#hand scribbles💫

[dedeinthewild]

ollie bearman x reader, tripping over thin air

~ from hand scribbles series (tell me an oddly specific situation/state of mind and I'll rec/write a fic about it)

"Hey, be careful! Wouldn’t want you tripping over more air!"

situation : "trying to be nonchalant and mysterious in front of ur crush and tripping on air and falling face down"

Her.

Three letters—the signature of both a blessing and a curse for Ollie Bearman.

Maybe it wasn’t that dramatic from his point of view. After all, the Brit was one of the sweetest and most easygoing guys on the grid, and his relationship with that girl felt like the most natural thing in the world. But without even realizing it, when a distant switch flicked in his head—one he never even thought existed—she became his biggest problem.

They had been through everything together. Ever since they met, it was clear they completed each other perfectly, in their shared similarities and their many differences, bringing a lighthearted atmosphere wherever they went. Whether it was grabbing a questionable kebab from the little spot near the school where he had studied after training with Thomas, or heading off for a weekend getaway together—sometimes with Kimi, or the friends they had in common.

And the best part? There was never any need to impress each other. No last-minute outfit upgrades, no spraying on the most expensive cologne, no planning vacations in luxury resorts or dining in Michelin-starred restaurants. Because all they needed was their bond—that invisible thread that tied them together, woven through sweet smiles and effortless laughter.

But that switch had flipped in Ollie’s head, and from the moment it did, he couldn’t ignore the voice reminding him that he had fallen for her. That he wanted only her by his side.

And that was a massive problem.

Because when you’ve known the simplicity of friendship—the unspoken words, the inside jokes that make you laugh in a crowd of a million—you also know that most people who fall for their best friend, especially one they spend so much time with, feel like it’s the end of the world.

In a way, it was the end of the world for the Brit. He stopped texting her as freely as before, second-guessing every word at least a thousand times. His laughter turned nervous when she was around. He found himself trying to impress her at every chance—only to earn the sharp, teasing remarks that were so characteristic of her.

He felt the pressure.

Whether it was about friendship, life goals, or simply the championship he was competing in.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he needed to prove himself—not just to the world, but to her. And if that meant playing it extra cool, then so be it.

"You’ve been awfully quiet," she said, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket, a scarf wrapped around her neck, and a small bag of M&Ms tucked in one of them as they walked along the row of team tents.

"Me?" Ollie furrowed his brows, rolling the family pass Hitech GP had given him between his long fingers as they waited for his little brother’s British F4 race at Brands Hatch.

"You have. Which is weird, because you never shut up," she teased.

"Maybe I’m just focused."

She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his deep brown eyes. He was much taller than her.

The wind had tousled her hair, which still looked impossibly soft despite being tied back in a small bun. She tucked her chin deeper into her scarf, shielding herself from the crisp autumn air that made spectators in England’s racing season prone to sore throats.

"Or maybe you’re just stressing."

"About what would I be?" he asked, wetting his lips, his thick accent making her nose scrunch up in that way she always did when he spoke.

"I don’t know, maybe the championship," she said with a shrug. "Hadjar, for example."

"Isack? What has he got to do with me?"

"I’m just assuming, it’s cool," she relented, shrugging again as the wind picked up. Mechanics rushed to secure the team tents as the cars rolled in from qualifying, and the first drivers jumped out for a quick debrief before the afternoon race.

"So what’s your pre-race ritual these days? Aside from stressing," she asked with a playful grin, her eyes flickering toward the rising stars of the sport—the same eyes that had led him straight into the most dangerous trap of all.

"Oh, you know, just the usual. A little stretching, mental prep… getting in the zone."

She frowned slightly.

Was he really just making small talk? Missing her playful cue entirely? And what was that tone?

"Mental prep." "Getting in the zone."

"Mmm. And the ‘zone’ is working for you?" she teased, confused by his behavior.

"Clearly," the driver answered with a fake, cocky grin just as, in the distance, Thomas and Leo Robinson approached, helmets in hand, coming to say hi.

And then it happened.

The great curse that bore the name of that girl—with her sweet smile, her youthful eyes, and the carefree spirit of someone who lived life as if nothing was too big to weigh her down.

Ollie’s foot caught on absolutely nothing.

No cracks. No cables. No loose pavement. Nothing. Just pure, unfiltered betrayal.

And so, his six-foot-something frame lurched forward, as if shoved by an invisible outfielder standing on the sidelines, watching his demise with a chest full of satisfaction.

Anyone else, sensing an imminent fall, would have thrown out their hands, relying on reflexes developed after too many childhood tumbles.

But not him.

He thought he had it.

He didn’t.

"Oh my…"

It was happening both too fast and unbearably slow, and she had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter. The thud of his body hitting the asphalt was so loud that a few mechanics turned around to check if whoever had fallen was still in one piece.

"…Is ‘tripping over air’ part of the ritual?" she asked as Thomas walked up, giving her a playful nudge on the shoulder.

"Yes. It’s for balance," the younger Bearman quipped, watching his brother—who had fully surrendered to fate—lie face-down on the ground, one cheek pressed against the cold pavement. A lifeless sprawl, as if he were the tragic victim of an unsolvable crime.

He knew.

He had just eaten pavement in front of the entire paddock. And, worst of all, in front of her.

"Mmm. Seems very effective," she grinned, offering him a hand.

Ollie refused.

As if the last shred of dignity he had left begged him to get up on his own, brushing the dust from his knees with great determination.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, a smug grin plastered on her young face, and he knew—he knew—that she would never let him live this down.

"Maybe that’s why you lost traction in the last race. Should’ve tripped in the garage before quali—" Thomas smirked, setting his helmet down on a cart in their team’s tent while Leo sipped from his water bottle.

"You are literally the worst person I know."

As the boys kept talking, she walked a few steps behind them, hiding her laughter in the warmth of her scarf while a painfully embarrassed Ollie scrambled to come up with an excuse for what had just happened.

As if she didn’t already know.

As if she couldn’t see that it was just a dumb, desperate attempt to prove he was on the level of those fighting for a championship, the ones who passed their driving tests on the first try, the ones who could always be there for the people they loved.

He had nothing less than them.

And she knew it.

Just like he did.

Just like they both knew that, sooner or later, for one reason or another, that switch would become something more than a curse.

And it would finally become what they both truly wanted—something that didn’t need to impress or prove itself.

"Fuck."

Thomas and Ollie turned, just in time to see her stumble, struggling to keep her balance with wide eyes—realizing, too late, that the invisible outfielder wasn’t done messing with them.

"Hey, be careful! Wouldn’t want you tripping over more air!" Ollie taunted.

She flipped him off in response.

this is such a me thing... (requested!)

[godricgryffinsnore]

Dellaaaa hi my loveeeeee! Hope you are well and hope you've been having a great day so far!! Just wanna drop an idea here, up to you to write it out - but I've been thinking a lot about professional Quidditch player James and reader is interviewing him. He's all friendly and flirty with his answers and I just - swoooon at the thought of him giving out flirty answers to interviews.

Sending you lots of love, angel! mwaaa~

Bludgers and Butterflies ♡ : A James Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : James Potter x fem!reader

summary : When a charming Quidditch star meets a shy but witty journalist during an interview, playful banter turns into something far more magical—proving that sometimes, all it takes is one conversation to change everything.

warnings : Extreme fluff, Mild suggestive flirting, Excessive charm from James Potter, Heart-melting romantic declarations, Potential swooning, (Proceed with caution—side effects may include giggling, blushing, and uncontrollable smiling.) Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : I am utterly delighted to write about Professional Quidditch Player James Potter—because honestly, who wouldn’t be?! The man’s got that messy hair, golden-boy charm, and enough flirt energy to power the entire Hogwarts castle. Writing this felt like sipping hot cocoa while being serenaded by a broomstick-riding flirt with a heart of gold. Huge thanks to Miko for requesting this—you’ve sparked a very fluffy daydream and filled it with smirks, blushes, and a whole lot of James Potter magic. 💫💛 Hope you enjoy, my love <3 and THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

word count : 1k

main master list <3

banners : @uzmacchiato and @cafekitsune

The lights of the press room glared down like a thousand eyes—unblinking, expectant, and annoyingly hot. James Potter leaned back in his chair with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent a lifetime being watched, admired, and occasionally tackled mid-air by Bulgarian Beaters.

And then she walked in.

Not the league president, not the publicist, not even the press coordinator with his eternal clipboard. Her. The interviewer.

She wasn’t wearing anything extraordinary—just a smart set of robes, ink-stained fingers, and the softest little smile. But Merlin, did she shine. Like a Snitch in sunlight. Like a poem whispered at midnight. Like the exact kind of trouble James would gladly fall headfirst into without a helmet.

He straightened up at once.

“Mr. Potter,” she greeted, offering her hand, her voice a melody dipped in honey and ink.

“Call me James,” he said, shaking it and wondering if she could hear the way his heart was currently conducting a Quidditch match in his chest. “Or future love of your life, if you prefer.”

She blinked. Laughed. Tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you always this forward with journalists?”

“Only the ones who look like they walked out of my daydreams.”

Merlin’s pants, was that too much? He cursed internally. But she just gave him that shy little smile again—the one that felt like a bludger to the ribs.

They sat, and she brought out her quill. “Let’s begin. How does it feel to be the youngest Chaser to ever win the British-Irish League?”

James pretended to ponder. “Honestly? It feels like the world is conspiring to impress you.”

She let out a snort, quickly masked by a cough. “Stick to the sport, Mr. Potter.”

“Fine,” he said, grinning. “It feels good. Like scoring the winning goal while your mum’s in the stands and your dad’s pretending not to cry.”

She scribbled something down, cheeks tinged pink. “And what motivates you during high-pressure matches?”

“You.”

She looked up.

“Alright,” he amended with a smirk, “you and the sheer fear of getting smacked in the face by a rogue Quaffle. But mostly you.”

“I’m going to write that down, you know,” she warned, though the blush on her cheeks betrayed the storm he was starting in her heart.

“Please do. I want future generations to know that I fell for the girl who asked me about high-pressure matches and accidentally stole my soul.”

The interview continued, filled with professional questions answered with entirely unprofessional charm. She tried to remain composed, she really did. But James watched her fidget with the edge of her parchment, bite the tip of her quill, smile without meaning to.

By the end, she was flustered, flattered, and more than a little amused.

“Well,” she said, packing her things. “That’s all for today.”

James stood with her, his hand grazing hers by accident—or fate.

“Wait,” he said. “Before you go. Can I ask you something completely un-sport-related?”

