inside you, touching you everywhere you wanted him too. You felt your tears fall down your cheeks. You were close...so close…

“Please… please daddy...” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…”

Finally, your body betrayed you and you came all over his cock without any warning. You squirmed and moaned incessantly as the pleasure washed over you. Seb didn’t slow down, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. 

You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core. He fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the couch. You felt your second release approaching while you recovered from the first one. 

“Look at me,” he mumbled as he noticed your eyes were closing. You fought the need to shut your eyes and stared into his blue ones. “You’re mine. My little whore,” he growled as he sped up, “My girl,” he let out a grunt, “Mine. You hear me?” 

You nodded. Your body trembled as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you as he felt your walls clench around him, milking him perfectly and triggering his orgasm. 

Seb came right after you did; groaning and swearing under his breath. He pulled his cock out of you and looked down at the lovely mess you were; his cum dripping out of you. He gently reached down to touch your sensitive and throbbing core, it was wet everywhere. 

He didn’t hesitate before shoving two fingers inside you again. “Just gonna finger my cum back into your greedy cunt. And you’re gonna let me, won't you? You little slut…” he whispered. You moaned at how sensitive you were; you’re body shuddering under him. “You’ll take whatever I give you, huh?” he whispered before he leaned down to kiss your open mouth again. His tongue invaded your mouth like he owned it while he fingered you. 

You were a mess as he fingered you faster, and faster until you came all over his fingers again. You could barely keep your eyes open as Seb pulled your naked body onto his lap. You had missed his warmth so you instinctively clinged to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your face into his neck.

You didn’t mean to cry, but you couldn’t help it. Everything was too much, you felt overwhelmed. Seb’s heart broke at the sound of your quiet sobs. He had been rough, more  than usual, and quite mean too… He was aware of that. 

He stroked your bare back gently, tightening his arms around you. “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked. You didn’t answer. “Baby?” he whispered again, softly. You didn’t respond, instead you sniffled again as you tried your hardest to fight back your tears but they fell anyways. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He spoke again, his voice a stark contrast to what it was just a minute ago. He was gentle now, soft. He was apologizing for everything. 

“You left me.” You finally spoke, voice strained and tired. You sobbed softly, still holding him tightly, “You’re so mean.” 

His heart broke a little more. Once he was done with you, you could’ve easily left and asked him to never show his face around here again, but you didn’t. You needed him as much as he needed you. You stayed because you had no one else, and you needed to be held and taken care of.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ve been away for a long time. I know.” He apologized.

You sniffled again. “Still. You were so mean.” You spoke, pulling away to look at him with tears in your eyes.

He wiped your tears away and pulled you into him. “I lost my mind when I saw you with that guy. You’re mine and you know that. But you still let someone else put their dirty hands on you. How could you, baby?” He was calmer now. 

“I didn’t wanna do it.” you said, pulling away from him to look into his eyes. His eyes were soft and deep; it only reminded you of how much you loved him. 

He was confused by your words. “Do what?” he asked, gently running his hands up and down your sides lovingly. 

You wiped some more tears away and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to perform for anyone else. But I was running out of money, and the rent was due.” You finally confessed. 

“You could’ve just told me that, baby.” he said, sounding more caring than you wanted him to.

You almost chuckled. “You weren’t here. You were gone for weeks, Seb. Besides, that’s my problem, not yours.” You made it clear. But he didn’t like that.

He reached out to grab your face, making sure he has your undivided attention. “You are mine. All your troubles are mine, okay? You don’t have to worry about a thing from now on. I’ll take care of you, and everything else. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Of course you’d forgive him. But just for the hell of it, you said, “No.” and avoided his eyes. Seb sighed, knowing you’d come around eventually. He had you back now and that was all that mattered. 

He took his suit jacket and put it around you to shelter you from the cold air. “You don’t have to worry, you’re never gonna work in this club again.”

You knew that possessive, slightly arrogant tone of his, and it only entailed surprises. “What do you mean?” You questioned further

“I’m buying it. You can run it.” He spoke as if it were nothing at all. He had been thinking about this for a while now. 

You were shocked. “Seb, what-”

He cut you off, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. “You heard what I said, baby.” He mumbled against your skin. 

“Why?” You questioned, looking down at how you straddled his lap. 

“Because I want you all to myself. I want you to be with me.”

You scoffed. “This is how you ask girls out?”

He looked at you and smiled. “Not girls, just you.” He caressed your tear stained cheek lazily. His heart fluttered as he looked at you, he loved you so much. He could find better ways to show it though. 

After talking about it, after he constantly apologized for his previous behavior and a few playful banters later, he got up and offered you his hand to take. 

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied.

“Your home?”

“Our home.” he corrected you. “You’re coming to live with me. I’ve been far from you for too long and I’m done hiding what I feel for you.” You began to say something but he spoke up again before you could say a word. “And I won’t take no for an answer.” 

You smirked. “Why? Haven’t you had your fill just now?” you teased. 

“I have.” He answered as you took his hand and stood up. “But every king needs his queen by his side. And I need you. I’ll keep you safe and happy, and I’ll love you. Forever.”

You gave him a teary smile. “You never told me what suddenly brought you back after three weeks.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours, whispering, “You know I can’t stay away from you, babygirl.” 

[elysianslove]

hi! may i request hcs of the haikyuu boys watching/helping their significant other workout? maybe yoga or just a regular workout? would be sweet if it was all of them but i know there are so many, so mainly kuroo, kageyama, bokuto, oikawa and nishinoya <3 thank you!!

hi anon!! i’m sorry i didn’t do all the boys, but i wrote for the specific boys you requested. if you, or anybody else, wants these hc’s for other boys i’d love to do them hehe. hope you enjoy!

kuroo tetsurō

he’s so excited as soon as you’re like “hey wanna work out together”

like his whole body freezes up and then he just

screams

if you’re already like pretty athletic, he makes everything a competition

but doesn’t actually compete

he just wants to watch you 😏

no fr he’ll be like “i bet i can do more squats than you”

and then just doesnt squat and only watches you squat

this mf 😭

he gets way too excited and puts an alarm at 4;30 am to text you/wake you up to go on a run with him

you: see that’s what we’re not gonna do

if you’re not very athletic or you’re just starting to get accustomed to working out

he is so. encouraging

like sickeningly so

tries his best not to overwhelm you and does really basic workouts with you

but also if ur laying face down on the ground crying “i dont wanna do this anymore” he will NOT have any of it

good luck unsubscribing to his services

he just wants to see you succeed 🥺 👉🏼👈🏼

cooks you the best healthy meals you dont even feel like youre missing out on anything

now

yoga

listen he’s so cheeky

he’s so mf TOUCHY

couples yoga with kuroo >>>>

it’s so funny bc this man is so strong he can do pretty much any move that requires any type of strength but pull out the flexibility card and he will pass away on the spot

he also just likes to watch you do yoga

not just bc he’s a pervert

but also bc it’s just interesting to see you in your zone

buys you yoga pants just bc <3333

“u just wanna stare at my ass”

“how dare you i would never objectify my gf”

stares at your ass <3

kageyama tobio

remember when i said kuroo would make everything a competition but wouldn’t really care

kageyama cares

he’s so annoying youre just trynna have fun working out w ur bf but here he is trynna kill u bc he’s so much better at everything

okay but if YOURE better 🤑

it pisses him off at first but then he realizes he’s pissed off bc ur so hot and make his spine tingle

work outs with him are intense as fuck

like he goes all out

but then he helps you stretch and 😏 it’s worth it

if he’s helping you workout, he’s kinda harsher than he intends to be

and when he realizes that yk maybe he’s being a lil extra

he apologizes and just asks how you wanna do it

spends the night researching hehe 

is encouraging in a demeaning way like “do you WANT to regret not working harder” ur like tobio i swear on my life i will start crying

when y’all are done he does like give u a small kiss and the sweetest smile “good work” and it makes it all the more worth it

about yoga though

when he first watched u he was horny hwbwjwks

he was like oop what is this feeling

but then it clicked lmao

avoids watching you unless you’re doing it privately so he can embarrass himself less

if you invite him to join you it’s just rigorous head shaking but he loves you sm he’ll do anything for you

he just follows your lead and is listening so attentively and is trying to mimic your movements exactly and is so awe oh my god he’s so CUTE

once ur done and ur both just laying on the ground you roll over and kind lean over him and give him a kiss “thank u for doing this with me”

“we should do it more often”

not horny just in love with you <3

bokuto kōtarō

so hyperactive good luck keeping up with him

he’s also like

built

LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN. HIM???? no way he doesnt go crazy w the work outs

if you suggest to work out together he’s so excited and he just does everything normally the way he does at 2.5x speed and you’re just like bruh 🧍🏻‍♀️ slow down

you do eventually find your own rhythm that kinda matches his own

and it’s nice to have him with you because like if you’re at a gym and ur using a device across the room from him he’ll just yell and wave at you and blow you a kiss god i love this dork

after you’re both spent you just sit on the ground across from each other stretching just talking just vibing

gives you a big smooch in between everything if he can

it becomes a really positive addition to your life ngl

if he’s helping you work out

he is actually the fkn BEST

despite him being a work out freak, he doesn’t force that on you in any way

if anything i think he’d be super gentle

so cheerful when encouraging you

and rewards you a lot

too much probably

“20 PUSHUPS BABE !!!! LETS GO MAKE OUT FOR 20 MINUTES”

he doesn’t just say it he really does mean it when he tells you he’s proud of you

loves it when you do yoga

immediately tries to join in

“oouu teach me this move” proceeds to fall on his ass <3

 t’s okay he has a lotta cushioning 😏

he always wants to try the couples yoga moves

he saves them on his phone to show you later and you cant say no bc ur already in gear and the yoga mat is on the ground hehe

(if you watch cody ko and kelsey kreppel’s couples yoga video that’s basically how it goes with you two)

^^^ in one of the moves he has to like lift you up by your arms as youre sitting down and he’s standing and he accidentally just shoves your face into his crotch

you both couldn’t stop laughing until you nearly peed and thats the beauty of love

oikawa tōru

he has to repeatedly ask you if you’re s u r e you wanna work out with him 

if you’re s u r e you can keep up

please hand his cocky ass to him <3 

if you’re athletic, prepare to have him try to one up you every time you do something 

it’s so sweet though cause he’s so determined and he’s sticking his tongue out between his lips and you’re just like baby please what is this 

tells you to lay beneath him while he does push ups so he can kiss you 

you complain about how sweaty he is but really you just want him to take his shirt off <3 

okay two important things i want to go over

one. oikawa does not know when to stop. so, honestly, you probably suggested to work out with him to keep him in check and make sure he doesn’t overwork himself 

please make him drink water and take breaks when necessary :( 

two. his knee :( he would probably need to be very careful and he’ll teach you the correct way to massage it and prep it before he does any critical work 

if you approach him one day about helping you work out cause you’re clueless — yes it will get to his head

but like ??? he’s your boyfriend??? your very athletic boyfriend??? 

who else would u ask tf 😹

anyways he makes a whole like list and shit

organizes it so well with color coding and different handwriting 

keeps you up to date with your progress and always says things like “look how well you’re doing babe!” and gives you a hugeeee hug 

now, oikawa is either weirdly flexible, or not flexible at all

we’re gonna go for the first one for this yoga hc 

joins you randomly and starts doing the poses correctly right away ur like ??? sir ??? 

distracts you. so much. 

“can i have a kiss— another one?— one more— one more babe— okay an—“ 

make out sessions ensued :)

nishinoya yū

actually i think noya would like to be in own zone kinda thing when he’s working out

probably blasting some katy perry in his ears ngl 

but when you tell him you wanna go work out with him?? 

now you’re both blasting katy perry in your ears 

stares. stares so much. provocatively. 

he’s your bf so you get it

but women have come up to you in the gym asking if you’re okay hbwjwkwe

makes you try out his routine while he tries out yours 

“wow babe this is sooo easy” he’s dying dont believe him

you guys probably have a handshake that’s so motivating to do before and after eeekkkk he probably makes you feel SO good about yourself after

takes you to eat the unhealthiest shit he can find after a workout because why not right ? chivalry? undead 😻

if you ask him for help he’ll accept right away

competes with you to help you improve 

“one day babe you’ll be beating me at these with such ease” 

he’s the loud kind of encouraging 

yells a lot

like so much 

body worship all the time <3333

“god u look SO good right now i love you so much” 

this simp i love him sm

anyways. onto yoga 

did i mention he stares 👁👁

because he does 

he already knows you do yoga and he will find out your schedule 

just. likes to watch you tbh 

if you offer to do couples yoga with him he refuses bc he likes the view where he is lmfao 

there are so many tiktoks of him just doing the dances while you calmly do yoga 

it becomes a trend lmfaowjwnsj

anyways yes best supportive bf award goes to noya (actually all of them who am i kidding)

end note; MY BEST FRIEND PAINTED AKAASHI FOR MY BDAY GIFT I STOPPED BREATHING ,,, anyways i hope y’all enjoyed this!! feel free to request some more mwah

[redhairedfeistynerd]

Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 2

A/N:  Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+  Angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words:3500+

Part 1 here

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be re-posted anywhere.

Snow.  

Of all the days to make the largest and final delivery, the sky had to open and drop copious amount of fluffy, white snow throughout the morning, which dramatically turned to rain in the afternoon. The streets were bound to be a disaster and you didn’t have time for this mess.

Trying to slide another box into your SUV was like playing a game of Tetris and one that you were about to lose. With a push, the last piece fit in, but as one went in, another slid out. From the top of the pile, a large box (in painful slow motion) popped out of its comfy home and dropped to the ground, a large splash soaking your left side with cold, slushy water. All the carefully wrapped toys, were now submerged in the grey slush water at your feet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you cried out to the sky and pulled your toque over your eyes. Lifting the wool from your eyes, you stared at the colossal mess at your feet, and tried to swallow down the lump that was quickly forming in your throat. Blinking fast, attempting to avoid that tears that were threatening to pour out of your eyes. What a mess.

“Y/N?” A male voice came from behind you, the sound of slushy footsteps quickly approaching.

Oh no. OH NO.

Not that voice.  

Squatting down once more to try and quickly pick up some of the packages, you stop when two large feet stand in the water beside you, splashing dirty droplets of water in your face.

“Thanks, asshole,” you muttered.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Chris chuckled from above you and offered his hand.

“Get the fuck away from me, Evans,” you shouted, slipping while trying to stand up. You made another attempt to stand and turned to face him, a look of disgust clearly showing across your face.  

“Damn. What exactly did I do to you again?”

“The fact that you are asking, pisses me off even more,” you shot back as you turned around and bent down, wrapping your arms around several sopping packages.

“Gifts for your boyfriend?” He asked, his tone emitting a slice of jealousy.

“These gifts are for the kids, you oaf,” you snapped back.

Chris didn’t have a response but leaned down to pick up a box floating near his feet “Here, don’t forget this one.  I’m...I’m sorry for the snarky comment,” he said biting at his lip, embarrassment running through him. “I didn’t mean to talk to you like that,” he added holding out the small, mushy box to you. “Are these going to the women’s centre? I can help you get them there if you like.”

You stared back at him, trying not to bit your lip so hard in frustration. “I don’t need your help. Please, stay away from me, Chris,” you said grabbing the wet box from his hand. “They’re going to the Neighbourhood House.”

“At least let me get the car door for you, the trunk looks a bit full,” Chris said as he opened the back door.  

Tossing the wet gifts into the back, not caring about the upholstery, you muttered a “thanks” Chris’s way before slamming the door and walking around to the driver's side, stopping to close the trunk on your way. Hopping in, you made the mistake of looking in your rearview mirror as you started up the car, Chris’s smirking face looking right at you. “Stupid good-looking asshole,” you snarled as you drove away from him, trying to ignore the small wave he gave as you drove down the street. Heading back to your office, hoping that your coworker was still there with the other pile of gifts that were ready to go out today to a few local schools.  

The office was quiet, no papers shuffling, no phones ringing. You knew you had missed your chance to switch out some of the gifts before heading over to the Neighbourhood House that evening. This day was not going the way you had planned and if you couldn’t deliver the gifts promised, this day was going to go from bad to worse, very quicky.  

You wanted to blame all of this on Chris, mainly because even looking at his handsome face infuriated you more than anything. But your reasonable side knew that the problems with the gifts had nothing to do with him and you were still holding a grudge from years before. You needed to get this out of your system, once and for all.  

You poked around the storage room in your office for any extra toys; a few boxes remained and you remembered that several gift cards remained – a few of the older kids may want to buy something instead.  

Okay, this will work. This isn’t so bad, right?

Packing up the new gifts in bags and leaving the soggy toys by your desk, you headed back to your car and off to the Neighbourhood House.  

*

“What? Where did these come from?” You gaped at the bags stuffed with tissue paper of every colour, full of gifts. Boxes upon boxes filled the front of the entryway, piled neatly underneath a large tree that almost touched the high ceiling.

“A gentleman came by, maybe 20 minutes ago with all of these, he said that they were part of the delivery you were bringing by this evening.”

“But...I...” Completely confused but relieved that you didn’t need to explain the mess that had happened earlier in the day, you smiled at the shelter employee and made your way back out to your car to bring in the remainder of the gifts.

“Thank you for your kind donation this year, including our staff this year was not expected,” Marjorie the director of the Neighbourhood House gushed.

Was this some alternate universe where gifts started popping up where ever you went. What the hell was going on? Had your team approved an extra donation at the last moment?  

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for you to figure out what was going on. There he stood, inside the main entrance of the building, hands in his pockets, bouncing on his heels, whistling a Christmas song and completely avoiding eye contact.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, walking up to the smirking man.

“Trying to follow in your footsteps and help out the community more? Is that okay with you?” Chris snapped back at you.

Storming out of the building, you rushed to your car, in hopes of escaping Chris. His long strides caught up to you in no time, meeting you at the SUV but before you could put your hand on the door handle, he took hold of your arm and turned your body to face him.

“Why are you so angry at me? All I did after I saw you three years ago, was to send you flowers! Do you hate flowers or something?! I’m trying to figure out what the hell I did to you to make you act this way around me?”

“I have no idea what you’re going on about; you’re absolutely delusional,” you spat at him and went to pull at the handle too fast, ripping back one of your nails. You shouted out in pain, holding your finger tightly with the other hand, face flushing red out of anger and pain.

He reached out, placing his hand on your shoulder, trying to stop you from turning away. “Y/N-

“Don’t touch me!” You shouted, pulling away your arm in disgust, “the last time you did that, you broke my fucking heart!” And with those final words, you pulled on the door handle again, hopping into the car and screaming once more before starting the engine. Your head fell to the steering wheel, hitting your forehead into the it several times while angry words spouted out of your mouth.  

Having no idea what was going on, Chris drove away from the shelter, utterly confused by what you had screamed at him. How the hell had he broken your heart? After spending the night at your place all those years ago, a lazy morning and a wonderful breakfast, he had made his way back home with the promise to see you again two days later. Unfortunately, his schedule had a last-minute change and he had to head out several days earlier than expected. He’d spoken with Scott and begged him to pop by your office and drop off a bouquet as an apology and that he would reschedule when he returned to town the following week. What if...

Chris turned the wheel fast, tires screeching as he maneuvered a U-Turn and headed back towards his house. Once parked, he slammed his car door and pushed his way into his house, the aggression taken out on the door as he slammed it. He immediately headed up to the guest room to find his brother. He found him quickly, the younger Evans sitting back and looking engaged in a book that once sat on Chris’s nightstand. Scott jumped when Chris burst into the room, letting out a scream and throwing the book towards his older brother.

“Chris! What the hell, man,” shouted Scott and got up for the bed to stand in front of his brother.  

“I’ve got something to ask you and you better have an answer that makes sense,” Chris shouted. “What happened when I asked you to send Y/N flowers all those years ago?”

Scott nodded, his eyes looking to the ground, afraid to meet his brother's cold stare. “I... I forgot to do what you asked. I ended up with a call from my agent and was excited about the conversation I had and it slipped my mind. Plus, there were a thousand other things that came up that week. I’m sorry?” Scott apologized, looking up and meeting his brothers' eye, a little smile on his face, looking for forgiveness.

“Scott! What do you mean you forgot?” Chris stepped closer to Scott, almost nose to nose.

“Exactly what I said, I forgot to go by. I had a lot of other things going on that week if I’m remembering clearly. Was it too hard for you to call or message her?”

“I thought the flowers would be a romantic gesture. I can’t believe you never went by, now I know why she doesn’t want me near her. The thing is, when I got back, I did call her and she never picked up.”

“Do you not know how to leave a voicemail? A text? Are you really that idiotic?”

“She just...I just...” Chris couldn’t stop fumbling with his words.

“You’re something else, dear older brother. But I know you can talk and I know you have a romantic side. So, where to start?”

Chris shuffled his feet, embarrassed that he hadn’t given you the time and respect you deserved all those years ago. “I guess I should try to talk to her,” he mumbled.

Scott pushed his right shoulder, “Come on Rico Suave, you can fix this, right?”

“I’m pretty sure after her stewing on this for 3 years, that my chances are nil.”

“Bat those pretty blues and sing to her, I swear, use your Evans charm, or continue being a dumbass, your choice,” Scott shrugged.

Chris shook his head in annoyance and walked away from his brother. Could he fix this?

“So, lover boy, what’s going on in that big head of yours?”

“I’m going to go by her office and I’m going to beg her to come by the house.”

“And what

“I have an idea. What do you think about this...”

*

The chimes jingled as the door to your office opened “I’ll be right with you, I just have to send off this email,” you said. A few more words added and you hit the send button. “Okay, done. What can I help...” You tried to finish your sentence but that cat definitely had your tongue. The second your eyes met the blue eyes of the man you despised more than anything, you couldn’t finish asking your question.  

“Y/N, please, please let talk to you about what happened, or what I think happened. Please,” Chris pleaded, seconds away from falling to his knees and begging.  

You were tongue tied, the snark you could so easily dish out was stuck in the back of your throat, silenced.  

“I’m sorry that I came by work, I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you. You did a pretty good job of blocking me on every form of media and communication I have. When I saw Rosie, I couldn’t help but ask about you.”  

“Why are you here?” you whispered, trying to hold back tears that were fueled by sadness and anger.

“I want to, I need to talk to you about what happened. A few things came to light today, that I didn’t know and I would appreciate if you would take the time to listen and hear me out.”

Before you could try to respond, your phone sang out a tune, the one that you have reserved for Rosie. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you now had an excuse to pull your eyes away from Chris.

Y/N. Please give him a chance. Hear him out, I swear it's worth it.  

“Rosie is in on this too? Why are you involving my friends Chris? I swear, you better make this worth it.”  

“Please. Y/N. After you finish up here, will you come by my place and I promise all I want to do is speak and I’d appreciate it if you’d be willing to listen.”

You needed to sit down. The anxiety building quickly, you couldn’t breathe. “Fine. I’ll come by in an hour. I’ll sit. I’ll listen. That’s all. Deal?”

Chris’s face lit up, a half-smile forming, “Deal, I’ll see you shortly.” He gave a little wave and headed back out into the night.

