#no slow burn to be had here

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Deja Vu

hades!seonghwa x persephone!reader / prosecutor!seonghwa x florist!reader

past life/reincarnation au

genre and warnings: a lot of fluff, lots of angst, slow burn, suggestive, swearing, violence warning

word count: 22k

synopsis: you move to the city to open a floral cafe with wooyoung but encounter seonghwa by chance and become involved with him as he investigates the biggest drug scandal in the history of wonderland. however, a number of coincidences follow and you start to question if you were meant to meet him especially when you're plagued by dreams of another life with him. as the events of the past intertwine with the present, you both struggle to keep your feelings in check.

There were a number of things you had been afraid of ever since you moved into the heart of Sector 1 to live with your friend Siyeon after spending your whole childhood with your overbearing mother at the outskirts of the town.

Some of them included the ‘basic’ fears that you shared with your mom- you’d get into an accident, get kidnapped, get in trouble, etc. The list was never ending and also unlikely to happen if you had to say.

Your own fears were more like your mom paying a surprise visit to check on you, finding Siyeon doing something weird like she was always doing and take you back home. Or, she could be visiting the city and accidentally run across you and Wooyoung while you scrooged the area for a potential place for your cafe, find Wooyoung doing some crazy shit like he was always doing, and lose her blind trust in him and take you back home. You were surrounded by the craziest people but somehow, your mother trusted you with both Siyeon and Wooyoung.

However, as you grabbed the hand of a stranger and ran for your life while gunshots sounded behind you, your first thought was, now that’s one scenario I didn’t prepare myself for. Especially when you didn’t even know why you were running.

You ran from one street into another, his hand gripping yours tightly, until you took the lead and slid into a narrow alley, hiding yourselves behind large boxes. You both waited for the sound of running footsteps to fade when you finally looked at him-

And found a very familiar face staring at you. You frowned in confusion- you had definitely seen him somewhere, but you couldn’t recall where. And he, too, frowned as if he was trying to make sense of you. You scanned his appearance- he was dressed in a suit, his dark hair matted on his forehead, eyes sharp. You licked your dry lips. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”

“If you’re wondering why I dragged you,” he said and you thought his rich deep voice sounded familiar too, “Those men were after me. They wouldn’t have cared if you had gotten in the way- they would have hurt you.”

You rested your head against the wall, trying not to groan. You were out of breath. The man asked you to wait and went to check if the area was clear. He returned looking relieved and offered you his hand which you took to get up. He took out a card. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I’m sorry for involving you- investigation went wrong.”

You gave him a sceptical look as you scanned the card. “Must be a dangerous case you’re working on.”

“You could say that,” he shrugged. “Are you alright? You scraped your feet- let me take a look at that.”

Before you could protest, he was down on one knee examining the long slash across your feet. It wasn’t noticeable when you were running but it ached now. You stepped back. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It looks painful,” he bit his lips as he got up, looking guilty. 

“I didn’t even notice it before-”

“Let me accompany you to the convenience store then,” he insisted. 

“It’s not necessary,” you almost pouted but he didn’t look like he was going to back away. “Okay. I’ll accept that as an apology.”

He scoffed, urging you to follow him, watching you to check if you had a problem walking. Thankfully, you didn’t and you walked with him to the store which was a few minutes away. He made you sit inside and paid for the first aid and while you applied ointment on the wound, he made you some ramen and even got a few side dishes.

“You didn’t have to,” you smiled at the gesture. 

“I also need something in my system right now,” he sighed, sliding you the chopsticks. “I must say that I didn’t expect you to be this calm about it.”

You wondered if you could tell him that there were a number of scenarios you were more scared about, and most of them included your mother. “I’ve seen worse. Not guns,” you corrected when he raised his eyebrows at you. “But… yeah, nevermind. I guess I’m good at keeping my cool.”

“You must be, Miss…”

You told him your name and he nodded along, taking a bite of his ramen. You watched him curiously. “Is this your first time being chased like this?”

“Not really, no,” he replied. “Sadly, I’m kind of used to this now.”

“That’s a shame,” you took a bite, thinking. “I mean… what if something happens to you? Because you could have died- we could have died tonight. So if you die now, won't you have any regrets?”

He gave you a curious look and you memorised his face- he was very handsome, you noticed. You couldn’t stop staring at him and you were wondering if it was because you wanted to recall where you had seen him or because he simply was too handsome to not look at. He took a deep breath. “I would like to finish this case before I die. It’s more complicated than I thought and if I don’t get to the end of it, I’m afraid no one will.”

“That’s a work-related regret,” you pointed out in disappointment. 

“What about you?”

“Well, I also have unfinished business, quite literally,” you laughed. “I’m opening a floral cafe with my friend. I’ve been dreaming about it for like, a decade. I’d like to serve at least one customer before I die.”

“Isn’t that a work-related regret as well?”

“It’s my dream too, but I suppose you’re right,” you grinned and he joined despite himself, waiting for your answer. “I’d like to explore a bit. Live a little.”

Seonghwa could resonate with that. “I think I’d like to live a little too.”

You nodded, finishing the food. “Thank you so much for this- you really didn’t have to.”

“Consider it my apology for involving you,” he said. “Can I have your contact number? I might have to call you for a witness statement, if you’re alright with that.”

“Sure,” you took out his card and texted him on the number. “I don’t think I’ll have much to say though.”

“That’s okay, it’s just for paperwork,” he assured you and you got up, telling him you’d take a cab back home. You watched him leave first and then you slumped down on the chair as you wondered if those familiar sharp eyes were the ones you’ve been dreaming about for almost half your life.

What would that mean for you?

—------------------------

Flowers often wilted under your touch, and though your mother called it ‘wrong’, it somehow felt right.

That didn’t mean you felt excited about it. You were the goddess of spring. You were supposed to give life to flowers, not kill them.

You sat by the stream, digging your fingers under the soil. You laughed to yourself as you scanned the dead flowers around you, and you wondered what Lord Hades would think about this, because it seemed like the flowers were-

“Straight from the Underworld,” a voice sounded and you froze for a moment before you turned towards the dark figure of Hades announcing his arrival. You tried to look at his face- you could almost see it now…

“Interesting that they call you Persephone,” the King of the Underworld slid closer and then was down on one knee before you. “Why did you call me here?”

“I- I didn’t call you,” you managed to say, wanting to scoot away from him but you were captivated. “How?”

He smiled, glancing at your fingers still buried under the soil. Gently, he held your wrists and took them out, dusting your hands carefully. You tried taking your hands away. “I could hurt you.”

“No, you won’t,” he said nonchalantly before looking at you. “Have you ever hurt someone?”

“I think I have,” you found yourself saying. 

“And why would a sweet thing like you hurt someone?” He took one of the wilted flowers and tucked it behind your ear. “They probably deserved it, didn’t they?”

You were about to say something but he got up. “Go back before Demeter comes to find you. I’m not sure she’ll like this.”

“But…” you sighed, an indescribable ache in your heart. “I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless.”

“You’re not alone,” he simply said. “And if you ever feel lost, you can call for me.”

—-------------------

This wasn’t the first time you had that dream, however, this was the first time the voice sounded so familiar. 

As you got ready, pairing accessories with your pastel blue outfit, you wondered if you were closer to discovering the identity of the person you were dreaming about for so long.

Yes, it was probably a fictional story your mind had created for the sole purpose of your entertainment, where you were playing Persephone and your mother was playing Demeter. When you first started having these dreams a few years ago, though not as frequently as nowadays, you let the story play in your head until one day something occurred to you which prompted you to google the story of Persephone and Hades-

And left you gaping in surprise because it really did seem like you were legitimately seeing it from Persephone’s eyes.

You never mentioned it to anyone. You weren’t so sure you needed to- after all, there were various interpretations of the stories of the Greek gods. However, the character of Hades intrigued you a lot, and it was a shame you could never remember just who he was. Also, it didn’t help that your mother had been calling you Kore forever- she had been obsessed with Greek mythologies when you were little and read those to you as your bedtime stories. 

Perhaps these dreams were a result of hearing those dreams as a child, a trauma-

“If you’re done staring at yourself, the breakfast’s getting cold,” Siyeon popped her head in your room, snickering. “It’s only Wooyoung. Who are you getting pretty for?”

You glared at her. “Rich coming from you when we all know how big a crush you harbour-”

“Shut up and be at the table in a minute if you want me to drop you off.”

“Alright, madame,” you made a face and sighed, your mind wandering off to the familiar voice of Hades-

Your phone vibrated and you read the text from Prosecutor Park Seonghwa asking you if you were available to meet at the police station in an hour. You texted that you were and told Wooyoung that you were going to be a bit late before joining Siyeon at the table.

“Wooyoung told me you might have found a place for your cafe?” Siyeon asked and you nodded.

“We’re reviewing our options today and I hope we can finalise something,” you took a sip of coffee, sighing as you slumped back. “It’s about time we actually started running the business instead of just dreaming about it.”

“Right,” Siyeon nodded. “Your mother called me last night. Apparently you weren’t picking up?”

“Oh, I forgot to call her back,” you groaned. “What did she say?”

“Just the usual,” she grinned. “Tell y/n to stay safe, pick up her calls, stop roaming around so late at night- I don’t know how she’s gonna digest the idea of you and Wooyoung working together with actual people around you until midnight.”

“Yeah, I told her to be mentally prepared. I don’t know when she’ll understand I’m not a kid…” you sighed deeply. “Though after last night, I can kind of understand why she’s like this…”

“What happened last night?” Siyeon frowned.

You told her your story on the way to the police station where she was to drop you off. She was surprised but also momentarily got possessed by your mother as she scolded you for roaming around strange places all alone so late at night. When you arrived, the prosecutor was already waiting for you and Siyeon did a double take.

“That’s the Prosecutor that got you in trouble?”

You raised a brow. “You know him?”

Siyeon scoffed, getting out of the car and haughtily walking towards the prosecutor who looked at her and then at you, and then groaned.

“I can’t believe you almost killed my friend, Park Seonghwa.”

You gaped between the two, and he sighed deeply. “That’s an exaggeration, but good to see you too.”

“This is the Prosecutor who made my life at work hell a year ago,” she pointed and you nodded in realisation, stifling your smile- you had only heard bad things about him. 

“But we became friends over a few drinks, didn’t we, Siyeon? Or are you going to forget how I helped you out and saved your sorry ass?”

“I’m sure he was just doing his job,” you patted Siyeon’s arm. “You should go now- stop giving him that look.”

Siyeon glared at Seonghwa before saying bye and you gave the man a sorry look. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, Prosecutor Park.” 

“Just call me Seonghwa. I’m sorry I had to call you. I would have dealt with it, but…” he sighed. “The police here don’t really like me.”

You looked at him in confusion and he led you inside. The officer in charge of the case made you both wait 10 minutes just because he was going through his phone (judging by the smile on his face, you were pretty sure he was talking to his partner), and though you both had stayed silent while you waited, you decided to break the ice. 

“Looks like you have some beef with him,” you commented.

“I don’t have beef with him,” Seonghwa laughed, caught off-guard by your comment and it made you stifle a grin. “We’ve just not had the chance to meet on good terms.”

“Same difference,” you muttered. 

Before he could retort, the officer finally looked up from his phone and gave you two a tired look, fixing his gaze on Seonghwa. “Prosecutor Park… ever so busy, eh? Still going after the elites just because they seem to be having fun? Still called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper?”

You blinked at the nickname and then it dawned on you why his voice sounded so familiar-

It was the same voice you had been hearing in your dreams.

“Officer Lee… I see you haven’t changed. I thought you got promoted after you rattled on about me to the superiors, but… too bad.”

The officer gruntled at that and you pursed your lips, looking back and forth between the two. Before they could make another jab, you cleared your throat and raised your hand awkwardly. “I’m here.”

Officer Lee passed you a page. “Fill this up and then answer my questions.”

You filled the page with your private information and then the officer asked you to narrate the events. By the end of it, he was tsk-ing at Seonghwa. “Now you’re troubling innocent civilians too. Do you have to go so far? Don’t you remember the last time you got a civilian involved-”

“You don’t have to worry about her inconvenience,” Seonghwa countered. “She’s a… friend.”

You raised a brow at that but decided to play along- it looked like the officer really wanted to get to him and you wondered just what had happened between the two. 

“Well, you’re free to go then,” he said after he asked you to narrate the event and you got up, bowing and waiting for Seonghwa who was still glaring at the man and then he exhaled deeply, getting up and going ahead without waiting for you. You followed him outside, watching him stop and run a hand through his hair, almost in frustration.

“You okay?” You asked cautiously. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” he nodded after a moment, scanning you- you suddenly felt like a child out of place in your pastel outfit. “Do you need me to drop you off?”

“No, it’s okay, I’m meeting a friend at the intersection,” you told him. “I’ll walk.”

“I’m passing by, so get in,” he motioned to the car and went ahead before you could refuse his offer, making you shrug and follow.

“Sorry for today,” Seonghwa said after a minute as he drove. “I won’t bother you again.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” you told him.

“I’m sorry for that day too,” he continued. “I could have gotten you killed, like Siyeon said.”

“It’s okay, it was just a big coincidence,” you shrugged and he glanced at you. “I’m just glad we’re both unhurt.”

Seonghwa raised a brow at your candidness. “Have you always lived in Sector 1?”

“I lived near the Sector 2 border- the town with the hills,” you told him. “I commuted for college and moved here not too long ago.”

“Is that where you met Siyeon too?”

“No, we’re school friends,” you smiled. “She also lived there back then.”

“Ah, I see.” A ghost of a smile lingered at Seonghwa’s face and you watched him, intrigued. “I don’t think Siyeon ever mentioned you but… we weren’t best friends either.”

“Siyeon never mentioned you either, I think- not directly. She did mention some jerk making it hard at work, but,” you laughed and he joined. “That’s about it.”

You spotted the intersection and told him to drop you off there. He offered to wait with you until your friend arrived, but you insisted that it was fine. Seonghwa did look at you a moment too long before he sighed. “I guess this is goodbye then. We probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

You scanned him, his sharp eyes just as familiar as his voice. You wondered if the ache in your heart meant anything. “Let’s hope if we do meet each other again, it’s when we’re not running for our lives or going to a police station.”

Seonghwa smiled at that and you watched his face transform into pure warmth, his eyes sparkling. “Sounds good.”

You watched him leave, wondering just what his deal was. He seemed to be dealing with a lot and you made a mental note to ask Siyeon just what exactly the officer meant by him being the Underworld’s Grim Reaper. At the sound of a horn, you turned to Wooyoung sticking out his neck and waving at you and you immediately got in the front seat.

“Did I keep you for long?” He patted your arm as a greeting before he drove off.

“Not at all,” you told him. “I hope you’re in full spirits because we’ve had enough of scouring potential buildings for our cafe. We need to decide today, Wooyoung. Don’t be a sloth.”

“Okay, okay,” he nodded his head furiously, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I have a feeling that today is a lucky day.”

Today was indeed lucky. By the late evening, you went through your top 5 picks and decided on a spot to open your cafe- it wasn’t in the hotspot of the city but quite near it, and you were very satisfied by its architectural design which allowed you to make the most of the ‘floral’ part of the cafe. Wooyoung had no problem with it either, so you signed the deal and shook hands with him.

“I can’t believe we managed to do this today- I thought we were bluffing!”

“When I put my mind to something, I do it, y/n,” he simply stated. “Now let’s go for dinner- I’ll call the boys and you can call Siyeon- I hope some of them can make it. I need to introduce you to my other friends too.”

“Yeah, you know how hard it was for me to come back here when college was over,” you sighed. “And your ‘other friends’ are always too busy.”

“We should plan a proper party, though, what do you say?” Wooyoung asked. “We’ll treat them and then force them to help us.”

“That… sounds pretty good actually,” you grinned at him and he grinned back, bumping his fist with you as you both plotted the demise of your friends and how to exploit their services. 

With that, you and Wooyoung arranged a welcome party at a restaurant near your cafe on the weekend so you could have dinner first and visit the venue later. You invited Siyeon, which you started regretting when she decided she was in charge of dressing you up for the night, and you ended up in all black, with your hair and makeup more edgier than usual- she insisted you needed to look like you had your shit together and could tolerate doing business with Wooyoung which was no small feat. She still couldn’t believe how Wooyoung, who was the loudest and most blunt and outgoing person she knew, could be friends with you who was timid and always fidgeting with her words.

“But you can shut Wooyoung up, so I guess that counts for something.”

“I can shut you up too,” you countered. Siyeon snickered at that but didn’t deny it- you may have grown up sheltered and were just learning about real life and its responsibilities now, but Siyeon knew there was an undeniable fire within you. 

“But I don’t blab as much as him,” Siyeon pouted.

“Gosh, just tell Wooyoung that you like him, you’re so corny,” you threw your makeup sponge at her as she turned to hide her face after making that comment.

“I don’t like him,” she looked baffled. “He’s too much.”

However, as you entered the restaurant, you watched how Siyeon’s eyes darted immediately to Wooyoung and you rolled your eyes, greeting the rest of his friends- Yunho, Mingi and someone you hadn’t seen before. Yunho and Mingi you knew from college and met with them often.

“This is the famous Kim Hongjoong who is very hard to reach,” Wooyoung pointed and Hongjoong laughed in embarrassment. “You two better get along. We’re still missing one, but he’ll be here soon- he said we could start dinner without him.”

“Oh, we could wait?” You asked but Wooyoung told you it was okay, and you sat across Hongjoong, learning that he was a famous composer and Wooyoung told you that he was producing a soundtrack for your cafe as a gift too, which you really appreciated.

“Once I see what the vibe is, I’ll come up with something,” Hongjoong promised.

“No way, aren’t you asking too much from him, Wooyoung?” You looked around in disbelief and everyone laughed.

“It’s the least I can do-”

“It’s the least he can do,” Wooyoung announced and you laughed harder, Hongjoong promising to mess up the track if Wooyoung annoyed him too much and you enjoyed the bickering as you finished dinner and you all decided to walk to the cafe. You fell behind the group, watching them laugh over something and you smiled to yourself, glad you had such good people in your life-

You turned to your right and spotted none other than Seonghwa, dressed in a suit, probably coming straight from work, holding a big wrapped box. You met eyes with him and he stopped in his tracks when he saw you with the rest of his friends.

While you both stood gaping at each other, you suddenly had a flashback of the recent dream you had-

“I wish you weren’t so afraid, Persephone,” Hades crawled behind you, letting his fingers run down your sleeves and catch your trembling fingers- somehow, his touch comforted you more than anything else in this world.

“I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” your voice wasn’t even and you looked down, watching his fingers interlock with yours as he rested his face next to your head. “I’m supposed to be the goddess of spring but all I seem to do these days is destroy.”

“And who said you were only the goddess of spring?” Hades' voice held a hint of playfulness. “You can be more than one thing.”

“Could I?” You smiled, embarrassed, moving away from him. Perhaps, he was trying to make you feel better. “I’m not even good at one thing.”

“You think we’re good at what we do?” Hades went to sit by the tree in front of you. “I can barely handle the Underworld these days.”

You sat near him, gazing at him out of curiosity. “What is the Underworld like?”

“Would you like to see?” Hades leaned in and for a moment, just for the shortest moment, your heart was gripped by the fear of your mother finding out who you’ve been hanging out with lately. 

“I don’t think I should leave the mortal realm,” you pouted. “Mother would instantly know I’m gone.”

“You don’t have to leave to see it,” Hades was smirking. “I can show you- close your eyes.”

You did and you felt his fingers on your forehead- and then you were suddenly shivering with cold, couldn’t see anything except darkness- until you realised you could actually see and it was just incredibly dark.

“This is the Underworld,” Hades said. “Where I live. A city down there. We have rivers too, but I’m not sure you’d like them.”

“How can I see this?”

“This is just my memory,” Hades said, drawing his fingers away and you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times.

“It’s so cold there,” you tilted your head, grabbing his hand without a second thought. “You’re always cold.”

Hades frowned- could you actually feel the place from his memory alone? “I’ve clearly underestimated your powers, it seems.”

“I know just what that place needs,” you smiled, ignoring his remark- you tended to ignore anyone who talked about your powers. You watched Hades’ brow rise in confusion. 

“It needs a touch of spring.”

Wooyoung all but attacked Seonghwa with a hug that had him grimacing, going on about how he made it just on time but it was a pity that he had to miss dinner. When Wooyoung was about to introduce you two, you looked at Siyeon who muttered, “What a big fucking coincidence.”

You giggled at that, and Wooyoung looked between you and Siyeon. “Why does it look like you already know him?”

“That’s because she does, you idiot,” Siyeon slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “You should have told me he was coming. You know I have beef with him.”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t,” Wooyoung looked proud and Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “I’m aware Siyeon and Seonghwa know each other from work, but how do you know him?”

“Uh… it’s a long story,” you shrugged, looking at Seonghwa for help.

“She was a witness in a case I’m working,” was Seonghwa’s short explanation and you nodded eagerly, hoping he wouldn’t ask more. Wooyoung didn’t, just dragged Seonghwa to the front and he greeted the rest.

“They’re old friends, huh?” You let out a short laugh, looking at Siyeon who looked both annoyed and curious. “Sure is a small world we live in.”

You reached the cafe and Wooyoung called you to the front, putting an arm around you. “This is us.”

“You sound like a married couple who just bought a house,” Mingi laughed.

“Might as well be,” Wooyoung scoffed. “Come in, let’s show you around.”

Wooyoung did most of the talking while you added in the details, showing them the main sitting area and a few private corners for people who would want to work in peace while having a break. The kitchen was huge and well-equipped as well, and upstairs, there was a terrace that you would be utilising for the customers as well, with two separate rooms that would be your offices. 

“We really won in the luck department with this one,” you finished showing them around, taking a seat with the rest on the terrace where Wooyoung opened the bottle of wine Seonghwa had brought as a gift. “I never thought I’d have a room here as well. I could practically live here.”

“That wouldn’t be very safe,” Seonghwa said.

“I know, but on the days when I’m too tired to go home, I could take a little nap here,” you shrugged. 

“Now that we’re all present and I’m pouring you all wine to commence the beginning,” Wooyoung finally began the speech you were expecting and you stifled your laugh. “I better see each one of your ass working with us.”

Hongjoong stopped in the middle of drinking. “Working how exactly?”

“Help us move!” Wooyoung slumped down. “Help us bring this place to life! With only the two of us, it’s going to take forever, especially with y/n’s clumsy ass-”

“I’m not the one who fell on her face because I was too busy looking upwards when I walked,” you muttered, referring to moments ago when Wooyoung tripped on empty boxes while he was walking, making everyone laugh out loud.

“Not the point!” Wooyoung glared at you and you glared back. “Anyways, all of you better be present here.”

“You’re only going to order us around and do absolutely nothing!” Mingi pointed his finger at him. “I still remember when I thought it was a good idea to move in with you.”

“I could help, but I expect something in return,” Yunho said and Siyeon clapped at that.

“My point exactly.”

“You owe me one in case you forgot, Yunho,” Wooyoung pointed his finger at him and Yunho grinned. “As for Siyeon… she could get a special discount.”

That fueled an argument on why he didn’t offer the ‘special’ discount to anyone else and Siyeon announced she didn’t need anything from Wooyoung, which made you elbow her. 

“We’re all busy and have a life, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa finally said and the boys clapped enthusiastically at that. “But… I’ll come around if I have some free time. And the rest of you should as well- otherwise don’t expect them to treat you any differently from the rest of their customers.”

You both were satisfied to hear that while the rest groaned, making promises to come and help, teasing each other. You opened a bag of chips and offered some to Seonghwa who was sitting near you.

“Funny seeing you here tonight,” he said as he took a few. “I didn’t recognise you for a moment. You look different.”

“That’s all Siyeon,” you touched your hair consciously, tucking behind your ears. “I thought you were just passing by. Seems like we have quite a few people in common.”

“Seems so,” he smiled. “Wooyoung always talks about you, I just never made the connection.”

“Really?” you laughed, looking at him who was still accusing his friends of being lazy. “He does talk a lot in general. He may have mentioned having a busy old friend- two of them. I met Hongjoong for the first time today.”

“He’s my oldest friend,” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and you watched his gaze turn soft. “He’s also the busiest, so don’t expect to see him helping around more than once. He uses any free time for a nap.”

“I see,” you turned towards Seonghwa, resting your face on your hand, elbow propped on your leg. “And will I be seeing you more than once?”

Seonghwa’s breath caught at the way you looked, with hair shining brightly under the moonlight, eyes tired but full of life. He mirrored your position, a faint smirk on his face. “Maybe you will.”

That night, Seonghwa woke up feeling like a bucket of cold water had been splashed over him though sweat laced his forehead. He checked the time- it was 03.47 am. He went to the kitchen to drink some water and recalled the dream he had seen-

It was you. He had dreamt about you, but… it wasn’t exactly the person he knew. And he had called you Persephone. You had been sitting by a lake, eyes wide and helpless, and he had touched your face and said-

“If I could… I would make you the Queen of the Underworld.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply- was he thinking too much about you? He had been busy with his work, and recently, he’d seen a lot of you, which was perhaps why he was having recurring dreams about you where he called you Persephone, which made him Hades-

King of the Underworld.

Or maybe he took his nickname way too seriously. Seonghwa shook his head- the dreams were causing him to be restless in his sleep. Maybe he just needed to relax a bit but… his recent case had him spiralling into darker territories, and he wondered if he could even get to sleep anymore.

