#I know it’s my fault for caring too much and getting too attached to people I can’t expect people to feel the same way I do

[whimsyprinx]

am truly just wasting my time out here and for what?

[ddejavvu]

omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking

Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.

"Sir? Is everything okay?"

He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.

Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?

"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.

"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"

"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"

Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."

"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"

"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"

"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.

"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.

"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."

"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."

Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."

Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.

For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.

Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.

"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.

"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.

"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."

Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."

"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"

He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."

"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."

[creatur3featur3]

Street Rat p2

word count: 3.6k (WOO ON A ROLL LOVES!!)

A/N: DEFINITELY out of my writers block! only took about, 3 hours? usually takes me like a full day when i'm unmotivated but here we are!

----Enjoy Loves----

Okay so maybe you were following Sevika around for weeks on end now, but it wasn't exactly your fault- it was hers.

All that being nice and giving you food, or just being human and providing for someone who obviously couldn't take care of herself properly. She had been dying to get you off her tail with you following her like a stray dog constantly, you were ruining her reputation with your weird attachment to her. 

The regulars she played cards with gave you weird glances but she always seemed to scare them off from bothering you when you were digging around in people's dumped junk with a stern gaze. You definitely seemed to live up to your name of a street rat with your constant wandering off to find someone that shined under the dim lights of the Undercity’s lamp posts, she had even gotten you a small bag as well which had honestly surprised you.

You scoffed when she threw it to you, “Are you serious? I don't need this shit.” you spat sharply, god she wished she could rip that  sharp tongue out of yours out of your mouth. She set down her cup, whatever liquid she was drinking sloushing out.

“You think I don't see you storing your little trinkets out in dumped boxes? You're pathetic, the amount of times I've seen people swipe from your little stashes is ridiculous.” Your brow furrows at her words, you're not pathetic, you're smart, hell- brilliant even! “WELL, Miss.im so smart, i'll have you know I have many stashes around the city,”

“and how many of them stay full?”

you pause.

“...like.. three maybe…” you admit with a pout, “Then take the bag” she says sternly.

You grumble as you snatch the bag off the table, examining it with cold eyes but muttering a quiet “thank you” under your breath- then you're gone.

You choose not to stick around her during the day, too many eyes, you stay on the outskirts of the city- just like today. 

you squirm up the broken fire escape, trying your best to host yourself up with- little success. You hate to admit that Sevika’s ‘gift’ was actually pretty helpful, much more storage for cogs and other useful stuff- only downside is that you put way too much stuff in it.

“come on!-" You hiss under your breath as you hang onto the railing, trying to throw the bag up onto the floor of the fire escape so you can get yourself up. Such you were fit, your worked out a good amount, but.. your weren't exactly sure what to really work out.

The bag thudded onto the rusty fire escape with a loud clang, the sound echoing down the alleyway below. You winced, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one had heard. The last thing you needed was some nosy thug poking around while you were mid-scramble.  

"Stupid bag," you muttered, wiping sweat off your brow. The thing had been helpful, sure, but damn if it wasn’t heavier than you thought it would be with all the “essentials” you’d crammed into it.  

With a deep breath, you grabbed the edge of the fire escape again, gritting your teeth as you hoisted yourself up. Your muscles strained against the weight of your own body, your arms trembling as you kicked your legs to get some momentum. “Okay... almost there...”  

Finally, with a groan, you managed to drag yourself up, collapsing onto the cold metal floor with a loud huff. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the dim, flickering lights of the Undercity’s skyline, panting like you’d just run a marathon.  

“Maybe I should’ve worked out more…” you mumbled, glaring at the bag now sitting innocently beside you.  

The memory of Sevika tossing it to you came to mind, her cold, stern gaze practically daring you to argue with her. She hadn’t been wrong about your stashes getting raided—half of them were basically public property at this point—but still, you’d never admit she had a point. That’d be giving her too much satisfaction.  

As much as you hated to admit it, the bag was starting to feel like a lifeline. Not just because it kept your things safe, but because... well, it was from her.  

You sighed, sitting up and brushing your hands off on your pants. “Whatever,” you muttered to yourself, swinging the bag over your shoulder again. “It’s just a stupid bag. Doesn’t mean anything.”  

As you climb further up the ladders you find yourself at what you call, home. The climb had left your muscles burning, but as you finally pulled yourself up to the top platform, a sense of relief washed over you. This was your little corner of the world, tucked high above the chaos of the Undercity, where few dared to tread.

"Home sweet home," you muttered, glancing at the haphazard setup before you.

The patchwork of old carpets and threadbare blankets was hardly luxurious, and the wooden crates stacked into a leaning structure could barely be called stable. Still, it had its charm—if only because it was yours. 

You ducked under the slanted “roof” of your makeshift tent, the faint smell of oil and dust filling your nose as you tossed the bag onto the ground with a loud thud. Sliding down onto the pile of blankets you called a bed, you let out a long, drawn-out exhale, the tension in your shoulders finally releasing.  

After a few moments, you sat up, rolling your sleeves as you reached for the bag. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got this time,” you murmured to yourself, the habit of talking aloud in your solitude one you never quite managed to break.  

One by one, you started pulling items from the bag: cogs, rusted bolts, wires tangled like a bird’s nest, a couple of scraps of metal that might be useful if you ever found a decent buyer. You laid them out in neat rows, sorting them with a critical eye.  

“Junk, maybe useful, definitely junk, hmm… potential,” you muttered, setting aside a few pieces you deemed worth keeping.  

Every so often, you paused to examine an item more closely, holding it up to the dim light filtering through the cracks of your tent. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you found a small, intact gear with its teeth still sharp. “Hah, not bad,” you said to no one, setting it aside with a sense of triumph.  

This was your ritual, your little piece of order in an otherwise chaotic world. Sorting through the refuse of the Undercity, finding bits and pieces that others had discarded without a second thought—it wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours. 

Your contented sorting came to an abrupt halt as the distant noise filtered up through the layers of steel and grime below. First, it was the sharp crack of something breaking—glass, maybe, or a chair being hurled against a wall. Then came the muffled yelling, too distorted by the distance to make out the words.  

You froze, your fingers hovering over a twisted wire. It wasn’t unusual to hear fights in the Undercity; hell, it was practically the soundtrack of the place. But this time was different.  

This time, you recognized the low, gravelly tone of one of the voices. Sevika.  

Your stomach twisted as you strained to listen, hoping you’d misheard. But there it was again—her voice, cutting through the chaos with a sharp bark of anger.  

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to your feet. For a moment, you hesitated, torn between staying put in the safety of your little hideout and the nagging pull of curiosity—and maybe worry—that pushed you toward the ladder.  

Another crash, louder this time, made the decision for you. You grabbed the strap of your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you moved toward the edge of the platform. Your heart pounded as you carefully climbed down, your usual annoyance at the shaky fire escape forgotten in your rush.  

By the time you reached the lower levels, the noise had grown louder, more distinct. You crept closer, ducking behind a stack of crates as you peered around the corner.  

There she was, Sevika, in the middle of a small brawl. Three guys, maybe more, circled her like vultures, but she looked as unfazed as ever, her mechanical arm gleaming under the dim light as she sent one of them flying with a single swing.  

Your first instinct was to turn back, let her handle it. She was Sevika, after all; she didn’t need help. But as another thug lunged at her with a broken pipe, something in you snapped.  

“Damn it,” you hissed, gripping the edge of the crate as you tried to come up with a plan. Or maybe you’d just jump in and wing it. Either way, you weren’t about to leave her hanging.

Though your- stupidity gets the best of you as you reach for a broken glass of whatever and throw it at one of the men, hitting his head

The moment the glass shattered against the man’s head, you felt a rush of pride. Bullseye. But that fleeting sense of accomplishment was quickly replaced with a cold, sinking feeling as the three men turned toward you, their expressions darkening like storm clouds.  

He wiped a hand over his face, now dripping with blood from a jagged cut the glass had left, his glare locking onto you like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’ve got a death wish, kid,” he growled, taking a menacing step forward.  

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, your bravado evaporating in an instant.  

Without another thought, you turned on your heel and bolted, your heart pounding in your ears as your boots slapped against the slick pavement. Behind you, the sound of shouts and heavy footsteps echoed as the men gave chase.  

“Stupid stupid stupid!!” you hissed to yourself, dodging around a stack of broken crates. This wasn’t exactly the first time your mouth—or in this case, your impulse to throw things—had gotten you into trouble, but this? This was a new level of stupid.  

You ducked into a narrow alley, squeezing through the gap between two rusted pipes as the men shouted behind you. Your pulse was racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you scanned the area for an escape route.  

Up ahead, you spotted a ladder leading to one of the upper platforms, the kind you’d climbed a hundred times before. “Come on, come on,” you whispered, practically leaping toward it.  

As you grabbed the rungs and started to climb, one of the men reached the base of the ladder, cursing loudly. He jumped, his fingers grazing your ankle, but you kicked out with a frantic yell, forcing him to let go.  

“Keep running, street rat!” one of them yelled.  

“Oh, I plan to!” you shouted back, your voice dripping with sarcasm despite the panic clawing at your chest.  

You scrambled onto the platform above, your legs burning and your breath coming in ragged gasps. From this vantage point, you could see Sevika below, taking advantage of your little distraction you created. For a split second, you thought about doubling back to help her, but another shout from below reminded you of your own predicament.  

"She better appreciate this," you muttered bitterly as you darted off into the shadows, praying you could lose your pursuers before they decided to make good on their threats. 

–

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Sevika snarled as you sat next to her at the little market you had come to know for your routine feeding, “those guys could've and would've killed you!” She hissed.

“I was helping!” you grumble, “Helping doesn't mean almost getting yourself killed!” Sevika shot right back.

“You should've been able to take those guys easily, they were so much smaller than you!”

“I had it.”

“Didn't seem like it Toolbox.”

“Stop calling me that,”

“Toolbox.”

“Street Rat.”

“Mines cooler anyways.” you hum, Sevika scoffs with a shake of her head, “You fucking wish.”

“Well,” you start, shoving the fruit you had stuffed in your bag into your mouth, biting into it sharply, the juices running down your chin- “I deserve a thank you.”

“You are not getting a thank you for making me worry,” Sevika spat, “awww, so you do care!” you hum sarcastically, “oh, my heart might just explode with joy!”

Sevika rolled her eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t pop out of her skull. “Don’t flatter yourself Rat. I care because you’re a liability. If you go and get yourself killed, that’s just one more mess I have to deal with.”  

You snorted, chewing noisily on your fruit. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Sevvy.”  

Her glare could have melted steel. “Call me that again and see what happens.”  

“Sevvy.” You said it sweetly, almost a purr, batting your lashes for extra effect.  

The mechanical fingers of her arm clenched with a faint hiss, and you couldn’t help but grin, even as she loomed closer, her presence casting a shadow over you. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she growled, voice low and dangerous.  

“And brains,” you added smugly, leaning back as if her looming didn’t faze you. “I mean, I did save your ass, remember?”  

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “If by ‘save’ you mean ‘made my life infinitely harder,’ then yeah. Thanks for that.”  

You bit into your fruit again, savoring its sweetness as you shrugged. “Same difference. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”  

“I’d sleep better, that’s for sure.”  

“Awww, Sev, you’re so sweet,” you teased, wiping juice off your chin with your sleeve. “No wonder people love you so much.”  

Her lips twitched, like she was fighting back a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re useful sometimes, Street Rat. Otherwise, I’d have tossed you into the gutter by now.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, grinning despite her insult. “Admit it, Sevika. You like having me around.”  

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she turned her attention back to her drink. You took that as a win, leaning back against the table with a satisfied smirk.

“So,” You hum as you throw the finished fruit onto the street, “Where we going now?”

Sevika stood up, pushing in her chair and throwing her cloak over her mechanical arm “I'm, going home.”

You frowned, tilting your head like a confused pup. “Home? What about me?”  

Sevika glanced over her shoulder, her expression flat. “What about you?”  

You scoffed, standing up and brushing the crumbs off your clothes. “I thought we were a team now.”  

She barked a laugh, the kind that was more mocking than amused. “Team? Don’t flatter yourself, Toolbox. You’re just a stray I can’t seem to shake off.”  

You put your hands on your hips, leaning forward as you shot her a challenging glare. “Stray or not, you’d be bored without me, and you know it.”  

“Bored?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow as she adjusted her cloak. “More like finally at peace.”  

“Sure, Sev, keep telling yourself that,” you quipped, falling into step beside her despite her best efforts to stride ahead.  

She stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a sharp glare. “What do you want, huh? A place to crash? A warm meal? Or do you just like annoying me?”  

You grinned, not missing a beat. “Little bit of all three, honestly.”  

She exhaled sharply, clearly trying to rein in her irritation. “You’re impossible.”  

“And yet, here we are,” you said with a cheeky shrug.  

For a moment, Sevika just stared at you, her jaw tightening as if she were debating whether to knock you out or just walk away. Finally, she shook her head, muttering something about bad decisions as she turned back toward the street.  

“Fine,” she said gruffly, not bothering to look back at you. “Follow me. But don’t think for a second this means I like you.”  

Your grin widened as you fell into step behind her. “Of course not, Sevvy. This is purely professional.”  

“Call me that again, and you’re sleeping in the gutter.”  

“Love you too,” you teased, earning a sharp growl from her as the two of you disappeared into the crowded streets of the Undercity.

God she hated you.

As you follow her not too far behind she doesn't look back- until she hears a loud CLUNK.

She looked back to see you diving into a dumpster, your legs propelling yourself further into it.

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, her mechanical arm twitching slightly as she turned to stare at you, her expression an unreadable mix of irritation and disbelief.  

“What the hell are you doing now?” she called out, her voice carrying that sharp edge of exasperation she reserved just for you.  

Your legs flailed for a moment, kicking at the air as you wormed your way further into the dumpster. “I saw something shiny!” you shouted back, your voice muffled by the metal container.  

Sevika pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. “Shiny? Are you a crow now?”  

“Shut up, it might be important!” you countered, your voice ringing with mock indignation.  

The dumpster rattled as you rummaged around, the sound grating on Sevika’s nerves. She glanced around, noting the amused���or horrified—looks from a few passersby. She sighed deeply, her patience wearing thin.  

“You know,” she said, her tone flat as she leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed, “there’s a fine line between being resourceful and being a complete idiot. Guess which side you’re on.”  

You didn’t respond immediately, too engrossed in whatever treasure you were hunting. A moment later, you popped your head out of the dumpster, holding up a slightly dented but intact pocket watch. “See? Totally worth it!” you declared, grinning triumphantly.  

Sevika raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A broken watch?”  

“It’s vintage!” you argued, shaking the watch for emphasis.  

“Yeah, sure. Vintage trash,” she shot back, turning on her heel. “Let’s go, before someone mistakes you for actual garbage.”  

You hopped out of the dumpster, brushing off your clothes as you jogged to catch up with her. “You’re just mad you didn’t see it first,” you teased, tucking the watch into your bag.  

She didn’t respond, but you swore you saw her roll her eyes as she picked up her pace, trying her best to ignore you.

But your voice was grating, the way you chatted away about god knows what, trying to take apart the watch as you walked, proving to Sevika by the brand name on the inside of the watch that it was definitely worth something.

“See? I told you, I know what's useless or, worthy!” You hum happily.

you were definitely a lot different from when Sevika first saw you, when you were a lot more sharp and,I guess hateful. Now here you are, talking her ear off about some history behind the watch.

Cute.

Sevika shook her head firmly, no, absolutely not, you were not cute or anything like that, you were a dingy kid from the streets, probably not even 26, you had your whole life ahead of you.

Sevika’s gaze flickered over to you as you babbled on about the intricate history behind the watch, your hands working quickly to twist and turn its parts, barely looking up as you walked beside her.  

“Mm-hmm, sure, sure,” she muttered, her focus on the path ahead, though her mind was starting to wander despite herself. You were relentless, a flurry of words and energy that kept bouncing from one topic to the next, your excitement practically buzzing through the air. It was almost impossible not to listen to you, even if she didn’t want to.  

But cute? No.  

You were just some kid, a street rat, sure, but not in a pathetic sense anymore. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe it was how you had this endless drive to find the value in everything, even when it was so easy for someone like her to overlook. Or how your once sharp edges seemed to have softened over time, the constant biting sarcasm now replaced with, well, an actual willingness to communicate, to engage.  

God, what the hell was wrong with her?

She tried shaking it off, focusing on the weight of her boots as they hit the cracked pavement. She was not about to get all sentimental or soft. That would be a mistake.  

“I’m serious, Sevika,” you continued, eyes sparkling as you looked up at her, “I could sell this for a few cogs. It’s pretty rare, maybe even more than that if I find the right buyer!”  

She made a noncommittal sound in her throat, but inside, something shifted just a bit. You really are something else, she thought.  

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to put some distance between herself and you before she made a mistake, but here she was, still walking beside you, letting you prattle on and on.  

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t go blowing it on something stupid,” she muttered, though there was a flicker of something in her voice that she quickly smothered.  

You gave her a sidelong glance, not missing the subtle change. “You really do care, huh?”  

She didn’t answer, instead pushing her shoulders back and picking up the pace, determined to ignore the way her heart seemed to tighten. She could still feel the eyes of the people around you—at least, that’s what she told herself.  

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just about saving you from getting yourself killed anymore. Maybe... she was just stuck with you, whether she liked it or not.  

“Keep dreaming, kid,” she said gruffly, her voice betraying none of the warmth creeping up her spine.  

“Aw, you're soft, Sev," you teased, and she felt her chest tighten even more.  

"Shut up, Streetie," she snapped, the words coming out far too fondly for her liking.  

“Streetie? that's a new one,” you giggle slightly, seeming to notice before you cleared your throat.

(turned it into a series :) p3 is out now!)

[phoenixyfriend]

Accountant of Theed

Read on AO3

After all is said and done, someone needs to balance these books, and nobody actually told the accounting department how they paid for this new hyperdrive. Mimi really hopes it's not a loan from the Hutts.

Disclaimer: I am not an accountant, but I work in an adjacent field (and have been considering getting a certification, but that's neither here nor there). While I did take some courses on it, I asked an Accounting Person to look over the excel sheet before I went forward with the rest of the fic to make sure it's internally consistent. Thank you to @gnomer-denois for confirming my balance on these works!

The reconciliation sheet does NOT follow contemporary guidelines in terms of format etc, but that is because it is:

In space! Standard practice differs from Modern United States or what have you.

Not the primary balance sheet, just the simplified version made to show to Queen Amidala.

If you'd prefer to view the Excel sheet in a more easily navigable form, there is a google drive link available. This is also your best option if using a screen reader.

-----------------------------------------

Theed is safe. They are rebuilding. There is even financial support, aid, from the Republic.

It comes with strings attached. Oversight. Auditors.

Wouldn’t want Naboo to misuse funding after that nasty mistake with the Trade Federation, right? Sure, Naboo wasn’t the one at fault, but one can never be too careful...

Mimi, as an accountant for the government of Naboo, does not in fact want to commit fraud, or enable corruption, but the rolling audits do feel a little like the Republic is punishing them for getting invaded.

“Hey, boss?”

That tone. Mimi does not like that tone. “Please tell me it’s not another unauthorized purchase with a missing receipt. Which account did they pull from this time?”

“Um... we don’t know?”

Mimi gives them a moment. No elaboration is given.

“You don’t know?”

“We don’t know,” the younger employee repeats.

“What do you mean?” Mimi asks. “People charge things to accounts or cards. They forget to submit receipts. We hunt them down for receipts, and make sure nobody is skimming off the top. That’s how it goes. Unless this is a purchase on a personal and we need to reimburse—”

“Um, maybe?”

“In which—what? That’s just... okay. There’s a process for reimbursements. You aren’t following it, which means... what? What do you mean, you don’t know? Did they use cash, or pull from an account?”

