#I have been trying to get down a design I’m happy with for ages I think I’ve finally done it

[digitalmyyth]

Throwing around a Peter the Panda design

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.1

Chapter One: Hide Your Heart From Sight

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Celebrities, Starstruck,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Welcome to this disaster of a fic that I have constantly daydreamed about. Logistically, yes, it is so improbable and unrealistic— but there’s a 0.001% chance that it could happen… to you. It’s nice to wonder and dream. I like wondering. Granted, I’ve never worked in production ever… I am studying advertising and arts soooo that’s as much knowledge I have tehe. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: It Could Happen To You by Laufey

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The hum of the plane’s engines filled the air as you settled into your seat, trying not to fidget. You glanced at your boarding pass again, as if to double-check you weren’t hallucinating. Seat 3B—business class. Marvel had spared no expense for the production team’s travel, but you still couldn’t quite believe you’d be flying so comfortably.

What shocked you even more, though, was the man lowering himself into the seat next to yours: Pedro Pascal. Yes, that Pedro Pascal. The man whose movies you’d watched obsessively before joining this production, the actor who somehow seemed both unattainably larger-than-life and heartbreakingly down-to-earth.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Looks like we’re seatmates.”

You froze for a moment, then managed a weak, “Hi.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete idiot.

“You’re with the crew, right?” Pedro asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you stammered, “I’m just a production assistant. It’s my first big project.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed. “First time working on a Marvel movie? How’s it going so far?”

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, relaxing slightly under his easygoing demeanor. “I mean, it’s been amazing, but also kind of overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and everyone’s so talented. I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“I get it,” Pedro said, nodding. “First big gig can be a lot. But hey, you’re here. That means someone saw something in you, right?”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Pedro asked you about your favorite movies, your hobbies, and how you’d gotten into production work. You told him about your love for art direction and set design, your dream of one day being a production designer, and your side passion for writing and music. When you mentioned you played guitar and sang, he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to play something for us on set sometime,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’d probably die of embarrassment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he replied, his tone light but mischievous.

By the time the plane landed, you were buzzing—partly from the conversation and partly from the fact that you’d just spent hours talking to Pedro Pascal as if he were an old friend.

The buzz quickly faded when you arrived at the hotel. You stood in the lobby with the rest of the crew, listening as the location manager, Duncan, argued with the front desk staff. Apparently, there’d been a mix-up with the bookings. The hotel was overbooked due to a telecommunications conference, and somehow, you’d been assigned to share a suite… with Pedro Pascal.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered to yourself, your anxiety spiking as Duncan tried to sort things out. But no matter how much back-and-forth there was, the conclusion remained the same: there were no other rooms available.

“Look,” Pedro said finally, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing if she’s okay with it.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. “I…”

“Hey,” he said gently, noticing your hesitation. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. “Look at me. I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Duncan, who looked as stressed as you felt. Finally, you nodded. “I’m fine with it if everyone else is.”

“Great,” Pedro said, flashing you a reassuring smile. “It’s settled, then.”

Duncan pulled you aside before you headed to the elevators. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his tone fatherly.

“Yes,” you said, forcing a smile. “Is there any kind of form I need to sign, or…?”

“No, it all falls under the NDA from your employment,” he assured you. “But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.”

You thanked him and joined Pedro in the elevator. The ride up to the suite was silent, save for the soft dinging of the floors passing by. When you finally stepped into the room, you couldn’t help but gape. It was a spacious suite with two bedrooms on opposite sides, a small kitchenette, and a cozy living area.

“This isn’t so bad,” Pedro said, dropping his bag by the door. He turned to you, his expression kind. “Do you have a preference for which room?”

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag. “Um, no, you can pick.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he insisted, his tone playful.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the room on the right. “I’ll take that one.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

As you unpacked in your room, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You were sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal. For at least a week. And somehow, you had to act like a normal, functioning human being the entire time.

You took a deep breath and flopped over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Letting out a huff of air in disbelief, you muttered to yourself, “This has to be some sort of dream… or prank, right?”

Placing both hands over your face, you rubbed it in exasperation. “Get your shit together, girl. No screwing things up, no more internal freakouts. He’s a person, like you. Mhm, sure. Yup. Totally fine.”

You sighed deeply, trying to convince yourself of your own words. The suite was spacious and nicely furnished, with plenty of room to keep your distance—but that didn’t stop your overactive imagination from running wild. Every interaction felt loaded with the possibility of embarrassing yourself, but you swore you’d keep it together.

To say people around the production crew had heard about your new roomie was an understatement.

The day before shooting began, you attended a pre-production meeting that covered everything: call sheet details, blocking and camera movement, technical requirements, and a bunch of safety protocols. It was standard procedure but felt ten times more overwhelming knowing your friends would tease you mercilessly.

You sat with your friends from the art department, trying to focus, but they weren’t making it easy. Archie, one of the lead set designers, leaned over with a smirk. “So, how’s life as Pedro Pascal’s roomie?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I—it’s not… it’s just temporary,” you stammered, fiddling with the edge of your notebook.

Stephanie, a costume designer with an endless supply of sass, raised an eyebrow. “Temporary or not, it’s the stuff of rom-coms, babe. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined a meet-cute scenario in that suite.”

“I have not!” you protested, though your flaming cheeks betrayed you. 

Will, an art director with a love for stirring the pot, chuckled. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little… serendipitous? You, a huge fan, sharing a suite with the guy? Sounds like fate to me.”

“It’s not fate,” you insisted, trying to deflect. “It’s a logistical mistake, that’s all.”

Max, the trainee set dresser, chimed in with a grin. “Yeah, but a logistical mistake that’s got everyone talking. Even Steve heard about it, and he’s usually the last to know anything.”

Steve, the lighting technician, shrugged. “What can I say? Word travels fast. I’m just here to see how long it takes for Pedro to find out about your… fandom.”

“Oh my god, can we not?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.”

Rebecca, a fellow production assistant and one of your closest friends, patted your shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he seems like the kind of guy who’d find it endearing. Besides, you’ve been professional so far, right?”

You nodded hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t said anything stupid yet.”

“Yet being the keyword,” Sophie teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Patricia, always the voice of reason, smiled warmly. “Just be yourself. You’re great at your job, and Pedro’s just another actor. A very charming actor, sure, but still just a person.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” you said, feeling slightly more grounded. But the anxiety still lingered, especially with everyone’s teasing reminders of your not-so-secret crush.

As the meeting wrapped up and you headed back to your tasks, you couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling inside you. Sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal might’ve been a logistical mistake, but it was quickly turning into one of the most unreal experiences of your life.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL, LONDON — NIGHT

Dinner with the cast and crew had been lively, filled with laughter, and far too many knowing glances sent your way by your friends. The teasing hadn’t stopped, even over plates of pasta and glasses of wine.

Archie had leaned over at one point, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when Pedro walks out of the bathroom shirtless? Swoon or faint?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Archie!”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a valid question.”

Stephanie smirked. “She’s probably rehearsing her ‘I’m totally cool and unaffected’ face right now.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Rebecca grinned. “No, you don’t. But seriously, just enjoy the moment. How many people can say they’ve shared a hotel room with Pedro Pascal?”

By the time the group had wandered back to the shuttle, your cheeks were sore from laughing, and your nerves were only slightly calmed. But as the cold London air nipped at your skin, you found yourself longing for the warmth of the hotel.

Your teeth chattered as you stepped off the shuttle, clutching your coat tighter around you. You didn’t like the cold very much, and London was very, very cold.

The moment you entered the hotel lobby, the warmth began to seep into your body, and you let out a sigh of relief. The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, your mind finally shutting down after a long evening of socializing. By the time you reached your room, you were operating on autopilot.

Tapping your keycard to the door, you quietly pushed it open, careful not to disturb Pedro if he was already asleep. It was just past 9:30 p.m., and you knew the early call time tomorrow would have him resting early.

You shut the door softly behind you, locking the deadbolt before shuffling into the room. You removed your coat, scarf, and shoes, swapping them for the fuzzy slippers you’d packed. The room was dimly lit, and you moved quietly, hoping not to make too much noise.

“Oh, you’re back.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching your chest as your heart tried to escape it. Whipping around, you found Pedro lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands and a soft, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a plain white tee and gray sweatpants, his square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked entirely too comfortable—like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were still awake,” you said, voice breathless as you tried to recover from the scare.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You were so quiet coming in, I thought maybe you were sneaking around.”

You set your things on the small table by the door, giving him an exasperated look. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” He tilted his head, watching you with that relaxed air that somehow made you feel completely exposed. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” you said, shrugging as you moved toward the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water. “Everyone was in high spirits, and the food was great. We took a little walk around the city before heading back.”

Pedro closed his book, setting it on the coffee table. “Sounds nice. London at night can be magical.”

“Yeah, it was.” You paused, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Though, I think I underestimated just how cold it gets here. My teeth were chattering the whole way back.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. “Didn’t bring a warm enough coat?”

“I thought I did, but apparently not. I’m not built for this kind of weather,” you admitted with a laugh, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to stave off the lingering chill.

Pedro stood, crossing the room with an easy grace that made your breath hitch. “Well, we can’t have you freezing, can we?” He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and held it out to you. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple gesture. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just get cold really easily. Besides, I’ll warm up eventually.”

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not a big deal.”

Reluctantly, you took the blanket, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. It sent a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fabric now wrapped around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

“Better?” he asked, stepping back to give you space but still watching you with that disarmingly kind expression.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “Much. Thanks, Pedro.”

He smiled again, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there. But then he broke the silence, his voice light. “So, did they give you a hard time at dinner?”

Your face heated instantly. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “I heard some of the cast talking earlier. Apparently, your friends in the art department have been… teasing you about the room situation.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh no. What exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing incriminating,” he said with a laugh. “Just that they’re convinced this is some kind of meet-cute scenario straight out of a rom-com.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone easy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Your hands dropped to your sides, your eyes wide. “Flattering?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to know someone thinks sharing a room with me is worth all that excitement.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process the fact that Pedro Pascal—Pedro Pascal—was standing in front of you, teasing you in the most charming way possible.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big day.”

He gave you one last smile before retreating to his side of the suite, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a head full of thoughts you were too scared to unpack.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

You woke to the soft chime of your alarm, the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains. Shuffling into the bathroom with a yawn, you turned on the shower, letting the warm water coax you into wakefulness. You placed your phone on the counter, tapping on a playlist to fill the small space with soft, melodic tunes—comforting background noise that kept your mind from spiraling too early in the day.  

After your shower, you toweled off and began your morning routine. Skincare applied with practiced ease, makeup brushed on with care, you avoided the mirror for too long, focusing instead on the growing anticipation of the day ahead. Pinning your ID to your lanyard, you glanced at your phone again.  

The group chat with your team was buzzing:  

Archie: "We’re fifteen minutes out. Don’t keep us waiting, queen 👑."  

Rebecca: "Text when you’re coming down!"  

Max: "Coffee run? Pls? 🙏"  

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tapped out a quick reply, your fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before you switched apps.  

Your heart did a little stutter as you opened your browser—a Joel Miller fanfic you’d been obsessing over still lingering on your screen. You skimmed the most recent chapter, your thumb pausing to scroll as you half-laughed at the absurdity of sneaking in a few paragraphs before a full day on set. You switched to the chat thread with your online friends, who were deep in a heated discussion about whether Joel would be the type to cook breakfast for his partner. You couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing in a quick, “He’d definitely make pancakes and act like it’s no big deal,” before locking your phone and setting it on the counter.  

Moving on autopilot, you padded into the small kitchenette, barefoot and still humming softly to the tune stuck in your head. You set the coffee machine to brew, pulling out a couple of mugs, a jar of Nutella, and some bread. Your hands moved with muscle memory, spreading the hazelnut spread on toast and slicing up a handful of fruit without a second thought. It wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the air that you realized you’d made two plates of toast—one for you and one for Pedro.  

The realization struck at the same moment you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you.  

“Morning.”  

His voice was low and warm, still carrying the huskiness of sleep. You froze, phone in one hand, butter knife in the other, as you turned to see Pedro leaning against the doorframe. His hair was adorably tousled, and he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, and you nearly dropped your phone in a panic.  

“Good morning,” you managed, your voice a little too high-pitched as you fumbled to lock your screen. The thought of him catching even a glimpse of what you’d been reading was enough to make your cheeks burn.  

Pedro glanced at the counter, taking in the toast, coffee, and neatly sliced fruit. “You made breakfast?”  

“Oh, uh—yeah.” You set your phone down and gestured awkwardly toward the spread. “I made you some coffee and toast with Nutella. I wasn’t sure if you’d want that, and there’s fruit, too. I was just about to cut some more, but obviously, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, and—”  

“Hey.” Pedro’s soft chuckle cut through your rambling, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”  

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in his voice. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing, really.”  

He moved past you to grab a mug of coffee, the proximity sending your pulse into overdrive. As he poured himself a cup, you noticed his shoulders relaxed and his movements unhurried. He took a sip and let out a small, contented sigh.  

“Perfect,” he said, glancing over at you with a grin. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”  

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy. “I’m pretty sure this doesn’t count as spoiling. It’s just toast.”  

“Yeah, but it’s good toast,” he teased, holding up a slice as if to emphasize his point.  

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing slightly. The moment felt impossibly domestic—like a scene out of one of those fanfics you’d been reading. Only this time, it wasn’t Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with you. It was Pedro.  

And that was somehow even more surreal.  

Pedro leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both hands. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. “So,” he started, his voice warm and casual, “what were you so engrossed in on your phone earlier? You looked ready to throw it out the window when I walked in.”  

Your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it cool, even though you were fairly certain your face was now several shades of red. “Oh, nothing,” you lied, brushing a crumb off the counter. “Just the group chat. You know how chaotic they are.”  

Pedro tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mm-hmm. Sure it wasn’t something more... intriguing?”  

You swallowed hard, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. “Intriguing?”  

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief over the rim of his mug. “You tell me.”  

“It’s nothing!” you blurted out, a little too defensively. “Just—just boring stuff. Work stuff.”  

“Work stuff,” he repeated slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Because people laugh at boring work stuff while making toast.”  

You groaned, setting your mug down as you ran a hand over your face. “Can we not? Please? I’m already mortified enough.”  

Pedro chuckled, the sound low and teasing but not unkind. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go... for now.” He set his mug on the counter and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me a story later. Deal?”  

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Depends on how much coffee you’ve had by then. I might need you slightly less smug for that conversation.”  

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Smug? I prefer charming. But I’ll take it under advisement.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The playful banter made the room feel lighter, warmer.  

By the time you both finished your coffee, the atmosphere had shifted into something comfortable and easy. You quickly rinsed the dishes, your hands moving on autopilot as Pedro lingered nearby, chatting about everything and nothing.  

As you dried your hands, your phone buzzed on the counter, and you glanced at the screen.  

Rebecca: “Bus is almost there. Better get your cute butt down here!”  

You shot back a quick reply: “On my way.” Turning to Pedro, you grabbed your bag and gestured toward the door. “I’ve got to head down. My shuttle’s waiting.”  

Pedro grabbed his own bag and trailed after you. “I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got my own ride coming, but they’re always late.”  

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the hum of its descent filling the silence. The confined space suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken tension.  

Pedro stood close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you pressed the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, hoping it would anchor you somehow.  

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost intimate in the stillness of the elevator. “What’s the plan for today?”  

You glanced at him, his brown eyes watching you closely, the curve of his smile softer now. “Same as usual, I guess,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Make sure everything runs smoothly while you and everyone else look good on camera.”  

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You make it sound so simple, but I know you’re the one holding it all together.”  

His words caught you off guard, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I just do my job.”  

“And you do it damn well,” he said, his tone sincere now, no teasing edge in sight.  

The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby, breaking the moment. Pedro gestured for you to step out first, and you did, your pulse still racing.  

“Thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure if you were thanking him for his compliment or just for letting you escape the charged space of the elevator.  

As you spotted your shuttle waiting outside, you turned to him, suddenly aware of how reluctant you were to leave. “I’ll see you on set?”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. See you soon.”  

You stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your face as you walked toward the shuttle. But even as you climbed aboard and found a seat, your mind was still back in that elevator, replaying every glance, every word, every spark.

End Notes:

Oh hi! I missed doing these silly bits; I thought to bring ‘em back. But, don’t worry, I’ll try to yap less haha

Yes, it’s super cliche, cheesy, unrealistic, and practically a hallmark movie in the making. But that’s the fun part in fanfiction and writing, it’s all made up and no one here is allowed to “yuck” each other’s “yum” if you know what I mean. ;)

Also, I have no idea how production for film works so I’m researching stuff and making stuff up along the way pls no one come after me T^T

Weirdly enough, I saw a reddit post from someone who works at the front of the hotel desk and they say the one-bed trope/one-room trope; it actually happens pretty frequently lol so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca

[hargreeves-duncan]

I saw your requests were open and because I'm very hurt/comfort I would like reader to be fives spouse and then the subway happens like the after of everyone learning about it at the house and having to bring up what happened with not only Diego but us as well who thought we [Five and spouse] were happy??? Immaculate. Also I hope you're doing well stay hydrated!

a/n: thank you so much for your request, i am super hydrated, thank you :)) i really loved writing this (even if it is a little angsty) and i hope you love it just as much

summary: you thought you were happy together - if only you knew how wrong you were.

warnings: mentions of canon compliant violence, cheating (obviously), lila x five😬

word count: 2.1k

pt. 2

Christmas Eve would always be a time of joy and merriment for many, and the same had been true for you for all of your life. Even when you’d spent a few decades working as a trained killer for The Commission, the holidays were always a normality and a comfort that you could fall back on, without fail. In between snapping necks and pulling triggers, you’d seen the snow covered hills of Lapland and the warm festivities of Munich’s Christmas Markets and now that you were retired, you could enjoy it all with your family.

The family that your husband, Five, had brought you into. Whilst there was some initial shock from the Hargreeves’ siblings as they found out that not only had their brother aged forty-five years without them on a post-apocalyptic Earth but that he had actually gotten engaged in that time, slowly but surely, they had let you in. They were chaotic, at the best of times, but you loved them all the same and you knew that you’d do anything to protect them now. They were your family, just as much as Five was.

You’d met Five at the commission, when he was worn down by a lengthy four decades of solidarity and you’d pieced him back together. You’d shown him that living wasn’t just a means to an end and that it could be good and loving. You’d joked at the time how silly it was, that the two of you had found love at an organisation designed to kill, for the most part, innocent people. He’d said he’d do it a thousand times over if it meant he’d get to you.

After spending the last few years trying and failing to stop the apocalypse, you weren’t quite those people anymore. Instead, you had grown and evolved but you’d never had the luxury of waiting around for the two of you to settle down and retire like you’d both hoped for. So, when you’d come to this timeline, Five powerless, you hadn’t looked back. You’d gotten married, whilst you knew you still could and you’d lived the last six years in bliss. Five had softened now that there wasn’t the weight of impending doom on his back and you both got to be enveloped in the love you’d worked so hard for without consequence.