—--------------------------

The last few days were the busiest. You spent most of your time in the cafe and the boys occasionally dropped by to help you out, though you noticed having company meant you also slacked off as you got distracted elsewhere, but things were looking good so far. You and Wooyoung were done setting up your office rooms so you could focus on the rest.

Today, you were back to the last bit of scraping. You arrived late, having slept in since it was Sunday and you found Wooyoung taking a nap on the couch in his office. You didn’t wake him up, deciding to put on some light instrumental music while you scraped and got lost in your thoughts.

These days, your thoughts mostly drifted to the recurring dreams you were having- they were almost like flashbacks of a memory, of a… past life. But you didn’t believe in past lives.

Maybe you should, you wondered to yourself as you shifted to one leg, lazily scraping. But even if you did believe in past lives, did you believe in Hades and Persephone? Even if you did, why would they look exactly like you, Seonghwa and the other people in your life? Why would they be speaking your language?

Maybe they speak your language for you, you found yourself thinking. You recalled having a dream in Japanese a while ago when you barely knew two phrases. Dreams were supposed to be weird, you told yourself. But were they supposed to be playing out like a story of someone’s life?

Your train of thought was broken when you heard someone clear their throat behind you and you realised you hadn’t been scraping at all for a while now. You put on a smile in an attempt to seem normal before turning to greet-

Seonghwa. He had a way of appearing exactly when you were thinking of him.

“Hi,” he waved awkwardly, dressed in something other than black for once. The denim quite suited him.

“H-hi, I wasn’t expecting you- or anyone, for that matter,” you managed to say, recovering from the initial shock. “Uh, please have a seat?”

Seonghwa looked around in amusement at the absence of any seats. “Where’s Wooyoung?”

“He’s taking a nap,” you told him, fumbling to empty the nearest stool. “I just came and decided to let him sleep.”

“Good idea, it would be way too loud with him,” he laughed, asking you to stop. “I’m not here to relax. I’m here to help you out, so tell me what to do.”

“Really?” You smiled, suddenly conscious of the dirty apron you were wearing- it had everything from dust to paint on there. “Well… you could scrape this part and I could start on the next?”

“Sounds good,” he scanned you. “Do I get an apron too?”

“Oh, yes,” you said, laughing. “We have a spare for this purpose.” 

You went to the box near you, digging out the apron and handing it to him. He wore it and got to work immediately and you watched him for a moment before resuming your own. “You didn’t actually need to help out- I’ve heard how busy you are with your recent case, and from what I’ve seen… it’s hectic.”

“Come on, even Hongjoong stopped by,” he laughed a bit, looking at you. “Or is it that you didn’t want to see me?”

“Now why would you think that,” you pouted, surprised at how playful he sounded despite the serious expression on his face. “I just thought you’d be tired- your job is demanding.”

“It wasn’t always like this,” Seonghwa glanced at you as he said, “I got myself into this mess, and now I can’t get out until I win or admit defeat.”

You put a hand on your hip as you scraped. “Admitting defeat sounds dangerous.”

“It is,” he sighed. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”

You turned to him but then paused, resuming your work- it seemed to be easier to talk when you were both busy and not looking at each other. “Just what have you involved yourself in, Seonghwa? I don’t think we’ve addressed the fact that you’re in constant danger.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply and it looked like he was actually considering telling you. “I can’t really talk about it- the less you know, the safer you are.”

“Well, maybe I don’t love being so safe,” you said, surprised at how you voiced that so boldly, making even Seonghwa stop and turn to look at you. You matched his gaze.

“Sometimes I wonder who you are,” he said, and you felt like he meant more by it. “Why were you so calm that day? And why are you willing to involve yourself in something dangerous?”

You shrugged, going back to scraping, ignoring the loud thump of your heart between your ears. You could still feel his gaze on your back. Thankfully, Wooyoung interrupted and you got a call right at that moment, going into another room to talk to your mother who told you she would be paying a visit-

Right now.

You got out of the room, waving your hand wildly at Wooyoung who moved closer to hear your conversation while Seonghwa watched awkwardly.

“But mom… I’m literally scraping- it’s an ugly sight. You should just go to my apartment and I’ll arrive right after you-”

“I’m near the cafe, Kore,” she said and Wooyoung sagged down to the ground. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you hung up and kicked Wooyoung’s thigh lightly. “Get up. We’ve got to make this look presentable.”

“Your mother’s coming, what’s the big deal?” Seonghwa finally dared to ask and then regretted it when you two glared at him.

“She’s a monster, for starters-”

“She’s my mother, asshole,” you slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “And what’s your problem? She loves you!”

“She only pretends to!” Wooyoung shouted. “She threatened to hang me upside down on the ceiling if I tried anything funny with you!”

“Let’s just get to work,” you clapped, sliding all the stuff lying in the middle of the room to the corners. Just two minutes later, you heard the sound of the door opening.

“Seonghwa’s still here,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Should I say he is my friend?”

“He is your friend, Wooyoung, please wake up,” you almost cried and Seonghwa snorted. “If you’re going to say something stupid, you better just shut up- hi, mom!” You went to hug her, Wooyoung following with a smile.

“You look well,” she commented. “But there are dark circles under your eyes.”

“Those are proof that I’ve been working hard,” you smiled and she laughed at that, handing you the bouquet of fresh flowers that she brought from home- your favourites. You sniffed them deeply, sighing happily before setting them on the table.

“And this is?” 

“My old friend, Park Seonghwa,” Wooyoung introduced and Seonghwa bowed. “He came to help us out.”

Your mother gave you a look before she sat down. “I won’t be here for long- I came to visit a friend and thought I’d drop by and see what’s up. Would you excuse us, boys? It’s good to see you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung saluted, dragging Seonghwa to another room- or at least, pretending to. You just knew he would be loitering right outside the room, and chances were that Seonghwa would be too. You turned your attention to your mother. “You could have told me earlier. I would have arranged for dinner or something-”

“There’s no need,” she shook her head, looking around. “The cafe looks nice. Are you sure you need to stay and work with Wooyoung? You’ll only be dealing with flowers- you could do that from home-”

“Wooyoung is only going to be cooking, I’ll be handling everything else,” you reminded her. “We cannot work without each other.”

“It’s pretty late though- when do you even go back?” She checked her watch. “Here, all alone-”

“I’m going to be alone most days,” you straightened up- somehow, you found it easier to challenge your mother when you met her after some time apart. “Besides, there’s always company.”

She frowned at that. “Do you know that boy?”

“Wooyoung introduced us not long ago. He’s one of his old friends, like Yunho and Mingi.”

“I don’t like this, Kore,” she sighed and you groaned.

“You never like anything I do,” you said. “I’m not little anymore. I’m making my own decisions. Please give me space to breathe.”

“Do I suffocate you?” She raised a brow.

“Honestly? Sometimes, yes. I love you but you do that.”

Your mother didn’t look too hurt to hear that, which didn’t give you much satisfaction either. She got up, taking her purse. “I’ll be back when you finally open the cafe.”

“Sure, you have to make it to the opening. And please arrange for the flowers- I’ll send you a list soon, okay?”

She patted your cheek and left, and you finally felt yourself relax. You heard the sound of footsteps. “Damn. That was intense.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, looking at Seonghwa who told you that you looked pale and before you could protest, he poured you water and slid the glass. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asked and you nodded, glancing at Wooyoung who was peeking out of the window to make sure your mother was actually gone. “Why did she call you Kore?”

“It’s a nickname- she started calling me that when I was little. It’s something to do with Greek mythology-”

“I’ve heard,” Seonghwa nodded, accidentally brushing your hand as he took the glass from you and said, “Persephone.”

A stabbing pain in your head made you wince. “Sorry, what?”

“That’s what Demeter called her daughter, right?” he said and you nodded absently.

“Have you always known that?” 

“What?”

“That Demeter called Persephone Kore?” You asked, your voice small.

“Does it matter?” He asked and you thought that was a weird answer. Before you could probe, he went to Wooyoung, leaving you wondering why he didn’t simply answer that.

—--------------------

A few days later, Seonghwa found himself standing outside your cafe in the middle of the night.

There were a number of things that brought him here. The illegal drugs case he was investigating had taken a dangerous turn since the past few months, which meant he was being assaulted and blackmailed. His place had been ransacked, evidence stolen, and he found himself growing anxious with every passing day. But then, it involved the top class of Sector 1 notoriously known as the Underworld, and if he exposed the individuals involved, he was positive the citizens of Wonderland would lose trust in their government and officials.

He had told no one yet, and he wasn’t planning to, but now he was wondering if he could go on like this. He was being backed up by Mr. Ahn, the director of a leading pharmaceutical company, but he wasn’t sure he could trust him with the details- at least not fully. But he was powerful, and he had connections, which was how he had gotten so far and earned his nickname- Underworld’s Grim Reaper. 

He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the terrace until you appeared and noticed him, waving at him and motioning him to come inside. He sighed deeply- there was another reason he was here. 

He now knew why you seemed so familiar, why your voice shook him to the core the first time he heard you.

He had seen you in his dreams before he ever saw you.

He was positive about that- it sounded insane even to himself, but he was so sure, and it made absolutely no sense. But then he saw your mother the other day- he recognised her instantly from his dreams since she had a memorable face. And then, to top it off, she called you Kore. 

There was no way, he had thought at that time, but then… he wondered if somehow, you knew as well.

But he couldn’t ask you that, he thought as he went upstairs after looking around for Wooyoung. He couldn’t ask you like this. Not when it made no sense to him. Not when he wasn’t ready for the answer.

“Is Wooyoung not here?” 

“He went home a while ago,” you said, sipping from your coffee cup. “What brings you here at this hour- not for helping around, right?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, taking a seat. “It’s a long story.”

You smiled, “I have some extra brewed coffee anyway. I think it was meant for you.”

When he had finally gotten a bit of coffee in his system, Seonghwa sighed for what had to be the tenth time. You were fidgeting with nervousness and anticipation now- it looked like he was going to tell you something big. “Come on- you look like you’re about to announce your divorce or something.”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, slumping back. “There’s a lot weighing on my mind, and I can’t really tell anyone.”

“I’m a good listener, and an even good secret keeper,” you told him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he laughed. “It’s just… it might be dangerous to share it with someone.”

“Is it about your case?” You asked and he gave you a look.

“You’re quick. Yes, it’s about my case- the same one that got me here with you right now.”

“Well, then I have a question for you,” you leaned forward, loving the challenge he was giving you. “Do you believe in coincidences?”

“I didn’t,” he thought about it, wondering if every meeting with you was just a plain big series of coincidences. “But now I’m wondering if I was wrong.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe everything happens for a reason. We encountered each other that day, perhaps, because you were meant to sit here right now-”

“Perhaps because we were meant to be-” Seonghwa glanced at you and you raised a brow. “Meant to meet,” he corrected. “That’s what you mean, right?”

“It’s up to you,” you relaxed back. “I don’t want to force you.”

Seonghwa wondered if he could tell you that he found you easy to talk to- in the past few days, he had visited a good few times. He got to learn little things about you and found himself drawn to you. “I’m only hesitating because it’s dangerous to know more than you should. Otherwise, I really like you. I really like talking to you.”

You nodded. “You know that I’ve lived a sheltered life with an overbearing mother, but Seonghwa… I’ve seen my fair share of horrors. I’m not easily rattled, not anymore.”

Seonghwa let that sink in- he always wondered where you got that edge from. He wasn’t sure he could ask. “The case I’m investigating is actually a case involving the top class of Sector 1- politicians, high ranking officials, influencers, you name it. They’re illegally trading drugs among themselves. They buy anyone with power and money.”

“Go on,” you urged.

Seonghwa shifted in his seat. “I’m being backed by Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals. He’s providing me with manpower and connections, but… I’m afraid I’ll have to investigate him at one point too. I’m not sure who’s constantly threatening me- the people I’m investigating or the one who hired me, telling me to stay in my place.”

You whistled. “A double-edged sword?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh. “So I’m wondering how I can keep track of my progress, where I can store evidence and important documents. My apartment’s been ransacked twice now. They also stole from me in broad daylight.”

“Hmm… No one would suspect you coming to the cafe to drink some coffee and meet your old friend, right?” You asked and Seonghwa shrugged. “You could use my office.”

“I… When I said that, I didn’t mean that you should give me a space-”

“No, think about it,” you ignored his protests. “Me and Wooyoung are already practically living here. I can give you the spare key to my office- you can come and go as you please and store whatever you need to. I won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, I guess that could work.”

“And I know it’s too late to say this, but you should have backed out of this case when you first had the thought,” you said and he laughed in defeat. “It’s dangerous to back out now, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he confirmed. “But I don’t want to back out now either.”

You smirked at that. “Too late. Anyways, I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.”

“I know I can,” he found himself saying.

“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s something about your eyes.”

“It’s something about your eyes,” Hades tucked your hair behind. “I feel like I could trust you with my life.”

“But what if someone finds out because of me?” You looked down at your fingers, green with all the flower plucking Demeter had made you do as a punishment for being seen in public with Hades.

“Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine,” Hades smiled sadly. “Because I got you involved.”

“What if someone finds out because of me?” You found yourself saying, feeling intense deja vu and you tried to gulp the feelings down.

However, Seonghwa had sucked his breath sharply as he heard that too. He watched you for a few moments before he said, “Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine. Because I’m the one who got you involved.”

You accidentally dropped the pencil you had been fiddling with, leaning down to pick it up and gathering yourself in that moment. You cleared your throat. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Yeah…” Seonghwa shook his head, breaking the trance he was in. “I should go now- I’ll come by tomorrow with some stuff. Should I drop you off too?”

“There’s no need, I’ll get a taxi-”

“At this hour? I think not,” he poked your arm, urging you to move and you pouted as you picked your stuff. You told him the location- it was 10 minutes from the cafe. The ride was mostly silent as you both sorted your thoughts out. When you reached your apartment, you unbuckled the belt, halting when Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. We just met recently, but… I’m glad I can trust you.”

You smiled. “Well then, we can work on that until you’re able to call me a friend.”

“You are,” Seonghwa laughed. “You know what I mean. Thank you, y/n. For everything.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded. “Just… stay safe, Seonghwa. It sounds dangerous and I really don’t like that you’re being chased around. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

It was a simple enough thing to say but it pulled at his heartstrings in the most unexpected way and he found himself tucking your hair behind your ear- he couldn’t help it- he had done that so many times in his dreams. However, he hadn’t expected you to basically stop breathing, and he realised his breath caught at the way you were looking at him too.

How were you so familiar yet so distant?

He patted your shoulder, nodding awkwardly. “I’ll try. Being safe, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you finally breathed. “Goodnight… Seonghwa.”

With that, you went upstairs to your apartment, glad Siyeon was sleeping because all you wanted to do was sink down in your bed and think of the way he had just tucked your hair-

Like he had done so a million times before.

Perhaps he had.

—--------------------

Seonghwa found himself coming to the cafe every other day, but he felt a bit guilty that he had to text you and ask the whereabouts of Wooyoung. He told himself that he was protecting his friend and that made him feel guilty because he might be putting you in danger, but you always assured him that it was okay.

It was an easy routine now- Wooyoung usually went home around 10 at night, which was when Seonghwa would drop by and sit in your office and do his work in silence. On the days when you were present, you would quietly come in and place some coffee and snacks on the desk. He didn’t hide anything from you but you didn’t want to intrude so you’d just leave and do something productive, finding it easier to get busy.

Tonight was one of those nights too. You had asked Wooyoung to take care of the other things while you did the painting, which was why he was out and about during the day, buying whatever you needed- you’d join him when it concerned you but since he was taking care of the kitchen, he was busier. You just needed to get the painting done so you could finally decorate and get the flower business started.

You began to think of the flowers back at home, of home, of your mother, of the house that almost felt like a prison and in several ways was, of the feelings of suffocation that still lingered-

You heard someone clear their throat and you looked up to see Seonghwa lingering in the doorway, passing you a tight-lipped smile and you looked down- you had been picking at your fingers- had he seen that? You got up and brushed your clothes.

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you had an extra marker,” Seonghwa said after a moment. “I couldn’t find it where you usually keep your stationery.”

“Ah, we must have run out- there might be one in the kitchen though, let me look for it.”

“It’s okay, I’ll look for it-”

“You’ll never be able to navigate through Wooyoung’s mess there,” you laughed and he grinned, finally relaxing. “I’ll be back.”

You went to the kitchen and after a few minutes, you were able to find a marker in one of the drawers. You went to your office and knocked at the already open door and Seonghwa urged you to come in. You noticed how he had pasted a few pictures and notes on your board, making a mind-map.

“Wow, that’s a lot,” you commented. “I hope it’s not so hard… what’s going on here?”

Seonghwa chuckled, pointing at the picture of a middle-aged man. “That’s Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1. That’s where the investigation began- apparently, Mr. Ahn got suspicious when Dr. Kwon stopped his business with KQ Pharmaceuticals, and Mr. Ahn wondered if he’s not buying from the best pharmaceutical company in Wonderland, who’s sponsoring him?”

“Ah, business rivalry at first, huh?” You said and he nodded. “So he started doing some digging?”

“Yeah, and he noticed that there was one specific drug that’s used for anaesthetic purposes that he wasn’t buying from any of the well-known companies. He has his ears everywhere, and he was quick to make a connection- that drug that the top class of Wonderland smokes, they call it ‘Mist’- it’s the same they’re using as anaesthesia in the hospital.”

“Oh,” you wowed, taking a moment to let that sink in. “That’s… intense.”

Seonghwa stifled his smile. “Now he just wants me to take down as many people involved as possible.”

“Why you?” You were curious.

“I’m called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper for a reason,” he smirked. “I won a big case a year ago too- probably caught Mr. Ahn’s attention.”

“It’s suspicious, though,” you went through his notes, looking at the pictures and frowning at a familiar face. “That he isn’t putting himself in the spotlight. Also, how is he involved?”

“You know him?” Seonghwa glanced at the picture you were holding. “That’s Mr. Jang, right?”

“From the Wonderland Art Museum, yes,” you confirmed. “He’s an acquaintance of my mother- we deliver flowers to him regularly. Is he involved in…”

“It seems so, but it’s only a suspicion right now,” Seonghwa sighed. “There’s no evidence of transactions- after all, the drug must cost something. I’m wondering if it’s not in the form of cash- which is why I’ll have to look into Mr. Jang’s paintings and who the real owners of those paintings are.”

You were still going through the pictures as you listened when you found a picture of a flower. “And what has this rare flower got to do with it?”

Seonghwa looked surprised. “You recognise this flower?”

“Of course I do. I’m a florist, Seonghwa,” you rolled your eyes.

“What do you know about this flower?”

“It’s one of the rarest flowers. It’s called the Middlemist Blue- wait,” you looked at the flower and then back at him. “This is the source of the drug?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa took the picture from you. “Where have you seen it?”

In my mother’s greenhouse.

“It’s very rare,” you attempted to sound normal but you were sure Seonghwa caught on. You sighed, taking a seat. “My mother found one a few years ago and since then, she’s been taking care of it and trying to reproduce it.”

“And was she successful?” Seonghwa dared to ask.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shook your head, looking at him- for once, you felt scared. “Do you think she might be involved?”

“I can’t say- she isn’t the only one with that flower, though. There’s someone in Sector 8 who grows them too,” he said and you found yourself sighing in relief. “But… you understand that I’ll have to investigate her, right?”

You thought for a few moments- was this a big coincidence? Your mother did deliver flowers to Mr. Jang for display in his museum. What if she provided him with the Middlemist Blue as well? What if Mr. Jang really was involved in the Underworld’s drug dealing?

Seonghwa took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and caressing it. “You don’t have to think of the worst, y/n. I don’t think a mother who loves her daughter so much would do something that could harm her. The world doesn’t know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a drug- that could mean that your mother is unaware. After all, she’s a florist, not a pharmacist, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you took a deep breath. “But… Can you do me a favour and let me find out? With you?”

“It’s too dangerous-”

“Please,” you put a hand on his. “If it involves my mother… you understand why I have to, right? I could also help you with Mr. Jang’s involvement. We could do this together.”

Seonghwa thought about it. “You’re not doing anything on your own, okay? Don’t pull a move and make everyone around you suspicious.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I also don’t want you to confront your mother until I’m sure she’s the one supplying whoever’s involved. She could simply be keeping a rare flower safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Seonghwa chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, making your smile change into surprise. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You understood what he meant. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”

There it was again- another conversation he was sure he’d had with you. He patted your cheek. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

You nodded, finding yourself unable to draw away from him, and perhaps the spirit of Persephone possessed you for a moment as you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, making his eyes go wide in surprise. “Thank you for believing in me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa scanned your face, wanting to kiss you back but it took everything in him to simply smile and stand up to leave. He needed to clear his head, but most of all-

He needed to figure out just why he had been dreaming about you, and why the events of his dreams were playing out in the present.

—----------------------

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Seonghwa muttered as he pulled his cap further down and you groaned inwardly, taking it off and ruffling his hair, making him stop in his tracks. “What are you doing?”

“You’re looking too suspicious, Seonghwa,” you shook your head. “The mask and glasses are enough. You’re not a celebrity.”

“Might as well be,” he countered, pulling your hand and bringing you to the side when a bike passed by. “You should have disguised yourself too. My plan was better.”

“Mine is better, you’ll see,” you smiled at him and he thought you glowed in the sun. “Just a couple interested in art. What’s suspicious about that?”

It was a very basic plan- you wanted to go and check out the Wonderland Art Museum and see just how much your mother was involved- you were going to introduce yourself to Mr. Jang and you were bringing your ‘boyfriend’ with you. Seonghwa agreed to it because you insisted that you needed to learn just what your mother’s role was before he began investigating her, and for another reason-

Because you wanted to go out with Seonghwa, though you’ll never admit it out loud.

Interestingly, Seonghwa didn’t suggest someone else take his place or you go alone- it wasn’t uncommon to go alone. He had a few things he wanted to learn about you too, and he planned to find out today.

You both paused at the entrance, spotting yourselves in the reflecting glass- your lavender outfit was quite a contrast with his all black. The guards checked your ids, scanned you and allowed you to go inside and when Seonghwa exhaled loudly, you smacked his arm. 

“Not subtle at all, Mr. Park.”

“I’m only teasing you,” he rolled his eyes as he laughed. “You think I haven’t done this? Sneaked in and gotten into trouble? More times than I can count.”

You made an impressed face and made your way to the display section, blown by the magnificent art pieces and the florals surrounding them. “Mother really put her heart and soul into this. No wonder she thought I couldn’t take over this job when I suggested that. My initial plan did fail for a reason.”

“You can go ahead and look at the flowers or whatever,” Seonghwa looked down at your still linked hands. “I’ll hang around and… observe. I need to check who the owners of these paintings are.”

“I think it’s better if we stick together- and you can lead the way. I don’t think I need to take a closer look at the flowers,” you shifted your hands so you were holding his arm now. “Better?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, gulping before he nodded. He wondered why he was so damn nervous around you. This wasn’t his first date-

Was he thinking of this as a date?

He led the way and you went from one art piece to another, observing for a few minutes. One of the guides answered whatever questions Seonghwa had. When you were at the heart of the display, Seonghwa finally asked what he wanted to. “What was your life like back at home?”

He noticed you tense for the smallest moment and he may have dismissed it had he not noticed you do that whenever someone talked about home. “Nothing much. Boring, if I have to say, but I have to credit my mother for all I am today.”

“Even the dark parts?” Seonghwa teased.

“Especially those,” you grinned at him, glad he was keeping it light. “She’s the only family I have- my father was never in the picture. She did what she had to.” He didn’t probe further, nodding slowly and guiding you to the next part, wondering just why your relationship with your mother was rocky. You asked him about his family.

“We’re a small family, but we’re close,” you could see his eyes curve and you bet he was smiling under the mask. “But when I look at you… I think you found a family here. The way you are with Siyeon and Wooyoung… it’s endearing.”

“Old friends are like family,” you smiled, agreeing. Seonghwa motioned towards the guards stationed near the far end- it had to be the office. “Should we take a closer look?”

“No, the guards might recognise me if Mr. Jang is involved,” he said, leading you to the other corner and you continued admiring the art while he looked at the office. “Can I ask why you wanted to open a cafe as a florist?”

“Well,” you thought about it. “I’ve practically lived with flowers. It’s what I’m best at and what I’m most confident about, though I started hating it a little when I felt like I hadn’t explored my options much. But when Wooyoung suggested opening up a cafe because he loved cooking for others… I think that’s when I looked at it differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you think people look when they receive food or flowers? There’s not only happy occasions, but they’re both meaningful. To be a part of someone’s life or routine… I liked the idea of that. So we decided to partner up- Wooyoung gives the food and I give the flowers. It may sound stupid but-”

“No, it doesn’t,” Seonghwa insisted. “I heard somewhere, that even the darkest of places can be brightened by flowers, and even the darkest of humans can be moved.”

You narrowed your eyes at Seonghwa. You had, of course, heard that in your dream. “Where did you hear that- oh, look at that.”

Seonghwa followed your eyes to Mr. Jang going to his office room, followed by who had to be his secretary. He was about to turn away reflexively but you tightened your grip on his arm instead. “We’re going to his office.”

“We are not-”

“My mom sent a wine bottle for him, and I am simply delivering it on her behalf,” you motioned to the bag you were wearing which contained the gift and he rolled his eyes. “You can stay back if you want to-”

“No, I’ll come with you,” he said, looking like he was in pain.

You considered that. “Won’t he recognise you?”

