#and mixed with the good old coffee shop AU

[buckets-and-trees]

I love bed Chem and the follow up!! I’d love to see them bump into each other outside of hook up times - like they’re both in the same coffee shop…and a cute barista is flirting with reader…and Bucky suddenly feels possessive when he sees it happening from across the shop but can’t say anything as they’re just hook up buds and it’s not his place to be jealous 🤭

Even Better Than In My Head

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Millennial female!reader Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Hooking up with Bucky Barnes in the middle of the night has scratched the itch whenever you're craving between your legs, but crossing paths with the man out in the wild in normal life? Much more dangerous than you could have guessed.

Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture/bootycall, established sexual relationship

Author Notes: This is a follow-up to Parking Lot Chem and Camaraderie.

Logistical Notes: My first fill for @buckyboybingo (Gym) and my ninth bit for Valentine Storygrams!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“This entire table is a masterpiece!” your sister exclaims, thoroughly impressed and overjoyed. “I seriously owe you!”

“You do!” you chide. “You owe me many, many favors.”

“I’d promise my first-born, but that ship has already sailed!” she replies, gesturing at her daughter - your niece - who is currently engaged in some sort of statue tag game with a gaggle of other children her age.

“I’m serious, though. You know you absolutely saved me.”

"I know," you say, waving off her gratitude with a smile. "That's what sisters are for, right?"

You both turn to survey the booth, a riot of pink and red decorations adorning every surface. Heart-shaped cookies, cupcakes with swirling frosting rosettes, raspberry-lemon bars, and delicate palmiers drizzled with white chocolate and heart-shaped sprinkles cover the table in neat, enticing rows.

"Seriously, though," your sister continues, lowering her voice, "this could make or break my campaign for PTA president. The entire board is here, and they're all watching to see how this goes."

You nod, remembering the frantic phone call you'd received two nights ago.

Your sister's voice had been a mix of panic and exhaustion as she explained how her usually angelic toddler had decided to test out his superhero abilities by leaping off the kitchen counter. The result? A nasty gash that required a trip to urgent care and several stitches. But to make matters worse, she’d only been so distracted to allow the failed test-flight of her two-year-old because she’d been trying to figure out why her oven would turn on, but refused to heat up past 180 degrees - nowhere near close enough to take care of her baking needs.

So you agreed - or offered, you really don’t quite remember how this part of the conversation went at this point - to take care of making all the baked goods.

“Couldn't let my favorite sister crash and burn at the Valentine's Day bake sale, could I?"

"I'm your only sister, you goof," she retorts with a laugh. "But again, thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you."

As you're about to respond, your sister's eyes suddenly widen, and a sly grin spreads across her face. She leans in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of paying you back, I think I'm about to start right now."

You follow her gaze across the crowded gymnasium, your curiosity piqued. Through the sea of parents and children, a tall figure is making his way towards your booth. As he draws closer, you can't help but notice how he seems to part the crowd effortlessly, his presence commanding yet somehow warm.

"See that absolutely gorgeous man heading our way?" your sister murmurs, her excitement palpable. "That's Aiden Hartley. He's a single dad, a widower, and practically the perfect gentleman."

You try to maintain your composure as Aiden approaches, but it's difficult not to stare. He's easily over six feet with a build that suggests he's no stranger to the gym. His short blonde hair catches the light, looking almost golden under the fluorescent glare of the school's overhead lighting. Even from a distance, you can see his eyes - a striking shade of green that reminds you of summer leaves.

As Aiden reaches your booth, a warm smile spreads across his face. Your heart skips a beat.

"Ladies," he greets you both, his voice deep and smooth. "I have to say, this spread looks absolutely incredible."

Your sister jumps in, "Oh, it's all thanks to my amazing sister here! Aiden, you haven’t met her yet, but she's the baking genius."

Aiden's gaze returns to you, a spark of interest in those mesmerizing green eyes. "Is that so? Well, I'm thoroughly impressed. I'm Carter’s dad, by the way, he’s in the same class as your niece." He extends his hand.

You introduce yourself, hoping your palm isn't too sweaty as you shake his hand. His grip is firm but gentle, and you can't help but notice how your hand seems to fit very nicely into his.

"So, what would you recommend?" Aiden asks, gesturing to the array of sweets.

“I’d like one of the cupcakes,” the last voice you’re expecting to hear interrupts from just behind you, and you whip around to find yourself face to face with Bucky, the man who has been regularly - if intermittently - wrecking you sexually.

What on earth is he doing here?

Not only is he here, he’s looking devastatingly handsome in a dark blue button-down and jeans. Your breath catches in your throat as memories of your late-night encounter flood your mind.

"One of the chocolate ones," Bucky drawls, his eyes roaming over the baked goods before settling on you with a heated gaze. "Is that a strawberry buttercream on top?"

“Mhmm,” you manage to nod, throat completely dry, brain trying to figure out how to function.

You’re not supposed to be seeing this man in the light of day - does not compute, does not compute.

"Looks like someone's been busy in the kitchen," he adds.

Your sister, oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Bucky, beams at him. "Yes! Isn't it amazing? My sister made everything here."

Bucky's lips curl into a smirk. "Is that so? You’re clearly skilled with your hands - the piping on this frosting is flawless,” he says, handing cash to your sister in exchange for one of the cupcakes.

He brings the treat to his nose, inhaling deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. "Smells divine," he murmurs, voice low enough that only you can hear. Then, with a wink that makes your knees weak, he turns and strides away, weaving through the crowd with the same effortless grace that brought him to your booth. His confident stride draws more than a few appreciative glances from the other parents.

Your sister nudges you with her elbow, breaking you out of your daze. "See, I told you you're too modest with your baking skills," she whispers excitedly. "Bucky Barnes is usually a man of few words, and he dropped plenty just now."

You nod absently, still reeling from Bucky's sudden appearance and the way he'd looked at you. Your mind races, trying to process the conflicting emotions swirling within you. On one hand, there's the familiar spark of desire that Bucky always ignites. On the other, there's a new, tentative flutter of interest as you glance back at Aiden, who's patiently waiting with a warm smile.

Your sister, ever the matchmaker, seamlessly steers the conversation back to Aiden. "So, Aiden, you were asking about recommendations?" She gives you a subtle but pointed look.

You clear your throat. "Right. Well, the raspberry-lemon bars are a personal favorite. They've got just the right balance of sweet and tart."

Aiden's eyes light up. "That sounds perfect. I'll take two, please." As your sister boxes up his order, he turns back to you. "So, do you bake professionally? These look like they could be in a high-end bakery."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh no, it's just a hobby. I work in marketing, actually."

"Well, you certainly have a talent for it," Aiden says, his smile warm and genuine. "I can’t wait to try these,” he adds, holding up his box.

As you're about to respond to Aiden's compliment, your sister suddenly gasps and slaps her forehead dramatically. "Oh no! I completely forgot!" She turns to you with an exaggerated look of distress. "The PTA was supposed to set up the face-painting station, but I just realized we left all the supplies in my car!"