The younger employee looks down at their datapad. Looks back up at her. Looks baffled and a little scared. “Um, it’s... we still don’t have a receipt, but we also don’t know where the money for it came from? But nobody’s put in a reimbursement request and I can’t imagine anyone on the mission had those funds on them, not even the Queen herself.”

“The money for what?”

“Um. It sort of just... showed up?”

“So, it’s some kind of gift?” Mimi presses.

“Too big,” the younger mumbles, refusing to meet her eyes. “It would have to be disclosed.”

“I am giving you five seconds—”

“It’s a hyperdrive!” they yelp.

“...Explain.”

“One of the mechanics was looking over the Royal Cruiser, and found that there was unrecorded repair work to the hyperdrive. The ship took enough damage during the escape that he wasn’t surprised, but then he noticed that it was from an earlier run of the part, and when he checked, the serial number was completely wrong. The hyperdrive was completely replaced.”

Mimi closes her eyes and takes a breath. “The mechanic doesn’t know?”

“He said there’s nothing in the records that matches it at all, and it’s a big enough part that there’s no way it would just slip through the cracks, not when it’s that expensive and going on the Royal Cruiser.”

“So,” Mimi says, “we have a part worth almost as much as the rest of the cruiser combined, that just... came out of nowhere, and nobody claiming for reimbursement.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s what it looks like.”

Mimi has no interest in fraud.

“Find out who was piloting when Queen Amidala escaped, and see if they have any answers,” Mimi tells them. “If we can keep it to just the hangar staff without drawing in the Royal Retinue, it’ll be easier on all of us.”

“Here’s hoping, ma’am.”

(Continue on AO3)

[acciocriativity]

-> | You keep distancing yourself | Ateez Reaction (Hyung Line)

Some could call selfsabotage, others could say is insecure attachament style, but maybe, you're just tired of fighting a losing battle.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Ateez OT8 x gn! reader

WC: 2 k

N/A: This is my peace offering after vanishing for so long (please don't k word me)! I had this in my drafts for the longest time, but I only got enough motivation to finish it yesterday

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank you so much for reading my work!

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

His kakaotalk notifications were non-existent these days.

None of the boys were good texters, and their group chat was silent since Seonghwa asked for something he didn’t remember anymore a while ago. So why did he keep glancing at his phone across the table when he should be working? You never answered whether you would like to come see him next month or not.

“Aish..”, he suddenly got up and walked left and right in the tiny studio, every now and then hitting one of the chairs and acting like it was their fault.

Was it really too forward? Maybe you just were not comfortable with the idea. But you two met 5 months ago and you were never afraid to get out of any situation that made you uncomfortable, so you could just say no, no hard feelings. There’s always a next opportunity, right? So why, why didn’t you just reply?

His phone lighted up. A new yellow notification appeared and he ran to grab it. The simple thought of you messing with any rational thoughts on his mind.

He felt stupid as he read it, then dropped the device on the table, too dejected to care about Mingi’s lost earphones.

Since when did he become so clingy? Maybe you were just busy now, yeah, that was it.

And he wasn’t wrong. You were doing the most to busy yourself so you would have a perfectly acceptable reason to not answer him at all.

Any college assignment you had a month to do was now was a top priority. The new hobby you wanted to try for a while? You just started it. You barely talked to your brother nowadays, but in the last two weeks, you visited his family a couple of times.

Why? You knew what you were doing in the first few days. You got attached too soon, fell deep into a hole and only realized the moment he asked you to watch his concert, ‘It’d mean the world if you come see me on tour next month’ it said. You recalled one of those deep conversations you had some random night the moment you read it.

“It’s kind of embarrassing, but not at the same time”, you remembered how he looked down when you asked about it, the blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It gives me so much strength and makes me want to work harder whenever important people come to see us”.

He also said how he treasured whenever important people in his life would support him that way. Even through a simple video call, you saw how his eyes shined as he giggled, only to change the subject. A part of you wished to feel how it was to have a support system like he does, but you never thought you would be included in that category for him. You did not even know if you want to or if you could deal with the pain that always comes with giving your heart to people and letting people in.

So you refused to think about it.

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

He cleaned his throat as he saw you coming towards him at one of the many small corridors of KQ Entertainment.

“It’s now or never, now or never, now-”

You barely glanced at him as you walked into one of the empty meeting rooms like it was previously agreed.

Lucky him, nobody saw the disheartening expression on his face or how he hesitated to push the door open. His confidence level went back to below zero and instead of an easy smile, he could barely manage a shy smile and an unnecessary formal bow as he came in, it wasn’t like you did not know each other.

So maybe this collaboration would not go as smooth as he let the others convince him it would, still, he could talk to you and, hopefully, get back to the simple relationship you both once had.

“Hello, Seonghwa-ssi”, you said in such an indifferent polite tone. It surprised him and yourself.

What hurt him most was the fake professional smile on your face. You were known for your authenticity and the worst poker face on earth, but you made the effort to pretend in front of him, like he was nothing more than an inconvenient stranger in an elevator. His heart felt heavy on his chest, he never had to make an effort to make you genuine laugh or smile, and now he realized how much he took that for granted back then.

You seemed perfectly fine in front of him, like it hasn’t been more than a month since your last conversation. But he still likes to believe he knows you better than that. And maybe he wishes you also can not be fooled by his brave facade.

“How have you been?”, the words fell out of his mouth before he could even blink.

You cleared your throat as you sat on one of the rolling chairs. “Been good, Hongjoong-ssi is a bit late. Can you confirm that he is coming soon, please?”

You pretended not to notice how he fumbled to grab his phone to send the text and instead, busied yourself to set up your laptop on the empty wood table. But you could not ignore how he was still standing like a lost child by the table.

“Are you going to grab some water before the meeting?”

“No, no, I’m… I’ll go to get some coffee, do you want it?”

You said no, so he took your perfect opportunity to get out and he left as quickly as he could with hurting his pride too much.

With his back to the wall beside the coffee machine, he sent more than 16 messages pleading Hongjoong to let go of their stupid plan and come as fast as he could to the meeting. Yet, he was left unanswered. The last sent message almost taunted him, it said “Just apologize for your stupid mistake and make things right by her”.

He knew he had to after he acted like an asshole, it was clear the moment he got home to be with his own thoughts, but the more he reflected on their plan, more he realized maybe this is why you waked away from him.

So he gathered his courage once again, but now to apologize for two things and leave you alone for good.

Jeong Yunho (정윤호)

He watched as you giggled over some silly comment Wooyoung made a point to tell for the nth time. Yet, there you were, acting like it was the funniest thing in the world. Maybe he would react the same way if you stopped ignoring him for once that night.

“It’s getting hard to watch this”, Jongho mumbled under his breath as he stood up from the couch to refill two glass cups in their dorm’s kitchen, both for himself because only God knew how tiring was to hype up a miserable and stubborn friend.

Yunho did not notice the change beside him, but he did take note of your agitated state under his stare. He wished that could satisfy a selfish desire of satisfaction, but he felt nothing of that sort. Instead, his heart felt heavy with despair and unfulfilled need of your attention.

It felt silly to him at first, you two kissed after drinking a lot, so what? He was ready to let the past be the past and he thought you were on the same page. How stupid of him, he recognized it. Your relationship with him never went back to what it was, but it took him a while to notice he did not want that at all.

“C’mon, will you really let him suffer for the whole night?”, Wooyoung asked as he leaned into your side, ready to cuddle some more in part because he wanted to and in part because it was fun to see Yunho going insane over it.

You two been near the window for a while, enjoying the soft cold breeze of the night after a sunny day.

“You can’t deny it forever”, he said it in an annoying singing tone. “-ow, but you know I’m right”, he looked down to your hands dangerously close to his poor ribs, then grab them tight. “Ok, I get it, not talking about it”.

“Great, now let go”, you mumbled. “Let go, I’m not poking you”, you insisted trying to free yourself, only for him to intertwine your fingers.

“What if I don’t want to? Now, stand still”, he said as he leaned into your shoulder, taking the space like he was entitled to it.

Now, you were flabbergasted and defeated, because no matter what you do, you could not escape him on cuddle monster mode.

“Can we talk?”, you froze in place the moment you heard Yunho’s smooth deep voice right beside you. His gaze were focused on your face, yet you still made no move to acknowledge it.

“Give me my cuddle buddy back later, yeah?”

And just like that, the freaking traitor let go of you. You could see the mischievous light on Wooyoung’s eyes focused on your figure.

“There was no way to run away now”

That thought ran through yours, Yunho’s and Wooyoung’s mind. But you felt rage while Yunho felt hope.

“There’s nothing to talk about, wasn’t what you said?”.

You bumped into the traitor’s shoulder, then walked away.

Kang Yeosang (강여상)

Maybe you were some sort of a masochist or, maybe, you were plain stupid.

You’ve been friends with him for so freaking long, long enough that the few female friends that could still deal with your bullshit were exhausted of you and your ridiculous crush.

You clearly knew you were the latter, for some reason you thought you’d get over at some point or maybe he’d suddenly see the mysterious thing he was always looking for in you. None of those happened.

You stopped talking about him a little ago, maybe a month or two, and it was a good change to your friends’ ears. It was noticeable, but they gave you enough grace to not mention it. Little did they know, you were running from him like the plague as well.

Truth to be told, Yeosang did not notice it per se. He knew for sure something was going on after you declined his third attempt to make plans in less than two weeks. Why would he think you were lying to him at all? He thought you were sick and if you were felling that bad, of course he wouldn’t hesitate to agree with you, it would be better to meet up another day.

But then, two whole weeks with barely a peep from you? He missed your companionship in a way he did not know he could. You came into his life and little by little carved your space in his heart. But it was hard to put this feeling into words, he was not good with them in general, so you often had to read through the unfinished lines.

Now, he laid on his back watching the nothingness on the ceiling, yet his mind kept recalling the earlier conversation with San, if he could call his tongue tied moment a conversation.

“So what you gonna do?”

He could do nothing but stare wide eyed. Up until then, he did not think- no, he did not feel like he should do anything. You said through your actions many times already that you wished to be alone and as a friend, what else could he do but respect that?

But San was a hopeless romantic, and he wasn’t one to let things go so easily. Also, he wished the best for the two of you, in whatever way that may be even though Yeosang did not see those possibilities right in front of his nose.

“What should I do?”

“You have to figure it out on your own”

He did, he should.

He called you.

You didn’t pick up.

You were tired of being the one reading between the lines.

Tag list: @h3arteyes4mingi

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: 10.2K

paring: Sero x fReader

warning(s): dirty talking, fingering(f! receiving), premature ejaculation, messy sex, semi-public sex (if ya squint) - you know the works here, pretty standard smut, nothing too crazy.

authors note: Happy Belated Birthday to me! Not only did the amazing Onyx give me this idea MONTHS ago about the dynamic between Sero and I, but this won the poll for what I was going to work on next - and though I went with Bakugou's story first (cause it was fresher in my mind) I have finally finished this! AND OH BOY, how self-indulgent I was with this one - I am not known for my dialog but couldn't help but put lots in here! That being said, I did try and keep this as generic as I could, just may not be AS generic, ya know? Anyway, I hope you all love this glorified tape dispenser as much as I do~🔮

Sero had always loved to draw, even when he was a little kid. What started as scribbles covering the walls of his home turned into small doodles - those that filled his notebooks more than his writing and school work turned into piles and piles of sketchbooks that were filled with intricate drawings and were stacked high within the confines of his room. 

He remembered being little, using washable markers to doodle fun patterns and designs on his arms and the arms of his friends, remembering how most recess breaks were filled with doing a doodle request for several fellow classmates. To being older, and having those same classmates come up to him to see if they could utilize his skills to make projects look nicer; to make epic banners for school events, or to make posters pop in his signature way. Even while he was in college, next to a prestigious art school that only accepted a handful of creatives a year, he had people beg him to create designs for tattoos they were wanting to get; willing to pay lots of money so they could forever have a drawing of his on their skin.

And that sparked something inside him. A passion to turn a hobby into a career.

It took years and years of effort, of schooling, of practicing, of littering his skin with designs both good and bad - and subsequently spending more time fixing his faults - and then shadowing those more experienced, to be taken into their shops and under their wings, so he may draw on the bodies of those that were hoping to decorate their skin. Not all patrons were ideal; some were not hygienic, and others moved too much and then complained of sloppy work, demanding a refund. And not all shop owners were pleasant to work for; many accepted clients even when they shouldn't, often dismissing those beneath them out of pride and a superiority complex, and always taking the side of those patrons trying to scam him and his time. But there were a few people that made it all worth it in the end, a few colleagues turned friends that made ‘sticking it out��� much more bearable.

And without all the bumps and hurdles, Sero would not have become as confident in his abilities and his worth, and he would not have had the chance to meet so many amazing people and artists - some of which had the same goal and ideas in mind as he did; who would follow him wherever he went. Before he even knew it, Hanta Sero finally achieved his goal, of making his childhood dream and hobby into a reality. He finally owned his tattoo parlor. 

He found a little shop within the city, perfect enough for him and a few friends to call their own, to create their own brand, and to make their own living; to finally call the shots and have complete creative control. The building itself was a little run down - something to be expected with the small price tag attached - but it was the ideal size for all of them and in the perfect location. So no one cared that it needed a few months of intense TLC to get the building up to code, it was more than worth the effort. And before anyone knew it the inspector came to claim the building was up to standards, giving the business license and the all-clear to start accepting patrons; it only took a few days before people heard the news.

When word got around that Sero and his business partners had finally opened their shop, to start accepting clients and creating art on their skin that they would enjoy for a lifetime, so many jumped on the chance to get an appointment with them - Sero especially. Some were people he had known for years, eagerly awaiting another drawing of ink, and some were those that saw his work on the many social pages advertising the business that wanted to add another to their growing collections. Whatever the case was, once he turned on the neon ‘open’ sign on the day of opening, he and his friends were booked for months in advance.

And the cherry on top of all of this? Another wonderful addition to the streams of success he was facing, was the bookstore that sat just across the street from him. 

Not because he was into books, though he did read from time to time and enjoyed it when he did, but because of the owner that bookshop had. At first, he couldn’t be sure you were the owner, but day in and day out he watched you show up at opening and leave at closing, and unless you were an incredibly dedicated employee, it was an easy assumption to make. And Sero couldn’t deny that he thought you were pretty when he first caught sight of you through his window after closing on his first day; and he couldn’t deny that he would wait with anticipation when you closed your shop and would begin making your way home, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute face.

He wished he had the free time to go and speak to you, to see you up close and hear your voice (which he could just tell was adorable and sweet), but his clientele made it nearly impossible for him to get the chance. By the time the last client would leave, your shop would already be closed, and for some time, with you nowhere in sight. There were just simply not enough hours in the day for him to spare to meet you; as well he was terrified of canceling an appointment or rejecting a client so early on in all of this, afraid that one bad comment could ruin the shop and cause it to sink.

But Sero always made the best of any situation, that was part of his charm. He figured that if he didn’t have the time to go in and speak to you, to properly act on his little crush, he would let you know who he was and his existence through different means. 

Romantic gestures that could be seen as small and friendly - those that wouldn’t scare you off or have you become afraid. He started by sending you flowers; a small bouquet to help liven your shop if you wanted; which you did if the vase by your check-out counter was any indication. Next were chocolates, all bundled in pretty wrapping paper for you to carefully tear away. Then balloons, attached to a small gift basket with quality skincare items that could be found at his shop with his business card nustled amongst the jars and tins to ensure that you knew who sent them and that it was from the new neighbor across the street - not some strange admirer. 

He could tell that you liked them, given the delight that bloomed on your face whenever you received them - the bright smile as you brought those flowers to your nose to inhale their earthy scent, or when you eagerly started to open up some of the chocolates to enjoy, or when you carefully inspected each tin of cream; placing a small dollop on the back of your hand before putting them aside and back to your work. Sero especially knew you liked them when, a week later, you sent a gift basket back to him filled with artisan treats from the local farmers market; with a card welcoming the new store to the neighborhood.

After a while of staring hopelessly at you, to the point where all his friends were relentlessly teasing him, Sero finally made the decision to meet you properly; to make his way over to your shop to say hello. 

“And it has nothing to do with Kaminari!” he exclaimed at Kirishima and Mina, ensuring they could hear him over the snickering, as he grabbed his jacket to sling over his shoulders.

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy~” Mina sang as waved goodbye with a wink, clearly not buying it - especially as Kaminari just got back from your shop, book in hand that you recommended.

Sero shook his head, out of frustration at Mina’s words knowing that she called his bluff, as he slammed the door shut behind him and briskly walked across the street; breathing a sigh of relief, one that made the tension in his shoulder slack, when he stepped foot into your shop. It was everything he thought a bookstore should be; it was cozy and warm, the kind that would make anyone instantly at ease and would spend hours just curled up to read; which he assumed the patron he walk passed had been doing all day.

“Welcome! Can I help you?” A voice sang through the air, causing his head to turn to face a young woman - sadly not you - wearing an apron with the store's logo on it.

“Uh, not sure.” Sero smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment, and as a polite hello, before gazing around.

“First time here?” She inquired, moving behind a nearby counter to grab a stack of books.

“Yeah, pretty obvious huh?”

“A little, many have the look on their face when they first come in. It’s a little overwhelming at times, the place is a bit bigger than they assume.”

“You could say that again…” Sero could hear her airy giggle, watching in the corner of her eye as she began to sort through the titles.

“I can give you the run down if you like?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem at all, sir.” She smiled, pausing her task to free her hands for gesturing with her explanation  “This place is a lot like a library, people can come and go as they please, staying all day if they want to, without the pressure of needing to buy something. They can also borrow books for a small fee if they want, to ensure they don’t waste their money on a bad book, or they can obviously purchase them if they want.”

“A safe haven for those that love books, huh?” Sero chimed with a smile, taking another glance at all the sitting areas close to him - the plush pillows and fireplace inviting for those that would want to curl up.

“Pretty much, that was the idea” The employee agreed, already starting to sort again “Have a look and take all the time you need.”

Sero left her with a ‘thank you’ and another nod before venturing further into the store - taking stock of what sections of books there were and all the small cozy nooks for people to curl up in; taking his time to explore the entirety of the shop before leaving. “For research purposes, in case I wanna go back” he would mumble to himself, ready to defend his actions from his teasing friends upon his return. It was for those reasons, and those alone, not at all because he was trying to find you.

He finally did come across you, after what seemed like hours of searching, hidden away within the Historical Fiction sections tucked near the back walls, shelving some books that were stacked within your arms and reorganizing the ones that had been misplaced. To say Sero was smitten with you would have been an understatement before, but now? Seeing you so close? Smitten would not even begin to compare to how love-struck he was; one so strong it struck him dumb and left him unable to do anything but look at you.

“Sir?” 

Sero couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not to have your voice call out to him; luck that it broke him out of the stupor he was in, unlucky that he was unable to say or do anything more than gaze up at you with his mouth agape.

“Do… do you need help with anything?” Your sweet voice called out to him again, though clearly confused, and it made Sero look away to try and gain his thoughts once more.

“A-art book.” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning hot and red as his eyes did their best to look anywhere but you “Looking for one of those.”

“Well, which one?” You smiled, biting your lip to hide it as you gently placed the books you were holding down.

“Art, The Definitive Visual Guide” Sero blurted, voice sounding rushed as he named the first art book he bought when in college; watching as your brows furrowed as you took a moment to process what he said.

“By Dixon?” 

“Y-yes!” Sero exclaimed, eyes brightening and heart swelling with pride when you giggled over his excitement.

“Well, that would be in our art section, which would be…” You began to lean forward, carefully perching yourself on your ladder to see past the bookshelf currently in your way “Ah! Just over there!”

“O-over there?” Sero nodded, trying his best to not be affected by the smell of your shampoo as it lingered in the air as you moved to stand upright again “T-that’s perfect thank you!”

“Oh, no worries at all! You just let me know if you can’t find it okay?” You smiled, already picking your books back up.