“I think if he’s involved, it might shake him a little, seeing me with you,” Seonghwa was almost smirking. “That is, if your mother is involved too.”

“Ah… so you’re going to use me as bait? Noted,” you said and began to move forward and he laughed, grabbing your hand and stopping you but you pretended to be sour about it and made it to the office, letting him grab your hand when you knocked.

The secretary opened the door. “What business do you have?”

“I’m here from Eden Florals,” you said, “on behalf of the owner. She’s an acquaintance of Mr. Jang- she sent a gift for him.”

The secretary asked you to wait a moment and then let you in. You took out the gift first and then handed it to Mr. Jang with a bow. “I’m y/n from Eden Florals.”

“Of course,” Mr. Jang got up and shook hands with you. “I remember seeing a picture of you at your greenhouse when I went for a visit. You’re all grown up now!”

You smiled shyly. “My mother sends her regards. I’ve actually been wanting to visit your museum for quite a while ever since I moved to the city, but couldn’t get the chance.”

“And it seems like you did,” Mr. Jang glanced at Seonghwa.

“Yep,” you squeezed his hand, urging him to take his mask off. “This is my boyfriend, Seonghwa. He’s a fan of your work.”

“Nice to meet you,” Seonghwa said and you watched as Mr. Jang paused for a moment before shaking his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” he commented before sitting down. “You’re quite busy these days, I’ve heard.”

You pretended to be surprised. “Do you know each other?”

“Oh, didn’t he tell you?” Mr. Jang laughed. “He’s a very famous prosecutor around here. We’re all a little wary around him even when we’re clean as a slate.”

“That must mean he’s good at his job,” you passed a warm smile to Seonghwa and took a moment to look around. You found nothing suspicious at the first glance. “Well, I must get going now- sorry for taking so much of your time.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I hope you visit again. Send my regards to your mother too,” he said and you bowed before leaving the office, deciding to just exit the museum as well.

“So?” Seonghwa asked when you finally got out. “What do you think?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s involved- he looked more surprised to see you,” you thought. “I’m not sure about my mother though- what do you think?”

“I’m not so sure either,” Seonghwa inhaled deeply. “But I know for sure that he’s aware of what’s going on in the Underworld, at least.”

“Well then,” you paused, spotting a barbeque restaurant and feeling your stomach growl at the thought of food. “Shall we think about it over some food? My treat for dragging you along.”

“Shouldn’t we just go back?”

“Come on,” you elbowed him. “You said you wanted to live a little, right?”

Seonghwa gave you a look but urged you to lead the way and you stifled your grin as you entered the restaurant and gave your orders.

“You remembered that I said that,” he said after you both relaxed. 

“Of course I did,” you shrugged, “We have that in common.”

“Is there something you want to do then?” Seonghwa rested his face on his hands, elbow propped on the table, looking casually at you. “I can’t figure you out. Sometimes you’re trying to dissolve in the background and then sometimes… you pull a bold move like you just did in Mr. Jang’s office.”

Before you could answer, the food arrived and you took that moment to think. “I could say a few things about you too, Prosecutor Park Seonghwa,” you teased and he groaned in amusement. “You seem miles away sometimes but then… you’re right here.”

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Are you talking about how I space out sometimes? Because I’ve been doing a lot of that ever since I met you. You make me confused.”

“Oh? How?” You asked, taking a bite of the meat. 

“I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a madman so I’ll let you know some other time,” he promised and you made a face at that. “It’s also probably because you’re quite weird too-”

“I could say the same for you!” You laughed. “You talk to yourself when you’re working! I thought I was hearing things and then I thought you were on a call or something, but you were just arguing with yourself.”

Seonghwa hid his face. “I have to do that when I’m lost while I’m connecting the dots. And you! You stare into the space like you can actually see something! I passed by one time and thought you were possessed!”

You both had a good laugh over that. “We’re all strange in some ways,” you acknowledged. “Speaking of, did you find anything strange about the paintings?”

“Yeah, I’ve got someone on it,” he checked his phone. “I just need to check if Mr. Jang’s really the owner of those paintings that he claims are his, or if most of the owners are involved in this drug business. What are you going to do, though?”

“I think I should visit back home- when my mom is away. Ugh, I don’t know how I’ll work that part out, but I need her to be away if I want to confirm my suspicions.”

“You might be offended to hear this, but…” Seonghwa began and you urged him to continue. “Normally, someone would have refused to believe their mother was involved in something like this. Why are you entertaining the possibility, I’m wondering.”

You took a deep breath. “We’re not on the best terms, as you must have seen when she visited the cafe,” you looked at him and he nodded. “She’s… overprotective. Overbearing. And she wasn’t the best mother- she could have done a lot of things differently about parenting,” you let out a short laugh, sighing. “And anyways, the Middlemist Blue is very rare. I can pull out of this but I shouldn’t stop you from investigating.”

“I understand,” he looked a bit apologetic and you shook your hand in dismissal, pouring him a drink and changing the topic,asking him how he became friends with everyone you knew and how he got to where he was. After you were done eating, he took the bus with you which stopped near your cafe and decided to drop you off.

“You don’t need to, I can find my way,” you teased, the few drinks you had back there making you both more comfortable with each other, especially when you both had talked so much the whole day. 

“You know my car is parked there, right?” He laughed and you pouted. “It was your idea of a ‘date’.”

“You liked it though,” you elbowed him and he grinned. “When should we plan our next date? Do you want to go somewhere else before we go to my town?”

“I didn’t realise I was coming with you there,” Seonghwa casually grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.

“Of course you are coming with me,” you glanced at him. “We have a nice view there. I’d really like to show you.”

“If you insist,” he scoffed, though he was pleased. “Is there anywhere you want to go then?”

“I asked you,” you poked his arm. “Come on. Spill.”

“Well… I think I’d really like to go to the beach. It’s been forever since I went.”

“That’s great. I haven’t gone in forever. We should all go together- I could ask Siyeon and Wooyoung-”

“We could all go together, but…” Seonghwa paused, turning to you. “I’d like it more if it was just the two of us.”

“Oh, really?” You were about to tease him but then it sank in. “Oh.”

Seonghwa smiled, taking your hand and walking the rest of the way to the cafe in silence while your heart thumped wildly. When you arrived, he turned to you once again.

“Thank you for today. It was fun and productive. I never thought it could be both.”

You shook your head. “Always thinking about work first. I still haven’t forgotten how you used me as bait-”

Seonghwa shut you up with a chaste kiss to your cheek, laughing when he noticed how surprised you were. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay, just took me by surprise,” you unconsciously touched where he had kissed you.

“Do you like it then? Should I do it again now that you’re-”

“Ah, you’re drunk,” you laughed, pushing him away when he tried to do it again. “Kiss me when your head is not in the clouds.”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, his gaze changing and you realised what you had said. “I think I might be drunk too. I should go back inside…”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Seonghwa promised and you waved goodbye, heading inside and unable to stop smiling for a good few moments.

—----------------------

“It’s not how I imagined us to be,” you said, caressing his hair, his head resting on your lap. It looked like he had stars in his hair. “Everyone thinks you’re the villain- that you’ve brought me here by force. It wasn’t my intention to make you misunderstood-”

“It doesn’t matter, Persephone,” Hades sighed in pleasure. “As long as you’re with me and happy… it doesn’t matter what the world thinks of us.”

“But Hades,” you couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. “Mother will do anything to get me back. She won’t settle for 6 months on Earth and 6 months in the Underworld deal. She might get your brothers on her side, and then-”

Hades pulled away, sitting in front of you. “Did you know what would happen if you ate those pomegranate seeds?” You nodded and he continued. “You chose to do this. Will you choose to be by my side when everyone thinks I manipulated you into doing so?”

“Of course I will. I’m doing it now,” you pointed out and Hades smiled. “You’re the first person who saw me for who I truly was, and accepted me. You made me the Queen of Underworld and offered me whatever I wanted. I want to be with you, Hades. I don’t want to go back to Earth.”

Hades tucked his finger under your chin to make you look at him as he said, “You’re also the Goddess of Spring. You brought life to the Underworld- look around,” he glanced at the once dead forest that now bloomed with flowers of all sorts, bloomed with life. “I never thought it could be warm here- warm here too,” he touched his heart. “And you’re also the first one to look past the monster everyone has made me to be.”

With that, he leaned forward and kissed you in such a gentle manner that you wondered how he still managed to stay alive all alone in the cold Underworld. You kissed him back with the promise that he would never have to feel cold again. Hades was surprised when you kissed him back, because for a moment he wondered if he had made a mistake, if he had been too hasty- but when you climbed in his lap to kiss him deeper and his arms wound around your waist, he knew that he had fallen for you ages ago.

~

You woke up with a groan, your muscles aching and you found that you had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. You rubbed your eyes, hearing water run- Siyeon must be showering. With a sigh, you got up and decided to make breakfast, cracking eggs and frying them, turning the coffee machine on-

And pausing in the middle of flipping eggs when the memory of the dream came back. You poked your tongue in your cheek, resuming the frying and scoffing at the memory- Hades kissing Persephone.

Seonghwa kissing you.

You cursed under your breath- it felt too real. You could feel butterflies in your stomach- or maybe it was because you already had a thing for Seonghwa. You had to admit that you did, especially with the conversation a few nights ago when he had kissed you on the cheek and you had asked him to kiss you again when he was sober.

You had met Seonghwa after that, but he had been a bit busy so he only said hi or made small talk when he stopped by at your cafe, both of you waiting for the day your mom would leave town which would be the weekend, you found out thanks to Siyeon. You both were pretending that conversation didn’t happen and things were pretty normal, if you had to say-

“Gosh, you scared me. Why are you smiling like a fool?”

You snorted, setting the table and sitting across Siyeon. “Just had a silly dream.”

“I had one too,” Siyeon laughed. “I was running away from a giant chicken. I think I should stop eating too much chicken…”

“Do you believe in coincidences, though?” You wondered out loud. “Like… do you think we can foresee things in our dreams?”

Siyeon raised a brow at the sudden change of tone. “I think I read something about that once. That sometimes we can actually foresee things. It’s pretty rare though, and most of the time it’s our mind making up scenarios.”

“But like, what if you’ve been foreseeing things for a while?” You leaned forward. 

“I don’t know,” Siyeon shrugged. “Are you?”

“Not really,” you shrugged back. “Just wondering.”

You wanted to tell her that you saw Seonghwa in your dreams so many times before you met him, but… would she believe it? Even if she did, she’d think you were crazy. You couldn’t blame her for that- anyone would think you were crazy.

“You look like you have been having trouble sleeping, though,” Siyeon commented.

“Yeah, I haven’t had good sleep in a while,” you rubbed your face. “I’m going to go change.”

Before Siyeon could ask more, you were off to your room. After getting ready, she dropped you at the furniture store where Wooyoung was already waiting for you. He had picked a few options and you both went through the designs, choosing round wooden tables and comfortable cushion chairs in light pink colour for the cafe- you were pleased by how it looked in your mind so far. 

“I think Hongjoong’s idea of a vintage theme really stuck to me. This is going to look perfect,” you pointed at some old frames.

“Get anything you want- I’m ready to spoil you,” Wooyoung nodded. “Just remember the budget. We spared a lot since you’re painting yourself.”

“Yeah, I just need to get some paints now,” you put your hands in your coat pocket as Wooyoung filled the receipt. “Brown and white should be okay, huh?”

“Yeah,” he was done. “Let’s look at the curtains next?”

You spent the good part of the afternoon shopping as much as you both could, getting lunch in between and making a timeline of when you needed to get things done and started. Wooyoung was busy with his cooking classes but you were mostly free so you were going to paint. He said he would ask the boys to give you a hand but you declined, saying it was something you’d prefer to do by yourself and you would be calling them anyway when you would need to decorate and set the furniture.

You got a text from Seonghwa when Wooyoung was about to drop you back at the cafe. 

Hi. Can you meet me at the intersection near the cafe? I’m passing by and need to hand you some documents- I’m meeting someone and I can’t risk taking them along.

If you’re not busy, that is. 

If you’re busy, I’ll just hide them in my office.

You smiled at the texts and Wooyoung glanced at you. “Already have a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not that,” you groaned. “Can you drop me off at the intersection instead?”

“Meeting someone?” Wooyoung teased after agreeing. “I gotta see who it is.”

“Gosh,” you knew Wooyoung wasn’t going to back out so you gave in. “It’s only Seonghwa. He needs to give me something.”

“Seonghwa?” Wooyoung scoffed. “When did you two become so close?”

You suddenly felt guilty for not telling Wooyoung and Siyeon anything about Seonghwa yet. “We’re not that close. He’s just using my office to hide a few important documents because his house got ransacked twice- the case he’s working on. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Wooyoung made an impressed face. “He’s trusting you with that?”

“You know I’m good at hiding things,” you teased and he laughed, recalling that one time you were fourteen and bought a phone and hid it from your mother for about a year until she found out and gave you hell for it. 

He dropped you off with a promise that you’d give him more details and you waved goodbye, spotting Seonghwa at the far end near a shop. You went to him and he apologised for making you come out when you were busy.

“I was just heading back to the cafe- I was out running errands with Wooyoung,” you told him, taking the USB and putting it in the inside pocket of your coat. “I’m interested to hear why you think this could be stolen.”

“It’s crucial information… and I don’t want to be careless,” he looked around, running a hand through his hair and your stomach swooped when your mind decided to flash back that one scene from your dream where you were running a hand through his hair instead- “And I think I have a tail, which is why I didn’t stop by the cafe too much. I need to find out who it is this time.”

“Oh,” you pursed your lips. “I’ll hide it well then.”

“I’m sure you will,” he smiled, checking the time. “I’ve got to go. See you later?”

“See you,” you saluted, going backwards where you came from. You took two turns down the street when you felt eyes on you and you turned around, catching a shadow hide behind a pole- since it was getting dark, you couldn’t see well, but-

If Seonghwa had a tail, it was possible they were following you now.

Which meant there was no way in hell you could go back to the cafe.

You decided to go to the convenience store instead, taking another turn. You took out your phone and used the screen and the lights to see if anyone was actually following you or you were just being anxious-

There was someone. And he was close. 

You unlocked your phone and texted Seonghwa: I have a tail and he’s following me rn. You called him next.

“Wooyoung! Did you see my text? I sent you the receipt of the furniture.”

“Uh, it’s Seonghwa-”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Can you just take a look and see if it’s the right one?”

“Is anyone following you right now?”

“Yep,” you attempted to sound cheerful because you were pretty sure whoever was behind you could hear you. You decided to stay where it was crowded, though. At least he wouldn’t attempt something in the middle of a crowd, right?

“Oh goodness. Where are you?”

“Dinner? I think I’ll just have ramen at the convenience store.”

“Got it. Stay safe- don’t run. Stay around people, okay? I’m coming.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said. “Aren’t you busy?”

“Stay on call, okay?” Seonghwa said and you could hear his breath sound like he was running. He had to be on foot now- you glanced around casually, noticing the man behind you properly now- he was wearing a face mask and a cap. 

Someone was starting to suspect you, it seemed. They couldn’t see you with Seonghwa.

“I don’t want to be seen with you, Wooyoung,” you almost scolded. “People will have the wrong idea.”

“Now is not the time to play games, y/n,” Seonghwa sighed. “I can see you- cross the street and when it gets busy, go to the backside of the convenience store. He’s a good distance behind you so if we run, we could lose him.”

“Got it. Bye,” you said and put your phone in your pocket, taking a deep breath and waiting for the signal to turn green, an old couple near you. You casually looked around- the man was indeed hanging around a few feet away.

You crossed the road with the couple, and after taking a sharp turn you started running when you spotted Seonghwa. He grabbed your hand and led you to an old building, exiting from the front and then going to another building, following him in the darkness and swallowing your panic until you made a stop at a parking lot.

“I think we’ve lost him,” he looked around. “You definitely had a tail-”

You sighed loudly in relief, your knees going weak and Seonghwa was quick to hold you against him, making you rest your head on his chest- you could hear his wildly thumping heart as well. Seonghwa chuckled in disbelief, patting your back. “I got you.”

“I was so scared for a moment back there,” you said as you finally looked up at him and he scanned your face, looking apologetic.

“I was more scared,” Seonghwa found himself tucking your hair behind. “I could see who's following you. I had to do something- I couldn’t simply wait and watch.”

You leaned into his touch, surprising him but then he brought you into a hug and you didn’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I never should have asked that from you- I shouldn’t have let you do this alone. I don’t even know how they figured out-”

“It’s okay- I would have done it anyway,” you only hugged him tighter. “Besides, I was smooth. I’ve got it,” you broke the hug and patted your pocket that held the USB. “You should hire me. I think I might be a natural at this.”

Seonghwa laughed at that. “I think that’s tempting,” he licked his lips as he looked at you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He drove you home and insisted that you stay there for the rest of the day, just to be on the safe side. He made a call to cancel his meeting as well. When you arrived at the apartment, you offered him to come inside for dinner.

“I’m feeling chicken and beer now,” you said, getting out of the taxi and waiting for him. “A little company would be nice.”

Seonghwa pondered for a moment before following you out. “Isn’t this where Siyeon lives as well?”

“She won’t be home until 11 tonight,” you said, leading the way inside. He took off his shoes, looking around.

“Neat,” he commented. “I thought Siyeon’s place would look more like a dungeon.”

“It did,” you laughed. “Before I moved in. She’s better now.”

Seonghwa laughed at that and you took out the USB. “Should I just hide it here? It’s better to keep important things scattered, right?”

“Maybe, yes,” he thought for a moment. “I’ll just make a few copies of it.”

You sat down with Seonghwa on the couch, putting on whatever drama was airing and watching Seonghwa make copies on his laptop, handing you the original one to hide, which you did in a random jar in the kitchen that you were sure no one else would touch. Seonghwa was impressed. “I should have hid things in the kitchen too.”

“Doesn’t work everytime,” you told him and he shut his laptop and put it aside. The chicken arrived and you found yourselves absorbed in casual discussion, from the case to how he became a prosecutor to your family.

“We’re going this weekend, by the way,” you reminded him, having finished eating about half an hour ago and just relaxing with beer now. “You’re free for the day, right?”

“I am,” he confirmed and you scanned him- head resting on his hand, arm propped on the couch, sitting very comfortably on the floor. You could imagine him as Hades. Was it really a past life you were seeing or were you possessed? There was no way you were the goddess of spring and he the king of the underworld, but…

With your present occupations, you were beginning to doubt if it really made no sense.

“You’re staring, y/n,” he commented, his voice deeper. “What are you thinking?”

You gulped unconsciously. “Sorry. Just got lost for a moment.”

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he pouted uncharacteristically and you laughed, taking the beer can away from him.

“Don’t tell me you’re drunk again!” You teased.

“I’m pretty sober right now,” he insisted and you narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t budge. “I also remember a promise I made for when I was sober-”

“Oh, please,” you looked away, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and he smiled at that.

“Do I make you nervous, y/n?” he asked, taking your hands away when you hid your cheeks and pulling them in his lap. “I’m sorry for today. I really wish you would stop involving yourself anymore.”

“Not this again,” you squeezed his hand. “We’re fine. We’re here. That’s all that matters- you know I can’t back out now anyway.”

He looked at you. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It could get worse now.”

“Well, I want you to pull out too. I want to keep you safe, but it seems like we can’t get everything that we want…” you shrugged and he felt warmth inside after hearing that. “Now can you stop looking at me like this?”

“Like what?” He teased and pulled you closer, taking you by surprise, your face inches away. “Like this?”

His gaze dropped to your lips and you felt butterflies, unable to look away, your own gaze dropping at his plump lips now parted. He ran his thumb over your lower lip, patting your cheek before drawing away but you took his hand and pulled him back, taking him by surprise.

“You haven’t kept your promise,” you said.

“I don’t think I’m fully sober,” he replied.

“Does it look like I care about that?” 

There it was- your gaze changing, your persona changing. He absolutely loved it when you got playful like this, and he wasn’t going to miss this chance. He smiled, leaning forward and hesitating before he kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment. However, when he saw you with your eyes still shut, he couldn’t help but take it a step further, brushing his lips across yours as if asking for permission and you took the next step, pecking his lips and then drawing back as if you had been caught doing something.

“Y/n,” he groaned before he cupped your face and kissed you properly, moving his lips along yours, your hands holding his wrists tightening with every second and then he drew back for a breath. You moved closer, propping yourself in his lap and he felt deja vu, his arms going around your waist as you cupped his face and kissed him deeper. 

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to feel this, but you felt like you were doing something absolutely right- you somehow knew where to touch him, where to hold him, how to kiss him- you already knew the planes and curves and edges of his face as you traced it while you kissed him, and you felt like you belonged there. Somehow, that thought made you feel overwhelmed and you broke the kiss, caressing his face as you looked him in his eyes.

“Don’t you feel like we’ve been here before, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa thought he was hearing things, but he nodded. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”

You smiled at that, pecking his lips again. “Then I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Seonghwa caressed your arms and you buried your face in his neck, wanting to feel closer, hugging him tightly. He hugged you back and held you for a long time before his phone vibrated and he came back to reality.

“I should get going before Siyeon comes. She’ll raise hell,” he laughed and you grinned.

“See you on the weekend then?” You asked. It was only two days away.

“Maybe you’ll see me before that too,” he smiled, taking his stuff and you walked him out. Before you could leave, he kissed you on your forehead.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” He said and you nodded, watching him leave, lovestruck.

—-----------------------------

You barely had the strength to move right now, but even if you did, there wasn’t any other place you would rather be, for you were home in the arms of your husband, the King of the Underworld.

Your king.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this…” he sighed. His voice sounded weary and you glanced up to meet his eyes- he looked beyond tired. “I wish I could take your pain.”

“We saw it coming, my love,” you buried your face in his neck. “One day or another, the mortals are going to forget us- we knew that. We knew we would dissipate into moths or flowers when that time came. And we are so brave to face it together- unlike the others who ended themselves.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” he insisted. “You could go to Styx. You could end this too-”

“Are you that miserable to be with me?” You teased and he laughed. You marvelled at how young his laugh sounded.

“Of course not. All I’ve ever wanted was to die in your arms.”

Your heart tugged at that- you had spent an indefinite time with Hades but when he said things like that, you felt like you were experiencing something new. 

“Do you want to make a wish, then?” You asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve used the wish we got from Hestia.”

“I don’t think it’s any use now. She’s as weak as us, if not more.”

“But we could try- if we have the same wish.”

Hades tugged your chin up. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… that this is the end, but I’d like to meet you in another life.”

“I’d like that too,” he nodded.

“Shall we wish to be reincarnated as mortal lovers then?”

“Why mortal lovers? Their lives are short and meaningless.”

“But,” you sighed dreamily. “But they know that, and still love with all their might. I’d like to have that with you once again.”

Hades smiled at that- he couldn’t have thought of something better. “Well then… let’s make that wish.”

~

“Well…” you got off the bus that stopped at the town where your home was. “This is it.”

Seonghwa put his hands in his pockets as he looked at the cloudy sky over the hills, the air feeling cleaner than usual. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is,” you smiled and Seonghwa thought there was something sad about your smile. You walked side by side, following the track that led to your house. Seonghwa made small talk but he felt like there was something weighing on you- something else other than the fact that your mother could be involved in the biggest drug scandal in the history of Wonderland, so he let the silence take over until you reached the cottage house. 

“Do you want to have some tea before we investigate?” You asked and he nodded, eager to see this part of your life. You unlocked the door and let him in and he looked around.

“It looks cosy but why is it so cold?” He shivered.

You smiled faintly. “It’s always been like this.”

You asked him to get comfortable and went to the kitchen, smiling at the pictures of your childhood hanging by the fireplace. When you came back, he asked you about the backstory of those pictures and you told him- first day of school, first broken tooth, first day at college and more. You showed him your room and he boasted how he would guess your room anywhere if he saw it- he was very familiar with your vibe now. 

“And that’s my mom’s room, if you’re up for snooping,” you said and went inside.

“Very minimalistic,” he observed. “I don’t know what to look for, actually. You can do the snooping. I’m kind of scared of her.”

You chuckled at that, going through her drawers and the bookshelf, asking Seonghwa to check if there were hidden compartments in the room. However, you found nothing.

“She’s not that simple, my mother,” you said as you made sure everything was in place before exiting the room. “We should check her private greenhouse. She may have something there.”

“Do you have all her keys?” Seonghwa asked and you nodded. “I don’t think she’ll keep something like that where you could access it.”

“I think otherwise,” you glanced at him. “We’ve been playing cat and mouse for years now,” you told him as you unlocked her greenhouse, shivering a little as a few bad memories flashed in your mind. “I think this is where she’ll keep it, and then she’ll test me.”

Seonghwa didn’t say anything, just watched you as you went around and zoned out, staring at the far end corner. He decided to give you some space but after a few minutes, he found you still staring at the same spot. 

He walked to you and gently put his arms around your waist in a back hug and felt you finally relax. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat. “Just some bad memories here.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you smiled faintly- you had missed this. You caressed his hands as you looked ahead. 

“She used to lock me up here when I misbehaved, and I wasn’t the most well-behaved kid as a child,” you let out a short laugh. “I learned to love the dark. It worked until she found out I wasn’t scared anymore.”

“Oh, y/n,” he hugged you tighter. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay anymore.”

You pursed your lips, not wanting to cry so you turned around and let him sway you in a hug until you felt better. He sighed. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I knew.”