You raise an eyebrow, sensing the poorly disguised matchmaking attempt, but play along. "Oh, that's not good. You'd better go take care of that."

Your sister nods vigorously, already backing away from the booth. "Absolutely! Can't have disappointed kids on Valentine's Day!" She pauses, then turns to Aiden with a look of calculated innocence. "Aiden, I hate to impose, but would you mind helping my sister man the booth until I get back? It shouldn't take more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”

Aiden’s eyes flash to you, gleaming with amusement, clearly recognizing your sister's ploy for what it is, but he plays along anyway. "Of course! I'd be more than happy to lend a hand... or take an order or two," he jokes, winking at you.

Your cheeks flush a with heat, but you’re not totally unhappy with her shenanigans.

Your sister rushes off and Aiden takes her place behind the table. As the two of you settle into a rhythm working the table, you can't help but feel a spark of connection. His easy smile and warm demeanor put you at ease, and soon you're chatting effortlessly about everything from your shared love of books to your favorite local restaurants.

"So, marketing, huh?" Aiden asks during a lull. "What kind of projects do you work on?"

You launch into a brief explanation of your latest campaign, surprised at how easily the conversation flows. Aiden listens attentively, asking insightful questions that show he's genuinely interested. His green eyes sparkle with intelligence, and you find yourself drawn in by his charm.

"That sounds fascinating," he says, leaning in slightly. "I'd love to hear more about it sometime. Maybe over coffee?"

Your heart flutters at the invitation, but before you can respond, your eyes are inexplicably drawn across the crowded gymnasium. Through the sea of parents and children, you spot Bucky leaning against the far wall.

He's standing slightly apart from the crowd, his presence both magnetic and aloof. The sleeves of his dark blue plaid shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. His hair, usually disheveled when you see him, is neatly combed back into a bun, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw.

As if sensing your gaze, Bucky's eyes lock with yours from across the room. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face as he brings the cupcake to his lips. You watch, transfixed, as he takes a deliberate bite, his eyes never leaving yours.

The chocolate cake yields easily, and a smear of pink frosting clings to his upper lip. Your mouth goes dry as you watch his tongue dart out, slowly and purposefully licking away the sweet confection.

The sight sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire low in your belly. Memories of that same tongue exploring your most intimate places flood your mind. You can almost feel the ghost of it and press your legs together.

Suddenly aware that you've been staring, you snap your attention back to Aiden, who's looking at you expectantly. You realize he's still waiting for an answer about coffee.

"Oh, um, yes," you stammer, trying to regain your composure. "Coffee sounds great."

Aiden's face lights up with a warm smile. "Wonderful! How about this Saturday?"

You nod, pushing thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind. "Saturday works for me."

As you exchange numbers with Aiden, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and guilt. Excitement at the prospect of getting to know this kind, handsome man better. Guilt because you know that no matter how charming Aiden is, a part of you is still thinking about Bucky and the raw, primal energy between you.

About how he probably would have no problem dragging you away to his car and fucking you in the parking lot right now.

You think that’s something Aiden would never do .

The rest of the bake sale passes in good conversation with Aiden, chatting between customers and stealing glances at each other when you think the other isn't looking. You learn that he's an architect, specializing in sustainable design, and his passion for his work is evident in the way his eyes light up as he describes his latest project.

"It's a community center," he explains, his hands moving animatedly as he speaks. "We're incorporating solar panels, rainwater harvesting systems, and even a rooftop garden. The goal is to create a space that not only serves the community but also educates them about sustainable living."

You find yourself genuinely interested, asking questions about the design process and the challenges he faces. As you listen, you can't help but appreciate how different this interaction is from your usual encounters with Bucky. With Aiden, there's a warmth, a sense of connection that’s so natural.

But your gaze drifts regularly to Bucky. Bucky has become attached to a young boy who looks to be about six years old. The resemblance between them is striking – the same strong jawline, the same chestnut brown hair. They grin and laugh together, Bucky follows him around to the face painting, a craft station, poses with him in the photo booth.

All you have ever shared with Bucky is sex. The two of you had given next to no time to small talk even in the first few days of messaging on the hook up app and in your first meet up. You had both made it clear you used each other for sex and didn’t want anything else from the connection.

As the bake sale winds down, your sister finally returns, apologizing profusely for needing to cover the face painting instead of helping at the booth. She winks at you when Aiden isn't looking, clearly pleased with her efforts. Aiden continues to linger, helping to fold up the tablecloth and carry boxes.

This morning you were thoroughly single, no need or with to do much to be otherwise. But now you find yourself torn between two very different men. Aiden, with his warm smile and gentle demeanor, represents the possibility of a genuine connection, of building something meaningful. Your conversation flows easily, and you can't deny the flutter in your chest when he laughs at your jokes.

But then there's Bucky. Your attention drawn back to him over and over, watching as he had interacted with the young boy who must be his son. It's a side of him you've never seen before, and it stirs something unexpected within you. The tenderness in his eyes as he looks at his child is a stark contrast to the raw intensity you're used to seeing when he looks at you.

As you and Aiden start packing up the remaining baked goods, Bucky approaches your booth once more. This time, the little boy is with him, clinging to his hand and looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.

"Hey," Bucky says, his voice smooth and charming. "We wanted to grab a few more treats before you packed up." His eyes flick to Aiden, then back to you, a flash of something - possessiveness? jealousy? - passing over his face.

"Of course," you manage, brightening your voice as you direct your attention to the small boy. "What would you like?"

The little boy tugs on Bucky's hand, pointing at the heart-shaped cookies. "Can I have those, Daddy?"

Your heart does a little flip at hearing Bucky called 'Daddy'. It's such a stark contrast to the Bucky you know - the one who whispers filthy things in your ear as he pounds into you.

"Sure thing, buddy. How about we get a few to take home for later?" Bucky suggests, his voice gentle as he speaks to his son.

You can't help but smile at the interaction as you carefully package up a half dozen of the heart-shaped cookies. As you hand the box to Bucky, your fingers brush against his, sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. His eyes lock with yours, dark and intense, before he glances meaningfully at Aiden.

"Thanks," Bucky says, his voice low. "These look delicious. I'm sure they taste even better than they look." The double meaning in his words is clear, and you feel a flush creeping up your neck.

"I hope you enjoy them," you manage to reply, your voice slightly breathless.

As Bucky turns to leave, his son looks up at you with a shy smile. "Thank you for the treats!”

"You're very welcome, young man," you reply, smiling warmly at the little boy. As they walk away, you can't help but watch Bucky's retreating form, admiring the way his shirt clings to his broad shoulders.

You and Aiden finish packing up the last of the baked goods, and he helps you carry the boxes to your car.

"So, about Saturday," he says as you close the trunk. "There's this great little café downtown that does this stuffed french toast that will send you to heaven. How does that sound?”

You smile at Aiden, genuinely excited about the prospect of getting to know him better. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "I love a good french toast."