Sero smiled back, giving a wave goodbye, before almost scurrying away; head hanging in defeat once he knew you were out of sight. A small part of him hoped he couldn’t find the book so he could talk to you again, but he knew that would be a mistake - especially as the spine of the book stared right back at him when he first began looking in the section you sent him to. Begrudgingly he accepted his fate, bringing the book up to the front cash and paying the borrowing fee to the employee he met earlier.

He came back to the parlor feeling like a complete idiot over messing up his first proper encounter with you, not doing at all what he planned to do - not being the effortlessly charming and fun guy he knew he was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep stopping by. 

After all, he had to return the book he borrowed.

~

Sero waited a week, in his mind if he went back the next day it would cause him more harm than good; would lead to you asking him way more questions than he would want about the book itself - and well, he already made a fool of himself once. Besides, the week-long buffer would allow him the chance to clear his head and come up with a game plan, so he could be properly prepared himself to see you again.

Because this time he wanted to start an actual conversation with you, one where he could learn about who you were, why you opened this store and everything in between that led to this moment in time. He wanted to know if his crush on you was justified, or if he should just cut his losses now before he was in too deep. But to be fair, based on what all his friends have said, he already was; even so, he couldn’t hold onto that book forever.

Regardless of what the outcome may be, he had to see you again; even if it meant rescheduling a client for a Sunday to make up the lost time, he just had to get to you and your store before closing.

And it was the perfect time to go he found. The store was almost completely empty, with seemingly no one else in the building but you as you began your usual routine for closing - so dutifully organizing stacks of papers and placing books that needed to be returned into a neat little pile; he almost felt bad for clearing his throat and breaking you out of your stride.

“H-hi!” You exclaimed, your body jolting in surprise when you regarded him, clearly not used to anyone being here so late “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner, I hope you weren’t waiting long!”

“No you’re fine, I just walked in,” Sero reassured, taking a step closer to your counter.

“Oh, are you here to return that art book? The one by Dixon?” You asked, back straightening as you smiled up at him. “I hope you liked it!”

“I did, it was a great read.” Sero mirrored your smile as he handed the book back over to you, enjoying the way your smaller hand brushed against his briefly “Though I was wondering if you could me find a similar book?”

“Sure, of course! Do you want a recommendation or are you looking for a specific title?”

“Uh, Creatives on Creativity is what I am looking for,” Sero said, breathing a mental sigh of relief over remembering the title - one he only heard of a day prior when searching for art books to ask you about.

“Creatives on Creativity…” You mumbled, turning to your computer to check if you had the title in stock - the sound of a keyboard clacking could be heard, filling the silent space briefly “By Steve Brouwers?”

“Yup! That’s the one” Sero confirmed with a nod, perfectly hiding the fact he was completely unsure as he watched you round the counter of the counter with a wave.

“Yeah, we should have a few in stock if you would follow me!”

You took him back to the Art Section, your stride confident as you weaved your way through bookcases and magazine towers, as you began locating the book in question; trying to remember where exactly you cataloged it - whether it was with the Art Help books or the Art Education ones.

Sero followed behind you, keeping his stride to a more casual pace to avoid possibly stepping on your heels, as he regarded your profile; enjoying the concentrated gazes, those mixed with slight perplexity, as you looked from shelf to shelf trying to help him out. Never before was he grateful, and possibly will never be again, about having trouble trying to find a book.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke, watching as you began to stand on a small stool to look at a higher shelf, figuring his time was running out.

“Uh, sure?” You muttered, voice soft as you continued on your hunt. “Go ahead”

“I’m sure you get asked this all the time, but I’m curious as to what a bookshop owner's favourite book is?” 

“Oh! Wow, that’s a great question!” You said, finally sparing him a brief glance with a smile “And one that’s kinda tough to answer. I love books from all genres for different reasons, so to compare one that’s horror to one that’s fantasy is a little difficult to do.”

“Well, what are you enjoying right now?” Sero asked, body leaning against the bookshelf so he could continue gazing up at you.

“Uhh, wow what am I reading right now?” You chuckled nervously as your mind began to race, feeling your cheeks heat up as you heard him do so as well “Let's see… probably The Historian, it’s a thriller mystery kinda deal - involves vampires and stuff - it’s proving to be quite fun” 

“Vampires?”

“Yeah… it’s historical fiction. It blurs the lines of what happened with whatever our imaginations can think of with the folklore of Vlad Țepeș and Dracula. Partly why I like it I guess…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sero hummed, watching as you scanned the titles before you, almost as if you were counting each one for inventory later “Take it that’s why you opened this place? Fell in love with reading books from far and wide?”

“Something like that” You agreed with a shrug of your shoulders “Wanted to be a librarian, always thought they had a great gig going on, and one thing led to another and, well, here we are.”

As you spoke your deft fingers delicately pulled the book you both were looking for from its place in the self, where it was hiding. Once you secured it in your grip, you slowly descended from your stool handing the book out to him once your feet were securely on the ground.

“And here you are.” You smiled, watching as he stood upright and uncrossed his arms.

“Thanks, for finding this for me” He gingerly took the book from you and tucked it under his arm, smiling wider at your cheery response back; following you obediently back up to the cash to once again pay the borrowing fee.

“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Sero began, fingers tapping nervously against the wood of the countertop “I have one more question to ask ya.”

“Sure, go ahead!” You giggled, amused by his polite curiosity as you began the transaction of payment.

“Would you want to go for some coffee sometime?”

His question made your fingers fumble on the touchpad, causing an error screen to pop up and for you to almost frantically try to fix, and you nervously cleared your throat; face going hot in surprise and embarrassment over your stumbled, and failed, answer back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or make you uncomfortable” Sero tried to soothe, hands raising up and away from the bubble around you to prove he meant no harm “Just think you’re cute and would like to treat you to some coffee, that’s all.”

“W-well, that’s um, very sweet of you, I just um…” You floundered, doing your best to finish quickly so you could hide away from him - to shield him from witnessing your embarrassment further “Just don’t think that would be a good idea?”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Y-you know, we’re strangers! We only met a few days ago and all….”

“Actually we’re neighbors, good ones at that if our gift exchange was anything to go by.” Sero clarified, watching as the realization of who he was crossed your face, his hands lowered to shove themselves in his jacket pockets before shrugging his shoulders “But hey, not gonna pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to that’s cool, I won’t pressure you!”

“I’m flattered, believe me, just….” You countered a sheepish look on your face as you passed the book back his way for him to take “Maybe some other time.”

“Sure thing, thank you again,” Sero said, giving you one last small smile before taking his book and leaving; wishing you a good night as he walked past the threshold of your store with a wave.

A few things were certain that night; the first being that you were worth having a crush on, and he would love the chance to treat you right. And second, you were not used to the straightforward approach, and if he didn’t want to screw anything up, he would have to be patient and go about things slowly.

But Sero Hanta was up for any challenge, and you were more than worth the wait.

~

After that night, Sero found himself stopping by your shop a few times a week; to return a new book he borrowed (and spent the night before diligently reading), and to further chat with you. The conversations were always led by a question or two before it sparked into something beautiful - he loved the way you would ramble, talking with your hands, as you explained something, how passionate you got over the things you loved, and how blessed he found himself when you tried to tell a story from when you were younger but couldn’t over your laughter of remembering it all.

And after each night, when the conversation had reached its end and the book he had paid for was tucked snugly under his arm, he would, without fail, ask you out on a date as he was leaving your shop; in love with the smile and the amused shake of your head when you bid him a simple goodnight, to - “try again some other time” - before shutting the door behind him and switching you sign to closed.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your shell, becoming more than eager to spend the last hour in his company; you didn’t realize it right away, but soon you found yourself noticing how excited you got when you would greet him. Or how you would try and keep the conversation going just a little bit longer as you walked to the cash, not wanting the night to end so soon. And how you would linger close to him before closing the door and saying good night. He was fun company, some of the best you ever had, and you couldn’t deny that you were starting to catch feelings for him too; to slowly become as enamored as he was.

Sero noticed this little factor as well, after a couple of months of visiting, when it was you who ask him a question; as you gingerly took hold of his arm to get a better look at the intricate tattoo that was perfectly placed on his forearm after handing him his recently purchased item.

“Did you do this yourself?” You whispered, almost in awe, as your fingertips barely brushed over the details of the design.

“Yeah,” Sero breathed out, quite taken aback by your bold action - though nowhere near complaining. “Took a while, but I think it turned out great.”

“Did you design it too?”

“Mm-hmm, designed all the tattoos on my body.” His eyes shifted their gaze from his arm to your face, “Wanted to work on my skin first before anyone else’s, just in case I wasn’t good at it.”

“I think it’s safe to say that you are, it’s beautiful work.”

“Do you have one?” 

“N-no…” You broke your gaze away, taking a step back from him - completely aware of how close and possibly inappropriate you were behaving.

“You want one?” Sero inquired with a clear of his throat; wanting nothing more than to move closer to you again, to gain that moment of intimacy once more, but knew he couldn’t

“Well yeah,” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “But I just never really know what to get, and I don’t wanna regret getting something cause it’ll be on my skin forever, you know?”

“I can design something for you if you want?” 

“You would?”

“Obviously, wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to!” He smiled, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a marker from your countertop “Just tell me some things that you like, and I’ll come up with something! See, I already know you like owls, and foxes, and of course historical fiction and fantasy books…”

“Sero, listen this is really sweet! I am honored you would do this for me and all but….” You began, cutting him off from his parade of knowledge of all things you loved - heart swelling almost uncomfortably with the attention - “But really, you don't have to do this for me.”

“You kidding, I would love to! If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done this for a living; hard to make a career out of something you hate!”

“Yeah, clearly, I obviously get it. But even so, you’re booked for months! You got plenty of other clients that need your attention and designs a lot more than I do.”

“Oh ho~ How do you know I’m booked for months?” Sero teased, enjoying how you looked away in fake annoyance as your shoulders raised in embarrassment “Even if I was, which you’re so cutely right that I am, I would reserve a spot for you regardless.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it can be after hours too, if you wanted.” Sero offered, with a shrug “Ya know if that would help put your nerves at ease; less people and all that stuff. And it could help make you feel better about accepting my offer~ I wouldn’t have to cancel on a client if you did.”

You sighed, shoulder slumping as you weighed his very tempting offer. You had been wanting a tattoo, ever since the new parlor opened across the street; and especially so every time you looked in Sero’s direction - the ink that was littered across his skin was beautiful - now here was the most perfect opportunity to finally get one and to get some more alone time with the artist himself; you knew you would regret it every day if you said no; despite your nerves telling you otherwise.

Squaring your shoulders you finally looked back at him, giving him a nod of approval over his proposition.

“Yes!” His fists thumped the counter as he proclaimed his excitement over your acceptance “I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll start working on the designs tonight and will have them done A-S-A-P!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at his childish behavior “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh! One more thing!” He passed the marker over to you, his palm slayed out as if acting as a canvas “I’ll need your number so I can both let you know when the design is done and so I can book you in for your appointment.”

“Okay, well then hand me the paper you were just scribbling on” You pointed and the scrap paper, brows furrowing when you watched him shake his head ‘no”. 

“No can do babe, it’s covered with stuff already. Just write it on my hand”

“Sero, this is a permanent marker, I’m not going to do that!”

“I think I’m more than comfortable with permanent ink on my skin,” Sero winked, moving his palm closer to you “It’ll come off in a few days, but hey, if you don’t want me to leave you could just say so~”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes again, hating that he was right and you were wasting time yet again to have him stay longer. You acquiesced, taking hold of his hand to keep it steady as you carefully wrote your number, being sure it was as clear as possible to avoid any confusion or mishaps that could be caused if you didn’t.

You watched as Sero left, head held high and chest filled with puffed-up pride as he sauntered back to the parlor; clearly happy with himself at winning you over and gaining your number.

~

It only took four days before you got the message from Sero; stating, with plenty of exclamation marks, about how your design was done and to stop by at any time to come and review the sketches - he was more than happy to squeeze you in at a time that worked best for you; whether that be between a client or after-hours.

And well, the thought of coming after hours was tempting, your confidence in quelling those nerves that swam in your stomach wasn’t strong enough yet; you were already pushing your limits when it came to the tattoo appointment. But the thought of you extending your lunch break by a few minutes seemed like a good idea.

The sign said ‘Closed for Lunch’ when you finally made your way across the street, and though Sero was insistent that you could come in regardless, you were still a little hesitant; standing by the door debating whether to knock or just walk in.

The decision was made for you when a woman with beautiful soft pink hair opened the door, startling you out of your thoughts as she asked if she could help you with anything.

“I-i’m just here to review some sketches…” You mumbled, hands playing nervously with your phone that still had the messages from Sero open “But I can come back if you’re closed!”

“It’s with Sero right?” She inquired, golden eyes squinting at you as they scanned you from head to toe; 

“Yeah..” You nodded your head, trying your best not to shift your body in reaction to her gaze.

“Oh my gosh! So it’s you! The librarian across the street!” She squealed, wasting no time in taking your arm and pulling you into the shop  “I’ve heard so much about you! Just been dying to meet you! I’m Mina, one of the artists here.”

“Bookstore owner….” You mumbled, casting a shy smile her way as you gave her your name “Heard about you as well, it’s really nice to meet you too”

“Right, bookstore owner, sorry about that!” Mina waved in apology, taking a step back to appraise you once more “and I gotta say, super jealous of Sero that he snagged you as his client; you’re a total babe! Like, that outfit is to die for! Where’s you get it?”

You could feel the blood rush to your face at her statement, her brazen compliment both flattered and embarrassed you as you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as you gazed down at what you were wearing.

“And oh my god, your nails!” She exclaimed again, taking hold of your hand to inspect closely inspect your delicately painted fingernails “These are so pretty! Where’d you get them done?”

“Uh, the spa a few blocks down the road” You answered with a breathless laugh at her enthusiasm “They always do a good job.”

“I can tell! I’ve always wanted to check them out, but was a little unsure, but now I’m definitely gonna go as soon as I can!” She squealed, squeezing your hand in delight “Oh, but you’re not here for me, which is a total bummer. Sero’s station is just back here, I’ll let him know you’re here!”

You gave her your thanks, appreciating her help and unknowingly helping you become more at ease, as she led you to Sero’s area; leaving you with a wave and a promise he’ll join you in a few minutes. 

His area was quite spacious, possibly the largest out of the others you passed, and the furthest from the front door. His chair and equipment sat near the center of it all, just slightly off to the left for others to pass by, and looked clean and organized as you peered around the room. He had a work table as well, pressed up against the wall, with a book of design and sketches.

If you were braver you would have opened it and gone through the slightly worn pages to see what they contained. But instead, you opted to scan the wall before you, taking in the fun, wild, and beautiful designs that were taped to them; staring in awe at just how beautiful they all were. Masterpieces in black and coloured ink, ones you were sure some lucky people got to wear proudly on their skin.

Or perhaps they were littered on his…

Sadly, you couldn’t allow your mind the chance to wander to such thoughts, to wonder just how much of his body was covered in ink and how low some tattoos would travel, before you hear his footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Admiring the wall?” He greeted, his smile as bright and friendly as always when he greeted you

“Yeah, the designs are beautiful” You glanced back at him with a smile “But I think you already knew that.”

“What can I say, just like hearing people sing my praises!” He joked with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before walking up to you “But we’re not here to talk about these, eh?”

You watched as he gently, smoothly, pulled open a large drawer at the table you were currently standing at, one you didn’t realize was there given the sleek design. Carefully he pulled out a tiny stack of papers, laying them out before you to inspect and admire, as his arm kept him leaning over the table, and more importantly, you.

You tried your best not to be affected by his voice, how his breath tickled your ear, as he spoke about the direction he went with the designs. Some larger, more detailed as they encompassed all the things you loved - like the barn owl sounded by flora and books before a full moon - and some that were smaller, simply beholden of a single item you loved, like a sitting fox amongst fall leaves; and where on your body each tattoo would be placed.

He left a pause when he was done speaking, allowing you the chance to mill over what he said; to further inspect his designs, and to take your time in picking out what you wanted most; unable to help himself from staring at you, eyes half-lidded, as you bit your lip in concentration.

“I like the fox,” you finally whispered, pulling the sketch closer to you to admire it further, already imagining where it will sit on your arm.

“Yeah?” was all Sero could breathe out as he leaned in closer to you

“Mm-hmm” You nodded, finally turning your head to face him; watching as his eyes gazed at your lips, causing you to do the same “...h-how much will it be?”

You could feel your breath catching in your throat as Sero ignored your question, instead taking the opportunity to lean his face closer to yours; feeling his breath gently fan against your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation; wanting nothing more than to feel what his kiss would be like.

“Sero, delivery is here!”

A gruff voice is what made you turn your head away; face scrunching in frustration over the unwanted interruption. You heard him sigh; feeling cold and a little disappointed when you felt his warmth pull away from you.

“Yeah… I’ll be right there Bakugou…” Sero spoke firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding frustrated and annoyed as he looked back at his friend “Just finishing up here.”

Sero took another deep breath, one that turned into a loud sigh, over the now-ruined moment as he pulled the fox design from the pile of paper; taking a step away from you with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.” He gave a pained smile, slowly backing his way towards the backrooms, to where Bakugou was waiting “Just pick a day with Mina and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

You simply nodded your head, giving him a small smile and wave as you watched him disappear; taking the time to finally release the air you were holding as you clenched your fist in anger over your ruined kiss; at how perfect Bakugou’s timing was in all of it.

But after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh; shaking your head in amusement as slowly made your way back to the front desk to book your appointment; knowing you had to get back to work soon and relieve your assistant.

~

It wasn’t long before the day of your tattoo arrived; the Saturday you booked it for came faster than anticipated, though the entire day felt like a year as you kept glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed, only to groan to yourself when it showed a mere 10-minutes.

Cataloging books did help with your dilemma, taking your mind off the many hours between you and seeing Sero again, as you continuously went up and down your little ladder to put the many returned books away. And before long, it was 9:00 pm, and you could flip your sign to ‘Closed’ and make your way across the street. 

You were surprised, given that the parlor was supposedly closed - or at the very least seeing their last clients at that point of the night - to see all the artists by the front desk chatting away; almost as if they were waiting for you to arrive.

“There you are!” Mina exclaimed, making her way from behind the desk over to where you stood, taking your jacket, and hanging it up for you “Thought you got cold feet on us!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that” You smiled, allowing her to complete her courteous gesture “And if I did cancel I would make sure you knew.”

“Are you excited!? First tattoos are always the most fun!”

“I am! Been looking forward to this all week!” 

“Oh, I���m sure you have~” Mina winked, “Now, let me introduce you to the other artist! Well, we’re all friends here but ya know.” She guided you over to where the three men stood, pointing first to a blonde with an unamused expression “You already met Bakugou last time you were here, I think you met Kaminari when he was at your store a few weeks back. And that giant redhead is Kirishima - he looks more scary than he is!”

 “It’s really nice to meet you!” Kirishima smiled, nudging Bakugou to acknowledge your presence - which he did in the form of a nod - before extending his hand out to you to shake “Heard a lot about you, been meaning to stop by your store for a while now. Apparently, you give good recommendations!”

“Oh, I do?” You asked, gingerly shaking his hand with a confused expression

“Of course you do, babe! Why else would Sero keep bugging you~” Kaminari jumped in, winking as he took your hand in his own and squeezed it “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods finally.”

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you guys!” Sero finally emerged, walking his way in between the group to disperse them; pulling Kaminari away from you to force him to let go of your hand “You should all be getting ready to leave, as you said you would!”

“Oh come on man! We just wanted to say hi to her!” Kaminari whined as he, and the rest of the group, were huddled towards to back of the place while you stood in place, fighting off a wave of giggles that were threatening to overcome you over the whole scene.

After a moment Sero returned, smoothing out his shirt as he tries his best to act as nonchalantly as possible; an act you could see right through given the blush that was dusting his cheeks but decided not to comment on.

“Sorry about all that, you ready to get started?” He asked, hand running through his hair nervously.