“I needed to come here one day or another,” you shrugged. “And I’m glad you’re the one with me.”

Seonghwa caressed your cheek, kissing you deeply and hugging you again. “You’re really strong, you know that?”

You smiled, breaking the hug. “Thank you. I’m just pretending to be.”

Seonghwa smiled back, tucking your hair. “We all are, aren’t we?”

You nodded, spotting the familiar flower behind him. “That’s the Middlemist Blue. They’re more than I expected.”

Seonghwa turned around and found a few pots of the very rare flower. “It feels unreal to see it here. Do you think she’s only trying to keep this flower from going extinct, or…”

“I’ll look around- I really can’t say,” you bit your lip, going through the cupboards until you found a locked drawer. “What do you think she keeps here?”

“I don’t want to guess,” he admitted. “No key?”

“Let’s break it?”

“No, we don’t want to leave traces,” he said, glancing at your head. “Bobby pins?”

“Oooh,” you grinned, taking the pins out of your hair. “Don’t tell me you know how to do that.”

“I’ve learned a few tricks in my field- though one would question if I’m really doing something morally right,” he began unlocking the drawer. “I say as long as it’s serving a good purpose, you’re allowed to do something like this.”

“Wow,” you said as it unlocked and he flicked his hair proudly, making you stick out your tongue before you opened the drawer to examine the contents. You found her old pictures, a few of your father, and some receipts that you handed to Seonghwa.

“So she is providing the Middlemist Blue to Mr. Jang,” he went through the receipts. “Question is- is she keeping these because she’s involved directly in the drug dealing, or because she suspects something and is keeping proof?”

“Yeah, because she wouldn’t keep the receipts in this drawer unless they meant something important,” you nodded. 

“But these date only a year ago,” Seonghwa observed. “Did Mr. Jang change his provider or did she only start suspecting foul play?”

“I guess only she could answer that,” you took pictures of all the receipts. “You’ll have to call her as a witness now, right?”

“I suppose, yes. I’ve found some other things too, but it’s better to call her privately and discuss it,” he looked sorry and you told him it was okay. You locked the drawer back and exited the greenhouse, taking a deep breath and turning to Seonghwa. “Do you want to go to my comfort place to get some food? I wanna show you the lake too before we go back.”

Seonghwa agreed- the day had been tense and he wanted to make the atmosphere between you two light again. You took him to the restaurant by the lake where you had some seafood. You walked around, now comfortably joking about stuff and making small talk until you reached the quietest spot around the lake next to the stream.

“I used to come here when I needed to be alone,” you settled down on the grass. “Never thought I’d bring someone here, much less a prosecutor who’s investigating my mother.”

“Please, can you stop joking about that already,” he laughed painfully, settling down next to you. “Tell me what you like about this place.”

“Well,” you looked up at the stars in the sky. “That. The sound of water. The dirt,” you patted the ground. “The peace this place provided. I felt disconnected here, as if I belonged to another world and was simply a visitor here.”

“Interesting,” he looked up as well. “I like the night sky too. Especially the moon. I feel at home here.”

You glanced at him- you’d heard that before, in a dream. You realised you had said the same thing as Persephone too. Seonghwa looked at you cautiously as well, swallowing the questions down but still daring to ask, “Do you dream when you sleep?”

“Don’t we all?” You frowned at how cryptic he sounded.

“I dream of another life sometimes,” Seonghwa decided to play it safe. “I dream that I’m all alone and cold in another world, until someone comes and puts life in me, around me.”

You felt your heart sink- could it be? 

“I dream too,” your voice was quiet. “That I’m misunderstood and confined until someone frees me and takes me to another world where I can make my own choices. Where I can be free and not have to pretend to be someone else.”

Seonghwa and you both stared at each other, each lost as they tried to fit the pieces together. “Have you heard the story of Hades and Persephone, y/n?”

As soon as he said that, you almost lost your balance in disbelief. It couldn’t be a coincidence this time, could it? 

You had one shot. You had to play it right.

“I’ve heard many versions,” you said cautiously and found his puzzled gaze confusing. “But… I believe in the one that I dream of.”

“No way,” Seonghwa breathed, turning to you. “What does the Underworld need?’”

It was impossible, but you found yourself leaning forward and caressing his cheekbone, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

“‘It needs a touch of spring’.”

Seonghwa couldn’t believe his ears. He watched you laugh in disbelief as well. “Don’t tell me you’ve been dreaming about Persephone too, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa scoffed, looking up helplessly. “You’ve been dreaming about Hades?”

“I saw you before I ever met you, can you believe that?” You said and he held your hands, squeezing them. “I thought I was crazy.”

“I thought I was crazy- especially when I knew what your mother looked like before I saw her, and then I heard her call you Kore- I couldn’t believe my ears, I- this is unbelievable,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed. “If you’re Hades and I’m Persephone… what are we supposed to do, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa shut his eyes, letting himself relax fully for the first time now that he knew he wasn’t alone. He heard you sniff and opened his eyes, finding your face wet with tears. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I don’t know what to do, Seonghwa,” you let him wipe your tears away. “I missed you. I’ve yearned for you my whole life, and when I saw you that day? I thought I was insane. I don’t know how I managed to hold myself back, but oh, goodness, I feel like I’ve waited an eternity to be with you-”

Seonghwa kissed your lips, taking you by surprise but you kissed back as eagerly as he was, clinging on to each other as if that could wipe the distance of aeons away. He found himself kissing your temple, your forehead, the places he used to kiss the most as Hades, and he let you run your hands through his hair like you always did. You let him get on top of you, not caring if anyone could see- it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now, except that you had finally found him.

He broke apart, resting his head at the crook of your neck, kissing your exposed skin lazily and you thought you could dissolve right in the ground. “You need to tell me everything.”

“Well…” you laughed, still finding the whole situation unbelievable. “Shall we find a place to stay the night then? I don’t think we can go back to my house…”

“Let’s go back to Sector 1- you can stay at my place… if you want to.”

“Of course, I don’t mind,” you smiled and decided to waste no more time.

Throughout the bus ride, you shared your stories- the first dream you had, when you had it, how it changed when you met each other. When you got to his place and had a few drinks (and a few kisses), you managed to sketch a timeline.

“So Persephone- or Kore, Demeter’s daughter,” you began, “didn’t know she was a goddess. She thought she was an ordinary flower nymph, but she had something else in her- she could make the flowers… die?”

“Sort of,” Seonghwa agreed. “I think she had anger issues.”

You gave him a look and he grinned. You sighed. “So she might have caused some destruction but Demeter always hid her from the world. That’s an awful lot like my mother. Anyways, one day she was panicking by the lake when Hades found her.”

“He said she called for him,” Seonghwa recalled. “Fitting how we found each other by the lake again, huh?”

You considered that, nodding. “So he offers her his company. Why?”

“He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him,” Seonghwa rubbed his chin. “And he found her powers interesting too.”

“So Persephone calls for him again- or he comes by- did he stalk her? Anyways, they talk a lot and get to know each other. Persephone realises Hades is not the cold monster everyone has made him to be. Hades realises she’s not the good girl she pretends to be.”

“I don’t think he stalked her,” Seonghwa pouted and you laughed. “Even if he did… I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “The events are somewhat similar to what’s happening in our lives now, right? You’re still the King slash Grim Reaper of the Underworld. I’m still a floral goddess. So the question is… why are we having these dreams? Are we a part of an experiment? Or is it simply fate playing games with us? Were we really Hades and Persephone in our past lives?”

“Do you remember that dream?” Seonghwa looked at you. “We were powerless and old. When people started forgetting us, we started fading.”

You raised a brow at how he was now referring to the entities as yourselves. “And then we made a promise to stay by each other’s side, and-”

“And made a wish. What was the wish, y/n?”

You felt as if you’d been dumped with cold water. “To be reincarnated as mortal lovers.”

Seonghwa smiled, “I don’t think we have to think too much then. We got what we wished for, it seems.”

You caressed his hand. “Do you think we only met each other because we’re Hades and Persephone?”

“I don’t care about that, but one thing I know for sure,” he looked into your eyes, eager to erase any doubts you had. “I fell for you in this life because of who you are today. I don’t care if we’re Hades and Persephone, if we’re meant to be or whatever. I know for sure that I would have liked you even if we were not.”

“Gosh, you say that but you’re still as cringy as Hades,” you laughed, making him groan. You scooted closer to him on the couch, letting your hand travel to the nape of his neck. “Well … I like you for just you too. I like Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wanted to be sure that the old feelings weren’t messing with me, but you’re right. We’re really meant to be if we like each other for who we are today.”

“But you know what I like better?” Seonghwa’s gaze was hot as he traced your lips. “I know you- not the basics, but I know in my heart what you like,” he let his hands travel down the curve of your neck, satisfied when you shivered involuntarily. “And I’ve wanted to do this for a long, long time.”

He took your lips in a kiss, swiping his tongue along them and you immediately opened up for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth, the memories of it tugging at the back of your mind. You positioned yourself on top of him, arms around his neck, his hands on your waist as he kissed you passionately and you let your hips roll once, making him groan into the kiss and break apart.

“You’re not the only one,” you said and Seonghwa sucked in his breath at how dark your gaze was. “I remember it all too well. You were the King of the Underworld, and I was your Queen. This-” you looked down at your bodies. “This was my throne. You were cold and mysterious to the world, but for me, you were vulnerable and warm,” you smiled, curling your hands in his hair and leaning in to whisper in his ear-

“And I liked your hair longer.”

Seonghwa laughed deeply at that, shaking his head and letting you pepper kisses where he liked- along his jaw, on his nose, and then on his lips, which quickly turned heated, extra layers of clothes off and bodies as close as possible. Every brush of the skin and every kiss felt heightened, now that you both remembered what you had found and what you had lost. And there was no hesitation in your actions now. You had never been more sure about anything.

He was the one for you.

—----------------------

“I can’t believe you could suspect me of something like this,” your mother glared at you and you felt heat creep up your cheeks but Seonghwa’s hand on your thigh made you feel better.

“She’s not suspecting you, ma’am. She’s just trying to keep you safe,” Seonghwa’s tone was hard and you felt a bit proud of how he was standing up for you despite panicking earlier because he was very scared of your mother- he had the memories of Demeter to blame. 

Seonghwa had allowed you to call your mother to your cafe for a private discussion first, now that he had conclusive evidence- but he wasn’t telling you right now, insisting he needed to hear your mother’s statement as well. You were thankful for that and he told you it was the least he could do for you. 

“I’m doing this for your sake, whether you believe it or not,” you sighed. “You just need to tell me if you really know what Mr. Jang and the others are doing with the Middlemist Blue.”

“He’s always been interested in flowers,” your mother replied, tucking her hair back in her bun. “So when he showed interest in that rare flower and offered a high price for me to reproduce it, I didn’t suspect anything. I would have done that sooner or later anyway.”

“But did you know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a hallucinogen?” 

“Not at all,” she shook her head firmly. “I didn’t, until… until a year ago when I heard something suspicious- Mr. Jang was talking to his friend, saying something about a flower that makes him see another world. I overheard him talk about how he needed to find another source for the flower too. That’s when I started to keep the receipts- he found out that I suspected him and threatened me, but I was smarter. I told him if something happened to me… my daughter would expose the details to the world.”

You frowned. “Your plan was good but I had no idea- you never told me anything.”

“I didn’t know how to, and I didn’t want to involve you in something dangerous,” she pursed her lips. “They could have hurt you.”

You bit your lips as you thought. “So that’s it? You’ve been keeping track of his receipts?”

“I was trying to find a way to get out of this mess, but then I saw you,” she looked at Seonghwa and he straightened. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wondered why he sounded familiar.”

You and Seonghwa looked at each other. Seonghwa asked, “Why?”

“You were investigating the case,” she scoffed in amusement. “And you were by my daughter’s side. I thought you approached her because you were suspecting me. Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Seonghwa said before you could. “We have mutual friends. We met each other by chance.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged. “Are you done interrogating me?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath. “I’ll provide witness protection to you- you can stop providing Mr. Jang with the flowers now. I know you weren’t directly involved, I just needed to hear it from you. I do have to ask you, though… how do you know Mr. Ahn?”

Your mother tensed at that. “What’s that got to do with any of this?”

You frowned at the sudden change of her tone and Seonghwa looked at you before saying, “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceutical frequents your place a lot, doesn’t he?”

“What has my private life got to do with this case?” She practically seethed and you raised a brow in realisation.

“Don’t tell me you’re dating him?” You scoffed. “I knew you were seeing someone, I just didn’t realise who… wait-” you looked at Seonghwa. “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals?”

“Thank you for cooperating, ma’am,” Seonghwa got up and bowed. “I think you should also stop seeing Mr. Ahn for a while. I’ll be issuing an arrest warrant for him tonight.”

Your mother gasped in realisation and you stood confused, wondering just what was going on. However, she stood up and straightened after a moment. “I should have known. No one’s interested in a mere florist- not a man of his standing.”

“Don’t be too disappointed- not everyone is like that,” Seonghwa had a faint smile as he took your hand and caressed it, making you jump- you hadn’t told your mother anything about Seonghwa yet, and she was quick to notice. She only smiled knowingly. 

“I’ll catch up with her later, but you-” she pointed a finger at Seonghwa, sighing. “You better do a good job at catching those assholes, and my daughter better not get hurt.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Seonghwa nodded.

“Can I have a moment with you, Kore?” She asked and you nodded, going outside with her. She sighed deeply, looking at you with fondness, which was rare, but perhaps this time, you had earned it. 

“I would have scolded you but… I’m glad he’s smart,” she grinned and you laughed nervously as well. She patted your cheek. “Come visit me soon. I’ll have no company now.”

“I’m sorry about Mr. Ahn…” you hesitated but she rolled her eyes.

“I should have known better-”

“No. You couldn’t have guessed,” you assured her, patting her arm awkwardly. “It’s okay. You should come by more often too. Wooyoung’s mother misses you. You and Siyeon’s mother should all hang out or something.”

“Open this place soon then,” she said. “We’ll gather here.”

You watched her leave until Seonghwa came by your side. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but… I had to respect her privacy too.”

“You did the right thing,” you nodded. “I’m not sure how Mr. Ahn is involved.”

“I don’t know whether he really likes your mother or he used her, but… the company that’s been creating the drug is his too. He set it up to put his rivals behind bars- he purposely disturbed the peace. He pretended to be fazed by the loss when Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1 stopped using his products, and he used that to create a drug scandal, tempt the people of power with the drug and then put them behind bars. He must have felt like a god, using everyone like that in his game.”

“Wow… that’s a lot,” you whistled. “How did you find that out?”

“Mr. Jang and I struck a deal,” he smirked and you gasped in realisation. “We decided to help each other out a little. When I told him there was a possibility that Dr. Ahn was behind all of this, he was all ears. I’ll have to cut him some slack though, where I can.”

“Wicked,” you grinned. “So what’s next?”

“I’ll be prosecuting Mr. Ahn… and he better have the best lawyer in Wonderland to defend him,” Seonghwa smiled. “He can’t get out of this now.”

“It’s going to be over soon, huh?” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m glad it’s over, Seonghwa.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “It’ll take a few weeks and I’ll be busy but… when I’m free from all of this, do you want to go to the beach?”

“You have to make it to the cafe opening first,” you laughed. “It’s next Saturday, you haven’t forgotten, right?”

“Of course not,” he kissed your lips. “I’ll be there.”

He was there, as promised, when you opened the cafe officially. You and Wooyoung felt proud when all your friends and family arrived, admiring the floral exterior with flowers for sale as well, Hongjoong’s soundtrack running in the background, the vintage theme going along with the whole vibe. The first day was as busy as it could have gotten, especially when your friends brought their coworkers and colleagues and a famous blogger came as well. Wooyoung was excellent in the kitchen, working well with the team he’d hired, and you stood as a cashier for the day shift, greeting everyone and giving away flowers, making sure everything was okay.

Siyeon came at night again with the mothers, and when your mother gave you an approving wink, you felt like you had finally done something good to please her. Wooyoung noted that, joining the mothers at the table himself and Siyeon pouted because even her mother loved him. You called Siyeon to where you were standing at the counter.

“If you don’t tell him that he looks hot in the apron or whatever, then I will, because I know that’s what you’re thinking,” you poked her stomach and she glared at you. “Come on. Even I’m dating now. I didn’t realise you were such a coward.”

“He doesn’t like me like that-”

“Trust me, he does. He can’t stop glancing at you whenever you’re around. And he even took you to his apartment to make you taste his dishes! He never does that!”

“That’s only because I have superior taste buds-”

“Shut up, and I better see you both together tonight,” you announced and she muttered curses under her breath which you ignored. At that moment, Wooyoung passed by you two, casually patting Siyeon’s back and you wiggled your brows at her. Wooyoung went into the kitchen and while you two were teasing each other, he came out and told you he was almost out of ingredients, so you should close the cafe for the day- it was almost 10 anyway.

“The first day was a success, right?” You asked and he squeezed your hand.

“Huge success. We did it,” he grinned and you grinned back, going to change the sign on the door and watching Siyeon compliment something. You went outside for air.

You inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of achievement having announced the cafe closed, however… Seonghwa was very late. You wondered where he was-

“Are you not going to let me in?” He came in front of you out of nowhere and you blinked. 

“You’re late!” You pouted. 

“I know, just got held back at the court, but… I bought you something to make up for it.” He took out a box and you narrowed your eyes before you opened it.

“Oh goodness, you really are worse than Hades,” you laughed, making him grin. “Couple rings?”

“Aren’t people into this these days?” He took out your ring, taking your hand and looking at you for permission before sliding it in. You admired the silver band.

“Maybe. I love it, Seonghwa. I really do.”

“Come here,” he hugged you, swaying you back and forth and you got lost in it until Seonghwa paused. “We might have… an audience.”

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered and he snorted as you broke the hug and looked back at not only Siyeon and Wooyoung but also their mothers and your mother watching you both with silly grins plastered on their faces. You waved at them awkwardly.

“Let’s get inside,” he laughed. “I need some coffee.”

“I’ll be right in after a minute,” you said and he kissed your temple, nodding and going inside. You watched him bark orders to Wooyoung who put him in a chokehold, making everyone laugh. You smiled to yourself- with your loved ones enjoying together, it really couldn’t get any better.

—--------------------

Being with Seonghwa now that you both realised that this was not your first life together was a whole different experience. 

You had never envisioned yourself to be with someone who cared so much about you, for starters. You never thought you could meet someone who would understand you even when you didn’t explain, or know what you wanted even when you were not vocal about it. You sometimes found yourself wondering if he was real and you weren’t dreaming, but he was very real, and he was nothing like you had imagined- in the best way possible.

You had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed living a second life. You spent a lot of days wondering what that meant. You wondered why you remembered it. You would have thought it was insane had you not correlated everything with Seonghwa- who also thought he was going crazy before he talked to you about it that day in your hometown. It was absurd, how you both found each other again, but it was starting to make sense. 

Most of all, you thought about the past. You thought about your life as Persephone- you didn’t have all the memories, of course. Only bits and fragments, and sometimes you’d see a dream that would play out similarly in your present life too. You thought about your mother who still had a similar nature as Demeter, though you were now working out on your differences more. You thought about Hestia and wondered who she was- was she a part of your present life too? She had fulfilled your last wish, after all. You would like to see who she was today, if she was still alive in some sense.

You thought about yourself- the flower goddess who was also the Queen of the Underworld, who could bring the dead to life but also suck the life out of anything alive. You read more about the story on Persephone but found a lot of contradictions and decided to not search anymore, instead letting the truth unfold in your dreams.

You also thought a lot about Hades. Of the cold and mysterious King of the Dead, ruler of the Underworld, who somehow turned out to be the warmest person you knew. He was strong and powerful but he needed you. And that made you feel proud, in a sense. He believed in you and he proved to be right when he thought you could bring life to the Underworld. He loved you like no one else and devoted himself to you.

Perhaps, Seonghwa thought about those things too. He probably did- and you two had made a promise to share whatever dream you’d have of that life, though you found out after a few days that whenever you dreamed, it was together. You couldn’t believe the coincidence and thought you really were meant to be. So you promised instead to not let the events of that life interfere in your present life- after all, that was another time, another world, perhaps. 

That didn’t mean Seonghwa and you didn’t use it to your advantage. You knew what his favourite flowers were, what he liked, how he approached things. He knew that about you too- when to give you space, when to hold you, when to tease you-

“You’re smiling like a fool,” Seonghwa’s lips brushed your ears as he whispered, and you leaned into his touch, digging your feet in the sand as the waves brushed them.

“Just thinking,” you muttered, caressing his arms that were slung around you and shifting in his lap.

“About?”

“Do you wonder where we would be if we didn’t meet each other that day?” You asked, squinting your eyes when the cloud passed by and a ray of sunshine hit the ground.

“Hmm… I do wonder but I get scared at the thought that you could have seriously gotten hurt that day.”

“But I didn’t,” you grinned and he kissed your cheek. 

“We would have met later- it was inevitable if you think about it,” Seonghwa nodded slowly. “We also could have met way before if that fool Wooyoung would have introduced us earlier-”

You laughed. “It’s not his fault. Who would have guessed we could be a thing?”

Seonghwa smiled at that. “Yeah, we have to give him some credit. If we didn’t have a mutual friend, we might not have met after the police station when you came for the witness statement.”

“Well, we might have encountered each other again,” you thought about it. “And we would have texted each other casually or something.”

“True,” Seonghwa nodded. 

“We could have met later, and you could have been dating someone else,” you sighed deeply, making him snicker. “Have you dated before though?”

“It never worked past a few weeks,” he admitted. “I always thought something was missing with the others.”

“But,” you shifted in his lap to face him. “We might have been interested in someone else if it wasn’t for our dreams and coincidences-”

“But that’s not why I was attracted to you now,” he pointed out. “I ignored the dreams- but you look like you’re interested in me because of them,” he narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps you should try dating someone else.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I thought you were hot the minute I saw you. I would have tried to find you one way or another.”

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Is that what you think?”

You nodded eagerly and he laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re too much.”

“Come on,” you poked his chest. “Be candid about this.”

“You want me to be candid about this?” He asked, his gaze changing as he shifted his position, making you lie down on the sand and getting on top of you. He licked his lips as he traced the outline of your face. “I think I would have used any excuse to meet you again- in fact, I knew what I was doing when I got your number the day we met… at least I like to think that I did.”

You laughed at that. “You had no idea back then, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll admit I only got your number because I needed you to come to the station later,” he said. “But… I would have definitely texted you again.”

“So you liked me first, huh?” You teased.

“Well…” he kissed your jaw, letting his lips trail down. “Does it matter?” He kissed your collarbone and you squirmed a bit but he pinned your wrists down and you giggled when the waves crashed and got you wet. “I like where we are now. Do you?”

“Hmm.. kind of, except the sand is getting in my hair,” you sighed loudly and he laughed, kissing your lips. 

“That’s what I like about you,” he shook his head, pecking your lips again. “You’re the most ridiculous and unexpected person in my life.”

“Wow, I’m so flattered,” you pushed him away successfully, kicking his leg before rolling away from him while he grinned. “You’re also the most annoying person in my life. I thought Wooyoung would hold that title forever, but he has some serious competition now.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You love me.”

You stifled your smile. “I do. What about it?”

He matched your gaze for a few seconds before he hid his face in his hands and you laughed, crawling to him. “What’s the matter?”

You knew what was- he was feeling overwhelmed, just like you did whenever he told you that he loved you. You hugged him tight, kissing his temple and making him look at you.

“I love you, Park Seonghwa. Look me in the eyes when I say it.”

He did and then he captured your lips in a heated kiss, making you arch back, continuing to kiss you and tease you as you lay back down and you thought you couldn’t be anywhere else right now. 

He was there, with you, and it felt like you had another eternity to be with him.

#i read lore olympus and saw the vision #this had more slow burn and fluff than i intended buttt here we are #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #ateez x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez headcanons #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #park seonghwa angst #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa scenarios

[wired-heartbeats]

I think self shippers are allowed to have complicated-ass relationships with their F/Os, like yeah we love the lovey-dovey sweet flustering stuff, but also some of us go nuts for a good case of

‘we want to and probably have practically strangled each other but also you’re my soulmate and fate has intrinsically tied us together and I would protect you and fight for you in any given universe but also you’re an actual dumbass and I will tell you so and if we ever go down it’s going to be by the others hand’

Or other related variations, I think it’s great to go hogwild and not all F/O relationships stop at Romantic or Platonic or Familial, the dynamics are endless and can be so fun to play with and navigate

#maybe I’m just really obsessed with the yearning/slow burn/self-fulfilling tragedy/mutual bond for better or for worse #but it really boils down to. there is love there. there has always been love here. and we both have to live with this #also the dynamics you can up with are like. playing 52 card pickup with fanfic tags #it’s FUN and works with most genres of ship situations. angst tragedy comedy romcom enemies to lovers lovers to exs to enemies #it’s also fantastic for aus but also tends to happen with fos you’ve had for a while or that are on the edge of definable #ALSO fos that deal with like the multiverse/multiple timelines !! #cats chatterbox #52 tag pickup seems like a fun self ship ask game but I dunno how it’d work but if someone wants to do that go for it! could be fun ehehehe #self ship #self shipping community #self ship community #self ship stuff #is this anything. do y’all hear me

[carmyboobear]

ALEXITHYMIA CH 3: nightmares, pepto, and fire

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

ao3 link ch 1 ch 2 ch 4

Chapter Rating: M (7.9k)

Chapter Summary: Carmy can't run from how he feels anymore. His dreams, his conversations with his coworkers and friends, everything is forcing him to face reality. Upon being pushed to his limits, he will finally have to start to speak the truth.

content tags: wet dreams, repressed carmy (as per usual), self deprecation, mental illness

A/N: Carmy gets a wet dream AND a nightmare this chapter! I'm putting him through the ringer babes… I had a lot of fun with the drama, interactions, and imagery this time. Also fun fact, this is the end of what I refer to as "Act 1" in my notes! Act 1 consists of repressed Carmy to the max, barely even acknowledging his feelings… but that's gonna change after this chapter :) enjoy!