You sat in your car outside of Chris’s beautiful house, nervous as to what the night was going to bring. After all of these years, what did he need to tell you? Would a simple text not suffice? You took a deep breath and unbuckled your seatbelt, ready to pull off the Band-Aid quickly and get this all over with. Feet finally out of your car, you walked across the gravel drive to his front door, knocking and hearing Dodger bark at the sound. Footsteps followed soon after, the door unlocked, and there, there was the most handsome man you had ever seen (and couldn’t stand).

“I was wondering when you were going to get out of your car. I heard you drive up about twenty minutes ago and I figured you were having second thoughts about coming. I’m glad you’re here though, so thank you.” Chris moved aside and you walked into the entryway, pulling off your shoes and placing the beside the door. “Follow me, we can sit in the front room. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m pretty sure a drink is necessary.”  

“Let me go grab something, take a look around, okay?”  

Walking to the couch, you checked out the little plants and decorative items he had placed around the room. There were some great art pieces on his walls and when you got closer to the couch, the painting hung above it stopped you. “What the...” It couldn’t be, there was no way that he could have known all this time and not have said anything. This man lived to rub shit in your face – the ultimate gloater. In front of you, on the wall above his couch, was the painting you had donated all those years ago to the gallery. Dodger’s nails tapped on the wooden floor, pulling your mind (and jaw) back into place. You heard footsteps following and a tune being whistled as he walked through the doorway, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.

“I thought you might like a glass of this, I...” he stopped halfway to you and realized that you were still standing in the middle of the room, your mouth half open and staring at him. His eyes flicked to the painting on the wall and then back to your face, you could see the look of panic slowly starting to take over. “I...I can explain,” he stuttered taking several steps closer to you.

“How-”

“There was something that was pushing me to find out and that night, I called the owner of the gallery and asked if I could find out which piece you had donated. She was hesitant to offer any details but as privileged as this sounds, I offered to donate a large sum to the charity and buy another painting from her gallery to get the information. I needed to see what you created and once I had it, I couldn’t stay away from you...which is why we kept running into each other the way we did. Please don’t be creeped out.”

“Are you completely forgetting about the whole fuck ‘n chuck moment? You hunt me down and flash your pearly whites at me, make me feel something for you, we get into bed, and poof, you disappear. Care to explain before I get the hell out of here? You replied angrily, your face flushing out of frustration.

“Y/N...”

“Y/N, what? Oh, it wasn’t the right time. I didn’t think it meant anything...”  

“That’s not it, that’s not it at all.”

"Then what is it, Christopher. You never shut up and when I need you to say something, you clam up. What IS IT?” You couldn’t help but shout, you were angry, sad, and had no idea where this was going.

“If you stopped jumping over what I keep trying to say, then maybe I could get everything out. So, for a few minutes, can you keep your mouth shut. Shit, and I thought I was annoying,” he explained loudly.

You nodded; eyes wide that he had raised his voice to get his story across. You were wound up so tightly, incredibly hurt by his action's years ago, that you didn’t exactly know how to contain and cope with your emotions. You took a seat on the couch and looked up at him, still standing where he first entered the room and had stopped when he noticed you looking at your own art in his house. He took a few steps closer and looked to you, “Is it okay if I sit on the couch next to you?”

“I guess...”

Chris sat a comfortable distance from you, placed the wine glasses and bottle on the table and waited until you settled and looked to him to continue on.  

“I messed everything up, I’m taking all responsibility for this giant mess.” Chris sat silent for a few moments, his fingers intertwined and his left thumb rubbing across the right. He was clearly nervous. Clearing his throat and lifting his head up, blue eyes meeting yours, he blinked once and began to speak. “It was never my intention to hurt you. I messed up and badly. When I left you that morning, my plan was to see you again, once I returned home from my work trip. Everything happened so fast that day and to be honest with you, my head was in the clouds; all of my thoughts revolved around you and the wonderful evening I had with you. I was so busy in dreamland, that I ended up almost missing my flight. I asked Scott to help me out and send a bouquet of flowers to you, with a note explaining that I had to leave earlier and that I would call you soon. The thing is, I thought he had followed through and didn’t even know until the other day that he had never sent the flowers or note to you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I did try to call though, when I was home and you never answered and I figured the night meant nothing to you.”

You sat there, silent for a few moments trying to take in everything he had said “Well, aren’t we a bunch of idiots,” you said, looking at him, a smile on your face.

The corner of Chris’s mouth lifted, a smile in there. “Does this mean you forgive me?"

“I mean, I’m still upset but I get that miscommunication can happen and I mean, how many people go as far as calling a gallery to hunt down a painting and then buying it. You’re pretty unbelievable, Evans.”

“But do you forgive me?” Chris asked as he scooted closer to you and let his fingers crawl closer to yours.

You took a hold of his hand and brought it to your lips, and kissed his knuckles softly. “I do forgive you Chris and I hope you forgive me for how hostile I’ve been. I really appreciate what you did for the Neighbourhood House too, I’ve never seen anything like that and you saved the day, so, thank you.” You kissed his hand again and looked up at him, a smile still on his face.  

Chris sighed and watched as you pulled his hand into your lap. “Y/N, is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?”

“That would make me incredibly happy,” you replied and moved in closer, meeting his soft lips again after all these years. “I’m still mad at you though, I hope you know that. And let’s not forget about Rosie. I can’t believe the two of you did this. I’m still mad at her too.

Chris pulled you in for another kiss, running his hands through your hair. “I know. I plan on making it up to you. I’ll help with every event; I’ll clean up your messy office. I’ll even carrying you and your toys through the slush.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and pull him down with you to lay on the couch. “I can’t wait for you to get started.”

[what-the--curtains]

Not a Piece of Art

Part 1/4 - A Grudge Like No Other

(Javier Peña x f!reader)

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Summary: You’re tasked with an impossible mission and an even more impossible partner to complete it with.

Authors note: I have never not once seen narcos all I know if based on other fics I’ve read so pls be kind but let me know if anything’s wildly out of character! Also I’m aware forensics wasn’t a solid discipline (especially DNA fingerprinting) but we’re gonna pretend it is. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged (or untagged) 😊

Tw: Mentions of fake parental death, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.1k

Tagged list: @agingerindenial @diogodxlot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning sun radiates down on your shoulders as you lock the door to your apartment complex behind you. Despite the early hour it was already far too hot, but at least the humidity wouldn’t kick in until the afternoon. You’d been working in Colombia for a few months now, but the heat wasn’t something you’d ever get used to. You weren’t complaining, most days you preferred it to the frigid temperatures that painted your childhood. The frost bitten noses, wool socks and thick snow falls coating tree branches seemed all but a distant memory now. You’d settled on Columbia after your long time best friend Connie convinced you to take the universities offer. She had recently made the move down south and was eager to have you there with her.

She’d told you about the job and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had marched down to the university herself and dropped off your resume. She’d flown up to Brown and helped you pack up your life and then unpack it after your arrival to the terraced apartment Connie had picked out for you both to live in. It was a decent size and the balcony was south facing which gave you all day access to the sun. When you weren't working you spent your time out there soaking up the sun and watering the small garden you had been tending to since your arrival. Your days were primarily spent at the university working out the finer details of the forensics lab you were hired to set up. Your PhD in forensic anthropology has left you with various laboratory based skills, including DNA analysis, making you a coveted asset to the campus. Whilst in school you had also completed an art certificate which came in handy when facial reconstructions were needed.

After everything was in place you began running samples, processing unidentified remains by working on dental ID’s and facial reconstructions, as well as testing for drug residue. Despite being run by the University your job wasn’t as research based as you would have hoped with your work often falling under the DEA’s jurisdiction. You weren't involved in their day to day protocols. You mainly just ran the tests, or identified bodies recovered from the crime scene only conversing with them when it was absolutely necessary. Police work wasn’t in your wheelhouse, and it wasn’t a profession you supported or believed in.

Many faces passed through your workspace all demanding your utmost attention claiming their projects to be the most important. One frequent flyer through the lab was Steve Murphy, who Connie had met down in Miami a few years back. His relationship to your friend was the only reason you had bothered to make an effort with him. A friendship was established between the two of you faster than you had expected, due in part to his easy southern charm, but mainly because he and Connie evidently had feelings for eachother. You always found it easier to get along with men who weren't trying to get into your pants which was, unfortunately, a frequent occurrence in the male dominated discipline you worked in. There was only one flaw you could attribute to Steve, his work wife, the other half of the DEAs “dynamic duo”, agent Javier Peña. You’d never been formally introduced to the man, but his reputation preceded him. His was a face that also made frequent appearances in your lab but you'd never spoken more than three words to each other which was, probably for the best. You had what some might deem a confrontational personality and from what you understood Peña was, to put it nicely, an asshole.

He always came in sporting a more casual look and sunglasses which he kept on despite being indoors, a habit that drove you up the wall. He’d tap the file on the glass to get your attention always making you walk the five extra steps to get to him. You didn’t bother to look up when he passed the beige folders to you just grabbed the file from his hands and added it to the pile on your desk. He’d started attaching yellow sticky notes with “put a rush on” scrawled across them in impatient handwriting, as if his case was more important than the remains you were currently working on identifying. Not talking was a strategic move on your part, you’d heard he was quite the charmer when he needed something done, and you weren't going to let him get away with that. You ran this lab, not Javier Peña. Was your dismissal of him warranted? Maybe not, but your gut instinct was usually right and the rumour mill had painted Peña in a very specific manner. You weren't about to let yet another hot headed alpha male who took “too much male energy” to an entirely new level into your life.

Unfortunately, your knack for avoiding him became nearly impossible when you were called out to work on a crime scene. Despite your refusal to work in the field, the remains couldn’t be moved so you had to go to them. The site was just far enough away that a daily commute would have been tedious so you, along with the dynamic duo and your forensic team were booked into a nearby hotel. You weren't sure what you'd done in your past life to piss off the gods but somehow you’d ended up sandwiched between Steve and Peña. Steve wasn’t the issue, apart from the TV which you’d hear blare spanish dubbed reruns of Miami Vice between 4 and 8 PM, he was a quiet, considerate neighbour. Peña, on the other hand, was neither considerate or quiet particularly during the late hours of the night while you were trying to sleep. Sharing a wall with the agent proved to be an issue, so much so that by the third day just looking at him filled you with such intense rage that you'd given yourself lockjaw.

Every night without fail you laid awake as the exaggerated, bordering on ridiculous, moans coming from whoever he'd enticed into bed that night reverberated through your shared wall. You'd tried it all, earplugs, pillows so forcefully wrapped around your head you were essentially smothering yourself, but the sounds still permeated through the plaster and into your head. On the fourth night when you heard the talking start you knew what you had to do. You furiously wriggle free from your sheets and make your way out into the hallway. You walk one door over and inhale deeply before aggressively pounding your fist on the door.

“Hey” you say, through gritted teeth.

“Hey?” a slightly disheveled Steve murmurs eyes squirting into the hallway’s bright lights as his arms cross clumsily over his bare chest.

“Look I hate to ask but can I sleep on your couch, the walls are thin and...”

“And Peña has a thing for loud women '' he finishes for you, shoulders relaxing as he opens the door up for you “surprised you lasted this long, come in i'll grab you some pillows”

“Thanks for letting me sleep here, I think I may have killed him in the field tomorrow if I didn't get at least an hour of sleep. Also this isn’t some tactic to get you to bed so you can stop trying to cover your modesty” You say wiping your eyes, as Steve drops his arms to his side laughing.

“I know, believe me, besides i'm sure you're aware I’m only interested in one person.” So he did have a thing for Connie.

“You should go for it, I think she'd say yes” you offer, even in your sleep deprived state you were still a pretty solid wingwoman.

“You think?” His eyes light up, further cementing your belief that Steve, despite being friends with Peña, was a good guy.

“Thanks” you murmur as he hands you some pillows and a light sheet. It's not long before the AC’s quiet hum draws you into a deep sleep.

The alarm blaring out from Steve’s room pulls you from your dreaming state, groaning as you squeeze a pillow over your head. Why was it that you always felt worse after getting a good night's sleep? You briefly doze off again only waking as the smell of burnt toast convinces your brain that either a fire has started, or you were having a stroke.

“Tryna burn this place down?” you mumble, relaxing back into the couch cushions as you watch Steve scrape the burnt bits off into the garbage before buttering it and taking a bite.

“You think you got enough sleep to not kill my partner this morning?” he asks between mouthfuls.

“No, but I did get enough to realize if I killed him in the field there'd be witnesses” you remark pouring coffee into a cracked mug. “Thank you for letting me sleep here “

“Anytime, though Javi should be the one thanking me considering I basically saved his life. Lucky were leaving today or I’d have to put him into protective custody.”

“And I'll never have to hear him ever again” you say suddenly feeling a bit better. You were glad for Steve being so accommodating to your needs, especially considering he didn't really know you that well. “Well I should go get ready for the day ahead what it's supposed to be out?”

“A balmy 40” Steve offers, as he washes your cup up in the sink.

“Wow I should have packed my snow pants when I moved down here.” you dead pan, the delivery causing Steve to snort as you exit the room. As you exit, Javier opens his door kissing the woman he’d spent the night with one last time watching as she strides off down the hallway. You don’t see him, but he sees you. Specifically, he sees you leaving his partner's room, and in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, he raised his eyebrows. Good for Steve from what he’d heard half the department had been trying to get your attention to no avail. Your head was always buried in paperwork and your ears were always donning headphones blocking out small talk, maybe he should take a page from your book. He didn’t say anything to Steve in the field, but he did watch you interact with one another. Paying specific attention to how you'd made Steve laugh while photographing the murder weapon. Javi watched as you meticulously gathered up a few finger bones that he'd overheard you saying would be used for DNA fingerprinting. He'd tried to talk to you a few times this trip, but the second he'd stepped in your direction he noticed your jaw clench and your body tense up, not wanting to upset you he decided it was best to back off. After getting what you need you packed up your things and headed back home, with no intentions of ever having to interact with Peña for more than 5 minutes ever again.

Several months later

Your lab was now contracted out full time by the DEA which meant you still got to do research but you didn’t have to teach any teenagers which was quite frankly a dream. Unfortunately, the contract meant you'd now be spending time in two male-dominated fields. The boys club offered little that would qualify as genuine friendship. Turns out the ones brave enough to approach you were only nice to you because they wanted to sleep with you. Something you’d found out after overhearing a less than true story about you from one of the guy’s you’d hooked up with. After that you’d stopped sleeping where you work and started looking elsewhere. Your few short lived romances were mainly found in dive bars only going home with people that had been thoroughly vetted (and vaguely threatened) by yourself, Connie and Steve. Who was now a relatively permanent fixture in your life after finally asking Connie out, and you really didn’t mind it. He was good to Connie and he never minded being excluded when you needed a girls' night without him. You also assumed the decrease in misogynistic talk amongst the agents was Steves doing, you made a mental note to thank him later, as you took another swig of the beer you’d been nursing for the past hour.

Steve was still inseparable from Peña and where he went Javi was sure to follow. Your inability to not become enraged by him meant you often found yourself leaving the room as soon as he showed up, subsequently cutting your Connie time in half. Devastating both you and her.

“You know he’s not really as insufferable as he acts” Connie states, Javi was due to show up any minute which meant it was just about time for you to leave.

“ You're not gonna sell me on this” you say, chewing on a stale nacho chip from food you’d ordered hours ago.

“Seriously, he's almost nice sometimes” your pointed look tells her to drop it. Connie was nothing if not resilient and you were constantly amazed by her. You don’t know how she worked as a nurse. You had a hard enough time with the dead, how she also dealt with the living as well was beyond you. She was a quantifiable saint which was probably why she saw the good in Peña.

“Remind me to never make you mad” Steve says.

“No one holds a grudge quite like her” Connie exclaims

“Awe you say the sweetest things about me” you retort after finishing the last of your beer.

“Alright well I’ve got an early morning shift so we should be heading out, tell Javi I say hi” Connie says kissing Steve before the two of you exit the bar.

“Are you really going to keep up this affront against Javi?” Connie asks, interlinking your arms together as you exit the bar.

“Yes, now please and can we stop talking about Peña even thinking about him gets me riled up”

“I thought you said you hated him” she teases causing you to roll your eyes.

“Please don't make me gag” you say pulling a face that causes you both to break into a giggle fit.

“What up her ass? Seriously, am I infectious or something?” Javi asks, slumping down across from Steve who's filling out paperwork at his desk.

“Well considering your history, probability is pretty high” Steve quips back earning him a thwack to the head with a folder you’d dropped on Peña’s desk earlier that morning.

“You know her, what's her deal, why does she hate me?”

“Everyone hates you Javi, it’s a fundamental part of your personality” Steve laughs.

Javier usually wasn’t one to concern himself with how others perceived him, but his work frequently overligned with yours and he figured his life would be made infinitely easier if he could get into your good books. Sure, at first his intrigue in getting to know you was purely physical. He knew looks aren't everything, but for what he wanted, they played a fundamental part. He wasn’t the only person to have noticed you the day you showed up, all eyes were on you as you walked through the DEA embassy for the first time. Your arrival had sparked a competitive energy amongst the men with the agents often vying over who got the honour of dropping off case files to you. A few were apparently even so lucky to have actually spent the night, at least that's what he’d overheard some agents proclaiming loudly, making him doubt their validity.

He’d cracked down on what some would call “locker room talk” when he thought you and Steve were sleeping together, after seeing you leave his room early that one morning. Though if Steve had been spending nights with you he’d never brought it up to Javi, and after he started dating Connie there never seemed a right time to ask about you, so he let it go. He’d gotten more proactive with stopping it once you’d been hired on full time. He’d upped his guard when he’d caught one trying to cop a feel of your ass the day you had been called in on your day off. You’d come in wearing a skirt shorter than what would be considered workplace appropriate gaining you more attention than usual. He noticed the guys hand drop down low, but any contact was stopped when Javi smashed the guys arm back into the wall behind him. In most cases a move like that would have earned him a swift punch to the face but a simple raise of his eyebrows was enough to get the pervert to sit back down.

Despite the scene playing out a few feet from you, you never noticed carrying on about your day as if nothing had happened, headphones on, paperwork in your arms and various scrawlings across your hand, reminders of meetings he knew you'd be late to anyways. He assumes your chronic lateness was a tactic to spend as little time around him as possible. Your hatred for him was palpable, he wondered if it was as obvious to everyone else as it was to him. He'd noticed how you would stand in meetings when the only seat available was next to him. It was starting to get to his ego. He wanted to know what he possibly could have done to be treated like the scum of the earth by you. He’d heard from Connie that you didn’t like cops, but you got on fine with Steve. Your lives continued on with minimal interaction until the day you were called into the head of the DEA’s office.

“Office now!” your boss shouts from the door. Fuck. What have you done now?

“Hey you need something?” you ask, lips parted and forehead wrinkled, feeling like a child who’d just been called to the principal's office. Your head snaps to the left when you feel eyes boring into you, eyes belonging to Peña. He shifts around in the chair to escape your violent gaze. You turn to Steve who's gazing up at the ceiling.

“I have the dental results here for the missing persons from the case last week, it’s a match, I know it's late but...”

“It's not that,” he gestures his hand to the chair beside Peña and you sit, placing the documents down on the table. Javi cranes his neck slightly, eyes darting over the various statistics strewn across the page surprised you were able to piece it all together.

“You have an art degree right?”

“I have an art certificate” you correct

“and you paint”

“A bit”

“She was featured in local galleries back in the States” Steve pipes up.

“ Good, we need you to go undercover” you snort before laughing aloud. Your amusement quickly fades when you realize no one else was laughing with you.

“Wait you're serious? You want me... to go undercover? I'm not an agent, I can’t use a gun, I don’t think I've even held one before” you say, tearing through all the excuses you could think of.

“You can shoot a bow and arrow,” Steve pipes up.

“Ya very different instrument Steve, also does Connie tell you everything about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You won’t need a gun anyways, you'll have a trained agent with you at all times.” Your boss reassures.

“No. No way! Im sorry but this… this is beyond the scope of my work and my skill set” you assert, not budging.

“You’ve been to crime scenes before, you’ve been in dangerous scenarios, excavated mass graves, we need you you’re the only one who can help with this”

“Why? You have multiple agents out there who would kill to go undercover, why me?” you push

“ Your background, and relative anonymity. There's been an increase in art dealing amongst the sicarios.”

“So what? Maybe they just really like art.” you offer

“Does anyone really like art” Peña pipes up

“ Yes, the whole world actually” you shoot back, successfully shutting him up.

“We think they're using convincing fakes to smuggle drugs without suspicion” Steve offered, helping to clear up the situation.

“Okay... then hire an art expert to go in and see if the paintings are real”

“We need you to test for residue on the paintings, and to recreate one in time for the next move”

“Okay im good, but I am not good enough to recreate a painting worth thousands of dollars.”

“From what I’ve seen you are,” Steve says further cementing your fate.

“What if I say no?” you ask, exhaling deeply.

“Then you're fired” Javier pipes up, once again causing your head to turn to him.

“And who, pray tell, made you judge, jury and executioner” you spit “last time I check Javier Peña wasn’t the one signing my paychecks”

“No, but I am, and you will do this” Your boss's backing of Peñas statement makes the smirk on his face even more aggravating.

“Fine, but just know I will be personally mentioning you all in my will so everyone knows exactly who got me killed, and I'm gonna want a raise, more vacation time and a new piece of lab equipment if I make it out alive. ”

“Fine” you smile feeling slightly vindicated.

“So what's my story? Who am I to have a million dollar painting in my possession?” you ask, as your boss pulls up a document on his computer.

“You’ll go by Melanie Alverez nee Smith, you were born in London England to parents Maria and Calvin who passed in a car accident four weeks after your nineteenth birthday”

“Shit” you mutter, thinking about your own parents who were very much alive.

“You dropped out of Oxford where you were undertaking a degree in chemistry and moved to New York where you began painting. You were a struggling artist for the first two years but received funding to attend Julliard. After graduation your first major piece was accepted by a local gallery and put up for auction. It sold for 10,000$. The buyer wanted to meet you after seeing your photo. He’d sent thousands of flowers to your gallery before showing up and asking you on a date.

“Must be nice” you murmur

“After a whirlwind romance you eloped and moved down to Columbia where you continue to work as an artist.”

“Alright easy enough, short live romance is a good call that can be used to explain why we don’t know certain information about each other.”

“You'll be staying here” A huge spanish style house appears on the screen. Its prestige was only overshadowed by the mansion looming over it from across the private beach. Must be the target's house, you think.

“It was built by the target, he lives there with his fourth wife. He’s rich, sources claims from drug smuggling, they think he may even have direct links to Escobar

“Like, as in Pablo?” you ask, eyes widening.

“Apparently he’s his art dealer. We need you to go in and see what he knows, if it's not enough then test the paintings in their homes”

“And if they trace?”

“You'll give them the fake implemented with a tracking device so we can target its route.”

“Okay well I'd say easy enough but the threat of being murdered isn’t lost on me. Who's my husband anyways? Obviously he’s rich but did he tragically fall down the stairs and die, did I kill him?” you ask, smiling as Steve laughs.