She tilted her head. “Go on.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice dropping just a little. “Can I have your number?”

She laughed—really laughed this time. And then, with a sigh that sounded like it carried every secret wish she’d ever had, she handed him a tiny piece of parchment with her name and contact information. A soft, shy smile bloomed on her lips.

James stared at it, then at her, as if he’d just been handed the map to every dream he didn’t know he had.

“This is it,” he said softly, to no one and everyone. “This is the woman I’m going to spend my entire waking life with.”

Her eyes widened. “You just met me.”

“I know,” he said, already breathless with devotion. “But I’ve caught Snitches in storms and played with broken fingers. And nothing has ever felt more right than you standing in front of me with ink on your hands and that smile on your lips.”

She smiled wider, a little dazed, a little delighted, and before she could reply, he stepped back like he’d fall even deeper if he stayed a moment longer.

── .✦

Later that night, James flopped onto his bed and pressed his enchanted mirror to his lips.

“Sirius.”

It took three seconds before Sirius Black’s face appeared, his hair a mess and his expression suspicious.

“Did you get hexed again?”

“No,” James said, a smile creeping onto his face, softer than clouds and warmer than Butterbeer. “I met someone.”

Sirius blinked. “What, like a fan?”

“No. Her.” James stared at the ceiling, dreamy and dazed. “She interviewed me today. And I swear, Pads, it was like flying without a broom. I’ve never felt something like this.”

“You’ve known her for five minutes,” Sirius deadpanned.

“I know, but—her smile, mate. It could unseat gravity. I made her laugh. She blushed. She gave me her number. And the second she did, I just knew. I want to be by her side. I want to see that smile every day. I want to be the one she talks to when she’s tired and when she’s happy and when her tea’s gone cold.”

Sirius stared at him like he’d been confunded.

“You’re not joking.”

James shook his head. “I never believed in love at first sight, but just one glance at her, and I felt like—like I’m home.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Sirius grinned. “You’re completely gone.”

James sighed, lovestruck. “Completely.”

And for once, Sirius didn’t tease. He just nodded.

“Then go get her, mate. Go find your home.”

[pinkshortbread]

Heyyy!! I'd like to request some headcanons for Curly and Daisuke with a fem reader who is an absolute NERDDD, like she spends most of her days on the Tulpar just scribbling notes in her notebook, doing random calculations or doing random experiments or watching documentaries, and then she rambles about math/biology/chemistry/any nerdy subject to her lover for like HOURSSS oh and she mentions the weird/funky facts abt her interests too!!! Take your time with this, have a great day/evening and thank you!!! :D

I love it !!!

In this request, I'm considering the female reader as Anya's intern who's giving a boost to the crew.

[Medical Nerd] Female Reader who rambles about her interests with :

💫 Curly 💫

"What do you mean your parents used to clean the toilets with vinegar and bleach, you do that too ? And now you ask me is it safe for Jimmy to do that ?" "I do." "Grant, I mean Captain- Arf, I can't describe with words how much I'm confused about how you all survived, you can get intoxicated." "Intoxicated ?" "Yes. It creates chlorine gas." "Oh my god."

Curly walking to the medical bay so he can have some of his time-off with you while you ramble about your chemistry studies.

Him listening carefully, sometimes glancing quickly on your lips. Arms crossed, chest raised, smiling softly, nodding at every information you give.

You, a bit ashamed of your remark, excused for your behaviour.

Curly reassuring you about how you wanted to do good, that you shouldn't be embarrassed but him.

"Sorry, I talk too much." "Don't say that, it's interesting." "People used to say I should stop rambling about my nerd shit." "Your nerd shit huh ? Well, the nerd shit they defined, that's what allowed you to get on board." "Right..."

Sometimes, Curly coming behind your back and placing his hands onto your tensed shoulders, a simple gesture to pass the message that you need some rest.

"You seem passionate." "I am." "That's what makes you different about your old pals. Take some time for yourself." "Right Captain." "Call me Curly."

That intern is kind of cute.

🌺 Daisuke 🌺

"Did you know the Pfizers reseachers were working on a substance against hypertension in the nineties, but they created what is now called Viagra ?" "Dude- I mean-" "Too forward ? Yeah, I know sorry, I shouldn't ramble so much about medical discoveries, especially this one-" "I want to know more." "Ah."

Daisuke curiously asking for some random facts after you dropped this nonchalant information.

Him suddenly wanting to know more about you before the Tulpar's departure : where you came from ; why choosing Pony Express ; were you supposed to scientist or something.

Let's just say, you just respond that you had to fill an intership to complete and finish your studies so you can reach you degree.

"Pharmaceutic." "Pharmaceutic ? Oh, that explains that Viagra anecdocte." "Yeah." "Wait, how did you know that-" "Shut up." "Okay."

Daisuke sneaking in the medical bay to pinch your sides during his break time while you scribbled something on your notebook, laughs filling the room not too short after that.

"Whatcha doing ?" "Oh, filling some informations about your health such as your age, your height, your weight, your medical history." "Oooooh, I see, and the random medical doodles ?" "Part of the work." "Yeah, yeah, I see. Pfrt-" "OKAY SOMETIMES I DRAW TOO."

[elluqien710]

day 09: enjoy 🌸

“Enjoy.”

Káno looked up. “What?”

Turko narrowed his eyes, lips tightening into a thin grimace. “You enjoy this?”

Káno glanced around him. Music books and scribbled notated papers were strewn about in a cluttered mess. He clutched a quill in one ink-smudged hand and a flute in the other.

He grinned. “Yes.”

Turko snorted and flipped through Káno’s illegibly written sheet music. “You’ve locked yourself in this room for days, have been singing non-stop, and is clearly sleep-deprived.”

Káno let out a dreamy sigh. “And I love it. It’s wonderful. The melodies…the music…how could you not enjoy it?”

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

“Enjoy.”

Maglor didn’t know what it meant anymore.

Walking, day after day, across the shore against the crashing waves and roaring ocean. Dragging his weary feet through the sand. Shivering as wind gusts pierced his skin and rattled his bones.

He was but a wraith. A ghost, drained of all passion or life.

His instruments had long broken. He merely opened his cracked lips and sang the melancholy Nolodantë, his voice but a thin whisper drifting through the air. Mourning, as a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the salt thankless Sea.

Enjoy.

He had long forgotten what it was.

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

<- day 08: stars 💫 | day 10: serenade 💗 ->

all drabbles

[the-golden-comet]

✨Writing Share🪽✨

Thank you for the tags, @lychhiker-writes and @fractured-shield !! 💛💫

Some more shares from—hold on…this isn’t YWIMC…. This is Tenshito 🫣✨

“Ten….” Shito smiled. “….You always have been a bit of a chicken-heart, huh?”

“I guess you’re right….” The corner of Tenshi’s lips curled up to form a hint of a smile.

Itazura frowned as he looked around the room awkwardly, dropping his hands from Tenshi’s shoulders as he raised his eyebrow. “Does it….really bother you not knowing what I am, though?”

“W-well, not so much that….” Tenshi shrugged as he sat back on the bed, followed by Shito shortly after. “….It’s just….I don’t like keeping secrets, and I consider us to be….well….”

Shito raised both eyebrows, intrigued at the angel.

Ten continued. “….l-like brothers. So, if there’s something I should know…..I would rather you tell me…”

Itazura smirked. “Now who’s being nosy?”

“I-I….” Tenshi smiled as laughed weakly. “Y-yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just curious…”

Tagging (no pressure): @pippinoftheshire , @ellierenae , @justabigoldnerd , @ramwritblr , @rotting-moon-writes , @frostedlemonwriter , @noblebs , @cowboybrunch , @xenascribbles , @poorreputation , @kaeru483 , @katenewmanwrites , @far-cry-from-finality , @bookish-karina , @scribble-dee-vee , @agirlandherquill , +open tag! 💛✨

👇Tag list below cut 👇

Tag List for story tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@autism-purgatory , @jev-urisk , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @wyked-ao3 , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @fortunatetragedy , @deanwax , @dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes , @thatuselesshuman , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @katenewmanwrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @theaistired , @willtheweaver , @rivenantiqnerd , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin

[rivendellwatch]

🌸✨ Hey lovelies! Happy new day of Fluff Week✨🌸

It’s officially April 3rd, and we’re in full swing for the event! 💖💫 If you’re posting today, tomorrow, or even on Saturday, go for it—I’m loving everything so far! For those wanting a little extra time, I’ll close the collection on Sunday morning (the 6th of april), so you have until then! ⏳💞

This morning, I accepted a bunch of amazing works, and I’m catching up on notifications + reblogging right now! 📢💕

If you need an extended timeframe, just DM me—totally cool! 💌

Now onto 5 new prompts for you peeps!!!🌸

1️⃣ "You’re so warm..." – One character cuddles up to another, soaking in their warmth after a long day. Bonus points if they fall asleep mid-snuggle! 🥺

2️⃣ "I made this for you!" – A sweet homemade gift exchange! Maybe it's a knitted scarf, a hand-picked flower, or a scribbled love note. 🎁💝

3️⃣ "Dance with me?" – A spontaneous, giggly dance in the kitchen, under the stars, or in the rain. Maybe they step on each other's toes, maybe they don’t care?✨

4️⃣ "Stay a little longer..." – One character hesitates to leave, lingering just a moment more. Maybe they don’t want to say goodbye just yet. 💞

5️⃣ "Pinky promise!" – A childhood tradition, a heartfelt vow, or a tiny gesture of trust—sealed with a pinky swear. 💖

[magic-shop-stories]

Girl I am still not over your Yoongs Dad Ff. I need Jimin as a dad to wreck me! Please!!! His daughter or son has constant nightmares and refuses to sleep alone. Jimin, being the ultimate softie, stays up all night inventing silly things to help with the nightmares, but when his child finally confesses why she/he is scared (a bully at school), Jimin shares his own childhood fears and teaches to stand up (love yourself etc.)

PS: Can you imagine his child is having an obsession with space?

💌 Reply:

WHERE DO YA'LL GET THOSE AMAZING IDEAS? I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH, (and I obviously didn't spent half the night looking up space stuff *cough).