After a torturous day at work, one that makes his limbs feel like lead, Carmy is more than relieved to see the door to his apartment. 

Surprisingly, though, it swings open without him even touching it. He's too tired to think twice about it. He steps inside, and the first thing he sees is his roommate. They're dressed exclusively in a black apron, just like they were that other night.

“Hi, Carmy,” they say quietly, and their makeup is messy and dark just like that night they were trashed. He remembers how he felt the first time he saw them like that, because he feels it now. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he hears himself saying. 

They walk up to him, and suddenly, they're on top of him. Their hands press gently against his tense shoulders. His back hits his bed, pillows under his neck. 

“You snooped through my stuff, didn't you?” Their hands move behind them to drop their apron, revealing skin, skin, and more skin. It goes on forever. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles half-heartedly, distracted by their nakedness. 

“Hm. I don't think you're all that sorry, but…that's okay.” They drag their hand down the center of his chest, slowly, teasingly, lovingly. “I wanted you to see.”

A bottle of lube materializes in their hand. 

“You did?”

“I did,” they whisper. They uncap the lube with a low pop, and suddenly, their skin is shiny with it. Carmy runs his hand down their chest, squeezing, and it's slippery to the touch. “You wanna see what I like to do with this?”

“Please,” he whispers back, breathless, desperate for it. They smile, and it doesn't quite look like them. Heat circles in his gut nonetheless. 

“You're so sweet,” they say quietly. “I love that about you.”

He can't respond, not with the way they're touching him. Not that he can come up with a response to that. The pleasure is like fire under his skin, hot, alive, and painful.

“Don't say that,” he pleads, and it feels so good. 

“Why not? It's how I really feel about you.”

Their mouth is on his neck now. He can barely breathe. A part of him worries that there's gonna be lipstick marks he'll have to get off again, but he honestly couldn't care less. He'll go to work covered in lipstick marks if he has to. 

“Shut up,” he tries again, but it's even weaker this time. 

I'm gonna end up hurting you, he wants to say, but he can't.

“Don't you like how good I can make you feel?” They lean up to seal their lips against his, and smoke fills his mouth. He takes it in like water. The high hits him immediately, along with the spike in pleasure.

“I'm close,” he whispers, bucking against their hand.

“Me too.” They straddle his waist then, a playful look in their eye. “I know just the thing…”

Just as they go to unbutton his jeans, an alarm screams into his ear, and his eyes fly open to see his bedroom ceiling. 

Stunned, he slams his hand down to shut up his alarm. He lays there in the silence, slowly processing everything. From the moment he woke up, his heart's been racing.

He moves to sit up, get a sip of water, and that's when he feels how sticky his boxers feel. 

“Motherfucker,” he mutters under his breath. He doesn't even have any water on his nightstand, and he just came in his sleep for the first time since highschool. “Shit.”

The shame is too much. He has to sit there for several more minutes in silence before getting himself clean. 

There are no words to express the emotion he feels as he changes his boxers and wipes himself down. It's a strange mixture of guilt, shock, and lingering arousal. He needs to make sure he doesn't think about it at work unless he wants to walk around with an obvious bulge in his pants. 

You need to head into work so you can stop thinking about it, he tells himself, to which he agrees.

He does his best not to think about it on his way to work, which only garners minimal success. In other words, it's a spectacular failure. It's a miracle he doesn't clock in with a poorly concealed boner, but there are other factors. 

For one, his nausea. It crept up on him soon after waking up, and it looks like it's here to stay. It's fine, though, because he's used to his stomach being fucked. His brain is on fire and so is the rest of his body—just as usual. He'll just take some pepto when he gets to work.

Except that when he reaches for it on the bathroom shelf, there is no pepto bottle. That's when he remembers the way he chugged the rest of it the week before. So the nausea remains.

When he arrives, the comments about the lipstick mark being gone is unavoidable. His irritation is also naturally unavoidable. His sour mood does him no favors. However, in a twisted sort of luck, he realizes they're behind on far too many things, and he hones in, focuses on nothing else. Everyone else is too swamped with work to keep up the teasing. 

The lunch rush is expectedly awful, especially with the swelling tensions in the kitchen. Everyone gets through it with minimal screaming. 

Staying busy is supposed to help. Keeping himself occupied is supposed to help, but the moment the lunch rush ends, the nausea hits him at full blast.

“You look like shit,” Richie kindly tells him. A ‘fuck off’ sits on the tip of Carmy's tongue, but so does the feeling of bile, rising in his throat. “Wow, you really are sick, aren't you?” He remarks at Carmy's lack of response. 

In as little words as possible, Carmy relays to everyone he'll be in his office. 

He keeps the lights off and the door cracked as he falls back onto his chair. The world around him seems to settle like sand. It's been a while since he's dealt with nausea this bad. He counts that as a blessing in itself. 

The darkness and the quiet is nice. It relaxes his body. On the flipside, though, there's no noise to overpower the thoughts he's running from. 

He closes his eyes, and he sees imprints of his dream. He feels their mouth on his neck, their voice in his ear, their hand on his—

Carmy slaps a hand on his forehead. Then, he sighs, dragging it slowly down his face. His stomach twists inward into itself. 

He thinks about seeing his reflection in the mirror last night. His skin was free from the lipstick mark that everyone was relentlessly teasing him about. And yet, he was struck with a profound sense of disappointment. 

You liked seeing it there, a voice somewhere hidden in him whispers. 

Carmy really feels like throwing up now. 

He settles in the darkness for a while longer until a notification lights up his screen, briefly illuminating the room with a low white light. 

His first instinct is to groan and flip his phone face down, which he follows about halfway through until he sees the contact name. 

The text message is from the person haunting his dreams and his waking life. 

- hey thinking abt cooking chicken and rice tonite or something. u want some??

Just when he was able to get a break from thinking about them. Just like that, they're orbiting his brain again. 

Visions of them jacking him off aside, he's unsure what to say. He doubts he's gonna be able to get anything down today. This isn't the first time something like this has happened on his end.

> maybe tmrw, stomach is fucked today. ill take leftovers if u make some

- oh no :( feel better man. u got medicine?

> no but its ok, ill take some after work

- but thats so far away!

He can't help but smile, even if looking at the screen isn’t making his nausea any better.

> ill be ok. ill make it

He’ll make it because he has to. No one else is gonna run the place for him. That’s a part of what makes him stand up, take in a breath, and return to the kitchen. The other part is the familiar distant sound of arguing. He slips his phone in his back pocket, stands up, and gets back to work. No matter how begrudgingly it may be.     

A number of problems quickly make themselves clear to him. First, the toilet’s busted again. Two, the plumber won’t be here for another three days. Three, the cash register isn’t working. Four, the meat order got delayed. Carmy doesn’t even wanna start worrying about that last one yet with how awful it’s gonna be.

“When is Fak gonna get here?” Carmy asks Richie. They’re stationed at the front, taking the lack of customers while they can.

“He said he'd be here soon.” Richie's fucking with the aforementioned cash register. Carmy’s leaning against the counter, watching him aggressively jam receipt paper into the machine out of the corner of his eye. It's refusing to print receipts again. “He said to tell you to not get your hopes up. He's not a plumber.”

“I know, but he's got the best chance of fixing the thing.”

“I'm telling ya, if you just let me fuck around with it—”

“You don't know how to fix a toilet by watching youtube tutorials,” Carmy mutters.

“So you wanna have to keep going across the street to take a piss?”

“Cousin—this is my restaurant, not your goddamn apartment—”

“Alright, then be my fuckin’ guest—”

He's so in the middle of arguing that he doesn't even hear the bell on the door ring when it opens. 

“Look, Fak's gonna be here in a couple minutes,” Carmy says, pinching his eyebrows together, “and then you can fight it out like alphas or whatever the fuck you were saying. Okay? God—”

When he straightens up, pushing himself off the counter and turning back towards the front, the last person he expected to see stands right in front of him.

They've got this bashful smile on their face, and their cheeks are flushed from the cold. Their hair sticks out from their beanie in a way that Carmy insists is not cute at all. Not one bit, not even the way it's messy when they yank it off. 

He also insists to himself that the color on their cheeks doesn't remind him of his dream. Not at all. Not even a little bit. No way. No matter how much the visuals are rampaging in his brain. 

“I was sorta worried I wasn't in the right place,” they admit. 

“What're you doing here?” Carmy blurts out, even though he immediately recognizes it for how rude it is. 

“Uh—” Nerves flash across their face. They hold up a little paper bag. “Sorry for just showing up, I just wanted to bring you some things.”

“No—don't apologize, I shouldn't have just…” He trails off, unable to find the words. He studies the bag in their hand. “Sorry. What did you bring?” He asks, softer this time. 

“I know this might be a bit much,” they clarify nervously. They walk up the counter and set the bag down before him. “It's just, you were saying that you weren't feeling well, and I was in the area doing some shopping…”

Carmy reaches inside and pulls out several things. The items reveal themselves to be a small, green bottle of papaya pills, a little bag of ginger candies, and most importantly, a bottle of bubblegum pink pepto bismol.

As he stares at the items, a tiny flower blossoms in his chest.

“You really didn't have to get all this,” he says softly after a beat of silence. He stares at the items for a moment longer before looking up at them. There's an odd feeling in his chest. 

“I wanted to. Seriously.” They still look oddly bashful, and it's captivating. “I mean, you helped me out a ton the other night, so…”

“You didn't owe me anything.” 

“Then consider it a gift.” Their smile so effortlessly dazzles him. “Unless I can't give you gifts?”

“Yeah—I mean, no, you—” Carmy fails to stifle a quiet laugh at how ridiculous he sounds. They so easily fluster him. “Thank you,” he says finally, remembering himself. “This is…really nice.”

“I hope it helps,” they reply, and he tells himself the color on their cheeks is still from the cold. He tells himself that they're the one that looked into his eyes first, so it's okay for him to look back. “If you end up not liking it or needing it, though, it’s fine. Do whatever you want with it.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you,” he says again. 

They're beautiful, he thinks all of a sudden, and the thought is so potent he can't hide from it for a single second. His anxiety tells him that they're gonna hear his thoughts if he keeps thinking so loudly. The bliss of tracing his eyes over their features is worth it. He's not sure if he feels any less nauseous, staring at their darling face like this, but he can't deny he likes the way this feels. His chest aches.

Then, the obnoxious noise of someone clearing their throat reminds him that they're not alone. 

“Cousin.” Carmy's head whips around. How could he forget that Richie was right there? It's incredible how silent Richie could be when he wants to. “You gonna introduce us?”

“Shit, right, uh—” Carmy fumbles, making a hand motion with no words to match. “This is my cousin Richie. And Richie, this is, uh, my roommate.”

Oh, how he's dreaded saying those words for reasons he will see in just a matter of seconds. 

“So you're the roommate!” Richie makes a big show of it, eyebrows raised in dramatic shock. 

“Yeah, that's me.” They shrug. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise. Can't believe you're roomin’ with this guy,” Richie says, slapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder. It is promptly shoved off. “Carmen's not an easy guy to be around, I know.”

“Oh, not at all! He's a great roommate.” Carmy feels the tips of his ears growing warm. 

“Really?” Richie gives him a skeptical look. “Who would've guessed.”

“Fuck off,” Carmy snaps, but the way he mumbles makes it lack any intensity. 

They don’t stay for long. Something about needing to run some more errands. A part of Carmy wants to keep them there somehow, although there’s no logical reason for that. If anything, the faster they’re out, the better. It gives Richie less time to say something scathing that ruins their perception of Carmy. 

Not that you need any help fucking yourself over, Carmy thinks to himself distantly. 

“Well, I hope the stuff helps.” They readjust their beanie on their head, pulling it over their ears. “I’ll see you at home?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” he replies. “Thanks again.” 

“No problem. Bye!”

They wave to him and Richie as they leave. As soon as the bell above the door rings and they’re out of sight, Carmy feels Richie’s eyes on him. 

Actually, he feels a number of eyes on him. 

He turns around to see his fellow chefs peeking over the deli counter, standing in a row like a line of matryoshka dolls. They freeze when they see him, but they don’t make any move to run away. Absolutely remorseless. 

“Back to your stations, chefs,” Carmy scolds them, but his meak words are quickly overtaken by noise. 

“If the two of you aren’t dating, then what the fuck is this?” Richie picks up the paper bag full of medicine. “That was some sappy shit the two of you were pulling!”

“The two of you? What the fuck did I do?” Carmy spits back. 

“What the fuck did I do,” Richie imitates, rolling his eyes. “Fuckin’ goo-goo eyes over here wants to know what the fuck he was doing.” Carmy snatches the bag out of his hand.

“You were makin’ goo-goo eyes at them,” Marcus agrees. His elbows are propped up on the glass counter. 

“And if they’re bringing you medicine, it’s serious,” Tina adds with a sly grin. 

“There’s nothing to be serious about,” Carmy insists. He feels like a broken record. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends that kiss each other,” Sydney comments. “Right. Of course.” 

“We don’t—I’ve never—” He’s a tea kettle, and the lid on him is starting to rattle. “Chefs—”

“Cousin, loosen up already. Why you always gotta make shit so serious?” Richie throws an arm around his shoulder, but Carmy shoves it off. 

“Because this shit is none of your fuckin’ business. That goes for all of you!” Carmy whips around, gesturing accusingly with his hand at the line of chefs. “Get back to work! Now!”

A sad chorus of “Yes, chef” resounds, and everyone despondently trickles back to their stations. All except for Richie, who is not a chef. 

“They’re obviously into you,” Richie tries, and Carmy’s glare could burn two perfect circles into his face. 

“Drop it,” he hisses. 

“Why’re you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like a little bitch? You’re a pussy, Carmen. That’s what you are. A pussy—”

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“No. Y’know what? I actually do have a clue, because I know you, Berzatto. You act like all that shit’s above you, but it’s not. And I’m tryin’ to do you a favor—”

“A favor? What fucking favor?” 

“I’m trying to help you get a fucking clue! That’s what! Because you’re too dense to see what’s right in front of you!”

“Richie, I happen to be doing just fine without your help. I don’t need whatever the fuck you think helping me is!”

“Then explain this to me. Explain this little thing to me, Carmen fucking Berzatto. You and Claire—”

“Richie. Don’t.”

“That could’ve been a good thing. A great thing. The two of you—”

“I told you—”

“You were obviously into each other, and yet—”

���Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!” 

There’s a rage threatening to spew out of him, lava coursing under his skin and in his head. Richie’s looking at him like he knows he’s right, but he’s not. He’s not right about Carmy. He’s not right about anything. Not about any of this. 

“Fak is on the scene! What is up, guys?” 

With comedic (or arguably tragic) timing, Fak bursts through the front door with his heavy tool bag on one hand. Carmy and Richie’s heads both snap to him when he arrives. Fak freezes in his steps. 

“Fak,” Carmy says. 

“Finally,” Richie mutters. “Slow ass.” 

“Uh…I’m getting the impression I shouldn’t be here right now. Should I be here right now?” Fak takes a step back towards the door. 

“Yes, I really need you to look at the toilet,” Carmy says. Richie is uncharacteristically quiet, but Carmy can’t stand to look at him. 

“If you say so.” Fak shrugs. “What’s the damage?” 

“Mild to severe, depending on how you look at it,” is Carmy’s dry response. 

The rest of the day, Carmy operates on autopilot. When he finally remembers to open the bottle of pepto, nausea surges in him at the sight of it. He manages to force it down. Miraculously, the toilet gets fixed, and even more miraculously, no one mentions the roommate again. Not even Richie. Although Carmy does sense how badly he wants to bring it up again. 

His stomach continues its incessant rampage throughout the rest of the day. Despite improving since the pepto, it’s still generally upset. This nausea leads him back to his care package again and again throughout the rest of the day. 

The ginger candies have a sharp flavor, maybe even a bit too much, but the sharpness grounds him. It also does admittedly dim the nausea. He wonders why he’s never bothered to keep him on his person. 

“Chef?” Carmy’s cleaning his station when he hears Syd next to him. It could only be her, anyway—the sun has set, and everyone else has gone home for the day. He perks his head up to see her concerned expression. 

“Chef,” he acknowledges back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “Nothing wrong with me, I mean. I was actually wondering if, uh, you were okay?”

“Me?” The question surprises him. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Stomach’s better, so…”

“Oh, good.” She nods. “Stuff your roommate gave you working?”

“Yeah. It is.” He rolls the candy around on his tongue. “Hand me my knife?”

“Yeah.” She slides it over to him. “And, uh, I just wanted to say—I don’t mean to be nosy. I really don’t. Earlier, everyone was just gathered over the counter, and—”

“It’s fine.”

“I just wanted to see what the commotion was about—”

“Really, it’s fine,” he repeats, firmly. “They’re just like that, anyway.”

“I—Okay. Okay.” She exhales. “It’s just—y’know. I don’t wanna be an ass. I just…”

“You weren’t. You’re not.”

“I’m just…wondering about one thing.”

“...Yeah?”

“Why have you never invited them to family?”

“Family?” This question surprises him even more than the last. “Well, family’s for…family. Just the workers.”

“I mean, yeah. But, like, sometimes it’s not, right? Like, you let Marcus’ roommate come last week.”

“Marcus was on family anyway.”

“Sure. Right. You let me bring my friend recently, though.”

“You wanted to show her where you worked, didn’t you?” 

“And Fak has family with us almost, like, all the time.”

“Fak is Fak,” Carmy reasons, and Sydney can’t argue with that. 

“I don’t mean to be an ass,” she repeats. “I’m just curious.”

Right, he thinks. She asked a question. Why have I never brought them to family?

He’s never even considered it before. Bringing them to family. It’s not a habit to bring outsiders in, for lack of better wording, but it’s not necessarily off-limits, either. He doesn’t actually  mind when others bring people in. He trusts them not to bring in anyone stupid. Mostly. As for himself…

He’s never had anyone in his life to bring before. Ever. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I guess I just never thought about it.”

“Huh.”

“Wouldn’t it be…weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know,” he says again, “I just…I just thought…” He sighs. “I didn’t wanna deal with Richie, but…”

“Little too late for that,” Sydney notes in amusement. 

“Little too late,” he echoes. 

“Well. I was just curious. Sorry if that was weird.”

“Why would it be weird?” He jokes, imitating her from earlier. 

“Shut up,” she shoots back with a grin. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s fine. It’s not weird.” He pauses for a moment, thinking about Richie. “Everyone else is an ass about it. Not you, though.”

“I try.” She grins. “I…I think everyone just gets excited because…it’s different. Seeing you with someone else like that.”

“Mm.” Carmy nods, and then pauses again. Lets it sink in. “Do I…” I shouldn’t ask this, he thinks, but he’s already started. It’s too late. “...Do I act differently?”

“Around them? Yeah. A little.”

“...” Carmy straightens up, taking a step back from his station. This is starting to feel weird. Really weird. “I do?”

“Kinda. You just seem…calmer, I think.” Sydney’s expression seems uncomfortable. “I dunno.”

“No, it’s fine. It was a dumb thing to ask.” Carmy’s making the executive decision to stop talking about this. “I gotta stay and sort through some stuff in the office, but you should head out for the night.”

“What, can’t afford to pay me overtime?” Sydney teases. Carmy rolls his eyes. 

“Partially,” he jokes back, although it’s not much of a joke. 

Nevertheless, it is almost 10 pm, so Sydney does indeed head out for the night. The whole place is eerily silent without anyone else there. There’s the sound of the rattling AC unit, noisy plumbing, and passing cars, but there’s a distinct lack of sizzling pans, knives against cutting boards, and shouting. It just feels strange, is all. 

Carmy barely remembers to replace the bottle of pepto in the bathroom before heading out. He puts the new bottle there on the shelf, and as he stares at it standing there, he considers putting other gifts there too. 

He returns to his office where the small bag of ginger candies and bottle of papaya pills sits. They’re seated on the corner of his desk. He goes to grab them, but for some reason, he doesn’t. They look like they belong there. 

Then consider it a gift, he remembers them saying earlier. Unless I can’t give you gifts? If you end up not liking it or needing it, though, it’s fine. Do whatever you want with it, he hears them saying again.

A certain possessiveness grips him then.

It was a gift, he tells himself. For me. No one else.

He decides to leave the candies and pills on his desk. Those will be just for him. 

When he finally gets home, it’s almost 12 am. He does his best to open the door carefully, but it’s as squeaky as ever. 

He’s greeted with a surprising, although not unusual sight. His roommate is curled up into a sleep ball on the couch, snuggled into the pillows and blankets. The tv is playing some youtube video essay about lost media from the early 2000s. All the lights in the apartment are off, leaving the only source of illumination to be the tv screen. 

Carmy carefully moves to turn the tv off. After he does, he turns to see if he’s woken them up. He hasn’t. They’re still in deep sleep. Very deep sleep, rather, with how they’re lightly snoring.  

That familiar ache he gets in his chest when he sees them makes itself known. It’s the ache that pulls him in, forcing him to sit on the floor next to the couch. It’s something beyond his will that makes him gaze at their peacefully sleeping face. 

His eyes trace their features like he was earlier when they stopped by The Beef, except this time, much more unabashedly. He takes note of the faint blemishes on their cheeks, the loose strands of hair in their face. The squish of their cheek against the pillows. 

Cute, he thinks to himself, not for the first time, and he’s too tired to push the feeling away. 

You’re different around them, he hears Sydney saying. Calmer.

I don’t know about that, he thinks. He absentmindedly brings a hand to brush their loose hairs out of their face. I don’t know how I feel when I’m around you. 

A part of him wonders if he should wake them up. The part of him that wins is the part that doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful look on their face. He wouldn’t want to upset them. 

He trudges into his bed instead, flopping wearily onto his mattress. It’s been a taxing day, right down to the moment he woke up this morning. His mind and body were both in shambles, and now, he’s exhausted.  

As he falls asleep, he distantly hopes for a dreamless night. 

. . . . .

“Where’s the olive oil? The pan’s heated. I need to start cooking the beef.”

Carmy stands before a pristine stainless steel pan. Next to him on the counter sits stuffed beef carefully wrapped in twine—beef braciole. 

“Guys,” he repeats, annoyed. “Guys, have you seen the olive oil?”

He turns to see Michael and his roommate sitting at a kitchen island. They’re both opening cans of San Marzano tomatoes, although it’s definitely not a two person job. 

“We haven’t seen it, Carmen,” Michael says. “Anyway, like I was saying—you should’ve seen his face. Really! When I told him I couldn’t work at the restaurant, it’s like I told him our dog died or something.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see that,” his roommate remarks, snickering and shaking their head. “Such a baby.”

Next to them, Carmy spots the bottle of olive oil. With a scowl, he snatches it. 

“Hurry up on those tomatoes, guys, I’m gonna need it real soon,” he reminds them, irritation growing. 

With the bottom of the pan coated in olive oil, he carefully places the beef into the pan. The sizzle is strangely whistle-like and high pitched. He inhales, searching for the smell of cooking meat and garlic, but he can’t seem to smell anything at all. 

“Did he cry?” They ask. 

“No, but he looked like he was going to,” Michael sneers, and the two of them are laughing again. 

“You wouldn’t wanna work with a guy like Carmy, anyway.”

“Exactly. Exactly. He doesn’t really get it, y’know. How much of a colossal fuck-up he is. I can see it in him, though. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then.”

“That’s okay. I don’t blame you. He probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

“He has no idea! And he thinks he’s fooling everyone so well, but the thing is—”

“He’s not.”

“He’s not! He’s really not.”

“Chefs, I need the tomato puree. Hand it over,” Carmy interrupts abruptly. When there’s no response, he turns around. They haven’t even opened one can of tomatoes yet. “Are you two fucking serious?”

They look at him, eyes wide, and then they’re laughing so hard they’re crying. They’re doubled over the counter, cackling and kicking their feet. 

“You’re too easy to fuck with, Carmen,” Michael gets out between chuckles. “You’ve always been like that.”

Carmy ignores him and reaches for a can of tomatoes. 

“Give me the fucking can opener,” Carmy snaps.

“Oh, you won’t need it,” his roommate answers.

As soon as Carmy grabs a can, it explodes in his face.

Puréed San Marzano tomatoes fill his hand and drip from his hair into his eyes. He steps back, staggered from the red explosion. Somehow it got all over him and  not on anything else.

“Fucking shit!” He wipes his eyes, and that’s when he remembers the beef. He rushes back to the pan. It needs tomato purée now. He lets the splattered tomato drip from his hands into the pan, filling it with sauce. It sizzles and smells like smoke.

“I could always see you for who you really were, y’know. I always knew,” Michael goes on. “I could always see it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Carmy snaps. The growing anxiety in his stomach is tightening his body and ejecting the words out. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s saying that you’re just not a good person. That’s all,” his roommate reasons. Carmy tries to keep his eyes focused on the beef, hastily spooning tomato over it. The pan’s still filling with puree. It’s overflowing. “You’re just the sort of person who will never change. Once broken, always broken, y’know what I mean?”