You hum in agreement, head nodding as you let him guide you back to his station; once there he motioned for you to get comfortable on the plush leather chair as he got his equipment ready.

 “Your friends are really nice,” You commented, tugging up the sleeve of your shirt for ease of access.

“Yeah, they are” Sero admitted, chuckling to himself “Pains in the ass half the time, but they mean well”

“Well, that’s how you know they love you” You chimed, sitting more upright as you watched him press an alcohol swab against your skin for a moment

“Guess you’re right.” He shrugged, holding up the stencil of your tattoo next to your arm “You want the tattoo here or a little lower?”

“No, there looks good! After all, you are the expert” You smiled, allowing him to press the paper against your skin; feeling him pressing down on it, before removing it to showcase the temporary art that was to forever be marked on your skin.

“Yeah that looks good,” He murmured, taking his tattoo machine in hand and dipping it in ink “Now, you let me know if this hurts, or becomes too unbearable okay?”

“Okay..” You bit your lip and nodded your head as you stared at the machine.

“Don’t worry, on arms you normally can’t feel anything” Sero reassured “ and I’ve got a steady hand which helps. All this just looks more scary than it is.”

“Like Kirishima”

“Yeah!” He laughed, shaking his head at your silly, but accurate, comment “Just like Kiri. Now, take a deep breath for me, kay?”

You nodded and did as you were told, taking a deep breath as his machine whirled to life; you watched with bated breath as it approached your skin, letting out a large sigh of relief when it finally touched you and no pain could be felt.

“See? Not so bad, yeah?” Sero smiled, slowly beginning to outline his design.

“Yeah…”

You didn’t converse much after that, not because you didn’t want to, but rather because you were blown away by Sero’s skills and concentration. You had never seen this side of him before. Normally he was goofy, animated, and fun, which you thought was endearing and cute; gave him his boyish charm. But now? As you watched his brows furrow and eyes look at you with such steely focus, you couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive. Choosing not to break the silence in fear of breaking his concentration, and thus this newfound allure, or embarrassing yourself.

Though he did make it difficult.

Throughout the entire session, every time he needed to shade something or thicken a line, he would always praise you after; claiming you were doing ‘such a good job’ for pushing through it; or for being called a ‘good girl’ when you took a needed deep breath at the right moment in time.

He said it so often that you can’t tell if he’s being reassuring or doing it to get a rise out of you; to tease you to see you get all hot and bothered.

Whatever the case was, it was affecting you way more than it should have; lighting a small fire deep within your core as you tried to rub your thighs together without him noticing to relieve some of the newfound pressure, as you suppressed all the small squeaks your wanted body wanted to let out every time another praise left his mouth.

It was agonizing torture in the best possible way; and when the session was finally done, when he was gently placing cellophane wrap over your fresh tattoo, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that it was all over.

“How much…” You gently cleared your throat, voice a little raspy over underuse “How much do I owe you again?”

“I already told you, babe,” Sero chuckled, carefully putting away his equipment “It’s on the house, my treat for you allowing me to borrow all those books.”

“You paid for those, Sero” You shot back, legs moving over the side of the chair as you leaned closer to him; showcasing your cleavage further from the lowcut hem of your shirt “I can’t just let you give me something like this for free - it’s not fair.”

“I told you, I like doing this.” He shrugged, ignoring you and your subsequent subtle attempts of seduction “More than happy to do this for you, think of it as a first-timer bonus!”

“There must be some way I can pay you back”

It was your tone that made Sero’s back straighten, clearing his throat he carefully placed what was in his hand down to turn and face you - breathing ceasing when he saw you sitting so pretty for him; the dark look in your eye making this cock twitch to life in his pants.

Sero couldn’t help it when his tongue poked out to lick his lips, unable to stop his eyes from trailing over your figure sitting before him; his own legs spreading further apart as he shifted a little closer to you; making you bite your lip. 

“How about finally going on that date with me?” He offered, hands twitching in his lap as he tried his best to restrain himself from touching you without permission.

“Payments happen immediately after a service…it wouldn’t be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job” You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his “I prefer to pay you back now, kay?”

“Kay…” Sero barely even had the chance to whisper the word out before your lips pressed firmly into his; hands fisting into his shirt to keep him from pulling away.

As if Sero even wanted to move away, his own hands reaching out to pull you closer to him; closing any inch of space between him and your soft body. His hand cupped your face to deepen the long-awaited kiss that he dreamed about for weeks, as he slotted between your legs, groping and pinching the meat of your thigh as he hiked your leg up to wrap around his waist as he placed more of his weight onto you; groaning into your open when your clothed cunt brushed against his hardening length.

Your sweet, breathless, mewls were addicting and it made his mind dizzy with lust as his lips descended down your jaw and onto your neck; licking and sucking on the sensitive skin you so graciously barred to him, biting down on your pulse to hear you cry out his name into the heated air as he continued to grind his hips against yours.

His kisses continued downwards to your chest, pulling your shirt down - not bothering or wanting to take a mere moment to part from you to properly rid yourself of the article of clothing - before his lips began to suckle at the plump flesh his found; moaning into the heated flesh as he relished the way your hand began to tangle and tug at his hair.

It was all so much, and yet not enough for you; the fire that slowly emerged in your core was raging for me, not being fully satisfied with his sweet kisses or the grind of his hips. You needed more, been craving for more for hours, and you were starting to get a little impatient as you guided the hand pinching and stroking your thigh up to your core.

“Sero, please, touch me more,” You sighed out, legs widening to give him better access as held his hand against the damp cotton of your panties

“Hanta,” He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit “call me that, and I’ll do what you want, you needly little thing.”

“Hanta, please? Want you…” You whined, arching your back in an attempt to get more friction; unable to keep the smile off your face when you heard him groaning; clearly loving the way his name sounded off your needy tongue.

“That’s a good girl, hips up” He gently coaxed your lower half off the chair to pull your panties down your leg; pocketing them for later, before slowly guiding your legs to spead even wider for him “Already so wet after a few kisses, hm?” 

You looked away, face buried into his neck, the heat burning your cheeks in embarrassment over his teasing, as you nodded your head - unable to muster the courage to say the truth - as your heart fluttered over his rumbling chuckle.

��Aw, are we shy now?” He teased even more, deft fingers spreading your lower lips apart to gently stroke at your hardened clit “You weren’t shy a second ago when you asked me to play with this pretty pussy, want me to stop?”

He felt you shake your head, a sweet little whine accompanying the motion, as you continued to cling to him; your warm breath, coming out in pants, next to his ear made him slow his pace to one that could barely be considered movement.

“I dunno, it sure seems like you do” 

“N-no!” You mumbled, gripping his shirt tighter; biting your lip to suppress another whine threatening to escape. “Please don’t stop..”

“Then let me see that pretty face, hm,” He asked, tone still mirthful as he watched you slowly come out of your hiding spot “There you are, look at you, huh? All cute and flustered, you like what I’m doing that much?”

You nodded your head, once more, voice squeaking out a ‘yes’ as you felt his fingers resume a faster pace - swirling your bundle of nerves before slipping into your wet heat; your own hand coming down to grasp his forearm over the sudden intensity.

“That feels good, baby? You like my fingers?” Sero hummed, lips grazing your ear as he leaned closer to you, gazing down to watch his fingers go in and out of your drenched hole.

“God yes, Hanta!” You couldn’t help but cry out, throwing your head back, as you felt his fingers curl; stroking that sweet spot within your gummy walls that you made you see stars.

“Yeah you do,” He groaned, feeling your slick drip down his wrist as he repeated the motion “you wanted this, didn’t you? That’s why you wore that cute little skirt, huh?”

Sero watched you nod your head, though the blissed-out look on your face made him question if you even heard what he said as your hips began to wiggle, legs shaking as you neared your release.

“Can feel you twitching around my fingers, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?” He asked, as his free hand pushed down your squirming hips “Hey, hey, don’t whine! I’ll give you what you want, promise”

His swollen lips brushed against your collarbone, a subtle gesture to prove he meant what he said - that he wasn’t going to tease you or stop you from going over the edge; his thumb twisting up to rub at your clit to help ease you over the edge you were climbing.

“That’s it, cum for me, god you sound so pretty, keep twitching for me.” He groaned, fingers working frantically as your cries grew higher in pitch.

Everything went white for a moment, an end to the mounting pleasure he was giving you, the world was forgotten for a brief moment as you succumbed to the pleasure; your back arched almost painfully as your legs clamped around his wrist; your entire form shaking from the intensity as eyes rolled back into your skull. The only thing that kept you in the realm was his deep voice cooing down at you as you felt your juices run down your thighs and stick to the surface of his leather chair.

“There she is…” He mumbled, lips kissing all over your face and chest to slowly help ease you back down “Slowly, that’s it, you did so good for me…”

“Hanta, s’too much!” You whined, bucking your hips away from his still-moving fingers; ones that were still slowly stroking your soaking cunt; hissing when he finally took them out.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, hands returning to stroke your thighs and hips as he gazed down at you “You certainly know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh? Never had a girl do that from my touch.”

You groaned one that turned into a giggle, as your hands came up to your face to hide from another wave of heated embarrassment “Well, to be fair, never had a guy touch me like that. Can’t blame a girl for enjoying it!”

“No I can’t, glad you liked it so much, baby” He murmured, pulling your hands from your face to kiss you once more, murmuring sweet nothing to you between each small kiss as his hands wandered again, up and down your body, smiling into the kiss when he felt your hands do the same.

“A-ah!” Sero moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking to your small hand that started to stroke at the large bulge in his pants; another one choking out, ending in a whimper, when you applied more pressure.

“Can I return the favour?” You asked, voice sounding so saccharine and confident that it made his head spin at the total 180 you just pulled with your demeanor.

“N-no,” He whimpered out, hand grasping at your wrist - just as yours did before - to stop you from continuing your sinful motions.

“Why not?” You whined, the pout you gave almost made him regret his choice, “Wanna make you feel good…”

“I know you do, but I won’t be able to last long if you keep that up” He reasoned, clasping your hands in his to bring them away from his twitching, aching cock.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“God, you’re too much…” He mumbled, head shaking in amusement as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to let you get the best of him as he watched you squirm.

Your pout was still prevalent on your swollen lips as you gazed up at him, calling out to him once more in that saccharine sweet voice “But I wanna make you cum.”

Sero couldn’t help but groan again, head turning away from you as he thought of anything else at that moment - things that made him cringe in his past - to try and stop himself from creaming in his pants like a teenager. With his voice strained, hoarse with effort, as he instructed you to lay back.

You do as you are told, heat in your belly igniting once more when you hear the clinking of his belt unbuckling; bending your legs up, to get betting frictions on your tingling nub, as you waited as patiently as you could for his return.

The chair groaned, squeaking slightly, at the added weight Sero provided, as he situated himself between your legs once more. You gasped, one that turned into a moan, when you felt his cock head tap at your entrance; his hard length sliding up and down your slit - teasing you as he coats himself in your juices.

“Hanta…!” You groan out, hips bucking to try and slip him inside; groaning once more in frustration when you feel his hands pin your hips down once more “Hurry up!”

“So impatient, naughty, naughty, naughty ” He clicks his tongue at you, chuckling at the frustrated glance you cast his way “Just give me a second, don’t wanna hurt you after all”

You huff, brows furrowing further as acquiesced; knowing thing it was for the better to have him take things slow - but the burning in your core was making it difficult for you to have a clear and level head; wanting nothing more to feel him fill you up.

After another agonizing minute, you slowly feel him sink into your heat; feeling his fat cock stretch you out so agonizingly slow that it makes you throw your head back and moan; mouth agape as you feel every inch bury itself deeper into your core.

“God, you’re tight!” Sero hisses, body taut as he holds himself above you as he continued pushing into you “Already milking me, baby, damn!”

You both groan when he finally bottoms out, breathing labored as they mingle together in-between tiny kisses as you both try to adjust; legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to you, as he begins his slowly thrusting into you.

His thrusts were almost teasing with how slowly he was moving, dragging his cock out languidly from your gummy walls before slowly returning back into your warmth - but they were precise, with each thrust hitting every sweet spot you had; making your eyes cross as you fell into the throws of pleasure over his slow lovemaking.

Over time though, Sero could not keep up the unhurried pace; what was once a tactic to ensure that he didn’t cum too early, to properly worship you and your perfect body, was now not enough - his body needed more. His lips attached to yours, kisses muffling the sweet moans that you were making as he slowly picks up his pace; thrusts turning sloppy and hurried, a fair cry from before, as Sero now becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure; frantically trying to chase his release.

The sloppy, wet, noises of your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the  sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it was becoming overwhelming - his thumb joining his frenzied hips as he rubbed at your clit; trying desperately to get you up and over that edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp his weeping cock as it did his fingers before he spilled into you.

But he failed, your wanton moans as they called out his name, and the sharp sting of your nails and they dug into his back pushed him too far; quickly pulling out with a choked wail he came; spilling his hot seed all over your thighs and stomach.

“I-I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to regain his breath - body, and cock, still twitching over the intensity of his organism; leaving you for a brief moment to get a clean rag from his equipment table to clean you up.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, voice still raspy and sore, as you watched him methodically clean you up.

“Well, you know, about getting you all messy. And…. yeah…” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, too embarrassed to look at you or saw the real reason he apologized.

It made you smile, though you did your best to contain the giggles that threaten to pass your lips as you watched him. Sitting up, you pushed the hand that was cleaning you away, pulling him back down into you for a kiss.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind getting messy. Part of the fun, right?” You giggled, nudging your nose with his trying to lighten the mood; effectively making a small smile tug at his lips as he returned your kiss.

“Besides…” you whispered, hands coming down to teasingly stroke his chest “My place isn’t too far from here. If you wanted, you could spend all night making it up to me”

“Aren’t you a naughty girl,” Sero smirked, hands grabbing the meat under your thighs as he picked you up from his chair; moving your legs to wrap around his hips to keep you upright and in place “But, I think my place is closer.”

[koryvaio]

:*¨༺ 「 ✦ 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✦ 」 ༻¨*:

WARNINGS: +18!, minors dni!, angst, smut, swear words, oral (f receiving), p in v, light chocking, overstimulation, exhibition?

summary: You and Buck have some unfinished business from a few years ago that keeps getting between you and doing your job.

pairing: Evan 'Buck' Buckley × Reader!Female

feedback is highly appreciated! (my first ever fanfic, so don't be too harsh😭)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It has been about 3 months since you've joined the 118. You were there as a replacement for the famous Eddie Diaz who left the firehouse due to some family problems— from what people told you, because you were not familiar with this man; you've never seen him, but he sure was everywhere around that station.

You got along with pretty much everyone. Bobby, Hen and Chimney were great guys, and you enjoyed your shifts with them. And then, there was Evan, or Buck as his colleagues call him now.

You and Buck met a few years ago in a club. You were drunk. He was drunk. One thing led to another, and you two had a pretty good time with one another. You messed around for a while with no strings attached, but when he asked you to make it official? You got cold feet and decided to call it off .....by ghosting him.

Back then, he wasn't a firefighter yet, and you were in your second year of uni, and obviously, you didn't keep in touch after your fallout. Seeing each other in the station on your first day was something to be remembered. The colour from your faces drained, and you were both as white as a sheet.

"Are you— are you guys ok?" Hen asked. "Perhaps you know each other?" She was quick to notice your reactions and puzzled things together. But you were not about to be defined as Evan's former side piece.

"No!" You reply swiftly, giving Evan no time to react. "He looked a bit familiar, but I don't think we've met. Y/N." You extend your hand to shake on your 'new' acquaintance.

Given how you've behaved, at first, you didn't really blame Buck for giving you the cold shoulder. What you did blame him for was his lack of professionalism on the job.

You had a pretty nasty call today, and he was behaving like a total brat. He wouldn't help you unless Bobby would demand it, and he wouldn't let you help him if Bobby wouldn't tell him to. Because of this, you almost lost 3 people.

When you got back to the station, Bobby was fuming, and he had every right. "Buck, Y/N! After you get changed, I want you in my office!"

"You guys had it coming." Chimney says as he slams the ambulance's door shut.

You sigh and go change, mentally preparing for what was to come. It wasn't your fault Buck was such a big baby, and he couldn't separate his private life from work.

"Shut the door and take a seat." Bobby tells you after you enter his office. Buck was already seated, and he seemed tense.

"I know better than to pair you two, but sometimes I can't spare a firefighter just because you guys don't get along." Bobby pauses. "This is not a highschool, this is a firestation. My firestation. Your job. When that alarm goes off, I expect every single one of you to act like one person. To save people, because that's what you're here to do!" he raised his voice a bit, visibly annoyed. "We almost lost 3 people minutes ago because you two can't even talk to eachother?! I will not have that. I don't care what you have going on, but when we're on a call, we are a team. We communicate and we help eachother and we let the others help us." He glared at you. Both you and Buck were ashamed and looked at the ground. "If this happens again, you have my word, I will either have you transferred or fired."

"Cap—" Buck tries to say something, but Bobby cuts him off. "Both of you! I don't care whose fault it is. And don't try to explain anything, Buck. I was there and I saw everything with my own eyes. You can go." He waves his hand at the door.

As soon as you close the door, Buck pulls you aside. "All this shit, everything is on you!"

You push him off of you and reply, somewhat surprised by his outburst. "Unlike you, I can separate my personal life from my work life. I was trying to help you, and I always tried to be cordial with you."

"Fuck off!" He spits out, angrily running a hand through his hair. "I can work just fine with anyone, but you. I don't think I am the problem!"

"News flash, so can I! Stop bitching and own it! You fucked up!" All the shame and guilt you felt just moments ago washed away, getting replaced by rage. The audacity this man had.

"I can't trust you! How can I let you help me if I can't trust you? You're not trustworthy, you proved that a long time ago!" There it was, you thought to yourself. His head was so far up his own ass.

"Oh my god, your fragile masculinity almost got three people killed, Evan! And you don't seem to care about it! Do you comprehend that? I'm genuinely asking."

"My fragile masculinity?" He scoffs.

"Yes! We weren't even a thing, and it was yeaaaars ago! Years!"

He steps closer. "Because you didn't even give us a chance. You took off like a...." He pauses, unsure of how to continue, so he stops.

"Like a what? Have you ever stopped and wondered if maybe I just didn't want you? Unlike what you may think about yourself, you're not all that!" You were lying through your teeth. But he couldn't have known that, right?

He rolls his eyes, clearly not believing you.

You step closer, looking for his gaze. "And even so, this does not make up for all the stupid shit you've done these past three months." You poke his chest with your finger. "You caused more problems than you've solved, and you almost lost everyone we saved! I get it that you have it against me, but think about those people who look up to us to save them."

He is taken aback at first but replies swiftly. "You are not a saviour." He lowers his head, towering over you. Your breath catches in your throat. "And stop trying to bullshit me about not wanting me. Your body betrays you. Everytime."

"I— my body, what? You're insane." You try to deny it.

He grins, closing the space between you, pinning you against the firetruck. His eyes were full of mischief. You knew that look— he was up to no good. You hated the situation you just found yourself in. You were so attracted to him, and you didn't want to let it show, but just like he said, your body was betraying you.

You both remain silent. Your bodies were talking to one another in their own language, known only by them. Your chest starts rising rapidly. He picked up on that, and reaching behind you, he opened the door of the firetruck. You understood what he meant, and you were down for it.

You both climb in the truck, with one thought on your minds: eachother. As soon as the door is closed, Buck launches an attack on your lips, kissing and biting your lower lip, making you moan a little too loud. He stops, placing a finger on your mouth. "You have to be silent. Not quiet, silent." He insists. "The truck may be locked, but they can still hear."