I hope this is what you wanted 💜💫 And Thank you, THANK YOU SO MUCH

REQUEST NAME:

A Constellation of Light

↳ Jimin x Child!Haneun (Parent/Child); Angst with Comfort, Fluff, Protective Dad

Rating: G (General Audience)

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Slice of Life BTS AU, Parent, Angst with Feelings

Warning: mentions of bullying and childhood night terrors (no graphic descriptions)

Pairing: None (Parent-Child Relationship)

Featuring: Dad!Jimin, Haneun (Jimin’s child), themes of self-acceptance, overcoming fear

Scene 1: The Nightmares

The house was quiet at 2:03 AM, save for the refrigerator’s rhythmic hum and the creak of floorboards groaning under the weight of Jimin’s restless pacing. He sat cross-legged on the living room rug now, fingers stained with fabric glue, surrounded by scraps of silver felt and a battalion of half-finished plush planets. Saturn’s rings lay lopsided on his lap, but his focus was on the smallest one—a tiny Pluto, its heart-shaped surface stitched with clumsy care. Small but mighty he thought, thumb brushing the dwarf planet’s embroidered craters. Just like someone I know.

Haneun’s whimpers still clawed at his ears. Earlier, they’d thrashed so violently that their glow-in-the-dark constellation blanket had pooled on the floor like a fallen galaxy. “Appa, don’t leave! The shadows—they’re gonna eat me again!” Their six-year-old voice had been raw, small fists tangled in his shirt as if he were the only gravity holding them to Earth. Jimin had rocked them until their sobs dissolved into hiccups, murmuring into their sweat-damp hair: "Shhh, Mochi-Star. Appa’s here. The shadows can’t reach you here.” But the guilt lingered like a bruise.

He’d missed the signs. The way Haneun had started tracing their cereal into star shapes at breakfast, whispering “black hole” under their breath. The crayon drawings left crumpled in their backpack—scribbled voids with jagged teeth, a stick-figure astronaut crying in the corner.

Jimin stabbed the needle into Pluto, his throat tight. What kind of father doesn’t notice their child is drowning in the dark?

---

Flashback: Two Weeks Earlier

The first nightmare had been a whisper.

Jimin had been editing choreography videos at the kitchen table, headphones on when a muffled thud pierced the quiet. He’d found Haneun on the floor beside their bed, knees scraped raw from colliding with the bedframe, their NASA rocket nightlight casting long shadows that made their wide eyes gleam like scared moons.

“Appa… there was a monster,” they’d hiccuped, fingers clutching the torn hem of their Apollo 11 pyjama top. Jimin’s stomach dropped at the tremble in their voice—a sound too fragile for a child who’d once declared they’d “punch a meteor” to protect their Bangtan uncles.

“Shh, let’s fix those knees first,” he’d said, carrying them to the bathroom. The antiseptic stung, and Haneun yelped, kicking their legs. “I know, baby, I know. Almost done.” He’d blown softly on the wound, the way his own mother had when he’d skinned his knees practising pirouettes.

“The monster… it had teeth like stage lights,” Haneun whispered, staring at their reflection in the medicine cabinet. “And it said… said I’d never fly away. That I’m too little.”

Jimin’s hands stilled. He’d knelt before them, cupping their tear-streaked face. “Listen to me,” he said, tapping their nose. “Know what Pluto told me once? 'Being small means you’re sneaky enough to slip past the scary stuff.’” He’d gestured to the Pluto plushie slumped on the sink—a gift for Haneun’s 5th birthday, its threadbare fabric proof of how often they dragged it to preschool. “And Mochi-Stars?” He’d pressed a kiss to their forehead. “They’re made of stardust. Monsters can’t eat stardust. It’s too sparkly.”

Haneun giggled, but their smile didn’t reach their eyes.

---

However, the nightmares metastasized.

Haneun began waking up screaming, “black holes!” shrieks shredding the night. Twice, they’d wet the bed, trembling as Jimin stripped the soiled sheets. “I’m s-sorry,” they’d sobbed, hiding their face in the Pluto plush. “The dark… it sucked me in.”

Jimin stopped sleeping. He’d camp outside their door, phone flashlight scanning for shadows, until Haneun started refusing to change out of their astronaut pyjamas. “If I take them off, the spaceship won’t find me,” they argued, knees pulled to their chest during a 3 AM standoff. Their hair stuck up in sleep-mussed tufts, eyes red-rimmed and defiant.

“Baby, you’ll get a rash,” Jimin pleaded, holding out fresh clothes.

“NO!” Haneun kicked the laundry basket, sending socks flying. “The monsters win if I sleep! They said—they said—” Their voice cracked. “They said even Daddy can’t save me!”

Jimin’s breath caught. He’d gathered them up, ignoring the flailing limbs, and carried them to the living room. They’d watched the sunrise together, Haneun’s tears drying salt stains on his shirt, while he silently vowed to build them a fortress of light.

Scene 2: A Fight Against Shadows

By the fifth night, Jimin declared war—not with anger, but with glitter.

He’d spent hours hunched over his laptop, researching constellations until his vision blurred. Orion the Hunter—a warrior. Ursa Major—a guide. Cygnus the Swan—a symbol of transformation. He’d chosen them deliberately, arranging the glow-in-the-dark stars into a celestial army above Haneun’s bed. But it was the addition of Canis Minor, the “Little Dog,” that made his throat tighten. He’d painted its faintest star, Procyon, gold. Loyalty, he thought. A protector for my cub.

“Ready, Mochi-Star?” Jimin hoisted six-year-old Haneun onto his shoulders, their astronaut-patterned socks digging into his collarbone. They gasped as he flicked off the lights, revealing the constellations blazing above them.

“Whoa… It’s like we’re inside the spaceship!” Haneun whispered, their small finger tracing Orion’s belt. The stickers shimmered like distant suns, casting soft cerulean patterns on their Pluto nightlight.

“These stars are your shield,” Jimin said, bouncing them gently. “See Orion’s bow? He’s already shooting the monsters. And Cygnus—” He pointed to the swan’s wingspan. “She’ll carry you out of bad dreams.”

Haneun’s grip tightened on his hair. “But… what if the stars are scared too?”

Jimin’s chest ached. He lowered them to the floor, kneeling so their eyes met. “Even stars get scared. Know what they do?” He reached into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a chipped spray bottle filled with water, lavender oil, and silver glitter. The lavender was from his mother’s garden in Busan— her remedy for his childhood night terrors. He’d added the glitter himself.

“They shine,” he said, pressing the bottle into Haneun’s hands. The label read GALAXY GUARDIAN REPELLENT in his messy Hangul. “And sometimes… they fight back.”

Haneun’s eyes widened as Jimin aimed the spray at the closet door. “Behold, evil space sludge!” he barked in his best superhero voice, dousing the shadows. “Psh! Taste the sparkles, losers!”

Glitter rained down, catching the starlight. Haneun’s laughter bubbled up, bright and clear—a sound Jimin hadn’t heard in weeks. They scrambled to their feet, spraying wildly. “Die, monster! Pshh-pah-pow!”

But bedtime unraveled the magic.

Haneun froze at the door, their NASA blanket clutched to their chest. The new Jellycat Sun plushie—softer than a cloud, bought after hours of frantic online searching—lay abandoned on the floor.

“Appa… stay,” they pleaded, lower lip wobbling. “The stars… they’re too far away.”

Jimin’s resolve crumbled. He’d sworn he’d teach them to sleep alone again, but the raw fear in their voice undid him. “Shove over, satellite,” he whispered, squeezing into the narrow bed. Haneun immediately burrowed into his side, their cold toes pressing against his ribs.

He hummed Mikrokosmos, voice rasping as he traced the lyrics onto their back. Haneun’s breathing slowed, but Jimin kept singing long after they drifted off, his fingers tangled in their hair.

Scene 3: The Breaking Point

It unraveled on a Tuesday—the kind of afternoon where the sky hung low and gray, threatening rain but never shedding tears. Jimin arrived at the school gates, humming Moonchild under his breath, only to freeze at the sight of Haneun.

They sat alone on the playground’s rocket-shaped slide, knees drawn to their chest, their favorite NASA backpack slumped beside them like a deflated spacesuit. The backpack’s fabric was torn at the strap, its embroidered Pluto patch hanging by a thread. Jimin’s stomach dropped. Haneun had sewn that patch themselves after their first planetarium trip, declaring Pluto “the bravest planet because it dances alone.”

“Hey, Mochi-Star,” Jimin called softly, crouching in front of them. Haneun’s astronaut pyjamas peeked out beneath their jeans—they’d worn them to school again—and their hands clutched something small and fuzzy. The Pluto plushie, Jimin realized. Its left ear was nearly torn off.

“Appa…” Haneun’s voice was a cracked whisper. They thrust a crumpled drawing into his hands: a stick-figure child floating in space, surrounded by scribbled black holes. Scrawled in red crayon across the top were the words “TOO SMALL TO FLY.”

Jimin’s pulse roared. He could smell the sharp tang of antiseptic from Haneun’s scraped knees, and see the faint tremor in their shoulders. “Who did this?” he asked, careful to keep his voice steady.

Haneun’s face crumpled. “J-Junseo,” they hiccuped, burying their face in the plushie. “H-he said… said astronauts aren’t real heroes. That Appa’s just a dancer who… who jumps around like a girl.”

The words struck like a live wire. Suddenly, Jimin was 15 again, pinned against a dance studio mirror as his classmates mocked his “soft” hips and “baby face.” “Pabo,” they’d sneered when he stumbled. “You’ll never make it.” He’d locked himself in a bathroom stall that night, chewing his sleeve to muffle sobs that shook his entire body.

Not my baby. Not this pain.

Jimin gathered Haneun into his arms, their tears seeping through his shirt. He rocked them slowly, counting the rhythm in his head—1, 2, 3, 4, the way he’d counted beats to survive panic attacks before and long after debut. “Listen to me,” he murmured, tilting their chin up. “When I was younger, people said my body was… wrong for dancing. Too small. Too… gentle.”

Haneun blinked, eyes glistening. “But you’re famous now.”

“Because I kept dancing.” He pressed their palm to his chest, letting them feel his heartbeat. “Know what else is small? Pluto. And yet—” He pointed to the planet’s embroidered heart on their backpack. “It’s got its moons. It's very own orbit. Just like you.”

Haneun sniffled, fiddling with the plushie’s torn ear. “But Junseo said… said believing in space is stupid.”

Jimin’s jaw tightened. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the Galaxy Guardian spray—now a permanent fixture on his keychain. “Spray him.”

Haneun gasped. “Appa! I can’t—”

“Not at him. For you.” He uncapped the bottle, spritzing a glittering arc above their heads. “Monsters hate sparkles. So do bullies.”

A tiny giggle escaped Haneun. Jimin seized the moment, sliding off his silver bracelet—a gift engraved with SHINE in constellations. He clasped it around their wrist. “This is made of meteorite. Forged in fire, just like my Mochi-Star.”