As you exchange details for your upcoming date, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and guilt. Aiden is everything you should want - kind, intelligent, and clearly interested in more than just a physical relationship. Yet, as you watch him walk away, your mind drifts back to Bucky.

Later that night, as you're getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes with a text. Your heart races as you see Bucky's name on the screen.

BUCKY: Those cookies were delicious. But not as sweet as your cunt.

You bite your lip, torn between responding and ignoring the message. Before you can decide, another text comes through.

BUCKY: I'm in the neighborhood. Have any of that frosting left?

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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[honeyedmiller]

Mr. Bakery Man

baker!joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.

warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍

Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades. 

Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested. 

You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming. 

The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin. 

One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work. 

And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life. 

You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s. 

The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to. 

You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth. 

The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order. 

“Hey Randy, how’s it going?” 

“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!” 

After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register. 

“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light. 

“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.” 

She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it. 

“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup. 

You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.” 

You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup. 

“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back. 

“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.

He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner. 

“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more. 

“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.” 

“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.” 

You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right? 

“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?” 

“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again. 

Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.” 

“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback. 

“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.” 

You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats. 

You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you. 

“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously. 

“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.” 

Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.” 

And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy. 

“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip. 

Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner. 

Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back. 

-

A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece. 

Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens. 

As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie. 

Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date. 

And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair. 

“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop. 

“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”

You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff. 

“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.” 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off. 

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded. 

You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe. 

“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features. 

“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name. 

You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised. 

Joel. 

The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance. 

He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees. 

“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite. 

Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off. 

“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him. 

“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe. 

That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number. 

You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all. 

Fuck it. 

You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line. 

“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day. 

“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest. 

His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside. 

Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No. 

The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out. 

“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks. 

“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…” 

“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?” 

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.” 

-

Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated. 

You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself. 

You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is. 

He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy. 

“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses. 

“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though. 

Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other. 

“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows. 

“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself. 

“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding. 

“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.” 

He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words. 

“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.  

You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out. 

“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.” 

“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?” 

“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. 

“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss. 

“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged. 

“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest. 

“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?” 

“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“I’d love to.” 

Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck. 

It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart. 

You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals. 

He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him. 

He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know. 

So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.

Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer. 

You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months. 

You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other. 

You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace. 

And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to. 

He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man. 

dividers by @saradika-graphics

p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | two.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 4.3k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, the cliché coffee incident pls forgive me lol, parents pushing expectations, honestly not much but an intro to y/n and her family - bit of a filler chap!

"Can you visit mom and dad this weekend with me?" You nibble on the rest of your ramen while you wait for your brother to respond. You're currently sitting on a table outside near the trees, taking your lunch under the shade.

"Can't. I have plans with the boys."

"Wonwoo." You sigh.

"What? I promise, I'll head up there the weekend after. You can come with if you want. Sorry. I just planned this ahead of time and can't go back on my word now."

"Fine." You sip your water and toss your trash onto your tray before standing and throwing it into the appropriate bins.

"What, has mom and dad been on you again about us not visiting?"

"Kinda, yeah? You know how they always make passive aggressive comments because we don't come to see them often." You grab another cup of coffee, taking your time mixing it with half and half and some sugar. "It's always 'you two are always too busy for your parents!' or a 'it doesn't even take long to visit your parents!'" Your younger brother sighs as you quietly hand over some cash to the mobile coffee shop attendant.

"I know, but they also don't understand we've got our own things going on, too."

"I guess, yeah." You lick your lips and take a small sip, being careful enough to not burn your tongue from the scorching temp. "We really should do better, though."

It's not that your parents were bad. In fact, your parents were amazing. They had brought up both you and your younger brother comfortably and happily, sending you both to the best schools and supporting you until you two were able to fully walk on your own two feet, soar high with your own two wings.

It truly was just life.

You had gotten busy; always working at the hospital, growing from the bottom up, barely taking any of your vacation or sick days. If you did, it was because you had to or else you'd reach your max, or because you truly were rotting away in your death bed from a bad flu or food poisoning.

Otherwise, you were always at work. You were always with your girls. You were always going to lagree or bootcamp style studio classes. You were always doing something to occupy your time— mainly work. And the same thing goes for your brother, younger than you by 2 years.

He's just a boy.

But, he's your brother and you're incredibly close to him. He was always listening, was always good growing up. Would always protect you, especially from dumb boys and fake friends. He got good grades and went to college overseas before moving back home and settling down. Since then, he's always learned how to be on his feet— barely ever staying stationary. He, too, was always out with his boys. Working as a full-time software engineer, working out. Traveling when he gets the chance. Dating every now and then. But, you do love that he's living life and spending time with good people. He seems to have a good balance between his work and personal lives, which makes you happy.

It's just unfortunate that you two can't seem to manage slipping in more time with your parents. You both had agreed to do better about it, especially with your parents getting older.

"Are you still gonna see them this weekend, or are you gonna wait for me?"

"Yeah, I'll pop in for a second. I already told them I'd swing by."

"Hm." He hums. "Tell them we'll stop by for longer next weekend."

"Yeah, after I get the earful first." 

"They won't." He clears his throat. "So, how's work been? Ate lunch well?"

"Yeah, I did. Work's been kinda crazy. They're opening this new department at the main hospital and it's expanding into the pediatrics side, too. We've been gearing up for it."

"Oh, really?" You nod as if your brother can see you.

"Yeah. They've been working with adult patients for their two studies, but they're going to start their pediatrics study soon. Pending on the IRB approval. But, once that's all good, they're hoping to secure their first patient, and we need to have everything ready to go."

"That's pretty cool."

"It is, but kinda hectic. Too many moving parts and people involved. It's a lot to keep up with."

"I'm sure you'll handle it well. You always do." You let out a small sigh before checking your watch and slowly walking back towards the peds hospital. 

"Hope so. Work's been okay for you?" He chuckles.

"Same old! Nothing much has changed. Not like that, anyway."

"I see. So, what happened to that one girl you were seeing recently?"

"Uh, we're just better off as friends."

"Better keep that to yourself before mom starts setting you up on blind dates."

"Same goes for you. She'd probably go for you first. Been tryna marry you off." You roll your eyes.

"It's not my priority and she doesn't get that."

"She wants a grand baby and lowkey, I kinda want a nephew or niece to spoil, too." 

"You're no help." He snorts. "Anyway, I gotta head back to my office and get some work done, I got a big meeting for that new department later today."

"Alright. Well, text me when you get home and try to take it easy."

"I will, you too, punk." Wonwoo chuckles. "Love you."

"Love you too!" And with that, the call ends. Your eyes are glued to your phone as you continue to walk back towards the hospital. The weather isn't too bad today, a slight breeze hitting your skin to balance out the warmth from the sun. You continue to switch between keeping your eyes in front, back down to your phone as you scroll through social media to catch up to things you've missed over the past few hours. When you finally get into view of the familiar building and the side lobby entrance, you slip in and head straight to the elevator without paying much attention— especially when it dings and slides the doors open for the individual behind to step out. You feel a soft thud; your body slightly coming into contact with theirs, causing some of your coffee to spill out of the opening on the lid. 