You nod, aware that they could hear you two. As of now, mostly you, but you couldn't really content those sounds at the moment, but you had to try. He takes his hand off and grips your left tigh, laying you down on the seats, reassaulting your lips. His hands roam freely on your body from your tigh to your neck, squeezing softly. His lips start tracing kisses from your mouth down to your neck, nibbling. You turn your head on the side to make more room for him while you undo the buttons of your shirt to give him access to the rest of your body. He takes the hint and starts lowering his kisses. His tigh was in between your legs, and you started griding, desperate for some friction.

He smiles, amused by your action. "You were saying—" he starts saying before you cut him off. "That mouth has better things to do right now than talk." He smirks, gripping your breasts without any kind of warning, pinching and squeezing through the thin material of your bra. You muffle your moans by putting a hand over your mouth. His smirk gets even wider if that is even possible. You would've loved to wipe that smirk off of his face, but you were enjoying the moment too much to take any action.

Your hand slips under his shirt, urging him to take it off, and he compiles. His biceps looked so good while he was stretching that a moan almost rolled off your lips. He gets back down to you and starts placing wet, sloppy kisses on your stomach. His hands quickly undo your belt. "Lift up, baby." And you do. He takes off your trousers and underwear, leaving you exposed in front of him.

"You're so ready for me. Beautiful. " He muffles to himself. He grabs onto your legs and puts them on his shoulders as he gets down to his knees in front of you. He sloppily kisses the inside of your tigh, biting, making sure to leave marks. His nose gets close to your core, gently brushing against it before his tongue steals the spotlight. Your back starts arching and a bit annoyed by his cat-licking, you push yourself onto his face. He starts laughing, but he takes his job seriously afterwards. Two of his fingers start thrusting in and out of you as his mouth continues its licking and sucking. Your hand pulls on his hair, which makes him grunt against your folds; your body reacts almost immediately, sucking his fingers in and squeezing around them. He knew you were close.

"For me, baby." He says while he intensifies his fingers' speed. You whine, telling him to keep going faster. He complies once again. His thumb starts flipping your bean, which sent you over the edge. Your chest was rising rapidly. He only got better with time.

His hands quickly undo his belt, and he lets his trousers fall down, exposing his raging boner. He wasn't done with you yet. He slips inside you without notice, making a loud slap sound. You fail to muffle the moan that came along with his action. "We had a deal." He grins. He wanted to hear you. You open your mouth to say something, but just then, he grips onto your hips and starts thrusting swiftly in and out of you.

Your mind fails to cling onto whatever you had to say to him, only being able to enjoy the moment. He notices and grins again, proud of himself. He nudges you to roll over. Once you do that, his arm loops around you, grabbing your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nips, pinning your back against his chest. He starts kissing your neck while the other hand finds its way down to your core again, caressing it.

You are so overstimulated that you can feel your second orgasm coming. Your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The way your walls start squeezing around him and how his name keeps rolling off of your lips almost send Buck over the edge.

"Together, baby. Jesus, you feel so good."He grunts. You can't help but whine because of how overstimulated you were. That was it for you. His grunts against your skin, along with everything else, made you reach the climax. Your shaky body did it for Buck. He was whispering in your ear with a low guttural voice, which alone could make you come again.

You both fall onto the seat of the truck, worn out. "I despise you so much." He says, catching his breath and gathering both of your clothes.

"You can show me later again how much you despise me." You say trying to stop your legs from shaking while grabbing your clothes from Buck.

He grins as he puts his shirt back on. His muscles stretch out so beautifully that it almost makes you want to jump him again.

You do the last button of your shirt as the alarm goes off.

The crew starts gathering, and Chimney is the first to enter the truck. "What were you two doing—. Ew! Nevermind!" He acts grossed out, and you feel your cheeks getting red knowing that Chim will tell Hen and Bobby first thing.

"We... had a talk about some unsolved business." Buck grins.

[class1akids]

People keep complaining about Shoto’s design looking ugly/like endeavor, but endeavor wasn’t ugly from his looks- it came from his personal faults and insecurity taking over his personality, it’s from never smiling or being happy because he was far too focused on his job that it limited him in making connections with others, it’s about the choices he made about his family, he’s stiff w/ his arms cross trying to look intimidating while Shoto smiles and is more relaxed and is taking care of himself and others without the burden of expectations on his shoulders.

I think we have two questions.

What is actually Shouto's adult design?

I feel that a lot of the complaints come from that first panel his adult design is introduced on. It's personally my least favorite panel of Shouto in 431, not because of the resemblance to Endeavor, but how uncanny he looks there.

It's like two different face mashed together, but not in a good way.

The other Shouto panels we see - whether left or right side - are much more natural-looking blending the different features from Enji and Rei and are totally in line with high school Shouto.

Another complaint is his body-type. In Shouto-fandom there was always a split between people who wanted adult Shouto to stay on the lithe, skinny, small side, like Rei - especially the ones who have a strong preference for a feminine, uke Shouto. Then there were always the ones who wanted him to get Endeavor's buff build.

I personally was always partial to a Shouto whose build is between Endeavor's and Rei's - so taller and more muscular than Rei/Touya, but shorter and more lithe than Endeavor.

Actually it's really hard to tell what body-type he landed on from this chapter other than it's definitely not the small, twink-Shouto many people are very strongly attached to. But the clothes he wears are so baggy that we don't really know much.

On this frame, you can definitely tell that he still has that tight midriff:

Here, we can see his hands being still long-fingers and quite delicate:

And in the action shot - well, I think he landed pretty much on that muscular, but wide, rectangular frame, but still with long thighs and whatnot, that was within expectations for him.

Finally, as for height, the only reference we have is him standing next to Momo (who was 173 cm and probably didn't grow much after). Shouto who was only 3 cm taller now looks about 1/2 head (about 10 cm) taller. So that would put Shouto's current height to about 185 cm - somewhere in the middle of his family (Endeavor's height is 195 - Touya's is the same as high school Shouto - 176 cm)

But reading both 430 and 431, I do feel that adult Shouto does not have yet a fully consistent design and we'll probably have to wait for the fanbook to get final answers.

2. Why does it matter if he looks like Endeavor?

Now preferences to idol-type, "pretty boys" vs more masculine men are definitely part of it - and there is nothing one can do about that. Fans who were obsessed with Shouto's idol-like looks feeling a whiplash from his more masculine adult design just boils down to aesthetic preference and can't be helped.

But I think there is a deeper reason some people feel a bit repulsed - and it's tied to how:

Shouto as a child got scarred and literally told by his mom that he's unbearably unsightly because he looks like his dad they all hated. So I think there is an angst element here - Shouto having to look into the mirror every day and see his father. Shouto visiting Rei and wondering if that's what his mom sees.

Shouto wanted to be nothing like Endeavor.

For this last point - I think Horikoshi was very deliberately moving Shouto in a direction where while in the beginning he fully looked like Rei's ice side (even covering his left), he mentally was similar to Endeavor with how his negative feelings consumed him and made him blind to others. As he matures and his values change, mentally he becomes very different from Endeavor, while physically, he starts to resemble him more and more - the way he grows, his hero suit, the gloves, the ultimate moves etc.

It's an artistic choice that you can love or hate, but Horikoshi is choosing to show that Shouto is not defined by his genetics by making him resemble Endeavor, but highlighting his different choices and demeanor.

And yeah, I don't think Enji is ugly per se - it's more the association with his crimes and behavior, the way he treats people that his looks are tied to those memories which creates a cognitive dissonance.

[jade-len]

so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.

okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!

i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)

so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"

now, do i:

A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?

B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?

C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar

i go with C, obviously.

me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.

friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.

me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel

friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it

friend: wait. does it have pictures?

me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better

friend: fuck yeah ok thanks

me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it

he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."

i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.

and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)

now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"

i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!

ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol

(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)

[moonspiritmars]

ope I just realized a big reason I was feeling really frustrated/angry on behalf of Evan with the discourse surrounding if K asked for consent or not to fix Evan's arm was because as an autistic person, Evan reads very autistic to me. So when I see people say K asked for consent and then go back and watch the scene and the words "can I try to fix that poorly healed bone," are not explicitly said, I think about all the times I have been harmed by people being vague (both on purpose and not) and not saying what they really mean. The amount of times people have said that I gave consent for something when I very much did not, because they interpreted what I said as consent to fit their narrative and actions is much too many, and for so long people wrote it off as me being naive, turned it around on me, made it my fault when I was the one harmed, the one with my boundaries violated. Oof.

I have had this happen with malicious people and I've had it with non-malicious people, and that's important because K is not malicious, I think they just care so much that sometimes they don't know where to put all that love and care. Also, I read K as neurodivergent/could see them being neurodivergent too, so this isn't me saying they were acting like a neurotypical person, I just think that even neurodivergent people sometimes get really wrapped up communicating in their own ways and forget that for some of us our understanding of language is deeply literal and reading between the lines/interpreting our words differently than what was explicitly stated can be really, really harmful for all parties involved. (sometimes I can hurt people too with my literalism! it's not all black and white obviously)

Like I said, I feel deeply for K because deep down at their core I truly believe their actions aren't about seeing people/things as objects needing to be fixed (despite it coming off that way sometimes), I just think they see themselves as inherently worthless if they are not always using all of their energy trying to help. I get that, and how it feels like you're drowning when you're not giving yourself away to people and causes because theres too much, always too much, love and care and concern and it makes you feel like you're going to implode. One of the hardest lessons I've learned is that sometimes my need to help, to fix, to care, to give, is a little bit more about having control than it is just wanting to help. When you grow up with chronic instability you claw and scratch at anything that might anchor you, and often it's the need to feel like you have worth, you mean something to other people, and you're willing to give yourself away as long as it means you have stable footing beneath you. All of that is to say that I do not blame K (or other people with similar circumstances to mine) for having an unhealthy relationship to control, it's just that in learning so many of my actions are also attached to deep insecurity I've been allowed to finally start healing the way I deserve to heal, and I just want that for others too.

Anyway I need to get my Sam post out before the next episode because I didn't finish it and then watched last nights episode and that was a huge mistake because now I have even more I wanna write about. She is such a complex and beautiful character and every single one of her actions speaks to who she is at her core and I just wanna give her a hug. Truly feels like the peak example of being alone doesn't always mean you're lonely, and being lonely does't always mean you're alone.

anyways pls don't get mad at me I'm sorry if anything came off wrong, all I was hoping to do was explain why I was feeling the way I was in case it helps others understand why they were feeling similar/different things during that scene. Like I said, I love K, and also this wasn't slander towards anyone who isn't autistic (also autism manifests in different ways), I just realized how my experience as an autistic person with adhd always really shapes how I view the media I consume and found it illuminating in this scenario especially.

(can you tell I've been chronically misunderstood my entire life by the way I'm prematurely apologizing also people being upset with me makes my tummy hurt because I take it really personally and would rather keep the peace than hold firm to my opinion at times)

((but I mean if I said something wrong I wanna know asddfgjrlgk wow y'all are learning a whole lot about how my brain works through a lil post about dnd oops))

[kissesforsatoru]

GUARDIAN ANGEL | wc: 5k~

GUARDIAN ANGEL!HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

₊˚⌗ hobie was never supposed to get involved with you, yet you and him became irrevocably tied to one another.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, soft yandere!hobie, near death experiences, marking (not in the way you guys probably think), jealousy, possessive behavior if you squint, implied power dynamics, pet names (love, sweetheart), horribly written british accent, utterly smitten hobie, softie!reader, reader is smaller than hobie, but angels are big compared to humans so that's why (he’s like 6’5+ and he wears platforms), EVERYTHING ABOUT ANGELS IN THIS FIC IS ENTIRELY MADE UP.

notes : please bear in mind that i don't have a full grasp on hobie yet, so he is probably definitely a bit ooc; i did try my best though!! i’m also planning to put this on ao3 at some point, so if you see it pop up there it’s not plagiarized, it’s just me ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing . . . fool for you by noita

it was never supposed to turn out like this. you and him were never supposed to happen.

you were only supposed to be 'just another human' to hobie like the rest of everyone else. he wasn't supposed to get involved or contact you directly; he wasn't supposed to get attached. you weren't supposed to get attached to him either. but you did, and he did too. so much that he’s entirely fucked. there’s no coming back from this for you or him.

it's not like this is any of hobie’s fault though, not when he’s known to not follow the rules and definitely not when you're the most precious human he has ever had the pleasure of being the guardian angel of.

he will admit that at first it was boring to watch you, but then it was fun. 

you aren’t anything incredibly special. just a broke college student with very few friends who likes to stay home more than you like to go out. but following you around and laughing his ass off about all of the stupid little things you did when you thought nobody was watching, like talk to yourself or narrate your actions, hobie really enjoyed that. he got a nice kick out of whenever someone would catch you doing one of those things and you’d get all flustered, shy, and painfully awkward.

you're undeniably adorable, and so refreshing. it's nice being your guardian angel in comparison to being one for some grubby old bastard whose morality borders far past what's considered to be good. hobie hates those people, pigs they are, all of them. you aren’t anything like them. you're boring, yeah, but hobie still likes you better than any other human. 

he sometimes pretended that you were talking to him whenever you spoke to yourself out loud, even though that couldn't have been possible. he would smirk and respond to you still with his dry humor and witty remarks because it was fun and it gave him a delightful little buzz. 

he didn't know how, or when, it happened, but hobie then found himself melting whenever he was around you, and more, he didn't mind it.

hobie used to hate angels that fell for humans because they’re such fragile beings; you have to be careful with them, all gentle and soft—it's why they need guardian angel, otherwise, they would die out faster than any other species earth has ever known. and angels, despite what people may think, aren't gentle lovers. they're aggressive and intense by nature due to their power and status as "higher beings." humans are too weak to handle an angel's love; it would be too overwhelming for them to handle, so falling for one is pointless, and hobie always thought that the angels who did were stupid. but he gets it now.

he shouldn’t though.

guardian angels have very specific and strict rules that have to be followed meticulously for both the safety of humans and angels. of course, hobie has broken more than a few of these rules before and he’s also gotten plenty of lectures from miguel about it too—enough for hobie to have actually considered flying under the lunatics' radar by doing his job correctly, but hobie... he doesn't like to be pushed around and forced into a role. especially one as heavy as guardian angel. that's just not him, so he does what he wants.

but still, hobie has never seriously messed up before. he's only had a few slip ups here and there that aren't too reprimandable in comparison to other things. he's tried to be somewhat serious about his job, follow all the important rules and all that. that is until he fell for you.

hobie has broken many of the important rules for you, and the first one was even falling for you in the first place. you made him break that one so easily, almost too easy. the next rule hobie broke for you was communicating with you directly, revealing himself and really getting involved with you. but to be fair, that also wasn't his fault. he didn't have the intention of letting you see him that night, let alone talking to you; it just happened.

your friend gwen told you about guardian angels and how it was possible for you to manifest using the help of yours, and you were awfully excited about finding out if that was true or not. you asked him for a sign that he was there, that he was willing to help you. one thing led to another and suddenly you were nestled deeply into the corner of the wall on your bed, wide eyed and shivering as you stared at him standing across the room.

perhaps it was your over eagerness mixed with his half-developed love for you at the time that made him stupidly decide to give you a sign that he was real in the form of literally showing you that he was real, he doesn't know. either way he did show you himself, and it had shocked you, really (an understatement). it took many hours of him consoling you to get you to understand that he's not some psycho who broke into your home somehow, but your actual, real guardian angel, in the flesh.

you were practically all over him after that, asking him all sorts of questions and touching him just to see if that was even possible for you to do—and to know what it would feel like too. not that he minded anyway. hobie decided then that it was much better having you actually talk to him than it was pretending that you were. and your touch was so soft that hobie had actually faltered a little bit when you reached for his cheek, pressing your palm against his skin and keeping it there for as long as he would let you. 

of all the places you could have touched him, of course you would choose an area that felt so unreasonably intimate, shaking him to his core. luckily you were far too enamored with the idea that he was a real angel for you to notice how much you’d set him off, how much you affect him.

after that he couldn't stay away from you. before he might have had a chance to snap himself out of his little love-sick puppy stupor, but having you aware of him, talking to him, touching him—it was all exhilarating; he loved it. and it would truly be unfair for anyone to expect him to pull away from you and never let anything like that happen again. that was never an option for hobie, so he just didn't. he won’t ever deny himself the pleasure of you.

the last, most recent rule that hobie broke for you, and the one that happens to be the most important of all, was interfering with your life. going against "fate," as miguel calls it. hobie always thought that it was bullshit since a guardian angels' job is to protect, but apparently, they aren’t allowed to prevent their assigned human's death, or cure their illnesses, or anything like that, even though they had the power to. he didn't understand it, but still, he never got attached enough to feel the need to go against that rule until he fell in love with you.

— ୨୧ —

he indulged himself little by little with you. first by allowing himself to enjoy being your guardian angel, then by falling in love with you and involving himself physically with you. and then he started allowing himself to steal your attention from anyone or anything other than him on days he felt oddly needy.

that term isn't something anyone who knew hobie would use to describe him, not even he would use it to describe himself, but with you he's always acted a little bit different. he came to accept it, told himself that it was the "y/n effect" and left it at that. being needy with you was something that hobie didn't really mind all that much; he embraced it, really. 

hobie can at least get away with a little bit of harmless interference this way, by stealing your attention for himself. he didn't mind receiving another long, boring lecture about how he can’t keep breaking rules if it meant he got to spend his day with you holed up in your little apartment, just the two of you. you and him and nobody else.

he'd show up out of nowhere when you least expected him to, always, and tug on your arm, pull you into his body and coax you into staying with him. he'd tell you that going to work would be bad for you, leave you sick and groggy—you hate being sick and all groggy, and only a fool would think hobie wouldn’t use that to his advantage.

"you have to listen to your guardian angel, love," he would tell you, tilting his head to look down at your small frame, admiring the slight angry pout on your lips. "i know what's best for you, so stay, yeah?"

you always do listen to him. you trust him completely, after all, because you're such a naive human that could never ever think that hobie, your guardian angel, has bad intentions with you. and he doesn't, no, he's just a little bit selfish. no harm in that, right? 'course not.

hobie can go a little overboard with his selfishness whenever you have a date to go on though. he shouldn't be because you're a human and he's an angel and he could never have you for real, right? so he should let you have your little love story with your puny little human boy. 

but hobie is going to be selfish regardless of the facts. regardless of some stupid rules.

he hates the idea of you being with some dumb human when you have him. he's perfect, he's an angel. he's strong enough to protect you, he has your best interest always in mind—it's his literal job—he can love you the way you deserve to be loved and more, he can care for you better than anyone else in the world because he knows you best and knows exactly what you need without ever having to tell him. no human can ever compare to him.

no human will ever be as cool as him either. hobie doesn't think any guy can top him when he's a punk angel—what could possibly be cooler than that? you said it yourself when the two of you first met. 

"wow, i didn't think angels could look so... cool. hobie, you're amazing; what the hell!? how did someone like me get you as a guardian angel?”

who are you to be going on dates when you compliment him so sweetly like that. you obviously have an interest in him and all hobie needs to do is push you in the right direction, so he doesn't mind telling you any excuse he can come up with to get you to drop a guy, stupid and unreasonable or not.

"that guy just wants you for your body."

"that guy has a love already that he's not telling you about."

“that guy isn’t a good person, he’ll be a bad influence for you.”

"sweetheart, he's too ugly for you." he told you one time as an excuse, and you did not like that one. 

"hobie! it's not about looks, it's about personality, and– and the heart!" you yelled at him, smacking his chest lightly as you pulled away from him and rushed your way down the hall towards your room.

"oh, s'at right? you like guys with ‘heart’?" he huffed a laugh as he followed behind you, leaning against your door frame when he got to your room. you turn around to glare at him, but he only smirks at your ruffled posture.

cute. cute.

"yes, actually! unlike you. i had no idea angels could be such assholes," you grit before turning back around to flop yourself face first into bed.

you always do that when you're upset with him, which isn't often at all, but it happens enough for hobie to pick up on the little habits you develop, and this is certainly one of them. you don't like looking at him 'cause he ‘does stuff to you,’ apparently. makes you unable to stay mad if you look at him too long, so you just choose not to. 

he pushes off the wall and saunters towards you, pressing a knee into your bed as he reaches over to tug at your arm, urging for you to roll over, to look at him. "c'mon, you don't mean that, love." he smiles when you do eventually turn to look at him, and this time with a much less angry expression on your pretty face.