“What?” you say looking up

“What...” you say as Steve refuses to meet your eyes as he chokes on his laugh.

“Well you haven’t killed him yet but I give it a week.” He responds.

“Who's my husband” you ask, again suddenly afraid and very aware that there were two men in this room, and one was currently laughing at you.

“Your lucky day sweetheart.” Your head turns comically slow to face Javi, the effect only causes Steve to snicker more.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you whisper.

“This mission is anything, but a joke.” your boss interjects “If we can trace the arts movement it brings us one step closer to catching Escobar. I don’t know why there's animosity between you two and frankly I do not care. You two must work together. If you are to succeed you have to be believable. Study up on each others aliases the target hasn’t made it this far without being killed by being stupid. We’ve tried to get to him before with no success, he will be on high alert. You two will have to convince him, and his wife, that you’re sincere.”

[ateezmakemeweep]

on one condition.

seonghwa x reader; a walk to remember au

word count: 19k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death and terminal illness)

park seonghwa had always been a troubled boy. 

and not in the cheesy, cliche 'bad boy' way, like he's parading around town with a motorcycle and worn leather jacket. 

in the 'he has absolutely no regard for himself or others' type of way. he doesn't care if he hurts himself in an attempt to prove he's the best nor does he care if he hurts anybody with his words or fists.

this all started fairly early in his life, showing questionable behaviors at the ripe age of eleven.

it started with skipping classes, asking to go to the bathroom and then meeting his friend's outside on the field; there had never been a child sent to the principal's office as many times as him that year.

by middle school, it had quickly escalated. 

vandalizing obscene objects and words onto the bathroom stall or spray painting on the back of the school. he was intelligent though, both naturally book and street smart, so he knew to wear black attire and a mask; he was only almost caught once.

his last few years of high school now consist of women and fighting.

because if he wasn't pounding into the newest girl of the week, telling her that that was fun but she knows where the door is, he was smacking some kid's head off the pavement for no other reason than that he could. 

that he had such uncontrollable rage in his body, probably from being stuck with and accustomed to the delinquent ways of his friends, that it was the only thing to make him feel better.

because he couldn't deny it, he didn't like who he was.

you had always been a good girl. 

and quite literally in the cheesy, cliche way: sweaters and a nonexistent dating life and your nose always in a book if you weren't at the church your dad preached at every sunday.

you didn't mind your simple, solitary life. 

you had gotten used to being alone and you didn't ever care when people made fun of you for it. because you liked your sweaters and reading and even spending your days after school tutoring younger kids.

it was a place you went every monday through friday, accustomed to the children and other helpers, mainly teachers, that were in the stuffy school library. 

you were surprised to see none other than park seonghwa walk through the doors one afternoon, looking around at the layout of bookshelves and tables like it's the first time he's ever seeing it.

you tried not to watch him float around the room, a blank expression on his face as he settled for standing in front of the main desk waiting for instruction. he was leaned against the wood with his arms folded and jaw set, a very obvious distaste and annoyance present on the boy.

you continued to work with the younger 7th grader who couldn't quite grasp the concept of solving for x, ignoring the way the head teacher pranced over and spoke hushly to the boy.

"and what exactly are you doing here, mr. park?"

seonghwa felt dread fill him immediately, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the teacher who kicked him out of class everyday back in tenth grade.

"tutoring," is all he says, surprised and ready to punch the older man in the mouth when he lets out a scoff.

because apparently after your third strike for starting a brawl in the cafeteria, the only options were suspension or helping out the very understaffed, depressing after-school programs along with an extra research project.

"how long?" the boy asked the principal who sat across from him, a large man with kind eyes despite the destruction the student in front of him has brought into the school since the day he started.

"the rest of the year, mr. park."

seonghwa's eyebrow raised as he truly considered suspension. 

because at least that would only be two weeks of sleeping in and dicking around, not eight months of excruciating 'volunteer' work with bratty preteens and mundane class work. 

that's why he got up and went towards the doorway, throwing a mock wink at the man.

"i think i'll take the suspension, sir."

but the chipper man laughed like he was told the funniest joke he's ever heard, rising from his throne and walking over to pat seonghwa's shoulder. 

"you'll start on monday in the library."

and now he sees he severely underestimated just how tragic today was gonna be, sitting across from a boy who's just as pissed off as him about being here.

"what do you need help with?" seonghwa finally asks after five minutes of silence, leaning back in his chair as he observes the scrawny boy.  

"i don't know, i don't even need this stupid help," the younger boy snaps, the words already getting under seonghwa's skin. "they forced me to be here."

"well, that makes two of us," he mumbles, his eyes moving to the test paper sticking out of the boy's backpack marker with red x's. "but it seems like you do need help, kid. a 42 is shitty."

your eyes widen hearing those words fall from his mouth, clearing your throat and throwing him a chastising look when he meets your gaze; he only rolls them and moves his stare into the kid's beady, brown eyes.

"now don't waste my time and i won't waste yours. open your book," seonghwa demands, the coldness in his tone visibly throwing off the boy.

you feel your heart grow heavy at the student's dejected, frustrated face, your chest burning with the need to yell at and scold seonghwa.

because that's the last way to approach a child already struggling and getting in trouble by his teachers and parents. 

he needs to be shown the problem in different ways until he finds out which one works for him and that's through someone's patience, kindness and genuine desire to help them - which is exactly what you tell seonghwa when 4:30 rolls around.

"thanks for the advice, y/n, but i think i'll be getting this shit over with my own way," he says, glaring at you before he attempts to leave.

you're quick to squeak out "wait," walking around until you're standing in front of him.

"look, i know you probably don't wanna be here," you tell him softly, gently, like the way you talk to kids who also don't wanna be doing work they don't understand. "but you can't take it out on them. you need to at least be nice and try to help him not only pass but also understand it. that's the whole-"

"I could give a shit if the kid passes or not," he snaps at you, pinched glare roaming over your face. "we're all not perfect little angels like you, y/n."

he's known you since elementary school, has watched you parade around with ugly sweaters and books and entertain the kids people avoid because they either spit on you when they talk or go on for hours about nonsense.

some people might find that commendable, that you give everyone a chance and seem to be completely pure and good, but he finds it incredibly irritating - he always had, watching you grow up through the years and feeling some sense of pity for you. 

because no one could genuinely be that kind and unbothered by the fact that they have no friends. that they smile in the faces of their bullies and give even the weirdest of kids the time of day.

"that's not why i'm saying it, seonghwa," you tell him softly. "i just want you to take this seriously. these kids need help."

"they need help when you're the one tutoring kids for fun," seonghwa scoffs, feeling himself grow more agitated and bitter as he talks down to you. "i don't know if you realize how sad that is."

but then in a strange twist of fate, it feels like you're the one talking down to him. because you can only find it in you to shake your head at him and meet his tense gaze.

"more sad than you needing to be forced to help anyone but yourself?"

whether he wants to admit it or not, your comment rings in his head for the rest of the day. he knows he's selfish and a bit of a dick but hearing it put so bluntly to his face causes his chest to churn uncomfortably.

"what does that bitch know anyway?" hongjoong coughs out after passing him a joint. "she's been a tight ass since birth."

"and it's only gotten worse with age," san says before he lets out a thoughtful hum. "but you know... she'd probably be hot if she wasn't such a prude."

the two boys in front throw him a disgusted look, seonghwa blowing smoke directly in the boy's face. 

"you're that desperate for a fuck, huh?"

san swats at the smoke around his face, rolling his eyes at his friends glassy, red eyes. 

"no! i'm just saying."

seonghwa can only picture you in his mind, sporting your ugly green sweater and worn sneakers, bare face looking at him with wide, innocent eyes and softly spoken words.

"don't see it," the boy grumbles out, hongjoong snorting next to him as he reaches out to grab the joint back.

"you know he could be on to something though," the driver says, placing the paper between his lips. "it's always the quiet ones who are freaks."

"ha, like you'd know pussy boy," san says, earning a loud smack on his mouth. 

seonghwa can only smirk at his two friends, knowing damn well you're the type of girl who's probably gonna die a virgin.

"so what do you know about acute triangles?" seonghwa asks the boy, clenching his fists under the table because how fucking hard is it to remember this?

he'd been working with him for almost two weeks now and he's been slowly making progress. 

some would say that the improvement in itself was a good sign but seonghwa was convinced if the boy had someone more cut out for this, he would've learned it by now.

he wouldn't be staring down at the blank paper with a questioning gaze on his face or religiously spend the first thirty minutes in a tense silence.

"there are....three angles," the boy says, uncertainty laced in his tone; seonghwa can only nod his head because wow, yeah, good job.

"okay. and what about them?"

the boy swallows nervously, eyes boring in to his like he's gonna help him out - he only stares back blankly, raising his eyebrow challengingly. 

and once the student sees that, remembers seonghwa's harshly spoken words reminding him to pay attention in class so they can both stop this bullshit, he blurts out "i don't know!"

seonghwa lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. the boy lets out a loud, frustrated groan, throwing his pencil across the room and springing up from his chair.

"fuck this! this is so stupid!"

you watch as seonghwa just stares at the boy with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest and you just know he's trying not to roll his eyes or scream back. 

before the man can say anything 'comforting' back, the younger student stomps off and rips open the library door.

several other kids softly murmur to each other before they get back to work, your eyes moving to seonghwa who hasn't uncrossed his arms. you quietly tell the student you're working with to try the next problem by themselves, walking over to seonghwa and taking the previously occupied seat.

"he's just frustrated," you tell him softly, hoping to ease the obvious tension on seonghwa's face and body. 

you had trouble when you first started too, remember feeling dejected and upset that the kids would get mad, and thinking that you couldn't help them.

his eyes flicker to meet yours but he's quick to look away, seeing the soft compassion and care in them; it always makes him uncomfortable when someone doesn't look at him in disgust or annoyance.

"what do you want from me?"

he misses your face fall ever so slightly, a quiet sigh leaving your mouth as you shrug your shoulders. 

"i just wanna help you, seonghwa," you tell him softly, knowing it's important for both of them to get something out of this. "it might help teaching him in a different way. maybe something he can relate to more."

"and how do you recommend i do that, princess?" he snarls at you, shoving his seat back and stomping towards the exit. 

you notice the head teacher's about to say something when you catch his gaze and shake your head slowly; to your surprise, he lets the boy go with a simple roll of his eyes.

you continue working with your student until 4:30 rolls around, your eyes occasionally moving to the empty table and library door. neither seonghwa nor his student ever came back and it causes a sinking feeling in your stomach.

you wait around for five extra minutes, cleaning the tables and putting your books away before figuring both of the unmotivated boys just ditched. as you're walking out the door to your car, you hear the familiar sound of a basketball bouncing off the gym floor.

so, albeit nosily, you peek your head in and feel your lips quirk up when you see seonghwa's tall frame next to the boy. the two of them are standing a few feet away from the hoop, a rare hint of a smile on the man's face as the both of them move around the floor.

"so this would be a....?" you hear seonghwa ask, the boy immediately responding with "acute angle! and it's less than 90 degrees," who then proceeds to take the ball from him and shoot; in a tragic turn of events, he misses.

seonghwa lets out a playful scoff as he catches the ball with ease.

"used all your brain power for that you can't even get it in, huh?" he teases, throwing the ball with one hand and watching with a cocky smirk as it shoots through.

"you're a showoff," the boy mumbles and you bite your lip so you don't let out a giggle, watching as seonghwa dribbles the ball away from the boy who chases after him. 

you leave the gym as chuckles ring through the air, feeling your heart tug at the fact in all the years you've known seonghwa, you think that’s the first time you've heard him laugh.

you're surprised to see his good mood carries over into the next day. 

sure, he's not being overly happy or nice but he's genuinely helping the student with his work, a focused expression and strong voice as he explains the problems slowly. 

you try to contain your smile, thinking maybe your hope in him isn't misplaced until you decide to tell him he's doing a good job.

"what?"

"you're working well with him," you say softly, turning to wave at the boy when you hear him say goodbye to you both. "he really seems to be getting better."

"yeah," is all he says, tone clipped and short. 

you look over to see his jaw is tight, body defensive and on alert so it's probably in your best interest to not mention you seeing them in the gym yesterday.

"it's hard at first for everyone,” you continue encouragingly. “but then i think once you break that barrier, it's gonna get-"

"why are you talking to me, y/n?"

his short, harsh tone causes your face to fall and for a split second, he feels bad. 

he knows you're just doing what you always do, showing people unwavering decency and kindness, but those are things he, both, can't relate to and finds makes him uncomfortable. 

he doesn’t want you to think just because he helped one kid out that means he's a reformed pupil.

"i just wanted to-"

"well don't," he says, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. "it's bad enough i have to do this. i don't need you talking down to me also."

"i'm not talking down to you/ it's called encouragement, seonghwa."

"then don't encourage me. just ignore me the way i intend to ignore you." 

you're left alone in the library watching the door slam behind him.

and true to his word, he doesn't look your way or entertain conversation with you for the rest of the week. anytime your eyes meet, he'd quickly advert them and makes sure to be out the door the second the clock strikes 4:30.

and today, as you rush to your car in the pouring rain, you mull over in your head what you could have possibly done to the boy to make him so wary of you. 

time and time again, you've just tried to help him. give him advice and make the whole process easier for him but he just lashes out.

then again, you haven't done anything to the general population at school and they still make fun of you. and it's for the stupidest of things: your 'grandma sweaters' apparently the bane of their existence or the fact that you're studious and care about your schoolwork.

you don't allow their words to get to you, though, because you were taught to always be kind and respect others. that if people are mean to you, it's because they're unhappy about something within themselves.

even so, a part of you has always been intrigued by park seonghwa, whether it be because of his obvious good looks or some feeling deep within you that knows he's not as bad as he portrays himself to be. 

through the rain as you think, you see the drenched boy, hood up and head down, as he walks on the sidewalk.

you don’t even think twice about pulling up next to him, roll down your window and ignore the way he side-eyes you.

"do you want a ride?" you ask him quietly, surprised he's even heard you over the roar of the rain; but he's quick to shake his head silently and continue on his way. 

you let out a sigh before following behind him, asking him one more time because he really is drenched and it's starting to get dark and cold.

"you're gonna get sick," you say to him, causing the boy to stop in his tracks and stare you down.

"and what does that matter to you?"

you only raise your eyebrow at him, reaching over to open the door and smiling softly as an invitation. he rolls his eyes as he huffs, looking down at his drenched sneakers and feeling it seep into his socks.

some part deep within him feels ashamed to accept your kindness after the way he's treated you but he gets in and slams the door anyway. a real stand up guy he is.

"happy?" he grumbles. 

you only smirk as you hum softly, eyes peering down to the seatbelt buckle before going back to the road. you feel his gaze on you as you drive, a loud huff leaving him after you stop at the third stop sign.

"what?" you ask, looking both ways before taking your foot off the break.

"how the hell do you get anywhere," he grunts out in annoyance, feeling around in his pocket for a cigarette and agitated when he finds he doesn't have a pack on him.

"it appears i drive like a grandmother, too," you mumble, a snort leaving his nose as he shakes his head.

a few moments of silence pass before you stop at a red light. 

"i don't get you," he suddenly says, causing you to look over at him.

"what do you mean?"

"you really just... don't care about what other people think of you?"

you can't help but smile at the puzzled expression on his face, shrugging your shoulders as you look at him. 

"no."

his eyebrow raises, something about your soft, small smile causing him to squirm in his seat. 

"why not?"

"because why do they matter?" you ask quietly. "while i can, i'm gonna live the way i want."

a quiet hum leaves the boy's mouth, at the time not realizing how strange that sentence was coming from a teenage girl.

he just couldn't understand how a young person would want to live such a sad, quiet life between the covers of books and walls of church. how someone could go on smiling and being happy when they had no friends to make memories with.

"seems like a sad way to live," is all he finds himself saying, a smirk playing at your lips as your brain quips back with a sassy comment - but because you're you, your mouth doesn't open to respond. 

you simply shrug your shoulders again, looking back at the light just as it turns green.

the rest of the ride is silent as you make your way to seonghwa's, asking him a few times for directions until your car is sitting in front of his house.

"thanks, y/n."

"you're welcome, seonghwa."

he turns to you to see your gaze already on him, his eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. you send him a small, innocent, almost unsure smile and he feels himself grow less guarded.

"i'll see you monday?" you ask, slightly uncomfortable by the silence as you two just look at each other with uncertainty. 

the boy next to you shakes himself out of his daze, stuttering out "y-yeah.”

he slams your door shut, not hearing your car pull away until he opens the door to his house.

after your tutoring session, you stayed behind at 4:30 to make a study guide for your student and expected to be the only one there - which is why you were surprised to hear footsteps coming your way and even more surprised when you met the familiar dark eyes of-

"seonghwa," you say as you put your pen down on the table. "what're you still doing here?"

"i could ask you the same thing," he says, peeking at the paper before taking the seat across from you.

that's when you knew he was about to ask for something, like a pardon from this 'stupid volunteer work' (as if you have the authority to do that) or to cover for him one day this week so he can go do whatever normal destruction he does on the weekdays.

because in all the years you've known park seonghwa, he has never initiated a conversation with you.

"i'm making a study guide for my student," you tell him. "she's still having a bit of trouble so i'm hoping this will help her."

he nods his head at you, resting his elbows on the table as he watches you write with concentration for a few silent minutes. 

"but i know you don't care about that," you say to him quietly before meeting his intense gaze. "so why are you here?"

he lets out a sigh, running his hand through his hair that seems to be out of nervousness - but in what kind of sick, confused world is a man like him nervous to talk to a girl like you?

"i need your help with something."

your eyebrow raises as you look at him, dropping your pen on the table and the noise echoes through the quiet, empty library.

"is... park seonghwa asking for my help?"

he rolls his eyes before blankly staring at you, the dead look in his eye causing you to giggle softly. 

"what do you need help with?"

your giggle and soft tone relax him ever so slightly, popping his neck to the side and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics. 

"i'm- uh, i'm supposed to write a play for my class."

"okay..." you say as you nod your head. "and you need help...writing it? editing it? coming up with ideas?"

his mind starts to swarm with slight panic and uncertainty, completely out of his element and comfort zone. he doesn't know the first thing about writing fucking plays, you couldn't pay him enough money to even sit through one.

"uh...all of it," he says with a wince. "but i know you're like... a theater geek."

you can't help the snort that leaves you, shaking your head as you look at the boy in front of you. 

"a theater geek?"

"not like that," he says, tone desperate and unsure and you can hear how uncomfortable he is asking for help. "i just mean like you're probably...good at that stuff."

"ahh, because i'm a big fat nerd, right?"

his eyes close at the horrific turn this has taken; he can't even ask you for help without insulting you. 

"i didn't mean it like that, y/n."

you watch him for a few moments, hands in his hair as his leg starts to bounce and you decide to finally put him out of his misery. 

“i'm just kidding. i'll help you."

his head snaps up immediately, face once ridden by anxiety and panic full of surprise and relief. "really?!"

"really," you say with a smile. "but i'm only gonna assist you. you have to do most of it, okay?"

"yeah, right, of course," he grunts out, already bored and over this conversation.

"and you have to take it seriously. on the days we do it, you're gonna have to be focused, seonghwa."

"i wouldn't have put myself through this and asked you if i wasn't gonna take it seriously," he grumbles, watching you furrow your eyebrows at him and quickly realizing he's falling into his dick-ish ways before mumbling out an apology. 

"i mean, of course, yeah."

"thank yo-," he says before you cut him off.

"and on one more condition, seonghwa."

he raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as he looks at you awaitingly.  he knows it's probably gonna be something stupid like to try his very best or make it from the heart; but the last thing he expects to hear is:

"you have to promise you won't fall in love with me."

everything in him stills as he looks at you, trying to figure out if you're joking with him until he sees how seriously you're looking at him. he almost feels bad at the blatant laugh that bubbles out of him, his hand coming up to (fakely) wipe his mouth.

"uh...yeah, okay, that shouldn't be a problem," he says, humor and amusement heavy in his tone. it doesn't make you feel bad because you just nod your head and shrug your shoulders.

"okay!"

"okay," he says a few seconds later, a small grateful smile on his face. "thank you, y/n."

"you're welcome."

you can't help but smile back because it really seems as if he's trying to better himself now. 

apply himself more and show people that he's more than just some 'cool' guy who gets in trouble. he asked for help and that's the first step in anything required to get better and grow as person.

but sometimes people will ask for help, receive help, and it still won't be enough. 

because just the next day, you see him in the cafeteria with his group of friends. and perhaps it was ballsy of you in the first place to see him and hold his eye contact and greet him with a smile that only led him to divert his gaze.

that should've made it obvious that going over to him was not gonna be a good idea.

but you thought you were seeing a change in him, you were so excited to see him work with the students and take an initiative to do his project, so you walk over and say hi to him.

"hi, seonghwa," you say sweetly, waving at his friends who just look at you with a bewildered expression. "do you wanna start working on your play after tutoring today?"

the second him and his friends let out sarcastic laughs, you know he's about to disappoint you.

"i think you're lost, princess," he says, tone full of venom and spite. "we'd never do anything together."

"unless, of course, you're willing to show him what's under that sweater," his friend next to him says, his eyes roaming over your body and making you back up uncomfortably.

"hongjoong," the tallest one says warningly, like he's probably the only good one within this group.

"oh fuck off yunho, she needs a little fun."

your eyes never leave seonghwa's, the tight, hard look melting slightly since his bickering friends are now distracted. the change in them doesn't make you feel any better, instead nodding your head at him and quietly saying "okay, never mind then. sorry."

the fact that you apologize makes him feel like a piece of shit for the rest of the day, even caused him to lash out at hongjoong for saying that pervy comment to you and then get kicked out of his last class.

which is how he catches you right before tutoring starts at 3:15, grabbing you by the elbow and ushering you into the tiny computer lab against your softly-spoken protests. 

he closes the door behind him and turns to see you staring at him blankly.

"just hear me out, y/n."

"i don't think there's anything to hear out," you tell him softly. "you made it obvious you don't need my help anymore."

you're about to go around him when he grabs your arm again, your body stiffening immediately causing him to let go. 

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't...i shouldn't have done that."

it's like the fact that he knows it was wrong is making it worse. he knew it would hurt you and make him look bad but he did it anyway to prove a point to his friends.

"but you did," you say quietly. "and i know you don't care, seonghwa, but i really thought you were trying to be better."

he lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance; he really knows how to fuck things up.

"i was. i am. that's why i need your help. please y/n."

a group of kids come barreling through, the girl you're working with catching your eye as she takes a seat at the normal table. you meet seonghwa's gaze that's staring down at you, eyes regretful and tense.

you know it's only because now he's not getting something out of you, not because he genuinely cares about you being upset and disappointed.

"the drama teacher is really nice," you tell him softly, sending him a small smile as you tighten your bag around your shoulder. "you could probably sit in with her and get some pointers."