“If you’re not going to help, then fucking leave!” Carmy snaps, finally. He whirls around and wipes all the cans onto the floor. They explode in glorious unison, staining the floors red. “Just get out and stop getting in my fucking way!”

“But you don’t want me to leave, do you?”

“I don’t care what you do, I just need to finish this—“

“No, you care. You care if I like or hate you. You care if I stay or leave. You care about me, Carmy. You really care about me.”

“I don’t fucking care about you. I never have, and I never will.”

The beef’s burning on the pan. It’s all burning.

“Oh, Carmy…” Their arms are wrapped around his torso, squeezing him in a gentle hug. “It’s too late for you to say that sort of thing. Not anymore.”

All of a sudden, there’s a gush of wetness that soaks through his shirt. He pulls back, and their mouth is oozing tomato puree. In an instant, Carmy knows they’re dying.

“Fuck,” Carmy curses. “Fuck!”

“This is what happens,” they say, gargling through mouthfuls of puree.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because it’s you,” they answer, and Carmy wakes up.

He wakes up stumbling back from the stove by someone pulling on his shirt. The stove has pots and pans filled with flaming frozen food. He can feel the blazing heat against his skin. The orange flames are flicking off the steel pans and arch towards the ceiling, reaching. As Carmy stumbles back, he falls to the floor, barely managing to steady himself with the palms of his hands.

There’s the familiar sound of the fire extinguisher, spraying out into the base of the fire. Propped up on his elbows, Carmy watches the fire shrink with a thumping heart. His heartbeat marches in time with the tune of the fire alarm, piercing and high-pitched throughout the apartment. 

Carmy finally takes notes of his roommate, looking about as distressed as someone who just woke up to a fire in their own home. Their hair sticks up in several different directions as if they just woke up, which they…probably did. With a displeased grunt, they march over to the window to slam it open. The cloudy smoke compacted near the ceiling begins to trickle out. 

“Fucking hell,” they mutter under their breath, coughing from the smoke. They turn around to look at Carmy, expression twisted with stress. “Dude. What was that?”

“I,” Carmy starts, but the words just won’t come. He tries to move to get up, but his legs aren’t moving. 

“Carmy. Hey.” They lean down next to him, staring him in the eyes. He still doesn’t respond. “Carmen!” They snap, and he jolts. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he gets out. They help him up, wrapping his hand in theirs and yanking him upwards. 

“We should step outside while the smoke clears.” They cough as they move to grab their coat. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be gone in a couple minutes,” Carmy hears himself saying. He’s met with a blank stare. 

“So this has happened to you before?” They open their mouth, as if they’re about to say something else, but they shake their head. “No, we’re not staying in here. We may smoke everyday, but this isn’t good for us. C’mon.” 

He doesn’t quite feel his body moving as he grabs his wool jacket. He doesn’t feel it as he walks down the stairs, not even when he steps outside and the chilled night air whips at his face. He feels far, far away. 

After leaving the awful song of the fire alarm, the quiet of the night is uncharacteristically loud. If he listens closely, though, he can pick out the sound of their fire alarm, distantly ringing. Or maybe that’s just his tinnitus. 

The clicking sound of a lighter is what recenters him. He looks to his side to see them shakily holding a lighter up to their cigarette. After a couple more sparks, the flame lights.

They take a slow pull of it before wordlessly handing it to him. An olive branch of sorts. He takes it. They let the pool of smoke sit in their mouth, and then they exhale with a heavy, heavy sigh. 

“What happened back there, man?” They ask quietly. “That was…” They sigh again. “That scared the shit out of me,” they whisper, and that’s what makes it all finally settle in. 

Fuck, Carmy realizes with a pang. The realization starts in the pit of his stomach and drops lower and lower. Feeling returns to his body, and he feels cold inside and out. I really fucked up.

He can just imagine it—him, dead on his feet, sleepwalking into the kitchen. Grabbing the frozen food out of the freezer and turning the stove on high. Cooking nonsensically with plastic-wrapped chicken breasts and frozen peas. Too fucking asleep to stop the fire from starting, to stop the fire alarm that woke up his sleeping roommate on the couch.

“I used to sleepwalk, sometimes. When I was at culinary school,” he clarifies nervously. Shame douses him, coating him evenly like oil on a pan. “Or, sleepcook, I guess.”

He passes the cigarette back to them. They take it. 

“Shit,” they mutter. “Never heard of anyone doin’ that before.” 

“...Yeah. Me neither.”

The two of them are silent for a while before they speak again. 

“Carmy—why didn’t you tell me? That you—” They laugh dryly, full of irritation. He doesn’t like seeing anger on their face, hearing it in their voice. He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard them sound like this before. “That you’re prone to cooking in your sleep? Don’t you think that’s something I should know? As your roommate?”

“I—I didn’t mean to hide it,” he protests, even though he did.

“We could’ve really gotten hurt, y’know.”

“You’re right, I know, it’s just—it hadn’t happened in so long, so I just thought that I had, that I was…”

I thought I was getting better, he wants to say, but it’s stuck in his throat. It won’t come out. As per usual, he can’t get the words out. 

It always stays the same. 

“...” Strangely enough, their face  softens. “Must’ve been scary the first time.”

“What?” He wasn’t expecting their anger to dissipate so easily.

“The first time you caught yourself cooking your sleep. Were they all like this? With the fire and stuff?”

“Yeah. All the fire and stuff,” he confirms bitterly. A beat of silence. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. You shouldn’t have had to…put out a fire I made.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay you almost burned our place down, but…” The end of the cigarette sizzles, bright and orange as they inhale. “It’s not like you did it on purpose, did you?” 

“Of course not,” he rushes to say, “I would never—”

“I’m just kidding with you,” they laugh. They exchange the cigarette again. “I know you didn’t.”

Impossible, Carmy thinks all of a sudden. The nicotine usually calms him, except not today. Not right now. This is impossible.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Carmy blurts out. He can’t compute seeing a smile on their face right now. 

“I am,” they say calmly. 

“Then why? Why are you—” There’s static in his head, fuzz filling his mouth. “Why aren’t you—you should be—fucking, I don’t know—why aren’t you yelling?”

“Do you want me to be shouting at you?” 

“No! I don’t want that, I just—I just don’t understand.” There’s blood rushing in his ears. “I fucked up, so just—just get it over with already!” 

“I—get what over with?”

“Just tell me that I’m a worthless piece of shit and that you were wrong for ever seeing anything good in me,” he spits out. His eyes feel hot. He doesn’t know where all these words are coming from. “I know you want to say it, so just get it over with. Please.”

A moment of silence, broken by the drive by of a car.

“...Is that really how you think I see you?”

“How could you not?” He laughs bitterly, shakes his head. Images of Michael flash in his head. “I’ve just somehow managed to convince you that I’m worth your time. I don’t know how, but…” Frustration surges inside of him. “But now you know,” he says, finally. 

So this is how it ends, he thinks to himself. I knew it couldn’t last. Nothing ever lasts. 

We’ll call it The Bear, he hears himself saying. Michael and him at Christmas. The drawing he made of the restaurant. 

Michael’s dead, he hears Sugar sobbing over the phone. Her voice is crackly and broken through the speakers. Please come home. Please.

You didn’t even show up for your brother fuckin’ funeral, he hears Richie screaming. Your own fucking brother, Carmen! What the ever living fuck is wrong with you?

This is great, Carmy, Michael says softly to him, the gifted drawing of their restaurant in his hands. The house is on fire. There's so much fire. Thank you.

They don’t say anything for a while, opting to instead smoke their cigarette and stare distantly across the street. When they finally turn to look at him, their gaze pierces him. It’s that look that strips him bare, lays his soul out open for them to pick apart. 

“You’re allowed to mess up on onions,” they say. 

“...What?” Is all he can think to reply. 

“When I was drunk, you told me about how you dropped some onions.”

“No, I remember, I just—why are you saying that now?”

“Because this fire is the same.” They tap the ash off their cigarette, the gray dust shattering in the wind. “People make mistakes, Carmy. It’s okay.”

“This is a lot worse than spilling some onions,” he reasons weakly. They just shrug. 

“Objectively speaking, sure. I can’t deny that. But that’s not really what I’m trying to say…” They hesitate. “Can I speak plainly?”

“Please,” Carmy begs. 

Two cars whiz by before they speak again. 

“I can’t change how you see yourself,” they start. “I’m the same way. I think almost everyone is. I know I can’t make you less hard on yourself. If anything, that’s part of what made you into such an incredible chef.” They exhale shakily. “But this…with me…I don’t want it to push me away.”

“...I don’t want you to get hurt,” he confesses, messily. This isn’t like him, but he can’t seem to stop talking. I care about you too much, he thinks painfully.  

“It’s impossible to go through life without hurting others. Look—I consider you a friend, Carmy. A good friend. And I thought you felt the same, but…”

“I do,” he interrupts urgently. “You’re one of the closest friends I have,” he confesses, and their smile is beautiful. 

…I didn’t mean to say all that, he thinks, startled by himself. That was supposed to be, “I think of you as a friend, too.” 

“Then fuck up some onions. You don’t have to be a perfect person. No one can be, and I don’t want you to be. Besides—I’m not stupid. You’re not tricking me about anything. I’m pretty good at making sound judgments of people.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were stupid,” he says quietly. 

“I know you didn’t.” They keep being gentle, so gentle. 

“I…I’m not used to this,” he admits, finally. He needs to be honest with them, regardless if saying the truth is  like coughing up glass. “You're a good person. Really good. More than I'm used to, to be honest. I think…I think a part of me doesn't wanna believe it.”

“Oh.” Their pink cheeks could very well be from the cold, or from something else. “I—well. Thank you. That's nice to hear. But, ah, do you think I have some dark alter ego or something?”

“No, not like that. It’s just—there’s always another shoe, isn’t there?”

“Another shoe…” They hum. “Yeah. Unless there isn’t.”

“That’d be a first,” he says, and they laugh. 

“True enough.” The distant sound of the train. “I'm not a perfect person, Carmy.”

“I know. I don't expect that.”

“Then stop expecting it from yourself.”

“...” He blinks, staggered by their bluntness. A million arguments begin and die on the tip of his tongue, but all of them feel as cheap as the last. He knows they're right, and there's not much room for argument there. “I'll try,” he says finally with a nod. It's all he can say.

“I say it like it's an easy thing to do. I know it's not.” Their smile is knowing, rueful. “I certainly haven't gotten over it myself.”

“You also…?” The implication lays silent in the air. They nod. “I’m sorry for starting a fire,” he apologizes again, because he feels like he has to. “And for…freaking out.”

“You are forgiven. But you don’t need to apologize for, like, having emotions. That’s fucked up.” They let out an abrupt bark of a laugh, and it makes him laugh, too. “Is it, like, a stress thing? The sleepcooking?”

You’re worthless, he suddenly hears a familiar voice saying. The head chef. You’d be better off dead. You don't deserve any of this.

“Usually,” he says simply. “I can’t really…predict when it’s gonna happen, though.”

“Unfortunate. I guess it’d be too easy if you could see it coming.” They put out their cigarette on the back of their lighter, flicking off the ash. “How are you doing now?”

“I’m fine,” he responds  instantly, all on instinct. “I’m…better,” he amends, and they look happy with that. “I should be asking you that. Are you alright?”

“Not gonna lie, it was pretty scary, but I’m okay. I can look back at it as a bonding experience.”

“A bonding experience,” Carmy mutters, half out of amusement and half out of disbelief. “I guess you’re not totally wrong.”

“Nobody got hurt, right? And next time, I'll be ready.”

“There shouldn't be a next time.”

“No, I suppose not. But there might be, and that's okay.”

“But—“ He stops. “I'm sorry.”

“I know.” They pat his back. 

“Do you wanna come to family tomorrow?” He blurts out. 

“Huh?” They say, which is a pretty reasonable response. “I mean, probably. What is it?”

“Right, sorry. It's, uh, a thing we do everyday at work. One of the chefs cooks dinner for everyone, and we eat together. It's a way to, ah…have everyone get along, I guess.”

“Oh, cool!”

“And I'll be the one cooking tomorrow,” he adds hastily. God, why is this so embarrassing? “So. Yeah. If you wanna come, then…”

“You mean I get to have your cooking? Of course I wanna come,” they reply, their expression brightening. Carmy's stomach twists inward, giddy. “Oh my god, yeah. As long as it's not weird that I'm there?”

“Not weird,” he promises. “We bring people all the time. Not too many, of course.”

Except for me, he thinks. I barely even eat family enough as it is, let alone ever bringing everyone. You're the only one.

“Okay. Okay!” They make a pleased noise, stepping excitedly in place. “Then I accept. What time should I come?”

“We eat before opening, so come in around 2. The door should be open.”

“Sounds good.” They stop then, fixing him with a puzzled, amused look. “You're not just doing this because of what just happened, are you? Although I guess it'd be cool if you were—”

“I'm not, I'm not. I just…wanted to.” He's not being very convincing. To be fair, it's only half of a lie. “But I will. Make this up to you, I mean.”

“I'm just teasing. You don’t have to, but I won’t stop you. And…thanks for inviting me, I'm looking forward to it.” They yawn suddenly, eyes scrunching shut. “Think we're good to head back in now?”

“Probably, yeah.” He checks his phone. It's 1 AM. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

“It's fine, really. Besides, I did this to you the other night. And, uh—Carmy?”

“...Yeah?”

“I'm really glad you think of me as a friend,” they say, and it sounds like a confession. “I feel super lucky to have a roommate that I can call my friend, too. I…just wanted to say that. 

There are countless unspoken sentiments that Carmy wishes he had the courage, the faith to say. I didn't know how important you were going to become to me, for instance. I don't know if I can go without your company anymore. I’m not sure if I've ever liked someone so much, and that terrifies me. I never wanted to admit how much I like you.

It's too much, far too much to say aloud, but at least, finally, he can admit it to himself.

It does not always have to stay the same.

“I feel really lucky, too,” Carmy says instead, and the words come easy, easier than they ever have before.

~

@zorrasucia

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #others #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #my writing #my fics #i had this ready for the past week and i just kept forgetting to post it. that happens when u have a job lmfao #anywayyyy like i said its the end of act 1!!! carmy is gonna be happier and more open with them from here on out... at least he's gonna try #slow progress is still progress! THE SLOW BURN IS SLOW BURNING ALL OVER THE PLACE #rly excited to play arnd with these guys more... any thoughts are appreciated + thanks SO MUCH for the kind words and reads so far!! #Alexithymia fic

[kopykunoichi]

No thoughts in my head, just them.

Left column: chapters 47, 62, 98

Center column: chapters 137, 175, 175

Right column: chapters 201, 225, 225

#akatsuki no yona #yona of the dawn #son hak #princess yona #yonak #don't mind me - just resurfacing after re-reading my favorite manga to leave this here #evolution of a kiss #slowest slow burn in history #but it's so worth it #the kiss where she was passing water into his mouth because of the smoke is still my favorite #hak was THIRSTY and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the building was on fire #is it a cliché trope? yes it is. do i care? no i do not. #it works on me every damn time #also...it's been 27 chapters since these two made out...which far too long #literally it's been a year and a half... #also it will never not amuse me that she was the first one to kiss him on the lips #he was working his way down from her forehead to the bridge of her nose to her cheek... #and the next time they kiss she just grabs him and assaults his mouth #technically she also initiated the second “kiss” on the lips when she chose that method to give him water #get it girl

[lo-fi-charming]

like... daisy ending up in the coffin is significant. it's not just to be ironic. it being her "first encounter" with the entities after becoming an officer is significant. the fact her former partner - someone whose apathy and brutality as an officer she understood and sympathized with - is taken into the coffin isn't just scary because it could have been her, but because they end up in there for the same reasons. it's about the crushing, inescapable weight of what she's done, knows is unfair and awful, but does anyway.

daisy doesn't realize what she's been doing for most of her life is wrong just because she gets trapped in the buried; it isn't, like, detoxed out of her, affording her Sudden Clarity. and it isn't that she's forced to change, either. that she's made to suffer long enough that ~moral goodness~ manifests, as if that's how you become a better person, you just have to get what you deserve enough... the buried didn't MAKE daisy "good" or "regret" what she'd done - it's just that everything finally caught up to her. daisy was already afraid of herself and the things she'd done. she's been afraid at least since the first time she saw the coffin.

the buried is a fear that can represent the feeling of being trapped under so much Something that there is no way you can ever see yourself escaping it. the things daisy has done throughout her life are not done without consequence. in the past, she was always able to outrun it for this or that reason: luck, cleverness, a system that protected her, a partner that enabled her, etc. but it meant daisy had to keep running. keep feeding it and keep killing. keep digging the hole. nothing forced her to do it; you can argue quite a lot of things encouraged her behavior, but daisy admits it herself: she liked it. she was good at it. it's always been a part of her and that's what's scary.

and even when daisy gets rescued and is out of the coffin, is she? the weight is still there. she's still being crushed by it and there's still nothing she can do to escape it. the only difference between then and now is that daisy refuses to try running from it.

#endlesschatter #daisy tonner #sorryyy sorry i had to get some more words out #real talk i myself for a while did not really consider the obvious significance of daisy in the coffin for a long time #if only bc my realization that she's my fave tma char was kind of a slow burn #so i didn't think about it v deeply for a while... #but i feel like it is. something that's not often discussed #as... with most things... concerning daisy. imo imo #i get it but unfortunately she is my favorite so im terminally underfed and constantly musing #...there's something to be said about the similarities of the hunt and the buried. somewhere in here #it plays nicely into daisy being a hunt avatar who falls to the buried

[cassiopeiacorvus]

Playchoices MCs - Part 9

Previous | Next

artist notes under the cut

Oh... has it been two years since my last Choices MCs picture... oops.

Keziah Carver (SB) | The eldest child in my AME/PTR/SB sibling trio. The most well-adjusted and long-suffering of the bunch.

Quincy Young (LOA) | He fights for the little guy and will take any excuse to ruin shitty employers.

Satoshi Shima (SW) | He's very into science. He and Manu (who I renamed Kiri) stay as friends and meet up occasionally so he can gush about ecology and she can gush about the last adventure she went on.

Zaïre Esparza (WTD) | She carries that axe everywhere, even in the most awkward of situations. It's best to always be prepared for surprise zombies.

Neda Norton (SR) | She could've been a domme from the start! 😭 She had the range! I switched out another skirt for pants because dammit, she deserves it.

Ira Hardwicke (COP) | I changed their default last name cause the Thorne/Rose thing made me want to throw up. They're also not in a relationship with Trystan cause I liked their dynamic before they started dating. Ira lives exclusively off of coffee and sandwiches from the bodega near their uncle's bar.

#playchoices #slow burn #laws of attraction #shipwrecked #wake the dead #surrender #crimes of passion #cassiopeiacorvus draws #cassi originals #i had this sketched out ages ago #but kept going back and forth on whether or not i hated it #but i pushed through #so here y'all go #i would've written more about this batch #but my brain is shot #so this is what y'all get

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing’s Wrong with Dale - Part Seven

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself. 

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 7

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] Part Seven [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

“The clothiers have arrived and they’ve finished setting up.”

You set down the book you were reading, a history of Northridge lands and holdings provided by the steward. “Thank you for informing me. They are in the East Hall?”

“Yes, Lady,” Miss Adir says. 

As you follow her to the hall, you wonder how different this will be compared to how you usually buy your clothing. When you were younger, you didn’t have many proper dresses or suits because you were seldom well enough to go to public events. As a consequence, many of your outfits were primarily for if you felt well enough to be at the dinner table of your parents’ home and were rather plain. You didn’t mind it except that it was another thing you didn’t get to have or do. 

The first year you were well enough to attend schooling, at fifteen years, a whole wardrobe of clothing was ordered, but by your mother on your behalf. You’d gone into town, one of your first ever such trips, to be measured and fitted. It had been exciting and overwhelming, and your shyness became very apparent, especially to Mother, who nearly changed her mind about sending you to school rather than keeping private tutors. Luckily, your middle sister had been home at the time and had managed to convince her of the necessity of it, as well as the lack of harm at least trying.

It had been invigorating and nerve-inducing, putting on those new clothes and beginning the new chapter of your life. You had felt like such an impostor those early days. Even those your own age had felt older than you somehow, more worldly and more settled—as though they knew things you wouldn’t even think to ask, had done more than you realized could be done. Not big dramatic things, like in tales and novels, but easy, mundane adventures that they did not even realize they had had the privilege of being able to do. In return, they and your teachers had seen you as an oddity, strange and sheltered. The initial experience had left you feeling very young and silly and fragile.

After you finished your schooling, your parents put a greater focus on integrating you onto the social scene, onto finding you a suitable partner. At first, you had been somewhat happy, happy they seemed to be treating you as your other siblings, as a full person doing what any of them might. Then you realized it was just about doing the bare minimum of what they saw their duty was to you and getting you off their hands. The new attention, the new clothing, the new events they brought you to, lost a great deal of the luster they had. It became a trial and every time it was fraught with nerves and worries about what would be decided. Would they find a suitable match for you? Would you agree on the suitability? Would they not be able to do so?What must everyone think of you?

It had been a relief in many ways when you were introduced to Grandfather Northridge and saw your parents were serious about this betrothal, for Lord Dale was at least unattached, young, and not so drastically different in social class as to imply something or other about why the match was being made. The fact that he had a bit of a reputation and your dowry was a little higher than expected were minimal compared to what you had feared, especially if the search had continued to go on. 

Many of those dresses, the ones worn to the various balls and galas and dinner you attended, would likely suit for the upcoming events held in honor of your upcoming marriage. The wedding itself though… No, none would do, not when marrying as high as you were to the inheriting child of such an old noble house, even one without particular distinction in terms of wealth or power.

Originally, your wedding gown was something you had considered, primarily at the handful of weddings you attended as you left behind childhood, your siblings in particular, but also certain neighbors, an acquaintance from school who saw fit to invite you and so on. It had stirred up thoughts about what color to choose and what style of gown. What accessories looked nice and which looked bothersome. A tentative hopefulness had cropped up in you at the thought of the next stage of your life

Then you met Dale. Soon, you knew he saw himself as particularly handsome, particularly fashionable, and particularly picky about the appearance he presented to others. You had smothered your thoughts and ideas then, knowing he would make all the decisions regarding your wedding outfits. It was an arena you had not cared enough to try to press your luck in.

Now though…

Perhaps you stand a chance at having your opinion heard.

“Ah, there you sweetheart,” Grandmother Northridge’s voice interrupts your thoughts and you realize you’ve arrived at the East Hall. “Good, good.”

You’ve only been in the East Hall once before when you’d gotten a tour of this Northridge estate. Per your studies, there were three proper Northridge estates the family used, in addition to two houses in the largest two border cities. Your family only had the city house and a more historic country estate, where you had spent the majority of your childhood. When larger artisans and craftsmen came to present wares to the family, this was the hall that was primarily used. As such, it was arranged with that in mind, numerous partitions and smaller tables were spread throughout the hall, with the main table for the family near the entrance, rather than on a dais along  one of the sides of the hall or in the center.

Your personal maid is already here, having arranged for some of your underthings and other similar base garments to be ready for fittings and such. Miss Adir, a young general maid who often assisted the other personal attendants, goes to join her and Grandmother’s maid. You go over to where Grandmother is sitting with Dale, where he is helping her to arrange a similar magnifying glass as she had the other day to examine what you assume are fashion plates from the patternmakers. 

“Come sit down,” Grandmother says, patting the seat to her left. “Archibald won’t be joining us, so you can sit right here.”

You’re not surprised given Grandfather’s noncommittal answer regarding this portion of wedding arrangements yesterday. He is a man who is utterly uninterested in fashion and you’re fairly certain simply wears whatever Grandmother or his valet sets out for him. 

You sit down where she bids you to and take a look at what she’s examining. To your surprise, the drawings look rather weathered and old—not new fashion plates after all. The style too, is older and your eye searches the drawing for a date. You spot it just as Grandmother says, “These are from our wedding. Your parents as well.” She points to another set of sketches on her right near Dale, who slides them closer to you. “I have copies of the wedding designs of all my children and grandchildren.” She points to an open leather folder with a similar range of aged paper sketches.

You reach and pull the folder closer to you. Carefully you look through the various designs, noting the changes in fashion as well as hints of their wearers’ personality. Mostly it makes you realize how out of your depths you feel regarding fashion and clothing. You have a preference for certain colors and can tell when someone looks appealing or has put effort into their clothing, but that’s the most you can generally ascertain. And you can never truly articulate what you notice.

Without realizing it, your eyes dart to Dale. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you, though you don’t know why. Does he also wish to look at these designs? You start to gather everything back into the folder to pass to him, when he looks up and to his right. “Are those my parents’ wedding clothes?”

You arch your neck to look beyond him and see three dressmaker forms. “Yes,” Grandmother says. “I thought you might like to see them. I even had my own dress brought out from storage.” She pushes away from the table and accepts Dale’s offered arm with a smile.

She waves her hand at you to follow, so you rise as well, interested in seeing such family heirlooms. Grandmother’s own dress is first, but it looks newer than you’d expect and not… something about its sizing seems off somehow. “When my youngest got married, I had my gown remade for the occasion. The sleeves were increased as was the fashion at the time, the beading and pearls re-sewn, and the veil repurposed into this lovely hat. A pity feathers are not as popular these days as they once were.”