"no, i don't," you sigh defeatedly, "but you are pretty mean sometimes, hobes."

that nickname. he loves that nickname. he loves even more that you were the one who gave it to him.

he hums thoughtfully before responding, "not to you though, and tha's what matters, don't you think?" you roll your eyes at him, shifting so that you're flat on your back now as you look up at him. you don't say anything more, only stare up at him with your pretty eyes, all glossy and shining under the dim light in your room. big, and so fucking innocent.

god. fuck.

hobie crawls over you slowly, keeping his eyes steadily on you as he does. he brings a hand to your cheek, stroking his thumb over your soft skin gently as he settles himself above you, and then he reaches his thumb to press into your chin so that he can get a good grip on your face. to keep you from gettin' all shy on him, ‘cause he knows you will when you realize what he’s about to do to you.

his eyes flit down to your lips when your tongue darts out to lick across your bottom one, all sensual like—or maybe hobie is getting too worked up. yeah, probably that, but whatever.

you sigh shakily when hobie starts to lean down closer. you're so pliant, laying there nice and still for him even though you're feeling nervous right now. because you trust him; there isn't anything hobie could do that would make you not trust him.

hobie has to keep himself from absolutely devouring you when his lips press to yours. he has to remind himself to be soft, to not be too aggressive so he doesn't scare you too much, or hurt you either; the weak little whine you let out as he kisses you does nothing to help his self-control stay intact though. thankfully, you grab tightly at his leather vest and tug for him to come closer, inviting him to press further into you and kiss you deeper.

hobie balances himself up on his knees as the hand that was holding him up comes to knead at your waist and tummy, feeling and rubbing there as gently as he can right now in his worked-up state—which is just barely enough for him not to leave imposing bruises on your skin from how much stronger he is compared to you. you don't seem to mind how tightly he holds onto you though, because you're still eagerly kissing him back, making all sorts of pleased little noises that hobie is all too happy to swallow up.

hobie only pulls away when you start squirming under him, signaling that you need to breathe. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tight against his body as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your delicious scent and placing little kisses on your neck as you pant softly.

"you don't need another man, you know that love?" he ask you, tells you, after a while of the two of you just laying together.

"yeah, i guess i don't," you reply to him, airy and quiet, right before you fall asleep tucked nicely into his arms. exactly where you belong.

— ୨୧ —

jessica stops hobie one night right as he's about to leave and go see you.

"if miguel finds out about this, you know he's going to be pissed, right?” she says, coming up behind him. “maybe you can get off on a wrist slap for breaking small, stupid rules, but falling in love with a human is something miguel absolutely will not allow, hobie."

hobie scoffs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, nor does he turn around to look at her. his emotions and feelings would be right on display for her if he did. she’d know well how much he fucked up, and that would be a hit to his pride. ‘specially since he always told her about his dislike for angels who fell for humans. 

"what’s ’at got anything to do with me, mm?" he decides to respond out of courtesy, turning his head to look at her through his peripheral, "i'm not in love with any human."

hobie knows that jessica knows that's a lie. it's obvious he's in love with you because of how different he's acting. doing his job right and all that, to some degree at least. breaking the 'don't get in physical contact your human' and 'don't fall in love with your human' rules aside, he's properly keeping up with his status reports about you, he's not off doing other things when he's supposed to be with you. he's being the good proper guardian angel he should be, and that is definitely out of character for hobie. it was really only a matter of time before someone found out. hobie is just lucky it was jessica who put two and two together first instead of miguel. then he’d have a real big problem on his hands. 

jessica sighs. "all the stuff miguel says about angels getting attached and falling for humans being dangerous is true, hobie, not just some control tactic to keep angels on a leash. it could cost your human their life, and you your job," she warns before leaving.

hobie always liked how not-pushy she is; it’s why he prefers her over miguel. but he thinks she's wrong, because he would never let you die. ever. he couldn’t care less about losing this shitty job though.

— ୨୧ —

the conversation with jess, as much as hobie hates to admit it, put a real damper on his mood. 

he's agitated when he gets to your apartment, showing up right in your room where he knows that you are because he can feel you there. and once he is there, he eases up a little bit. all of his racing thoughts seem to disappear when you come into his vision so he can see you now, not just feel you. seeing and feeling you is nice; it grounds him.

you jolt when you see him suddenly appear behind you in the reflection of the mirror that you're sitting in front of though. a gentle gasp falls from between your pretty lips as you whirl around quickly to look at him, eyes widening like a doe caught in headlights. you ease up quickly, realizing that it's just him; you sigh the words under your breath as you deflate a little bit, coming down from the brief bit of adrenaline you must have felt with him scaring you like that. 

goodness, aren't you just so delicate? it's a damn shame hobie's not supposed to go falling for a human, isn't it? a load of tosh that is.

he smirks, "sorry, love. didn't mean to scare you li' that,” he says easy, stepping forward until he's a few feet in front of you, looking down at you, looking up at him. your eyes are glimmering under the artificial light of the lamp settled next to the mirror. he thinks that even in such dodgy lighting, your eyes and soft expression are still utterly enrapturing. the soft, charming glow that the light provides to your features draws a pleased hum from hobie.

so pretty. you're so damn pretty.

"geez, hobes," you say, huffing as you look away from him and down at your lap, "you can't just keep randomly showing up like that; you may well give me a heart attack one of these days if you do." your laugh is music to his ears. airy, pitched, and sweet like the ripest peach. sweeter than the ripest peach.

an angel's voice is supposed to be the most beautiful sound, people say, but hobie disagrees. he would much rather listen to you talk or laugh all day long rather than ever have to hear another word uttered from his shitty coworkers' mouths.

"i would never let that happen to you," he says, tone shifting from playful to serious. hobie feels better that he’s with you now, but the bit jess said about you dying clings to him still. weasels it’s way into his thoughts and makes his stomach lurch. he’s buzzing, and not in the nice delightful kind of buzzing that you bring out of him, no. he just needs you right now. 

he needs to feel you—really feel you, beyond the way he feels your life force tied to him, fluctuating with your emotions and physical state. he needs to actually touch you, hold you.

hobie gets down onto his knees in front of you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up into his chest as he does. you whimper in surprise at the sudden proximity between you and him, your hands instinctively grabbing at his shoulder and jacket to steady yourself, even with how tightly he's holding you against him because his presence just overwhelms you too much. he always makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees. you can never seem to function, not without his help. but that's normal between humans and angels. you aren't made to handle him, you aren't supposed to, but that's okay; he can be as gentle as you need him to be. 

"look at me, love," hobie whispers, hooking a finger under your chin, nudging you to look at him. you squeak when your eyes meet his, no doubt incredibly flustered—he can feel that you are. can feel your pulse throbbing as heat rushes through your skin, radiating a dull warmth for him to sink into as his fingers dig deeper into your skin. he smirks, huffing out a faint laugh as he looks down at you, admiring you.

"there you go, sweetheart," he praises you softly, brushing the pad of his thumb across the slight curve of your bottom lip. your eyes flutter closed briefly as you take a shaky breath, and then you open them again, watching him intently, and god does it make hobie feel all sorts of things. 

"'m never gonna let anyone or anything hurt you," he murmurs, tightening his grip around your waist and holding you firmly against his chest with each word uttered, “you’re too precious for me to be careless with you like i am the rest of the shitty people in this shitty world. only you matter to me, yeah? just you and nobody fucking else.” he finishes quietly, dipping down to kiss lightly on your cheeks, one on each side, and then another on your forehead, drawn-out and lingering even after he pulls away.

you're practically melting in his hold by the time he does pull away, so pliable and warm, and you're looking at him with hooded eyes that you can barely keep open. delirious as you are, utterly suffocated by him, your grip on his shoulder and jacket is still relentless, unwavering, as if he would slip away from you if you loosened up the tiniest bit. you want him, need him, near to you as much as he wants you near, really. it's not just him with all of these intense, overwhelming and all-consuming emotions; it's you too.

“hobie,” you whine, nearly breathless, “can you– can we please kiss again? on the… the lips?” you plead, tugging at his jacket in desperation.

“anything for you, sweetheart,” hobie whispers, leaning forward until his mouth is hovering over yours, breathing you in slowly before he finally closes them together. he kisses you slow and tender, taking his time in savoring how delicious you taste. you sigh contentedly, tilting your head to the side and parting your lips for his tongue to delve inside of your mouth.

the hand he has wrapped around your waist slides across your body, feeling every dip and curve down to your thigh, where he grabs at gently, swinging it up to his hip as he pushes off the floor. your legs wrap around him instinctively to hold yourself up in his arms as he carries you across the room to your bed, his lips never once parting away from yours as he does. his other hand is holding your chin and jaw in place so that you can't pull away from him either, wanting as much contact with you at a time as he can get away with. he knows you wouldn't pull away from him so easily, but he likes controlling the kiss, likes it when you let him lead the way and guide your body with his. 

hobie carefully sits down on the bed and leans back against the wall, settling you into his lap comfortably before his hand starts roaming all over your body; along your hips and over your thighs, squeezing the fat in his hands before moving back up and dipping under your shirt to feel at your tummy. you moan and whimper into the kiss, shivering under his touch when his hand grazes along especially sensitive areas of your body. 

when hobie pulls away you're panting and dazed, humming mindlessly in pleasure as hobie starts pressing kisses down your jaw and neck. his teeth graze lightly along the sensitive flesh beneath your ear teasingly before his tongue dips out to lick delicately at the spot, making your body thrum and pulsate in delectation. he nips once at your skin before finally pulling away to look at you, to savor how much of a mess he was able to make you into with a heated kiss. and god do you look absolutely stunning like this. swollen lips parted as you breath out small puffs of air, hooded eyelids, and your clothes are entirely disheveled from where hobie had pushed them up and slid his hands under. 

fuck, you’re lovely.

"you look a mess, sweetheart," he rasps fondly, running his fingertips lightly along your hips and thighs.

"'ts your fault," you mumble, falling into his chest and nuzzling your nose into his neck, exhaling softly as you close your eyes and relax. hobie wraps both of his arms around you and rubs your back gently, soothing you until you hum contentedly.

"yeah, i suppose it is, isn't it?" he agrees quietly, not wanting to disrupt your somnolence. 

hobie lays with you in his arms for hours after that, listening intently to your steady heartbeat and soft, rhythmic breathing, every now and then feeling you shift with a cute disgruntled little huff whenever you've stayed in one position for too long. hobie loves your sleepy, content little sounds, loves the way your fingers curl around his vest; even in your sleep you're still clinging onto him, because you need him, and he loves it. 

hobie loves you.

— ୨୧ —

hobie knows he's not supposed to interfere with fate. it's against the rules, or whatever bullshit excuse everyone says it is. hobie didn't really care that much about it before because he's never cared about anyone enough to ever want to change their fate, but now he has you, and you need him more than ever to keep you safe, to keep you from dying. 

god, he doesn't know how it happened, but you were crying for him so desperately. curled on the floor, gasping for air and clutching onto life with weak claws, you were calling his name. it was like sensory overload, hearing every strewn-out letter of his name mixed in with your sobs, with the incessantly throbbing and pulsating of your life force weakening, slowly and agonizing. 

the second you had been put in danger, hobie felt it. all throughout his body and deep within his soul, he felt you dying. there was a shift in the air at that moment, a suffocating, excruciatingly tense one that everyone around hobie had noticed; jess and miguel, and his best friend pavitr. 

they all yelled and screamed at him that he couldn't go to you, lunging to stop him as he fumbled for the watch that would help him get to you the fastest, but the noise they made was dull and muffled in comparison to the way you cried for him. and god did it feel like he was getting stabbed through the heart mercilessly every time that you did. how dare they ever expect him to just listen to then when you were in so much fucking pain, all alone and the only one you wanted was him. 

he had to save you. fuck the rules and fuck his shitty job; you were far more important to him than any of that. it didn’t matter to hobie that in order to save you he had to enchain his soul with yours, it didn't matter to him that he would share every bit of pain with you now, even your last breath if you ever took it, because hobie would rather give up his entire being to you than ever have to live without you.

© 2023 by kolyasobsession━all rights reserved. modification, reproduction or plagiarism of my works and theme are strictly prohibited. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated.

[1d1195]

Dolcezza V

Read Dolcezza here.

Warnings: gonna have an angsty bit in here.

~6k words

“Y’don’t have t’feel embarrassed. Think s’pretty obvious I adore you. If y’want t’do this...” he moved his finger back and forth between them with his freehand. He squeezed her other one again. “S’all I can think ‘bout. Won’t take any convincing on my end. Whenever you’re ready, kitten, m’ready,” he promised and got out of the car.

They were still parked, taking a breather as she hadn’t really had a moment to think since she started on her journey home after her car fiasco. Niall had sent Harry minimal updates. The car was being fixed; he had the key to her apartment in his locker at work. They sat holding hands in the driveway while she tried to figure out the remainder of her day. They had gotten to her mom and dad’s place around noon. It was nearing almost four. As much as the car fiasco caused a hiccup in her plans, she was making good time on all the tasks she needed to get done. The ladder to the attic and the lights would cause another hiccup though. Especially since it would be dark while taking the lights down.

Harry was silent while she thought. He could see her mind turning over and over. He imagined if she was attached to the tachometer, it would be at least 2000 revolutions per minute. That, he was sure. But he let her take her time thinking, he didn’t want to interrupt her deep thoughts.

Eventually, she sighed. “Fixing that ladder is going to be a pain,” she mumbled.

Harry thought so too. It would be small and cramped and not to mention heavy. “Do... do y’have t’fix it?” He asked. She turned to him and looked at him as if that was the dumbest question someone could ask. He smirked. “Sorry, what was I thinking,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed and rubbed the palms of her hands against her temples. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he asked that. It was kind of obvious that she should just go home and leave her more than capable family to deal with it. “I know... I know I’m a little crazy and I do too much but—”

Harry shook his head and grabbed the hand closest to him. He threaded his fingers through hers, brought them to his lips. He brushed his mouth over her knuckles lingering on the middle one and peppering kisses down the length of it before placing a longer kiss on the back of her hand. She was watching him the whole time. Harry swore she gulped. They gazed at each other, and she couldn’t believe Harry liked her like that. Enough to kiss her in the middle of her crazy family’s house. Enough to run all kinds of errands with her for other family members. “You are anything but crazy, Principessa.”

“I can’t believe you still call me that,” she murmured. Her voice felt shaky. The kiss they shared in the kitchen was magical, otherworldly. But somehow, that kiss on her hand felt like it was connected right to her chest, a short wire that was pulling so hard and making her woozy.

He chuckled. “You should be treated like one,” he smiled, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was certain all her organs melted into puddles inside her body. It was a miracle she remembered to breathe. A miracle she was still alive after that. “What she said was wrong,” he repeated. “Anyone... anyone who knows you the way I do,” he shook his head. “Y’have made m’life so much better, kitten. Antonio’s, Niall’s, Leo’s, I bet y’made Eleanor and Louis’ lives better too,” he murmured. “Your sister is young. S’not an excuse because it was mean,” he nodded. “She’ll appreciate it when she’s older,” he nodded.

She swallowed. “I am bossy,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “You’re caring.”

“I think it’s a large part of why my ex broke up with me,” she admitted.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, Principessa. That man is an idiot t’let y’get away,” he shrugged. “His opinion s’irrelevant,” he promised. She smirked, her gaze dropping from his eyes, and she looked at their hands intertwined, resting on the console between them.

“I like helping people. But...it comes off bossy—”

“La mia dolcezza, stop saying you’re bossy,” he shook his head. “Please,” he whispered.

“What did you call me?” She whispered breathlessly. Her cheeks were that beautiful pink he adored. His heart skipped a beat. His face warmed as he realized what he said. She remembered Harry telling Antonio’s story of how he named the restaurant. How he called his future wife the very same thing that Harry just said.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, worried that it was somehow too far. It rolled off his tongue. The same way Principessa and kitten did. It was the only thing to call her that made sense. Especially in a moment when she didn’t see how wonderful she was to everyone—especially Harry. He hoped she would see how lovely she was sooner rather than later. “My sweetness,” he murmured softly.

“I want to kiss you so bad,” she whispered in response.

He chuckled with slight relief flooding him. He used his freehand to cup her face and pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Soon, Principessa, soon,” he promised.

*

“What’s James like?”

“A little calmer than the rest of them,” she said as they walked up the path to his apartment. “Maybe it’s because we’re closer in age than Emma and I, but...I don’t know. James is a lot more understanding of me, I think...overall, anyway...” Harry grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. He nodded as if he hadn’t just completely changed the rhythm of her heart. She bit her lip and stopped abruptly in her path. He smiled at her, taking a moment to look at her pretty being. His lips tingled the second he caught a glimpse of hers.

It was incredible what she could do in a day. Niall and Harry were headed to the restaurant to do early morning prep work—or at least Niall was. But with no plans for his day off, Harry was going to go with him. He was so glad he did. But if she managed to do all of the things on her mental to do list in a day? Harry was in awe. “S’matter, Principessa?” He asked, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb on her skin softly.

“James... has a roommate. His best friend Ethan,” she explained. “Ethan has had a crush on me since he was in high school,” her cheeks warmed under his touch.

“Obviously,” he smirked.

“Harry,” she tried to look away as the warmth only amplified against his hand.

“Is Ethan going to be here?” He asked.

She nodded. “He’s... harmless. But... I don’t know how to say this without sounding arrogant or...”

“Kitten, ‘course he likes his best friend’s hot older sister. M’not going t’be jealous or whatever you’re worried ‘bout,” he smirked. “If he tries t’kiss you though, I might have uncontrollable actions,” he admitted almost sheepishly. “Those lips are mine, now,” he rubbed his thumb on her lower lip, and she felt it all the way to her core. Then it was over. He left her breathless. Part of her thought she blacked out for a moment and all he did was touch her lip with his thumb. It took her a moment to realize Harry was now, waiting by the door for her to follow.

She cleared her throat, stepped to the door, and knocked. They only waited a minute before the door was out of the way.

“Hey Sis,” the boy smiled brightly as he answered. He was a spitting image of her dad. The resemblance was less strong between him and her than that of her sister and mother, but it was obvious they were siblings.

“Hi,” she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. James made eye contact with Harry as he held onto his sister.

“Eleanor didn’t want to hang out with us?” He asked.

The poor thing.

She sighed, seeming more defeated but also ignoring the feeling anyway. “Eleanor moved,” she shook her head. “This is Harry,” she explained.

“S’nice to meet you,” Harry stuck his hand out for the last of her family to shake.

“You took him to Mom and Dad’s?” He asked in surprise as he nodded at Harry while shaking his hand. She ignored him and stepped inside. He whistled in appreciation. “I don’t take the girl I’m seeing there for at least three months.”

“That would require you could keep a girl for three months,” she muttered as she started cleaning up the dishes as she went through his living room. James rolled his eyes as Harry smirked. The playfulness, compared to the argument with her sister, was a lot more Harry’s speed. He thought it was a lot nicer on her gentle heart, too.

“Did I hear the love of my life?” A second man appeared in the room, shirtless. He was a little shorter than Harry but still taller than average. Harry couldn’t help but compare how he looked to himself. He was probably attractive. If you liked that sort of thing. Despite what he said, Harry felt a pang of jealousy go through him. Ethan frowned. “James, you said she didn’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

The jealousy went away, and Harry smiled delightedly as she turned the most beautiful shade of pink to date of knowing her. “Jesus Christ,” she put a hand to her face. “Ethan, for the love of God,” she headed toward the kitchen with her armload of dishes. “Put a shirt on! It’s February!” She called.

“Why? Am I distracting you with my hot body?” he called back. The silence that ensued told him that she was ignoring him.