Tonight, you had gone over to Diego and Lila’s place to spend the evening with your extended family. At some point in the evening, Five and Lila had reappeared from whatever they’d spent the day doing and since he’d got back, Five had been unsettled. His eyes kept flickering over to Diego and Lila, constantly. He looked seething. Your husband had never been one for public displays of affection and Diego’s increasingly wandering hands must’ve been beginning to anger him, you thought. Five frowned, how was he supposed to enjoy his evening with that sitting across from him? 

Noticing his restlessness, you slipped your hand over his comfortingly, feeling the cool metal of his wedding ring slide over your palm, “You okay?”

Five glanced back at you. He cleared his throat and nodded, smiling gently at you, “I’m alright, love.”

Occasionally, Lila would look over at him. She looked shy and timid under Diego’s touch, a look you’d never seen on her before. Lila’s love had always been performative and outlandish. Her affection was everywhere and to see her look so strained in his company was strange. It was entirely foreign to watch it play out and it didn’t match the Lila Hargreeves you’d come to know. Diego noticed too.

Even Luther noticed the tension in the room. He watched as Five rolled his shoulders for the hundredth evening, “What is with you tonight? You’ve barely said a word, Five, when does that ever happen?”

So, it wasn’t just you then? You thought to yourself. A ball of anxiety began to develop in your stomach. You searched Five’s face for the root of the problem. Five sighed and adjusted himself, “It’s called thinking, Luther. You should try it sometime.”

A flurry of shock and distaste shot up from everyone as he said that and you shrank slightly in your seat. Five bristled as you got closer. You frowned.

“I do think, I think you’re an asshole.” Luther clapped back, pouting as he leaned back against the couch. At this moment, you happened to agree. Five didn’t brush you away, physically, but he kept his eyes forward, anywhere but down at you. You felt dread in the pit of your stomach.

Five continued to avoid your gaze as Allison sighed, brushing her hair from her face, “Okay, can we not do this right now?” Her eyes drifted pointedly to Claire, Grace and the twins in the corner of the room, happily occupying themselves with toys and the tv which displayed a graceful ballerina one of the girls was currently trying to imitate.

“No, let’s. Let’s do this now.” Five said, smiling bitterly at her as he stood from the couch and dropped your hand.

You sighed, sitting forward, “Five-”

“Five, it’s gonna be okay.” Lila interrupted, smiling reassuringly from where she sat. Your head swivelled around to her, in time with Diego’s, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you had the chance to question Lila, Five smiled sarcastically at you all, moving his hand to cut her off, “No, it’s not gonna be okay.”

Diego shot from his seat, chuckling, “Hey, come on, man. Don’t talk to my wife like that. Not tonight. Not on Christmas.”

Five squares up to him, broadening his shoulders and raising his eyebrows at his brother, “You going to do something about it, fuckface?”

An uproar of protests from all of the others. Your eyes widen as things begin to escalate and you stand up, reaching for his arm, “Five!”

He glances back at you. Diego scoffs and steps closer, prodding Five’s chest, “Yeah, I’m gonna K-I-C-K your A-S-S, man.”

“Oh wow, somebody’s passed the first grade.” Five says sarcastically, still not backing down. 

“Five.” You say again, more forcefully as you step up to them. Lila gets up and steps between them, putting her hands on each of their chests and pushing them away from one another. Your eyes flare as you watch her fingers skim Five’s chest. They follow her hand up to her wrist and-

“What is that?” You ask, reaching for her wrist. A silver bracelet, woven like vines, dangles from her arm. You roll your sleeve back, looking at your own bracelet. The one that Five had given you on some anniversary or other, he’d had it made especially for you - strung together with gold, because silver was too trivial for someone like you, he’d said.

The bracelet felt trivial altogether as you looked at its pattern now, beside Lila’s - practically identical to your own. Cheaper, yes, but still like yours, “What’s what?” Lila asked innocently, taking her wrist back.

“That thing on your wrist.” Diego’s eyebrows furrow as he takes Lila’s wrist and he glances between your wrist and Lila’s, “You hate bracelets. You traded the one that I got you for Valentine’s last year to the pawn shop. What…”

“Where did you get it?” You demand, looking her in the eye with a determination that you haven’t felt in years. Lila stands there guiltily, leaning in Five’s direction and your heart sinks. Diego watches, the dots connecting in his mind.

“Did you give her that?” He asks, stepping closer to Five. Lila reaches out for him and he shrugs her off, “No, answer the question, Five. Did you give her that?”

“I made it.” Five answers, hands slipping into his pockets. He’s casual, as if it means nothing, and that only makes it hurt so much more because if this gift to Lila means nothing, then you must mean even less.

“You made it… for her?” You say, hurt and grief for the life you’ve had together seeping into your voice. And just when you think he can’t get any more cruel…

“Who does it look like I made it for?” He says, looking over at you, and your heart shrivels up painfully. A dull ache blooms in your chest and you can’t even form a response because he’s being so cutting and it’s something you’ve never had from him before.

Diego steps up, pressing a hand to your arm and giving it a gentle squeeze as he pushes you back. He takes a breath and looks between Lila and Five, biting his lip, “Is there something going on between you two?”

The two stare silently for a moment and Lila’s voice grows soft as she looks at her husband, “Diego-”

Diego holds his hands up and turns away, “Holy shit… Holy shit, I was right!” He says, pointing at them both, his voice a mix of anger and disappointment in the people he’d trusted.

“Book club, a- all this time, you- you were cheating on me with…” He can’t even get the words out properly as he looks at them, his stutter resurfacing as his emotions get the better of him. He looks over at you, your eyes widen further, if that’s even possible as you realise things for yourself.

“Oh my god… oh my god, I am a complete and utter fool.” You say, laughing in shock as you mentally take a step back from the last few months.

This is what you got for letting your guard down, you supposed, “I can’t believe you… why did I never… you were never doing research, were you? You were off with her.”

“Now, just wait-” Five starts, holding his hands up and trying to approach you at the same time that Lila says, “No, we weren’t cheating on you. At least, not when you thought we were…”

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, scoffing and folding your arms over your chest.

“It means that, for us, it’s been seven years. I blinked us to the subway and we got stuck down there.” Five said, stepping forward.

“Please, tell me you’re joking.” You say, shoulders dropping as your heart clenches, all of your defences falling.

“Love, I wish I was.” He says tenderly, stepping closer to you again. He takes a deep breath, “We were lost for seven years, Y/N.”

Seven years. He’d spent almost as much time with her as he had with you. Were you really that disposable? You’d thought that things were good between the two of you, great even, but the moment he’d been out of your sights, he’d done this…

Breaking down, you sit back on the couch, putting your head in your hands as you blink back tears. Five sighs, sitting beside you, “We went through a lot of timelines and I promise, I never stopped trying to get home, you know I never would, but… I got tired. Tired of failing over and over and I had to stop.”

“I wouldn’t have given up.” You say, drying your eyes as you look up at him again. Five smiles tiredly, shaking his head.

“You can’t know that.” He says, looking over at you. His eyes are soft, but it doesn’t stop the harsh sting of what he says. 

“I can, because I love you, it’s as simple as that.” You protest, looking at him brokenly, “You wouldn’t have stopped looking if you loved me the way that I love you.”

He rubs his thumb over his clenched knuckles, sighing, “Don’t say that. You know that I love you.”

“Of course. And her? What about Lila? Do you love her too?” You challenge, eyes flitting over every pore in his face, seeking an answer or an apology, anything that isn’t going to confirm what you so deeply fear; that he doesn’t love you anymore.

Lila perks up from where she’s standing beside Diego. Diego’s face drops and all either of you can do is watch as your partners lock eyes with one another instead of you. Five sighs, glancing back at you, “Y/N, now is really not the time for-”

“Do you love her?” You ask again.

He glances between the two of you and sighs again. It feels like that’s all he’s capable of doing right now, sighing. You want to scream or yell or cry because that isn’t fair, he doesn’t get to be frustrated or hurt when this is his fault and you shouldn’t be feeling bad for him when he looks so defeated but you just can’t help it because it’s Five, your Five, and you’ve never known anything else but wanting what’s best for him.

He parts his lips, about to speak, before Claire interrupts from where she’s sat on the floor, “Hey, grown-ups! Look at the TV! Isn’t that Uncle Ben?”

Five stands up to look with the other Hargreeves and you steady yourself. This is okay, you think, you can let things go on as normal. Just for a little longer.

[multifandomgirl08]

A Year to Celebrate [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Format: Social Media

A/N: This is the last Social Media AU I have planned for now when it comes to Mini Verstappen. More may eventually get posted.

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

maxverstappen1

Liked by ynverstappen, victoriaverstappen, and 294,186 others

tagged: ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 Happy Birthday, my love. Another year older, and you grow more beautiful by the day.

View all 835 comments

fan17 Why do I feel like Nico had a hand in designing Y/N's cake?

fan42 Max, please stop simping on main... we get it!

fan87 Does she age at all? Seriously, I don't think she's aged a day since we've been getting pictures of her.

maxverstappen1

Liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo and 756,457 others

tagged: ynverstappen

maxverstappen1 Happy Anniversary, mijn leeuwin. Married for three years and together for 7. We have shared and been through so much in that time. You becoming a mom to our boys, always being able to support each other in whatever we accomplish, and loving me through everything that comes our way.

ynverstappen Love you, mijn leeuw ☺️❤️‍����❤️‍🔥

fan42 New fan here. They've only been together how long??

fan78 Wow, time really does fly by. I still remember when Max first started posting pictures of Y/N to his instagram stories.

fan17 Look at Y/N practicing her dutch!

Feb 2, 2028

ynverstappen

Liked by danielricciardo, victoriaverstappen, and 578,231 others

ynverstappen Going through this beautiful journey one last time

kimi.antonelli When you are no long Mum's youngest child... 😭

View all 452 comments

fan52 Her nails are pink. Does that mean that they're having a girl?

fan28 I would die if they are finally having a girl.

fan37 Is that Max ducking out of the first picture?

fan93 Dude, we know it’s you who got her pregnant. There’s no need to hide.

fan75 Are we just going to pretend not to see what Kimi posted as a comment? When did Max and Y/N adopt him?

July 3, 2028

maxverstappen1

Liked by sophiekumpen, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel, and 625,095 others

maxverstappen1 I've grown up with so many amazing women in my life. From my mom, my sister, to my wife, and now my daughter. My life wouldn't be the same without these women in it.

danielricciardo Whoever owes me money, pay up! I told you all!!!

pierregasly No! You were supposed to have another boy. alex_albon Pretty sure that's not how conception works pierregasly. You can't just choose whether you have a boy or a girl. landonorris Can I mail you your winnings?? Or do you take Cash App?

View all 1,382 comments

fan38 Max is FINALLY A GIRL DAD!!!!

fan57 Confirmation that all of Max's kids have Nic/k names?

fan92 As much as I’m here for Max finally being a girl dad… Y/N finally no longer being the only woman in the house. Now that’s something I can get behind.

fan76 Sophie must be so happy to finally have a granddaughter.

fan20 I hope we get some pics of Max having a tea party with his daughter when she's older. I demand to see photos of Max staring the camera down in a tiara.

fan45 Is Max trying to beat Checo in having children as well?

Nov 20, 2028

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127, @mysticalnightenthusiast, @green-thots, @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp, @ellelabelle, @lilypat, @dreamercrowd

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you write about Konig and stepmother! Reader. When he came back to visit his father in his hometown after years of deployment and he saw stepmother!reader who is young and curvy with large breasts and then...they fuck=))) Not forcing, love your writing btw

This is such a hot idea 😮‍💨I had so many ideas so I just had to pick one and write! Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy the story! Have a great day♥️

König x Stepmother!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part2 Part3 Part4

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>cw: fem/ afab reader, step mom, p in v, age gaps, mentions of breeding

2.6k word count

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König sat on his bed in his quarters and yanked his mask off of his face as his hands grasped a wedding invitation for his father’s 4th wedding. König looked at the elegant font and design before rolling his eyes and tossing the invite into the trash. After his father walked out on his mother, he has had no interest to keep up with him. It’s pathetic how a 73-year-old man keeps bouncing from wife to wife. König wouldn’t give this marriage a year. Yet, it was still his father and he made sure to try and make it to his city once he went back home to visit.

Still dressed in his full military uniform he finds himself standing outside of his father’s door. He takes a deep breath as he gets ready to see his dad again and meet whoever was stupid enough to marry the man. His hands go under his mask to adjust it slightly. Deciding to get it over with, he raises his hand and knocks on the door.

The door opens and he expects to see his 6’4 slender and frail old man of a father, but instead he sees you, his new step mom. You open the door with such warmth and radiance it’s as if the sun light behind you was coming from you. He stood there with a blank stare for a moment, trying to process the site before him. His eyes traveling down your frame to see the way your breasts are barely contained within you summer dress, you don’t look a day over 30, even young for König’s 46-year-old self. He swallows hard, no way this is his step mom.

“König?” Your voice smooth like silk with an accent sends a shiver down his spine.

“Ja, and you’re…”

“Y/N,” your hand is so small and delicate within his own as he grabs yours to shake. He tries to control his gaze as they step into the house.

“Your father is just over here,” you say walking ahead of König as you both make your way to the living room. König’s eyes glued to your ass jiggling and the way your hips sway with every step. His mind jumping through hoops trying to understand how his dad could have possibly landed someone as fucking hot as you.

Walking up to his father König holds a hand out for him to shake, his eyes piercing down at the old man with a look of distain.

“Hallo, how have you been old man?” König asks as he sits, his eyes trailing back to his new step mom as she sits on the arm rest next to his dad.

“Great son, have you met my old ball ‘n chain?” Felix hand creeping around your waist.

König suppresses the eyeroll he feels at his dads comment about his new wife. His new soft, big breasted wife.

“I have, she’s lovely.” His piercing pale blue eyes meet your gaze as he says these words. His dad too oblivious to notice the lustful gaze his son was giving his new wife.

A small blush forms on your cheeks as König calls you lovely. You smirk and look over his body. He is massive. A younger, bigger version of Felix. You wonder if everything is bigger.

“Well, I’m happy I finally get to meet you. Felix has told me so much about you.”

“Has he now?” König asks while looking at his father, Felix’s eyes glued to watching the TV.

“Can I get you something to drink König? I’m sure you’re wore out from all of the traveling.” You stand to your feet and smooth out your dress as you wait for his reply.

König’s throat was dry and he most definitely could use something to drink, but he didn’t want water, he wanted you to squirt in his mouth. He shakes his head to snap out of the thought.

“Uh, yes please.” König stands and walks past his father following you into the kitchen. His dad too out of it to even keep interest in a conversation with him, he wonders how you do it.

You walk into the kitchen and tiptoe to get a glass for König when you feel a large hand on your side, making you shiver.

“Here, let me help.” König says casually as if his heart isn’t beating out of his chest from the sensation of touching your waist. His hand resting on the curve of your perfect hour glass shape as his mind begins to wonder how sexually fulfilled you actually are with his father. He quickly pushes the thought aside as he hands you a glass.

“Thank you, König.” You grab the glass from his eyes all the while gazing deeply into his blue eyes. Snapping out of it you turn and go to the fridge as you begin to fill the glass with water. “So, your dad tells me you’re a Colonel?”

“I am,” König eyes you intently wondering why you’re actually here with his dad, you could be with anyone. “How long have you been with my father?” He takes the cup of water from you, your fingers grazing his making him feel a spark.

“A little over four years now.” You reply leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

König’s eyes land on your breasts again before he looks down at his glass and takes a long drink. He couldn’t think of any appropriate questions to ask you. From are your breasts real to can his dad even please you are the only ones bouncing around in his brain.

Just then his dad walks in and pats König on the back, making him jump. König watches as his dad walks past him to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your soft lips. A heat of jealousy rushes over him as he drops his gaze and drinks more water.

“Is dinner almost ready?” Felix asks as his hand remains on your ass.

“It is, I was just getting König a drink.”

“Alright, let’s get eating, I’m tired.” Felix complained as he made his way to the table. König thankful his face is hidden or hid dad would have seen his disgust.

“I’ll help set the table,” König walked to the cabinet you had opened and reached over you to grab three plates.

“Oh, thank you.” He was close and all you could think about was his cologne mixed with his natural musk, finding it enticing.

You set the table with König’s help and sat down to eat. It was painfully awkward. You could tell the strained relationship between father and son was hopeless. Felix has no interest in talking to his son and his son has no interest in forgiving his dad. König’s eyes kept following you the whole time. Watching how your lips wrapped around your fork as you took a bit, the way your breasts rest on the table due to their size. He can’t get enough of you.

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.

Hours pass and König is in the room you set up for him and looking around. He pulls his mask off and begins to undress. He can’t stop thinking of you.  As he drops his pants, his erection is more obvious. He runs his palm over it through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as he walks to the bed and gets under the covers. Looking up at the ceiling he begins to think of you as he slowly began to stroke his cock. Thinking of the way your breasts jiggle with the slightest of movement. He closes his eye and begins to pump his fist over his cock, imagining you riding him and how your breasts would look bouncing. Thinking you and Felix are asleep, he lets out soft moans.

You walk upstairs from getting a late night snack and you can hear soft little moans coming from down the hall, you know its König. Looking ahead at your bedroom door, then over to König’s, you decide to make your way to his room.

Standing outside the door you can clearly hear his hand moving over his cock, soft wet sounds mixed with the blankets rustling. You can hear him moan out your name every few seconds. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

König stops and his eyes go wide as he sees you. A mix of surprise and embarrassment written on his face as he gulps. His eyes travel down your body and notice the silky light pink night gown you’re wearing. The dress clings perfectly to your body, you look like a goddess.

“Y/N…” König says your name with lust and panic in his tone.

“König…” You close the door behind you. Your eyes travel to the part of the blanket that was poking up from his erection.

König froze in place as you slowly started to walk to him. You sit on the bed beside him as you reach out and grasp his erection over the blanket. König lets out a shaky breath feeling your small hand grasp his fat cock.

“Oh Scheiße.” He moaned softly as you squeezed the head of his cock.

“Would you like some help?” You slowly stroke down his cock and watch as his jaw drops.

König begins to nod his head quickly, “Please,” his eyes look into yours almost begging you.

You pull the blanket back to see his boxer briefs pulled down his thighs and his cock out, the foreskin hugging his bright pink tip that’s leaking pre cum. His cock is simply massive. You grab his cock, skin on skin now, your fingers don’t even meet when wrapped around him. König’s breathing quickly at this point watching with anticipation.

You begin to stroke his cock faster pulling quiet moans from König’s lips. You look up at his maskless face and study it, watching the way his face contorts with pleasure; he looks exactly like his dad, but younger.

Without thinking König reached a hand out and cupped one of your breasts over the nightgown. He squeezed gently as he moved his eyes from your hand wrapped around him to his hand on you. Your breast so big and full they spill over his large hands. He has never been blessed to touch such beautiful breasts before. His hand pulls down your night gown to expose your bare breast to him.