You eye the truly impressive numbers of feathers she managed to fit onto the hat and privately disagree. Judging by the amused and mildly incredulous look Dale shoots you over Grandmother’s head, he agrees. “The pink of the original gown I found to be too young for myself and so it was re-dyed dark to a lovely maroon which unfortunately has not withstood the test of time particularly well.”

You agree with that assessment and can see how it might have once been a dark maroon, instead it is almost a grungy red, giving the rather unfortunate impression that the gown was rather dramatically bloodstained and then badly washed. The coloring is streaky now, even if the overall silhouette is still pleasing. 

“Now, as you’ll see,” Grandmother says, gesturing to the three forms, “Archibald’s suit is not here as he wore it into the ground and then the waistcoat was fashioned into handkerchiefs for our children’s weddings. In our day, very light colored suits were a popular trend for a number of years, to better show off embroidery and the like, but it wouldn’t have been suitable for an update even twenty years ago.”

She reaches out for what must have been Dale’s father’s wedding suit and tugs out the handkerchief in his pocket. It’s a lovely cream with impressive embroidery of blue flowers and green stems, still full of color even after what must have been forty years. “While he’s not here to say so, I believe he would be pleased if you bore it for your wedding as well, dear.”

Dale reaches out and accepts the handkerchief, running a thumb over the largest bloom. “Of course, Grandmother. It would be my honor to continue the tradition.”

You smile to see that he seems to mean his words, his eyes fixed on the flower. Grandmother beams, hugging the arm she’s still leaning on. “You’re such a good boy, Dale.” He ducks his head so you can’t see his expression but you wonder what it might be. How does he feel about Grandmother? He certainly indulges her more than anyone else, as he had before, but it feels less performative than it did with original Dale, who even at his most sincere still seemed relatively shallow.

“Unfortunately, the rest of your father’s suit suffered in the same flood that damaged my own. I was furious when I saw what had happened. You will have to forgive an old woman’s nostalgia for keeping it around at all,” she says, drawing a hand down the admittedly warped lapel of the black suit jacket. “Your father looked so handsome in it, so happy. I have not had the heart to turn it to scraps.”

“I see no harm in keeping it,” Dale reassures her, his voice surprisingly solemn. “I feel fortunate to see it.” His eyes linger on the outfit and he reaches out to finger the cuff of the nearer sleeve. “He seems more real to me, when I can hold something he held.” 

You agree. His parents are less a story in the past when you picture a man only a few years older than yourself wearing this on his wedding day. Dale had never seemed particularly to care about his parents, being so young when they died and surrounded and doted on by the family he had left. He drew on their memory when he wished to particularly endear himself to Grandmother or Grandfather, but had never mentioned them otherwise. Not that that means anything overmuch, you were still very much a stranger to him, for all your betrothal. Still, nothing resembling grief had ever seemed to touch him. It had disquieted you once you noticed.

This Dale though… There is a sort of solemn respect as he looks at the garment that once belonged to the man who fathered the body he is in. Do demons have parents? You think some do. Did Dale? Or does he still? Does have a family or did he, once upon a time? Does he miss them? Will he try to invite them to join him? A shiver goes down your spine at that thought. What if you’ve severely misjudged him? What if even now he plans to—

“And this was Lady Qiana’s?” Dale’s voice jolts you back to the present. You hurry back to their sides, having lingered longer while lost in your thoughts.

“Yes,” Grandmother confirms as you all fan out around the last form, “and it had been on a higher shelf and so protected from the damage some of the others suffered. Rather magnificent, is it not?” She’s right: it is a sight. It’s black, an unusual color for a wedding dress, but it’s obvious why. The entire gown is decorated with silver, so much so that the black almost isn’t the primary color, despite being the base. The overlay is a thin, near invisible net of some sort and bands of silver in a variety of abstract patterns decorate the gown elaborately. 

“Your mother’s home has rich veins of silver and it is customary for their dowries to come in this form, if they wear a gown. Even her younger brother’s suit was similarly adorned when we attended his wedding. Your mother was proud of the gown, but expected your father to have it dismantled after the wedding as was also customary.”

“But he didn’t,” Dales says, confusion evident.

“No, he said he treasured the memory the dress represented,” Grandmother says, obviously fond of her son. “That he would only do so if it was necessary. Your mother was always the practical one, but she didn’t push him on this.  And because of that, it was more securely and safely stored. It is still beautiful, although not a current style. It was inspired by Masiir styles of the time in addition to our own.” 

You can see the foreign influence of Lady Qiana’s home country in the patterning and the material, which is lighter than the sturdier fabrics often chosen for this region. The veil is a lovely lace, with more silver woven in, but it is attached to a round cap that reminds you more of the southern continent or the far north than of here.

“She did insist on one particular feature,” Grandmother says, a mischievous glint in her eye. She reaches over and tugs on one of the ties about the waist of the dress. To your surprise, the skirts of the dress, including the overlay, parts revealing fine trousers. “Ever the pragmatic warrior, not only do the skirts part, but they can be detached completely by undoing the right ties. As a former soldier, as most younger children are in her country, she felt it necessary. Personally, I believe she just liked the idea of it. Your father enjoyed it when she showed off as well.

“She was the one who fought in the tournament held in honor of the wedding, not your father. Her skill was widely admired and made for an entertaining exhibition. I’m sure you’ll do honor to her memory,” Grandmother said with a pat to Dale’s arm. 

“Thank you, Grandmother,” Dale smirks, looking confident. “I shall certainly endeavor to do so.”

“Picked up some tricks while abroad?” Grandmother asks, a teasing glint in her eye.

Dale’s grin widened and those teeth of his draw your attention. “Something like that.”

Grandmother chuckles, “I look forward to it then.” She turns to you, catching you off guard. “Unfortunately, I don’t think the dress would suit you.” She eyes you up and down. “Or fit you well, not without significant altering.”

You nod. Dale’s late mother was taller than you and obviously of a more muscular, sturdy build. “I agree and I would not want to change it overmuch, not after it has managed to persist for so long.”

“Still, keep it in mind and we’ll see what jewelry from her gown would be best to add to your own wedding clothing. It is a Northridge tradition to have something carried down from mother to daughter and from father to son. Ideally, we’d want something from both for each of you, but,” Grandmother looks back at the damaged suit, “that’s likely not possible.”

You smile in understanding before frowning. “Should I write home to my parents and request something similar from them? I admit I do not know what state their own wedding clothes are in.”

Grandmother’s eyes light up at your words. “That would be lovely! There’s certainly no harm in asking. What a wonderful offer, dear.” She reaches over to pat your arm in thanks and you blush at her kind regard. 

“Now, enough reminiscing.” She waves her hand as if the past were smoke and turns to where the various clothiers have gathered. “Let us focus on your wedding. First order of business will be to choose your fabrics and colors for the wedding. Then we can peruse the fashion plates and designs that have been prepared, and finally the dressmakers and tailors will take your current measurements.”

“Of course,” Dale says, a bright smile on his face as he steers them to where the fabrics have been arranged. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

The display of fabric swatches is organized by vendor. It's a stunning array of colors, materials, and patterns. You don’t even know where to start, but Dale makes it easy by simply guiding you all over to the nearest display. The merchant introduces himself and begins taking them through his offerings, primarily addressing Dale, who appears to listen intently. You're happy to let him take the lead, rather overwhelmed by the amount of choices. Grandmother isn’t though. She quickly reminds the man that Dale has not inherited yet and that she is the one who invited him here.

Dale murmurs noncommittally to the rest of the man’s, now rather nervous explanation, and they quickly move on to the next fabric merchant. In the end, they allow each draper to show them their wares, then split up to take a second look at swatches which had caught their eye during the initial walk through.

Your typical dresses were light green, pink, or amber, depending on the season to some extent and what colors your mother thought were appropriate for a young woman. Your riding clothes were darker browns in deference to the likelihood of getting dirty and some of your winter dresses were darker as well. You run your fingers along a bright blue wool and think it might be nice to wear something different, something less muted or washed out than you usually wore—if you can, if it will look nice.

Grandmother is chatting with one draper about lace and so you move closer to Dale. Perhaps, once you see what he’s leaning towards, you can choose something complementary. He’s at the second display, the one who has a greater range of material types, if not colors, and is rubbing the different fabrics between his fingers. 

He looks up when you get close enough and smiles. “What do you think?” He holds up a dark red silk, draping it over his large hand. 

It strikes you first and foremost as what Dale might have chosen before. You can clearly picture him in your mind’s eye in a very fine suit of deep red silk. He likely would have insisted on your dress being made of a similar color so that you accented him well, to show that you were his, as his inheritance now was with the marriage—another asset at his disposal. He would have looked very fine and very powerful and very cruel. It would look too much like blood on the original Dale not to.

You find yourself shaking your head without thinking about it.

“No?” Dale asks, arching an eyebrow.

You freeze and swallow, knowing you never would have disagreed with him before. Isn’t that the point though? To see if you can work with this Dale, rather than work around him? “I don’t think that color is the most complimentary to you, my Lord.”

Dale looks back down at the swatch and smiles. “No, perhaps not. It catches the eye, but ultimately will not hold it–not in the manner I fwish.” He sets the swatch back where he pulled it from, neatly into place, and then reaches for something at the other end of the display. “How about this?”

The deep navy square is nearly the opposite of the red silk. It looks almost winter-y and… You reach out without thinking and draw your finger down it. “Velvet,” you note with surprise. “Don’t you think it would be hot for this time of year?”

Dale shrugs. “I don’t heat up easily.” His smile is careless, his eyes dark, as he looks down at you. “I’ve never worn this fabric overmuch, but does it not feel luxurious against the skin?”

Of course, it does—velvet always makes you want to pet it, like you would a particularly indulgent cat. Your eyes dart to his own, Dale strikes you as perhaps a particularly indulgent cat himself these days. It’s not hard to see him in a suit of navy velvet, dark and handsome. You find your mind wandering to what his arm would feel like under yours or against yours as you dance. “It does,” you say, your mouth remembering his question even if your mind has wandered. You gently pet the fabric again. “If you are confident in your ability to wear such a  fabric–despite the temperature–I think it would be lovely.”

He grins down at you. “It will go well with the handkerchief.” He pulls it out so that they might lie side-by-side. He’s right too, the flowers are only a shade or two lighter than the navy and the white provides good contrast to the dark fabric. “And while it's not from Silvermont, the draper said the velvet is from Masiir.”

You nod, surprised but pleased he seems interested in honoring that connection. 

“Have you made a decision?” Grandmother says, proving that she can move with surprising speed and quiet, even at her age. You jump and Dale tenses at her sudden appearance. Your eyes are drawn to his shadow, although you’re not sure why–it simply seems sharper, more tangible. For a brief second the room feels colder. There’s a tension that makes you freeze, before Dale blinks and it dissipates. 

“Yes,” Dale says, handing over the swatch.

While they discuss his choice and what potential styles might suit it, you wander back over to the display with the most variety of patterns. You’re no longer sure about the blue you had been eyeing. Ever since you thought the old Dale would have made you match, you find yourself wanting to choose something different. 

The amber with red flowers is nice, but it feels like what you think you should pick, rather than what you want to choose. Same for the green with the stripes. Still, you draw both out to lay on the table along with the light blue with white blue accents as they are the ones which have drawn your attention the most. 

You’re running your eyes over the display, wondering if you should go to the next one when Dale joins you. He lays out two more squares of fabric, both brocades from the final table: one blue and one yellow, both with silver patterns. They’re lovely silks, lovely enough you do not want to ask what the price will be—although likely still less than Dale’s velvet. 

He steps away again without saying a word and comes back over moments later, Grandmother in tow, with three other choices from the other vendors, all linen: another darker blue, a muted yellow, and a light red. Grandmother is quick to begin discussing the merits of each; she seems to be favoring the blues.

You stare at the choices and it hits you all over again that this is for your wedding dress, because you will be married in a month. You feel too young and out-of-your-depth as you stare blindly at the table. You’ve always known this is where your life was heading and yet, now that it’s here, truly here—the thought seems too foreign. How could you be planning your wedding?

A murmur of your name and a firm hand on your upper arm pulls you back into the present. “Are you alright, my Lady?” Dale asks, his voice low with concern. 

His face comes into focus and you take a deep breath, uncomfortably aware that you hadn’t been. “Yes,” you reply automatically. “I’m fine.”

Dale presses his lips together, as if he doesn’t believe you, but also doesn’t wish to contradict you. “If you’re certain,” he murmurs. “We could bring these over to our table, sit down to contemplate them.”

You feel yourself soften in the face of his consideration. It’s clear he has no notion as to what might have upset you, but he is trying to make things easier. His gesture reminds you that you are not alone in this. “That’s not necessary, although I thank you. I simply…” You bit your lip. You never would have shared this with Dale before but… “I believe this simply made our upcoming wedding quite real to me.”

“Oh?” Dale looks interested and thoughtful at your words. He nods slowly. “Yes, I think I felt similarly earlier.” His eyes dart to where his father’s suit is. “A strange feeling, but not an altogether unpleasant one.” He looks tentatively hopeful at his own words and you find yourself smiling in response.

“No, not unpleasant,” you agree because now you can identify excitement mixed in with all the other feelings that had so overwhelmed you. 

Dale grins at your words, looking almost boyishly pleased. Then his eyes dart to the table, the spark in them growing. “Does that mean you’ve made your decision?”

“Yes,” you say without giving it much thought. Reaching down you pick up the yellow silk brocade because you think that is part of what made it real. You can see yourself, in a dress made from this fabric at your wedding to Dale, handsome in his navy suit.

When his eyes move from the fabric, back to your own, he smiles and you think he can see it too.

[Part Seven.5]

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #nothing's wrong with dale #terato #exophilia #monster bf #male monster #arranged marriage #osha compliant #reader #slow burn #Dale the sequel #this ended up so much longer than i expected #and i kept falling down fashion rabbit holes #but its here #check the nothing's wrong with dale tag for two inspiration pictures #everyone who voted on color voted for yellow #and thats what i had been leaning towards too #so it was unanimous #let me know what you think! #story part #story: dale

[poisonouspastels]

I need to talk about Minecraft AU for a sec and how the difference between our world and their world makes for some of the most humorous but also interesting differences in how people act about certain subjects.

Like the trans thing right. Steve and Rana are both trans I've talked about that before. And neither of them are on hormone replacement or anything (there is an in universe explanation as to why Steve has a beard though I promise I can talk about that if anyone wants) but like that's fine bc it literally Doesn't Matter to them or anyone else. Like as spawned players they already don't have any pre-existing gender roles or ideas of what something "should" be so gender and presentation is what they make of it and there's no real solid idea in anyone's mind about how a "boy" or "girl" behaves or looks like. These are labels that exist but they barely mean anything. It also helps that any preexisting culture that WOULD have ideas of this was almost entirely destroyed like 5000 years ago (thanks Groda) so it matters even less than it already did.

And its funny bc the only two people alive from that era, White Eyes and Groda also just don't care. Groda maybe asks why Rana's voice sounds deeper once and nearly gets torn apart by Alex bc of it (Rana isn't offended or anything she just has a defensive girlfriend), bc she doesn't really understand because she never experienced anything like this first hand but very quickly comes to understand it and accept it. And on the other hand White Eyes is just like "I've seen weirder things than this" which yeah. Yeah honestly I think the person who was previously one with the undead would not care about gender in the grand scheme of things.

And then u have Kai which I've joked before that they may as well have been spawned in nonbinary. They rlly just said "I'm not really anything" and everyone was like yeah makes sense I vibe with it. Good for u.

Steve and Rana are both fairly open about having been the opposite genders previously (because that's how they view their experiences and that's valid!) and don't really shy away from the subject but also never really have much reason to talk about it since there's rarely a need to. In the modern day pretty much everyone who met them had met them post-transition. Even Alex had met them just before Steve started growing in his beard. The only people who ever knew them as Adam and Eve were Efe and Sunny but they never really thought it was weird or anything. Like the weirdest part to them was Steve saying he got his epiphany from seeing some guy in the distance on a foggy day who looked vaguely like him but that's its own subject manner that they aren't going to pry on.

Also Steve did DIY top "surgery" previously with a sword but we aren't going to talk about how messy that was for everyone involved.

#minecraft #minecraft au mastertag #apologies for my trans ramblings. how i get to approach these subject matters in the AU is just fun #and i needed to get some thoughts out #unrelated fun fact that i think most people here dont know: Steve and Alex were actually the first two to be in a committed relationship #not Steve and Rana like most would (rightfully) expect #this is because despite the fact that the two have literally know eachother for their entire lives #they're both really bad at being honest with themselves. #for years it was 'i like this person but i dont know how to tell them' #to 'well maybe i only FEEL like i like them because i dont know anyone else that well' #to 'well maybe they dont feel the same and it'd be weird to bring it up now' #you've heard of slow burn now get ready for what those two had going on #Alex when integrated into the household and months had passed actually had enough confidence to ask #here's the funny part though. she had assumed that Steve and Rana WERE dating already (and was cool with it obviously) #they were not. #so u can imagine how funny it is for Steve to hear 'Your girlfriend is pretty' out of Alex's mouth bc of that #She's more shocked that they're NOT dating already they live in the same house they've known eachother for literally their entire existence #they are like so stupidly affectionate with eachother to boot #'And you've known her for how long??' 'I mean... about 10 years?' 'DUDE.' #its actually agonizing but on the bright side it is what got the polycule started eventually #I would not be surprised if Sunny and Efe placed bets on if/when it would eventually happen

[maebyshifting]

my descendants dr!

𓆷 ━━━ background info ━━━ 𓆷

firstly i haven't even watched descendants until last year when my friend forced me to and i absolutely fell in love with it

my favorite movie is def the second one, but my ranking goes two, three, then one. uma's crew brings exactly what it needed and i love them so much

in general my favorite character is evie i love her <3 mwah the older sister figure i never knew i needed

𓆷 ━━━━ about me ━━━━━ 𓆷

my name is raye fitzherbert and i am the child of rapunzel and eugene!

we are 18/19 and auradon is a university instead of a prep/high school

ben and i are basically like siblings as our parents are very close - unfortunately auradon believes we're arranged to be married since we are so close

i have a cat named sunny and she is an actual ray of sunshine i love her so much

here she is :)

i don't have any siblings, which is why ben and i are so close since we're only children

my wardrobe consists of a lot of yellow + lavender + light blue combos

i have a dagger that i have on me at all times just in case and know how to sword fight/use it

i look more like my dad but i have my moms eyes and freckles :)

𓆷 ━━━━━ extra details about my home + auradon ━━━━━━ 𓆷

while there are dorms in auradon, i do not have a roommate right now but i can request one if i want

in my home castle my room is up in the tower and is full of artistic doodles from my mom and i and its a lavender and sunny aesthetic

lots of purple and yellow if that makes sense (yellow is my favorite color even in my cr so it makes sense for me)

speaking of yellow my dorm at auradon is more yellow than lavender because its my favorite color :)

there's a lot of majors but i have no idea what i want to major in yet so i'm still figuring it all out

we actually use magic in auradon! i think magic is so central and our parents definitely passed their magic onto us so we get to use it

also in carona we have a lantern ceremony for my birthday and it is so beautiful i get emotional every time

so we celebrate my birthday and the day my mom was found, there's other festivals as well to celebrate things like harvest and fall <3

𓆷 ━━━━ timeline ━━━━━ 𓆷

i am shifting to the first movie, specifically the day that the vks are coming to auradon!

i love to meet people and experience all of that so i get to meet the vks with ben and help show them around

nothing really changes in the first movie, mal doesn't drug ben because that was wild but ben definitely has had a crush on mal for a while now

i convinced him to propose his vk plan <3

in the second movie i also go to the isle with ben and we both get kidnapped!

i made a tiktok about this but i literally follow him and wind up being taken as well- oops

but hey thats where i meet uma's crew!

and harry but thats not important rn-

third movie i'm with jane for her birthday and meet up with everyone in the woods like in the movie

so yeah other than that its like super close to the movies

i can't wait for after the third movie though timeline was because it's going to be so fun with all the villain kids in auradon with us

especially uma's crew <3 i love uma so much i respect the hell out of her

𓆷 ━━━ relationships ━━━━ 𓆷

as i already said, ben and i are basically siblings auradon doesn't agree rn smh

we speak to each other in french when we don't want others to know what we're saying

also as stated before ben has a HUGE crush on mal

because we've been doing research on the isle so he could propose his idea to his parents

anway

i'm really good friends with jane and my friend sol :) idk if they're on tumblr but they are my shifting best friend and we script each other into our drs so we can meet

anyway sol is chad's twin and they're cinderella and prince charming's kids

her and chad are very close as siblings, brains and beauty frfr

i haven't met any of the vks yet but i hope to be really good friends with them :)

especially evie and uma's crew

but like i'm excited to meet everyone

lets talk about harry hook

i like to script scenarios so if you're not into that feel free to ignore this! i like to jot the ideas down so it finally leaves my head

sooooo harry has a little crush

that's the best way to explain it

so while ben has a crush on mal, harry has a little crush on a certain princess and doesn't think it'll ever happen until the press interview said princess where they state that ben and her are more like siblings not arranged lovers

so yeah :) descendants two is going to be fun

audrey doesn't like me or mal

she thinks i'm in the way of her families plan for her to be queen but i'm literally like go! take him! i don't want ben!

but he has eyes on mal so she doesn't like that either

other than that i'm very close with my parents and ben's parents

also gil and i are going to be best friends. i haven't met him yet but that's my goal because he also speaks french and is so naturally funny

𓆷 ━━━━ extras ━━━━━ 𓆷

in this dr we do still sing and dance which is so fun

my dance partner usually was ben, but after the vks arrived it turns into jay

jay gives older brother vibes idk he makes me feel safe

there's a ton of balls as well where we dress up and wear our crowns since a lot of us are princesses/princes

here's my crown :) its like a mini version of my moms crown but in my mind its more stylized to fit the yellow/lavendar theme i have

i think that's everything i can think of- if anyone has any questions i'd love to answer them!

i love talking about my drs and this one is so special to me because the world is so amazing and i love the music so much

also if you have a descendants dr please tell me about them!

#reality shifting #shifting #quantum jumping #shiftblr #scripting #shifting community #disney descendants #descendants #shifting to descendants #my descendants dr #i had a dream about harry hook thats why he's my s/o here #also i love slow burn #and friends to lovers #and this one is enemies to friends to lovers so its even better #about my dr #dr #desired reality

[hecatesbroom]

Young Dorothy has been taking up an excessive amount of my thoughts for the past week or so, when something clicked the other day, and this happened.

Summary

Chronic fatigue syndrome. It makes sense to Dorothy the moment she hears it, and everything clicks into place. It feels like an inevitable consequence of the weariness that has been hollowing out her bones all her life; a life spent constantly drained, always fighting on the brink of collapse. It's as if now that her mind has finally settled, her body is making up for lost time. (Dorothy has been tired all her life. CFS is a different beast entirely, but it brings back memories)

#i know it's april fool's today and we're all busy booping but i had to get this out so i can stop thinking about it 24/7 lmao #and also i like having april 1st as a publishing date. what can i say. i'm a simple woman #anyway i was riding my bike to work the other day and thought 'oh god i'm so tired i can feel it in my bones' #so of course my second thought was 'but what if i use it as a metaphor' #and here we are lmao #also i've been thinking about how dorothy's cfs (and her hearing aid but i couldn't really fit that in here) is so underexplored #both in canon *and* fandom #so of course i had to combine my newfound metaphor with that #didn't tag it but the main ship for this is dorothy/happiness #slow burn of course #my writing #the golden girls #dorothy zbornak #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

[superiorkenshi]

If I see another tiktok putting Azirphale/Crowley or Hannibal/Will in the queerbaiting ship category I'm going to kill everyone and then myself I swear

#Is Hannibal in love with me? #WAS NOT ENOUGH ??? #Even my straight bestie had been able to tell that good omens was a romantic show #people are just dumb #if ship doesn't kiss you don't see it as canon it's so dumb #(and aphobic) #if ofmd was the same minus the kiss scene you will be here saying it's queerbaiting #you don't know how to make differences between queerbaiting and queercoded or slow burn #it's pathetic #those two serie put so much proof of love frome those two ship #if you don't see it you're just blind #waw I was salty #but it's really make me angry #as a aroace individual seeing people saying that those ship aren't valid cause they don't kiss make me so sick #I don't kiss and I don't love like other people love jut that doesn't mean my relationship are not as valid as yours #good omens #hannibal #ineffable husbands #murder husbands #hannigram #aziracrow #kenshi's fandom

[theflyingfeeling]

Fourtheenth Day of Gift-Giving: Fun Adventures

Prompt: A group project in school brings some unusual friends together

Yes, it's a high school AU, somewhat inspired by / based off this fic idea I had a while ago! I've never written a high scool AU before so pls be nice, also I've taken some liberties with the prompt again, because there's no group project per se, they're simply in the same chemistry class 😌

Banner made by @kraeuterhexchen again, thanks for suffering for me a bit I love youuuu <3

~

Aleksi muffled his third yawn in a row on his palms. Every single week at this exact time he regretted his promise to his father that he’d take at least four optional courses this school year on top of all the compulsory ones in exchange for a language course in Amsterdam next June. The tragedy was that his schedule was already so full with the compulsory courses alone that he could barely find gaps to fill with anything else at more humane times than at eight o’clock on a Monday morning, which was when his additional chemistry class was held. It didn’t help that none of his friends or acquaintances were taking the same class; Aleksi envied them for their superior life choices.