"but i wanted you to-"

he can't even finish his sentence when you move passed him and out the door, his body whirling around to see you wave at the curious younger girl. 

he watches you meet his gaze once more before they flicker back down to the table, your heart sinking every so slightly because you were stupid to think he was capable of changing.

seonghwa was shocked by how much it annoyed him that you were ignoring him. 

that anytime he tried to get your attention, you would just smile dismissively and busy yourself. that you no longer lingered at the end of the day or gave him words of praise and encouragement that used to piss him off so badly.

it, oddly enough, made the next few weeks drag on even longer, his afternoons now an even more dull and dreary experience.

that's why on friday, purely out of selfishness, he ended his session with the boy five minutes early and waited outside the library like some sort of creep; if this was the only way to talk to you, it appeared he was gonna do it.

you open the door to leave, fishing through your backpack for the keys buried at the bottom, and look up just in time so you don't smack right into seonghwa's large frame.

"hi."

you narrow your eyes at him, his body and face lacking its usual confidence and smugness.

"hi."

the two of you just look at one another, your eyes confused and awaiting while his hold a twinge of insecurity and nervousness.

you had been making it a point to steer clear of him these past weeks, dodging him in the hallways and cafeteria when you noticed him and completely avoiding his presence during tutoring.

"are you gonna make me beg?"

your eyebrows shoot up at his lowly spoken words, head turning to the side in confusion. 

"what?"

"i miss your stupid encouragement, okay," he blurts out suddenly. "and i miss talking to you. i want...i want you to help me with my play."

you let out a shaky exhale, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to gauge his mood. he could just be saying all of this to get what he wants and make his life easier.

"what's wrong with the drama teacher?" you ask him. "she's nice. i'll even ask her if you can-”

"she's not you."

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, panicking slightly at how your heart and stomach just reacted; you should not be so effected by him after the way he's treated you.

"that's kind of the point," you tell him, voice strong despite the way you're shaking inside. "it seems as if that's what you wanted the other week."

he lets out an annoyed huff, taking a few steps closer to you and looking straight at you. 

"that was wrong and i'm sorry, y/n, i am," he says to you, watching your gaze soften as he all but begs you. "but i'm trying here. and i need your help."

you truly take the time to assess him, look him up and down to gauge if he really is trying -  you suppose you won't really be able to tell until you start working with him though. 

and you can't ignore the fact that, no matter how he's treated you or anyone else, he's here and genuine and asking for help again.

a sigh leaves your mouth as you shake your head at him, cursing the fact that's he's not only handsome but persuasive (or at least sly enough to pick the right victims that can't say no to helping people).

the silence that stretches between you two makes him ready to jump out of his skin, not knowing at all what to make of your flickering eyes and blank expression.

he nearly topples over when you mutter out “fine. but all the same conditions still apply, seonghwa. even if you're...embarrassed to be seen with me, we still have to do the work and-"

"i'm not embarrassed," he's quick to clarify, your eyebrow shooting up at his blatant lie. "i'm not," he repeats.

you shake your head at him before taking out your car keys and swirling them around your finger. 

"well, whatever, it doesn't even matter," you tell him quietly. "just get ready to start working next week, okay?"

the boy nods, thanking you one more time and feeling a twinge in his chest when you smile back and send him a little wave. 

he didn't expect to feel so much lighter after the conversation, no longer having a pit in his stomach or hearing that small voice in the back of his head scream at him.

but because he's not completely reformed, he distracts himself with one of the many girls interested in him or with his friends as they smoke and drive around their boring little town.

the boring little town that has an eerie little cemetery just a few blocks from his house.

most days when he walks home, he goes the opposite way because there's something very unsettling to him about death and dying and mourning. he hadn't dealt with any loss in his life properly, going off the rails when his dad left and then again with alcohol and drugs when his grandpa died.

he was actually buried right in that cemetery and for whatever reason that sunday night, something was telling him to pass by and visit.

he turns the corner and catches the sight of your hair, stopping in his tracks to watch as you open the old, iron gate and walk right in the dark cemetery alone.

"what are you doing," he mumbles curiously to himself, his interest fully peaked as he speeds up his footsteps to follow after you.

he watches you weave in and out of the headstones, backpack in one hand and blanket in the other as you stand in front of a tombstone and bow your head to pray.

if anything makes him more uncomfortable than death, it's religion. 

maybe because he's not sure himself what or who he believes in, fascinated by people who can fully put all of their faith in something that has no proof. 

regardless, he waits until you raise your head and lay out your blanket, placing a few books down next to you as you sit criss-cross style in front of the tombstone.

"so this is how you live on the edge huh? sneaking around a cemetery at night."

you jump at the teasing, deep voice, snapping your head to the side and smiling slightly at the sight of seonghwa. 

he's dressed in his usual all black, a sliver chain hanging from his neck and a beanie over his dark hair - devastatingly handsome, per usual.

"no sneaking," you tell him. "but that's you, apparently. i didn't even hear you come in."

he shrugs his shoulders as he sticks his hands in his pockets, eyes curiously taking in his surroundings. you watch him look around the cemetery with slight discomfort, his eyes focused on the back corner where a large oak tree stands.

"so were you actually following me?" you ask him, causing him to rip his gaze and look down at you. "or are you here to see someone?"

a few beats of silence pass before he answers.

"would it be weird to admit i followed you?"

a smile covers your face, teeth in your bottom lip as you try to contain a laugh. 

"not much weirder than me spending my sunday night in a cemetery, i suppose."

a short, deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rocks on his feet, looking down at his boots so you don't see his own smile forming. 

"guess that's true,” he mutters lowly but you’re able to somehow catch it. he looks up when he hears your hand tapping on the blanket-covered ground. 

"you can sit, if you want."

for whatever reason, he accepts the invitation immediately. he keeps a good distance between the both of you, his butt just hanging off the edge as he can't help but stare at the headstone in front of him.

he wouldn't dare ask about it because how can he just so casually ask which dead relative of yours you're sitting in front of?

"my mom," you say quietly, because it's hard not to know what he's thinking. "she died giving birth to me."

his eyes widen at your confession, a low curse leaving his mouth. 

"shit."

you nod your head, placing your chin on your hand as you look at the death date. 

"yeah. it's always a little weird to see my birthday as the day she died."

seonghwa watches your face as you look at the tombstone, surprised not to see sadness or sorrow but the same look of compassion and pureness that always seems to be on your face. 

and now with the glow of the moon on you, he's realizing that you are kind of pretty. in a unique, natural way but pretty nonetheless.

if he thought he was surprised to be thinking these thoughts at a moment like this, he's even more surprised when he finds himself asking, "why do you come here then?"

the question holds no malice or judgement, just a genuine curiosity that you perhaps understand. while it's fairly common for people to visit their loved ones graves, it’s also something that some get uncomfortable with or don't understand.

"to talk to her, i guess. i think she'd wanna know what's going on in my life."

he mulls over your response in his head, nodding in understatement even though he doesn't really get it.

"what do you talk to her about?" and for the life of him, he can't understand why he's so interested in this. in you, all of the sudden.

you turn to look at him, slightly surprised that he's taking the lead in the conversation and showing an interest. you don’t want him to misconstrue your gaze on him so you quickly look back at the grave as you shrug your shoulders.

"anything really. i tell her about school or my dad's sermons or what i did during the weekend. sometimes i'll just read."

he nods his head again, looking over at the grave and wondering how much this piece of stone has heard about your life.

do you tell it how people treat you at school? how much you volunteer your time to help others and make them better? maybe even how you've been trying to help him but might see him as a lost cause.

he hears the sound of a paper rustling and turns his head to see you, pen in hand, scribbling down something on your book; even though it's nosy and intrusive, he peaks over out of curiosity.

"bucket list?" he asks aloud. 

a smirk pulls at your lips as you nod your head silently, scribbling down a #4 on the page.  "do you have one?" you ask him quietly, meeting his eyes that are boring into the side of your face.

"can't say i do," he hum, "although i definitely have a lot of stuff i wanna do."

"like what?" you ask, trying not to show just how interested you are in finally getting to know something about this elusive boy. it falls flat when you see him lower his head and shrug his shoulders, immediately closing himself back up.

"i don't know," he mumbles, suddenly feeling embarrassed and on the spot.

you let out a small giggle, turning the page and ripping out a piece of paper before handing it to him. he looks down in surprise before taking it from your hands, your fingertips brushing and he can't help but notice how cold your skin is.

"writing it down might help."

you place the pen in between you both, letting the book lie on your lap as you lean back on your hands; his eyes can't help but fall down to peak at the page.

"fall in love, get married, see the ocean," you hear his deep voice read before he sees ".....get a tattoo?!" he asks, voice raising slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"is that so hard to believe?" you ask, a mock expression of hurt on your face. he chuckles trying to picture you with a sleeve of tattoos, your pastel pink sweater rolled up your arms and showcasing an array of colors.

"kind of, yeah," he laughs out, smiling when your own giggles rings through the cold night air.

"why do you even have one though?" he asks a few moments later, trying to distract himself from the way your giggle just made his heart swell. 

"don't only people who are like..." he cringes as he remembers you are both sitting surrounding by corpses. "don't you only make these when you're gonna die? get news that you have like a year left to live or something?"

and just like in the car that day, he doesn't think about how sadly cryptic your answer is. how odd the dreary words sound coming from the mouth of a high school girl whose only cares should be about prom or college acceptance letters.

"i could only have a year left to live," you tell him softly. "i could even only have a month left. you never really know, do you?"

he can only nod his head, furrowing his eyebrows because while your words ring true. 

"that's pretty fucking morbid, y/n."

a small chuckle leaves your mouth at his profanity, shrugging your shoulders as you turn around to look at him. 

"i guess but it's true though," you say, moving your hands side to side like you're showcasing a house and not a cemetery full of rotting bodies. "after all, look around."

a loud, surprised laugh leaves seonghwa's mouth as he looks at you, shaking his head half in amusement and half in astonishment - he’s never met anyone like you in his life.

"good point," he says, biting down on his lips desperate to quirk up into a large grin.

it's an odd place and time to spend the rest of the night sharing shy smiles and glances but it happens nonetheless.

by the end of the night, you're both convinced of something: you only further confirming your suspicions that this boy is so much more than the person he portrays himself to be and seonghwa thinking that maybe grandma sweaters and bucket lists aren't that bad after all.

the more you talked and spent time with seonghwa, the more you saw how great he was. 

you figured that night at the cemetery was a fluke, that if you ever dared mentioning it or tried to make it happen again he’d laugh in your face or feign confusion. 

so the surprise that ran through you when, at lunch, he plopped down in the seat across from you was truly overwhelming. you had looked side to side in confusion, thinking that maybe his friends all went out or that your budding friendship was all one big practical joke.

but his friends looked just as confused, eyebrows pinched together as they whispered and hit one another.

“your friend’s look confused,” you say quietly. “you should probably go back.” 

but without missing a beat, he just shrugs and takes out a tattered black notebook.

“fuck them.”

your eyes widen at his vulgarity, watching him with a curious, slightly cautious gaze before it softens as he meets your eyes. he holds out his book for you, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“i...wrote some of the beginning last night. do you wanna read it?”

the smile that lights up your face has that familiar twinge in his heart appearing, excitedly nodding as your fingertips brush when you take it. 

“the prologue,” you correct him gently as you read his opening lines. 

“the what?” he asks. 

a little giggle leaves your mouth as you continue to read, missing the way his eyes soften as he looks at you with admiration - but his friends don’t miss it. 

don’t miss the way he chooses to sit with you everyday for the next few weeks, the way your hands brush as you make edits on your paper and the way his eyes never leave you as you read over his corrections. 

“i’m gonna ask you straight up,” mingi asks when he’s over seonghwa’s one night. “what’s going on with you and church girl?”

the boy can only look up from his notebook, shaking out his aching hand as he raises his eyebrow at the boy. 

“what?” 

the taller boy can only roll his eyes, going over to the open window as he lights a cigarette. 

“you like her.”

“mingi...” seonghwa says warningly, not wanting to get into this right now; they’d been giving him shit every chance they got, poking fun at his newfound desire to succeed in school.

“i’m not giving you shit, i just wanna know,” the boy says, “because it seems pretty obvious.”

seonghwa rests his feet on his desk as he looks over at the boy, letting out a sigh when he sees how genuine and indifferent he looks. 

“i might,” he says because it’s a fact he’s been mulling over since that night at the cemetery. 

ever since then, he’s been overwhelmingly eager to see you and please you. 

he keeps wanting to show you time and time again that he’s capable of doing this work and tutoring the kids. keeps wanting to see that happy smile that lights up your face or your soft voice squealing about how good his play is coming along.

“you might,” mingi laughs out, blowing smoke out the window as he shakes his head. “you absolutely do.” 

“i’m gonna push you out that fucking window,” seonghwa grunts, a smirk crossing the boy’s face as he shakes his head.

“that’s not very holy of you,” his friend says, sarcasm and teasing in his tone. “what ever would y/n say if she found out you-” 

mingi’s words are quickly cut off by high-pitched yells as he watches a cup of pencils and pens go hurling towards him. 

and whether it be a twist of fate or just pleasant circumstances, tutoring sessions on one friday afternoon are cancelled for construction in the library. 

the both of you look at one another and somehow know it’s mutually decided that you’re gonna work elsewhere, even though it’s friday and there’s a party going on at his friend san’s house.

“we only have to work for an hour,” you tell him as you guys step outside the school. “i know there’s a party tonight.”

“do you wanna come with me?” he blurts out before he can even stop himself, shocking the both of you. 

the boy would laugh at the terrified, wide-eyed expression on your face if he wasn’t so thrown off by how quickly and impulsively he asked that. 

“i...uh...don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say quietly, eyes trained on the floor shyly. you nearly fall right down when you feel his hand on your jaw, lifting your face so your glossy, nervous eyes meet his.

“nobody would mess with you if i was there,” he says lowly, the protective, confident words causing you to swallow nervously. you only shake your head slightly, the feeling of his hand on your face so foreign and bare-minimum but sending your heart into overdrive. 

“it’s not that, i’m just... i wouldn’t do well there.”

i wouldn’t be allowed.

his eyes search yours for any hint of a lie, that maybe you actually wanna go but fear that stupid girls or guys would make fun of you for whatever idiotic reason they can think of tonight. 

your small smile assures him even further.

“i probably wouldn’t do well there tonight, either then,” he says, your eyebrows furrowing as you look at his eyes shining with certainty. you’re about to ask him to clarify when he removes his hold on your face, taking your smaller hand in his cautiously.

“what are you-”

“you drive here today?” he asks and you can only find it in you to shake your head. 

“we’ll walk to my house then?” 

you stare blankly at him before looking down at your intertwined hands, feeling a blush creep on your face as you’re successfully rendered speechless. 

you hadn’t really know what to expect or feel holding someone’s hand but it definitely wasn’t this feeling of closeness and warmth and excitement. 

when you look up and he sees the pinkness on your cheeks, he can’t help but smile. 

seonghwa looks down at you questioningly, raising his eyebrow and looking at you until you stutter out “ye-yeah that’s..good.” he intertwines your fingers and pulls you along the sidewalk, holding your hand and occasionally looking down at you the entire way to his house. 

he ends up missing the party that night in exchange for writing, editing and playfully rehearsing his lines with you. his chuckle fills the room when you dramatically read his lines, giggles leaving your mouth when he cringes at the fact he wrote some of this dialogue. 

he drove you home after the sun had set, your hands intertwined as they rest on the console. shy gazes and quiet giggles fill the car, your softly spoken “goodnight seonghwa,” ringing through his head for the rest of the night. 

and then much to his dismay, after three months of preparation and work with you, his play was due. 

you had worked together in the library one last time, your encouragement and assurance that he would absolutely get an a filling the boy with an unfamiliar feeling of pride and excitement. 

he had worked hard, you both had worked hard, and he’d never been so excited to hand in an assignment in his life; it all had paid off because he was able to showcase a big, 100% to you in red ink.

“seonghwa!” you squeal, clapping your hands in the empty library and throwing your arms around him without a second thought. “i told you you were gonna do amazing!”

he can’t even think about your words with your arms around him, the feeling of your body against him the final confirmation for him that he 100% absolutely likes you (as mingi so juvenilely put).

you feel his body stiffen and realize what you’ve done, quickly drawing your arms back and flushing as you quietly apologize. 

but just as the words leave, his arms are around you and your head rests on his chest. once you’ve recovered from the shock, you allow your own arms to slowly go back around him, the two of standing in the empty library wrapped in each other’s arms. 

it’s a strangely intimate hug for just a good grade on a paper, your arms tight and hearts pounding as you feeling a buzzing in the air changing everything you’ve worked to build over these past months. 

“do one more thing for me, y/n?” you hear him lowly ask in your ear. 

you meet his gaze nervously, biting your lip as you stare at him with a wide-eyed gaze. “what?” you squeak, your voice barely coming out. 

“let me take you on a date.”

convincing your father to allow you on a date was one thing but convincing your father to allow you on a date with park seonghwa was damn near impossible. 

“dad,” you whine for the twentieth time that day.

“y/n, i’m telling you, i’m not comfortable with this.”

“you’re not even giving him a chance, dad,” you tell him softly at the table, your eyes trained on the clock that reads 6:50. “he’s gonna be here in ten minutes.”

whether your dad approved or not, you were going on this date. 

you had gone your whole life without dating or boys or even having a crush and now you were overwhelming ready to try it out. despite your nervousness and despite the fact you have absolutely no experience, you’re excited.

seonghwa has brought out something in you that was suppressed for so long, that you only read about in books or watched in other couples - now with your shy smiles and intertwined hands under the table at lunch, you’re convinced that he’s your first love. 

“y/n, i’m uncomfortable with this for more than one reason,” he says, sadness and apprehension in his tone; it makes your heart sink a little bit. 

why does he have to bring this up now? why can’t he just let you have one night to be a normal teenager?

“why, dad?” you ask, voice far too even and calm even though you already know where this is headed. he can tell too, because he grabs your hand from across the table and squeezes it apologetically. 

“i’m not trying to upset you,” he says, “i just don’t know if you should start something when...”

“i’m fine though. i feel fine.” 

his face turns into one of shock and confusion, not once hearing you snap at him; that’s when he notices that you look...different. 

a short-sleeved dress over your figure with a hint of blush and mascara on your face. your eyes flickering to the clock and door before back to him and he feels his heart pull in his chest. 

“i know you do,” he says, pulling his hand back and running it through his thinning hair. “you didn’t tell him, did you?”

“of course not,” you quickly get out. “there’s no need to tell him.”

“no need to-” the words die in his throat so he doesn’t start a fight or upset you just minutes before your first date. 

he knows that if you actually accepted to go out with a boy, you have to like him and there has to be some sort of...connection between the two of you. 

“what if this gets more serious?”

a knock at the door causes you both to jump, your neck snapping over to see seonghwa’s handsome face through the window. 

“then we’ll deal with that when it comes,” you tell him, voice serious and hushed. “just... please be nice, okay? he’s important.”

and with that, your dad watches you open the door and greet seonghwa with a smile, ushering him in as you giggle when he says something lowly. you drag him over by the hand, seonghwa and your dad standing only a few inches away from one another a sight you’d truly thought you’d never see.

“hi sir,” seonghwa says, his voice deep but friendly as he outreaches his had. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m-”

“park seonghwa,” the older man finishes, taking the boy’s hand roughly and shaking it before dropping his hold. “i see your mother church every sunday but i can’t say the same for you.”

“dad,” you whisper, face flushing in embarrassment. 

“it’s okay, y/n,” seonghwa says quietly before he looks your dad in the face. “i...probably should go more but-”

“no need to explain yourself to me, i was just saying,” he tells him, watching the way seonghwa’s face falls slightly and you narrow your eyes at him. “where are you guys going tonight?”

“just dinner, like i told you,” you say, voice tight and arm grazing seonghwa in an attempt to bring him comfort; even if he doesn’t need comfort, you need his skin on yours to ground you. 

your dad meets his gaze, causing seonghwa to quickly confirm the plans.

“yeah, just dinner,” he says, comforted by your arm touching his. “i borrowed my mom’s car.”

a quiet hum leaves your dad’s mouth and seonghwa feels the nervous pit in his stomach growing, like he’s judging him for being a possible satanist who still borrows his mommy’s car.  

even if he was thinking that, he smiles warmly at the both of you before reminding him to have you home by ten. 

“will do, sir,” he says, already telling himself to have you home by 9:55 so if anything, he’s at least punctual. you all but drag seonghwa out of the house, waving to your dad and thanking the boy quietly when he opens the car door for you. 

he starts the car and there’s a few moments of silence before he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“he hates me.”

you let out a soft giggle as you shake your head, tapping his arm playfully. 

“he doesn’t, he’s just...protective.” 

seonghwa only looks at you, completely unconvinced if the blank stare he’s giving you is any indication. 

“okay, maybe a little,” you agree softly, the boy rolling his eyes away from you despite the smile on his face. 

you watch him drive and admire his sharp features, wondering how and why on earth this boy asked you on a date in the first place. he turns to look at you when the light turns red, his eyebrow quirked up when he sees you’re staring at him. 

“what?”

“nothing,” you say, shaking your head before you shyly say. “i just can’t believe you asked me on a date.”

he bites his lip to hide his smile, taking his hand off the wheel and taking your hand in his. 

“you look pretty,” he says suddenly, causing you to sharply inhale and nearly choke on air. 

you never imagined someone other than a family member or elderly woman at church calling you pretty, completely thrown off and unsure how to respond. the pinkness creeping up on your cheeks is a dead give away that it’s effecting you, his eyes roaming over your face as his smile finally breaks through.

“really pretty.”

and so you don’t completely go mute and dumb, you tease “it’s just because i’m not in a grandma sweater.” 

he only rolls his eyes and taps you on the nose. “i’ve come to really like those grandma sweaters.”

a quiet giggle leaves your mouth and he can only smirk as he looks back at the road. 

the light turns green and your heart flutters ever so slightly when instead of disconnecting your hands, he brings it to his lips to press a soft, sweet kiss.

your hands don’t disconnect when he pulls up to the restaurant nor when you walk in and wait to be seated. 

you look around at the other couples in the area and that’s when it hits you that you’re one of them. that right now, you’re on your first date and have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. 

“what’re you looking at?” he quietly hums in your ear, watching you look around at the other young couples embraced in a handhold or back hug. 

“nothing,” you say quietly before looking up at him. “i just... i’ve never been on a date before.”

his lips press against your head and you hear him laugh against it, your eyebrows furrowing as you smack his stomach lightly. 

“stop laughing,” you whine.

“but you’re cute,” he hums lowly. 

he hears you let out a sigh and disconnects his lips from your head, taking your cheeks in his hands and ignoring the way your eyes widen at the contact.

“just take a breath for me, okay?” he says lowly, staring down at your wide-eyed gaze and feeling such an overwhelming desire to kiss you. “it’ll be fine. there’s nothing to worry about.”

“but i don’t kn-”

“seonghwa, table for two,” a female voice interrupts. his eyes widen teasingly as a quiet gasp leaves his mouth. “let’s go, baby.”

and, of course, he was right. 

it was fine. 

the second you sat down and looked over the menus, you fell into a natural and teasing conversation that carried on for the rest of the date. everything was always light-hearted and fun, never delving into serious topics or issues. 

he paid the bill after eyeing you the second you pulled out your wallet, a blush crossing your face as you quietly mumble out your gratitude. he took your hand in his, you shyly looking down and watching your fingers intertwine as he leads you through the parking lot.