Scene 4: The Constellation of Courage

The next morning, Jimin transformed the hallway mirror into a battlefield.

“Okay, Mochi-Star,” he said, kneeling behind Haneun as they glared at their reflection. The repaired Pluto patch on their backpack gleamed with gold thread, and Jimin’s meteorite bracelet hung loose on their tiny wrist. “Show me your satellite stance.”

Haneun squared their shoulders, fists raised like the cartoon astronauts on their socks. “So what if I’m small?!” they shouted, voice bouncing off the walls. “Satellites are small too, and they… they orbit planets!”

Jimin whooped, spinning them around. “Louder! Make the black holes tremble!”

“THEY ORBIT PLANETS!” Haneun screamed, dissolving into giggles as Jimin tossed them onto the couch. He’d spent hours curating a playlist of Bangtan blooper reels of Jungkook slipping on confetti, Yoongi faceplanting during a mic check, and himself tripping mid-air during Butterfly rehearsals.

“See this?” Jimin paused the video, pointing to his 19-year-old self sprawled on the practice room floor. “I cried for an hour after this. Thought I’d never dance again.”

Haneun leaned closer, their nose nearly touching the screen. “But… you got up.”

“We always get up.” He tapped their bracelet, the engraved SHINE catching the light.

That night, the nightmare came again—but this time, Haneun was ready.

The dream began as it always did: suffocating darkness, the air thick and cold like the vacuum of space. Shadowy tendrils slithered from the corners, forming a grinning mouth with jagged, neon teeth—Junseo’s voice echoed from its throat. “Stupid little satellite. Who’d waste fuel to rescue you?”

Haneun froze in their dream, their NASA pyjamas glowing faintly as the black hole yawned wider. But then—a warmth pulsed at their wrist. The meteorite bracelet burned like a tiny sun, illuminating the Galaxy Repellent clutched in their hand.

“NO!” Haneun screamed, spraying glitter straight into the void. “MY APPAS’S A HERO! AND I—I’M A PLUTO GUARDIAN!”

The shadows recoiled, hissing as lavender and glitter fused into stardust. The nightmare splintered, reforming into a new scene: Haneun stood atop Pluto’s heart-shaped glacier, surrounded by Jimin’s glow-in-the-dark constellations. Orion’s arrow pierced the darkness, Cygnus’ wings fanned out behind them, and Procyon—the loyal “Little Dog” star—barked triumphantly at their feet.

“You’re… beautiful,” the black hole stammered, its voice shrinking into a squeak.

Haneun grinned, dousing it one last time. “*And you’re extinct.”

---

Jimin later woke to the sound of laughter.

He’d fallen asleep in the hallway—again—his back against Haneun’s door. But the giggles weren’t from a nightmare. Peeking inside, he found Haneun sprawled on their galaxy-print rug, crayoning furiously.

“Look, Appa!” They waved a paper titled PLUTO’S BRAVEST SATELLITE—a detailed self-portrait in a spacesuit, surrounded by glitter-glue stars. The shadow monsters were now tiny, comical blobs fleeing from a spray bottle.

Jimin’s eyes stung. “Is that… me?” He pointed to a stick figure in dance gear, mid-air beside Cygnus.

“Yep! That’s Appa doing a moonwalk on the swan!” Haneun declared as if this were an astrophysical fact.

He pulled them into a hug, breathing in the lavender-glitter scent clinging to their hair. They’d used the spray without him.

Scene 5: Planetarium Promises

The planetarium hummed like the inside of a starship, its domed ceiling swirling with supernovas and nebulas in hues of violet and gold. Jimin leaned back in his seat, the leather creaking softly, as Haneun’s sneakers kicked excitedly against the footrest. They’d insisted on wearing their astronaut pyjamas beneath a jacket studded with glow-in-the-dark stars—“for cosmic camouflage!”—and the scent of lavender still clung to their collar from a pre-trip spritz of Galaxy Repellent.

“Appa, look!” Haneun whispered, loud enough that the elderly couple two rows ahead turned to smile. They pointed to a cluster of stars morphing into the Canis Minor constellation. “That’s us! See? Procyon’s the brightest—that’s you!”

Jimin’s throat tightened. The projector’s light caught the meteorite bracelet on Haneun’s wrist, its engraved SHINE glinting like a tiny supernova. “And that little star next to it?” He tapped their nose, now dusted with freckles from weeks of defiantly playing outdoors. “That’s my Mochi-Star. Bravest satellite in the galaxy.”

Haneun giggled, snuggling into his side. Their warmth was familiar, a contrast to the planetarium’s cool air. For a moment, Jimin was back in their home, rocking a sobbing child under glow-in-the-dark stars. Now, those stars adorned Haneun’s jacket, sewn on with lopsided stitches they’d insisted on doing themselves.

The narrator’s voice boomed overhead, describing Pluto’s heart-shaped plains. Haneun sat bolt upright. “Appa, they’re talking about my planet!” They dug into their backpack, pulling out a crumpled drawing—Pluto’s Bravest Satellite, now laminated and dotted with glitter. “See? I told the teacher Pluto’s not sad it’s small. It’s… it’s special.”

Jimin’s eyes burned. He’d spent years crafting lyrics about love and pain, but nothing compared to the poetry of his child’s resilience. “Just like you,” he murmured, tucking the drawing back into their bag. His fingers brushed the repaired strap of their NASA backpack, the gold-threaded Pluto patch gleaming. Scars make the stars brighter, he’d told them during the repair. Now, Haneun wore those words like armour.

As the show ended, Haneun yawned, their head drooping onto his shoulder. Outside, dusk had painted the sky in cotton-candy pink. Jimin carried them to the car, their breath soft against his neck.

“Appa?” Haneun mumbled, half-asleep.

“Yeah, baby?”

“…Thanks for being my shield.”

The words unravelled him. He remembered nights spent Googling childhood night terrors, frantic calls to child therapists, and the way Haneun’s screams had carved grooves into his heart. Now, those grooves bloomed with galaxies.

“Always,” he whispered, buckling them into the car seat. Their eyelids fluttered, the glow-in-the-dark stars on their sleeve faintly luminous in the dark.

On the way Jimim thought - you don’t need me to be your shield anymore - watching Haneun’s chest rise and fall in sleep. You’ve built your constellations. His phone buzzed—a reminder for tomorrow’s parent-teacher conference. He smiled. Junseo’s mom had finally agreed to a mediation session, and Haneun had requested to bring the Galaxy Repellent. “For diplomatic reasons,” they’d said, mimicking a phrase Yoongi taught them.

As he drove home, the radio played Mikrokosmos on low. Haneun stirred, their voice drowsy with dreams of stardust. “Appa… next time, let’s go to real space.”

Jimin glanced at the rearview mirror, catching their reflection bathed in passing streetlights. “Deal. But only if you teach me how to moonwalk on Cygnus.”

Haneun’s laughter filled the car, bright and boundless, a sound no shadow could ever swallow.

[wolfstarworks]

Hey guys! Thanks to the amazing talents of OnyxOnline and my constant fretting over my Smiling Critters OC Wolfstar, I've decided to make the Wonder Critters! They're also some Space Riders! They are: Out among the stars, where comets hum lullabies and galaxies glow like city lights, there’s a crew unlike any other — the Wonder Critters! A team of stargazers, dream-chasers, artists, and adventurers, these eight spacefaring misfits are bound together not just by missions, but by friendship, creativity, and heart. 💫

📸 Pipette — The Squirrel Energetic, sharp-eyed, and ever the optimist, Pipette is the team's fearless leader and photographer! His camera is always hanging from his neck, ready to capture cosmic wonders or candid crew smiles. A natural ray of sunshine wrapped in an orange and gold tail. He's always steady, always dependable, and madly in love with Wolfstar. 🌟

🌌 Wolfstar — The Wolf The sleepy stargazer with droopy eyes and an even softer heart. Wolfstar is the astronomer of the crew — his mind always somewhere deep in the stars, even when his body’s still. Kind, quiet, and brave in his own quiet way, he recently faced one of his greatest challenges: the loss of his leg due to a cultist ambush, but he wears his new prosthetic like a badge of survival. 💙

✍️ Quilliam — The Porcupine Sharp quills, sharper wit. Quilliam is the writer of the team, always scribbling away tales, logs, and the occasional snarky comment. Beneath that brainy exterior lies a heart that’s just as soft as his plush little scarf. 📖

🎸 Strumly — The Koala Chill vibes only. Strumly’s the crew’s resident musician and the affectionate soul who makes sure everyone’s hearts are in tune, not just their instruments. Always strumming away at his guitar, always ready with a hug or a melody. 🎵

🎼 Melody — The Moth The cool, quiet one with a head full of symphonies and eyes full of stars. Melody is a composer who doesn’t need to speak much — her music tells you everything you need to know. She’s the definition of graceful in flight and in thought. 🌙

🍰 Sugarpaws — The Cat If there’s a kitchen, there’s Sugarpaws. The foodie, baker, and heart of home-cooked comfort for the crew. Sweet treats and sweet words are her specialty — always ready with a cupcake and a comforting nudge. 🍪

🧵 Purl — The Lamb Knitter, mender, and the team’s unofficial therapist. Purl's hands are always busy weaving warmth into reality, whether it's a scarf or a solution. She’s also the medic, patching wounds and hearts alike. 🧶

🎨 Fawna — The Deer The shy painter with the gentlest heart. Fawna sees the universe through a canvas and always carries a sketchbook to capture fleeting beauty. She’s quiet, thoughtful, and the crew’s steady calming presence. 🎨

💫✨ Whether charting star maps, baking galaxy-themed cakes, or just lounging in the ship's common room tangled in yarn and laughter, the Wonder Critters are proof that found family is the greatest adventure of all.

WonderCritters #OriginalCharacters #AnthroArt #FurryOC #SpaceCrew #CrittersOfTheGalaxy 🚀🌠

(BTW: THE APP I'M USING, IBIS PAINT X, IS NOT COOPERATING AT THE MOMENT! SO THE EYES CAN'T BE BLACK AND WHITE! I'LL FIX THAT IN TIME!!) My goal is for Onyx to notice! Here's Wolfstar and Pipette:

Wolfstar

Pipette

These two are a cute gay couple! YIPPEE!!! SPACE RIDERS AU BELONGS TO @onyxonline

[marosina]

Band!Eren pt. 3-1 (Hometown: Lore Tour)

Modern AU, reader x Eren, famous!Eren, band!Eren (guitar+vocals)

Series warning: 🌶️

Part 1

💫 When you arrive in Shiganshina for the band’s hometown show, you can’t help but feel giddy. Eren’s early lyrics included references to the people, places, and things all around you—and now you get to see them for yourself.