"Oh— oh shit, I'm so sorry!" You look at the tall figure, wide-eyed as you survey his outfit to make sure your coffee didn't spill everywhere on his jacket.

"You're good." He says, eyes coming down to his jacket. There's a few drops of coffee dripping down near the zipper, but nothing that can't be fixed.

"I'm soooo sorry." You repeat as you dab a napkin at his jacket.

"No, seriously. It's fine. You're good." He laughs, brushing you off in a friendly manner. "Nothing laundry can't fix."

"Still another piece to add to your load." You look up at him and slightly pout. "Sorry."

"Maybe just be careful next time?" He gives you a small smile before he brushes past and out of the elevators. You realize he's got his large hand still propped up to prevent the elevator doors from closing on you, and you can't help but feel extra embarrassed. You do a tiny nod before he lets out a small chuckle and walks away, allowing you to be in your peace as you slip into the elevator and watch the doors close in front of you.

It just had to be him.

you: i almost spilled my coffee on a really cute guy ☹️

wonwoo: he'll def never come near you again. way to go sis 💗

you: you're a piece of shit

wonwoo: 🥰

You click your teeth and sigh as you step out of the elevator and onto your floor. You had been working as project manager supporting the pediatrics unit for about a year and a half now, starting at the hospital a few years ago as an admin associate and slowly working your way up.

"What? What's wrong, hun?" Your coworker and also one of your childhood bestfriends, Noeul, chimes in. She works as an HR manager, but her team sits nearby— giving you two the numerous opportunities to chit-chat and catch up in between meetings and tasks.

"I almost spilled my coffee on some really cute guy." She purses her lips together before giving you a toothless smile.

"I mean, you didn't, right?"

"No. Maybe a few drops. Now he'll have another piece of laundry to add to his load. All because of me."

"That's a good way to be memorable." You sigh. "I'm sure he wished he got your number."

"Wow, you're the complete opposite of my brother and I love that." She laughs.

"Of course, I'll always support you."

"How'd your meeting go?" She shakes her head.

"I don't know. So many sensitive issues. I think they only keep escalating and getting worse."

"Are you still dealing with that one manager and her staff member that weren't getting along?"

"Yup. That's exactly the thing that's getting worse."

"Sheesh. I hope they find middle ground soon, or at least find new avenues so they don't have to work with each other."

"Hope so too!" She looks at you. "When's your big meeting with the hospital people?"

"Hm." You hum and check your watch. "In the next hour." You settle at your desk and she follows along, sitting on the edge of the corner. "My inbox blew up over lunch so I gotta take care of a few things before I head over." You sip on your coffee.

"My busy bee." You give her a look. "Goodluck! Let me know how the meeting goes. I've gotta file a few reports and hop into a few other meetings myself. I'll see you later for a quick break?" You give her a small smile.

"Goodluck to you, too." She blows you a little kiss before she's prancing away to her desk, greeting people on the way over. You busy yourself before you need to start packing up and heading over to the main hospital, drowning in a few urgent emails that came in over your lunch break. Time sure flies when your brain is scattered everywhere, your to-do list seemingly never-ending and tossing you in a million different places at once. 

You gather your things about 10 minutes before the meeting, which, doesn't give you much wiggle room in case you get lost. You don't go to the main hospital often, and you're not even sure if you have access to the room or how all of this would work. You are familiar with a few people also attending the meeting, but they're equally just as busy and are probably coming from other commitments. 

You let out a small breath as you power walk over to the main hospital, happy you're at least getting your steps in for the day. You trickle into the huge lobby along with others, turning towards the left where the elevators are located. You press the button, waiting alongside a visitor as the elevator makes its way down from the 6th floor. You step in and patiently wait off to the side, checking your work calendar on your phone to make sure the meeting was indeed today.

Why does it feel like you're the only one heading over?

Were you the only one late at this point?

You step out of the elevator once you make it up to the 7th floor, pausing in your steps because— where the fuck do you go now? It was such a maze in this hospital, you didn't know whether to go left or right; the numbers on the doors skipping from one number to another. You turn to you right just because you go with your gut, hearing a trail of soft voices as you finally see a group of people heading towards a huge conference room further down [and definitely closer to your left had you just turned that way]. You pick up your pace, nodding and sending soft smiles to the familiar faces that catch you through the window of the room as they settle into their seats. Rushing over, someone is stationed at the door— probably waiting for you to make it inside.

"Thank you— oh, hi." You look up at the same, tall figure you damn near spilled your entire cup of coffee on.

"Hi." He gives you a toothless smile as he holds the door open for you. "Well, at least you aren't ramming into me with your cup of coffee this time." He jokes and you can't help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

"Yeah, mm'sorry about that still." You wince and slightly pout.

"I'm just joking. No worries. It happens." He smiles down at you, waiting for you to walk into the conference room. You give him another subtle, short bow before slipping into a chair on the opposite side of the table. You watch as he greets people coming into the room, a bit confused as to why he's still standing by the door until he finally sees the face he's been looking for. 

He's got some kind of wit, some charm. Can't deny it's pretty attractive.

And to your surprise, he plops down in the seat next to you, followed by one of his team members [the said face he'd been looking for] you assume.

"Hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all." He gives you another toothless smile before eyeing your badge. 

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He puts out a hand for you to shake. "Yunho."

"Nice to meet you as well, Yunho." You shyly respond. "At least I don't have to call you the guy I almost spilled all my coffee on anymore."

"Yeah, no." He laughs. "This is Taehyun, my team lead. Taehyun, Y/N." You and Taehyun give each other small, curt bows just as the higher ups step in and settle at the front of the room. 

"Hey everyone! Thanks for meeting. I know everyone is super busy so it's much appreciated." Yoori says as she flips her laptop open and pulls up the agenda slide on the powerpoint presentation. The meeting kicks off with small introductions around the table since a lot of people hadn't worked together like this, especially you and a select others mainly supporting pediatrics. When Yunho introduces himself, you find yourself enjoying the way he speaks. He's got a deep tone, but nothing off-putting. He speaks lightly and positively, chuckling in between statements.

Yeah, he's def got a witty charm to him.

When it's your turn to speak, you can feel Yunho's eyes from the side. He's paying attention and listening closely even if these are quick introductions to the team. He notices the way you shyly smile at those around you, still managing to speak clearly and concisely despite your nervousness that's physically manifesting in the way that your hands tug on the material of your jeans, fiddling with your fingers underneath the table in between the conversation.

Cute.

Then, after the light, airy introduction portion, the presentation gets a lot more technical, and you find that you're actually more involved in this than you expected. You're being asked to oversee the development of the clinical trial room in the pediatric wing, along with scheduling biweekly meetings to discuss updates. Making sure all required attendees are at the meetings and driving things forward. Coordinating across calendars, providing updates every step of the way.