“where are we going now?” 

you look up at him and see him watching you with a small smirk, probably from the permanent blush on your face, and relishing in the fact that he’s the one that put it there. 

"you’ll see.”

the two of you walk hand-in-hand across the street, tiny squeals leaving your mouth as seonghwa abandons the crosswalk signs and runs straight across. low chuckles leave his mouth as he tightens his hold on your hand, dragging you in front of him and shaking his head.

“you think i’m gonna let you get hit by a car?”

“i just don’t know why you couldn’t wait,” you say, amusement in your voice. “do you have to always prove you’re just such cool rule-breaker?” 

his eyes widen at your uncharacteristic snark, a smirk playing at his lips that only makes your small, smug smile grow wider. 

“rule-breaker, huh?” he hums. “is that what you really think of me? i got a 100 on my play, you know.”

a laugh bubbles out of your mouth as you roll your eyes playfully, your heart soaring because you just know how proud he actually is of that. something about it is so cute, that he now knows he’s capable of succeeding and doing well.

“oh right, i’m sorry,” you tease, looking up at him to admire his smiling face in the setting sun. you don’t know if it’s just because you hadn’t known him well or only saw him in bad situations but you never noticed just how sweet his smile is. 

you see the exact moment something in his eyes change, your gaze following his before you let out at tiny gasp.

to all the places this boy could’ve taken you, like some sort of underground ring or a crazy house party, you’re both standing in front of-

“a playground?” you squeal, trying to contain the childlike excitement building in you. 

“yeah, is that stupid?” he asks, an unsure smile on his face as he looks down to gauge your reaction. he watches your eyes traveling from the swings and slides, feet wiggling beneath you and feels his heart soften even more. 

your neck then snaps up to look at him, a shy smile on your face as you quickly shake your head. 

“not at all,” you say, tightening your hold on his hand. “i just wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“and why’s that?” he asks, dipping his head ever so slightly as his words fan over your ear. “it’s against the rules to go into a playground at sunset.”

your eyes widen when you look up at, a tiny scoff leaving your mouth. but before you can get the words out to chastise him, he pulls you towards the fence that is short and easy enough for you both to climb over.

“are you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa asks, bent down with his hands on your knees, watching you breathe heavily as you sit on the swing.

the two of you had run around the playground like children, racing down the slide and then chasing after each other when one of you lost. 

you squealed as he caught you around the waist, his hands digging into your hips and nearly making your heart explode. he was always quick to loosen his hold and take his hands off of you afterward, demanding a rematch as you watch him run up the steps. 

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, leaning your head against the cold chain and flooding with relief. “just out of shape.”

a scoff leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he watches you carefully; you don’t look out of shape. 

“i’m fine, seonghwa,” you whine, feeling his gaze still on you. he only narrows his eyes, rubbing your exposed skin before standing up and plopping down on the swing next to you. 

the two of you swing in a comfortable silence for a few moments, admiring the dark sky and singing cicadas. head still on the chain, you turn yourself to look over at him and he must feel your gaze because he does the same, eyes roaming over you because he doesn’t like how lethargic you’ve become.

“thank you for asking me on this date,” your soft voice says suddenly. “i...i had a lot of fun.” 

he watches your cheeks warm with a smile, holding his hand out for you to grab again. 

you take it immediately, his eyebrows furrowing at how small and bony it feels in your hand - have you always been this small?

he pushes down the thoughts because he doesn’t wanna ruin this moment, be distracted from the soft smile on your lips and the pink on your cheeks.

“yeah?” he hums. “i felt some pressure, being that it was your first and all.”

a quiet giggle leaves your mouth as you shake your head. 

“well it was perfect so good job,” you say, “another 100.”

he snorts at your nerdy comment, turning his face away to hide his smile and look at the rest of the playground. 

he hadn’t come to this playground in years, remembering it so vividly from his childhood. how it seemed so big and scary, like some sort of deathtrap that he could only handle because he had someone next to him.

“i used to come here a lot, you know.”

“oh yeah?” you ask, voice happy and light as you picture a young, exuberant seonghwa. 

“mhm,” he hums, a lump suddenly in his throat as if it’s begging him not to say his next few words. some part of him wants to tell you, break down some unfamiliar, vulnerable side of him in an effort to show he really is trying for you. 

and what better way to do that than woefully spilling about his absent father? 

but then when he finally says, “i used to come here with my dad,” he wishes he hadn’t. it’s embarrassing and kind of humiliating to talk about these types of things with a person you’re starting to-

“that’s sweet,” you tell him softly, smiling over at him warmly. “he sounds like a good dad.”

“he left us a few years after.”

your body stills and veins run cold when those words leave his mouth, your heart tugging in your chest at the sad, short way he says it. 

“oh.”

an awkward chuckle leaves his mouth as your surprised response, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously in fear that he just ruined the vibe between you both. before he can try to backtrack, however the hell one could backtrack something like that, he feels your hand squeeze his. 

“i’m sorry.”

he looks over at your soft, sympathetic gaze and smiles sadly, feeling the overwhelmingly need to cup your cheek and brush over your soft skin.

“not your fault,” he says. 

you move further into his touch, swallowing at the way his eyes roam over your face.

“well, it’s not yours either,” you squeak out, unsure of what exactly to say to comfort him but wanting to so bad. 

because sometime within these months, you’ve discovered what a kind, sensitive person he actually is. how all of his troublesome behaviors and bullshit was just covering up for the fact he was sad and frustrated and maybe a little lonely.

he lets out a scoff, that overwhelming urge to kiss you coming back with a vengeance.

“where were you years ago,” he laughs out, thinking back to his middle school self creeping through the schoolyard and etching his rage onto the brick of the school. 

because for some reason, the boy had convinced himself it was all his fault.

that his dad had gotten tired of his bad grades and snarky backtalk and the fact that he never listened to him. it took him up until a few years ago, when the sadness turned to anger, that he knew his dad left purely due to the fact that he was just an asshole.

you smile sadly watching him stare blankly, knowing his mind is probably going to all sorts of sad places. to a time in his life where he blamed himself and didn't know how to properly cope. 

if you had known, you would've done what you did now. offer him your support and friendship and let him know someone will be there for him.

"i'm here now though," you remind him quietly, moving the swing back and forth, in sync with the way your thumb starts gently brushing over his hand. 

it's like he needed that touch to bring him back to reality, his blank eyes turning to look at you and wonder if you're even real.

the way he's looking at you causes you to nervously fidget, the intense softness of his gaze making your stomach and heart go into frenzy. so much so that you shyly look away, focusing on the way your hand always looks so small in his.

you feel him bring his swing closer to yours, holding himself right beside you and lifting your chin gently. his gaze immediately falls to your lips and you let out a shaky, nervous exhale, your eyes darting across his face because you've definitely read about this before.

the buzzing energy before a kiss, the way someone's eyes lower and tongues dart out to lick at their lips.

"i wanna kiss you," you hear him mumble, his eyes moving to yours and his heart dropping when he sees your wide-eyed gaze. he also sees a hint of curiosity though, a hint of the same desire and need in yours.

you swallow again, your own eyes falling to his lips before back up to him. 

"i... might be bad at it,” you whisper, voice caught in your throat.

if your statement didn't make his heart hurt in the best way possible, your eyes proved to be the bigger weakness. proved to make a smile spread across his face, a short chuckle leaving his mouth as he shakes his head at you.

"that's not possible," he hums, his gaze boring right into you, like he's waiting for any sort of permission. 

after you let out another shaky exhale and close your eyes, you feel his lips press lightly against yours.

and while it's a careful, slow kiss, it doesn't take away from the fact that it's perfect. 

that it makes your insides warm and flutter and brings an immediate blush to your face. that after a few moments, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and makes you feel like that was the nicest thing to ever happen to you.

you take a few calming breaths before opening your eyes, dropping them shyly when you see him looking right at you.

"see," he mumbles, placing a kiss on your cheek, and then the other, before a finishing one on the tip of your nose. "not possible."

a flustered, girlish giggle leaves your mouth that he can't help but also laugh at, rising from his spot on the swing before standing in front of you with his hand outreached.

"what?"

his lips turned into a frown before he kneels down in front of you again, placing his hands on your bony knees. 

"as much as i don't wanna leave you right now, i gotta get you home."

true to his word, he gets you home five minutes before ten, silently hoping your dad notices and logs in it the back of his mind where his lack of church attendance is also stored.

because even though he sleeps in on sundays and kissed his daughter two more times, he's really hoping he'll be okay when he comes to pick you for date number two next week.

date number two turned into date number six and then over the next few months, you both had started to lose count.

if you weren't together at your house, doing homework and midterm projects in the living room, you were at the cemetery or playground. 

leaned back against his chest on a blanket, his arms wrapped around your waist as he hums quietly against your head. his hands grazing the small of your back as he pushes you on the swing and watches you tip your head back in the air.

tonight's date, however, was a surprise. 

he had told you on monday to clear your schedule for saturday, silencing you with a peck of the lips any time you pressed him further. your constant questioning served to be of no use because even in the car on your way to the surprise, he wouldn't budge.

if anything, he made it worse by then whipping out a blindfold and securing it around your face at a red light.

"do you trust me?" he had asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you only let out a sigh, lips turning into a pout because "of course i do." 

that right there sealed your fate for being completely blind for the next twenty minutes.

you feel the the car suddenly stop, the scent of salt hitting your nose through the open window and making your eyebrows furrow together; you had never smelt anything like this before.

"i'm gonna get out and open your door, okay?" he tells you, the sound of his door shutting quickly followed by yours opening. 

you reach out your hand for him to grab, a foreign softness under your sneakers when you step out. he guides you for a few minutes with your blindfold still on, letting out huffs and grumbles every now and then that were silenced by his laughter.

and then when you hear what sounds like crashing water and the loud chirp of a seagulls, you hear his voice from behind you tell you take it off. 

a gasp leaves your mouth that lights up his entire face.

"number three, see the-"

"ocean!" you squeal, turning around to throw your arms around him gratefully. his laugh is muffled against your head, lips pressing a kiss on top on your hair.

"thank you, seonghwa," you say, tightening your arms around him as you press your chin into chest, looking up at him with a bright, excited smile. he can only find it in himself to smile back, take your face in his hands and place another full kiss on your lips.

luckily, your kissing has gotten a lot better with practice. 

pressing up on the tips of your toes to deepen it, your mouths gliding and parting as a breeze from the ocean hits both of you. when you pull apart, his eyebrow raises mischievously, both at your new found boldness and the prospect of exploring the ocean, so he takes your hand in his.

"you're welcome, baby. now let's go."

he pulls you toward the water as your giggles ring through the salty air, squealing when you feel the freezing water on your bare feet and jumping in seonghwa's arms when a big wave splashes up and hits your leg.

he completely uses that to his advantage, tightening his hold on you and running further out into the ocean. he doesn't care that his pants get soaked and his feet go numb, because your loud laugh and squeals of his name have come to be his favorite sound.

you eventually jump down and deal with the consequences that are freezing bones and a wet dress, running away and splashing through the ocean before he catches you by the waist and twirls you around.

but then he notices that concerning, lethargic wave hit you when you grab onto his arm, something he’s been noticing more and more of these past few weeks together. 

he quickly ushers you out of the ocean, guiding you onto the towel that he laid out as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"what happened?" he asked, voice full of concern. "are you okay?"

you insist the you're fine. that the waves of the ocean were rough and that you're not used to it. 

you push him down when he asks again if you're okay, allowing your head to rest on his chest and watching the waves crash onto the shore as the sun sets below the horizon.

"i can't believe you took me to the see the ocean," you mumble against his chest, still in disbelief that this is the same seonghwa you've known your whole life. 

the same seonghwa who constantly wore a pissed off expression, punched anyone who looked at him funny and yelled at you during tutoring.

"i like to see you happy," he says, his words genuine, without a single hesitation which makes you burrow your head and smile into his wet shirt. "which is why i have another plan for us."

you perk up at this words, lifting your body and sitting cross-legged beside him. "another surprise?" you squeak excitedly, reminding him of a child on christmas day.

"yup, another surprise for my girl," he says teasingly, sitting up to peck your cheek. "and if you say yes, you'll be my tattooed girl."

he has to keep his poker face on but it proves to be a challenge with the way your face drops, eyes wide and skin paling as you stare at him blankly. "wh-what?"

"yeah, i figured we'd just cover number four too," he says sweetly, faking it just a little bit to sell his point. "so i looked up tattoo shops around here and-"

"what?!" you squeal out again, feeling panic start to creep in your veins. "seonghwa! i-i can't actually-"

"but why not, baby?" he asks, the smirk tugging at his lips uncontrollable. "it's on the bucket list."

"okay, yeah, but you don't have to do everything on it."

his eyes narrow at you, tapping you on the nose that you naturally scrunch. 

"i think you do when there's only four things on it." 

your eyes remain wide and panic-stricken, staring at him mouth agape like he's grown five heads.

"seonghwa," you manage to get out, "you have to be- you're joking, right? you have to be joking. i can't go home to my dad with a freakin'-"

your words halt when you watch him throw his head back in laughter, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into him. 

"of course i'm joking, baby. do you really think i'd bring you home with a freakin' tattoo?"

heat rushes to your cheeks as you push him over, slapping his chest playfully and yelling at him for being so mean and scaring you. he's quick to push you onto your back, holding himself above you and peppering kisses over your face and cheeks as an apology.

"that's why i got these," he says after he pulls back, fishing in the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out five white cards. your eyebrows pull together in confusion, lifting yourself up and gasping when you see an array of temporary tattoos.

"these are perfect!" you squeal, taking them in your hand and examining each of them as if they're not gonna fall off by the time you get home; after careful consideration, you pick out a purple butterfly.

"i want this one. you pick now," you tell him with a smile, laughing when he goes with the identical butterfly in pink. the both of you run to the ocean, securing your tattoos in matching spots with cold salt water.

"this is so nice, imagine i really got one," you say, twisting your wrist as you hold your arm out in front of you. you look over to see him watching you softly, feeling a blush creep up on your face.

"what?" you say, shy embarrassment suddenly in your tone.

"nothing," he says causing you to shrug and look back at your tattoo.

his brain screams at him that he has to tell you, that this night can't end without him telling you and that it’s most definitely not nothing.

ten minutes later, with your head resting against his chest watching the steady ocean waves gain, he quietly says your name. 

you hum questioningly against his chest, feeling your eyes grow heavy at the tranquility of... everything. of his presence and the ocean and the way your life just seems so-

"i love you."

and just like that, all the tranquility is gone.

you rip your head away from his chest, eyes darting to his to see such raw vulnerability and love shining in his eyes. you can't control the way your own widen, the way your heart and stomach twist and turn into knots and make you feel even more nauseous than usual.

because he can't love you. he can't. 

something could happen at anytime and take you away from him and then what's gonna happen? you can't be responsible for hurting him and making him feel sad, even if you're-

"now would be a good time to say something," he says lowly, feeling his heart sink at the evident panic on your face.

but then he starts to panic when he sees your eyes fill with tears, backing away from him slightly as you shake your head at him.

“y/n?” he asks, holding his hands out as he walks closer to you, proving he’s not a threat to you.

"and on one more condition, seonghwa."

he raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as he looks at you awaitingly. because he knows it's probably gonna be something stupid like to try his very best or make it from the heart. but the last thing he expects to hear is:

"you have to promise you won't fall in love with me."

"uh...yeah, okay, that shouldn't be a problem."

"i.. i told you not to fall in love with me."

his heart sinks at the flashback, watching tears stream down your face and not being able to help the way he reaches out and takes you in his arms. he thinks you're probably just scared and vulnerable, not used to the feeling of loving someone and giving another person your entire self.

but neither is he.

and that's why, with his lips against your head, he tells you not to be scared.

 that he'll wait until you're ready to say it back and that you'll learn to do this together. 

he thinks it must calm you down a little because your arms wrap around his waist and you burrow your face in his damp shirt, muffling your cries and sobs against his shirt.

but your cries and sobs only continue later the night, putting on a strong front for the car ride home. 

seonghwa kept his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and occasionally bringing them up to his mouth to kiss; every time he did it, you looked over and smiled at him and tried to show through your eyes how much you loved him back.

but then the second you got home and your dad saw your face, he knew.

"did he tell you?" he asked gently, his heart breaking at the sight of your red cheeks and teary eyes. 

he watched park seonghwa fall in love with his daughter before his very eyes, the more evident it came the more awful he felt in his gut about it.

you can't even talk without sounding broken so you only nod your head, nearly collapsing onto the couch and hiding your face in your hands.

"you knew this was gonna happen," your dad says, not wanting to say i told you so but knowing from the start how reckless and tragic this was gonna be. "you have to tell him. be fair to him, y/n."

but nothing's fair. 

nothing about any of this is fair and you should've known life was getting too good. that you should've been expecting what tragic events were about to come.

“let’s take our bets now,” san says from his table at lunch. “is he gonna sit with her today?”

“when was the last time he sat with us?” yeosang grumbles, looking around the boy’s faces that hold a mix of anger and hurt. “he’s definitely not.”

they hadn’t seen much of seonghwa at all, really. 

missing him by the time they all gathered in front of the school after the final bell or going to his house on the weekends just for his mom to inform them he’s already out. 

and while most of them didn’t care, the older boy with hard eyes and a ticking jaw has been taking the ‘betrayal’ the worst.

“who knew he’d become such a little bitch,” hongjoong snarls. “and for her, nonetheless.”

mingi and yunho share a look, the two of them kind of caught in the middle; they’re best friends with hongjoong, have been by his side since elementary school and don’t intend on breaking that alliance. 

but they’re also close with seonghwa and see how different he is now. 

how much happier he seems because you’re in his life. they had even met you briefly after school and while you were a bit shy, there was something genuine and warm about your smile that they instantly liked. 

“she’s good for him, i think,” yunho dares to say, hongjoong’s narrowed eyes snapping to him. 

“how could she be?” the boy snarls, embarrassed that anyone he associated with could be connected to the snobby, holier than tho type like you. “i bet she doesn’t even put out.”

“i bet it’s not about that,” mingi says quietly, stiffening ever so slightly when he notices both of you come through the door. 

and like seonghwa always does, he sends them a nod of his head before sitting down across from you. your bumping arms and loving smiles make it obvious to everyone what’s going on between you two. 

hongjoong can only watch for so long seonghwa be a ‘lovesick bitch’ towards you. rolling his eyes when he watches him fawn over you, getting your food and drinks and not allowing you to lift a finger. 

(he doesn’t know it’s because seonghwa’s getting more and more concerned about how fatigued you’re growing throughout the day, something in his gut telling him it’s way more than you forgetting to drink water or not getting enough sleep as your excuses say). 

when he watches his friend tuck your hand behind your ear lovingly, a move they both would’ve laughed at before seonghwa lost his balls, he decides it’s time to get his friend back.

“what’re you doing?” he hears his friends ask from behind him but he only waves them off, stomping towards the table and rolling his eyes when you meet his gaze first. 

“seonghwa,” hongjoong says, annoyance already in his tone. the boy looks up and he stiffens, immediately recognizing the look in his friend’s eye.

“hey,” he says, voice tight and cautious. 

do not fuck with her.

“are you done with this shit or what?” 

the anger bite in the boy’s words has your head dropping immediately, eyes focusing on your lap as you try to properly prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

that’s exactly what happens the second seonghwa asks “what are you talking about?” because it’s like hongjoong goes off the rail, scoffing as he looks at his friend. 

“you’re kidding, right? you haven’t sat with us in months. we haven’t even hung out.”

“i’ve been busy...” seonghwa says but it sounds more like a question, completely thrown off by his friends odd behavior - what is even getting so mad about?

“with what? your girlfriend?” the last word twinged with disgust.

seonghwa’s eyes travel to you and the second he sees how uncomfortable you are, he stands up and towers over hongjoong.

“we can talk about this later.”

“no, i think we should talk about it now,” hongjoong says condescendingly, everything about his tone and stance making seonghwa’s fists clench. because he can tell it’s making you more and more uneasy. 

“what the fuck is your problem?” seonghwa asks lowly, pushing his friend back. 

“my fucking problem is you dropped all of us the second this bitch came along.”

the first time you brokenly get out “stop,” is when seonghwa’s immediate reaction is to grab hongjoong by the collar of his shirt, the low mumble of student’s voices when they see the first inkling of a fight. 

“don’t call her that.”

a sadistic smirk crosses hongjoong’s face as he stares into seonghwa’s dark, blazing eyes, seeing just how quickly he’s about to lose his control. the boy’s eyes then flicker to you, looking at them fearfully.

“let me tell you, y/n. your pussy must be something, i-”

seonghwa lands a punch on the boy’s face before hongjoong’s back is slammed against the wall, a hand around his throat as his eyes blaze down at him. 

"you better shut the fuck up.”

“why?” hongjoong laughs out despite the crushing weight on his windpipe. “you mean we’re not gonna share? i think we’re all very curi-

you hear yourself begging seonghwa to stop when he drops hongjoong to the ground, giving him a few forceful kicks in the stomach before the rest of the boys jump up. 

they grab the back of seonghwa’s shirt as you join them, trying to block out the way hongjoong and him are screaming and cursing back and forth despite the pounding in your head.

whether it be from the chaos of fighting or you’re already weakened, fatigued state, your vision blurs and your brain feels foggy before you whisper out seonghwa’s name. 

you feel an unfamiliar pair of strong arms around you before passing out and your world turns black. 

yunho carries you out to his car, mingi attempting to calm down seonghwa who hasn’t stopped calling your name frantically, cursing hongjoong and saying how this is all his fault. 

the two boys are quick to ground him, tell him that that’s not what’s important right now and instead deciding where to bring you. 

seonghwa rakes his fingers through your hair, your head lolled in his lap and he feels sick looking at how pale and sunken your face looks. 

“baby, what happened to you,” he mumbles out, his long finger coming out to trail over your cheek.

the second yunho pulls up to your house, seonghwa picks you up bridal style and rushes to your front door. your dad catches the sight through the window and nearly collapses in fear. 

“what the hell happened?” the older man asks frantically, terrified and haunted by how you look lifeless in the boy’s arms. 

“she passed out at school,” seonghwa grunts out, mingi and yunho awkwardly standing in the doorway watching him barrel through your house and rest you on the couch. 

he kneels down and runs his fingers through your hair again, the lump in his throat making it nearly impossible to speak. 

“i-i don’t know happened. she said she was feeling tired but-”

“you have to go.”

his head snaps up at your dad’s words, the man watching him with hard eyes and a pale face. seonghwa can only squint his eyes at him, shaking his head as you takes your hand in his.

“with all due respect, sir, there’s no way i’m-”

“you are,” he says, his voice hard and firm and such a contrast to the peaceful way he speaks in church. “you shouldn’t even be with her.”

the statement takes seonghwa back, his eyebrow raising as he squeezes your hand before standing up. 