Your nipples hard as he reaches out and tugs on one. “Mein Gott, you are so perfect.” He whispers almost as if he didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

He sits up more to lean forward, his lips finding yours and bringing you into a passionate kiss, his tongue finding yours as you softly begin to suck on his. He lets out a soft groaning sound at the thought of you sucking his cock instead. His hand still playing with your nipple as the other holds your waist tightly. Precum leaking on to your hand as he slowly breaks the kiss.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you since the minute I laid my eyes on you.” He growls as he begins to kiss down your neck, biting lightly to not leave marks behind.

He hears you let out the softest little moan and it sends his brain into over drive as he pushes you back on the bed. His mouth hungrily kissed down your neck to your breast as he pulls his underwear all the way off. His mouth latched to your nipple and sucking at it desperately as you moan out running your fingers through his hair. König had been thinking about what this moment with you might be like, and now here he was; ready to show you another reason why he’s better than his dad.

You watch as König slaps his heavy cock onto your wet pussy, it’s been ages since you’ve been fucked- like really fucked. Your legs twitch as his cock rubs over your sensitive clit and it makes him smirk.

“Fuck me already,” you demand pathetically and König chuckles in response.

“Horny little house wife, aren’t you?” He teases as he slips his cock into your tight wet cunt. Instantly your velvety walls began to flutter around his size desperately trying to accommodate him.  You let out a quiet moan as your eyes close, face twisting in pleasure. His cock filling you up to the point of pain, but fuck it felt good. His hands grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs. His cock pressing in until he hits your mushy cervix, your pussy not even able to fit all of him.  

“You like that, huh?” König asks feeling a bit arrogant.

His pins your legs back and begins to just pound into your creamy cunt, his mouth finding your breast as he begins to kiss and bite all over them, no longer worrying about leaving marks on you. He wanted you for his own self. His balls slapping hard against your ass as they tighten from excitement.

Not only did your gummy cunt feel like heaven, the whole taboo situation of you being his step mom was adding to the experience. The thought of filling you with his cum and possibly getting you pregnant making his mind go crazy with excitement.

“Please fuck me!” Your fingers drag across König’s broad back and scratch deeply, leaving bright red marks across his pale skin. Yours legs tremble as they squeeze his side.

“König- I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, cum for me like the needy little step mom you are.” His hand moves to your pussy as his thumb begins to rub to your clit. You melt into nothing as you begin to moan loudly, your body tensing as you feel the rush of euphoria takes over your body.

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the old man up. You really want your husband to see you getting fucked by his son?” He smirks as you cum on his cock. He can feel how wet you get as you squeeze his cock. In this moment Felix isn’t even a thought, all you can think about is König’s cock fucking you.

König grabs a pillow and puts it down beside you before quickly pulling out. He easily manhandles you and flips you over, using the pillow to help lift your ass up. He got behind you, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding his cock that is covered in your creamy thick white cum. Pushing his leaky cock into you slowly he lets out a low sigh. His hands wrap around your ass and squeeze, pulling your cheeks apart as his thumb rubs over your tight asshole.  He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going, his muscles becoming tense as his balls begin to tingle and tighten. Your cunt keeping a tight grip on his cock.

Königs head dropped back and his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he lets out tiny whimpers of pleasure. Without warning, König cums deep inside of your pussy, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.

He pulled out with heavy breath before laying beside you on the bed. You both looked at each other smiling.

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The next morning König goes down stairs to see you wearing black leggings and a simple t-shirt. You were standing in front of the stove making breakfast for everyone. His eyes meet yours and you both smirk at each other.

He sits next to his father at the table exuding a cocky aura. He just fucked his dad’s wife after all. König keeps his eyes on your breast as you walk back and forth, remembering how they looked bouncing as he pounded into you last night.

You don’t know it, but König is already planning a life with you, away from his father. He feels no guilt or remorse, if anything this is just karma for Felix. You abandon his mom; he steals your woman. Fair is fair.

Part2 Part 3 Part 4

[gayaest]

Hey, so I mean this entirely in good faith and just want to see where you're coming from.

When you draw pictures of people (OC), why do you only list their name, age, disabilities, and race (and some other stuff sometimes)? not likes or interests or hobbies or a look into their life? Is there somewhere else for me to find out more?

Personally, I don't find those to be the most interesting things about a character or a person or an object or anything like that, and I don't typically base characters around it (not saying you do, just not sure why else they take precidence over other aspects of their character)

I love your art and hope youu have a nice day!

I’ll try to answer this in the best way possible, but my wording might be off because I am more ill than usual, so bare with me.

1. Experiences with creating Original Characters is not a monolith — what you like to do with characters may not be what another creator likes to do with them. Some people never make backstories for their characters and keep them mainly for designs. Some people like to create backstories, and both of these things can exist and are okay. What you personally find interesting isn’t the same for everyone.

Even if I do have backstories for many of my characters, not all of them are even close to finished yet or even fully fleshed out, I often start with basics and go from there. If you are interested in the backstories of my characters, I have a toyhouse in which I post them.

2. Race, Culture, Age and Disability is a huge part of a lot of people’s lives, I can attest to that for myself. A lot of what I put down as “descriptors” for my characters are for people to get the absolute “bare bones” of who this character is, kind of like a bio on social media. It may not personally interest you, but Culture is a huge aspect on how people develop and think, the way people grow up and who they are around influence their thoughts, likes, dislikes, career, life choices and more. I find that many people from different cultures are often very happy at the representation of their culture being present if done respectfully, and causes a lot of happiness to feel seen.

I have a particular interest in researching humans, cultures, disabilities and diversity. You don’t have to have those interests, the same way I don’t particularly have to have an interest in “likes vs dislikes” of a character.

It would concern me if someone doesn’t care about peoples race or ethnicity, the same way it concerns me when a white person says “well, I don’t see color”, it erases the diverse experience of being human. It erases culture, experience, struggle and more. A lot of POC, myself included, find solace in knowing someone may understand a specific experience of what it’s like growing up a certain way. That we are not alone in our struggles.

And this all relates to Disability as well. Able-bodied people are not going to understand the life of a disabled person they haven’t lived in. Growing up disabled, becoming disabled later in life, in general /being/ disabled is a different way of life than the average person. We have struggles and experiences not everyone can relate to — which means by sharing this in a description of a character — it can actually tell a lot about what they’ve been through and understand.

Other disabled people may not understand what life is like for another disabled person — I have had numerous asks and messages by other disabled people and able-bodied people alike telling me they are happy to see representation of a specific disability, or that they discovered a disability through my artwork and they were able to research it or even apply it to their medical training. This is a huge reason for why I do what I do.

I’m glad this is a question in good faith — Thank you for liking my art, and i hope you have a good day as well.

If you have anymore questions, I have an FAQ:

[starkerscoop]

I just put out a SoulMate au Prompt!

On your birthday, as soon as you hit a certain age, you get to see a glimpse of your soulmate and possible clue as to who they are. And it repeats every year on ur birthday.

Maybe for the first several years Tony never saw anyone. So maybe his soulmate wasn't 18 yet. But then 5 years turn into 10, 15, 20 ( how many u wanna age him up to) so he thinks he doesn't have one.

Tony is getting ready with his friends and tailor, and he goes to check himself out, and he doesn't see himself. He sees Peter.

Now could know him already or not. Peter could be Spiderman or not!

I think it would be a fun idea!

- WinterSpiderPurrs

I know it's been almost two full years but here it is! Thank you for the prompt :)

also on ao3

Tony sighed, running his hands over the burgundy suit he was trying on. It didn’t sit right on him—too stiff, too impersonal—but he could imagine someone else wearing it. Someone standing beside him, fingers laced with his, accompanying him to his birthday party.

Someone he still didn’t have a face for.

Every year, his birthday arrived with the same disappointment. No vision. No glimpse. No confirmation that there was someone out there meant for him. At first, he had told himself his soulmate just wasn’t old enough yet. But as five years turned into ten, then fifteen, then twenty, the hope had faded.

Now, he wasn’t sure he had a soulmate at all.

Loud laughter from the waiting area pulled him from his thoughts. Tony’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t want Rhodey or Happy catching on to the turmoil written all over his face. Forcing himself to turn away from the noise, he faced the full-length mirror instead.

The suit looked just as wrong as it felt.

With a huff, Tony started to turn away, only for a flicker of movement in the glass to freeze him in place.

His breath caught.

His reflection was gone.

Instead, staring back at him was someone else.

Unruly curls, wild and windswept. Pale wrists wrapped in what looked like homemade gadgets, their design so unfamiliar that even Tony’s mind struggled to piece them together.

He leaned in, heart hammering, trying to get a better look—

And just like that, the image vanished.

The mirror once again reflected nothing but his own dissatisfied expression and the burgundy suit he suddenly wanted to set on fire.

Tony blinked.

Once. Twice.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

He had a soulmate.

For the first time in years, something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in his chest, pushing aside the loneliness he’d grown used to carrying.

He didn’t say anything to Rhodey or Happy, who were still waiting for him to pick a suit. This was his, and his alone, to process.

But suddenly, picking out a suit felt meaningless. What did it matter? There was someone out there for him. Destined for him.

And Tony was going to find them.

Tearing off the suit, he pulled his own clothes back on, leaving the discarded fabric crumpled on the floor. He didn’t bother fixing it before striding out to his friends.

“I’m calling off the party,” he announced, cutting off their conversation.

Rhodey blinked. “All the guests have RSVP’d.”

Happy frowned. “And you love parties. Especially your own.”

Tony shrugged, impatience flickering in his eyes. “I’m a reformed man. I’ll take you two to dinner instead.”

Dinner would take less time. He had more important things to do now.

Rhodey and Happy exchanged a weird look, but Rhodey just sighed. “Whatever you want, Tones. It’s your day.”

Tony threw an arm around each of them, steering them toward the exit. They were halfway down the street when the first scream rang out.

They stopped cold.

Panic rippled through the air, the distant sound of chaos surging closer.

Tony’s hand hovered over his watch, instincts taking over.

Something was happening.

And for the first time, his gut told him it might be more important than any fight he’d been in before.

Across the street, a crowd scattered in all directions, their screams echoing off the towering buildings. Something—or someone—had sent them into a panic. Rhodey and Happy instinctively flanked Tony, scanning for the threat.

A car alarm blared as a sedan was flung sideways, skidding across the pavement before slamming into a fire hydrant. A geyser of water erupted, drenching the road. Through the chaos, Tony caught sight of the culprit—a metallic-armed thug in a makeshift exo-suit, stomping forward with all the grace of a wrecking ball.

“Great,” Tony muttered. “Guess it’s work mode now.”

Before he could activate his nanotech, a blur of red and blue shot down from above.

Spider-Man.

Tony barely had time to register the hero’s arrival before the kid launched himself straight at the armored thug, webbing his wrist and yanking hard. The thug snarled, trying to shake him off, but Spider-Man was already flipping over his head, landing a precise kick to the back of his skull.

Rhodey let out a low whistle. “Gotta hand it to the kid. He knows how to make an entrance.”

Tony grunted, eyes narrowing. He’d seen Spidey in action plenty of times before, but something about this moment held him captive. The way the kid moved—fluid, confident, impossibly fast—it felt... familiar.

Then he saw them.

The wrist-mounted devices.

Tony’s stomach dropped.

No way. It couldn’t be.

His mind reeled back to the vision in the mirror—pale wrists, odd gadgets strapped to them. They were different from his own tech, but unmistakably homemade. He had brushed it off at the time, too consumed by the shock of finally seeing his soulmate at all. But now, standing in the middle of a crumbling city street, watching Spider-Man weave between blows, it hit him like a freight train.

His soulmate might be standing right in front of him.

He had no proof, no way to know for sure. But the possibility lodged itself in his chest, refusing to be ignored.

“Tony,” Rhodey barked, snapping him out of it.

The thug had finally shaken off Spider-Man and was now barreling toward them, arms raised.

Tony’s hesitation shattered. Whatever this was, whoever his soulmate turned out to be, he’d deal with that later. Right now, he had a fight to finish.

He pressed his watch. The suit deployed around him in an instant.

“Let’s dance,” he muttered, launching into the fray.

The thug roared, slamming his exo-enhanced fists into the pavement, sending a shockwave rippling through the street. Cars bounced, windows shattered, and the force sent bystanders scrambling for cover.

Tony barely had time to react before Spider-Man shot out a web, yanking him backward just as a streetlight came crashing down where he had stood.

“Seriously, dude? Watch your step!” Spidey quipped, twisting midair before planting both feet against the thug’s chest. The force of the impact sent the villain stumbling, but he dug his mechanical fingers into the asphalt, stopping his fall with brute strength.

“Appreciate the assist, Webs,” Tony called, sending a repulsor blast at the thug’s exposed side. The villain barely flinched.

“Yeah, no problem!” Spider-Man shot a line of webbing to the thug’s wrist, yanking hard to throw him off balance. “But maybe next time, let’s not fight guys built like refrigerators?”

The thug growled and swung wildly. Spidey ducked, flipping over the attack, but the villain anticipated it this time. With terrifying speed, he reached up and caught Spider-Man mid-air, gripping him by the torso with a crushing force.

Spider-Man yelped.

Tony’s heart clenched.

“Gotcha now, bug,” the thug sneered, squeezing tighter. Spider-Man struggled, arms pinned to his sides, legs kicking.

Tony didn’t hesitate—he fired up his thrusters and shot forward.

But before he could reach them, the villain’s other hand gripped the edge of Spider-Man’s mask. In one brutal motion, he ripped it clean off.

The world seemed to slow as Tony took in the face now exposed to the open air.

Brown eyes wide with alarm. A mess of curls he instantly recognized.

Tony’s breath caught.

It was him. The same face he had seen in the mirror. His soulmate.

Something in Tony shifted, like a key turning in a lock he hadn’t known was there. A fierce protectiveness surged through him, drowning out everything else.

His soulmate was in danger.

And Tony Stark did not let the people he loved get hurt.

Before the thug could tighten his grip, Tony fired a concentrated repulsor blast straight at his wrist. The exo-enhanced metal cracked under the impact, sending a jolt through the villain’s arm. His grip faltered just enough.

The kid took advantage.

Despite the pain, he jerked his legs up, planting both feet against the thug’s chest and pushing off with every ounce of strength he had. The force ripped him free from the villain’s grasp, sending him tumbling through the air.

Tony was there in a second.

He caught the kid before he could hit the ground, arms wrapping securely around him as they hovered above the street. The kid gasped, chest rising and falling rapidly, dazed from the lack of oxygen.

Tony tightened his hold.

“Gotcha, kid.”

The boy blinked up at him, eyes wide and unfocused. Tony could see the moment the realization hit—his face flushed slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

Tony didn’t either. His mind was racing too fast.

This was his soulmate. But he had no idea who he was.

And that was something he was going to change.

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, references to past Colin Shea x Female Reader & past Johnny Storm x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking & implied drug use, explicit language, bad boyfriend (Colin continues to be awful, even though we haven't actually seen him since part 2), self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. She's still having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, here it is! As I currently have it planned, this will be seven parts, so we're officially past the halfway point now. This part's a little shorter, but I'm hoping you'll think it's worth it.

Big thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down the new character here! (If you don't remember doing that Carly, it's because it was ages ago 🤣)

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The drive to the restaurant was uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just you. Sitting in the backseat alone, while Curtis and Jensen quietly conversed in the front, you felt ridiculous. You should learn how to drive. You were a grown woman who couldn’t even get herself anywhere—just another way you didn’t know how to be responsible for yourself.

You stared at Curtis in the front seat. It’d been a few weeks since your boundaries conversation. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. He was right. It was better. Cleaner. But you missed being able to talk to him.

Something had changed about the way he watched you though. You would swear that it was more intense now, the way his eyes followed you around the room. And it always seemed like he had something to say, he’d just never say it. He didn’t make any sense.

You took a breath. You were nervous about this lunch. You weren’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was, aside from the fact that Marnie Reynolds had wanted to meet. You hadn’t seen her in years and then she just texted you out of the blue two days ago, asking if you wanted to have lunch. You assumed she was going to pitch you something. Why else would she want to talk? You hoped it’d be something easy to agree to. It would make Wilford and Tanya feel better if someone actively wanted to work with you, at the very least. 

The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place you normally went to. It was nice, but tucked away, not designed for those who wanted to see and be seen. Marnie had chosen it. She was waiting for you at a small table in the back, even more private. She stood as you approached and enveloped you in a warm hug. She was just as glamorous as you remembered, suddenly hit by memories of sitting in her trailer while she let you try on her jewelry. She’d always been so nice to you. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” she said as you both sat down. 

You smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?” 

“Oh, good, good,” she said with a big smile. “Just got back from a shoot in Greece. Happy to be home.” Her eyes lost a little of their luster as she asked, “How are you, darling?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you said. You could tell she wanted you to say more, but you just nodded and shrugged.

“Well,” she looked at you carefully, “I can’t get over how grown up you are. I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll always see you as the sixteen-year-old I met at the table read ten years ago.”

 “You and all of America,” you said dryly before you could think better of it.

Instead of chastising you, she just nodded. “I’m very grateful I didn’t have to grow up so publicly and then have to make that transition to being an adult. I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

You shrugged again. You didn’t really know what to say to her.

“Which, speaking of, I owe you an apology.”

Panic rose in your chest. Oh, god. Had she sold a story about you? Said something private in an interview? Blocked you from a new role? You weren’t sure you could handle one more thing right now. “Oh?” you asked shakily.

She nodded, seriously. “I should have done a better job of keeping in touch with you after we’d finished the movie. I owed you that much. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow, confused.  “That’s fine. You’ve been so busy. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. I mean, you won an Oscar. I know how much work that takes.”

“Mmm,” she said, “and you sent me flowers.”

You shrugged. You just kept shrugging. “Well, you were always kind to me, and I was so happy for you. It seemed like the least I should do.”

 “You were always so sweet. I’m so happy to see that hasn’t changed.”

At the sincerity on her face, you looked down at your menu. You didn’t know what to say to that. 

“How’s your mom?” she asked, her tone strangely cautious. “Is she still your manager?”

“Oh, no. Wilford helped me get a new one when I turned 18. He thought I needed someone more experienced.”

She let out a breath, almost like she was relieved. “I have to admit, I’m happy to hear that.” You gave her a confused look and she continued softly, “She was always so hard on you. It was part of why I always invited you to my trailer. It seemed like you could really use a break from her.” She gave you another impossibly warm smile. “Plus, you were such great company. I loved making that movie with you.”

You couldn’t hide your relief when the server chose that moment to take your orders. You didn’t know what to do with the fondness in Marnie’s eyes. 

Once you were both done ordering, you decided you were ready to talk business. “So, what’s the project?” you asked.

She looked confused. “Project?”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you wanted to pitch me? The reason you asked me here.”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m sorry. There’s no project. I just wanted to see you.”

That didn’t make sense. That she didn’t want to work with you again made sense. No one did, so of course she didn’t either. But then why else were you here? “I don’t understand,” you said quietly.

She let out a sad little sigh. “I’ve seen some of what’s been going on with you, online, and it just seems like you need a friend. I want to be that for you. I think about you more than you know.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

She grabbed your hand over the table. “There’s so much going on for you right now. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, and then to have to deal with it in public too.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at your joined hands on the table. Then, finally, still looking down, “Uh, yeah. I’m having a pretty hard time.”

She squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” 

You finally looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You weren’t sure you could.

She looked at you carefully. “Have you thought about taking a break at all?”

You were reminded of Curtis, sitting on your couch, looking at you so earnestly, talking about taking a year off. You shook the image out of your head. “No,” you said. “It isn’t a good time. My reputation isn’t great right now, so I need to get back out there and show people that I can do the work. I need to fix it.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “that sounds like agent speak.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “he’s right.”

“Remember, though,” she said, slowly, “that you’re a person, too. Not just a career.”

You just looked at her, blankly. Your career had been the most important thing about you since you were nine years old. You didn’t know how to separate the two. Luckily, that was when the server returned with your food, and Marnie graciously took it as a sign to take over the conversation for the rest of your meal. She talked about the movie she’d just finished, how her kids were doing, and the large garden she was planting at home. It was nice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a meal out with a friend like this.

Still, you left the restaurant feeling raw and restless. You weren’t sure what to do with that conversation, the hard parts of it. The way she looked at you like she actually saw you. There was an itch in you now that just made you want to run.

Instead, as soon as you got home, you poured yourself a glass of sangria from the pitcher your housekeeper kept in your fridge and took the latest script Wilford had sent you onto your deck. You could feel Curtis watching you as you moved through the glass doors. That was his job, you told yourself. It was just his job.

The script fucking sucked. It was awful. The opposite of what you wanted to do. But you knew what Wilford would say. Beggars can’t be choosers. This was your fault. You were the one who’d destroyed your reputation. You had to be the one to fix it. And if making shit like this would fix it, then that’s what you had to do. Too many people relied on you for you not to do whatever you could, take whatever paychecks you could get. You hated it. You hated it so much. But you would do it.

You picked up your phone. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was well into the evening now. There was a text from Michelle an hour ago, letting you know she’d left. And a few minutes ago, one from Nikki, a girl you partied with sometimes, that just said ‘Fuck them both!’

What the hell did that mean? Panic began to crawl up your throat and your hands started to shake as you typed your name into Google and clicked on News. Your stomach dropped.  Johnny Storm, that snowboarder you’d barely dated over a year ago, apparently had a podcast now. And the latest episode, posted that day, featured Colin Shea as its guest. Shit. Fuck. You couldn’t even look at what they’d said. There was no point. It was all just the same old bullshit.

You felt tears start to prick at your eyes. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you the fuck alone? You weren’t even that interesting. How could they possibly have anything to talk about?

Fuck that, you thought, as you stormed back into your house. You distantly registered Curtis calling after you, but you didn’t pay any attention. You were too focused. You headed straight up to your bedroom. They wanted something to talk about? You’d fucking give it to them! You charged into your closet and grabbed the sluttiest, shiniest dress you had. Fuck yeah. You could do this. You would be exactly who they wanted you to be. If they wanted a show so fucking badly, you’d give them one.

You ran back downstairs, looking for a particular pair of earrings that a costar had given you as a wrap gift a couple of years ago – huge dangly ones that said Fuck on one ear and You on the other. There was nothing subtle about what you were going for tonight. 

You’d have to think of someone to call, too. Someone suitable for the kind of scene you wanted to make, the kind of big mistake you wanted to fall into. You were so fucking tired of holding it all together. You were done. Your mind immediately landed on Lucas Lee, your costar in that dumb action movie last year. He was awful but so hot. Nothing but trouble and always up for whatever. Perfect.

As you entered your living room, your eyes landed on one of your jewelry boxes on the coffee table. There they were! As you picked up the box, you realized Curtis was sitting by himself on the couch. You saw him take in your short, sparkly dress and grimace. You weren’t in the mood to analyze it. “I’m going out,” you announced. “Have Jensen get the car ready.” 

You were already moving through, headed back upstairs when you heard Curtis rasp, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You turned on a dime. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he said slowly, so calmly you wanted to break something, “that going out right now, in the sort of mood you’re clearly in, would be a very bad idea.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when,” you asked, your voice quiet with seething anger, “is it your job to tell me what to do?”

He shook his head and you didn’t know how to react to how sad he looked. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay home tonight. For your own safety, which very much is my job.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t understand him. He told you you weren’t friends. He was the one who said he was just your bodyguard. So what the hell was he doing now? 

In the moment you stood frozen, just staring at him, he took a cautious step forward. “Did something happen?” he asked barely above a whisper.

You shook your head furiously. You felt like you could barely form words. You were so angry and lost, and scared, and sad, and confused. You were feeling more than you thought your body could contain. And you knew, you knew, the only way to get these feelings out would be to go out and get as wild as you could. And here Curtis was, not letting you. You were afraid you were going to explode. “That’s fine,” you finally got out, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to come with me. Jake neither. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” You took a step towards the opening of the room. “Go home Jake!” you shouted through the house. “I won’t need you tonight!”

Curtis sighed your name. “I’m not going to let you go out by yourself,” he said firmly.

You threw your hands in the air. “Then make up your goddamn mind!” 

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking confused and Curtis turned to him. You took the opportunity to get back to the safety of your room, leaving your security detail to figure their shit out. Once back in your room, you dug through the jewelry box until you found the earrings you were looking for. You heard your back door open and close. Good. Jake, at least, was gone. You knew Curtis would be harder, but you were fucking determined. 

Just as you were opening Uber on your phone, Curtis appeared in your doorway. “What,” you growled.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?!” He said, not quite a yell, but not not that either, as he barged into your room. All of his practiced calm from downstairs was completely gone. “Something bad is going to happen if you go out tonight! It is, I know it is. And I know you can feel it too!”

“Why do you care?!” You shouted at him. “No one else does! Why do you care so much?!”

“You know why!” he shouted back, and took another step toward you, but then suddenly stopped. Much, much quieter, much softer, and with eyes so pleading, he said “You must know.”

You didn’t. You really don’t think you knew until that moment, when the realization slammed into you. Every look, every sigh, all of the moments of him that hadn’t made sense. You took a step back. “What?” you breathed, barely realizing that you were shaking.

He took a step forward to follow you, then stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head at him. “No,” you said. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?!” he asked, incredulous and upset again.

“No!” you shouted, but it was so much weaker now. “I just– Why would– I’m such a fucking mess!” You were starting to cry, the adrenaline of the last half-hour finally leaking out of you, replaced by that same bone-deep exhaustion that you’d had for too long. “I barely have a high school education. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. No one wants to work with me. I am barely keeping it together and everyone knows it. I’m a trainwreck! Why would you–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that you knew he meant. “Why would you have feelings for someone like that?”

 The sadness was back in his face. You looked away, unable to bear it. In your periphery, you saw him take a cautious step forward, then pause. When you made no move to run, he eliminated the distance between you, standing directly in front of you. He slowly, gently, carefully brought one hand up to touch your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know all that and I still love you. Because I also know that somehow, despite everything, you are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. You are so kind. And thoughtful. You let everyone see your soft spots, even when all they do is hurt you. You have every reason to be awful or bitter or mean or any of a thousand things. But you aren’t. It’s all of it, it’s all of those things and the ones you said too. All of it together, that’s why I love you. I love you because you’re you.”

You wanted to sob. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to you before. Not anyone in your family, or a single one of your exes. No one had ever cared enough to say any of that. Except for Curtis. He’d always cared, hadn’t he? Since that first day he’d showed up, when you’d been so scared about the possibility of a stalker, he’d taken such care with you. He was the most caring, thoughtful, beautiful person you knew. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.  You could see his worry, but also the deep conviction with which he’d just said all that to you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore. You surged forward and you kissed him. 

He made a noise of surprise—you didn’t know how he could possibly be surprised after all that—but after just a moment he was kissing you back, bringing both hands up to cradle your head. You were getting your tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was soft and gentle and passionate. You needed more. You needed all of him.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss. You did what you could to brush the tears off your face. You grabbed the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head, then tossed it on the floor. You stood in front of him in the lingerie you’d picked out to fuck Lucas Lee of all people and couldn’t understand how you’d ever been able to think about anyone but Curtis. But you did know how when you stopped to think about it. You’d never been able to fathom that you might deserve this man. That he might actually want you.

He stared at you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re–” you braced yourself for what might come next. So hot or fucking sexy. You’d even gotten beautiful once or twice. He only took a second before he finished his sentence “–incredible,” with such awe on his face that you actually felt your knees go weak. You had to look away. He was too much.

He took your face in his hands again and placed a soft, short kiss on your lips. “But would it be ok if we slowed down?” he asked.

You couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Why?” 

“This is real for me,” he said. “And if we do this, I want it to be real for you too. I want you to be sure. And for now,” he stroked one thumb over your cheekbone, “right now I just want to hold you. Is that alright? If I just hold you tonight?”  

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Sex had always been the best, most important part of any of your relationships. It’d been the biggest thing that any of your previous partners had wanted from you. You weren’t sure you knew how to do it any other way. But he was holding you so gently, looking at you so softly, all you could do was nod. 

He kissed you once more. Then stepped back and started to take off his clothes. You made your way to your bed and got in, watching him as he shed his clothes. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Nothing on any movie set you’d ever been on, any party you’d ever been to could compare to him. 

Once he was down to just his boxers, he crawled in next to you and pulled you close. Your lips touched his shoulder as you asked, barely audible, “You really love me?”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

Taglist is open

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[bl00mingday]

dance the night away, ch.1

summary: you just graduated from the top ranked dancing university in the world, ready to take on whatever came your way. but before immediately getting involved with professional stuff, you wanted to cut yourself some slack. so when you and your group of friends went to South Korea for a trip you definitely weren’t expecting to get recruited while dancing to some random ass kpop dancing challenge. you were baffled when the recruiter uttered the word “EXO” to you, the group that got you into dancing in the first place. so when you accepted the offer you couldn’t help but think “what the hell am i gonna do?”

word count: 2.796

content: age gap (10 years), idol!baekhyun x dancer!reader, swearing, jealousy, will include fluff, angst and smut in the upcoming chapters.

author’s note: hiii!! my first ever post, and i’m happy to say that i feel confident about it. i’m thinking about making it 5 chapters at least. i’ll try to update without long pauses, hope you enjoy ❤️

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

3..

2….

1!!!!

THROW !!!!

everyone threw their caps in the air, a symphony of happy screams, “woo!!!”s and “congratulations!!” reached my ears as i was scrambling to find my cap on the ground. ughhh why did i even throw it in the first place? i spent 5 days working on the top of the cap for it to have a pretty design just to lose it in 5 SECONDS? nuh-uh. i was cursing at myself when i heard my best friend Karina’s voice.

“hey girlll, you lookin’ for this?”

my cap!!! there it was in all it’s glory.

“OH MY GOD YES! thank you so much ‘rina, i was getting worried that someone stepped on it and turned it into dogshit.”

she laughed and added,

“well thank god that you managed to throw it directly on top of my head, how did you even do that? i was 3 rows behind you.”

she tossed me my hard-earned and hard-worked on cap. i laughed, shrugging my shoulders in an “idk man” way. just then i saw natty and chaewon walking towards us. seeing them in their graduation caps and robes was awfully nostalgic and emotional. my mind drifted to when we first met, as a group.

karina was my roommate. the first time i saw her my mind just went “wow.”, she was (and still is) awfully gorgeous. her long wavy dark indigo hair was the first thing that caught my eye. we bonded instantly thanks to her outgoing nature. and then came chaewon. I was playing Just Dance with karina and we needed a 3rd player. chaewon happened to pass by so i went up to her asking her to join us. she was a bit hesitant at first but agreed nevertheless. last but not least, natty. we were at some frat party when we saw natty twerking to water by tyla with a beer bottle in her right hand. i knew i found my lifelong friend group right then and there. 4 years later, here we are. discussing job opportunities like we weren’t complaining about attending classes just a month ago.

“i heard doja cat’s team is hiring backup dancers for Coachella.” said natty. “oh girl, there isn’t anyone better than you for the job with an ass that’s able to twerk like yours!” karina chimed in, landing a light slap on natty’s upper thigh.

“ughhh you guys are already talking about jobs? why not relax a bit?” whined chaewon, lightly jumping up and down.

“girl. this is doja cat we’re talking about.”

“you can shake ass with her after slacking off a bit, nattyyy~~”

i agreed with chaewon. we all worked super hard throughout these 4 years. we gave our blood, sweat and tears- literally. it was our right to finally breathe a bit. i actually did have an idea. how about…

“..how about south korea?” i said, haven’t been listening to what they were laughing about. they looked at me puzzled. i explained my idea of traveling there for like a week or two. we decided to talk about it later with more details and focused on taking photos for the rest of the day.

“so, why south korea?” asked natty while happily eating her lobster tail pasta.

“i mean, it’s a place i never got to go in my 22 years of life. plus we all know that seoul is an incredible city with lots of history and-“

“-and! with an amazing night life!” noted karina, earning nods and hums of agreement from the girls. after a bit of a pause chaewon broke the silence and proposed her own idea,

“let’s stay there for a whole month! we’ve graduated, hello? and i don’t wanna go to somewhere new and exciting just to return to this same old town in three days again like how we always did.”

she was right. even though we did travel during our university years we didn’t exactly explore the whole city or country that we went to. some tourist attractions and night clubs were enough for us. but this time, we were determined to make a change about that.

“okay, a month is fine by me but what about the plane tickets? the hotel? or are we gonna book an airbnb? let’s not get all giddy before planning. because 30 days?? that is a duration we never experienced before.” natty added before wiping her mouth with a napkin and taking a sip out of her wine.

“true that,” i sighed and continued “a month is great and all but it’s also gonna cost us a lot of money. we need to make sure that we won’t go broke after all those activities that i know you girls are planning to do.” i smirked while karina and natty looked at each other and giggled. we continued to talk about how this whole thing was going to unfold while chaewon asked for the check.

after bidding goodbye to the girls, karina and i went to our apartment that we had rented a month before graduation. “hey, i’m gonna shower. and it’s gonna be an everything shower.” she emphasized the word ‘everything’ with her hands, making an imaginary circle in the air. i let her know that it was fine and i didn’t have anything urgent. just as i heard the water running i plopped onto my bed, laying down like a starfish.

“korea, huh?” i mumbled to myself. of course, the first thing on my mind was exo. i was 13 when i first saw them, in their call me baby era. the way they danced was just so captivating. i immediately fell in love with their music style. the fact that it had almost been 10 years, a decade, since i became a fan of them was making me realize just how fast time flew by. and since i was still a kid when i was 13-14, i didn’t really consider how one of the members might’ve had an impact on me. i only came to realize it during their obsession era.

byun baekhyun.

the sexy yet cute, childish but mature, honey voiced main vocalist of the group. god, he was so.. unreal. the way his white hair bounced on his forehead while he was dancing away, the way he looked in the camera with that goddamn face chain felt like he was staring directly into my soul. oh god- and his hands? his infamous hands? don’t get me started on those hands of his.

i felt a slight blush creeping up on my cheeks. i sighed heavily, knowing that my celebrity crush was.. nothing more than a celebrity crush really. he didn’t know i existed, had millions of fans waiting to throw themselves at him and plus i’m sure he has many beautiful women around him that are just as talented as him. hell, he might even have a girlfriend. i sighed one more time, aware of the fact that i was just a mere fan in the huge ocean of exo-ls. i decided to sulk about it later and opened my laptop to search for an affordable airbnb.

after what felt like an eternity, we got everything done. the airbnb, the plane tickets, the financial aspect… we managed to handle them all. and the day finally came. we met up at the airport and as much as we were excited, we were also anxious.

“you checked everything right? our passports? we have them right?” karina nagged me 7 times in the span of 45 minutes. this was her 8th.

“ughhhh yes, rinaaaa. i did.”

“did you che-“

“yes, i QUADRUPLE checked before leaving the house.”

karina nodded with a slight look of worry on her face. she always got super nervous before passport control. chaewon was looking around to find the airport’s duty-free. natty was chatting with a guy that seemed to be a little too into her, but she knew how to handle attention so i let her be.

after 30 minutes i called them over to check-in. and then passport control and lastly -finally- we managed to board the plane. the seat arrangement of the plane was different than the other ones that we flew with. 2 seats on the right and the left, with 4 seat in the middle. we were happy that we got to sit together. since it was a 15 hour flight, i decided to look through my notes of the places that we were going to visit to kill some time.

“so which night clubs we gon’ go to?” said a very sleepy natty, “i know club double 8 is pretty popular.”

“just go to sleep nat, you’ll think about partying tomorrow.” giggled chaewon.

. . .

holy shit.

fuck.

what? how was baekhyun standing in front of me???

what was happening?

his dark brown eyes never leaving mine. he gestured me to come over.

i obliged, who was i to turn THE BYUN BAEKHYUN down?

he sat down on some type of stool, pushed his hips slightly upwards and just like that, he was manspreading. baekhyun motioned for me to sit on his lap, lightly patting his left upper thigh. i’m SURE that my mouth was hanging open the whole time but who cares? I’M SITTING ON BAEKHYUN’S LAP!! baekhyun caressed my cheeks with his hands, his right thumb brushing my lips. i licked my lips, admiring his handsome face. his left hand found its way to my waist, then to my ass. i could feel myself throb at his lustful action. baekhyun licked his lips ever so slowly, leaned into my left ear and asked after slightly pausing,

“beef or chicken?”

…what.

“ma’am, beef or chicken?” my eyes flung open and i think i gasped, because the flight attendant looked taken aback.

“uh- um- beef, please.” i smiled at her sheepishly, taking the beef that was supposed to be my dinner out of her hands. she smiled and went on with her duty. karina snickered, “dude, what was that about? were you having a wet dream?” SHIT. HOW DID SHE KNOW? she laughed quietly, imitating my puzzled face.

“girl, you were saying “mmh” and “mhm” all the damn time. how could i NOT notice?” i felt myself burning up. it’s like she read my mind. damn you byun baekhyun. i looked over to my left to find natty and chaewon quietly eating their meals, seems like they were too busy to even notice my embarrassing actions while sleeping.

finally, we landed after almost 16 hours, the flight took a bit longer than expected but it was fine. we quickly found an uber to take us to our airbnb, meeting the owners when we arrived. they were a lovely couple leaving for their honeymoon. we wished them a happy honeymoon and settled in. of course, natty immediately wanted to go out and explore the lively city of seoul.

“come on girls, we’re finally here! what are y’all waiting for?!”

chaewon looked unamused, “have you ever heard of ‘jetlag’? let us rest a bit, damn.”

“yeah, natty. maybe we should get used to the time difference here, what do you say?” karina asked, clearly very tired from all the running around at the airport. contrary to karina and chaewon, i wasn’t tired. i felt pumped actually. maybe it was the excitement of being in a new place or maybe it was the adrenaline from my dream with baekhyun. eh, it didn’t matter.

“i’ll come natty!” i said eagerly. she smiled widely, “finally! someone that’s not 80 years old apparently!” we both giggled while karina and chaewon was barely registering what we said.

“okie, well, we’ll be back in an hour or so! bye girlies!” exclaimed natty and pulled me by my wrist.