And things seem to be picking up, moving real fast. Things were stalled and slow just a few months ago; now, it's all gas, no brakes.

When it comes to dealing with the ordering structure and IT developments, Yunho takes the lead and discusses the current updates and how they're still figuring out a few tweaks. Yoori is diligently taking notes on her own laptop, along with everyone else who is clarifying through questions of their own.

"Y/N, can you please work with Yunho and his team and the clinical informatics team to make sure the patient ordering enhancements will be taken care of and pushed through? Along with securing the data storage and network? I'll send you the list of required attendees that need to be at each meeting to help push these efforts forward. Let's prioritize this and try to get that done within the next week." You nod, glancing over to Yunho afterwards. He's got his chin resting on the palm of his hand and his eyes dart down to you. His brows perk up before he gives you a tiny, toothless smile. You feel your hands get sweaty from the look alone, so you divert your attention back to your laptop— typing up the rest of your notes on the side. Yunho can't help but glance over at your incredibly organized notes and the way your emails are categorized; all the folders within folders. 

Never-ending folders.

Definitely Type A. 

He does like that, though. Can't help but feel a little endeared by it. 

As the hour long meeting progresses, you feel yourself getting slightly overwhelmed by your growing task list. You can't help but feel an itch to get to your desk to scribble in your planner and get your thoughts organized. 

And as soon as the meeting ends, you cut out with quick goodbyes before rushing over to your office. Yunho was hoping to catch you afterwards to talk a little more, but he watches as you leave, the opportunity now a long gone thought. 

"Where'd you go?" Sian, your other good friend, asks. She's in the finance department, and typically comes over to check in with you and Noeul, especially when she has to drop off some mail for the peds hospital. "You and Noeul were both gone."

"I had that meeting, remember?"

"Oh shit, yeah. How'd it go?"

"I don't know." You plop onto your desk and let out a huff, pulling your planner from your bag before pulling up your notes in the cloud on your desktop computer. "So many things to do and everything feels so urgent." You've already got a few people to meet, along with pushing the operational aspect of this huge project. You've got your hands tied.

"Wow, they're moving fast with this."

"Yeah, very." You shake your head as you write out your thoughts, suddenly pausing to look back up at her as she fiddles with the figurines on your desk. "Hey, do you know the IT managers well?"

"Most of them, yeah."

"Do you know Yunho?"

"Jeong Yunho?" You shrug since you didn't really catch his badge on him. "He's the only Yunho I know of. How could you not know him?"

"Girl, I'm mostly on the peds side, I rarely come to that end." You giggle.

"He's handsome as hell. Tall. Super nice and helpful. Him and his team are so good about coming to the rescue ASAP." Sian nudges you and wiggles her eyebrow. "He's a single dad. I believe his daughter is 10? 11? Probably 11."

"Mm, dad of a pre-teen girl."

"Hey. He's making it." Sian shrugs. "Heard he's a really good father despite losing his wife years ago. I'm sure it must have been incredibly hard." You nod.

"Yeah, I can only imagine."

"He's good friends with Park Seonghwa from marketing. I think they're besties or something." You nod. 

"I only know Seonghwa from the one interview I did with him when we did the remodeling project at the peds oncology unit. After that, barely have spoken a word to him."

"He's a little hottie, too. But, I heard he's got a thing going on with Yoori."

"Yoori? Like.. Director Yoori?" Sian nods.

"They're so weird about it, though. Definitely not known publicly, but people have seen them out together a select few times. Or, seeing Seonghwa go to her house."

"Nosey." You laugh.

"Well, it's definitely a small world around here." 

"Hm." You hum. "So interesting, especially after I just saw her. I would have never suspected."

"What about Yunho, though?"

"First, I almost spilled my coffee on him this morning." Sian nods.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm not that clumsy." 

"Mmkay." Sian laughs. "How much coffee?"

"A few drops." You make a face. "And then he ended up being in the meeting and sitting right next to me." 

"See, big hospital but small world." You chuckle. 

"Feels like college."

"Yeah."

"Speaking of Yunho." You furrow your brows when you see a little notification pop up in your Slack app.

yunho: hey! 

you: hi there! you found me!

yunho: 😀 sorry, i tried to catch you after the meeting but you rushed out. 

you: oops, yeah. i just had a few things to catch up on. 

yunho: all good! do you wanna schedule some time to meet before scheduling the wider meeting with everyone else? i can walk you through everything so we're on the same page.

you: sure, yeah! that'd be helpful. i'm pretty free next week. i just prefer not to schedule anything over lunch if it can be helped. 😅

yunho: i'm the same, don't trip. lol. i'll send you an invite for early next week. what time do you get in usually?

you: mm, around 7:30-8am.

yunho: hm, wanna do 10am on monday then?

you: good with me. ☺️ thank you, yunho!

yunho: sure thing!

"Aw, he even went out of his way to message you." Sian watches you exchange messages from behind.

"Girl, please? We need to talk about getting the patient ordering system together and fixing all the infrastructure for the peds unit." 

"Sounds like you'll be working with him closely? I'm actually kinda surprised his team is on this. Not saying they aren't great, but they're a bit smaller and support other departments." Sian ponders for a bit. "The other IT teams are pretty swamped though, now that I think about it. They probably have the best bandwidth right now."

"Who knows. But, yeah. I guess so. His team lead was also there."

"Maybe you'll get close to Yunho."

"Maybe I won't and just get my job done while minding my own business."

"Y/N. You're single and he's single, don't be so quick to cut him off just because he has a kid. You should put yourself out there again." She teases and you roll your eyes.

"Get out." She snorts. You hate that she's a little right about it; it had been awhile since you were in a serious relationship. You might've messed around with an old college classmate a few times, but it was so casual it ended up fizzling out all by itself and that was that. It's not like you had any bad relationships, either. They just weren't a fit, but you didn't hold any bad blood towards each other. Your mom was tired of it, though. She was hoping you'd finally stay in a serious, committed relationship— one where you'd end up walking down the aisle, settling down in a nice family home, one or two little ones running around [or more, she wouldn't be mad about it]. Maybe that's why you also dread visiting home, because she never fails to remind you that she's waiting, and that time doesn't wait for anyone. She gives Wonwoo a piece of it, too. 

Just not as much as you.

It's always this game of comparison, trying to one-up her friends in some fashion. It's frustrating to deal with. She didn't understand that you were good with where you were at. And even if you did long for a partner and affection in that sense, it's not like you could wish for it to happen and change your life overnight. These things take time. These things need to develop naturally, wholeheartedly, genuinely;

It wasn't your time yet, you guess.

"Anyway, are we still having our little girls night at your place tomorrow?"

"Mhm. Just gotta visit my parents first then I'm all yours."

"Ah." She nods. "Is your brother coming along?"

"Nope. Next weekend, though."

"Goodluck, sweets. Tell us all about it when we come over." Sian looks at her watch. "I was gonna try to wait for Noeul, but I guess she got caught up in some things. I should head back." You nod. "See you tomorrow, my love."