Chemistry could be alright at best, but in general it wasn’t among his favourite subjects. Rather than reaction equations, Aleksi was much more fascinated by the only other guy in the group he knew by name, who, by the happy coincidence of the two of them both being late to class on the first day, ended up being his lab partner. He didn’t know Olli because they were buddies, quite the contrary, in fact; one of Olli’s friends was still bitter about Aleksi standing him up regarding a music project (which had been but a case of bad communication, of which Aleksi was deeply ashamed, even though in the eyes of his own friends it had been ‘such a big-dick move to put that cocky emo loser back in his place lol’), so Aleksi wasn’t exactly surprised that Olli never replied to his sleepy greeting on Monday mornings. Thinking back to it, Aleksi couldn’t recall the boy saying anything at all during the chemistry classes, so that by now he would’ve started suspecting Olli was mute, if it wasn’t for the times he had seen Olli laugh and joke about with his friends at recess. From the little Aleksi had heard when he had passed by the group in the school corridors, Olli had a soft, quiet voice, often blending under the much louder ones of his friends, which was why Aleksi had set making Olli speak to him as his main ambition for the course, rather than getting a high mark.

“Morning,” he said to Olli like he did every Monday, and like every Monday, Olli barely glanced his way. What made this Monday different from all the other Mondays was that Aleksi could’ve sworn he had seen Olli nod at him this time, sort of in a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of way, although it may as well have been just his tired brain making things up. Nevertheless, it gave Aleksi the spark of hope that had him sit up straight, ready to converse Olli’s ears off in case he finally happened to be in the mood, but before he could open his mouth to ask Olli about his weekend, the teacher started the lesson by shoving hand-outs on their tables.

That day, however, Aleksi was determined to succeed in his plan at long last, even if he had to get a little creative.

While Olli was concentrating on keeping his eyes open as the teacher explained the theory behind the day’s experiments, Aleksi picked up his pencil and wrote on the corner of Olli’s hand-out:

Hi! :)

The anticipation nearly had him tremble as he waited for Olli to react in any way; for the longest time, bordering Aleksi’s patience, Olli did nothing but stare at the letters Aleksi had scribbled. He still didn’t look at him, still didn’t say anything or – god forbid – smile; he just blinked at the single word that had appeared in the corner of his paper.

Then, after a million years in Aleksi’s experience, he grabbed his own pencil.

hi

Those two letters alone made Aleksi feel like a winner already.

How are you?

Still keeping his eyes firmly on the paper, Olli seemed to be pondering his answer for a while.

good

Aleksi wondered if Olli was as terse speaking up as he was in writing.

Great to hear! I’m doing good as well :) Do you have a long day on Mondays?

Exactly like a moment earlier, Olli did nothing but stare at their brief written conversation. Aleksi wanted to believe that Olli was just about to write his answer but was ruthlessly interrupted by the teacher ordering them to walk over and look closer as she’d perform an example experiment for them to later mimic.

They didn’t get a chance to continue their little chat later on in the lesson, and they never spoke during the practical experiments they were asked to do – or rather, Olli never spoke, despite Aleksi’s best efforts to at least have him answer some simple yes-or-no questions, such as ‘do you want to try first?’ or ‘can you pass the pipette?’ or ‘oh fuck, do you think we should tell the teacher?’ when their experiments sometimes failed unexpectedly. The best Aleksi had gotten out of Olli was a suppressed snort when the other day Aleksi had accidentally spilled some red colour additive on his brand-new Off-White t-shirt.

“Quit laughing, or I’ll tell everyone it’s your blood,” he had said in hopes of making Olli properly giggle, but it had seemed to have the opposite effect, for Olli hadn’t let out a single sound for the rest of class after that. Later, Aleksi had wondered if it had been because Olli was scared Aleksi actually might, and to prevent his friends from getting wind of them being lab partners – because clearly he was that opposed to the idea of being associated with Aleksi – he had firmly kept his lips sealed for the rest of the class and all the ones that followed it.

This day, someone must have put something in Olli’s breakfast porridge, however, because when the class was dismissed, Olli spoke in his low, quiet voice, not even directly at Aleksi, but more to his general direction, so that Aleksi knew the words were addressed to him.

“See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya!” Aleksi replied, perhaps a little too eagerly, rolling his eyes in frustration when Olli hurried out of the classroom.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

~*~

The next Monday, Aleksi decided to go past formalities and straight to the point to get Olli to interact with him.

Had a nice wknd? :) 

Aleksi was most definitely too optimistic for his own good, but he had a feeling Olli didn’t take half as long to answer this time, even though his reply remained brief.

yup

Literally on the edge of his seat, Aleksi waited for Olli to elaborate on his reportedly ‘nice weekend’ – in vain. He rolled his eyes and picked up his pencil again.

What did you get up to?

Olli flipped pencil in his fingers like one would do with a drumstic, clumsily, almost dropping it on his desk. Aleksi saw an attractive blush slowly spread on Olli’s cheeks and hoped it wouldn’t discourage Olli away from the budding conversation. 

At last, Aleksi’s patient waiting was rewarded.

went to see a gig

Aleksi clenched his pencil into his fist out of sheer excitement. If there was a topic Aleksi could’ve chatted about for hours on end, it was music, his first and (so far) only love. He knew Olli played in a band and was sure that if he only could somehow make Olli lower his walls for him, they might actually find a lot to whisper about to pass the time a bit more merrily on Monday mornings.

So cool! Who did you see?

Olli didn’t keep him waiting for long, which Aleksi decided to take as a sign of Olli also being keen on their current conversation topic.

If only Aleksi knew how to help Olli get out of his shell a little more.

a friend’s band

Aleksi nodded, careful not to appear too enthusiastic or intrusive to scare Olli off, now that he had gotten him to write more than one word at a time.

Any good?

The teacher was just about to have the class gathered around her table again, so instead of a thorough review of the music show, Olli only jotted down a wonky yup in response before hurrying to the front of the classroom. During the whole rest of the class, Aleksi was not given another chance to fish more out of Olli’s weekend.

Well, he sighed to himself, standing up to join his coursemates, another Monday, then. 

~*~

Later that day, sort of by coincidence (of having purposefully lingered around the music classroom on the pretext of asking the music teacher about an upcoming extra credit class), Aleksi learnt Olli’s band had a practice slot in the music classroom on Monday evenings. His plan was not to spy on Olli, but he figured he might as well use this newly-acquired information to squeeze a little more out of Olli in their next chemistry class.

Any plans after school?

Only when he noticed Olli freeze upon seeing the question on the margin of his notebook, Aleksi realised how it must sound like to him, so out of the blue.

Just curious btw :) 

Olli seemed to hesitate before answering.

band practice

Aleksi hid his smirk behind his palm.

Hook, line and sinker, he thought to himself, the pencil in his hand itching to write down all the follow-up questions he had prepared. By the end of the class, Aleksi congratulated himself, for his plan to have Olli blabber about their common interest had worked out splendidly: Aleksi had learnt, for example, that Olli had been playing the bass for seven years already and that their band was actually working on their first EP, which Aleksi was genuinely impressed by. What really had made Aleksi feel like he was on top of the world, however, was when he noticed the smallest hint of amusement on Olli’s face; he still hadn’t managed to lure Olli to look him in the eye, but he had made him smile, which was perhaps even better.

The rest of the week Aleksi spent barely paying attention to what his friends were talking or laughing about in between classes, too busy searching for his chemistry class conversation buddy with his eyes. He did so every day, even though he was convinced the principal granting him the rest of the semester off with no consequences was more likely than catching Olli looking at him.

That was, until he did.

It was only a fleeting moment in time as they passed each other in the canteen and over before Aleksi’s heart could settle back to its place from his throat where it had jumped up to. He couldn’t tell since when his lab partner looking his way had started rousing this kind of reaction in him; then again, Olli had never really glanced his way before, so how could he have known?

Maybe that was also why Aleksi hadn’t noticed the shade of Olli’s irises until now. They were dark grey, he could tell, serious but not cold by any means. He couldn’t wait to take a closer look at them the next time he was given the chance.

Perhaps it was time for Aleksi to change his tactics.

~*~

“Hi Olli,” Aleksi said as soon as Olli walked up to his desk the next Monday. As if surprised to hear his name spoken out loud, Olli looked up at him, and Aleksi was granted another glimpse of those mysterious eyes.

Olli didn’t let him rejoice for too long, though, before turning his gaze to his desk as he sat down.

“Hi.”

And that was it: their first spoken conversation (in which Olli had also participated), despite Olli avoiding his gaze for the rest of the class, as was his right. Aleksi supposed. Even Aleksi himself was too giddy about the interaction to think of anything else to say.

It was almost ridiculous, if he was honest with himself. Yet, for the first time during the whole autumn semester, Aleksi was looking forward to the early Monday morning chemistry class.

~*~

Within the next couple of weeks, their conversations evolved from exchanging casual greetings (‘Hi Olli!’ ‘Hi…Aleksi’) to deep discussions about the current events in their lives (‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good.’ ‘Awesome’), which was equal parts exciting and frustrating to Aleksi. His heart would do the silly bouncing-up-to-his-throat thing whenever Olli blessed him with a quick glance of his dark eyes (Aleksi could swear they were a different shade every time he looked), but the moments only ever lasted for a second or two at a time. On the bright side, Olli would no longer rush out of the classroom to get out of having to perform any more small talk, but instead took his time putting his books and pencils back in his bag carefully, even if Aleksi never managed to open his mouth in time before Olli would make his inevitable escape. Aleksi suspected that it was, indeed, the newfound thrill of being graced with the occasional, fleeting look from Olli that rendered him speechless and caused him to miss his chance of getting to talk with Olli at least until they’d reach the classroom doorway. From there onwards they’d go their separate ways anyway, to their different worlds: Aleksi to one in which Olli was a moody emo kid with no sense of humour (or so Aleksi had been told by Isac who went to the same biology class with Olli), and Olli to one in which Aleksi was probably portrayed as a self-satisfied snob who once did his friend dirty.

The Monday after that, Olli never walked in through the classroom door, no matter how intensely Aleksi stared at it. When the days passed and Aleksi hadn’t caught a glimpse of the boy by Friday, he became worried, to the extent he considered walking up to Olli’s friend group to ask about him. He was almost certain that the one with the short platinum-blond hair might have actually told him, or at least he looked the least intimidating out of them all. One of them was almost two heads taller than Aleksi, so he saw it best to stay out of his way, although his smile – in those rare occasions he did smile – was anything but frightening. The one with the baggy clothes Aleksi had once heard rapping at a house party was tiny in comparison, but something about the angle of his eyebrows gave Aleksi the chills. Joel was obviously out of the question; Aleksi would probably never dare speak to him after The Incident. Joonas, on the other hand (Aleksi knew his name because he and Joel often squabbled loudly, with Joel shouting his name in bewilderment, his obvious affection for the boy poorly masked as annoyance), seemed like the kind of guy who would whisper you the right answer just in time before the teacher’s drill of a stare would bore a hole through your skull.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he watched as Olli’s friends were stepping in the Swedish classroom. As if on cue, Joonas was the last one about to walk through the door, and seeing his chance had come, Aleksi zoomed over and grabbed him by his sleeve.

“Hey,” he said once he had pulled Joonas aside, hidden from the disapproving looks of Joel and company.

“Huh?”

“Do you happen to know where Olli is?” Going straight to the point seemed like the best strategy to get anything out of Joonas, in case Aleksi had completely misjudged him and he was about to be punched in the face.

“He’s caught the cold. Why?” Knitting his brows and eyeing Aleksi up and down, Joonas seemed sceptical about Aleksi’s intentions, to say the least.

(It had Aleksi wondering if any of his own friends would act as protectively about him, but that was a matter of concern for another day entirely.)

“Ummmm… I have his chemistry homework for him.”

Aleksi could almost hear the cogwheels turning inside Joonas’ head until his expression brightened.

“Aaah… Right! Yeah, I suppose you would.” (Whatever Joonas meant by that.) “I’m gonna go over later today to see how he’s doing, so I can forward the message for you.”

“Oh, great! Thanks!” Aleksi said, as if he had any clue what they had actually been given as homework four days ago.

Ironically, Aleksi was saved by Joel calling for Joonas from inside the classroom.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Joonas winked at him, and then he was gone. 

Joonas never did catch up with him, however, and so Aleksi was saved from the embarrassment of admitting he hadn’t been following their chemistry lesson after all, more or less due to the disappointment of not seeing Olli after having spent the entire weekend planning what he’d say to him. Not knowing if Olli would be attending the upcoming Monday’s class either, the weekend went by slower than ever, which normal-Aleksi would’ve embraced; this new, strange, maybe-crushing-on-his-quiet-lab-partner-Aleksi was on pins and needles.

~*~

There it was again, that awful skip of his heart, when Aleksi saw Olli enter the classroom on Monday. So relieved he was that he had no means to tone down the excitement in his greeting.

“You’re here!”

Olli looked up at him but said nothing, his silence a pang to Aleksi’s chest. His joy upon their reunion changed into defeat in less than a second, and Aleksi felt like a right idiot for having thought Olli, too, might have been waiting to see him again.

Suddenly fascinated by the cover of his chemistry course book, Aleksi put his head down to hide his disappointment. He was already settled for staring at the abstract drawing for the next 75 minutes to avoid more heartbreak, but then a slip of paper appeared in front of him.

can’t speak doctor’s orders

On his face, Olli was wearing a kind, small smile. In that instant, Aleksi forgot what he had even been so saddened about. He flashed Olli a smile in return and started searching with his eyes for a pencil; he would’ve felt too weird talking to Olli out loud without him being able to answer. Tragically, it seemed that in anticipation of possibly seeing Olli again after so long, Aleksi had forgotten to pack his pencil case. Noticing this, Olli offered him his own, the same, tiny smile still on his lips.

Shame! You’re usually so talkative

He knew he was taking a risk poking fun at Olli’s quietness, but to his great relief, Olli’s smile widened and his shoulders twitched in a voiceless chuckle. Encouraged by this, Aleksi continued with an equally risky revelation.

I missed you in class last week

Having written down the words, Aleksi could barely look at Olli as he felt his cheeks heaten up. He let Olli take back his pencil from his fingers, as well as the paper slip from his desk.

Olli spent almost a minute writing down his reply, erasing and rewriting, until he finally passed the paper back to Aleksi, immediately directing his face to the opposite side of the classroom.

missed you too

Aleksi had never seen three words so pretty in his life.

~*~

What followed next was an entire week of unexpected encounters between the two lab partners, as if the universe was purposefully making them cross each other’s way to make up for the past seven days of not seeing each other. On Tuesday, their shoulders brushed walking past each other in a crowded corridor. On Wednesday, they were returning their trays at lunch at the exact same time and exchanged brief smiles. On Thursday, they almost ran into each other at the restroom door, which is when Aleksi learnt Olli had regained his voice, mumbling a small ‘oops’ after having bumped into Aleksi.

On Friday, at the last recess of the day, Olli’s friend Joonas grabbed Aleksi by his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom.

“Wait here,” he ordered, and utterly confused as he was, Aleksi had no choice but to obey.

A moment later Joonas returned, pushing a red-cheeked Olli into the room before promptly leaping back to the corridor, closing the door behind him.

For one long, anxious moment, neither of them said anything, Aleksi because he was still too baffled by the latest turn of events to open his mouth, and Olli because he was… Olli.

“Ummmm…” Olli finally said, his voice a little hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I just… ummm… there’s this… band… tomorrow…”

Aleksi had to bite his lip, both at how adorable Olli was, fumbling with his fingers as words fell out of his mouth one by one, as well as to keep himself from blurting out ‘yes’ before Olli even got around to asking him anything.

“And I was just… thinking if… ‘cuz I have an extra ticket… so… I thought maybe you–”

“Yeah!” To Aleksi’s turmoil, his tongue could sometimes be quicker than his brain. “I mean… what?” 

Behind the classroom door, someone clicked their tongue.

“Yeah, ummmm.” Olli scratched the back of his neck. “So yeah. Would you… like to come? To the show? On Saturday? With me? Maybe? I mean, of course you already have plans–”

“I don’t!” Aleksi hurried to say. “I can come. But… will your friends be coming too though?”

Olli shook his head. Aleksi decided not to dwell on what the evident horror in Olli’s eyes was a sign of. It might have been because he, too, thought it was a little too soon for Aleksi and Joel to make amends – or maybe he was just that terrified of being seen with Aleksi in public.

“No, they won’t. I mean, Joonas was supposed to, but he, ummmmmm, he’s going… ummmm…” Olli’s gaze wandered towards the door, as if for help.

“To my great-uncle’s funeral!” the door whispered at him.

“To his great-uncle’s funeral,” Olli confirmed.

“A-ha,” Aleksi nodded. “Sorry for your loss,” he said to the door.

“...Thanks,” the door replied. Holding back his laughter, Aleksi turned back to Olli who, for the first time since Joonas had urged them on the stage of their current scene, was looking at Aleksi, his round eyes expectant and hopeful for Aleksi’s final answer. Aleksi thought of taking a step closer to him, perhaps even gently touching his hand, but decided against it before his brain would command his limbs to make such reckless movements.

“Guess I’ll see you on Saturday at…?”

“At six. At Sandro’s.”

If Aleksi didn’t get a wink of sleep the following night, it wasn’t only because of excitement; the moment he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, his mind was filled with pictures of a boy with twinkling eyes and a bashful smile, keeping him awake until he fell asleep to them.

~*~

Aleksi couldn’t bring himself to care if he looked a little dumb, smiling to himself and leaning his chin on his palm at eight o’clock the next Monday. Even the teacher announcing a pop quiz could not have washed away the dopey grin that had been painted on his lips since Saturday evening.

He was smiling at the way Olli’s eyes had brightened when he had spotted Aleksi in the crowd. He was smiling at Olli’s shy offer to get him a Pepsi. He was smiling at how star-struck Olli had looked when the band had first got on stage and the way he had lost himself in the music, rocking his head and closing his eyes as if to let the bass lines and guitar riffs swallow him whole. The band had been excellent, Aleksi had to agree, but more than half the time, all Aleksi had seen or heard was Olli.

And for the last three minutes of the show, all Aleksi had felt was Olli; more specifically, he had felt Olli’s hand searching for his, fumbling and hesitating until it finally clasped Aleksi’s during the final song of the band’s setlist, a melancholy rock ballad that prompted lighters and cellphone flashlights to be lit. In Aleksi’s eyes, they were all dim in comparison to the glimmer in Olli’s eyes.

Lying in his bedroom later that evening and throughout the entire next day, Aleksi had still felt the warmth of Olli’s hand in his, even though they had let each other go as soon as the stage lights had been turned off.

“Hi.” Olli’s voice brought Aleksi from Saturday evening back to Monday morning. 

“Hi,” he simply answered. There were a million things he wanted to say to Olli, but his sleepy, happy brain was still working on finding the exact words.

The smile on Olli’s face told him he’d have time to figure it out, at his own pace.

In the meantime, Aleksi could always improvise, and so he picked up his pencil.

♡

They both stared at the tiny heart on the corner of Olli’s notebook, and just when Aleksi was about to convince himself he had made a terrible mistake, Olli took the pencil out of his hand.

♡ ♡

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #ollixallu #an alternative universe in which aleksi went to high school lol #i mean correct me if i'm wrong but didn't he go to amsterdam right after junior high? #not sure how long he was there but somehow i'm under the assumption he never went to finnish high school? 🤔 #which is cool i mean neither did i lol #which is why i also know shit-all about high school chemistry classes 😂 hence i tried to not include that stuff too much #i guess it could've been any class but i needed them to sit together every week #so chemistry lab partners it is ig #btw pls don't ask me what the deal with aleksi and joel is lol i couldn't be bothered to think that much in detail 🙈 #just assume it wasn't anything completely terrible and that aleksi didn't do it to be a douche and joel eventually forgave him 😇 #also: i promised ju i'd make our shy schoolgirl olli uwu at least in the tags so here ya go #shy schoolgirl olli: uwu <3 #also also: in a perfect world i would've made this even longer and more slow-burn #but alas for the purposes of the advent calendar i had to lower my standards a bit 🤧

[jtownraindancer]

Ace's TURИ for Burn Rewatch: Eternity How Long

#there's so many good moments this episode but i had to go with this one #love love love when he's sneaking #burn gorman #major hewlett #edmund hewlett #edmund my dearest 🔭 #my beloved starboy 🌌 #he's such an ass in this one; my yankee heart wants to throttle him ♡ #turn #turn washington's spies #amc turn #my gifs #man i need a tag for burn now fuck #the burn collection #another brown eyed boy ruining my life #h a n d s #love all the slow panning in this series for pretty much everyone ♡ #like hell YES show off the costume and prop designs!!!! #so tempted to do a gifset for each character per episode but atm I'm here for one guy and one guy alone #(simcoe would totally be next though jfc samuel your face is fucking art) #shut up ace

[peonypyxels]

that’s all folks! 🌟

#it's canon dylan and elf are everyone's god parent #also that piC of cori and levi ;-; #if i had actually story posts going instead of just pics this would b the point in time #where sylvie x miles are just ambiguously hanging out as a little more than friends #and everyone else is over it #and they call them out whenever they get a chance to for doing cute couple shit unconsciously #we love a slow burn here ok #a painfully long drawn out since 2017 slow burn #ts4 #s4 #s4 edit #sims 4 #s4 legacy #sparks #sparks legacy #gen 5 #gen 6

[boxwinebaddie]

an uncle nina update...i mean UPHATE!

okay there's a couple lines at the bottom i didn't fill in...i don't want to talk about it...that's a problem for future me idc idc! it's done, okay?

BUT AT LONG....LONG LAST....I AM FINALLY....FINISHED fuCkiNG WRITING RM6 AND AM EDITING AND FORMATING IT ON AO3!

when i tell you there are tears in my tears...oh my god...please, clap.

i am going to start deletion progress of probably 1k worth of spaces between lines ( whoever decided that when you paste a google doc it double spaces everything...please meet me in the pit, motherfucker! ) running a fine tooth comb through everything, figuring out where certain italics/blockquote goes, writing the sh*t i put off at the end & crying to taylor swift loudly over the sound of my cracking fingers.

but first...i am taking...a nap....or i'm gonna try. #freeunclenina

because i pulled a writer girl all-nighter.

...and brain hurty so, so bad.

-uncle nina, making miracles happen on the last day of nanowrimo

p.s. if you see me on here answering ask memes and being a circus clown, please close your eyes...i miss her ( my not-stressful inbox )

#call my hands and eyes shelley marsh the way they b burning #i cant believe judgement day is finally upon me #and by that i mean everyones gonna judge me for my mess #which its kind of a mess but u know what! *white mom vc* bless that mess! she is chaotic and very cute to me #i worked...hard on her #when i tell you i had to split...my original idea...into three parts...i need to go to jail #or to the insane asylum or sleep and jail again #but this is gonna be part 1 of either 2/3 i guess #buckle up #there would be less parts but i gave us a little ravenstan pov as a treat because you all waited patiently #but its mostly kyle...in rm its crazy kyle season sorry #but uh! you're all always nice to me but please be kind to me and i'm sorry if its not out by tonight #i am literally so tired like i'm typing so slow rn because my brain is so drained and my hands are strained #BUT ITS COMING GUYS! I HOPE ITS WORTH IT WHEN IT'S HERE BECAUSE WOW...I AM LAUGHING AND CRYING

[marlenacantswim]

Daisy Steiner and "The Typewriter Strikes Back" for the fic ask :)

The Typewriter Strikes Back

Tim's lips leave Daisy's feeling warm, and with poised dramatic steps, he roams onto the elevator, finally turning to her one last time.

"I love you!" She cries, hands and arms utterly helpless as they hug the typewriter close.

Tim smirks— "I know." They hold eye contact through the very last second, all the way until the doors break their line of sight and the elevator begins its descent.

A strange, guttural, chittering noise escapes Brian's throat, until he coughs it away. "Sorry, allergies. The dust—"

"No, I know, Brian," Daisy assures, "'S alright."

He bounces on his heels. "So are— are you two, erm..." His hand gestures around his chin— "You two really a couple now?"

Daisy's expression hardens, before a realization hits. An "Oh!" preludes her laughter, which would sound forced if it were coming out of anyone else's mouth. "B-because we? Oh ho, no, no no no, that was just a reference! Y'know, Star Wars. The scene where— no, you've seen it." With her hands occupied by the heavy contraption, her impassioned gesturing comes through in erratic sways of her whole body instead. She wiggles her head back and forth, seemingly pleased; "Just a tiddly bit between friends, yeah? Mates. Chaps. He likes to do it whenever he descends. Elevators, escalators— one time he did it down the stairs, but he completely toppled because he, um... went down backwards!"

Brian's eyes narrow: "The whole exchange?"

"Starting from the kiss!"

"E— every time?"

#bro they are so oblivious it's not even funny #i know it's more than five lines and veeeery late after you initially sent the prompt #but i did it!!! #you know with that title i had to do a star wars #this scene would happen like two episodes before they realize they've caught feelings #slow burn but it's burning HOT #anyways if you're reading these tags #this is for the 'send me a pairing + a title and i'll reply with five lines of an imaginary fic' thing i reblogged a while back #and honestly? i'm still totally down to write more of these #like from here for the rest of time feel free to just randomly send me prompt asks #these are SO fun!!! #running my mouth #ask and you shall receive #made this with my hands #sometimes i write #spaced