💫 You probably could have just driven over on show day, seeing as you live only a couple of hours away. However, you’ve decided to make this a weekend trip so you have time to explore beforehand and rest afterward. After checking into your hotel, you head out with a map of the sights you want to see.

💫 You start with the large wall separating the city from the seafront, which is mentioned in a number of lyrics. As you stand on top of it, wind blowing through your hair, you feel inspired to write your own.

💫 Then, you visit the high school the band was born from. You’re sure to take a picture for your friends back home. You even take a picture with the sign out front that reads “Go Titans!”

💫 You can’t be 100% certain, as it was never confirmed by the man himself, but you’ve heard through the rumour mill that the coffee shop you’re approaching is the same one Eren used to frequent; the building where most of their first two albums were written.

💫 As you open the door to Sonny’s Beans you’re now at least 99% sure that the rumours are true. There he is, sitting at a table in the back with two familiar strangers: Armin and Mikasa, his childhood friends. You’ve seen them in the few photos from Eren’s pre-band days that fanpages circulate from time to time. Eren’s mostly hidden behind a plant but you’d recognize those hands anywhere.

💫 His “stalker” comment from a few weeks ago rings in your ears, so you do your best to act like he’s not there. Celebrities deserve privacy too, and the other patrons seem to be on the same page. No one bothers them and you don’t either.

💫 You order your drink and sit at the window bar with your notebook, scribbling down the words your earlier sightseeing inspired. They’re not much yet but the cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop fills you with the energy to sculpt and refine them. It’s easy to understand why Eren spent so much time here.

💫 By the time you finish your drink, you’ve got a verse and hook. You pack up to leave, but before you can make it too far out the door you hear that smooth, deep voice call your name.

💫 Armin and Mikasa study you closely as Eren closes the distance. He wasn’t expecting to run into you before the show, especially when he’d just been talking about you to his friends. Not that he lets you know that. This is strictly professional, after all.

💫 You’re a bit embarrassed to be caught on your band lore tour and he teases you about it. It’s a bad idea, but he offers to treat you to dinner that night in exchange for your promise to never confirm the location. He made a deal with the owners years ago to try and preserve the quiet and stable lifestyle they preferred.

💫 You may or may not feel like you’re going to explode from his invitation but you’re determined not to show it. You accept and joke that you’ll even make a post to throw off the trail if he throws in dessert. Eren grins and suggests one a few streets over that ‘really deserves more hype’.

💫 Armin and Mikasa exchange a glance just as Eren says he’ll message you the details within the next couple of hours. You watch them disappear around the corner, Eren waving his friends off as they pester him. Then it hits you.

💫 Eren Jaeger—the man you’ve spent way too much time and money idolizing over the last couple of years—wants to spend his time and money on you tonight.

Fun fact: one of the local high schools in my hometown called their sports teams the “Titans”! I once cosplayed Mikasa in their practice gear c:

Tagging: @katestrophes @jaegersdiary

Comment or message to be added to tag list <3

Part 2 | Part 3-2: TBA

Fanart

[dedeinthewild]

pepe martì x reader, intrusive thoughts

~ from hand scribbles series (tell me an oddly specific situation/state of mind and I'll rec/write a fic about it)

"Oh—uh—sorry. Intrusive thoughts."

situation : do you ever think about how sweet and gentle the other person is when trying to match your height? and how much their neck just seems so kissable?

-Dos polos, por favor.-

The sun had been scorching all day, and although the beach wasn't noisy, there were a few kids playing with a ball, slapping the waves with bright, beautiful smiles. It was a special time in Barcelona, when most of the young people had gone on vacation elsewhere, and many families had decided to go to the mountains, leaving the beach almost empty, except for a few groups who kept the music low and spent the day enjoying each other's company.

She and Pepe had spread out a towel, dropping their things on the sand, quickly removing their shirts and shorts like people who had no other worries and diving into the water, holding their breath against the cooler September ocean.

The driver had come up with the idea to go to the beach when he brought her to Barcelona for one of the last Red Bull events he had to attend. She pretended not to love it, just to see the look on his face when he realized that she had actually enjoyed it—almost like it wasn’t clear under the sun how happy she was to watch him do his thing.

-Gracias,- he looked up from his popsicle wrapper, a half-step behind her, lingering on the warm smile the man behind the counter gave her as she tried speaking in their language—with those cheeks full of lightness Pepe dreamed of and those special eyes, tickled by the rebellious, salt-sprayed hair that fell over her shoulders.

-I may be envying your accent,- he teased with a gentle smile as they walked outside, the only sounds in the air, besides the distant music and the waves, being the crinkle of plastic as they tossed their wrappers into a trash bin, squinting at the sun that was starting to set, reminding them it was time for a snack.

-It’s the worst,- she laughed, standing beside him, the breeze from the ocean tugging her hair back, revealing her soft features.

-I think it’s cute, actually,- Pepe bit into his popsicle, careful not to let the sticky tropical flavor drip down onto his chin. It was his favorite flavor, one he’d loved since he was a child.

Pepe didn’t need to look at her. He had every detail of her memorized in his brown irises, and he knew exactly what was going through her mind at that moment. She had always been one of those people who cared deeply for the people around her, who felt most fulfilled when she could spend a simple, carefree day with them—talking about a childhood she could never get back and a future so close she could almost touch it. She was one of those people who craved moments, yet missed them while they were still happening. And there she was, standing, wrapped in a sarong around her waist—something she’d been insecure about many times, but with him, it was the last thing on her mind. She stood there, breathing softly, the breeze making the light fabric of her sarong dance, while the sunlight tinted her skin just a bit too much, making her think of how much she disliked the sun, but the smell of sunscreen made her feel at home.

He’d learned to appreciate that expression on her face, and it would always be magical to him. It was like the look on your mom’s face when you tell her about something amazing you’ve done, and she’s so proud of you it shows in every line of her face. Or the expression on your older sister’s face when you tell her you helped someone, and her pride radiates from her. It was like hearing a song too many times, but it always had the same effect on him.

-Say something in Spanish,- he told her, taking another bite of his popsicle.

-Why?- she asked, eating her popsicle slowly, trying not to make a mess with it.

-Because I like it,- he smiled, looking down at the little seashells at their feet, washed up by the ocean but left unbroken.

-Eres muy molesto, Pepe,- she laughed, looking up at him from the bottom of their significant height difference, making her already sweet face even cuter.

And she couldn’t say something like that to him, expecting him not to laugh at the obvious misunderstanding of the phrase in Spanish, which could easily be interpreted in a negative way.

-Pero te encanta, ¿a que sí?- he looked at her, with one of those laughs that made you want to laugh along, fixing his gaze on hers as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She had a little popsicle drip on her lips, looking so young.

-Tal vez,- she didn’t look away, biting the inside of her cheek to hide the smirk that was creeping up from her chest as she heard how Pepe’s voice dropped when he said that.

The air smelled like salt, and seafood from the nearby restaurants started to drift through the breeze, preparing for the evening’s service, while a group of boys a little farther down from them had grabbed a guitar and were strumming it, chewing on their popsicle sticks, improvising lyrics to a song they didn’t know by heart. And at that moment, she understood why the Spaniard felt at home there, why he loved coming here when he visited Barcelona. Because this place felt like youth. Like having too many worries, yet none at all. Like knowing what the future would bring, yet having no idea at the same time.

-Dilo otra vez,- he said.

-What, ‘maybe’?- she asked, as they continued walking, playfully nudging each other with their hands and feet, stumbling a little but laughing loudly in the middle of Barcelona.

-No. Anything. Just—keep talking,- he suggested, looking at the horizon, trying to let her know that he didn’t just like hearing her try to speak in his language. He loved hearing the way she finished her sentences with a slight question in her tone, almost as if asking for his approval, and the fact that it was her speaking made it even better.

She started saying something, looking down as she tied her hair with the elastic she’d kept in the crook of her elbow, her skin still warm from the sun, her voice growing more confident. But the ocean had other plans, and with the sound of a wave crashing against the pier, accompanied by the voices of the boys nearby, it stole her voice.

Pepe lowered himself slightly, bringing his face closer to hers so he could hear her better, with such a soft, disarming sweetness that it made her stop in her tracks for a moment, stealing her breath away with the minty scent of his skin. His slightly olive-toned skin highlighted his squared jaw, which wasn’t too prominent, and framed his face in harmony, along with his smooth, black hair that fell gently onto his pilot’s neck. The way he had crossed his arms behind his back, completely focused on her, letting go of the distance between them like there was nothing else but them at that moment.

And in that moment, it happened. Yes, it happened.

Her cold lips pressed just below his jaw, leaving a gentle, almost shy kiss on his skin. Without her thinking about it, dictated by the moment, and desired deeply.

-Did you just—?- Pepe froze, like a computer malfunctioning at the most crucial moment, the almost-finished popsicle stick in his hand, the sensation of cold still on his neck, making him lick his lips as he realized what had just happened.

-Oh—uh—sorry. Intrusive thoughts.-

She laughed, brushing away that tiny hint of shyness caused by the insecurity she’d always had.

Her eyes were happy, her body light, as though she wasn’t even touching the ground, while the breeze played with her sarong and the sunlight made her figure seem almost ethereal. She hadn’t thought about it. She hadn’t spent the last hour calculating the pros and cons, letting the fear of missing an opportunity hold her back. She had done it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Like walking. Like breathing. Like laughing.

-…Intrusive thoughts?- Pepe was failing to hold back his smile, still with a piece of his cheek between his teeth.

-Yeah! You know, like, sometimes your brain just—just tells you to do something, and you—- she gestured with her hands—and you do it before you can stop yourself? That. That’s what happened.-

-So just to clarify… your brain told you to kiss me and you just listened?- he asked, letting himself smile fully, not touching her as he wanted to, because everything he wanted to say to her was in his eyes, and the way they were looking at each other with such ease.

-Technically, I kissed your jaw,- she smiled, leaving a hint of her dimples on her expression, as she smiled genuinely, without worrying about having the right expression or holding back.

The driver shook his head, the guitar in the background strumming their soundtrack, as it captured both of them and wouldn’t let go so easily.

-I’m onto you,- he teased, while his mind replayed the image of her cool minty lips just under his jaw, so naturally that neither of them had realized what had happened.

-Oh yeah?-

-That’s so you,- he said, looking at her, trying to imprint on his mind the image of her on the shore, the sarong low on her waist, the black swimsuit hugging her in a way her usual clothes never did, and a few strands of hair tickling her forehead.