“Y/N?? WHERE ARE- Y/N!!” i heard natty shouting from a distance. i may have gotten lost when i didn’t wait for her to get tteokbeokki skewers. long story short, i wandered off without her AND MY PHONE, which i forgot was in her bag. the stars somehow ended up aligning for me because i found myself walking towards a random kpop dance challenge in public. with crowds of people watching, filming and waiting for a song that they know to come on. i spent a good 10 minutes watching them and cheering people on. just then growl by exo came on. of course, i rushed with the other people to dance and somehow ended up in front row, putting a show for cheerful strangers singing the fan-chant. then i spotted a very mad looking natty watching me. as soon as the song switched to another one, i smiled from ear to ear to my fellow dancers and immediately rushed over to her.

“where the hell have you been?! i got scared to death! don’t you know how many creeps could be lurking out there?!” i was breathing very heavily but i managed to get out an apology. natty hugged me tightly, giving me my phone back while stating that she would never carry it again. before i could whine about it, i felt a tap on my shoulder,

“excuse me, ma’am.”

we turned around to see a petite figure of a young woman wearing a black cap and a black mask looking up expectantly to me as she was… short. very short.

“yes?”

“hello. my name is song jiwoo. i work as a talent recruiter in INB100. and i wanted to ask if you would want to become a backup dancer for EXO, as they have a big 13th anniversary concert planned. here’s my card. please confirm wether you would want to come to the interview or not in 24 hours.”

INB100.. exo… 13th anniversary concert… dance… me…

i was trying to process what she had just proposed to me. then i realized she was still looking up at me, patiently waiting for an answer.

“uh- uhm, yes!!” i shouted a little, making natty snort. clearing my throat i continued,

“yes, thank you for the opportunity. i will let you know in no time.” i smiled as i shook her hand. she bowed lightly and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

natty shook me, squeeling happily, “GIRL OH MY FUCKING GODDDD!!??? LIKE WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED??? YOU WILL TAKE IT RIGHT?? RIGHT?!!” i was still examining the card that jiwoo handed me.

after a looooong story time about what happened, karina and chaewon looked at us, their expressions filled with surprise. the room fell silent. clearly, they were waiting for me to say something.

“you will accept it, right? we all know how big of a fan you are of them.” said karina softly, squeezing my right hand reassuringly.

“i know,” i huff “but it just feels hypocritical you know… telling you guys to relax and not take on jobs… while if i accept this, i’m gonna be doing the opposite of what we intended to do with this trip.” i groaned, taking my face into my own hands.

“girl, you’re fucking crazy. none of us will judge you whatsoever for taking a great- an INCREDIBLE job opportunity! this might change your life. and who knows, maybe you’ll get laid by an exo member~” said natty suggestively while making kissing noises. we laughed. after a long pause, i finally spoke up.

“i will take it.”

karina and natty immediately hugged me, showering me with encouraging words. chaewon patted my back, i sensed something with her acting like this but i decided to ignore it. she was really tired from the moment we landed after all.

after researching if song jiwoo was a real recruiter of INB100, i dialed her number.

…ring…

…ring…

..ri- “hello. this is song jiwoo.”

i looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 03.47 am. i sighed- it was more of a huff really.

after years of looking up to them, i was going to be beside them.

training with them.

dancing with them.

…

what the hell am i gonna do?

>> part 2 << / >>part 3<<

[quibbs126]

And now I have made a part 3 of the human Cookies, this time featuring the Legendaries

You know I’m noticing that recently I’ve been drawing a lot more. I mean I’ve drawn 3 pieces in the last two days and I drew stuff last week. Seems my medication is at least helping something, even if it’s not me doing actual work to get my life together like my parents hoped. But hey, it personally makes me happy I’m drawing more, so it’s at least somewhat of a win

I think I was spurred on to do this one because I was playing around with the Mii maker on my 3DS, and I was making Cookies and started making the Legendaries

I will say, the Legendaries are probably some of the more difficult characters to translate into normal humans, since their designs are more fantastical. Almost all of their hair is made of something not normal, like fire, grass or water, so I have to try and make it at least semi-cohesive. It also means a lot of hair dye

I admit, while Wind Archer doesn’t look terrible, he does look very boring, like a generic guy. But frankly I just don’t see him using hair dye, or getting a lot of piercings. He doesn’t feel like someone who would to me, and so he looks boring

On the subject of designs I’m not satisfied with, I think Sugar Swan came out the worst. I just legit didn’t know what to do with her design. I’m a proponent of short haired Sugar Swan, so I gave her that, but I don’t think it turned out the best. I also wasn’t sure how to incorporate all the wings and swan thing on her head. I got that but it’s not that great

Originally in Sugar Swan’s spot was Millennial Tree, but he wasn’t turning out great so I tried doing Sugar Swan in his spot. Maybe that spot was just cursed or something

I think my personal favorite of the bunch is Sea Fairy, I think she turned out fun. Honestly I can see her going either way with the hair dye, so might as well just give her the blue. The buzz cut thing was actually something I got from another Sea Fairy design that I really like. I was debating between her having black or dirty blonde hair, but I eventually settled on the blonde

Moonlight and Stardust were pretty fun. With Stardust, I wasn’t sure whether I should have him dye his whole hair blue or have him bleach the front of his hair. I asked on Discord and they said the latter, so that’s what I did. But also note, I realized that if I were to try and give him bleached front and also potentially blue tips, he would have had Yugi Moto anime hair, but just flattened down instead of all spiky. Like I’ve seen people draw Yugi with hair similar to it

I wasn’t really feeling it after Sugar Swan’s failed design, but Fire Spirit got my mojo back, I think he turned out good. And with that I was able to make a Millennial Tree design I liked a lot more (while also looking at someone else’s interpretation of his design and deciding to use locs as well). Maybe not the best but not as bad as it was before

I kind of threw in Frost Queen because last spot and also she is an elemental Legendary. With her, instead of her hair being dyed, it’s supposed to be that her hair has actually turned white from either stress or age, with a tiny bit of her blonde still there at the ends. Don’t know why I picked blonde other than light color though

In my head while I was drawing, I was trying to come up with human things for them to do, but I really only got as far as the Dessert guys and the Wizard guys

Moonlight is the heiress of the “Wizard’s” estate, and she lives there and is the self proclaimed custodian. I’m not really sure what Blueberry Pie and Sugar Glass are doing there, but they’re probably also here. I also don’t know what the estate really is, I just have the idea that it’s a big place that the “Wizards” used as a research place, until they just stopped using it or disbanded or died or something. Stardust meanwhile is either Moonlight’s half brother she didn’t know about, or they’re full siblings who were orphaned and then separated at a young age via the foster care system. Stardust’s journey there would be him learning of his sister and her location and then I suppose hitchhiking his way there until he arrived

Meanwhile, Sugar Swan owns this wildlife preserve, which is the Dessert Paradise (probably goes by another name but I can see “Paradise” still being in the name), meanwhile the Dessert guardians, including Wind Archer, are the other caretakers that manage and guard the preserve. Are they also Sugar Swan’s kids? Maybe, I don’t know. Wind Archer probably is though, and maybe Millie’s his dad, I’m not sure

Frost Queen I think is just an accomplished doctor who lives in a more remote area and takes care of patients with a rare condition that she specializes in the treatment of (and also contracted herself when she was younger). She also just kind of dresses like that I guess

Genuinely I don’t know what Fire Spirit does, he might just be like, Pitaya’s adopted son or works under Pitaya, I don’t know. I can’t see him with much of a job

I imagine Sea Fairy has some sort of job (that she might neglect), but I have no clue what that job would be, since it presumably impacts both Black Pearl and Abyss Monarch in some big way, so like, running an aquarium might be too low stakes. Her crush on Moonlight might be something like she met this cute astronomer one time at some sort of astronomy conference or something, but she doesn’t know where she lives and so doesn’t know how to meet her again. Moonlight also thought she was cute, but again, doesn’t know where she lives

And yeah, I think that’s about it. I hope you enjoy these designs

[jinnieboosworld]

This Is So Not Fair

Hakneyeon x Female Reader

@deoboyznet @a-dream-bookmark @k-labels

Genre: RomCom, Fluff

Summary: Y/n, a rich girl gets cut off from her parents and has to start working at a street food stand. She absolutely hates her new life that is until she meets a guy named Hakneyeon who shows her that money truly doesn’t buy happiness.

Part of The MeetCute Series

Word Count: 8979

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N was in full crisis mode. It was the kind of crisis that only the truly privileged could ever experience—like a spoiled child being forced to grow up far too soon.

She sat in the back of a black town car, staring out the window at the bustling Seoul streets. The hum of the traffic and the neon lights outside only made her feel more isolated. Her world had been flipped upside down in a matter of hours.

“You’re 23, Y/N. It’s time you learned some responsibility.” Her father’s words echoed in her head, cold and dismissive. “You’re cut off. No more credit cards. No more luxury apartments. No more trust funds. You’re on your own.”

Her mother had barely spared her a glance, already preoccupied with her salad at dinner. “You’ll need to figure things out on your own, sweetheart.”

Y/N had been livid, of course. She didn’t need to work, and she certainly didn’t want to. For as long as she could remember, she had lived a life of excess—designer clothes, vacations in Bali, spa days at the finest resorts. The idea of working was so far out of her reality, it might as well have been a foreign concept.

And yet, here she was, being dropped off at a rundown street food stand in the middle of nowhere. The sign above read “Bulgogi King.” She felt like she might actually die.

The town car pulled away, leaving Y/N to stare at the tiny stand with its peeling paint and modest, no-nonsense appearance. There were plastic chairs set up in front, the smell of sizzling meat and spicy sauce wafting through the air. The thought of eating food from that stand made her stomach churn. The people around her were busy, standing in line, chatting and laughing, as if this was just another day in their humble lives.

But it wasn’t her day. It wasn’t her life.

She tugged at her stained apron, trying to adjust the oversized, hideous t-shirt that said “Bulgogi King” across the front. She was too embarrassed to even look at herself in the reflection of the glass window, her face flushed with the humiliation of it all.

This was so not fair.

“What is the meaning of all this?!” Y/N muttered under her breath. “I can’t believe they’re making me work here. I mean—this is insane. I’m the heir to the L/n Corporation. This isn’t my life!”

She groaned, staring at the man who was currently running the stand. He was casually flipping meat on the grill, unfazed by her presence, his hands moving with effortless precision.

The guy was about her age, tall and lean, his hair tousled under a cap. His posture was relaxed, like he wasn’t at all bothered by the fact that he was working behind a street food cart in the middle of this chaotic neighborhood. Y/N couldn’t help but stare, as his confidence made her feel completely out of place. How could someone just… be okay with this?

She was still too busy sulking to realize that the guy had been watching her for a while.

“Hey,” he finally spoke up, his voice calm and casual. “You’re the new girl, right?”

Y/N didn’t even look at him, her eyes trained on the ground as she crossed her arms in defiance. “I’m not staying here long. Just… dealing with a small family situation. It’s really not fair.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “A small family situation?” He smiled a little. “You don’t exactly look like the type who works at a place like this.”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Well, I’m not. I’m—” She stopped herself, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. “I’m not like you.”

He just smirked, not taking offense, which irritated her more. “I’m Hakneyeon, by the way. I run this stand. I’m guessing you haven’t worked a day in your life, huh?”

“I’ve worked plenty of important things,” she snapped. “I don’t need to do this. This is beneath me.” She took a step back, her arms folded tighter. “I’m a L/n I don’t work. I just… live.”

Hakneyeon chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You know, it’s not all about living in luxury. You’d be surprised how good it feels to work for something real.”

Y/N felt a twinge of anger at his words. “Please, don’t tell me you’re lecturing me about work. You think I want to be here? I didn’t choose this life.”

Hakneyeon shrugged. “No one chooses the circumstances they’re born into, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make the best of it.”

Y/N huffed, her pride still too big to allow herself to be humbled by some guy working a food stand. “Well, I’m not staying long. So if you could just let me get through this hell of a day without you offering unsolicited advice, I’d appreciate it.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just took the grill spatula in his hand and flipped another skewer of bulgogi onto the sizzling grill. “Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. “But you know, you’d probably enjoy the job a lot more if you actually gave it a chance.”

Y/N felt a spark of irritation at his calmness. He was too nonchalant about this whole thing. She was miserable—didn’t he realize that?

Instead of saying anything more, she turned toward the tiny ordering counter. “Fine. I’ll just… get this over with.”

She stood there, her arms crossed tightly as she forced herself to stand still. Hakneyeon was right; she wasn’t cut out for this. Every minute that passed, she could feel herself becoming more uncomfortable.

But she wasn’t going to admit that to him. No way.

“This is so not fair,” she muttered again, more to herself than anyone else. She was not meant to be here.

Hakneyeon, however, didn’t seem fazed. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

And for some reason, the way he said it made her almost believe he wasn’t mocking her.

Almost.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N stood in front of her full-length mirror, giving herself a once-over. She wasn’t exactly thrilled with the sight before her. The mandatory food stand shirt hung loosely on her frame, an ugly oversized piece of cotton that did absolutely nothing for her shape. It was branded with the logo of the stand she worked at, and while the shirt was supposed to be “practical,” all Y/N could think was how it completely ruined her otherwise flawless outfit.

She had on her expensive black leather pants, a pair that cost more than a month’s rent. Her gold jewelry sparkled even under the dim light of her apartment, and her heels—her gorgeous, strappy, sky-high heels—added just the right amount of height to make her feel like she could still rule the world.

But this… this was ridiculous.

The shirt clashed with everything. And yet, she couldn’t just wear something else. It was her uniform, after all. Her parents had made it clear that she had to work at the food stand for a while—“get some perspective,” they called it. A punishment for her supposed “entitlement” and “lack of appreciation” for the money she’d been given her entire life.

What was that supposed to mean anyway?

Y/N glared at the shirt in the mirror, as if glaring would somehow make it disappear. She reached for her phone and checked the time. She had about twenty minutes before she had to leave for work, and she wasn’t about to show up looking like a total disaster. Not in front of… well, not in front of anyone. Certainly not in front of Hakneyeon.

Hakneyeon.

The name echoed in her mind, and she felt her stomach do a little flip. Despite everything she’d told herself, despite how much she’d tried to convince herself that this job was beneath her, there was something about Hakneyeon that kept nagging at her. He was patient with her. He didn’t judge her, despite all the stupid mistakes she’d made since starting at the stand. There was a quiet confidence in him, something that made him seem entirely different from anyone she’d ever known.

She shook her head, pushing those thoughts aside. She didn’t need to think about him right now.

Y/N picked up her bag and stormed out of her apartment, making her way to the stand with purpose. She climbed into the back of a rideshare, her heels clicking against the floor of the car as she fiddled with her phone. The thought of what awaited her at the food stand made her stomach churn. The chaotic atmosphere, the greasy smells, the low-wage workers—everyone who wasn’t “someone” like her.

She grimaced as the car came to a stop. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

When she arrived, Y/N stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. She might’ve had a bad attitude about this job, but one thing was for sure: she wasn’t going to let her clothes get ruined. She adjusted her shirt, hoping that the mix of expensive pants and flashy jewelry would distract anyone from the fact that she was essentially dressed like a food stand worker.

But as she walked inside the stand, her plans to look cool and collected quickly fell apart.

There was Hakneyeon, standing behind the counter, flipping something on the grill with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the hectic energy of the stand, and somehow, it made everything seem less overwhelming. He noticed her immediately and gave her a friendly wave.

“Morning, Princess,” he said with a smirk.

Y/N immediately rolled her eyes. She hated that nickname. “I’m not your princess,” she shot back, her tone sharp, though she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

The moment she stepped behind the counter, things started to go downhill. Y/N had been there for about five minutes, organizing condiments and pretending to know what she was doing when a customer ordered a large portion of fries. Normally, she would’ve taken care of that quickly. But today, she managed to spill an entire packet of seasoning all over the counter.

“Are you serious?” she muttered under her breath, trying to gather the seasoning up with her hands. It was a futile effort, and she only ended up knocking over a bottle of ketchup that exploded all over the counter and her shirt.

“Oh my god, this is so not fair,” Y/N groaned, wiping her hands on her already stained shirt.

Hakneyeon glanced over at her, trying to hide his amusement. “You okay over there?”

She looked up at him, her face flushed with frustration. “No! I’m not okay! This is ridiculous!” she half-screeched, trying and failing to salvage the situation. Her pants—her beautiful, designer leather pants—now had ketchup all over them. “I’m going to need a whole new wardrobe at this rate.”

He stepped forward, not at all surprised by her mini meltdown. “It’s just ketchup. It happens,” he said with a grin. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how you’re trying so hard.”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Cute? Cute isn’t the word I would use. This is a disaster. I’ll never get all this off.”

Hakneyeon simply shook his head, his grin widening. “It’s not the end of the world. You’ll figure it out. And hey, your pants are still fancy, even with the ketchup.”

“I’m not here to make mistakes,” she snapped, though the edge in her voice wasn’t quite as harsh as before. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she rubbed at the ketchup stain in vain. “I don’t do mistakes.”

He chuckled at her, which only made Y/N feel more embarrassed. The last thing she wanted was for someone like him—someone who knew this place, who was so comfortable in this environment—to see her so out of her element. She was used to being the one who had it all together. And yet, here she was, spilling food and ruining her clothes.

Hakneyeon just smiled knowingly. “You’re doing fine,” he said, his tone casual. “You just gotta get used to it.”

“Used to it?” Y/N’s voice was filled with disbelief. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this place. It’s so… messy. And this shirt? This stupid shirt?”

Hakneyeon looked at her with a quiet, amused expression. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to just throw away your old habits overnight, but hey, you might get there. Eventually.”

Y/N didn’t answer him. Instead, she looked down at her shirt and the mess she’d made, frowning as she grabbed a towel and began to wipe at the stain. Maybe he was right. Maybe she couldn’t just change everything about herself in a single day, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

With one last sigh, she started cleaning up the mess she’d made, trying to push down her frustration. She could feel Hakneyeon’s eyes on her, but instead of feeling embarrassed, it was almost comforting. He wasn’t judging her. He wasn’t mocking her.

He was… helping.

And that, for whatever reason, felt strangely good.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N’s third day at the food stand was no better than the first two. If anything, it was worse. The thought of spending another eight hours behind the counter, serving greasy food and wearing that ridiculous shirt, made her want to scream. She could feel the stain from yesterday still haunting her—the ketchup not only ruined her pants, but her pride too.

The constant noise of sizzling food, the never-ending stream of customers, and the sticky heat that seemed to settle in the air—it was all too much. Yet, as much as she hated it, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something oddly… comforting about it.

Especially when Hakneyeon was around.

It was like he was a magnet, pulling her attention no matter what she was doing. Whether he was flipping burgers or sorting out the ice machine, there was something about the way he carried himself that made him hard to ignore.

And today, like the last few days, it wasn’t any different.

“Y/N,” Hakneyeon called, his voice cutting through the loud chatter of the stand. He was holding a large tub of fries in his hands, eyes scanning the counter for any open spots. “You mind grabbing some ketchup packets for this order?”