“what?” the boy asks, making his way over to your dad. “why?”

“seonghwa, maybe we should just-”

“no,” seonghwa growls, his head snapping to the doorway before back at the older man. “why shouldn’t i be with her?”

the pain and worry in seonghwa’s eyes is overwhelmingly obvious, the love and care he has for you completely genuine and real, but right now that’s not your dad’s concern. 

if you were a normal, healthy teenager, he knows the boy in front of him would be perfect. 

but you’re not normal or heathy and adding another person into this mix of hurt and worry and pain is something he just can’t do, even with the fact in mind that you love him and he loves you. 

he knows it’s not his call to make and he’s being incredibly selfish but he does what he thinks is best at the time.

“because she’s too good for you. she deserves more and it’s selfish of you to think otherwise.”

the room, the house, the entire world seems dead silent after those words leave his mouth, seonghwa not only taken back and pained by the fact he said it but because it rings slightly true. 

he’s known since this started that you were too good for him and he didn’t deserve you. he’s been trying to prove himself worthy by treating you well, listening to all your dad’s rules and just being patient and loving you.

“i...even though that’s true-” seonghwa begins to say but the older man takes a step closer to him, his face full of anger and frustration as he tells him once more to leave. 

that’s when mingi comes in and grabs seonghwa by the arm, the boy fighting against his friend’s hold as his eyes move back to your unconscious body.

“mingi, fucking stop,” he screams, fighting against his friend’s hold and feeling himself grow more and more anxious the further he gets from your house. 

the hold on him doesn’t loosen until he’s put into the car, the two boys jumping in front and turning to see him bouncing his knee nervously. 

“how am i not supposed to be there,” seonghwa says as he looks at your house. “she’s gonna wake up and i’m not gonna be-”

“she’ll be fine,” yunho says gently, mingi nodding in agreement before adding on that your dad is there and everything will be fine. that you just need to rest and that you can talk tomorrow.

when seonghwa visits your house, both, saturday and sunday morning, your dad turns him away. 

tells him you’re too sick and can’t be around people right now. even when he pleas for just five minutes, just to talk to you and see with his own eyes that you’re okay, he still says no. 

it’s not until the man slams the door in seonghwa’s face that he lets his hard exterior down, his body deflating and eyes stinging because he hates that he has to do this. hates watching you sit on the couch not meeting his gaze.

“y/n, i’m doing this for-”

“don’t say it,” you snap. “i’m going to school tomorrow and i’m telling him.”

your dad lets out a sigh, sitting down next to you on the couch and running his hands over his face. “the doctor said...”

“one day isn’t gonna kill me,” you say, “i’m already dying.” 

your dad’s face falld before he quietly mumbles out his approval and goes into the kitchen, both of you crying separately, pretending like the both of you aren’t doing so, and wondering why this had to happen.

the tears just follow into monday, holding them back all day when seonghwa catches you before first period and takes you in his arms. 

“you scared me so much,” he mumbled against your head, his tight hold on you nearly crushing you but you don’t care; you both need this and you’ll only need it more later. 

later being when the library cleared out after tutoring. 

seonghwa noticed you purposely lingering by wiping down the tables and slowly putting your things away. he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to lean against the wall and admire you moving slowly around the room.

the room where you guys got to know each other. 

where you went from strangers to friends and watched each other grow. 

where he remembers being so defensive and wary of you because he couldn’t believe someone like you actually existed. 

you feel his eyes on you and smile at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“what?” 

but he only shakes his head, holding his arms out in front of him and causing you to roll your eyes; who would’ve guessed that the man with every full intention of ignoring you would grow to be the clingiest boyfriend known to man?

not that you’re complaining. 

you’re quick to make your way over and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his chest and his hold on you tight and warm.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, not being able to shake the feeling that something’s wrong with you. 

your stomach plummets when you realize the conversation is about to happen, that nothing is stopping it and now you’re here finally about to tell him.

“i’m okay,” you say, standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. his smile quickly falls, however, when you add on. “but there is something i need to tell you.”

his eyebrows furrow at the seriousness in your tone, taking one look in your already glossy eyes and seeing something is seriously wrong. as nervousness floods through him, he takes you by the hand and leads you over so you both can sit down.

“what?” 

his panic starts to increase more and more as the silence between you stretches, your tongue licking at your dry, chapped lips and your pale skin nearly translucent. 

every time you try to get the words out, he sees you close your mouth and eyes well with tears.

“you’re freaking me out, baby,” he says, squeezing your hand before taking the other. “please, just tell me.”

“i’m...i’m sick,” you eventually get out, swallowing the lump in your throat because you know that’s not good enough. you know that when his eyes narrow and he says he knows, that your dad told him yesterday, you just have to say it.

your first set of tears and sobs finally come, your face falling into your hands as you shake your head over and over. he thinks that scares him more than anything, watching how fast you break down and sob out apologies, barely able to acknowledge his arms around you.

“y/n, what? what is happening? please tell me.” 

you pull back and wipe the wetness off your face, lip trembling and voice shaky when you’re finally able to gather the strength. 

“i have leukemia.”

the words don’t sink in at first, his heart reacting but brain convincing him that, no, that’s not what you could’ve said. there’s no way you could have cancer. 

“no,” he says, shaking his head as a humorless laugh leaves his mouth. “you’re- you’re perfect, you can’t-”

“i was diagnosed two years and i’ve stopped responding to treatments.”

you watch through tears and a breaking heart as his head falls into his hands now, breathing in and out like he’s trying to prevent himself from having a complete panic attack. 

there’s no way you could have cancer. there’s no way you could have cancer and be dying when you’re a perfect high school student. there’s no way you would’ve kept something like this from him.

“and you... you’re just deciding to tell me this?” he asks, his head snapping up so you can finally see the tears in his eyes. “why the fu...why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“i didn’t want you to feel weird or be different around me,” you whisper out quietly, “i was just gonna try to go on with my life and be normal and then just... die quietly or-”

he shoots up from his seat, the clattering of the chair falling back causing you to jump. you watch him pace around the room like he’s unhinged, his hands pulling at his hair as he shakes his head.

“die quietly,” he snarls out, his jaw ticking and tight and he wants so badly to punch something. “die quietly. what the fuck does that even mean?” 

you can only cry quietly watching him pace and digest the news, your head hanging low as the salty tears seep onto your lips. he’s walks over to you and kneels down, his hands on your knees as he looks up at you with teary eyes. 

“please tell me this a joke,” he says, his voice wavering and wet and broken. “please tell me you’re not...”

you can’t tell him that, so you don’t say a word. 

and it’s like that’s all the confirmation he needs to know his girlfriend, the first person he’s learned to love and the first person to ever see something in him, is dying.

he completely falls apart in your lap after that, cries wracking his body as your hands run through his hair. it’s the first time in two years you’ve ever felt scared to die. 

your condition worsens over the next few days, landing you in the hospital and seonghwa in a depression. he doesn’t leave his couch or eat for three days, his mom softly cooing and begging to tell her what happened. 

but it’s like he’s lifeless, his eyes void of anything but sadness, and it’s a sight that his mom can’t stand to look at any longer. 

she had noticed the change in her son immediately, used to his usual teen angst but quickly realizing this was so much more than that. 

she called out of work and sat down next to him, not saying a word but just stroking his hair the way she did when he was a child. 

she didn’t press him about anything, didn’t ask if something had happened with the lovely girl he had brought home weeks ago or if he wanted to talk about anything.

after an hour of just sitting with him in silence, he finally had the strength to say it aloud.

“my girlfriend... she has leukemia and she’s dying, mom,” he said, so straight-forward and matter of facty, like he’s not able to grasp that he’s talking about you. 

the woman feels her heart break for a moment, her eyes swarming with tears as she wraps him in a hug. 

“i don’t know what i’m gonna do,” he says once he’s able to speak again. “i... what am i gonna do without her? i love her.”

“i know you do,” she says gently, her heart truly aching for the both of you right now. “but she’s still here, seonghwa.”

the boy can only look at his mom watching him with her soft gaze, knowing his own face is a red, tear-stained mess. 

“what?” is all he manages to cough out.

“you should be with her right now, while you still can,” she says, not wanting to upset her son further but knowing he needs to hear this. “enjoy the time you have and make what she has left worth it. you both need that, don’t you?”

that was just the kick he needed to get off his couch and charge over to the hospital. barreling into your room and feeling tears come to his eyes again at the sight of you in a hospital bed. 

“seonghwa,” you weakly say, your lips quirking up when you see the boy standing in the doorway. your heart lifts when he smiles back at you, cautiously making his way over to you and whispering out an apology. 

“it’s okay,” you mumble out, leaning into his touch when he places his hand on your cheek.

“it’s not baby. i was an asshole.”

the last thing he expects to hear you do is giggle, sunken eyes shining as you look at his confused expression. 

“what could you possible be laughing about right now?”

“just that it takes me dying for you to admit that you’re an asshole.” 

and perhaps it’s too soon for you to be making jokes like that because his face falls as he backs away from you.

“that was a joke,” you say quietly, pouting in hopes that it’ll get him to lighten up. his lips only form into a thin line, teary gaze shooting around the bare hospital room before back at you.

“it’s not funny.”

you hold your arms out to him, uttering a tiny “come here.” he falls into them immediately, his head burying in your neck and you feel tiny, tears hit your skin ever so often.

“i’m sorry,” you tell him, feeling your own sorrow hit you. 

you’re not only sorry for your comment but sorry that you waited so long to tell him. sorry that you’re now putting him through this and that he’s gonna have to watch you grow weaker and weaker.

“please don’t,” he mumbles against your head. “you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

he knows by the look you give him that you think it’s a complete and utter lie but you really don’t have anything to be sorry for. he understands why you didn’t tell him and why you wanted to remain going on like a normal person.

because if you did tell him, he would’ve never dragged you all around the state on date nights and weekend getaways. he would’ve been far too concerned and nervous, fawning over you and choosing instead to do the same old thing you always did.

so you guys just agree to disagree, his lips crashing down on yours and you smiling against them before a very flustered nurse comes in and apologies for interrupting. 

given how much seonghwa never leaves your side, how from the second he gets out of school until he leaves (at his bribed time of 11:00 pm), you end up apologizing to every member of the staff. 

on the days you have the energy, you’ll walk hand-in-hand through the garden and slow dance with the elderly couple you’ve met; you guys had seen them dancing and they noticed your looks, smiling softly before all but forcing you to join them.

on the days that you have more often than not, when you feel tired and drained, he sits at your bedside or even crawls in next to you. 

your dad had walked in one night to see you both asleep on the tiny bed, seonghwa’s arms around you protectively with your head on his chest, and forgets that he never properly apologized to the boy.

“this is why i did it,” the man says to him the next day. 

they had left to get you soup you’d been craving, pushing seonghwa by his back and sending him a thumbs up despite the terrified expression on his face. 

“what?” 

the man looks at seonghwa as his eyes gloss over. 

“i didn’t wanna involve someone else in this heartbreak. i was... i was trying to spare you.” 

and while the boy can empathize with his reasoning, even feels slightly grateful for it, he finds himself shaking his head. 

“i love her.”

“i know,” the man says, putting his arm around seonghwa’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. how could he not when he sees the way you both look at each other? “she loves you too.”

“i know,” seonghwa says, smiling happily before taking a deep breath. “and that’s why i wanted to ask you something.”

and so it was a random wednesday night, summer break now in session and successfully keeping seonghwa at the hospital all day and night, when you completed your bucket list. 

when you whined at him to kiss you and his eyes lit up, like he was waiting for you to say something of the sort. 

“on one condition,” he says teasingly, his eyebrows shooting up playfully as your lips are just a few inches apart, so close to giving you what you so desperately want. 

“what?” you whine, your lips turning into a pout.

“marry me.”

the wedding was held at the church your dad preached out, a small group of your friends and family gathered for the celebration. it had been the happiest day of your lives, not a hint of a sadness or heartbreak despite the circumstances.

you ate and danced and sang like you were any other young bride, dragging seonghwa out on the dance floor who’s hold on you never loosened. 

he stepped on your feet and you got the cake in his nose but it didn’t even matter. you were able to get married and fall in love with park seonghwa and he was responsible for some of the best days of your life. 

seven months later, seonghwa finds himself walking through that same cemetery he (admittedly) followed you into. 

it was the place where he first realized there was something about you he was gonna fall in love with. where he saw just how much you were gonna effect and change his life. 

he had not only finally learned how to love but how to grieve. 

learned that he didn’t have to be destructive or hide behind his fake persona. that he had people in his life who cared about him and would be there to listen to him.

it’s how he’s coping day by day, knowing that the pain in his heart will never go away but that he’ll learn to live with it. that memories and reminders aren’t supposed to make you sad but serve as a way to carry on someone’s life.

with the blanket he has under his arm, he lays it out and places it in front of the grave. he drops down the flowers he’s brought every month since that devastating day and just begins to talk. 

“why do you come here then?” 

the question holds no malice or judgement, just a genuine curiosity that you perhaps understand. because while it's fairly common for people to visit their loved ones graves, its also something that some get uncomfortable by or don't understand.

"to talk to her, i guess. i think she'd wanna know what's going on in my life."

he mulls over your response in his head, nodding in understatement even though he doesn't really get it.

"what do you talk to her about?" and for the life of him, he can't understand why he's so interested in this. in you, all of the sudden.

you turn to look at him, slightly surprised that he's taking the lead in the conversation and showing an interest. but before he can misconstrue your gaze on him, you shrug your shoulders.

"anything really. i tell her about school or my dad's sermons or what i did during the weekend. sometimes i'll read."

he talks about his upcoming semester of school and how excited he is about it.

“i wish you’d be able to see me,” he says quietly, the lump forming in his throat making it difficult to breathe. 

he stands up to run his hand along the cold stone, his long fingers trailing over it before he moves back and looks over the engraving; a few moments later, he feels arms around his waist and smiles softly at the feeling. 

“you okay?” the soft voice asks him quietly. 

“yeah,” he says lowly, feeling the presence behind him move. “just telling her about school.” 

a quiet, soft hum rings through the air. 

“she’d be proud of you, you know.”

his eyes look over the grave once more before turning around, his eyes and smile softening. “i know.” he stands there silently, looking down at the headstone before picking up his blankets and saying his final goodbyes.

“see you soon, mom.” 

he turns around and meets your teary gaze, taking you in his arms and placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“no crying, pretty girl.”

the doctors had called your remission nothing short of a miracle, transporting you to a different hospital where new treatments were being held. 

you all had been convinced that it was gonna be a waste, almost denying the treatment all together and letting the spot go to someone who’s family hadn’t come to terms with their loved ones death.

but then seonghwa’s mom came in and softly encouraged you to take it, her hand holding tightly onto yours like she knew you guys were gonna need each other come the time.

“you say that every time,” you sniffle, pouting as he wipes at the tears on your face. 

“because you cry every time.”

your soft giggle rings through the cemetery, your hands intertwined as you walk out of the squeaky gate that always reminds you of the night you shared your bucket list. 

(the bucket list that now has way more than four things on it). 

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

Shouwa Genroku Rakugo ShinJuu:Descending stories Series Lookover.

So I know I'm kind of super late to the party on this one here. But I've just recently watched this anime show not too long ago, which is now one of mine personal top favorites anime series of all times in terms of well-done mature layered compelling storytelling. But I just want to add in while also giving my own thoughts on this who's is Shinnosuke “Baby Daddy” thing along with my other thoughts regarding the ending.

Now, I can totally understand also get why that some people or better yet a good number of some fans being seriously gross out or just plain put off from that “part” of the ending regarding the subject of Kikuhiko / Yakumo being Shinnosuke possible biological father by Eisuke. Honestly when it was brought up in conversation within the scene I really wasn't too freaked out or all that bother by it, cause for one thing this is Eisuke were talking about here, I mean the man while he isn't a awful bad character by any means ... but he is highly, super, extremely creeper noisy as hell! Even Yakumo within the manga series mentioned that he can be rude also inappropriately insensitive at times, or that he's got a real bad habit with his search for “knowledge & truth" were he sticks his nose into other people personal matters and business were he most definitely shouldn’t be. 

Especially when comes to Yakumo past for that matter. So him coming up with the theory of Yakumo being the possibility of Shinnosuke being made wasn't something I was surprise at nor was I shock at the fact that Konatsu refuses to either deny it or clam it was true or not, which I think fits perfectly within the realistic themes and elements of the story itself. For one thing Yakumo himself has kept a decade long secret of hiding the truth of how Konatsu parents were actually killed and leading mainly him to carry that heavy burden, guilt, pain, grief, shame also blame for so many years all for her sake alone . Because he would rather her hate him for the rest of her life then had her suffer similar to what he's been going through with knowing that she was basically responsible for her own beloved father / parent's death. Konatsu keeping the secret of who is Shinnosuke actual real bio father is to me her basically doing the same thing of what Yakumo did in order to protect her family & keep the peace. I also didn't think it was that controversial or messed up that she mentioned she might had a strong crush on Yakumo during her younger teens years. Which considering her already highly complex, conflicted, damaged emotions regarding Yakumo and how she felt about him growing up & such wasn't something I was too shock at upon watching the anime for the first time ever and seeing their strained contempt-fueled parental / guardian / child relationship.               

I think both the anime also the manga makes good cases here and there on Kikuhiko / Yakumo sexuality in terms of him obviously but also subtly not fully being 100% Heterosexual; its shows his lack of sexual interest towards women or the fact that Yakumo is pretty detach from his own sexuality. Showing him refusing to do anything sexual with Miyokichi or not even allowing her to touch him even though he loved her, I think his lack of interest within women could be based on his early childhood growing up and most likely being born in a geisha House probably had to do with it, also within the manga 10th volume extra chapter with Konatsu as a high schooler its pretty much makes it very obvious as well as clear as day that Yakumo was actually truly in love with Sukeroku. Also if a sexual encounter did happen between the two when Konatsu was a young adult, since she did got pregnant with Shinnosuke when she was within her early 20s, don't you think that Sukeroku would've brought it up within the Afterlife? Cause I feel he would hardly not talk about it or not bring up the fact that his super close best friend who took in his daughter and had sex with her later on & not be pissed off about that, I feel that considering how Yakumo is within the series with him holding onto so much deep-ridden guilt & blame over what happen with being unable to save both Sukeroku and Miyokichi and how internally broken he is inside. Don't you think he would feel the same way of some kind of deep guilt or awful shame for having to had sex with Sukeroku daughter who he has raised and take care of for over 10 to 20 years just cause she wanted the Sukeroku bloodline to live on & not died out.         

The fact that Matsuda still wanted to keep the truth of how Konatsu parents actually were killed and that both Yota and Eisuke never told her about it even though she might have probably already figure it out, says and adds a lot to the theme of this story . That life can be highly complex, sad, messy, sometimes fucked up, but also that there are some things within Life that are better left unknown also as well as better left unanswered.    

Whoever Shinnosuke real biological Dad is, whether its possibly maybe Kikuhiko / Yakumo or probably most likely Oyabun or some other character. I personally feel that at the end of the day it doesn't really truly matter either way, I think that Shinnosuke is basically the symbolic metaphor of three bloodlines coming together as one at the ending. That he is a lovechild of Rakugo but also a lovechild of Kikuhiko, Sukeroku, Miyokichi fused together of what maybe could've been between either one of them if not for tragic events or bad choices or just unfortunate issues. I think that the plot twist in itself adds so much more to that sense of the weird but also sometimes screwed up aspects of actual real Life regarding family secrets and familial dark history and bloodlines.   Also I feel that  "part" within the final episode shouldn't deter those of a overall well-written, well-developed, mature good storytelling anime that I've seen in a while so far.

[galactichen]

i’ll force the seas apart for you | bang chan

prompt #3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

description. because nothing is scarier than a captain fighting for the love of his life.

pairing. bang chan x reader

genre. romance, adventure, pirate au

word count. 2.3k

author’s note. decided that the world needed more pirate chan, so i delivered. enjoy pirate chan and his crew ;) this is definitely hinting at a skz pirate au hhhhh

warning. blood and gore. just pirate things

When Jeongin accidentally ate the last of their food rations, Chan didn’t get mad. He only expressed his disappointment in the youngest member of the crew before telling Jisung to steer the ship towards the nearest port to restock; they had a little extra cash from their previous raid to spend anyway.

When Minho drunkenly spilled about their next target in a bar filled to the brim with treasure-seeking pirates like himself, Chan didn’t get mad. He only sighed, quietly making his way back to the map he had built with Jisung, the crew’s navigator, to mark a big red ‘X’ over what once was their target. Jisung then proceeded to give Minho a piece of his mind when the latter arrived back to the ship, burdened with a terrible migraine, an angry Jisung, and a disappointed captain.

Chan still didn’t get mad when Changbin, in a fit of rage over an apparent spew over the captain’s ability to direct his crew, sliced off the arms of one of their allies, effectively initiating a war between the crews. It ended in terrible bloodshed; multiple casualties on both ends and a few of Chan’s key crew members badly injured with a frantic Woojin pacing back and forth between patients. They had to replace many of the planks in the ship, for they had been stained with far too much blood to simply wash out; it left them stranded on land for days and drained of gold for weeks until they could pinpoint their next raid for money. And yet, he only expressed gratitude towards Changbin, his first mate, mainly because the other crew was pretty shitty anyway and he’s been waiting all this time for a reason to cut off their allyship.

But when he sees you, all bloodied, beaten, and tied up to the mast of their enemy’s ship like some sort of sick sacrifice—that’s what makes his blood boil.

His knuckles turn a sickly shade of white from gripping the handle of his sword too hard, and it makes Woojin glance at him rather worriedly, for the mind of the medic was never not worried about the well-being of his crew—especially that of his captain.

“What is it that you desire?” Chan yells, and it makes the rest of his crew flinch because none of them were used to this kind of Chan; the kind of Chan who only appears when you, the love of his life, were in danger.

The opposing captain only grins—the sort of grin that sends shivers down one’s back because of the ferocity it holds, like you weren’t sure when they were going to pounce like an animal gone feral. He reaches up and tilts his cap back to reveal an even more ferocious look in his eyes, even in the glass one.

“Desire? What do I desire?” the opposing captain laughs, though empty of any humour. But then he stops abruptly, the silence that follows deafening before he slams his foot down, the look on his face suddenly contorting into that of a mad man. “Your ship. Give me that beaut’ of your’s,” he slurs, “and she,” he says, pointing to your unconscious form, your head leaning a little too far on one side to expose bruises that shouldn’t be there, “is all yours.”

The ship. Chan’s scowl only etches deeper into his face. His hands start to shake from rage. That’s what you were kidnapped and beaten and possibly—Chan doesn’t even want to think about what other unholy things they’ve done to you—all for what? His ship?

The ship that he inherited from his father? The ship that he and Changbin both sailed together by themselves to different landmasses, in search of the crew they stand together in front of today? The same ship that Hyunjin and Seungmin snuck into one night, seeking shelter and accidently got adopted by a whole crew of pirates instead?

The same ship that brought him to you and your brother Felix, where you were huddled in a corner with tears streaming down your face as Felix bravely tried to fend off a band of bandits by himself with nothing but a dagger before Chan and the rest of the crew arrived by chance?