"See you." She smiles before giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze and turning on her heel to take her walk back over to the main hospital.

As the afternoon rushes by, you're able to dock off a few more things on your list before feeling satisfied enough to call it a day. You decide you're a little too tired and worn out to be driving elsewhere for food, so you'll pop into the main hospital cafeteria.

wonwoo: did you spill your coffee on anyone else today?

you: no 🫥

wonwoo: [sends money]

wonwoo: go get a massage or something dude, relax

you: are you serious?!

wonwoo: yeah. 🙄 got a lil bonus from work, so if i'm eatin, you eatin too i guess.....

you: best brother award 😭

wonwoo: u don't mean it

you: i do!!! ily!!! 💕 i'll never call you bighead again!

wonwoo: yeah u def don't mean it

You giggle to yourself, feeling comforted by your brother even at a distance. The thing about your relationship with Wonwoo is that you two were always sharing in each other's ups and downs— good days, bad days. There was never any competition or need to feel like one had to do better than the other, thankfully; and this was a prime example of how close you and your brother were. You truly can't wait to hang out with him next week. You adore him to bits.

As you head back to the main hospital to grab food for dinner before leaving for the day [you definitely prefer the food there], you catch Yunho speaking to one of the nurses on her way out. She's blushing, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while she laughs. Yunho looks nervous, but he's keeping himself pretty composed by the way he's smiling and laughing along with her. You brush past them quickly, and you aren't sure if Yunho noticed you or not— not like it matters, anyway. 

He was definitely asking her out. And by the looks of it, she said yes. She had been wanting to say yes for awhile. 

Welp, there goes the really cute guy you spilled coffee on. 

It wasn't your time yet, you guess.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf

[cherryredlove]

☆ pluck my strings ☆

Modern!au Goth! Aemond Targaryen x reader SMUT

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Recently you've decided to pick up a new hobby, and you've always fancied learning the bass guitar. After picking up the basics on a shitty one you find in a charity shop, you bite the bullet and buy a gorgeous sleek black bass from facebook market. Hopefully the guy you buy from isn't a creep.

Word Count: 2.2k

Themes: smuuut, 18+, rough p in v, dacryphilia, creampie, alcohol consumption, lots of fluff tho!

Reader is implied to be vaguely (the extent is up to u ofc) punk with nipple piercings - drawn from personal experience ;)

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The stale coffee aroma clung to the corners of your favourite neighbourhood café as you scrolled through FB Marketplace, halfheartedly browsing for a bass guitar that wouldn’t cost you an arm and a leg. After learning the basics on the cheap, battered bass you found at a charity shop last month, you finally decided it was time for an upgrade. FB was usually full of shit you lamented internally, sipping a hot mocha in Celtigar Coffee.

Amid the endless sea of overpriced instruments, you stumbled upon a sleek black bass with a gloss finish that caught your eye immediately. You smiled, smitten, at the sight of a black cat next to the bass. The listing promised it had “good vibes and great sound,” and judging by the photos, it looked like it had been well cared for. Alas, the cat wasn't for sale. You clicked on the seller’s profile, and your interest piqued even more.

Aemond Targaryen was his name. His profile picture revealed a strikingly handsome young man, heavily tattooed, with one icy-blue eye that seemed to stare right through the screen and a black leather eyepatch covering the other eye. He was effortlessly cool and goth: black leather jacket, piercings, and a smirk that screamed confidence. Against your better judgment (curse your friend Dyana for scaring you with stranger danger), you shot him a message expressing interest in the bass. Within minutes, he replied.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You took a deep breath as you stood outside Aemond’s apartment complex, the cash for the bass tucked safely in your wallet. The building was impressive: old brick, with ivy climbing up its sides, slightly crumbly but in a chic antique way. Your heart thrummed with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. You’d always heard horror stories about buying things off the internet, but you needed a sick bass, and Aemond seemed cool enough. You tried to dissuade the lick of warmth you felt inside when you glanced at his picture again.

After a short elevator ride and a quick knock, the door swung open, revealing Aemond in the flesh. He was even more striking in person, his silver hair contrasting sharply against his black jeans and t-shirt. Traditional style tattoos snaked down his arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. You swallowed thickly at his heavily muscled arms that flexed as he held the door.

“You must be (Y/N),” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “Come on in.”

The apartment was exactly what you’d expect from someone like Aemond. Dark and moody, with walls adorned in gothic artwork and grungy band posters. A state-of-the-art sound system took up one corner, and an impressive collection of vinyl records lined a bookshelf.

“Wow, this place is... awesome,” you said, trying to play it cool as you looked around.

“Thanks. I like to keep things interesting,” Aemond replied with a small grin. “The bass is over here.”

He led you to a stand where the sleek black bass rested next to three more basses and guitars. Up close, it was even more beautiful than in the pictures. You ran your fingers along its neck, feeling the smoothness of the wood. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and you could already imagine the kind of sound it would produce.

“Go ahead, give it a try,” Aemond encouraged, handing you a cable to plug into the amp nearby.

You slung the strap over your shoulder, letting the bass rest against your body. As you played a few notes, the room filled with a deep, rich sound that resonated perfectly. It felt right—like this bass was meant for you. You grinned at Aemond who clapped lightly.

“You’ve got a good ear,” Aemond said, watching you play. “Most people can’t appreciate quality like this.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his compliment. “I’ll take it.”

You were interrupted by a loud meow. Looking down, a black cat with big moon-like eyes was staring up at you, nose twitching.

"This is Vhagar," Aemond scooped up the kitty and gave her a head kiss. Vhagar meowed approvingly. You reached out to give her a pet and she purred. Aemond seemed extremely pleased at Vhagar's apparent approval of you.

Distracted by the fluffy cutie, you handed over the cash once Aemond had put Vhagar down, and Aemond carefully counted it before nodding. As you packed the bass into its case, he surprised you with a question.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?” he asked, casually leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on you. You noticed he swallowed hard after he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, not much. Why?”

“There’s this club, The Dragon Pit. It’s got a decent alternative scene. Thought you might want to check it out.” You flushed at the surprise. You'd heard of The Dragon Pit. It was pretty legendary in King's Landing.

The offer was unexpected, but there was something undeniably intriguing about him. You’d come here for a bass and found yourself tempted by the idea of a night out with a stranger who seemed anything but ordinary.

“Alright, sure,” you agreed, trying to hide your excitement. “I could use a good night out.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The Dragon Pit was everything Aemond had promised and more. A former warehouse turned music venue, it thrummed with energy as local bands played their hearts out on stage. The crowd was a mix of goths, punks, and metalheads, each in their element, dancing and drinking heavily.

Aemond had secured a prime spot near the stage, and you found yourself getting lost in the music with him. The bassline pulsed through the air, vibrating deep in your chest. It was easy to lose yourself in the rhythm, the heavy riffs drowning out any lingering doubts you’d had earlier. You both sang along and danced together, grasping each others hands and laughing breathlessly, buzzed from several bottles of Asshai beer.