Y/N reluctantly left her spot behind the counter, pushing her hair out of her face. She turned and moved toward the supply shelf, but her eyes couldn’t help but drift back to him. There he was, effortlessly balancing multiple trays of food while his arm flexed slightly as he adjusted the trays on the counter. He wasn’t even trying to look good—he was just existing—and yet Y/N found herself momentarily breathless.

She cleared her throat and quickly focused on grabbing the ketchup packets, reminding herself that she had a job to do. She wasn’t here to admire Hakneyeon’s arms or the way his shirt clung to his broad shoulders. No, she was here to get this over with, to fulfill her “punishment,” and then return to her life of luxury.

But then—of course—it happened again.

As she passed him with the ketchup packets in hand, she watched him clean up a spill on the counter with effortless grace, his movements smooth and sure. He didn’t even break a sweat. The way he bent down to wipe the floor—his back muscles flexing slightly, the way his shirt stretched over his chest—was enough to make Y/N’s heart stutter.

She quickly turned away, a flush creeping up her neck. “So not fair,” she muttered under her breath.

She hated how it felt. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking—though, God, he was—there was something more. It was the ease with which he navigated this environment, the casual confidence that made him appear so… put together.

Y/N couldn’t help but notice how he handled everything with such grace, like working in a food stand wasn’t even a challenge for him. Meanwhile, Y/N felt like a disaster every time she did anything. Her clothes were constantly getting stained or ruined, she spilled things, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so clumsy.

But Hakneyeon? He didn’t make mistakes.

It was when a new customer approached the counter, a teenager asking for the most complicated order Y/N had heard all day, that she noticed another thing. Hakneyeon was talking to the customer, smiling softly, as he grabbed the fries from the fryer. His voice was warm and soothing as he answered the teenager’s questions, and when he handed over the food, his soft smile made the entire interaction feel calm and natural.

Y/N found herself watching him again, and for a moment, it felt like everything around her slowed down. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about the way he spoke—his quiet assurance—that made him seem so… appealing. So different from anyone she’d known before.

But before she could analyze it any further, a loud crash interrupted her thoughts. A stack of plates had fallen off the shelf next to her, the ceramic plates clattering loudly on the floor. She jumped, her heart racing as she looked down at the mess she’d created.

“Great,” she muttered. “Just what I needed.”

As she bent down to pick up the plates, Hakneyeon appeared next to her, already crouched down to help. His hands worked quickly and efficiently, as though he’d done this a thousand times before.

“You okay?” he asked softly, glancing up at her with an easy smile.

Y/N sighed in frustration. “Honestly? No. But thanks for helping,” she mumbled, continuing to gather the shattered plates.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hakneyeon said, his tone light. “It’s not the end of the world.”

The way he said that, so calmly, with no hint of irritation, was enough to make Y/N stop for a moment. She glanced at him, meeting his eyes for a brief second. There was something about the way he didn’t judge her for her clumsiness, the way he didn’t make her feel like a burden, that tugged at something inside her.

She was used to being the one who was admired, who was the center of attention. But with Hakneyeon, it felt different. He didn’t care about her wealth or her status—he just saw her as someone who needed a little help, and that was enough.

“You’re not as bad as you think,” Hakneyeon added, standing up as he finished picking up the last piece of plate. “You just gotta get used to things around here. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to get used to… all of this.”

He laughed softly, reaching out to ruffle her hair in a way that felt more playful than patronizing. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

The soft touch of his hand on her hair, even though it was brief, left a tingling feeling on her skin. Y/N quickly stepped away, not wanting to make this moment more awkward than it already was.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of orders, laughter, and the usual chaos of the food stand. But every time she caught a glimpse of Hakneyeon—whether it was him flipping burgers or cleaning off the grill—Y/N couldn’t shake the strange fluttering in her chest. There was just something about him. Something that made everything else feel… insignificant.

As the day came to an end and the stand began to empty out, Y/N found herself alone behind the counter with Hakneyeon, wiping down the counters for the last time.

“So, what’s your plan after this?” he asked casually, tossing a rag into the laundry bin.

Y/N paused, a slight frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. Probably head back to my apartment and sulk a little more. Definitely going to need a new wardrobe after all this.”

Hakneyeon raised an eyebrow at her. “Still not a fan of the job, huh?”

Y/N shook her head. “I’ll get over it. Or… I’ll try, anyway. I just need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his voice soft but understanding. “But don’t give up on it so quickly. I think you’ll surprise yourself.”

Y/N smiled a little, though she couldn’t entirely shake the feeling that he might be right. Maybe, just maybe, this whole experience wasn’t as horrible as she made it out to be.

At least not as long as Hakneyeon was around.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N wasn’t sure what exactly had changed, but somewhere between cleaning trays and making the same greasy fries she had no interest in eating, something shifted. It was the quiet way Hakneyeon worked, his movements smooth and confident, that had made her feel… well, different. But it wasn’t just that. It was how he didn’t let anything get to him. His constant calm was something she admired even though she refused to admit it.

The next morning, Y/N groggily dragged herself out of bed, her eyelids heavy from another night spent sulking about her life. She was halfway through reapplying her eyeliner when she remembered something.

Today was her day off from the food stand.

A part of her was relieved, but another part—the stubborn, prideful part—was a little disappointed. She had to admit it—there was something about being at the stand that pulled her out of her privileged bubble, something that made her feel oddly… alive. And Hakneyeon, though he wasn’t her type at all, had somehow become an unavoidable presence in her life.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself missing him.

“Stop it,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “This is so not fair. I’m not here for this.”

But as she wandered around her apartment, her mind kept drifting back to him, to the way he would look when he focused, his concentration so sharp that she’d almost forget how good he looked. Hakneyeon wasn’t just handsome in that “I’m too pretty for my own good” way. It was the way he was so effortlessly cool, like everything came so naturally to him. He had the kind of confidence that was attractive but not arrogant—almost the opposite. He seemed to carry himself with this quiet dignity, the kind you couldn’t fake.

That was the moment it hit her: she had caught feelings. Real, unshakeable feelings for Hakneyeon.

This realization made her almost choke on her coffee. “No, no, no,” she muttered. “I’m not supposed to like him.”

She stood there for a moment, staring into her mug like it held the answers to her life’s problems. The idea of liking someone who wasn’t rich or impressive or part of her world… It felt absurd. She wasn’t someone who liked regular people. She liked power, status, luxury. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

And yet it had.

When Y/N showed up at the food stand that afternoon, the familiar scent of fried food immediately hit her, the greasy air smacking her in the face. She walked in to find Hakneyeon at the counter, sorting orders with his usual calm efficiency. There was a group of kids sitting on the benches outside, their excited chatter filling the air, but Hakneyeon remained completely unfazed by the noise around him.

He looked up at her as she walked in, his usual warm smile lighting up his face. “Hey, you’re here early.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d give it another shot,” Y/N said, leaning against the counter. “Don’t get used to it though.”

He chuckled and gave her a knowing look. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But you look… different today.”

Y/N blinked, slightly taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, wiping his hands on his apron. “You just seem… more relaxed.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to play it off. “You’re imagining things. I’m still me, just trying to survive.”

“Well, if this is your way of surviving, you’re doing better than you think,” Hakneyeon said, handing her a drink order with a teasing grin. “Your clumsiness is actually pretty entertaining.”

Y/N crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Hakneyeon just grinned wider. “I aim to please.”

Her stomach fluttered, but she quickly ignored it. It had to be the weird food smells and the ridiculous uniform she was wearing. That was the only logical explanation. Nothing else could explain the way her heart raced whenever he smiled at her or when his eyes lingered on her for just a little too long.

The day went on as usual, but this time, Y/N couldn’t help but notice more. Every time Hakneyeon interacted with a customer, she found herself studying his movements—how he took orders with effortless charm, how he made them laugh, how he was just good at what he did. Even when he wasn’t doing anything particularly remarkable, Y/N couldn’t stop her mind from drifting to him.

There was a moment when the two of them were stocking up on napkins behind the counter. She had just reached for the same box as him, and their hands brushed.

“Sorry,” she mumbled quickly, her face flushing slightly.

Hakneyeon smiled that smile of his, the one that made everything feel light. “It’s fine,” he said casually. “We’re a team now, right?”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, and she quickly turned away to grab another box to avoid making this any more awkward than it already was. But the truth was, she couldn’t stop the little spark of warmth spreading through her chest.

That was what bothered her the most.

She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She wasn’t supposed to get butterflies when Hakneyeon smiled at her, or when their hands brushed. She wasn’t supposed to care about him, not really. She wasn’t supposed to get attached to a guy who worked at a food stand.

But it was happening anyway.

By the end of the day, Y/N was exhausted, but something had changed. As she leaned against the counter, staring out at the fading light of the setting sun, Hakneyeon appeared beside her. His apron was slightly askew, his hair a little messier than usual, but he still looked effortlessly handsome.

“Long day, huh?” he asked, looking at her with a slightly teasing smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Y/N muttered, not really looking at him. “I’m still getting the hang of this.”

“You’re doing fine,” Hakneyeon said reassuringly, his voice soft. “You’ll get used to it. Just… try not to spill any more drinks on yourself next time, okay?”

She snorted. “No promises.”

He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “You’ll survive, trust me.”

Y/N found herself smiling, a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, this life. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, spending time with Hakneyeon. But that was the thing. She wasn’t ready to admit that to herself just yet.

Not yet.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N had always been one to stay in control. The idea of letting someone else call the shots, to give up a little of her independence, was a concept she had never fully embraced. So when she walked into the food stand the next morning, her head was spinning with all the thoughts of last night.

Her interactions with Hakneyeon had felt different. She had spent the evening after her shift in her room, trying to dissect every moment. The way he had smiled at her, the way his eyes seemed to lock onto hers, even when it wasn’t necessary—those little moments had somehow started to mean something more than she wanted them to. What was worse was that she didn’t know what to do with it.

Her life had been so much easier when she could avoid feelings altogether.

“Here we go again,” Y/N muttered to herself as she adjusted her hair in the mirror before entering. It was something of a daily ritual now—checking herself over before facing him. She still wore her usual mix of her stand uniform and expensive accessories, the jewelry like armor to keep her from letting anyone get too close.

When she walked into the stand, she was surprised to find Hakneyeon already deep into his work, sorting through orders with a speed and grace that made him look almost too good for this place. He didn’t even look up when she entered, but the familiarity of his presence was strangely comforting.

Y/N walked past the counter, trying to act like nothing had changed, but the unease gnawing at her insides made it harder to keep her usual cold composure.

“Morning,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hakneyeon looked up, his face lighting up as always. “Morning, Y/N. You ready for another day of greasy fries and messy customers?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her. “You know it. It’s like a dream come true.”

He laughed, but there was something different about it today. It wasn’t just his usual easygoing demeanor. There was a little more warmth, a little more something between them that hadn’t been there before. And that made Y/N’s stomach do a flip.

The day went on as usual, with her still fumbling her way through each task. She was trying, really trying to get the hang of it, but everything she did seemed to make a mess of things. It was like every time she turned around, she was tripping over something or dropping something or spilling something on herself. It was exhausting, but Hakneyeon never seemed to mind. If anything, he found her mistakes more endearing than frustrating.

“Hey,” he said around midday as she was wiping down the counter, her hands still a little sticky from something she had spilled earlier. “You’re doing great today. Really.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the surprised expression that crossed her face. “I don’t know about that. I’ve spilled three sodas and dropped an order of fries, and I’m pretty sure my uniform is beyond saving.”

Hakneyeon grinned, clearly amused. “But you’re still here, aren’t you? That’s something, at least.”

She couldn’t help but smile back at him, a soft, genuine smile she rarely allowed herself to give anyone. But as quickly as it appeared, she masked it again, retreating behind her usual defense.

“Thanks, I guess.” She adjusted her apron with a little more force than necessary. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this. I don’t belong here.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, not in a mocking way, but in a way that made her feel seen. “What do you mean by that?”

Y/N sighed, finally wiping down the last of the counter. She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but she was too tired to fight it. “I just… I don’t fit in. I don’t know how to do any of this. I can barely keep it together.”

Hakneyeon was quiet for a moment, the usual ease in his expression replaced by something softer, more thoughtful. “Y/N, nobody expects you to be perfect. You’re learning. You don’t have to have it all figured out.”

“But I’m supposed to,” Y/N countered, a bit sharper than she meant to. “I’ve always been told that I need to be perfect, that I can’t fail. If I’m not good at this, what am I even doing here?”

Hakneyeon didn’t back away. Instead, he leaned against the counter, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and understanding. “You know, if you let go of the idea that you need to be perfect, you might actually enjoy this a little more.”

Y/N frowned, still not ready to let go of her pride. “I don’t need advice on how to be happy. I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Hakneyeon asked softly, his gaze never leaving her. “You might think you’re fine, but from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to convince yourself of something that isn’t true.”

Y/N froze at his words, the weight of them sinking in. She opened her mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. There was no real defense for her actions. No real excuse for the way she’d been trying so hard to keep everything perfect when all she had done was make herself more miserable.

Hakneyeon, seeming to sense her internal battle, didn’t press further. He simply smiled, this time a little more knowing. “It’s okay. You’ll figure it out.”

Y/N nodded, although she wasn’t sure if she would. She had always lived her life with everything mapped out. She didn’t know how to let go, how to just be.

Later that afternoon, Y/N found herself walking through the busy streets, the same food stand she worked at still in the back of her mind. The day had been one of the worst, but also the most revealing. Maybe Hakneyeon was right. Maybe she had been trying too hard to keep things together, to uphold a version of herself that wasn’t even real.

But was it possible to change? To stop pretending that she had everything under control when, in reality, it was all slipping through her fingers?

The question was still there as she walked home, but as she passed a street vendor selling flowers, something caught her eye. A single, bright red rose was lying in a basket, its petals soft and delicate.

It was simple, like the life she had been too afraid to accept. It was beautiful, and maybe, just maybe, that was all she needed to realize.

That sometimes, you didn’t need to be perfect to be happy.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N dragged herself into the food stand the next morning, her heels clicking against the pavement. She’d been in a terrible mood all night, replaying Hakneyeon’s words in her head like an annoying pop song she couldn’t turn off. “You might think you’re fine, but it looks like you’re trying to convince yourself of something that isn’t true.” Who did he think he was, calling her out like that?

And yet, she couldn’t shake the way his words had lingered.

Hakneyeon was already there, unloading boxes of supplies from the truck parked by the stand. His black T-shirt clung to his back as he worked, and Y/N found herself watching him for a second too long. Why does he look like he’s starring in some kind of cologne commercial? she thought, annoyed with herself for noticing.

He turned just as she approached, wiping his brow and flashing her a grin. “Morning, sunshine.”

She rolled her eyes but felt her cheeks heat up anyway. “Do you ever take a day off?”

“Not when there’s work to do,” he replied, setting the box down. “But don’t worry, I saved the fun stuff for you.”

“Fun?” she asked suspiciously.

He pointed to a bucket of soapy water and a stack of rags. “The counters need scrubbing. You’re welcome.”

Y/N stared at the bucket like it had personally insulted her. She was already regretting wearing her cream-colored designer trousers and suede boots, but there was no turning back now.

“This is so not fair,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing a rag and kneeling by the counter.

Ten minutes in, Y/N was a mess. Her elbow knocked over the bucket, spilling soapy water all over the pavement—and her pants. She let out a frustrated groan, looking down at her now soggy, soapy trousers.

Hakneyeon, of course, was biting back laughter. “You okay over there?”

“No, I’m not okay,” she snapped, grabbing another rag and furiously trying to dry herself off. “This is a disaster.”

He crouched next to her, his smile softening. “Hey, it’s just soap. No need to declare a national emergency.”

“You don’t get it,” she huffed. “These pants cost more than this whole stand!”

Hakneyeon raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear designer clothes to work at a food stand, then.”

Y/N glared at him but couldn’t come up with a decent comeback. He had a point, even if she hated admitting it.

The rest of the morning was no less chaotic. Y/N somehow managed to burn her hand on the fryer (again), smear ketchup on her blouse, and trip over her own feet while carrying a tray of drinks. Every time, Hakneyeon was there to either tease her or help clean up the aftermath.

Despite her irritation, there were moments when she caught herself smiling. Like when she glanced over and saw Hakneyeon flipping burgers with practiced ease, his hair falling into his eyes as he concentrated. Or when he leaned against the counter during a slow moment, sipping from a water bottle and looking like he belonged in some indie movie about effortlessly cool people.

Why does he have to look so good doing the most mundane things? she thought, trying not to stare.

By lunchtime, Y/N was exhausted. She slumped onto a stool, brushing ketchup off her sleeve with a sigh. Hakneyeon slid a plate of fries in front of her, grinning.

“You’ve earned it,” he said.

“Gee, thanks,” she muttered, but she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

Hakneyeon sat across from her, his gaze thoughtful. “You know, for someone who claims to hate this job, you’ve been showing up every day.”

She looked up, her expression guarded. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Maybe not,” he said, leaning back. “But you’re here. And you’re trying, even if you won’t admit it.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. She hated that he saw through her so easily, hated that he made her feel things she wasn’t ready to deal with.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally, taking a bite of a fry.

Hakneyeon just smiled, like he knew something she didn’t.

That evening, as she walked home, Y/N found herself passing the same flower vendor from the day before. The red roses still caught her eye, their vibrant petals standing out against the drab surroundings.

Without really thinking, she stopped and bought one.

As she walked the rest of the way home, the rose in her hand, she couldn’t help but feel like it symbolized something. She wasn’t sure what yet, but it was a small reminder that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than what she had always believed.

She wasn’t ready to change completely. Not yet. But for the first time, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N trudged into the food stand the next morning, designer sunglasses perched on her nose, her hair pinned back with a diamond-studded clip. Even with her usual air of defiance, the familiar sight of the stand—and Hakneyeon’s easy smile—was starting to feel less unbearable. Not that she’d admit it.

“You’re late,” Hakneyeon said, his tone light as he handed her an apron.

“I was accessorizing,” she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Fashionably late, thank you very much.”

Hakneyeon smirked. “Right. Because this place is so glamorous.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but took the apron without argument. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to fall into a routine. Messy, chaotic, and frustrating, sure—but a routine nonetheless.

The morning rush came in waves, with customers lining up for their favorite dishes. Hakneyeon manned the fryer while Y/N took orders, her smile strained but polite.

“Two corndogs, one extra crispy!” she called back, turning to grab the cash from the customer. In her haste, her bracelet snagged on the edge of the counter, sending a stack of napkins flying.

“This is so not fair,” she muttered, scrambling to pick them up as Hakneyeon laughed.

“You okay, calamity queen?” he teased, flipping a corndog onto a tray.

“Don’t start with me,” she warned, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

Still, she couldn’t help but glance at him as he worked. He moved with an effortless confidence, like he belonged here in a way she couldn’t imagine herself ever feeling. And when he smiled at a customer—a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes—it did something to her she couldn’t explain.

Why does he have to look so good just existing? she thought, shaking her head to snap herself out of it.

By the time the lunch rush hit, Y/N was a walking disaster. She’d spilled mustard on her shoes, burned her finger on the fryer (again), and nearly knocked over an entire tray of drinks. Hakneyeon swooped in every time, his teasing always accompanied by an annoying amount of charm.