-So… do you get a lot of intrusive thoughts about kissing me?-

I do, actually. I mean, not with pepe, obviously, but he suited the situation I had in mind so well I could not let it go. I'm desperately longing to be loved, is that reflecting in my fics?

[swordsandspectacles]

🍁 and 💫 - tell me more about Mel :D

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

For Mel, the ‘totally not a front” electronics shop winds up being a very comfortable place for her. She genuinely enjoys a bit of tinkering/coaxing things to work again, and if she can get into the work she takes pleasure in a job well done. Busy hands, quiet to work in, she’s happy enough.

She’s not really a ‘comfort corner’ sort of person, she needs a way to work out restlessness.

Outdoors, I think she doesn’t really have a ‘spot’, but she might have a collection of walking routes.

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

Ok so I did a bunch of drawings but didn’t. Actually give a fact.

So here’s a fact

My personal ‘absolute tell Mel is a re-gene’ is that she has really mechanical/neat handwriting. It’s like a weird font. She may or may not even know it’s strange.

Now what I actually wrote…

She’s in my top 3 of ‘characters with many AU variations’, I played Rebirth, did a truly appalling scribble of her, and have been revamping her in any setting which will have her ever since.

Also: canonically she has a collection of scars and piercings. I don’t remember to draw the scars in human form, but I do in various animal forms. Oops.

Here’s. Some of them

[kazuyummy]

Hi Ani! I hope you're having a great day ❤️ Can I get an apple drabble with a DNA male please? For the song, I have been obsessed with Seven by Jungkook (either version works 😂). For the genre, romance or smut works so up to you! I'm really thoughtful, caring, smart and funny. Let me know if you need more info~

YES OF COURSE YOU CAN MY LOVE <333

i would match you up CHRIS TAKIGAWA YU. it was between him and yuki tetsuya for me tbh, but something kept drawing him to me for you. i think what might differentiate them here is chris' sense of humour and perceptiveness. i think he'd really appreciate the small things you do for him and for others, and truly make you feel appreciated too! he really values that type of kindness in a relationship, as well as your warmth and ability to have fun. i can see you meeting in a casual setting - a meet-cute, through mutual friends, a school project... but hitting things off right away as friends with something else always lingering there, something more developing right around the corner!

romance under the cut! (i was gonna do smut but then i had this idea and couldn't transition it smoothly into a hookup lmao so i'll write you smut another time hehehe)

❀ A LITTLE PICK-ME-UP

you first see him when he enters the café after a morning run, sweat glistening off his biceps, broad chest breathing steadily, and a boyish smile framed by locks of chestnut hair

it is 7 in the morning and FAR too early to be horny for this man, but here you are, in front of adonis himself, taking his coffee order

you'll keep your cool though as he approaches the counter, and oh god - his voice is even better than you'd imagined

you punch in his skim latte and catch his name - chris - but can't gather the courage to say much for now - he'd probably be tired after a run, right?

but you sketch a little running stick man with wavy bangs like his, writing "you!!!" and pointing an arrow at it on his cup as he sits at a nearby table to wait

you also scribble "chris' post-run fuel" with a heart (pretty bold of you, but he seems nice and it's not like he's the only customer you write on a cup for)

he chuckles when you hand the drink to him, winking with a quick "thanks" and a god-given smile. your heart might just stop beating here and now

you're disappointed that he doesn't say much to you during the rest of his visit, but when you drop by his table, you see doodles on the receipt

there's a girl wearing a barista apron with little stars and sparkles scattered around with a mimicked "you!!!" and arrow pointing at it

he's written "chris' post-run caffeine angel" and below that... his phone number, of course

AHHHH i hope you enjoyed, chris is prob my second fave after miyuki so i really enjoyed writing this :') so the song doesn't directly tie in to the fic BUT i listened to it on repeat while writing and just kind of got this upbeat vibe from it, much different than the mv but i liked incorporating the idea of this becoming a daily routine (any day in the week hehehe) for you and chris until you get to the explicit version of the song???? ;)

anyone can request a matchup here 💫

[iggydabirdkid]

Hi hello! 🥀 for your Annie, if relevant? 💫 too, in case it's not :)

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

Pre-Heartbreak Annie would draw little stick figures crime fighting and such in the blank spaces of the pages. She'd give them each some sort of characteristic to show who they are.

Julia: Long braid

Themmy: little marks around their hands to signify acid

Chen: Big eyebrows. Angry

The entries of the journal would be anything and everything. To something neat she came across while out and about, to the escapades and shenanigans she got into with Themmy and Julia. Especially things like the Nanosurge, Catastrofiend etc.

A nice entry back then would be something like:

"Went out to eat with Themmy and Sparkles today. Insisted on going to Hoots. I think they wanted her to apologize for almost breaking my nose, even though I've told them there's no hard feelings. The woman in question made herself scarce anyways which is fine by me. I'm just here for the food and the company. Both is good, the latter even better. Never thought I'd ever have friends like this, maybe something more then friends with Julia. Hope i don't mess it up."

Post-Heartbreak Annie would still draw stick figures, though not as many, still with signifying features.

Julia: Little lighting bolts around her. Sometimes little hearts when she's feeling a particular way. Sometimes replacing the stick figures head with a mess of scribbled static when she's feeling bad.

Chen: Still the big eyebrows, though less angry. Tired looking if anything.

Daniel: Air lines to show he's flying, sometimes butterflies around his head.

Argent: Pointy teeth. Long claws.

As for what's in it? A good portion of it's contents are ramblings and half-baked thoughts of a drunken mind. Some pages are just scrawlings, some have been torn out completely.

A nice entry would be rare, but they would be there. As an example:

"I spent the day with Julia today. Had therapy early this morning and didn't feel like spending the day alone. She didn't make a big deal of it but i know she's pleased i chose to stay. We haven't hung out in years. It was... nice. I missed it."

And i did already answer. 💫. But in short. Her determination.

Thank you so much for the ask :)

[hitmenscribbles]

✨ Neon Shadows of Fate – Chapter 8: Threads of Enchantment is now available for FREE on Patreon! But at 15:00 - 16:00 CET, it will be live on AO3, FanFiction.net, and Wattpad!

📖 Sneak Peek: "The flickering neon lights hummed softly, casting shifting patterns on the walls. Harry pressed a hand against the fabric of the Vanny costume, feeling the warmth pulse beneath his fingertips. It wasn’t just fabric anymore—it was something more, something alive…"

💫 Want to read MORE? 🔥 Chapter 9 is out now for Reader+ & Reader+ Premium! 🔥 Chapter 10 drops today at 15:00 CET (Patreon & Reader+ Premium)

📚 Reader+ Premium ($10) gives you: ✔️ Full access to 20+ fanfictions (70+ chapters!) ✔️ 3 exclusive chapters daily (except weekends) ✔️ Early access 2 weeks ahead ✔️ Private chats & more!

🔗 Read for free now →

📖✨ Let the magic of Neon Shadows of Fate pull you in… 🌙

#Fanfiction #NeonShadowsOfFate #Fantasy #AO3 #Wattpad #ReaderPlusPremium

[squids-and-waffles7]

STRINGBEAN!! ❤️💫✨

[ ID: A digital illustration of Luz Noceda and her palisman Stringbean from The Owl House. Luz is to the bottom right, smiling, while she floats with one hand pointed up towards the left and the other at her side. She is in her Halloween costume as seen in For the Future, with an added patch of the bi flag sewn on near her green waist bag. Her one hand that is up is right below Stringbean’s tail, who is to the top left of image. They are also floating, smiling and looking at Luz. The background is a space-like design with scribbled on stars in the corners. End ID. ]

[seokmins]

Brewing Love — LSM

The clumsy, newly hired barista honestly sucks at his job. But there's actually a good reason why he's either breaking the coffee machine or forgetting recipes?

【ˢⱽᵀ ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ || ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳᵖᵒˢᵗ】

💞 🄿🄰🄸🅁🄸🄽🄶: Lee Seokmin x reader 📚 🄶🄴🄽🅁🄴: Fluff, Very teeny tiny angst, Coffee Shop/Barista!au 🌟 🅁🄰🅃🄸🄽🄶: G  💬 ⓌⒸ: 4.8k ⚠️ 🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: Food/Non-alcoholic beverages, Reader has anger issues tbh lol, Not much really lmk if I need to add anything — I really tried to make it gn! as possible so I hope I didn't miss anything :D

💫(っ  ◔◡◔)っɛƖ۷'ʂ ŋơɬɛʂ 💕:

requested by the darling miss @chogiwapadada for what I presume is in celebration of 1k on this blog 😏 I don't know if this was a request truly meant for you lmao I think you sent it bc you know it would torture me fjskdf but I finally got it done... anyways, mwah this video lives in my head rent-free thx bestie wife I hope you enjoy it 💖☕

It's just like your brother to leave you to fend for yourself. 

You had made Joshua swear up and down to you in person that he would never leave the quaint coffee shop he'd opened last year near the local campus unattended and unsupervised. You'd collected written assurance that he would give you fair warning if he needed your assistance. All you'd asked was at least a week's notice. You were a busy person!

Seungkwan would never let Joshua do you dirty like this. But your best friend was in Jeju now, as he always was during this time of year to see family. Meaning there would be no one to operate the coffee shop during its busiest season, the second month of the fall semester.

Joshua knew this. Seungkwan's been the 'best' to your 'friend' for decades. 

One to two people was enough to keep disgruntled students and surly professors semi-satisfied with their daily (or hourly) orders of much-needed caffeine. Joshua was always in the back, filling in between Seungkwan's generous shift hours or whenever it got busy — or at least that's where he was supposed to be.

Right now, Joshua must be enjoying himself on the white sands of some remote beach. Watching the sun sparkle across aqua blue waves as the tide rushes in to kiss his toes, sea breeze whipping back the black locks of his hair, one arm wrapped snugly around the shoulders of his partner. 

You're happy for him. Truly. You did not want him to feel any bad vibes on his special vacation.

Still — that didn't eliminate the fact that you hoped he would stub his toe on a rock as you glare at his sloppy, scribbled signature on the written agreement that ended up doing you no good. 

You're well aware that he and his significant other had decided on a small, private wedding. You were the one who happily lent your assistance in helping them prepare it. The celebration was quiet and tiny in contrast to the radiant display of love and affection they had toward one another. A reason why they had been debating on whether or not they would go somewhere extravagant instead for their honeymoon. 