“Don’t do it,” Changbin whispers quietly from Chan’s left. He knows how important both the ship and you were to the captain. He wasn’t about to make his captain choose between one or the other; the ship held an incredible amount of sentimental value to Chan, Changbin, and the rest of the crew. And you were, well, Chan’s biggest source of happiness.

They were going to find a way around this. Changbin was sure of it.

But he doesn’t get a chance to elaborate further when Chan quietly says, “Have it.”

Even the opposing captain looks stunned out of his mind when Chan accepts the offer of taking you back in exchange for his ship. Changbin doesn’t even try to hide the bewildered look that crosses his face. Was Chan out of his mind? That ship was so, so important to both him and Chan! That ship was gifted to Chan by his father. It held so many memories; why was Chan so willing to give it all up for this piece of shit of a captain?

Oh, how Changbin wished you were conscious so you could slap Chan out of it.

Felix taps Changbin’s shoulder and Changbin is met with a “is he serious?” look from the younger male, which makes Changbin shrug in response.

“That’s it?” the opposing captain all but shrieks, and his voice makes you stir a little, your head bobbing a little before you slip back into dreamland once more. “No fight? No ‘arrrgh you piss me off’ moment?” the captain flails his arms around for show, effectively demonstrating his shock.

“Quit pissing me off and give her back,” Chan growls. Don’t misunderstand; he’s pissed all right. He’s pissed that this joke of a captain was making him choose between his beloved ship and the love of his life. He wants nothing more than to slice that man’s head off clean with his sword, but the only thing that holds him back is the thought of the blood of his enemy splattering all over you—the thought of that ever happening to you made him gag.

But at the end of the day, the ship can be replaced.

You, on the other hand, could not.

The opposing captain halts his arm-flailing and turns only his head in Chan’s direction before hissing, “Nah.” He slowly lowers his sword and brings it close to his face, making a show of moving it across and even licking the blade. “Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, finally lowering the blade after a long, excruciating moment. “I came to see you get your panties in a twist, and I refuse to leave before that happens.”

Then he swiftly picks his sword up and makes a move to plunge it into your chest which makes Chan’s entire crew yell in panic, but Felix is quick on his feet and makes a frantic leap for the opposing captain, throwing the dagger that was in his hand and praying to god that it’d hit true and do something to stop what looks to be the inevitable.

Chan himself lets out an entire battle cry, throwing his own sword only seconds after Felix.

It’s slow motion as it happens, both blades flying in the air towards the opposing captain as he’s in the middle of thrusting his sword forward to your chest. 

The opposing captain’s sword strikes first, the blade meeting your body in a burst of pain that makes you wake from unconsciousness, mouth opening in a silent scream. But what everybody hears instead is the scream of the opposing captain instead, Felix’s dagger slicing into the skin of his hand clutching the sword, making him drop the blade before it could do further damage to you. 

Chan’s sword strikes next, the momentum of his arm giving it enough power to pierce through the captain’s neck as well as the crewmate beside him. Both of their eyes roll back and they tumble to the ground without another sound.

Then it’s chaos.

The sound of swords unsheathing fill the air, cries of men and women alike close behind as the bloodbath between two crews begins. Blood begins to fly and the ship they stand on quickly becomes a jungle as Chan and his crew try their best to dodge the flying blades and fight back, desperately defending their captain as he draws a second sword to fight his way over to you, guarded by two members of the opposing crew.

All Chan sees is red.

He was so close to being tricked and losing not only his ship, but you as well. All he could focus on at this moment was the developing bloodstain at the centre of your chest, your hooded lids fluttering open and closed as you frantically tried to get a gather at your surroundings. Woojin stands close behind him, waiting for the perfect moment to hop in and grab you so he could treat your stab wound as best he could, given the circumstances. Changbin’s not too far off either, but he was far too occupied with beating the shit out of anyone who dared to come within a foot of Chan and Woojin—the rest of the main crew was no different.

Limbs fly as Chan desperately swings his blade through the air, swinging at whatever dared to cross his path. Fortunately, the rest of his own crew was smart enough to stay far away from Chan’s line of sight so they wouldn’t accidently get mutilated by their captain.

“Quickly!” Chan shouts at Woojin just as he slices the head of one of your guards clean off. Woojin nods and doesn’t hesitate to dash forward in the path Chan has successfully cleared to you. Minho is at Chan’s side within seconds, and the two furiously fight to defend the mast of the ship where Woojin frantically works to carve at the ropes that bind you to the mast.

“Woo...jin?” you murmur weakly, recognizing the familiar kind gaze and sweet smile of the crew’s medic in front of you as he cuts through your ropes.

“That’s me,” he says with a smile despite the carnage behind him. He does his best to block your vision by making you look down at his feet, but then a head rolls along and—well, it’s the life of a pirate anyway. “You’re safe now,” he lets out a quiet huff as he cuts through the last of the rope that binds you to the mast, and with the little strength you have left, you push off the mast and fall into Woojin’s arms.

Another pair of arms lift you from Woojin and you fight back temporarily until Seungmin’s voice soothes you quietly, saying, “Hey, hey! It’s just me, it’s just me.”

“Hold her like that,” Woojin tells Seungmin as he reaches in his back pocket, likely for some spare gauze he always keeps on his person. He makes quick work of your wound, tying the gauze across your chest tightly as a temporary fix until he can properly clean and fix up the injury.

“Where’s Chan?” you ask the boys. You’re dizzy, you’re tired, and all you wanted was to be in the safety of the captain’s arms. Too long have you suffered in the cell of the enemy crew’s ship, beaten when you refused to let them use your body to their desire.

“Fighting for you,” Seungmin says.

“Either you die here, or you walk the plank,” you hear Chan snap at one of the remaining enemy crew members. The scream that follows is deafening and indicates the desire of the pirate to fight to the end; the deafening silence that comes after makes everyone breathe out a sigh of relief.

At last, the fight is over.

Bodies litter the deck of the ship, and it makes Chan grateful that he didn’t bring the entirety of his crew over, for they would have suffered even more losses.

Oh, but seeing you alive and breathing, Chan is reminded of why he came with his best fighters and medics in the first place.

“Chan!” you weakly call out when you spot him making a run over to where you’re being held up by both Seungmin and Woojin, for you were far too weak at the moment to be standing on your own. 

Chan chants your name over and over again when he finally reaches you, arms wrapping tightly around you as you cry out for him, desperate for his embrace because you were afraid you had forgotten what it was like after all your time in the cells. 

“My love, my love,” Chan whispers. Seungmin and Woojin quietly step away from the precious reunion, turning their attention to the rest of the crew to help the injured across the wide plank that connects their ship to the now-crewless enemy ship. Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin all run across when they’re given the signal that the coast is clear, happy that all went well in the end.

“I-I couldn’t,” you start to say, but Chan hushes you, leaning forward to kiss you briefly.

“Tell me after we have you fixed up, love,” Chan says with a soft smile after he pulls away, his smile a stark contrast to his previously enraged self. He then proceeds to pick you up bridal-style, to which you gasp and clutch onto his neck in response.

“Am I too-”

“Shh,” Chan whispers, nuzzling his nose into yours. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

You only nod in response, deciding to simply bury your face in the crook of Chan’s neck as he makes his way over to his ship, carefully stepping over the bodies that litter the deck as cheers erupt from the other side when the rest of the crew spot the captain making his way across with his beloved in his arms.

Because the captain’s beloved, was also the crew’s beloved.

[mystech-master]

F/GO High School/Modern AU BS

Me and @rex101111 have been talking about a modern/HS AU ft. as many Chaldean servants as possible. Here are the ideas we came up with (I am pretty much cut and pasting our message convo, so this is a mixture of both me and Rex's ideas):

Gil is the douchbag Senior everyone hates but his dad owns the school or whatever so he can do whatever he wants. The only decent person who willingly hangs out with him is his childhood friend Enkidu who's hoping he can un-douch his bro. He has kid Gil as his little brother and Caster Gil as his older bro who both agree that he sucks (Gil is the loser middle child of the family), Caster Gil wonders what Enkidu sees in his shit head brother. "He's too good for you." "Blow it out your ass." "One day he's going to wise up, see how much of a shit you are, and when you're all alone don't come crying to me." Caster Gil is in college studying political science, Kid Gil goes to a fancy boarding school. Archer Gil goofs off and throws parties

Scathach is a swimming class teacher, mainly b/c I recall underwater training being a part of Cu's regiment under her tutelage. People were jealous of the Cus for like two seconds when they find out the swim teacher is their mom, then they see her having them do an extra twenty laps and ignoring when OG Cu starts floating in the water. "CU DIED!" "YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!" while Scathach is like "you have two seconds to stop playing around before I ACTUALLY drown you" and he's back to doing laps.

Yeah with 4-5 Cus (if you count Setanta from Arcade) that is like 5 brothers.

Nightingale as school nurse, she is friends with Asclepius who works at a hospital associated with the school (strictly professional, but the students think otherwise).

Side note, keep in mind you can have multiple servants be the same type of teacher, just for different classes/grades.

King Hassan is the old Religious History teacher. Every one thinks he's older then the rock is the school is made out of. He has a scary face and a scarier voice but most students consider him the most fair and patient teacher in the whole school. He always gets a lot of food gifts before Ramadan form the students. (A few students, such as the Guda twins and Mash, call him gramps.) The other Hassans are his grandkids, like actual grandkids. He's super strict with them because he expects a lot from them. He always praises them when they do well though. He made sure they ALL got into his class and they've been living in fear ever since. They love their grandpa but by Allah they know not to disappoint him. The only one to ever get out of anything is kid Hassan (one of the hundred face). Cursed Arm is oldest, then Asako (the main hundred face), then Serenity.

"I am very disappointed in ALL of you, have you all lost your heads? I swear I-*to kid Hassan*-ah no Habibi not you you're fine here have a candy-*back to the rest*-I KNOW you're better than this!"

VERY traditional guy, Cursed Arm mutters "Oh for God's sake" while doing a pop quiz and King Hassan looms over him and growls, "No Blaspheming In This Class Room"

For the various Artoria/Arturias, I imagined Lancer and Lancer Alter being sisters, so Saber Alter is a cousin. That leaves everyone else to just be sisters with one brother. Mother Lartoria owns a casino and gas her own yacht in reference to the summer event where she became a Ruler. If you want MHX could be a part of the family as a massive fucking Star Wars nerd. MHXX and MHX Alter are her mom and sister (so MHXX is a third sister for the two Lancer Artorias)

For Irisviel, I remember in one of the Nero Fest things that she was called Therapist Iri. Maybe she starts to get into that b/c she wants to help her adoptive son Shirou (instead of a big fire like in Zero it can be an orphanage fire thing, similar situation but a much smaller scale) , so she is the school therapist/psychiatrist. Like Maruki in P5 Royal.

Iskandar died in his 30s, Waver is around his 30s as Lord El Melloi II. The two are old college friends who still hang out and Alexander is Iskandar’s kid.

If you guys want you can see this as the two being gay dads since I know that ship is popular.

Fran had an abusive father before Babbage and Moriarty got involved. In the og story, Frankenstien has a scientific mindset like his creator, here Fran has a talent in the field, but she also hates it b/c it reminds her of him. Like imagine being talented at the thing your abusive parent was good at/known for. Moriarty tried to get it into her that SHE'S the one with the talent, not her college dropout bum of a father, "From you tell me of him Victor couldn't engineer his way out of an argument with a cat, you have a magnificent mind my dear, not letting it flourish to spite him would be a horrible waste...it's your talent, your skill. Not his." He smiles that smile she loves that scares every one but she knows he only smiles like that when he is absolutely convinced of something, "and you can out perform him without breaking a sweat."

Moriarty teaches Fran sign language while Babbage teaches her some engineering.

Jekyll is going for a major in medicine with a minor in law (in the actual irl story Dr. Jekyll was a doctor in medicine and law).

For science associated servants, you got da Vinci, Babbage, Edison, and Tesla as possible science teachers.

The Jeanne sisters. Without the Avenger BS, the reason Jalter (or Joan as one series of fics calls her) could hate her here is just inferiority complex and being compared to her perfect saint big sister all her life. Joan does have her talents, based on the summer event an, but again she doesn't acknowledge her own talent b/c of her always being compared to her older sister., in the 7 counterfeit events she is a really good artist. And it is the typical thing of Jeanne actually being scared out of her wits of being less than perfect because of all the expectations thrust on her. She gets one A- and runs to the bathroom crying and Joan has to swallow her pride and actually have a conversation with her sister for the first time in years. Jeanne Alter lily puts up Christmas decorations super early, much to Jeanne Alter/Joan's displeasure.

"IT JUST TURNED NOVEMBER CHILL TF OUT!"

"CHRISTMAS!"

Martha is Jeanne's BF since middle school and has this HUGE dog that scares everyone and growls at anyone expect Martha and Jeanne. She calls him Terry.

Rex loves Penthesilea. and we talked at length about the situation between her and Achilles. Can you not tell that he likes a woman who can kick his ass *gestures to all of his Baiken posts*

Rex's idea: I think they had a fight when they were little and Achilles, being a little shit back then, made fun of her for being a girl, and Penth has been sore about it ever since. She keeps running into big misogynistic meatheads that reminded her of that and she just got angrier over the years. She's a wrestler and can knock out just about every dude in school by herself. Achilles is very regretful about back then and wants to apologize but Penth ain't having any of it.

My idea: I thought they were on opposing HS sports teams and when Achilles handed her ass to her he forgot to drink his respect women juice and then Penth got all pissed.

In this AU, Penth and Hippolyta's dad was a general who taught them how to kick the ass of men twice their size since they were seven or something.

Penth surprises everyone when a festival comes up and she gets picked to be the one to organize everything...and does a spectacular job. Another surprise is that she plans on being a business major when she goes to college (Obligatory Amazoness CEO jokes)

Bedivere is the Arturia Pendragon family butler with a prosthetic arm. He's also the security guard, last guy that tried to steal something or cause trouble got slapped right out of the window he sneaked in from.

Francis Drake and Artoria Alter Lancer are work friends (referencing them both being associated with the Wild Hunt in F/GO's lore).

Beni-Enma is the short and shorter tempered lunch lady, last kid who mouthed off at her during lunch got smacked upside the head with her spoon. She's sweet, but if you're in detention and have to help her in the kitchen she's a mini Gorden Ramsey, "IT'S RAW DECHI!!!" She can also come into the home EC class where Shirou is her best student. Also her roasting of the other girls like in her quest. Getting Fs in Beni's class is the worst, because it isn't just an F, it's a meticulous dressing down of exactly why letting into a kitchen should be considered a war crime, dechi.

The three Avenger Nobus are three different people. 1st Ascension is basically Archer Nobu, then you got Oda Kipposhi, and then the mom is Ascension 3 with Demon King Nobunaga. The youngest Ascension 1 Nobu is a musician. Demon King Nobu is one of those "super scary but also super polite people that only makes them scarier" type, basically a female koei Nobunaga from samurai warriors (check out some cutscenes form the games with him, he's a treat).

Imagine Demon King Nobu mom in a business suit.

Suzuka Gozen and Sei Shonagon are the textaholics who always talk in slang to the point of it sounding like they speak a different language. Murasaki is the librarian but Sei is like that ONE student who just makes her job so much harder.

Every week it's "No phones in the library Miss Shonagon." while Sei rolls her eyes and types out twitter post like "fugly ol librarian at my school needs a life lol"

Oui Katsushika is a gifted art student, and her dad (not a floating little octopus), is just a normal dude with a squid/octopus like beard. She's the teacher's pet in De Vinci's art class.

Eresh and Ishtar come from a rich family, Ereshkigal is the older sister so she had a shit load of responsibility to take over the family business while Ishtar basically gets to party her life away. Rin is the cousin they each try and swing their way. Eresh wants Rin to keep up her studies and get into a good university, Ishtar wants Rin to loosen the fuck up and admit that she likes that scrawny Emiya kid already.

BB is the host of a talk show downtown so she is kind of an absentee mom. Meltryllis has prosthetic legs that she specifically asked to be made into stilts b/c she wanted to be taller, and Passonlip has a massive rack that makes life difficult (either people staring, people assuming she's gonna be a home wrecker b/c said staring must be intentional, etc.), and of course he also has prosthetic arms to match her canon claws, obviously not as massive.

Hijikata is a very serious police officer but his wife Carmilla just uses this to have fun in the bedroom. They have two Dobermans. Hijikata's route has him patrolling near the school so most of the kids know as that scary police dude that has a picture of his wife in his pocket. One day a famous Idol called Eli-chan~ (yes spelled with the ~) is about to perform in the town and the kids can't stop talking about her, so Hijikata overhears. But, being the serious dude he is he shrugs it off until he sees a picture of this "Eli-chan~" and realizes it's his sister-in-law that came to visit and suddenly the influx of parasitic paparazzi near his house start making sense.

Carmilla: "Now you see why I hate them?", Hijikata: "No you cannot send the dogs after them honey."

She almost ran one of them over in her, very expensive, car and when that reporter says she should be locked up Hijikata corrects that would only happen if she had hit him...and she would be fined. For littering.

Okita Alter being Hijikata's partner, while Okita is her younger sister who's looked up to Hijikata since she was a little kid but she has asthma and such so she's afraid she might not get accepted.

Sigurd owns a metalworks shop (referencing his myth where he was raised by the dwarf Reginn), he met his wife Brynhildr when she was disowned by her overly controlling father.

Ozymandias, Nitocris, and Cleopatra are all the high board members of a company. Nitocris specifically got wind of Scheherazade's abusive husband situation and after getting said husband arrested, she offered Scheherazade a job.

Atalanta is a college student/TA who worked with Achilles' dad who ends up at their HS for a program or something, Achilles' dad has told him a lot about her.

Amakusa Shirou is an uncle married to the CEO of Babylon Gardens Pharmaceuticals, Semiramis. Semiramis herself is kinda chill if REALLY scary. She had to be pretty cutthroat to get to her position in the company, but Amakusa Shirou helped her mellow out, but she is still a massive tsundere.

"You know you COULD poison their lunch." "Semi, dear, I'm not going to poison my coworker's sandwich for being an ass." "It wouldn't kill them! Just a bit in their peanut better and they'll be stuck on the toilet for a week, no harm no foul."

Rex initially said Taiga would be an overly enthusiastic gym teacher but then I remembered that she was a homeroom/English teacher in Fate canon, but either or can do if you wanna be unique.

For Quetzalcoatl, Wrestling club supervisor when she isn't the senior year gym teacher. Some of the male students laughed that they didn't think a woman would know anything about wrestling. Two piledrives later, the students have earned a new appreciation for the importance on how not to be two pieces of shit. She's big on Lucha as in canon and during Halloween she gets JAGUARMAN to have an exhibition fight with her. They make a show of it but later on Taiga admits that Quatz could have CRUSHED her if they were actually fighting. She takes the wrestling club out for homemade Mexican food after tournaments

For Siduri, there's a bunch of rumors she's dating Caster Gil but it's strictly professional, Caster respects her too much to consider that. Archer Gil hits on her relentlessly, she manages to wound his ego more severely then anyone else simply by being unfailingly polite in her rejections and treating him like what he is, a teenage punk jumping higher than he can handle to land.

Ibaraki is Shuten's adoptive little sister after she was taken from an abusive mother, hence why Ibaraki looks up to her. Ibuki is either Shuten's big sister who had to take on a guardian role, or just her mom. Shuten and Ibuki have a bit of a strained relationship because Shuten saw the way Ibuki acted as they grew up, taking more and more responsibilities onto herself and refusing any distractions. And she decided that her biggest nightmare is to wake up one morning and realize she's turned into Ibuki so she tries to do everything to avoid that, hence their relationship not being the best. Ibaraki is kinda stuck in the middle because she wants to side with Shuten but she sees where Ibuki is coming from. Messy.

Caren is still Kotomine’s daughter, but he isn’t a good dad and in rebellion she sleeps around despite being a woman of god. Including sleeping with local punk Angra Mainyu. Angra Mainyu seems like a bad guy but he has a shit load of issues due to being blamed for everything going wrong in his old town, eventually coming to believe them and thinking he will cause nothing but problems. Caren banging him gives him a type of closeness he’s never felt, but under very warped circumstances.

For the Tamamo family, Vitch totally fucked her way up a corporate ladder or something, imagined Tamamo Cat working at a Cat Cafe if she were a Student. Tamamo no Mae accidentally fed her prev BF a food he was allergic too, and that kind of haunted her and scared her rep. IDK basically she seriously fucked up a previous relationship, either on purpose or accidentally, and that kind of hurts her deeply so she wants to start over with Hakuno.

Nero and Tamamo no Mae are rivals over this one guy.

Kiichi Hougen is the adoptive mom, Benkei is the family friend/uncle, Taira is Ushiwaka's older sister. Taira isn't on the best of terms with her family, some drama way back caused a rift and nowadays Ushi is the only one who's willing to talk to her and visit. Benkei never lets her go alone because he doesn't trust Taira one bit. Taira and Ushiwaka are Kintoki and Tomoe's cousins (I say Tomoe b/c apparently her husband and Ushiwaka were half cousins, with their grandpa having kids with their grandmas. I tried to make a whole family tree out of a few servants).

These are the ideas we had the most to talk about, if you guys have any suggestions for your fav servants in this AU, let either me or Rex know. Or just reblog and say them here. Who knows maybe you have a much better idea for a Servant we already mentioned.

[jojoimaginestories]

Thank you (Giorno Giovanna)

Thank you

Paring: Giorno Giovanna x Fem! Reader Words: 1699 Warning: Mild Language, Fluff, Protective!Abbacchio a bit, Bruno wants to play matchmaker, kind!Reader, a little bit dark but not EXTREMELY dark Requested By: None

**Gif not mine**

Some people would describe you as a broken soul. You were between this existence and the land of the dead. Some would say you had lost your will to live and were just trying to find someone who would give you that one shred of love you ask for. Some have just assumed you were extra baggage no one claimed. You were nothing, in their terms. Others, however, described you as something differently.

You did things for the kindness of others. They explained that you haven’t found your path and were a bit misguided by others. You were tossed on a beaten path and came out scarred. Well, they weren’t long. Life itself was scarring. It gave people wounds deep within, things that needed to be buried up and held inside.

Despite you being in your mid to late teens, your experience made people think you were in your late 20s. Wait until you tell them your age. Their jaws will drop in an instant. The first person whose jaw didn’t drop was your leader, Bruno Bucciarati.

Bucciarati had found you while you were young and easily influenced, but he knew really why you were the way you were. Years of neglect, searching for something to do, searching for a purpose. He was one of the men in your life that gave some meaning. The second, was Leone Abbacchio. Back in his cop days, he found you searching through a trash can trying to find food and he bought you something to eat. You were very thankful to him. The day you found out he wasn’t a cop anymore, you asked Bucciarati to find him and scout him. That day that Abbacchio joined, you were grateful. You had already met Fugo by that point, then came along Narancia and Mista. You had your own family, and had found a piece of something you had searched for.