“I didn’t peg you for a punk, thought you'd be a pure goth,” you said, leaning closer to Aemond so he could hear you over the music.

He shrugged, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I’m full of surprises.”

As the night wore on, drinks flowed freely, and the initial awkwardness from his flat between you dissolved into easy conversation and laughter. Aemond’s charm was magnetic, his wit sharp and engaging. You learned that he was a musician himself, dabbling in various instruments and playing in a band called Valyrian Steel with his brothers, sister and their friend that occasionally headlined at the club.

As the band played its final song, the adrenaline of the night combined with the alcohol in your system left you feeling bold. You caught Aemond’s gaze, the charged atmosphere between you undeniable. He leaned in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You melted into his manly hands that held your cheeks.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

Your heart raced at the implication, but you didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, let’s go.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

Back at Aemond’s apartment, the air was thick and heavy. Your heart thrummed harder than the music you'd been listening to. The door barely closed behind you before you found yourself against it, Aemond’s lips crashing onto yours. His kiss was electric, filled with urgency and passion, as if he’d been waiting all night to do this.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his hair as he deepened the kiss. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, leaving no space between you.

Your pussy ignited at his deepened kiss, feeling his hands massage your ass and pull you closer to him. You gasped as he cocked his muscled thigh between your legs, pressing against your tender pussy. You rocked yourself onto him, sparks electrifying your sex.

“Bedroom?” you whispered between kisses, your voice barely more than a breathless plea.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with want. “This way.”

He led you down a dimly lit hallway to his bedroom, where candles flickered, casting soft shadows across the walls. The bed was invitingly unmade, the sheets black, of course, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

Aemond’s touch was gentle yet insistent as he guided you to the bed, his fingers deftly removing your shirt and jeans before he captured your lips again. You reciprocated, helping him out of his jacket and shirt, revealing more of the intricate tattoos that covered his body. He'd kicked off his boots long ago, and stood naked before you, appreciating your nearly nude form with eager hands.

You traced your fingers over the ink. He shivered under your touch, a soft groan escaping him as he pressed against you, guiding you back onto the bed.

He snapped your lacy red bra off at the back. You thanked the Gods you'd worn nice underwear today. His eyebrows raised high at the sight of your pierced nipples, cute little silver bars through them.

"Aren't you full of surprises, little slut," his voice was dark and warm. You gasped at the name, flushing, pussy slick. He flicked his tongue over your perked tits, grinding his hardened cock against your thigh.

You reached down to grasp him, earning a strangled type of whimper from Aemond. He bit down hard on your neck as you tugged him, using his precum to lube up your hand.

"Gods, Aemond, touch me, please!" You begged breathlessly. He laughed richly, pulling down your panties, and lowered his head to your delicious heat.

Your eyes rolled back to your head as his firm and pointed tongue lapped up your juices, sucking insistently on your needy clit. He rutted his hips against the bed, neck flushing as his arousal became uncontrollable. You were lost in the pleasure, wound up from hours of dancing and eye-fucking Aemond. Tears welled up in your eyes as how brutally good it felt to have Aemond between your legs, eating your pussy like it was his last meal. He moaned darkly at the sight of your wet eyes, newfound vigour making you lurch up into sitting and clench your thighs around his skull.

"Aemond! Oh!" You cried out, feeling a hot orgasm blossom inside. The warm fire licked your pussy, legs shaking and Aemond gently supped your cream as you came down from the high.

The orgasm did nothing to abate your lust for him. Your pussy felt painfully empty, and you stared at his long, thick cock as he nudged your pussy lips open.

"Ready, my girl?" He asked, breathless. You nodded, eyes wide, throwing your head back as he thrusted in, stretching you as your mouth fell open in a soundless moan.

Aemond was relentless, pounding you hard and fast, deeply reaching the sweetest spot inside your pussy. He swiped your tears of pleasure away, grinning through pants, and hoisted your legs up over his shoulders.

You drooled over his toned abs and pecs, scratching your nails into his muscles as he kneaded your tits leisurely. His hips snapped up in the most perfect way. Leaning a hand down, he rubbed your clit urgently.

"I'm on birth control!" You gasped out, suddenly remembering. Aemond's eye was fired up, throwing his head back and grinning down at you.

"Oh, my girl, I'm going to fill you up, make you feel so good. No other cock can make this little tight pussy feel so good." He rasped. You nodded, whimpering, feeling that unstoppable heat crawl up in your pussy again.

Mewling desperately and digging your nails into his arms, you orgasmed hard on his cock, squirting over his balls and feeling weightless as the pleasure took over your body. Aemond moaned at how you squeezed him, cumming hard and filling your pussy up with ropes of hot, thick cum. Your pussy felt thoroughly fucked and stuffed full of cream. He collapsed on top of you.

You both lay panting for what felt like forever.

Aemond gingerly got up to clean the pair of you, then nestled back under the cover, clutching you tightly in his thick arms.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

As dawn crept through the windows, you found yourself rested against him, your head lying on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The realization that you’d spent the night with a pretty much stranger didn’t feel as daunting as you’d expected. Instead, it felt oddly comforting.

“You know,” Aemond murmured, breaking the comfortable silence, “I had a really good time last night.”

You smiled against his skin, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t anticipated. “Guess we’re a good match then.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lazily along your arm. “I’d say so," he looked into your eyes. "Want to grab breakfast with me?

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: if you've read my other hotd modern aus, can u see the world building I'm doing? lol if u like the sound of valyrian steel, then i might have a treat for you soon 🍒 ofc send any feedback and requests and check my masterlist for more xx

[redrose10]

Hello, first of all I would like to start of by saying you are a phenomenal writer. Like I came across your account some time around 5 months back and I might have devoured eyes piece of writing there is to here. I love all the prompt requests you do, be it the snake hybrid Yoongi, or CEO ones or the classic jock trope you did. Loved them all. And especially the coffee shop AU you wrote about Yoongi was so damn good. Like edge of my seat till the end good. So thanks a lot for being that good and for choosing to share it with us.

also could I please request no.2 hybrid au for the au part and no.2 as well for the trope and 29 and 39 for prompts. And if it’s not too much to ask (could it be either of Seokjin, Jungkook or Namjoon)

THANKS A BUNCH and regards

Have a great day

Hi! Thank you so much for the kind words! I hope this is okay for you.

< Milk and Kookie>

Dog Hybrid Jungkook x Cat Hybrid Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury/blood, mentions of bullying, theres a bet and being used, swearing

Hybrid, Enemies to lovers

#29 “There is more to the story than you’re telling me.”

#39 “That’s a new low for you.”

*******************************************************

You first met Jeon Jungkook when you were both six years old. He was a wild rambunctious loud dog hybrid and you were the quiet calm patient cat hybrid. You had always thought he was annoying, but one day during snack time, he was rough housing with another dog hybrid named Taehyung and he knocked over your chocolate milk. It spilled all over the front of your favorite white dress. Even though he apologized and your mom was able to get the stain out, you could never bring yourself to get over it.