You slam a glass a little too harshly on the counter. Of course, you'd advocated that they should! Duh! You just didn't think Joshua would send a lame text message, having already booked a flight and halfway out of the country by the time you read it in the morning. That was Joshua's escape mechanism to avoid the wrath of your anger as you scrambled to get to the coffee shop and open it before the regulars in a more foul mood than you decided to riot.

Smart and stupid.

AKA Joshua Hong, your beloved brother.

The door to the storage room bangs open and you hear a worried gasp of your name before two hands are wrapping around your own, trying to gently pry your fingers from around the glass. You let out an angry huff of air that causes your hair to fly up but release the death grip on the glass and let yourself be fussed over.

"I thought you had broken something!"

"What, like you do?"

It's fascinating to watch the blush creep up along Seokmin's neck to his ears and finally color the roundness of his cheeks. The soft trace of his fingers over yours intently checking for any signs of injury is equally as heartwarming as him trying to defend himself.

"That… that was… an accident."

You raise an eyebrow. "Are you saying I was trying to break something on purpose?"

"N-no! I was just worried you might've hurt yourself."

"I'm fine and so is this glass. Now get back to what you were doing, our afternoon rush will be hitting soon."

Like a scolded puppy, you can practically see figurative dog ears drooping as Seokmin hunches his broad shoulders and slinks back to the storage room. Despite being thousands of miles away, Seungkwan pulled through with helpful information that he knew someone who was looking for a part-time job. Of course, your best friend who was a reliable worker fully understood additional assistance was needed during the month and a half that Joshua was gone. Unfortunately, he had underestimated just how clumsy Seokmin was.

Although he was sweet and ready to learn immediately upon being hired, you swear it only added more work to your plate to train him. It also didn't help that his charming good looks caused an influx of customers to flock to the shop, very unsubtly to steal glances and shoot their shots with the new barista. Even you could admit that watching Seokmin's arms flex as he operated the large coffee machines, the bright sparkle in his eyes that matched his brilliant smile, and his shy but endearing nature were all very healing for the soul.

But you were also a witness to the horrifying scene of him almost breaking the great coffee contraption that cost nearly triple the amount that students paid for tuition at the campus. If you had been a cat, all your fur would've been poofed out when you hissed in shock at the unnaturally loud clank that echoed over the calm background music when he'd pushed down a lever too hard.

The future flashed before your eyes at that moment. 

A furious, caffeine-deprived mob banging outside your door. Seungkwan complaining about his puffy face after crying for weeks. A perplexed Joshua divorced merely a month after marriage because now he's swimming in debt. Loan sharks dirtying your name and preventing you from ever getting a new job to pay for repairs and all other extraneous bills. You and Joshua are homeless, branded as criminals on the run.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic. 

But you've poured a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and money into this place and that darn machine — none of which you technically even own. It's your brother's pride and joy just as much as it became yours, a comforting place to visit on your days off that you are more than happy to assist when it all comes down to it.

Even now, you're eyeing Seokmin suspiciously as he very gently lowers the lever to start the process and shoots you a sheepish smile. Everything turned out alright in the end. But you had to spend an extra two hours last week examining the components closely with your new hire cringing but giving you pouty, pleading gazes in the hopes that you wouldn't fire him on the spot.

Of course, you didn't. You even brewed him your signature blend to ensure that the machine was operating as it should and as additional compensation for the extra time he stayed. Plus, you needed his help. Whether you liked him or not.

You did like him, though.

"Um, can you help me finish this latte?" 

You jump. Lost in your thoughts, you're unaware of Seokmin's sudden presence as he whispers in your ear, minty breath warm as it fans against the side of your face.

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

Even though he did things like this, yes. You somehow still really did like Seokmin.

He's good at acting oblivious to the curious, questioning stares of the customers waiting at the counter and you do your best to ignore them as well. Peeking over his shoulder, you talk him through it as your nervous system relaxes because of the refreshing scent that surrounds him. 

You don't know how to describe it but Seokmin smells like sunshine. Maybe because he is the sun itself.

"And you know what's next?"

"Wait, don't tell me." His eyebrows scrunch as he closes his eyes in thought, mumbling what he's already done to remind himself. 

"You've added almost all of the ingredients."

"Right. Cinnamon, vanilla extract, syrup… the coffee of course. Uh…"

"Milk."

"Yes," he puts down a finger as he counts, "the milk… Oh! The milk!" Smacking his forehead lightly, he grabs one of the containers that he'd frothed a portion of the milk in earlier. "Duh, how could I forget that again?"

"You're doing better each time."

You're taken aback when you pat him encouragingly and he turns, not even flinching at how close his face is to yours. "All thanks to you."

You blanch at his sparkly, grateful eyes and quickly shuffle to the counter. The woman waiting for her order is giggling as you approach and you choose to ignore it.

"Would you like whipped cream?"

"I do like sweet things," she slyly says and takes it from your grasp, laser-focused on the man behind you. "Care to top me off, Sugar?"

You follow her expectant gaze only to find Seokmin not even paying attention. His back is turned and he's humming happily to himself as he cleans up the used utensils and straightens the dishes. 

"Um… excuse me, darling?"

"I think she wants whipped cream," you say. Or something… someone… else runs across your mind only to blink when the tube is dangled in front of your face. "Huh?"

"Said you needed it, right?" Seokmin waves it back and forth until you take it from him and goes right back to what he was doing with a bounce in his step. "Let me know if I can grab anything else for you!"

The woman is boring holes into the side of your head as you stare at his back flabbergasted for a few seconds before snapping out of it. Meeting her narrowed eyes, you put on your best customer service smile and squeeze the whipped cream dispenser to top off her latte. 

"Could I get you anythi — "

"Hah! No. Thank. You."

She flounces out as if she's a damaged diva not even waiting for you to finish and you shrug, wiping up the wasted drops of liquid heavy cream. Losing a customer who has a bad attitude is no skin off your back.

"What was her issue? She was kinda rude."

"And here I thought you weren't paying attention."

"Of course I was. She asked for whipped cream, she got whipped cream. No reason to cut you off like that when she got what she wanted."

"But she didn't."

"What?"

You turn around with a knowing smirk and lean against the counter when Seokmin tilts his head in confusion. "She didn't get your attention."

He rolls his eyes. "That's ridiculous."

"Are you single?"

"Uh… wh-why do you ask?"

It's amusing how his demeanor changes so quickly, once again flustered after being snarky for merely two seconds. 

"Sorry, I'm not trying to pry. You don't have to tell me, what I mean is that, if you are single it's okay if you wish to spark a connection with a customer. Nobody's going to fire you for that, we're chill about it. That's how my brother met his partner after all."

"I… I don't — "

"I'm not saying you have to, like if you already have someone special you're also free to invite them over if you want 'cause you know Kwannie does that all — "

"I'm single!"

You blink at his abrupt outburst. "Okay. I wanted to make sure you're comfortable here. As long as you don't break my coffee machine, you can do what you want."

"I just," he runs a hand through his hair, "it's… it's nothing you have to worry about." 

Seokmin looks so devastatingly serious — almost upset — that your body moves before you realize it, playfully dispensing a dollop of whipped cream on the tip of his nose. It's comical how his eyes cross in confusion to stare at it in utter astonishment that you can't help but let out a tiny snort. 

He recovers from the shock faster than you think. Thumb scooping the cream off with lightning speed before he cradles your cheek and chin, smearing it across your bottom lip with a gentle swipe.

You've heard detailed stories from your friends, and even sickenly from your brother, about the legendary sparks that fly in moments with someone you deem special. But no one ever talks about the absolute stillness. How everything seems to fade away and it feels like it's just you and Seokmin in the world. In that moment.

Staring into his warm, dark-brown eyes that hold galaxies. Holding your breath when his gaze drifts down to watch how your tongue pokes out to lick up a tiny bit of the whipped cream. Right where his thumb hovers above your lips. How his eyes dart back up to yours, leaning in just a smidgeon before the sound of someone irritably clearing their throat shatters the spell.

"How quaint." 

You leap away from Seokmin's grasp, scowling at the new arrival who lazily adjusts his barely-tied tie, only causing it to look messier. Yet, it somehow makes the local populace drool over him even more.

"Yoon Jeonghan."

He laughs at the way you hiss his name, unfazed by your venomous tone. "That's now Professor Yoon to you, sweetcheeks."

"Gross. I doubt any students can take you seriously."

"Does Shua know his sibling isn't looking after the shop and customers but flirt — "

"Josh knows his place is well taken care of because I'm here, isn't that why you told him to take off?" You interrupt with a pointed tone, raising your eyebrows. "What do you want, the usual?"

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. "You're acting like their elopement was my idea."

"And it wasn't? Can't fool me, Mr. Yoon."

"Not always. But I'm not lying, it really wasn't me. You know Joshua is much more mischievous than he lets on."

"Yeah, tell me about it. He's had a bad influence ever since he was young."

"Ouch. Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?"

The cardboard coffee container is nearly crushed by your grip as you hand it to him. "If your conscience stings you must be feeling guilty, unlike me."

You hear a snort off to your side and side-eye where Seokmin is trying to hold back his laughter at the bantering while he fusses with another recipe. His cheeks are still flushed, ears adorably tinged red and you bite your lip.

"Ahem. Sometime today, preferably."

Jeonghan's additional cough snaps you out of your trance, glaring at your brother's best friend as if you weren't caught red-handed. Again.

"Here. Your order."

He delicately picks up the cup, a stark contrast to your aggressive movements. "Thank you, my dear barista. A one out of ten experience as usual."

If you could, you'd flip him off as he turns his back to leave like you normally do. But 'professional' times call for 'professional' behavior and you've already made a fool of yourself enough today. 

"Go ahead and post your opinion online as promised! Then you'll see how irrelevant it really is!"

That doesn't stop you from having the last word when the bell jingles and Jeonghan graciously responds with a middle finger once he's fully stepped out the door. A sigh of irritation escapes and you tap your nails irritably on top of the counter. Maybe you can speak to your friend Seungcheol in administration and find out how in the world that menace managed to get employed.

You don't actually dislike your brother's best friend. He just grates on every single one of the few nerves you have left.

Seokmin sidles up to you. "Hey, do you have some time tonight?"

"Why? Want to go over some more things?"

"That would be nice, yeah."

"Sure." You shrug in agreement. It's not like you had any big plans. "Let's see if we can survive through this mob first, though. Seems like classes have let out for common hour — oh, wait!"

He freezes, wide-eyed. It's your turn to grasp his sharp jawline in one hand, bringing his face closer to yours. Ignoring the way he nervously licks his lips and how his eyelashes flutter as he rapidly blinks, you take a napkin and wipe the sticky remnants of white still left on his nose.