James smiled and shook his head. “This is Harry,” he gestured.

“You are my least favorite person right now,” Ethan said shaking his hand. Harry smirked.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“I’ve been in love with her for at least ten years.”

“Disgusting,” James remarked and headed for the kitchen where Harry could hear water running and the spritz of cleaning bottles.

“Can’t say I blame you,” Harry smirked and headed toward the kitchen as well. Ethan grabbed a shirt off the back of the couch and slipped it over his head.

She was once more a tornado of cleaning, doing dishes, and loading the dishwasher. Harry did what he could to help her. He grabbed dishes and threw trash in the bin. It didn’t bother him in the slightest. He wished he could say he would do the same for anyone. Plus, he didn’t want her to be stuck doing everything. Ethan was busy looking in the fridge but Harry noted there wasn’t much there except for a six pack of beer, a bottle of ketchup, and some eggs. “Thanks for the heads up on the attic ladder,” she turned to look at her brother. He bit his lip and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s on me,” he murmured. “Sorry, Sis, are you alright?”

She gestured to her body and nodded. “What do you think?”

“I think you look fantastic,” Ethan grinned eyeing her up and down.

Harry snorted at his forwardness but couldn’t blame him. Her cheeks flamed once more. “I wasn’t asking you,” she glared at him. “Don’t you have a date you need to torture?” She grumbled.

“I did, but I heard you were coming, and I couldn’t leave without saying I love you,” his smile was full of impish delight. Harry didn’t realize he was going to be that flirty. But the way she glared at him and blushed made him feel much less threatened.

Not that he felt threatened. That would be ridiculous. He was at least six years younger than she was. Maybe seven based on the way he flirted with her.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be my date,” he said knowingly. “But then you brought a guy with you. Where’s Eleanor?”

Sighing, unable to even say it, she rolled her eyes. Harry smirked sadly while he wiped down the counters she cleared. He found a box of trash bags below the sink right by her shin and he gave her calf a little squeeze in recognition. “Well, thank God for Harry then,” she muttered low enough that Harry wasn’t sure anyone but him heard.

James smirked as he helped clean. Harry appreciated that from her brother. His demeanor was a lot more her speed, and ergo Harry’s. It was quieter than her parents’ house. Relaxing almost. “How’s the hangover,” she asked eyeing her brother. He smirked. “I’m fine,” he promised.

“He threw up most of it when we got home,” Ethan assured her. She sighed and looked at James with a blank expression, but Harry could see the worry in her eyes.

“James,” she said softly.

“I’m fine, Sis, promise,” he nodded. But she looked disbelieving.

“You need a cleanse,” she muttered.

“No way,” Ethan said. “The holiday of our people is coming, we have to practice.”

“Neither of you are Irish!” She said with exasperation thick in her voice. It was obvious that this was not the first time she had had this conversation with them. “Alright, are you ready for your to do list?” She looked at Ethan. He saluted her standing at attention like this was serious. “I’m going to look at the state of your laundry room,” the two boys exchanged a look like she was their mom, and they knew immediately they were going to be in trouble. It was equal parts hysterical and adorable. “James and I are going grocery shopping. I’m assuming,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “The bathroom needs to be cleaned,” his answering smile assured her that she was correct. She wrinkled her nose. “No idea how you guys can bring women here with the state of your bathroom. Spotless,” she stuck her finger at him.

“God you’re hot when you’re bossy,” Ethan sighed dreamily.

Much more Harry’s speed, but still a bit jealous of how it sounded. But he couldn’t argue with him either. She was pretty hot when she gave orders.

*

James sat in the middle of the seat making eye contact with Harry in the rearview mirror every so often while he chatted with his sister. They quickly caught up on their lives. James was working a lot, his classes were good, and he was still having a lot of fun. “Good, that means you can’t drink as much,” she remarked.

He sighed with an eyeroll. “I don’t have a drinking problem.”

“The way you drink is not normal. It’s not moderate. It’s binging and you know that’s bad. I did a whole research project in undergrad for my psychology class. It’s horrible,” she reminded him.

“Yes, ma’am. You’ve mentioned it about a thousand times. I don’t feel like I have to drink. I just like to drink. I’m fine.”

She turned toward him in her seat, looked at him suspiciously. “I just worry.”

“I know, Sis. I know. You worry about everyone,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he promised. He glanced at Harry again. “How’d you meet?”

“I rent the apartment above the restaurant Harry works at,” she explained.

“Oh, cool. What kind of restaurant?”

“Italian,” Harry answered.

“Oh, so she eats all the garlic bread,” he nodded knowingly. Harry chuckled.

She glared at her brother. “Shut up,” she grumbled. She turned to Harry who was smiling happily as he drove toward the grocery store. “Traitor,” she mumbled.

He grabbed her hand from her lap and held it on the console. The movement wasn’t lost on James. He stared at their intertwined hands for a moment before looking at his sister. He may have been younger, but he would do anything to protect her. “So... how long have you been seeing each other?” He asked.

She blushed. “Um...” she swallowed. “We’re only...”

“S’pretty new,” Harry explained. “S’been a busy few months with the holidays.”

“You didn’t tell us,” James’ attention was on her.

“Um...” she swallowed. Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly. Whatever she said was fine. “I... just have a lot going on. I don’t want to...”

“Oh, I get it, you’re shutting down again.”

She gaped and Harry’s eyes flew to James’ in the rear view. He smirked. “Oh?” Harry asked squeezing her hand again.

“Oh yeah. She does this all the time. She doesn’t let herself be happy,” he squeezed her shoulder. “Gotta worry about everyone else’s happiness,” he winked at her. Her face was no longer pink but bright red. Harry bit his lip.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he mumbled with a wink in her direction.

“Pretty sure you should be nicer to me since I’m the one buying your groceries,” she grumbled.

He squeezed her shoulder again. “Annoying younger brother,” he reminded her, getting out of the car and heading for the store. She sighed, pressing her head against the back of the seat.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Harry stayed quiet for a moment. Turned in her direction and smiled weakly. She refused to look at him head on. But he spoke anyway. “Y’deserve t’be happy. I’d like t’make y’happy, Principessa. Worry ‘bout you the way y’worry ‘bout everyone else,” he reached out to gently turn her face toward him. His smile was gentle, his eyes just as gentle too. Her heart was beating unevenly. He was so handsome and so nice. It made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world, and she wasn’t sure she deserved someone so normal and wonderful. He didn’t even flinch about her family. “Y’don’t have t’feel embarrassed. Think s’pretty obvious I adore you. If y’want t’do this...” he moved his finger back and forth between them with his freehand. He squeezed her other one again. “S’all I can think ‘bout. Won’t take any convincing on my end. Whenever you’re ready, kitten, m’ready,” he promised and got out of the car.

It took her a full minute to recover while Harry stood by the passenger door waiting for her signal that she was going to get out. She wanted to throw herself at Harry and kiss him in the middle of a city grocery store parking lot. But she wasn’t kidding when she said it earlier. If she kissed him, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop.

*

Harry didn’t know he could fall harder for her. Especially for all the reasons he had fallen for her so much already. But seeing the cost of James’ groceries drop after coupons and her savings card, to one-hundred dollars less than it started, Harry was certain it might be one of the top five hottest things he adored about her. She was taking a picture of the receipt while she walked. “What are you doing?” James asked.

“I get points for receipts on this app. Then I can use the points to redeem gift cards.”

“You sound like mom.”

“Again, bought you your groceries.”

Harry smirked, putting the bags in the trunk of his car. James got the package of water bottles and soda from below the cart and put them in. She tried to grab stuff, but Harry shook his head fluttering his hand and ushering it away. “’Ve got it, Principessa.”

James smirked. “She did always want to be a princess when she was little. So, we’ve been told,” he nodded.

“Shut up.”

Harry smiled. “S’good t’know. Knew she had it in her,” he murmured.

“Er...Harry, would you mind terribly if I talked to her for a moment?” James asked.

She looked at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you just—”

“M’jus’ gonna make a call,” Harry nodded and sat in the driver’s seat.

She turned to her brother. She remembered the day in first grade when her mom told her she was going to be a big sister. She was so excited. A real-life doll to play with. James was her best friend—probably still was in a lot of ways. He was intelligent and kind. She thought between the two of them, James was a lot more like her than Emma was.

He looked at his shoes leaning against Harry’s car. “M’sorry,” he murmured.

She sighed, already knowing what he was applying. “How much?”

“I paid all my bills for the month... it’s just... we had a party... and then...” he looked up at her. “I met a girl,” he told her. His cheeks turning pink, and she found him the cutest little thing on the planet. “I really like her,” he explained. “So, I took her out to this fancy place and... I charged it but... I needed books for class. Then... I get paid next week, and I didn’t budget right. I’m sorry,” he rubbed his hand over his mouth. He sounded remorseful.

“What’s she like?” she asked.

He looked up at her and smiled. “You’re going to love her,” he promised. “I want you to meet her,” he nodded.

Her heart clenched in a way she didn’t know was possible. Rarely did she meet James’ girlfriends. She met them when he was in high school, but only because she was around a lot more. But since she moved out and since James was in college, she didn’t hear or see much of his dating life. Other than the components she did not want to hear about and made her want to throw up thinking about her little brother doing weird things to girls.

“Are you embarrassed by me because I’m insane?” She asked him point blank when she saw the text messages popping up on his phone once during the holiday weekend about a year ago. There was a red heart next to the name and she didn’t recognize it.

“No, Sis. No way. I... I don’t introduce them to you because you’re the most sane. I want to be sure when they meet you,” he told her. Her heart felt so much adoration for her little brother. It felt like a hug and he wasn’t even touching her.

“I’d like that,” she nodded, trying to keep the tears from filling her eyes.

“Next time,” he nodded. “I know you have to get back and frost Emma’s cupcakes. She’s been texting me the whole time that I’m hogging you.”

She sighed and pulled her checkbook out of her purse. She wrote a sum that no normal sister would write for their younger brother while leaning against the back of the car. But it was better than him asking her mom. “I’ll pay you back,” he promised as she put the check in his hands.

“By my estimates you owe me more than you’ll ever be able to make,” she winked at him. “It’s what older sisters are for,” she promised and gave him another hug.

“Someone should tell Emma that,” he grumbled into her hair. She smiled, her eyes watering against her will. All while holding back the emotion that she felt for feeling understood. Maybe this girl was good for James. She hoped he was. He seemed to have matured in a matter of months since she last saw him. It made her throat tighten and she did her best to control the tears from falling. “Didn’t tell us about Harry,” he said knowingly.

She shrugged and smiled wryly. “I’m still figuring it out.”

“I think you should let him take care of you,” he said knowingly. “I’ve never seen you smile like that,” he wrinkled his nose. “Even if he holds your hand,” he pretended to gag, and she smiled.

“I like him,” she admitted. “A lot.”

“I would think; I wasn’t kidding. I don’t bring girls home to Mom and Dad’s for a while.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think he likes me too,” she sounded shy, like it was hard to believe. It was for her, but still.

“I’ll say. Ethan’s been texting me nonstop saying it’s game over. No more flirting. You’re betrothed to someone else.”

“Ethan did not say betrothed,” she laughed.

“He did, he is distraught,” he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes heading for the passenger seat. Harry smiled as she sat down, winking at her with the phone pressed to his ear. “I’ll call you later, Gem. Jus’ wanted t’say thank you and I love you,” he tapped on the steering wheel. “Tell mum I said hi and I love her,” he added. “Alright, bye,” he gave her a once over assuring she was in one piece—emotionally. “All set?” He asked.

She nodded. “All set.”

*

The ladder was the hardest part. Her dad helped at least. Had all the right tools and all the right pieces of wood needed to fix it. Harry was insistent on keeping her out of the way. “I always help with this stuff, Harry,” she said standing by with a flashlight for more help. It was bright in the hall, but you can never have too much light for these projects.

“It’s true. I had James, but by then my little helper here was doing most of the grunt work,” her dad winked at her as a reminder. She rolled her eyes and shrugged.

But once the ladder was up and functional again, Harry still didn’t want her going up into the attic. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself, kitten,” he told her as he climbed up.

“Well, what about you—”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised with a wink.

After that, the lights took all of twenty minutes to come down. Harry was insistent he be on the ladder for that as well, pulling the lights off the gutter and handing the strand down to her. She wrapped them up expertly and stashed them in the bins and helped Harry put them back up in the new and improved attic. The way his arms flexed as he lifted the boxes up and over the ledge of the attic opening made his shirt lift a little, showing off a flash of his stomach. It couldn’t have been more than five seconds of time, but she was able to see toned lines of his abdomen and another tattoo on his hip. She swallowed as he descended the ladder trying to keep her thoughts PG, but Harry was looking at her with that beautiful smile of his and he kissed her cheek just like the very first time he did after babysitting Leo.

They finally ate the shepherd’s pie her mom made. It needed to be reheated by then. Harry was delighted with how good it tasted. “It’s Mom’s specialty,” she said. “Also, my favorite,” she smirked. “As you may have guessed, I have a thing for comfort food.”

He chuckled and nodded. “S’delicious, Principessa.”

Now they were frosting cupcakes. Almost silently. She heard the TV in the other room while the rest of her family watched the news and whatever followed it. “This is fun,” Harry smiled excitedly at her.

“Fun?” She snorted.

“Yeah. T’hang out with y’like this? S’nice,” he sounded almost sheepish.

Her heart fluttered because she couldn’t think of anything but how nice and wonderful Harry had been the whole day. “On the way home, you have to tell me all about your family, please.”

He smiled licking a bit of frosting off his thumb. He got up to wash his hands because he was onto vanilla frosting after finishing the cream cheese flavor. “Course, Principessa.”

*

They stayed for a whole hour in the living area with her family. Harry sat next to her, so close the length of her thigh pressed against his. He had his arm draped behind her on the back of the sofa and he chatted with her family so easily. It was cozy. Like he belonged there. It made her heart feel achy and she wished with everything in her that nothing would shatter this perfection she was feeling.

She couldn’t wait to tell Eleanor.

She visited a couple weekends ago. Had to get a few financial and personal documents from the town hall and whatnot to set up more permanent things in her residence. Her new job was nice—she was able to work from home most of the time; but did have to go to the office at least twice a week. But it was easy to shift the days if needed so she could do things like fly in and get her tasks done and still have time to get pasta at Dolcezza.

“Can you please put that poor man out of his misery and marry him already?” Eleanor rolled her eyes as they waited for their waitress to return with the check to sign. Their to go bag was on the table and Eleanor snapped a picture of her smiling cutely. Like they were on a date.

She rolled her eyes at the time. Not knowing that in less than a month she would be kissing Harry in her parents’ kitchen. “He’s not miserable.”

“No, but that’s because he’s so enamored, he would probably follow you around like a puppy on a leash if you asked him too.” She rolled her eyes but at that moment the waitress returned with their check and another bag filled with garlic bread from the cutest chef she had ever met.

“Well, we should get going. I just have to use the bathroom,” she said begrudgingly, getting up from the sofa. She could feel the heat from Harry dissipate almost immediately. It made her want to sit back down and never move from his side again. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you, for the cupcakes,” Emma said looking up at her older sister as she walked toward the bathroom. She smiled gently.

“Anytime, Em,” she promised.

“Let me help you get them on trays,” Harry said getting up from the sofa as well and Emma followed him almost implicitly toward the kitchen. Due to the size of the bake sale and how her cupcakes were town-famous, she had invested in several large trays that held cupcakes for ease of transportation. It took two cars and a flat backseat, but it was way more manageable than the first year when she made three or four trips to the school carrying cupcakes in kitschy cases.

After her short trip to the restroom, she nearly tripped over the smoke alarm in the middle of the hall. She rolled her eyes with a sigh. This had to be the hundredth task she did for her family today. But of course, she shouldn’t have expected anything less. She headed to the computer room to find a new battery. It was right near the kitchen, so she overheard Emma and Harry chatting.

“Do you have a sister?” Emma asked.

“Yeah. Gemma. She’s three years older than me.”

“So you know how annoying older sisters are,” she muttered.

Harry chuckled. “I mean...yeah. Gemma’s annoying sometimes... but she’s also m’best friend. Always looks out for me. Think if I were on the edge of a cliff, she’d throw herself off it t’save me,” he said knowingly.

Emma snorted. “She’d never do that for me,” she mumbled. Her heart broke as she eavesdropped on their conversation. Of course, she would. It hurt that Emma didn’t know that.

Harry made a cluck of disapproval. “I wouldn’t say that, Emma,” Harry said quickly. “Your sister talks ‘bout you a lot.”

“She does?” The shock in her voice pulled at her heartstrings. How could Emma not know that? Her baby sister was a spoiled princess. But she was in part to blame for that. She adored her the moment her mom arrived home with her. A new doll. One that she knew how to take care of thanks to James’ arrival three years prior. Emma was just as much of her baby as she was her parents’ baby.

“Yeah... told me all these cute funny stories ‘bout when y’were born. How y’used t’ask her t’do your makeup when y’were eight and she was getting ready for prom and stuff. Now you’re the one that does hers. She thinks you’re brilliant, beautiful, and wonderful.”

Emma was silent for a long time. She held her breath. “Oh...” she mumbled.

“Y’were pretty mean t’her today. M’not gonna lie t’you. I didn’t like it all.”

She was going to cry. Cry a lot. No one had ever stood up for her like that. Harry was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. “I’m sorry,” Emma whispered.

“S’not me who y’need t’apologize to,” Harry said softly.

“She’s...” Emma took a deep breath. “She’s so perfect,” Emma whispered. “It’s hard being her younger sister sometimes. All Mom and Dad say is that they miss her and wish she was here. I miss her. My teachers ask about her. They use her work as model examples, and everyone stares at me like I’m second best. I feel so inadequate...” her voice cracked, and she wanted to do nothing but run out there and hug the girl who would always be a little eight-year-old begging to wear her prom dress even though it trailed off her way too far.

“Oh Emma,” Harry had a frown in his voice. “Y’jus’ need t’tell her that. She adores you...and while I agree with you completely, m’sure she would say she’s not perfect.”

She smirked against her teary eyes and stifled a giggle that she wanted to release. “You’re way better than all her other boyfriends,” Emma said knowingly. “If you break her heart, I will kill you,” she promised. It was really hard to hide her laughter, but Harry found it quite funny, so his laugh hid any little breathy chuckle that managed to escape.

“Thank you, Emma,” he said.

Even though they weren’t really boyfriend and girlfriend, she agreed with her sister completely.

*

Harry told her all about his family. Growing up in England. Getting his degree and traveling until he found Antonio, and she knew the rest. She wanted to meet Gemma more than anything in the world. His mum too, but as a fellow older sister, she imagined she could compare notes. He told funny stories about him and Niall living together in a house across their small town.

He held her hand the whole way home, stroking his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. As awful as the day began, she never wanted it to end. Harry was amazing. In every sense of the word and every physical movement. Not once did he complain. Not once did he mind a single thing, she asked of him.

They made it back to the restaurant. It was only ten, a whole hour before she thought they’d be back. Harry immediately went to the kitchen to get her some garlic bread because it had been a long day and he wanted to make sure she had something good at the very end of the night. He also told her he would get her keys from Niall. She sat at the bar looking at the knots in the wood grain. Patiently, anxiously, she tapped her fingers against it, waiting for Harry to get back. He promised to walk her upstairs and part of her hoped he remembered what he said about kissing her for a lot longer than in the kitchen earlier in the day.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

Niall was ducked behind the bar and reappeared as she glanced up seeing the movement. He was helping himself to a glass of water from the little soda gun. “Hey Niall,” she said softly.

“Hey, Tesorino! How was your day?” He said cheerily. She smiled weakly. Niall assumed it was exhaustion. “Let me get your keys. Did everything—”

“From where you’re standing,” she interrupted. “Don’t be obvious, please. Is there a guy in the left corner? Blonde, longish hair, glasses? Is he staring at me?”