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that,” he said, grinning as he handed her a wet rag to clean the mustard off her pants.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” she shot back, dabbing at the stain.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, leaning against the counter as he watched her.

Y/N glared at him but couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips. As much as she hated the teasing, there was something about the way Hakneyeon looked at her—like she wasn’t just the spoiled rich girl everyone else saw.

Later that afternoon, Y/N caught him in one of those moments again. He was sweeping up near the counter, his sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy from the long day. The sunlight streamed through the stand’s awning, catching on his cheekbones and making him look like something out of a romance movie.

She stared for a beat too long, and when he glanced up, their eyes met.

“Something on my face?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” she said quickly, turning back to the register. Her cheeks burned as she fumbled with the buttons.

“Uh-huh,” Hakneyeon said, clearly unconvinced but merciful enough not to push.

As the day wound down, Y/N found herself cleaning the counters again—this time without complaint. She still hated the work, but there was something oddly satisfying about the rhythmic motion, about seeing something go from messy to clean.

Hakneyeon was wiping down the fryer nearby, humming a tune under his breath. The sound was low and soothing, blending with the hum of the city outside.

“Do you ever stop?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence.

“Stop what?”

“Being… you,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “All hardworking and cheerful and—ugh.”

Hakneyeon laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “What can I say? Someone’s gotta balance out your drama.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her. For once, it didn’t feel like he was mocking her—it felt like they were… something close to friends.

As she walked home that evening, Y/N felt the familiar weight of exhaustion, but it wasn’t as crushing as before. She still hated the stand, still missed her old life, but there was a tiny part of her—barely a whisper—that wondered if maybe there was more to this new life than she’d let herself see.

The thought scared her. But it also intrigued her.

And when she found herself smiling at the memory of Hakneyeon’s laugh, she couldn’t deny that something about this whole mess was starting to change her.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring, her designer watch glinting in the morning sun as she groaned and slapped it off. Every muscle in her body ached from the previous day’s chaos at the food stand. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, catching sight of her scuffed Louboutin heels by the door.

“Great,” she muttered, reaching for her phone. “Another day of ruining everything I own.”

Her wardrobe had been slowly rebelling against her lifestyle change—silk blouses torn, jewelry snagged, and pants stained with sauces she couldn’t pronounce. Yet, for reasons she couldn’t entirely explain, she kept showing up to the stand, stubbornly holding onto the remnants of her old life while reluctantly accepting pieces of the new one.

When she arrived at the stand that morning, Hakneyeon was already there, flipping skewers on the grill with an ease that made her envious.

“You’re late,” he teased without looking up.

“You’re obsessed with my punctuality,” she shot back, tying on her apron.

“Hardly. I’m just trying to figure out if you’re capable of being on time.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. She didn’t even fight back when Hakneyeon handed her the order pad and pointed to the growing line of customers.

“Let’s see how long it takes for you to mess up today,” he said, grinning.

“This is so not fair,” she muttered, slipping into her usual station.

The day unfolded like a chaotic dance. Y/N tripped over a stray bag of flour, accidentally squirted ketchup onto her new Gucci bracelet, and nearly set a tray of dumplings on fire. Each disaster was accompanied by Hakneyeon’s laughter, which only fueled her determination to prove she could handle it.

“You have mustard on your cheek,” he said at one point, handing her a napkin.

“Where?”

“Left side. No, your other left. Never mind, just—here.”

He reached out, his thumb brushing against her cheek to wipe it away. The touch was brief, almost casual, but it sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.

“Thanks,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she busied herself with refilling the napkin holder.

“No problem,” he replied, his tone lighter than the moment felt.

By the time the lunch rush ended, Y/N was a mess. Her shirt was damp with soda, her jeans had a grease stain, and her hands were covered in remnants of the dishes she’d served. She slumped against the counter, glaring at Hakneyeon, who was effortlessly wiping down the fryer.

“How do you always look so… put together?” she asked, exasperated.

“Years of practice,” he replied, smirking. “And maybe I’m just naturally talented.”

“Or insufferable,” she muttered under her breath, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

Hakneyeon chuckled, tossing the rag onto the counter. “Come on. Let’s grab some air.”

The two of them sat on the curb outside the stand, sipping on bottled water and watching the bustle of the city. For once, the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable.

“You’ve improved, you know,” Hakneyeon said suddenly, glancing at her.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “At what? Making a mess?”

“At sticking with it,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. “Most people would’ve quit by now. But you’re still here.”

She looked down at her lap, fiddling with her bracelet. “Yeah, well… quitting isn’t really an option.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have anything else,” she admitted softly, the words surprising even herself.

Hakneyeon didn’t respond right away, and when she finally looked up, she saw him watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said after a moment.

Y/N laughed, though it came out more bitter than amused. “Tell that to my shoes.”

Hakneyeon smiled, nudging her shoulder with his. “I’m serious. You’ve got more fight in you than you give yourself credit for. You just need to stop fighting yourself so much.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t. Instead, she let the words sit with her as they watched the world pass by, the quiet between them somehow feeling heavier and lighter all at once.

As the day came to an end, Y/N found herself lingering at the stand, wiping down counters long after the last customer had left. Hakneyeon was busy locking up, humming a tune under his breath as he double-checked the register.

“Why do you do this?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Do what?”

“This,” she said, gesturing around the stand. “The food stand. The long hours. The chaos.”

Hakneyeon paused, considering her question. “Because it makes people happy,” he said simply. “And because I like it. It’s honest work.”

“Honest work,” she repeated, the words tasting foreign on her tongue.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling at her. “You should try it sometime.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “This is so not fair.”

Hakneyeon’s grin widened, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he handed her the keys to lock up, stepping aside as if to say, It’s your turn now.

And for the first time, Y/N didn’t argue.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Y/N stood in front of the food stand, staring up at its bright, colorful sign as if seeing it for the first time. She adjusted her apron, a little worn out but now something she wore with pride, and smoothed her expensive designer pants out of habit. The shoes she’d once insisted on keeping pristine were now scuffed, but they’d carried her through this journey. She hardly noticed anymore.

For the first time in months, Y/N didn’t feel out of place here. She fit.

Haknyeon appeared from the back, wiping his hands on a towel, the late afternoon sunlight catching in his hair and making him look unfairly handsome. His smile was casual but warm as he approached, the kind of smile that still gave her butterflies despite all their time together.

“You’re early,” he teased, tossing the towel aside.

“Better early than late,” Y/N quipped, grinning. “Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t mess everything up before the rush.”

“Oh, so you’re the expert now?” Haknyeon countered, leaning on the counter, his face inches from hers.

“I think I’ve earned the title.” She playfully tapped his nose with her finger before stepping back, trying to hide the way her heart raced whenever he got too close.

The past few weeks had been an unspoken shift between them. They weren’t just co-workers or reluctant allies anymore. They were… something more. Something Y/N couldn’t quite put into words yet but felt in every lingering glance, every accidental brush of their hands, and every quiet moment they shared when the stand closed for the night.

“You know,” Haknyeon started, his tone softer now, “I don’t say this enough, but you’ve really come a long way, Y/N. You’re not the same girl who almost burned her shoes in the fryer.”

“Hey!” Y/N smacked his arm lightly, though she couldn’t help but laugh. “That was one time.”

“One time too many,” he teased, his laughter joining hers.

The late afternoon rush started to pick up, customers crowding the stand and filling the air with energy. Y/N moved quickly, handing out orders with a confidence that felt natural now. Haknyeon worked beside her, the two moving in sync like they’d been doing this for years.

When the last customer left and the evening quiet settled in, Y/N leaned against the counter, her hair slightly messy and her apron stained but her smile brighter than ever. Haknyeon stood beside her, his own face lit up in the glow of the stand’s neon sign.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what’s next for you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, gazing out at the street. “I don’t know. For the first time, I’m okay not knowing. I kind of like it here.”

“Yeah?” Haknyeon’s voice was hopeful, his gaze steady on her.

“Yeah.” Y/N turned to him, her smile softening. “I used to think this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me, but now…” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Now, I think it’s the best thing.”

Haknyeon stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers on the counter. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.”

The moment hung in the air, thick with tension but also something lighter—something that made Y/N’s heart pound in her chest.

“This is so not fair,” she murmured, her voice catching.

“What isn’t?” Haknyeon asked, his brows knitting together.

“You,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “You looking at me like that. You being here. You… making me feel this way.”

Haknyeon’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “I guess life has a funny way of being unfair sometimes.”

Before she could think, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was soft but filled with every unspoken word between them. Y/N froze for a moment, then melted into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders.

When they finally pulled apart, Haknyeon rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been waiting to do that for weeks.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Well, you sure took your time.”

“I didn’t think you were ready,” he admitted, his voice low.

“I wasn’t,” she said honestly. “But now, I think I am.”

As they stood there, bathed in the neon glow of the stand that had brought them together, Y/N realized that maybe life wasn’t about being fair. It was about taking what it gave you and finding the moments that made it all worthwhile.

And in that moment, with Haknyeon’s arms around her, she felt like she’d found exactly that.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[cherr-22]

TNGDH 32

“Gasp…… Ugh. I’m dying…….”

After leaving the study, I ran like crazy. I ran like I’ve never ran before.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from my room. If I weren’t fast enough, the ‘Summon’ duration would end and I would’ve disappeared in the middle of the hallway, leaving behind nothing but my clothes.

After running at full speed, I went into the bed, covered myself with the blanket, and canceled the ‘Summon’. With that, I was summoned back to where I designated in advance, under the sawdust.

―Squeak. (Whew.)

At this rate, I might end up passing away young…….

I stumbled towards the middle of the hamster house and laid on my back with my arms and legs stretched out. The sky is yellow. So yellow.

“Did you exercise? You look tired.”

Kyle appeared suddenly and picked me up while I was still panting. He began to kiss all over me. With no strength to even lift up a paw, I helplessly received all his affectionate gestures.

―Squeak……. (Are you content now…��.)

“I understand, I understand. I also like you a lot.”

―Squeak……. (This clueless bastard…….)

“Today, I will make you a present.”

Kyle, who put me down, put a handful of duck feathers into the handkerchief he laid out for me last night. Then, he carefully began to quilt it.

Although it looked a little awkward and had threads sticking out, it came out better than the dish scrub he made before. Have you been practicing these days?

I peered at his face with my barely open eyes. There was a warm smile that contrasted with the endless winter out the window.

What are you so happy about.

It’s just a demonic beast.

As I felt the handkerchief being carefully placed on my back, I slowly closed my eyes..

―Squeak……. (This diligent, tactless, warm-hearted bastard…….)

One day, this moment would become a memory to think back about after I return back to my world.

It would be a happy memory to remember.

*

―…….

“…….”

“…….”

It was a suffocating silence..

I looked back and forth at Kyle and the magician, who were both watching me put up a guard.

It had been thirty minutes since the magician entered the study. They constantly observed me as if I were a lab rat. Stop staring please. It’s really burdensome.

Gulp.

A swallow was heard throughout the room.

The culprit was the nervous magician next to Kyle.

“T-then, I will start now.”

As if he had finally made up his mind, the magician, who looked to be middle-aged, lifted me up carefully.

The lift was uncomfortable. The palm I was sitting on was shaking hard as if an earthquake occurred.

―Squeak……. (Excuse me, sir…….)

Are you trying to play with me or what?

I sat on the shaking palms and gave him a wary look.

You must be nervous with Kyle glaring at you as if he were going to rip you to pieces, but it’s not like Kyle would actually shred you. He’s just worried. He’s just an ordinary demonic beast lover.

After wiping his sweat with the back of his hand, the magician began to inject blue mana into my body. I closed my eyes and hugged tight onto the cashew nut in my hands.

I didn’t know how my body would react to this and neither did the system, but I had no choice but to take a gamble. Kyle would’ve used all possible methods he could find to make me grow.

Right. It’s better to get this done and over with.

―……?

Bam.

My body was pushed slightly to the side along with the sound of something blunt hitting each other.

I held tighter onto the cashew nut I almost dropped and stretched out my neck to look around like a meerkat. Wh-what was that? Something just flew by?

“……Did you do it?”

“I did, however…….”

There was a crushing silence. The magician swallowed again nervously before placing his hand on my body once more.

“This…… this time I’ll try injecting harder.”

Despite saying that, he was still shaking incredibly.

Your life must also be a rough ride. I pat the magician’s hand with my front paw and took a short, deep breath. Come, I am ready.

“……Hmph!”

The magician made a weird grunting sound before drawing up a palm full of blue mana energy. Then, the moment the powerful mana shot out and made contact with my body…

Ting.

Ting.

Bam.

My body rolled back twice before colliding with the wall. I was buried in Kyle’s knitted yarns.

“Cashew!”

Kyle quickly picked me up. I shook my head and felt some static electricity penetrating my whole body.

‘Just what exactly is happened?’

What happened? Is mana supposed to feel this shocking?

[The in□able power □s d□sp□.]

I blankly stared at the system window that appeared in front of my eyes. The letters were broken into pixels and were difficult to read, but I felt I knew what it was saying.

‘Is it saying that the mana of my body and this world are colliding? Is it the same for the unexpected appearance of the beast during the reconnaissance?’

As I was lost in my thoughts, Kyle checked my entire body for any wounds.

“……Your Highness. This, I don’t think this is your typical demonic beast.”

The magician said in a hushed voice as he formed a puddle below his feet from his sweat.

“If this little one isn’t a demonic beast, what could it possibly be!”

Kyle covered me with his palm as he shouted at the magician who stood far away from him and flinched.

Hey, hey. Don’t be like that. It isn’t his fault.

“H-however, it’s not only not accepting the mana, it’s even reflecting it back…….”

While the magician rambled, I picked up the cashew nut that had flown away. The end was slightly cracked from the impact earlier. It also looked like there was a bit of dust on it.

―…….

I threw the cashew nut in frustration. Forget it. I’m not eating this dirty thing. I should use ‘Summon’ and eat something nicer.

I sat back down and watched two people arguing- no, one person suffering from the rage of the other. It’s not like I could stop the fight with this body of mine. I would have to wait for them to finish on their own.

Thinking like that, I revisited the system window with the pixel letters.

“Your Highness!”

I turned my head at the sudden voice and the study door flinging open.

It was a face I knew. He was one of Kyle’s knights in the scouting party.

“What’s the matter. A guest is here, so quickly state your matter.”

“M-my apologies! However, a letter arrived saying that Prince Belial had been attacked……!”

“……attacked?”

……What? Attacked?

I jumped up.

Kyle chased off the magician and put me back into the hamster house. After closing the house, he approached the knight at the door.

Hey. Talk inside the room! Let me hear it too!

I pressed my ears against the transparent wall. Fortunately, the study door was not completely closed, so I was able to vaguely hear the conversation.

In summary, Belial, who was returning back to the imperial palace, was ambushed by an unknown group. It was a serious incident that caused the carriage to overturn, but because the location was closer to the imperial palace, it took time for the news to reach the Blake estate……

I crossed my arms and paced back and forth in the hamster house.

The early part of <The Winter’s Heart>. The only attack I knew at this point of the novel was the ambush on Kyle that resulted in him getting wounded on his right arm.

But that incident didn’t occur on Kyle due to my interference. So instead, Belial was attacked?

‘……Something’s not right.’

Does that mean the unknown force behind the ambush on Kyle in the original story wasn’t from Belial? I thought deeply while rocking on the swing.

The controlling power within the imperial palace was definitely the second prince, Belial. I’d hate to admit, but he had exceptional leadership skills and a captivating smile, making him popular among the people.

Then was it different within the palace? As far as I knew, some subjects already openly considered Belial to be the future emperor even though the 1st prince was still alive.

‘But, what was his name again?’

Suddenly, a system window appeared.

[Lorenz Serena Meinhardt was weak-minded and cowardly. He couldn’t compete with Kyle in force, nor could he beat Belial in intellect. All he had left was the pride of being the 1st prince.

‘Right. It was Lorenz.’

I disliked him so much I even forgot his name.

I recalled the description of him from the story. With a hair color lighter than Belial’s, he was said to have a sharp appearance that resembled his mother, Serena. His thick eyebrows and clear facial features were said to resemble the emperor.

[눈_눈]

### ‘눈’ means ‘eye’. The emote resembles a frowning face.

Yeah. Like that.

However, the imperial family valued tradition and legitimacy. No matter how much power Belial held, he would not be able to become the emperor.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Prince Lorenz had no support at all, and the emperor probably would want to entrust the country to his eldest son.

That was why I thought Lorenz wouldn’t interfere with Belial’s matters. He could become the emperor even if he stood still, so there was no need to make a mess.

―Squeak. (This is all so confusing.)

While I spun the hamster wheel with my hands habitually, Kyle returned to the study with a slightly depressed look on his face.

It seemed everything has settled down. How kind of you to worry about your enemy like that.

With a short sigh, I used ‘Summon’. He didn’t seem to have the spirit to look after the hamster, so this would be the perfect time to become Shu.

Above all, the small hamster body wouldn’t be able to give Kyle the comfort he needed. For now, I want to be be his side as a human being.

--------------------------------------------------------

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[bearieio]

my girls

older!girldad!price x younger!babysitter!reader

warnings:  none really…. just price fluff, price has twin daughters bc he’s literally girldad coded and i love him :((( , age gap; price is like in his early-40s, and reader is in her early/mid-20s ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝

a/n: i wanna make this a sorta series kinda thing with multiple parts.......... but PLEASE I NEED MORE IDEAS PLS SEND THEM IN PLEASE-

during your sophomore year of college, you started babysitting for a military captain. 

but of course you were sorta skeptical about babysitting for someone you’d only met a few times at your previous job. 

price had become a regular at the cafe you had worked at, always ordering the same thing. a small coffee, black. you guys had talked enough to the point where you looked forward to seeing each other almost every morning before john made his way to work.

one morning he’d come in, holding the hands of two small girls who looked almost identical. the only difference. between them was their hair. the girl on his left had long, dark brown hair with bangs. the girl on his right had shorter, messier hair, and she wore glasses. 

you watched as they walked up to the counter, hand-in-hand.

“hiii~” your eyes shift over to the girl with longer hair, “hello~” you replied, waving both of your hands at the two girls, eager to learn their names. 

“hey y/n-” john chimes in, smiling at you behind the counter, in front of those ipad things that they use at coffee shops these days. 

“oh!- these are my daughters! this is marnie,” referring to the girl on the left. she looks up at you, smiling, revealing a front tooth missing. “and this is aurora.” the girl to his left hid behind his leg, waving slightly up at you.

“hello girls!!” price had mentioned his daughters a couple times before, but you’d never met them until that day. you knew immediately that you were going to be verryyyy fond of them :)

it’s been a year and a half since that day. 

since then, you’ve earned your own room within the price house, which is actually more convenient than your last place of residence because his house is a 10 minute walk from where the campus was. 

at first it started out as you coming to their house to watch the girls while john went to work, while he was away, or even just when he had work he had to get done at home. 

but now, you’re a full-time, live-in nanny! 

another thing is that john pays you very well. sometimes you feel bad because of how much he does for you and how much freedom you have, but he often assures you that he wants to pay you and he appreciates you a lot.