"Sorry," you murmur, "you had… there was just… a little… "

"Thank you." Seokmin's hand covers yours pressed against his cheek before you can move away. You're forced to meet his gaze head-on, unable to look anywhere else. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"O-of c-course!" You curse yourself for stuttering like an idiot. "I m-mean I have to take care of you, what kind of person do you think I am?"

It's Seokmin's turn to take the first step back but he does it with a calmness that almost seems calculated if it weren't for his embarrassed giggle that sounds abnormal being two pitches higher than usual. Shamelessly he winks at you, pretending like the heat that's been burning in his cheeks hasn't spread down to even his arms.

"A very sweet one."

You try to hide your shy smile behind a frown, sarcasm, and the chatter of customers coming in. "Well, duh!"

Time flies when the coffee shop is bustling. The lines do not let up and somehow, Seokmin helps keep up decently without any terrible disasters befalling. Just as the sun begins to sink below the horizon and cast off the distinct glow of golden hour rays, you happily flip the 'closed' sign to display on the door. 

Stretching, the feelings of relief at the end of the day are briefly interrupted by Jeonghan walking by on his way home and you rightfully get your vindication. Two middle fingers and a big grin. Gestures he doesn't fail to kindly return.

Your neck prickles and warms slightly when you go back inside and find Seokmin grinning at you as he leans on the counter, forearms nicely on display. The frothy glass placed between them allows you to ogle his arms without it being too obvious.

"You like it, huh?"

"Huh? Like what?"

"Messing with Jeonghan." A playful smile is on his lips, almost a smirk like he knows. 

"Well, yeah. We've known each other since we've been in diapers so it's easy to give him crap."

"Ever had a crush on him?"

You put your hands on your hips. "What's this? Revenge for earlier?"

"Depends on what you're referring to." His eyes sparkle. "And maybe your answer."

"Why does this feel like a test?"

"Maybe it is."

"You're a piece of work!" You exclaim, eyebrows twitching at the next words that come out of his mouth. 

"As much work as Jeonghan?"

"No, Hannie's something else, for sure. Now, you… you're just… I don't know… difficult." 

"You wound me, you really do." Seokmin shakes his head with a smile. "All I did was ask a simple question but it seems like getting to the answer's more difficult than I am."

"What do you get out of knowing?"

"I don't know… wingman privileges?"

You choke on air. "Are you trying to set us up?"

"If that's what you want. Your answer, then?"

"No, thank you," you say emphatically with your entire chest and he beams.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He gestures to one of the tables and you take a seat with a huff.

"You know I could cut your pay out of spite."

"Yeah, but you're not going to."

"You're right, as long as this drink isn't poisoned." You stare dubiously at the beverage placed in front of you and he whines.

"The last one wasn't that bad!"

"No, but… it wasn't good either. Oh? What's this?" 

Tonight, it's not just a drink Seokmin has whipped up. A pretty little fruit cake on a plate is accompanied by it and you poke it questioningly with the fork he also hands to you. 

"I made it."

"You did?" You eye it and poke it again. "Well, it's awfully squishy for something made out of plastic."

He whines again, this time your name. "I'm serious! Just try it."

You relent, of course. You've already established the terms ahead of time in case you get sick from something he's made. Not that you have, but it's always good to be prepared for the worst case scenario.

Gingerly, you take a tiny bite. Eyes unwittingly lighting up in enjoyment at the taste of one of your favorite sweets and the way the fluffy dessert melts on your tongue. Absolutely deli —

"It's good, isn't it?"

"Just say you bought it."

"Wha — ?"

"You can't fool me. Clearly this cake is store bought."

"I… " Seokmin tilts his head. "Okay, you got me… you enjoyed it though, right?"

"It's a very appreciated treat, thank you. Where did you buy it?"

"Um, got it from a local bakery. I think they just opened so I'm glad it tasted good."

"Oh, nearby?"

He twiddles with his thumbs. "Uh, p-perhaps I can take you…?"

It is at this moment you heavily weigh your options in a decision-making split second. Grabbing the drink you haven't touched yet, you gather up the confidence you didn't even know you could summon around him.

"A date?"

Seokmin's entire body twitches as he mildly chokes on his saliva. His downturned gaze shoots up to meet yours before returning to the very, incredibly, interesting mark on the table.

"Um…"

"Is it? Are you asking me on a date?"

"W-would you… g-go with me? I mean t-to the place."

You raise your glass in his direction, a smile growing on your lips. "I would like to meet the professional baker who made this cake… "

He bites his lip. "Are you teasing me?"

"Not necessarily."

"Then?"

"If your drink concoctions meet my expectations, then we can go… on a date?"

The poor man looks like he might die on the spot. "You're definitely making fun of me."

"Am not." Even with your mischievous banter, the answer is clear when you slightly grimace after taking a sip. "Why does this taste a bit off?"

"I don't know…"

"I think you added too much syrup. Did you remember to divide it evenly?"

He shrugs. "I think so?"

Sighing, you stand up and gesture for him to follow you around back. "Let's go over the basics again. I can't believe you're still so bad at this."

"Maybe I don't have a good teacher." Seokmin's hands fly up in defense when you whirl around. "I'm kind of over here struggling to wrap my head around if you're asking me out or if you're tricking me into thinking I asked you out."

"Use that lovely brain power of yours to retain the correct measurements this time to succeed. If you want to go on a date, that is."

"I'll do my best."

Seokmin's grand declaration is encouraging but every single fancy drink he prepares for you flops and you're starting to consider that maybe this was his subtle way to reject the date offer. You're mildly insulted, to say the least. But in all honesty, you don't have time to dwell on it, let alone even have time for one anyways.

It's a relief when Seungkwan returns, granting you some well-deserved days off to return to your normal routine. By the time you've finally caught up with things and find time to drop by the coffee shop again, it's been a little over a week. Joshua's flight landed the night before as well, meaning your dashing brother would be well within choking range soon.

Your best friend greets you at the front with a tight hug and large bag of souvenirs as promised. You ask him about his visit and he chats animatedly about the rest of the Boo family he hasn't seen since last year.

"You know I was worried that you didn't get any rest before coming to work but it seems like things are going smoothly."

The atmosphere is peaceful and quiet, the midday lull leaving the shop empty and Seugnkwan's as bubbly as ever. In fact, he rolls his eyes at you and clicks his tongue. 

"I got a ton of rest, silly. And Seok's a great help."

"Yeah, he's not too bad. I just feel bad that you have to manage everything as soon as you got back."

"Aw, you gotta chill out, bestie. Seriously, we have a pro on our hands."

"I know you're more than capable — "

"Not me, I'm talking about Seokmin obviously!"

"What?"

Seungkwan babbles on while you're left flabbergasted. "You know it's incredible, really. He's already whipped up a whole bunch of new drinks and now that we're going to be adding pastries to the menu, he wants to kickstart them by launching a holiday theme! Something fruity because — "

"Whoa, whoa… what are you even ta — "

"Spilling all of my trade secrets already, Kwan?"

You turn around at the voice but you're not even focused on the man speaking who's suddenly shrouded in mystery but glaring daggers at the one with his arm wrapped around Seokmin's shoulders. 

"Joshua Hong!"

"Behold!" Your brother raises his tanned arms to the ceiling. "We have acquired brand new bold and raw talent!"

"Don't think I won't kick your butt because there are people around!"

"Lovely to see you too, dear!"

Seungkwan rushes to hold you back when you take a threatening step towards his boss. "I understand your feelings but can we please call a truce for now!"

"I demand an explanation."

"Of course," Joshua nods, "you have my eternal gratification for various reasons but especially because you convinced the Lee Seokmin to come to the dark side."

"You know I want to hear about something else so what are you talking about, Kwannie picked him? And the 'dark side'? This isn't a cult!"

"Well, yeah but it wasn't until he found out that you — "

Seokmin interrupts Joshua with a hacking fit causing the two other men to look at him in concern. Your eyebrow twitches.

"Clearly there are many things going on that I don't understand." Whether it was intentional or not, you didn't like it.

"It's not like that, it's just — "

"Seokmin's the son of the family that owns that famous bakery in town," Seungkwan supplies helpfully, the only one with a tiny bit of common sense. "He's been scouted by tons of places since he decided to start out on his own but he's agreed to set up shop here."

Your mouth drops at this new information. "What?"

Joshua's arms wrap around the younger man's shoulders again. "Isn't this exciting? It's going to bolster our sales so much!"

When your eyes meet Seokmin's, he winces. "I wasn't trying to hide anyth — "

"If you didn't want to go on a date so bad, you could've just told me."

It slips out of your mouth before you can even think and everyone, including yourself, freezes. Realizing what you said, you swear under your breath, getting ready to bolt away from the scene immediately. But as usual, Seokmin's one step faster. He gently grabs your wrist, spinning you to face him again.

"I swear it was nothing like that! I…. I ended up delaying things because I was nervous."

"Why? There was — well, at least I thought — there was… I don't know… something between us?" Your other hand covers your face. "I can't believe you're making me say this in front of my brother and friend!"

He sucks in a harsh breath. "How do you think I feel? And I'm sorry, I didn't… I was just being stupid. I wanted to… liked spending more time with you but I was unsure of what Joshua might think of me."

"He could give two rats less about a single thing."

"True dat," your brother chimes in.

"You see how he runs this coffee shop… or rather the lack of. No responsibility."

"Hey!"

While Seungkwan hushes your brother, Seokmin takes both of your hands in his. "I'm sorry. Really. C-can I please make it up to you? Maybe o-over some cake and coffee? I'll explain whatever you want."

You chew on your lip, the warmth of his grip and pleading gaze causing you to rock back and forth on your heels. "Are you asking me on a date, Lee Seokmin?"

He catches onto your teasing tone and squeezes your hands. "If you'd be okay with that…"

—

Seokmin still is bad at making drinks. Even if he's improved and follows the recipe correctly, they still taste awfully bland. Neither you nor Joshua nor Seungkwan can figure it out but it's okay because that's where you come in. His grandiose ideas are brewed into fruition by your very own talents and that's why you stick around. 

Or perhaps the delicious little desserts and pastries prettily displayed on the counter are another motivation. Definitely getting to test-taste every single one before it's put on the menu is certainly a bonus. 

And maybe… just maybe… It's the smiley man whose kindness is baked into each one of the tasty treats that becomes the real reason you stop by every day. Just like how everybody comes for their daily fix of caffeine, you cannot go without your daily fix of love from and for your very own Lee Seokmin.

dokyeomblr September 2022: Brewing Love ©