Niall felt his whole body freeze over. Inside and out. The blood in his veins stilled. His muscles locked. His joints stiffened. He looked up briefly, discreetly following her direction. She swallowed waiting nervously as Niall looked to the back corner.

He nodded.

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. “Okay,” she whispered. “I was afraid of that.”

--

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[hunterwritesstuff]

Tell us more about ck in ur au plz

*Cracks knuckles* you've awoken the autism. prepare for the beam. under cut because good lord do I ramble about this guy, and this is just what comes to my mind RIGHT NOW.

(divider by @strangergraphics)

❄️ So uh. he's a guy. a fella if you will.

❄️ Married. He loves his wife with all his heart, even if he can't show it in the usual way.

❄️ He's always been a kind and just ruler, and has been helping Blackrock recover from his father's influence ever since he gained power in the throne.

❄️ Before the Ice Dagger, he was very like. almost akin to Asgore with his people if that makes sense? Like? He knows his people by their names, stuff like that!

❄️ He babysat Griefer and was good friends with Mayor Thaniyel. Source? *Undertale run sfx*

❄️ He vaguely knows Shedletsky, mostly through him swinging by every so often for..."important business"...whatever that meant.

❄️ Russian. Trust me bro.

❄️ His actual name is Alexei Romanov!

❄️ He's very quiet. Sometimes people will forget he's even in the room. Not because they don't see him, no no, it's because he just sorta. sits in silence???

❄️ He was taken care of by Kitchen Wizard for most of his life growing up. Kitchen Wizard took this as "I will have this whole-ass baby-child in the kitchen with me and complain about how Ivan(his father) never gave me ANY form of assistant at ALL!! Can you believe that?!?" "baba!" "Ah yes, wise words, young prince." "Pebut buba..." "Much too young for that, I'm afraid."

❄️ His cape is rumored to just. be his baby blanket sized up? Like, it's rumored he got so attached to it that he just never wanted to get rid of it? That's HIS? Leave him ALONE?

❄️ Banished Knight is his son. His son's name is Boris, I think.

❄️ Keep babies away from him he'll get baby fever so bad he'll actually sob and it'll be very awkward for everybody

❄️ Father was Russian, mother was Norwegian. It just feels right, yk?

❄️ This is playing into a personal HC, but I feel the voice in his head took on the voice of his father, promising that he'd be proud of him if he grabbed the Ice Dagger.

❄️ "Come now, Alexei. Don't you want to make me proud for once?"

❄️ At first it didn't move him. He'd heard how dangerous that thing was. He'd heard the tales of adventurers going mad while searching for it.

❄️ ...but what if he was different? what if he could manage it? what if he could finally be the one to wield it and control it?

❄️ he would be a hero.

❄️ then whispers of his kingdom's fate started to plague his mind.

❄️ and that's what got to him. he loved his people more than anything, his kingdom more than anything. he saved it from ruin, he didn't want his work to be all for nothing.

❄️ so he assembled a search party.

❄️ then he found it. it was everything he heard it was and more.

❄️ a gloriously carved dagger from an ancient glacier, with a crystal in the hilt, and an aura of magic surrounding it. it felt magical.

❄️ as the voices grew louder, he drew closer, and closer, and closer, until...

❄️ a flash of blue light flooded the room as he grabbed the hilt. he was practically the only survivor. well...not exactly.

❄️ the rest of his search party survived, they were just...frozen. they could observe the outside world, but couldn't move. frozen in chunks of ice, merely...observing.

❄️ meanwhile, Cruel King was frostburned almost all across his body, leaving only a small chunk of his flesh on the left side untouched, and his left eye frozen into a mere ice cube.

❄️ the fallout was devastating. the normally cheery town was quickly swept up in a deadly snowstorm, trapping the people who were in their homes inside, and freezing those who were unfortunate enough to be outside during the storm.

❄️ Blackrock dubbed this event "The great freeze".

❄️ After this, Cruel King was even more reclusive and quiet, feeling as if his people's suffering was his fault.

❄️ Technically it was, but he just wanted to do what would protect his beloved people! H-He didn't have any malicious intent! H-He swears!!

❄️ Then his defensiveness over his kingdom and people starts to grow, and fester into something more. Paranoia. Fear of outsiders. Fear of his kingdom getting destroyed even more.

❄️ Come time of Chapter 1, he increases security around the castle, using his newfound abilities to bring the statues around Blackrock Castle to life.

❄️ Whenever the heroes step onto the castle grounds, Cruel King can immediately tell the air has changed. That one of them is more than meets the eye. He tells his guards to be careful, but still defend with their lives.

❄️ When the heroes arrive in the throne room, unlike in-game, Cruel King freezes over the door out and windows. It was no longer a throne room. it was now a tomb.

❄️ The fight is long and grueling(more akin to Hatred in difficulty), but eventually, Cruel King is defeated, the Ice Dagger knocked from his hands for the first time in ages, finally rewarded with one last thing. Clarity.

❄️ He mumbles some ramblings about how he "just wanted to save my people", and how "the voices have returned...I failed him once again...I feel cold..."

❄️ and finally drops dead, cold on the floor.

❄️ Then he awakens in Nirvana. How long has he been out? Was he dead? Alive? Undead? He didn't understand.

❄️ But then his attention shifts to a more important topic.

❄️ the voices are gone. he was free.

❄️ thinking back on his final moments, he was furious with the heroes. how dare they take him away from his people, from his kingdom? how dare they strip the life he'd worked so hard for away from him?

❄️ but here he feels oddly...at peace. like all weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

❄️ Then he starts wondering what his kingdom is doing. how Kitchen Wizard is doing.

❄️ Then he hears the spawnpoint activate. He turns to the direction the sound came from, finding the party of heroes approaching.

❄️ They spar for a while, the king's anger slowly petering out as he sees their strength at its peak. yes...they could protect his kingdom. keep it afloat.

❄️ Eventually, he yields. And he gives them a card as gratitude for the sparring matches. They could call on him whenever they needed to.

❄️ extra headcanons time, WOOO-

❄️ Woe, inflicts lactose intolerance upon yon king.

❄️ He paid Kitchen Wizard visits as often as he could, he likes him :)

❄️ He dad sneezes so loud it just sometimes. echoes. it scares some of the knights sometimes.

❄️ He's always had ice magic, the Ice Dagger just amplified it to the UNHEALTHY EXTREME.

❄️ He sticks his tongue out whenever he focuses.

❄️ Shorp teefies. he could bite hard enough to make anyone bleed if threatened.

❄️ Speaking of bite, uh. he can like. have an IRON GRIP??? WITH HIS JAW??? SOMEHOW???

❄️ his favorite meal is a bowl of fully loaded baked potato soup from Kitchen Wizard :3

❄️ he WILL mope in his bathtub if needed, DO NOT INTERRUPT HIM!!!

❄️ The Snorey Bears around the area? He helped raise those mofuckers. They're fat because of HIM.

❄️ Someone tried to set up mouse traps around the castle once when CK was younger. CK sobbed deeply. They just want CHEESE!!! Said person was fired immediately.

❄️ Somehow always smells of peppermint...

❄️ Chunker. Kitchen Wizard made sure he was well fed when he was younger and CK kept those eating habits up into adulthood.

❄️ His ass could NOT survive Turitopolis' climate.

❄️ He never really got any portraits painted of himself, as he wanted to try to not become overly vain.

❄️ He sucks at showing emotion. Like, dude is terrible at it.

❄️ Usually speaks in a monotone voice, but if he yells, you better get running.

[tyudearyous]

selfish waltz - j.yh

pairings : jeong yunho x reader

genre : angst (no comfort)

word count : 2k

author's note : PLEASE KEEP IN MIND ANYTHING YOU'RE READING HERE IS FICTION! the characters are portrayed in fictional manners, so nothing is real here! yunho is kind of shitty here so yeah :'D

🎵 take a bite - beabadoobee, malibu nights - lany, color blind - maddox, i don't wanna love you anymore - lany

masterlist

—

anon asks :

was falling in love ever a mistake? if it wasn’t then why is everyone ridiculing me for it? is it ever my fault for wanting to be loved? i crave love and i want it. i can’t keep on living like this. i feel like an outcast whenever people talk about love. i hate feeling like this.

posted on 21/07/2016 00.21 AM

—

anon replies :

hi anon! i just wanted to reassure you that it’s not wrong to fall in love! in fact, love is such a wonderful thing you know! i hope things get better for you. wishing the best for you anon!

posted on 21/07/2016 03.23 AM

—

friday, 22/07/2016

click not again. click ah, why isn’t it working at all. click oh! it’s good now. your old camera has been through a lot but it is a memoir you can never get rid of. you photographed almost your entire life with it and you definitely have a little bit of an unhealthy attachment to it. “boo!” you were startled and almost dropped your camera. “jeong yunho.” you glared at the person. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d be that scared” yunho quickly took a seat next to you and gave you a sheepish smile. he was trying to make you not get angry at him and well, his puppy eyes are hard to resist. “that’s still working?” he points to your old digital camera. “i take good care of it, so of course it would” you said proudly. if there was one thing you could be proud of is that you are extremely good at taking care of your things. heck, your phone from 2009 still works up to this day.

yunho gives you a mocking smile in response, in which you shoved him jokingly and that made him laugh. you both then fell into a rather comfortable silence where you continued your previous shenanigans again.

“still taking photos?” he asked curiously. you only nodded before adjusting your camera to zoom in to the daffodil in front of you. “you like daffodils?” he moved closer to you. “they’re pretty” you replied, still focused to your camera. “mmm, it’s my birth flower” he states. “so?” you moved your gaze to stare at him. “mmm nothing. just wanted to say that” he moves back with a grin on his face. he is completely unpredictable, but guess that was what you loved about him.

—

anon asks :

is it wrong to love your best friend? i’m scared, i feel like i want him too much and it might be bad for our friendship

posted on 22/07/2016 08.34 PM

—

anon replies :

hi anon! like i said before, falling in love isn’t bad! but when it comes to friendships, it might be hard. i’m rooting for you though! you can’t control love anyway ^^

posted on 23/07/2016 07.29 AM

—

saturday, 23/07/2016

it was a sunny saturday afternoon, you’re currently in yunho’s house doing group work with several other classmates. this group work has been something you’ve been dreading to do. after all, you only got there because of yunho. you bet he pitied you, that’s why he took you in but none of that matters. yunho was nice enough to let you in but that didn’t mean others accepted you.

for some reason, none of yunho’s friends really liked you. some were neutral, some hated you. you weren’t a clingy friend to yunho, nor were you forcing him to be only friends with you. well, you can’t control them. yunho was your polar opposite anyway. perhaps they just thought that you were annoying and not talkable with.

“um, is this part supposed to be empty?” you asked to your group mates. one part of the assignment is left empty even though it’s not supposed to be empty. “seriously? you have to ask us that?” one of them replied, in a snappy tone. “i wanted to make sure” the room fell into an uncomfortable silence as your voice quieted down. you quickly went on your way to work on that part while staying silent. they purposely left out the hardest part for you to do. it’s not hard, just tricky and they just don’t want to deal with it.

“hey, want me to help? i know it’s tricky” yunho apporached you while you were working on the problem. of course, you accepted the help. who would want to do a tricky calculus problem alone? having two brains working on it is much better than just one. “sorry about that, we had chosen the parts we were going to do before but i forgot to inform you. sorry” it seems that he feels bad but it’s alright. you’re here not really welcomed either. “it’s okay” you reassured him despite feeling uncomfortable. the thing with yunho is that he’s a big people pleaser. he won’t stand up for anyone if he knew it wasn’t beneficial for him. it’s an annoying trait of his but you weren’t anyone to call him out for it. you knew where you stand and you had to stay there because you weren’t anything special for him. just a friend, who hoped for more.

—

sunday, 24/07/2016

the problem was trickier than you originally thought. even with yunho, you couldn’t finish the problem yesterday. so, you went back to his place to finish it off. it had been three hours since you started working on it again and the problem was only 70% done. mathematics is a pain in the ass but it’s fun if it’s solved. however, you both were only humans so just like how any humans would, you took a break after the three hours work time.

“why did mr. park think this was a good idea!?” yunho groaned as he threw his pencil. “you know him” you laughed as you opened your phone to scroll around qforums. “you use that too?” he asked. “what?” you instinctively moved your phone away from him. “i just wanted to knoww! i also use it too you know!” he whined. you only smiled before saying yes. it was a harmless question anyway. he goes on to tell the stories of the weirdest asks he ever read in the forum. from the story of a laughing dog to a hidden underground tunnel in someone’s house, he told it all. you realized having someone keeping you sane through mathematics is very important. thankfully, yunho was there.

—

monday, 25/07/2016

“give it back!” you desperately reach up. one of your classmate, jisung decided it’d be a great idea to take your phone and open qforums. “i said give it back!” “class! listen up! is it wrong to love your best friend? y/n, is this about yunho!?” he asked loudly, unti; the entire class’ attention was to you. you froze, you couldn’t answer anything. everyone’s eyes were focused at you. staring straight with a mocking smile. your head started spinning from the pressure. “shit! this is so funny. oh my, you’re really in love with this friend huh? so, is it really yunho?” jisung kneeled slightly to ask you. “earth to y/n? i’m asking you a question here!” he shook your body. cold sweats started to break out of your body before you took your phone from him and quickly ran away to the bathroom. you could hear laughters from people as you ran. you could feel their gaze.

as you reached the bathroom, you quickly went to one of the stalls and sat down to recollect yourself. it was going to be widespread for sure and of course, yunho would know. what would you answer if he asked? would you lie and ignore the fact that you had been in love with him since forever? it was a shitty day and you just want it to end.

your prediction was correct. it became widespread, even videos were shared everywhere. everyone was making fun of you. you’re sure yunho knows it too. knowing yunho, he would ask you about it. he would want answers. were you ready to give answers though?

—

yunho : can we talk, after school?

yunho : i’m not mad, i just want to talk

you : ok

—

“is it true?” yunho immediately asked you. “i didn’t want anyone to find out” your voice was small, just like how you felt right now. “what the heck y/n?” his response caught you off guard. “what?” you were confused now. “why?” he asks, with a tone unpleasant to your ears. “what? i can’t control my feelings, yunho. what do you mean why with that tone? is it a crime?” “did you seriously fall for me just because i was kind to you?” your heart fell into million pieces. you couldn’t say anything after he asked you that. the man in front of you wasn’t the yunho you knew. you don’t know this person at all. the yunho you knew would reject you kindly but this man? he’s not yunho.

“is it that easy for you to fall for people? i was kind to you because you had no one and we were friends back then so i felt inclined to but, falling in love? i’m sorry y/n, i just feel that you’re being too, how do i word it, selfish?” yunho continued. “why the fuck is it selfish for me to love?” your tears started to fall at this point. you were fine with rejections, after all he was above your league. but this? nothing could prepare you for this. “love isn’t selfish but shouldn’t you at least realize your situation? i never thought that person who kept asking about love in the forums was you” he replied. “were you the one who answered?” you asked him. “shit.” he wasn’t meant to say that. he knew he would look like a shittier person to you if you knew that fact. however, cat’s out of the closet and you couldn’t even explain how shitty you feel right now.

“what the hell jeong yunho?” you felt so incredibly betrayed by him. it was as if thousands of thorns pricked your heart open to the point it bled to a sea, your heart hurted, so bad. “shit, i didn’t mean to say that but just, fuck i look like a shitty person now” “you are.” “what?” he was visibly taken aback by your response. “you’re a shitty person and i regret falling for such a shit person like you now. i never expected anything from you and yet you treat me like this? i genuinely loved you, i knew you wouldn’t like it if we were more than friends, that’s why i kept it to myself. i always kept it in, yunho. i never expected anything from you. i didn’t want more of your kindness, i was always fine with everything.” you tried to continue but your heart just hurts so much, you couldn’t handle it. you broke down and cried, because your heart just hurts.

he only stood there as he saw you cry. doing nothing but stare. you couldn’t care enough to look at him but cry. “i’m sorry” he muttered as he left. he left you alone, in pain, crying. this day was truly a shitty day.

—

some day in 2006,

a kid moved into your neighborhood on a random sunday morning. their family approached yours and made you befriend their kid. naturally, your parents would bring you to play with him in the nearby park. you quickly ran to the swing, which the kid followed.

“what’s your name?” you asked the kid. “yunho! jeong yunho! you?” he excitedly says. “i’m y/n! han y/n! nice to meet you yunho!” you shook your hands with his.

“i hope we can be friends forever!” the kid states.

but 10 years later, that same exact kid would break your heart to the point it’s irreparable now. so what the fuck does that forever supposed to mean?

end. or is it the end?

[faerise-fae]

Not really a marauders character but: Tom Riddle #20!

YAPPING WARNING ABOUT ASPD TOM RIDDLE AGAIN

Ok so sorry for taking so long to do this, but my brain crashes every time i try to think about something that isn't obvious or just fucking boring. BUT I REALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH YALL SO GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS

The hill I'll die on is that he is an ASPD baddie, tho I bet he would prefer thinking about himself as sociopath, as edgy teens do. It doesn't mean I think he is totally emotionless, i think he is very emotional. Just not empathetic? This man is purely driven by his emotions from the start. Be it fear of death, resentment, and hatred towards Dumbledore or just general anger directed at the stupidity of the wizarding nation. In ASPD it's just that the intensity of expression of those emotions is different. He can look totally put together and like an oasis of peace, but inside planning whatever insanities only he can think of.

Because the thing is, anger issues are not rare in ASPD. ASPD is associated with impulsiveness and violent or risky behaviours, which can result in lashing out in anger. It's just that when you don't have many emotions to begin with, controlling the stronger ones can be difficult.

People have very different headcanons about him in that matter, i see a lot of totally stoic, calculating tom riddle who doesn't have absolutely any emotions and stuff like this, but I really can't see it. My man is a dramatic, cruel, entitled and IMPULSIVE edgelord BUT:

HOT TAKE #1:

Canon Tom Riddle headcanonned himself as fanon Tom Riddle.

He might have thought of himself as emotionless, but he just didn't acknowledge it. Growing up in an unstable environment, he hadn't learned how to stabilize himself.

Because ASPD is partialy caused by genetics, yes. But a very big factor in developing it is childhood and home life. We can agree his was very unstable, he has probably witnessed violence and definitely experienced emotional neglect. ASPD is all about lack of security. Its defence mechanism. That means:

My man just doesn't know how to cope, LMAO. When it was too much even for him to stuff into the back of his brain, he just lashed out. Acting on impulses was his relief from it. Adrenaline from it also helped to mute his feelings.

But at the same time, he just didn't think of himself as unreasonable. "It was never his fault, he was just provoked!" He also didn't feel guilty about causing harm to others because he didn't have any empathetic feelings towards anyone. How can you feel bad about idk, cursing someone if you don't see them as an individual with feelings of their own. Because how could he think about their feelings when he didn't have much of his own to compare and to even comprehend what they feel beside some very shallow understanding. AND BY THAT I DONT MEAN HE DIDNT KNOW HE WAS HURTING PEOPLE AROUND HIM HE WASNT A POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW. HE KNEW, HE JUST DIDNT GET IT SO HE DIDNT CARE. But he obviously knew. So no empathy but more like an educated guess. Masking king. He learnt how emotions worked for other people and used it whenever he saw fit. Pure manipulation.

Because again neglectful caregiving = problems with attachment to people and forming relationships. In the end it's all about him in that aspect. His feelings are always about himself and making himself feel comfortable and stable. He was fond of his friends till they were useful and till he felt good with having them around. He took pride* in gaining their respect and loyalty. He was using them to stroke his ego basically. And was using them in general. For stuff and things.

*HOT TAKE #2:

And here i have my latest hot take: his similarity with Harry in that matter. Harry is a gryffindor with some slytherin traits. And imo Tom, with him being the most slytherin to ever slytherin, his crazy pride and impulsivity is so gryffindor.

So there's that beside how we can all agree he was a liar and manipulator.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.