“no! john-“ you try and give the check back to him, “i’m already living in your home and eating your food!” he shoos away your hands from trying to give his money back, “it’s fiinnee, y/n. i want to. and plus you're not just some nanny.. marnie, aurora, and i we- we consider you to be family!"

you pause, looking up at john, your eyes going wide. “really?” 

you guys had only known each other for a year and then some. but family? since you’d cut off all contact with your biological relatives, you never thought that you’d become a part of another.

“yea! yea!” john affirms, “you do a lot around here. you’re so good with the girls and they love you. and i- i, um..” he looks down at the floor, “i’m pretty sure i love you too.”

since john’s friends and coworkers had already suspected that you guys already had a thing going on, it wasn’t much of a surprise when they were invited over to one of john's famous barbecues and the two of you announced that you’d been dating for a while.

“yea, you guys look really happy,” gaz said. “mhmm’s” and “yea’s” were said around the backyard, agreeing.

but when it came to telling aurora and marnie, it was actually quite easier than the both of you expected. 

you guys had been sitting at the table, everyone in their designated places. 

aurora on your left, and marnie on john’s right. the 4 of you sat across from each other.

“hey, girls.” john cleared his throat, “y/n and i have something to share with the two of you.” the girls look at their father, then at you, at each other, and then back at their father.

surprisingly, aurora was the first of the twins to speak. “are you and daddy boyfriend-girlfriend?” she asks, turning to you, her voice sounding both small and genuinely curious. 

“well- i… yes!” you say, turning your head towards john to see his reaction.

before anyone could say anything, aurora stands up on her chair, “I KNEW IT!!!” 

“honey- sweetheart get down from there-“ john raises his hands up, ready to catch her if she happens to fall.

all-in-all, the girls already knew as well! for 6 year olds, they sure know a lot! although, you guys didn’t really keep it a secret to begin with.

“do we have to call you mommy now?” aurora asks, her voice remaining small. you turn to her, smiling. “you call me whatever you want, aurora.” you say, not expecting them to immediately accept you, but also kind of hoping they would.

“so-so even stinky poopoo pants?” marnie chimes in, giggling as her dad helps her back down into her seat.

“if that’s what you want to call me, then so be it!” you reply, happy just being able to share moments with your 3 favorite people. 

constructive criticism is appreciated!!!

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I’m working on a thing where all the tributes of the 10th Hunger Games won separate games, ultimately leading to president Snow getting his shit rocked because he sucked from the beginning and TBOSAS proved that, and I was thinking about how all the tributes would have won their games. The way you play the game and what led to your victory will probably have impact on how you cope and what exactly triggers PTSD. I’ve been mostly focused on Lamina and Treech because I love the district 7 tributes they’re built different, but I’ll try to come up with as many as possible for this list:

Velvereen was a career, and scored multiple kills while working with them, but ultimately the alliance broke apart as their members died off in their attempts to hunt down others. Velvereen, being less murder-happy, didn’t get revenge killed, nor did she get overwhelmed by a tribute she attacked, which left her as the last of the pack standing. She won because her last opponent used a melee weapon and she used throwing knives. Thanks to the advantage she had by not only having a long range weapon, but also a lifetime of training to hone her accuracy, she ended their would-be-battle swiftly and took the win.

Facet was also a part of the career pack, not necessarily hunting people down but going out of his way to kill whoever he came across that wasn’t a career. His weapon of choice was a spear, and he won by leaving the career pack when the water got a bit too hot under the team’s feet, and spearing the last tribute like a cannibal-style meat skewer.

Sabyn made full use of her superior health and knowledge of building structures in an urban arena. Aside from using her skill with the mace to bludgeon people to death, she also used it to hit all the weak points in the structures and collapsed walls on top of people. She took out the last remaining tributes by collapsing a building on top of them and killing off the survivors with her mace.

Marcus spent most of his games using his vastly superior physical strength and more well-fed state to his advantage, knowing most of his allies were waiting for the moment they thought they no longer needed him to get rid of him. His solution was to run awa- just kidding he killed them all in their sleep and used the intellect everyone thought he lacked for the rest of the games until the final fight, where he bashed the other tribute’s head into the rocks and then choked them to death.

Teslee wins her games by using her knowledge of electronics to reactivate the mines around the starting platforms and hiding in the cornucopia when there’s only four people left. When the mutts drive everyone to the middle of the arena, they’re subsequently blown up.

Circ wins his games in similar fashion to Teslee, except he gets forced to help the careers with his intellect and knowledge of technology. In response, Circ uses his intellect and knowledge of technology to trick the careers into protecting him and handing him weapons until he no longer needs them, then having the plan they made him execute literally blow up in their face and electrocuting several of them in the process. The last career is killed when Circ evades their attacks until they hit an electrical line with their fully metal weapon.

Coral probably won the same way she almost did in the movie. She was part of the career pack and made sure to be the one to backstab their allies first. There is no little brother figure for her to be worried about, nor are there snakes designed to kill every last person in the arena, so she has all the room and time she needs to handily shish kebab the last tribute and claim victory.

Mizzen doesn’t have as much brutal efficiency, nor the physique that Coral did even though I’m aging him up. He instead wins by mixing her strategy with the tried and true method of staying away from the things that could turn you into a pincushion. It’s like Marcus’ approach in reverse, starting with intellect and finishing with brute strength. He joins the careers, but as soon as things go slightly south he takes out the biggest threat when they aren’t paying attention and runs for the hills (or ocean, because district 4). He lures the last tribute to a body of water by pretending to run away and using the dark so they don’t see the cliff coming, and once they’re in his territory he uses his net to catch them and his trident or knife to finish them off.

Lamina cries so much in the lead up to the games that everyone, including her mentors, have given up on her. Once the games actually begin she surprises everyone with her strategy and skill with an ax, climbing a mountain high enough that people can’t kill her without going up themself and only coming down when she has to. When she does, she stockpiles water and food so she can stay up as long as possible while waiting for the others to whittle down the numbers. On one of her runs she finds a tribute who had a run in with the careers and was tortured almost to death. At their request, she puts them out of their misery. At the end of the games she’s barely got a scratch on her and is still at peak health for the circumstances. She’s forced to come down by the gamemakers, and all but one tribute is killed by the mutts. However, they’re so badly hurt that they beg her to just finish it and end their torment, at which point she hands out a second mercy kill.

Treech won his games by focusing on survival during training and pretending to be very bad at wielding an ax, only showing enough skill to avoid suspicion since he’s from the lumber district. He used good looks and charm during the interview to gain sponsors and talked about home to set up a proper sob story to get sympathy. He used the confusion of the cornucopia to snatch some of the supplies further away from the cornucopia and stays hidden from other tributes for the entirety of his games. Thanks to his stealing from everyone, including the careers, without getting caught, he has enough screen time to maintain his sponsors without putting himself in too much danger, especially before he gets his hands on an ax. His only kills occur during the final minutes of the games, where he jumps the last three careers once he realizes they won’t fight each other until he’s dead and waiting for the capitol to send mutts is more dangerous. He uses the element of surprise to jump the careers, cleaving one in the head and throwing his ax at the career with a long range weapon, before using his knife to injure the last tribute while stopping them from fatally wounding him until he manages to pull the ax from the body of the second career, turning to avoid a swing and gain momentum before swinging down and planting his ax in the last kid’s neck, killing them instantly.

Bobbin lost his arm in the games (I cannot see him as someone that isn’t Knox Gibson), and killed someone with a needle since he knows five ways to do exactly that. After losing his arm, he stayed alive by sewing it and several dangerous gashes closed so he wouldn’t bleed to death. He tripped the second to last other tribute using thread from his clothing and they got ripped to shreds by mutts that had been released into the arena. The last person was killed with that same thread, a brick, and yet again a needle.

Wovey used her perceived disadvantage (again, I cannot see a Wovey that isn’t Sofia Sanchez) by making everyone believe she’s weak. The arena was an industrial terrain not unlike district eight, which meant hiding was a piece of cake for her. Also, she used her knowledge of these kinds of buildings to lead whatever tribute was chasing her around until they were in a prime place for her to strike or ran into another tribute to strike for her. The last tribute was pushed into a machine, which crunched them to death.

Sheaf used her agility to her advantage, and luckily there was a sickle in the arena for her so her strategy became to rush at people with melee weapons, who would then predictably prepare to block a head-on attack, only to duck past them and cleave them in the back. She won her games by tiring her opponent out and decapitating them.

Panlo picks up on skills easily, and in the three days he had at the training centre he learned to shoot pretty decently with a bow and arrow. He’s best with a sickle, but they didn’t have those in his arena and he’d rather stay long range so bow and arrow it was. Nobody expected him to become so proficient so quickly, and since none of the careers used bows Panlo waited until after the bloodbath to run to the cornucopia and grab the set, as well as some supplies. He spent his games scoping out good sniper posts and shooting anyone who got too close for comfort, winning the games by waiting for the last two to finish duking it out and shooting the winner in the stomach, then finishing it with a shot through the chest.

Tanner won his games by joining an alliance (not the careers) and relying on their numbers to keep others from attacking him for as long as possible. During the final fight he uses his strength to wrestle the other person to the ground and uses his knife and experience from working in the slaughterhouses to gut them.

Brandy wins her games by using everything she knows from the slaughterhouses to kill the other tributes. During her last battle, she wrestles the other tribute to the ground and snaps their neck.

Dill is also aged up, and used her fragile state to play innocent before dropping all sorts of deadly things on people’s heads from the trees and poisoning them with her knowledge of agriculture.

Reaper is basically Thresh if Thresh hadn’t died so the capitol could have their star-crossed lovers death battle (you cannot tell me the storm didn’t have that exact purpose, the mutts are more ambiguous). Physically intimidating and strong, but deciding to lay low for most of the games rather than going on a rampant murder spree. He refuses to play the game and doesn’t kill anyone until he and one of the careers are the last two standing. The skirmish ends with Reaper scoring a revenge kill for his district partner, who was killed by this tribute.

Jessup used his strength to to intimidate the other tributes into steering clear of him. He joins the careers right until they’ve got one more dangerous tribute to get rid of, at which point he knows it’s time to cut his losses and run away. He keeps the careers alive, because he needs them to get rid of the other tribute and he’s lower on the priority list, but he knows that once that kid’s gone he’s the next to go. So he subtly stalls them until a night where it’s his turn to watch and grabs as many supplies as he can quietly get his hands on and leaves them behind. Another tribute stumbles across them and gets rid of half the pack, but that’s not Jessup’s concern. He wins the games by smashing a bottle over another tribute’s head and stabbing them to death with the shards.

Lucy Gray Baird wins by becoming the capitol favorite for her games. Her “performance” leads to her getting more sponsors than even some of the careers, which allows her to stay alive without having to put herself into much danger to get supplies. She wins by singing to snake mutts until they recognize her scent and stop attacking her, at which point she has venomous sentient weapons in her arsenal which she makes full use of, taking out two tributes with snake bites and ultimately distracting the last other tribute with them, using the opening it gives her to kill them.

I genuinely cannot think of anything for Hy, Sol, Ginnee or Otto for now, sorry 😅.

[safetycar-restart]

I’m back with little!asks!

I’m aware that this topic may make people uncomfortable so I’ll give a little preview: this ask talks about simulated breastfeeding and general baby-age little!care. So, please stop now if that will make you uncomfortable.

As we know, little!Arthur regresses very little, and therefore relies on his mama to care for him. So, imagine for Christmas or perhaps even the anniversary of their little/caregiver relationship. His mama gifts him a breastfeeding simulator, explaining that now, he can curl up on his mama’s lap and just latch onto her to his hearts content. Just imagine rocking him back and forth, rubbing his back while he relaxes against his mama.

Equally, you know those long pieces of material that allow babies to hang from their parents against their chest. What if there was one designed for littles. I think that whenever a little was overwhelmed or sick, or just wants to rest, their mama would put them in that just sing to them. This whole idea is so cute to me. Little Arthur or Charles just pressed up against their mama’s chest as happy as can be able to calm down against their heartbeat and sleep if necessary 🥺

-🎞️

Aw yes the return of the little!au!! For anyone new, the little au is different from just discussing little drivers because in the AU, everyone in the world is either a little or a caregiver, in the same way that the d/s au is different from just discussing sub!drivers.

Firstly, I think things like breastfeeding simulators (which I had to google by the way) would probably be quite commonplace in this AU? Because it’s not uncommon to have littles who regress very young and who would enjoy and benefit from their caregiver using one of them.

Because of how young Arthur regresses, it would definitely be something you had been considering buying. And when your anniversary came up, it just made sense?

Arthur is a little confused when you show him it, but when you explain he’s instantly smiling and blushing because he knows that when he regresses he would LOVE it.

The next day he regresses and you get to try it out for the first time with him. Honestly the biggest hassle is just getting it on because you can’t hold him at the same time which makes poor little Arthur very unhappy. He’s too little to understand his mama is getting something ready so that he can snuggle even nicer than before, all he knows is he can see his mama doing something with her top and she won’t come over and give him snuggles!!!

Luckily you figure it out pretty quickly and you can join a Arthur in bed. The moment you’re with him he instantly forgets all about how he was upset before because his mama is here!!

You have to explain to him again that he can latch on now and suckle, because the poor little thing doesn’t quite understand. Yes you explained this to Arthur earlier, but that was when he was in his adult headspace and little Arthur can’t remember that!!

In the end you just gently take his head and direct him to the nipple and he wears his lips around it all on his own. He suckles a little, like it’s a dummy and that’s when the milk comes and oh! Oh he likes it!! He squirms so happily in your lap, humming a little cause it feels so nice!!

He falls asleep like that of course, all nicely cuddled up.

And I love the idea of having those wrap things for adult littles as well. Obviously they’re too heavy to physically carry, but there’s so much added security and safety from just laying or sitting with their caregiver and being all wrapped up like that.

I think that’s something that little!charles in particular just loves? He definitely naps the best like that, feeling so nice and safe.

I’m actually unsure if little!arthur would like it, mostly because I think he wriggles around a lot? He’s a very squirmy little boy!! And so being wrapped so close like that can stop him from being able to and make him feel a little claustrophobic. Unlike Charles who just instantly falls asleep.

[writing-rat]

Tattoo Talks

Pairings: Sammy x Joey

Content: Fluff, talk of tattoos, Joey needs a hug

Summary: Joey asks about Sammy's tattoos when she is on lunch break. Sammy is happy to tell.

WC: 970

It had been months after both the girls survived Abigail’s rampage and both were as scarred as each other so they were living together, Caleb also being with them. Caleb was close to his mom once again and his new step-mom too. It was a family come true… plus he liked her tattoos. The women were currently doing their own thing. Joey was looking for jobs, but she was struggling immensely due to the fact that she was discharged for stealing drugs from the military. Sammy meanwhile had managed to get a job as a software designer and an ethical hacker too, making sure that companies were safe from potential hacks. Sammy was happy paying for the rent and everything but Joey also wanted to be independent, Sammy knew that. She was nothing but supportive of her girlfriend. 

After an hour, Joey closed the computer lid gently before punching the counter. “What did we say about punching walls or counters?” Sammy immediately called into the kitchen from the living room that was connected. 

“Not to do it, sorry baby,” Joey called back apologetically. She was ashamed she let her anger get to her. 

“It’s ok. Just take a breather,” Sammy replied. 

“Want a cup of coffee?” Joey asked, peeking into the living room where Sammy was. She was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top that definitely belonged to Joey. 

“Yes please, you know how I like it,” Sammy responded with a smile and looked at her wife. Joey nodded as she went back into the kitchen to make it.

5 minutes later she was out and sat down next to Sammy, who started to yawn and saved her code. It was nearly lunchtime at least for Sammy, having her break at 12 and it was currently 11:56. “You’ll get a job soon baby, I know it,” Sammy spoke quietly. “For now you can be a good housewife,” she joked. Joey couldn’t help but laugh as she kissed the blonde and leaned into her, focusing on her tattoos again. 

“I am not meant to be a housewife,” Joey chuckled. “Plus you clean more than me,” she added with a grin. Sammy nodded as she leaned back and wrapped an arm around the mother. 

“That’s true. Very true. I love you, babe,” Sammy responded. 

“I love you too,” Joey spoke before kissing the woman. The younger woman kissed back immediately as she smiled. That was when Joey couldn’t help but ask something. 

“Can you explain your tattoos to me? We aren’t on the job after all now,” Joey teased. 

“Very true. Glad you asked,” Sammy grinned. She hoped Joey would ask eventually and she did. She had seen the MILF stare at them a lot. “The dragon is a representation of the anger inside me. Especially when I’m on my period as you know. When I look at it, I calm down immensely,” Sammy spoke, showing the dragon off. Joey was listening intently and staring at the tattoos she talked about. “My hand tattoos that say Fuck Mom was done when I was annoyed at my family. I still am but the bond is regrowing now. I just need to hide my hands when we meet,” Sammy joked. Ever since the incident with Abigail, Sammy had been trying to talk to her parents, and try and be a good child. It was going well so far. Sammy soon pointed to the hearts on her shoulder. “These are for the 2 pet cats I lost. All died of old age,” she spoke. Joey just nodded, patting her shoulder.

After a quick break of 4 minutes, both drinking their coffee, Sammy continued. She pointed to the alien. “The alien one was when I was 18 and believed in aliens. I still do, to be honest,” Sammy chuckled. “The spider is for me being able to beat my fear of them. I used to panic but now they’re friends,” she grinned. She was still proud of herself. “This cross from a bet. It was a stupid bet but we don’t care about that,” Sammy laughed. Joey grinned. 

“Think of it as a commemoration for living a vampire,” Joey offered. Sammy clicked her fingers. 

“I love that idea,” she spoke and kissed Joey. “It’ll be that now.” She pointed to the face with barbed wire for teeth (or Joey assumed). “This was my first tattoo my friend did. We just did it when I was high and yeah…” Sammy explained ashamed. Joey shrugged. 

“It has a cool design,” Joey complimented it. 

“Thank you,” Sammy spoke happily. She then lifted her arm, showing the one that was a ball from snooker or bingo and it had the number 8. “8 is my lucky number as you know, and I like playing snooker so it was perfect,” she explained. She pointed to the back of her shoulder. “There I have a tree tattoo. I am continuously growing in different ways, just like a tree,” she spoke. That was all the tattoos she had now. 

“Do you plan on getting more? One arm looks very empty after all,” Joey joked. Sammy laughed and nodded. 

“I was thinking of getting a sun one. Gives a new meaning to life, especially after Abigail,” Sammy explained. Joey nodded. “And I was wondering if we could get a matching one, you and me. Stakes that say each other name,” Sammy explained. Joey was shocked before she nodded. 

“We can do that,” Joey spoke. She didn’t have any tattoos but she would get one for Sammy, she would do anything for her. As the lunch break for Sammy went on, the 2 continued to talk about whatever, mostly the matching tattoo. 

Both were still alive, and they would commemorate a tattoo of it. They had to, it was fate.