The day Giorno Giovanna joined Passione, you felt that he had different intentions than the others. There was something about him that didn’t settle with you, but it couldn’t be that he was bad or anything. He was actually quite nice to you, in fact, he warmed up to you due to how close you both were age-wise. He opened up to you and Bucciarati more. Abbacchio had a thing against him, but the others were fine with him.

“Hey, Brat,” Abbacchio muttered towards you as you looked up to face him.

“Yeah Abba,” You asked innocently.

He ruffled your hair. “I’m gonna be gone on a mission for a few days. It’ll just be you, Bruno, and the other brat,” He hummed. “If he does something to you, I’ll fuck him up, alright?”

You blinked. “…Do you mean Giorno?”

He grunted at the sound of his name. “Yeah. I mean him. If he does something, I’ll make him wish he was never born. Alright?”

You slowly nodded. “Don’t threaten him like he’s going to murder me. We’ll be fine, alright? You better come back,” You stood and puffed your cheeks towards him. “Last time, we couldn’t play cards and you promised we would.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be careful.” He ruffled your hair again before walking off.

You watched him and the others depart, wishing them luck and waving bye. You saw Bucciarati turn towards you and Giorno as he nodded.

“I have to go somewhere for a bit as well. I won’t be back until tomorrow, hold down here (Y/n),” He nodded to you, then nodded towards Giorno. “Make sure she doesn’t get in trouble. She does that often.”

“…Not often,” You puffed your cheeks out. “But sometimes…”

“Exactly,” He chuckled and left.

You grabbed your book that you were reading and returned to your sitting position on the couch, leaving Giorno where he stood.

“What’re you reading (Y/n),” Said boy appeared near you as he looked at the book in your hands.

You perked up. “This is a good book! It’s about a knight fighting for a princess against the whole kingdom because she’s betrothed to another. It’s so cheesy, but I like it!” You grinned and looked up at him. “What’re you gonna do, Giorno? You can practically do anything while they’re gone to keep yourself busy.”

He stood up straight. “I might just go on a walk. I’m a bit hungry actually.”

You stood up next to him. You weren’t that short compared to Giorno, but you still had to look up at him. “Then let’s go! I know a place that sells home cooked food~!”

You dragged him along and giggled. His cheeks were a bit flushed.

--

You two spent the day walking around the city. You admired a lot of things, mainly scenery and little snacks you two decided to eat on your adventure. What Giorno did was admire you. You see, ever since he met you, he couldn’t help but feel attracted to you. He thought there was something enchanting about you, something he couldn’t ignore. He wanted to say something to you, but knowing who was there to protect you, Abbacchio would be first to deliver a swift ass-kicking to Giorno for tainting you. Though, really, you were simply an innocent girl just trying to find her path. And he wanted to be there every step of the way when you would soon find your path one day.

“Look, it’s (Y/n),” You both heard. “She looks so happy for once, maybe someone finally wants her.”

“Oh, I doubt it. I heard she’s a prostitute. She sells her body because she can’t find anyone who would want to touch her.”

You froze at the voices. Your happy exterior vanished as your mind became hollow. It was typical to hear things like that at this point, but it didn’t stop your emotions from feeling something from it. Giorno saw your face and thought. He breathed. He cupped your cheeks and made you face him. He pecked your lips gently and pulled away.

“Don’t believe them,” He murmured. “You are the happiest girl I’ve ever seen. Even I know there’s something enchanting about you, and rumors won’t change that.”

Your hollowed eyes returned your emotions as you stared at Giorno’s fiery-green eyes. He pulled away and tugged on your hand.

“Let’s get you some gelato. I want your smile to return.”

You stared at him as the two of you walked. You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around one of his. You stared at him in awe.

“Why’d you just kiss me,” You mumbled.

He blinked as his face got red. He looked away from you and rubbed the back of his neck. “I-I… I just wanted to, okay? Don’t think so much into it,” He murmured.

Your eyes glowed. “Do you like me, Giorno?”

“Of course, I do. Everyone in Passione does.”

“But do you LIKE me? As in, are you in love with me?” You smiled. “Do you?”

“…I may…”

You giggled. You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Then I’m in love with you too~!”

He looked at you. “Won’t the others hurt me for confessing my feelings for you?”

You shook your head. “No, just Abbacchio, but if I explained how you defended me, he’ll just reprimand you. I’m pretty sure Bucciarati had nothing planned and wanted us to be by ourselves.”

Giorno blinked in realization that the way Bruno left was a bit too sudden for his liking. “Huh… do you think that clearly?”

“I study people for a living, Giorno,” You winked. “It’s my job to.”

His cheeks flushed a bit as he smiled. “You should tell me more about it.”

“I will when you buy me gelato first~! That way, we can properly enjoy this date.”

--

By the time the others returned, they saw Giorno leaned against you as you were reading. You looked up and waved.

“Did you two fight while were gone? You both look tuckered out,” Mista chuckled.

“Aw, we missed the fun,” Narancia pouted.

“We didn’t fight,” You sighed. “You think so lowly of us,” You pouted.

Abbacchio’s eyes darted between you and Giorno. He glared at him. “Oi, brat, get off of (Y/n),” He muttered and almost kicked him.

You gasped. “Hey, don’t mess with my boyfriend,” You muttered.

They all gave you a shocked expression as Bruno sipped his cappuccino in a recliner. “I told you all leaving them alone was good,” He hummed. “Give me by bets now,” He held his hands up.

Fugo grunted. “You staged it, you know that,” He asked.

“It was just convenient.”

Fugo turned towards you. “Was this forced,” He asked. “I know you rush into things quickly, (Y/n).”

“No, this wasn’t force,” You waved dismissively. “I’m full of genuine feelings. Now seriously, he’s napping Abba, if you kick him, I will kick you.”

“She won’t hesitate either,” Narancia laughed. “She did that once and your headphones almost broke!”

“It was almost scary,” Mista shivered. “That’s why I stay on her good side.” He walked off.

Abbacchio still glared at Giorno. You leaned forward a bit and looked into his eyes. “He saved me from these women calling me out on the street, you know? One called me a prostitute and said that no one loves me. He reminded me that I am loved.” You smiled. “So be nice to him.”

He huffed. “Alright, fine, I won’t kick his ass. But he better watch himself,” He muttered and walked off. “I need a bottle of wine.”

“Thank you Abba!”

Giorno woke up from his nap as he looked up at you. “Why did I hear voices,” He asked quietly.

“The others got back. Bucciarati is now richer, Abba was a bit pissed but he won’t hurt you, Mista and the others are cool with it, and I’m pretty sure Fugo is going to punish Narancia with math. You didn’t miss much,” You winked.

“Huh. You did say that Abbacchio wouldn’t hurt me but reprimand me.”

You nodded sharply. “I’m a smart cookie! He’s just telling you to watch yourself.”

He chuckled. “You’re lively aren’t you? You’re certainly not hollow.”

Your cheeks flushed a bit as you stared at him. You smiled softly. “Thank you, Giorno.”

[iheartsunset]

Papa Louie Emery Headcanons (Amii’s PL pre-gen for Utah and Nevada)

(I love Amii’s OC so much and I’m so glad they asked me to write about them! I also got some ideas from @freezeriafan and I love their analyses too!)

@maznanangy @amii

-Emery Young-Freeman (she keeps Freeman just to rub it in her ex’s new wife’s face) is the 42 year old mother (if you can even call her that) of Nevada and Utah. She works as a bitchy office manager for Travel Trout above Ivy, who Emery keeps investigating because she is “very suspicious”. Emery has unfortunately re-emerged back into her kids’ life and now they dread existence. I feel like Emery lives in a small Tastyville house where she is a menace to her neighbors and the townspeople. Utah and Nevada go by the surname “Mahelona” from their paternal grandparents to both honor their heritage and cut off any connection to Emery.

-Emery grew up in an upper middle class family as the oldest of 2 kids. Her brother, Wayne Jewell (Wayne is also a county in Utah), is about 14 years younger and lives in Starlight City with his wife and their 4 sons. Their parents indulged in her difficult behavior and clearly favored her over Wayne, which was probably why she’s so messed up now. Okalani also used to babysit them, so she’s Nevada’s godmother. Emery was head cheerleader and Clark was a football player who was extremely smart. She basically just charmed him into doing all her assignments for her and they got married immediately after graduating. It was no secret to Clark or their daughters that she was cheating on him with multiple men and women as well as her abusing illegal substances. She even dragged Clark into it, and he was so ashamed after a while that he divorced her and made her go with him to Starlight City to get help. They both essentially abandoned their children and forced a then 16 year old Nevada to become the mother figure to Utah. Emery doesn’t really care about her kids at all and her reason for coming back was just to basically terrorize her ex husband who was trying to make up with them.

-She was totally a high school mean girl, not even a charming one like Regina George, she was more like Courtney from Jawbreaker or Marianne from Easy A. She’s also a complete Karen, always complaining, being a hypocrite, and a is a huge pessimist. She lies about the people around her, but is obviously terrible at it. The only redeeming quality about her is that she’s a hard worker and genuinely cares about the company, but that’s it, she’s not even nice or anything. She’s also stubborn, always staying or persisting with something that should be left alone (you probably don’t wanna get too involved with Ivy, I’ll just put that out there). Emery also might be going through a midlife crisis and likes to act like a teenager outside of work, often stealing clothes from her daughters or showing up unannounced to where they are.

-She, Quinn, and Sue used to be a polyamorous sort of relationship. Sue was only in on it because dates took stress off of her and Quinn just wanted a rebound because of her and Timm’s falling out. Quinn ended it after she proposed to Timm and they made up and Sue left because she met Mary. Despite this, Emery is pretty homophobic and claims it wasn’t even a relationship. She just sucks.

-Her friend group consists of Quinn, Sue, Mayor Mallow, Prudence’s mom, Vicki, Rico, and Rhonda. And by “friends”, I mean they tolerate her at best, except for Prudence’s mom because she’s just as awful.

-Emery isn’t a typical Karen, as she knows that vaccines work, the earth is round, and that wearing a mask is a good health decision. But Facebook Karens who run MLM schemes and give their children essential oils are the only people who tolerate her, so she likes to pretend in order to keep her friends. Emery also despises Minion memes, but will occasionally tag Utah,Nevada, Clark, and Ari in them to piss them off. Her PTA mom personality type would be Carol.

-She is one of only 3 people who have been banned from every single one of Papa’s restaurants, the other two being Guy Mortadello and Radley Madish. Utah at the Pastaria and Timm from the Bakeria banned her because she’s a jerk, but she was banned from the other places for verbally abusing the staff on a constant basis. She mainly just gets her miscellaneous boyfriends and girlfriends to get her stuff from there. She also likes to crash workplace meetings at Papa’s house just to rub it in Timm’s face that she used to bang his wife.

-She likes to eat tropical fruits and seafood. Her favorite food would be shrimp tacos with mango salsa and her favorite drink is a Hurricane (typing the word Hurricane as a Floridian makes me shudder). Emery also like coconut shrimp and sometimes sends some to her family, who just give it to other people because they don’t care.

-Alberto and Gremmie are Utah’s best friends and so they absolutely hate Emery. Gremmie plays all sorts of pranks on her and Alberto likes to hit her soccer balls on “accident”. But that’s nothing compared to Cameo, hoo boy does he not like her. He’s physically attacked her before because his love for Nevada is that strong, but it’s like she’s made of steel and always ends up whooping his ass after. Okalani, Kahuna, and Gremmie’s dad are extremely passive aggressive towards her too. Chuck is the only one out of all of them that will probably kill her both provoked and unprovoked.

-She is banned from every holiday and celebration that the Calypso Fam holds. It’s like Clark, Nevada, and Utah can sense her from miles away and they just automatically know not to answer the door. If she comes in, they just say “get the hell out of here, Emery”.

-She talks loud on the phone when she’s in line, and the conversations are usually not suitable to have in public. You can also hear music coming out of her headphones and she snaps at you if you bring it to her attention. She also has no phone case or pop socket, it’s just a phone. A plain, bare phone.

-She knows Ivy’s secret regarding the strange existences of Hacky Zak, CJ Friskins, Sweetheart, and potentially others. Ivy knows that Emery’s been too nosy, but she’s okay with it because nobody likes Emery and don’t listen to her anyways. What is the secret, you ask? Maybe in a future Ivy headcanons post will the truth be known...

-She named her kids after old states because the only class she was good at (besides PE) was geography. Why she never chose a name like Arizona or Florida for Utah we’ll never know, she was probably just being extra petty.

-Chuck has shot her with the pineapple gun before. Pineapple hurts. Not even the cold steel of Emery could deflect it. These are facts.

-Totally orders the most awful combinations of food and gets pissed off when it doesn’t taste good. Then she calls and complains about it and demands free stuff.

[janisarkisian]

We Fell in Love In December

Merry Christmas @nova-artino !!!! I was your gifter from the discord gift exchange :) I wrote a novissa one-shot for you a little over 2000 words. I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 2189

Pairing: Novissa (Nova Artino x Narcissa Cronin) 

Nova could barely remember what Christmas was like. Sure, she had celebrated it with her family, but the Anarchists had encouraged her to banish those memories from her mind. Acknowledging them would only make her hurt worse. 

“Hey, Nova!” Ingrid called to her hastily from the other train car. 

“Yeah?” She responded. Getting her thoughts interrupted by Ingrid had become a normal occurrence. There was always more training to do, fewer memories to remember. More errands to run, less time to relax. 

“Could you run down to the Cloven Cross Library to get me some bombshells?” Ingrid asked her. 

Nova, fifteen and eager to help, immediately responded yes and grabbed her flimsy coat. She had outgrown being cold long ago. Now she skipped straight to numb. They had never had enough money to go buy a real coat anyway. 

The streets of Gatlon had a new air about them. There were decorations, for Christmas she assumed, and everyone seemed happy. Why were they all out and around? Didn’t these people have to train? It was so easy for her to see why everyone was so incompetent. The Renegades only existed because people were too lazy to help themselves, and to be honest, the Renegades were a dictatorship. They made idiotic rules that they just expected everyone to follow. No one would ever even bother to help themselves because they had the Renegades. What would happen to the poor souls of Gatlon when the Renegades didn’t come? She knew there would be a day. It had happened to her, and she was sure it had happened to others. 

If she were to compare the cheer from the Cloven Cross Library to the cheer of the streets of Gatlon, the competition would be non-existent. There was a huge wreath on the door, and the small pine trees that were in front of the Library had been decorated more than Nova thought the little trees could handle. The white Christmas lights were in just enough areas to really make the aesthetic, but they didn’t overdo it. The whole area just had a cozy feeling that living in the subway tunnels had always lacked. Frankly, it seemed even more inviting than the cathedral had been. Then again, maybe that wasn’t saying much. 

The only thing that didn’t seem to be inviting was the large closed sign that hung over the antique door. 

There was absolutely no way that she could go back to Ingrid without those bombshells, and there had to be other alternatives. If Leroy were here, he could easily concoct a serum that would break the lock, but she was by herself. Normally, she carried a bobby pin on hand, which was very helpful for picking locks, but she had forgotten one in her haste. Her only hope was that maybe The Librarian had left one of his backdoors open before leaving for Christmas. Though it was very unlikely, she went to check the front door too. 

One of the things she had always admired about the Cloven Cross Library were the small windows that surrounded the door in the shape of an arch. From the inside, you could see the dangerous weather and know you were safe. From the outside, you could see friends reading, couples cuddling, and the fire roaring. 

Today, as she peered through, only one figure was pleasant from her cozy fantasy. Narcissa Cronin, the librarian’s granddaughter. She was a sweet-looking girl who was probably a year older than Nova herself. Her speckled, gray eyes were perfectly framed by her flaming red hair that shone under the light of the fire. Her lips looked effortlessly soft unlike Nova’s which were always chapped.

Even though she had initially had plans to try the back doors, Nova suddenly felt compelled to talk to Narcissa. She was curled up reading a book with a mug in her hand and Nova didn’t think she had ever seen anyone look prettier. Slowly, Nova raised her hand to the door and knocked. 

Narcissa looked up and started to shake her head no, but after a moment, Nova could see the realization in her eyes that Narcissa recognized her. She could see the small smile in Narcissa’s eye, the kind of thing that seemed like a dream and a perfect reality all at once. Or maybe she was just imagining it. 

As Narcissa walked to the door, Nova felt her breath hitch and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Narcissa started to get closer and she tried to compose herself. She was here for bombshells, not to look at pretty girls. 

“Hey, Nova,” Narcissa opened the door to the library and gestured for her to come inside. 

“Ingrid needed a few bombshells,” Nova replied lamely, unable to fully comprehend everything happening around her. 

“No-can-do,” Narcissa grinned, “Grandpa and I closed the library and the side-hustle yesterday.”

“Christmas?” Nova responded. Why would anyone close a shop for Christmas? To her, it was simply an overly-glorified day of the year and nothing else. 

“Yeah, Christmas.”

Nova watched as a look of something near pity spread onto Narcissa’s face. At first, she was a little offended. She didn’t need anyone to pity her or have feelings for her in general. It was just the Anarchists vs. Renegades and nothing more. Then, she realized Narcissa cared, something she had never felt before either. Sure, the Anarchists cared for her, but not in a way like this. The look on Narcissa’s face was so purely genuine that it nearly made her heart melt. 

Nearly.

“Well,” Narcissa spoke slowly and Nova turned her attention over, wanting to hear her voice, “I was going to do some fun Christmas-themed things before I meet up with Grandpa for Christmas Eve Dinner. Do you want to come?” 

It sounded fun. Fun. It was something the Anarchists would never approve of, but for once, just once in her life, she wanted to do something fun. Something that would piss them off. Something that would show them they didn’t own her, and that she could do anything and everything she pleased. 

“Sure,” she said firmly, though she could feel her face heating up. She had a feeling that this could be one of her best Christmases yet. 

***

Narcissa had taken her to a grimy mall on the South Side of Gatlon. The neighborhoods around here were mostly abandoned, and she felt the Anarchists would fit right in. 

The two of them had been in comfortable silence for a while when Narcissa spoke up. “So all I really came here for was a fluffy blanket, but if you want, we can go to some more stores. Do you have a favorite?”

Nova shook her head no. The only places she had ever really liked to go were hardware stores, and that was strictly for tools. She had never been allowed to buy real clothes of her own, mainly because the Anarchists had never had any real money. They had only ever had just enough to buy basic necessities like food or an occasional outfit. Things like fluffy blankets had always been out of the question, considering they could barely supply themselves with basic needs. 

“Wait!” Narcissa blurted out, suddenly struck with a new idea, “Not to be rude, but this mall sucks. Let’s go to my favorite 24/7 diner and get funnel cakes with hot cocoa or maybe egg nog. I mean, if you’ve never had either before hot chocolate is definitely the way to go. It’s like warm chocolate with whipped cream, and you can get it with peppermint if you like that.” She sounded so excited, and it warmed Nova’s heart. For the first time in fifteen years, she felt good enough to let her guard down. Even with Mama, Papa, and Evie, things had never been that way. She had always fought for survival. 

“That sounds really fun,” Nova felt herself blushing. Slowly but surely, her walls were crumpling and she knew the only reason for that was this girl, Narcissa Cronin. 

***

Walking into the diner, Nova’s senses were flooded with all different sensations. By a normal person’s terms, it might have been considered crappy, fast food. But this was the first real restaurant she had ever gone to and suddenly, she was starving. She hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours and she hadn’t intended to eat again until tomorrow. Narcissa walked over to a booth that was relatively far away from where they were standing, so Nova assumed it was a favorite of hers. She gestured for Nova to take a seat, so she slipped in, feeling the comfort and somehow homey feeling of the diner. 

She had expected Narcissa to slide in on the other side of the booth, but surprisingly, she slid in right next to her. Instantly, their shoulders brushed and they were close. Very close. She had never been this close to anyone before, especially people she wasn’t related to. She could practically feel the heat radiating from Narcissa’s body, and she had the urge to move closer. 

“Hey, Narcissa!” An excited waitress approached their table. In a way, the women reminded her of Ingrid, with eyes that could pierce her soul, but the energy was very different. She had an excited air about her, like she wanted everyone to be happy. To Nova, she looked like a huge Renegades supporter. 

“What can I get for you two today? Our Christmas-related specials are on that side menu. Should I go ahead and mark you two down for some of our special hot cocoa? You look pretty chilly.” 

She went to grab the small menu sitting near the wall of their tight booth, but Narcissa was too fast. 

“We’ll have two cinnamon funnel cakes and two hot cocoas with extra whipped cream and add some chocolate drizzle on hers,” Narcissa gestured over to Nova. She nodded in return to Narcissa, seeing that she was doing all the talking. Plus, being around Narcissa had taken away most of her ability to think. All of her thoughts had been mushed, and she hadn’t even taken her normal precautions like counting possible exits or looking for security cameras. 

“Oh wait!” Narcissa added before the waitress left, “Can we get it to go? I want to show Nova town square.” By the way she was grinning, Nova knew that she was in for a treat. 

***

Boy, had she been right. Town square was sparkling. There was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with more types of ornaments than she could ever imagine. The hot cocoa in her hands warmed her whole body, practically making up for the flimsy coat. And having Narcissa near her was the icing on top of the cake. She felt giddy, something that she had never experienced. Narcissa Cronin was the best thing that had ever happened to her. 

“So, what do you think?” Narcissa grinned, curious. 

“This is definitely the prettiest I’ve ever seen it. I don’t really get to come out often, and when I do, it’s with the Anarchists. Don’t get me wrong, I love them. I mean, they’re the only family I have. But sometimes, I want to do things on my own. So thank you Narcissa. You’ve given me an experience I would have never gotten.” 

It gave her a small joy to see Narcissa start to fluster. She looked like she was about to say something, but it ended up just coming out as a small “Thanks” and then her changing the topic. 

“So, is there anything else you want to do before I have to leave? I don’t want to keep Grandpa waiting.” 

Nova racked her mind. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Well,” Narcissa took a step closer to her, “There is one thing I want to do.” 

Suddenly, her heart rate sped up, and her pulse started to flutter. She wasn’t completely oblivious. She knew Narcissa wanted to kiss her. The Anarchists would never approve, but at the same time that was exactly the reason she wanted to kiss her back. 

“I think it’s the same thing I want to do,” She replied, her breath shaking, taking a step closer to Narcissa. 

They were barely inches apart now. As she gazed into Narcissa’s gray eyes, her breath hitched, and whatever knowledge she had left was no longer functioning. All she wanted to do was kiss Narcissa Cronin, and never go back. 

Narcissa breathed slowly. “Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly, her tone sending thousands of butterflies into Nova’s stomach. 

She nodded, but didn’t give Narcissa time to respond before she kissed her. It was a soft, dreamy kiss that sent Nova breathless. Narcissa’s lips were so soft, and they tasted like the hot cocoa they had been drinking. She could briefly taste the cinnamon from their funnel cakes too, a scent that made her stomachs do flip-flops just thinking about it. 

Finally, Narcissa pulled away. She put a firm grip on her hot cocoa and started to walk away. “Merry Christmas, Nova Artino,” She said, walking away, only to leave Nova exploding. This truly had been her best Christmas yet.