In the third grade you were supposed to have the lead role in the school play. You were super excited and practiced your lines over and over again. The day before the play you were walking in the hallway when you bumped into someone running by. Jungkook looked down at you with wide eyes and held out his hand to help you up while apologizing. You were agitated, but walked away not thinking much of it. The next morning you came down with a terrible stomach bug causing you to have to back out of the play. The next week at school you found out Jungkook had also been sick with very similar symptoms and while you couldn’t prove it, you were sure he was the one that passed on his germs to you when he helped you up in the hallway that day.

Then in the eighth grade you were telling your best friend how you had a huge crush on the new kid, another cat hybrid named Jimin. You were gushing on and on about how he had the prettiest eyes and his hair looked so soft. You knew that he was really into movies so you saved up all of your babysitting money to ask him if he wanted to hangout and go see a movie with you, your treat. You were walking out to the playground where Jimin was with his friends when a ball came flying at your head. You tried to duck, but was not quick enough and the ball smashed right into your face breaking your nose. You dropped to the ground and cried in pain as blood began to drip all over you. You could hear the familiar sound of Jungkook apologizing, but were too distracted by the teachers doting over you and the laughter that was radiating from Jimin and his friends as they pointed at you.

Something changed in the tenth grade though. You were paired up with Jungkook for your home economics class. You were learning how to make a cake from scratch. As you watched him crack the eggs and mix them in with the butter and sugar you noticed how much he had matured. He was quite a bit taller. His shoulders had widened and he’d definitely put on some muscle mass. His dark colored ears were peaking out of his brown hair as he was fully concentrated on mixing the cake while his long tail lazily hung behind him. He looked at you with a big toothy smile and round doe eyes. It was your turn to work on the frosting. You found yourself wondering if he’d always been that attractive.

You also noticed that he was more than annoying or loud. He was incredibly sweet and thoughtful. He was always buying lunch for the kids that couldn’t afford it. He started helping the librarian every day by putting away the books on the top shelf that she couldn’t reach because he didn’t want her standing on the step stool while she was so far along in her pregnancy. One day you failed a test you studied really hard for. He came and found you bringing you your favorite candy. He listened to you cry and he told you everything that was great about yourself so one little failed test shouldn’t matter. You walked home that day feeling much better than you had in a long time.

The two of you became quite good friends. And senior year was when you realized and fully accepted your crush. It was also the year you went through the most miserable embarrassing moment, all because of him.

When you got to school one morning there was a note in your locker,

“Meet me at our spot after school.-Kookie”

You smiled at the cute nickname you had started using for him. He acted like he hated it but got really offended any time you called him anything else. Your spot was behind the school next to a bunch of rose bushes. The two of you often found comfort there watching the flowers bloom as you talked.

You don’t know what you expected when you got to your spot. Deep down you were hoping, maybe expecting that he was going to ask you out. But it certainly wasn’t for Jungkook to be there with your bully, Mia. Her red lipstick staining his face while his hair had clearly been ruffled. It killed you inside that not only wasn’t he interested in you, but he had the audacity to trick you into meeting him so you could watch him make out with the one girl who made your life hell and it was in your spot on top of it.

Jungkook chased after you when he noticed you running away. He called. He texted. He showed up at your house. He followed you around school trying to get you to listen to him. It wasn’t until you threatened to report him to the principal for harassment that he finally backed off. You kicked yourself for ever falling for him and you began to once again hate Jeon Jungkook just like you had the day he spilled your milk.

College was great. You learned new things. Met new friends. Had a few dates. Things were really looking up.

Then a few months into your second year you decided to move off of campus and get yourself an apartment. The only problem being that rent was disgustingly expensive and there was no way you could afford it in your own. Thankfully your co-worker Namjoon, a wolf hybrid, let you know his roommate Jin had recently graduated and moved out so he had an open room, if you didn’t mind living with him and his other roommate. You thought about it for a few days but after some more searching you knew you’d never find a better option. Namjoon was nice and respectful. He seemed tidy enough and always smelled really nice. You didn’t see him as the possibly a murderer type so you agreed to move in.

And it was on a cool Autumn day when you found out that his other roommate was Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?”, he spat while glaring at you in the doorway. You never did understand why HE developed an attitude towards you. He was the one that intentionally hurt you a few years back. You were innocent.

“I’m moving in. What are YOU doing here?”, you questioned back.

“I live here.”

Great. Just absolutely perfectly great. You felt like you were going to be sick because you had already given up your dorm so you had nowhere else to go other than to live with Jungkook.

“I uh guess you two already know each other?”, Namjoon said carrying in the rest of your bags.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Yeah something like that.”

It was like you could actually feel your blood boiling. You had no idea how or why he had the nerve to act like he wasn’t the reason things got so bad between you. Thankfully Namjoon had a good sense of of the situation and was able to separate you both giving everyone time to cool off.

Surprisingly it wasn’t as difficult to live under the same roof as Jungkook as you thought it would be. You two went to classes during the day. You worked your part time jobs in the evening. Other than Namjoon you had separate friends so hangouts were with different people. The very few times you crossed paths in the apartment you didn’t even make eye contact let alone speak to each other. It wasn’t that bad.

That all change in one night though. You were getting ready to go on your fourth date with another cat hybrid named Yoongi. He was a few years older, but he was very sweet and gentle and you enjoyed spending time with him.

You walked into the kitchen to get some water and saw Namjoon and Jungkook at the table.

“So meeting Yoongi again? The fourth date right?”, Namjoon said raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Don’t even start Joon. He’s not like that. He’s respectful and patient.”

You heard Jungkook scoff, but you chose to ignore it for your own sanity if anything.

“I don’t know Y/N. I feel like most guys, especially college guys are all the same. They only want one thing.”

“No Joon they’re not all like that. Especially not Yoongi.”

Jungkook once again scoffed and this time shook his head mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out.

“Do you have something to say Jungkook? Because if you do just spit it out already.”

He sat up straight like he was ready to say something, but then leaned back in his chair instead, “Nothing Y/N. Go on your date with YooNGi. See how that works out for you.”

“I will. I bet it’ll work out better than anything between you and me.”, you said throwing a glare his way before slamming the glass down and walking back to your room.

Yoongi: Hey I’m outside :)

You smiled at the message. You loved how he could calm you down so easily. You knew Namjoon had left for his shift, but you still tiptoed to the door hoping not to draw the attention of Jungkook. Unfortunately you weren’t so lucky because he was already waiting for you.

He walked to the door placing his hand on it to prevent you from opening it, “Y/N I know we don’t have a great history, but please don’t go on this date with him.”

“And why is that?”, you hissed trying to pry the door open but he was much stronger than you.

He hesitated, “Just…please Y/N just trust me.”

“Yeah okay. The last time I trusted you, you broke my heart by making sure I caught you kissing the girl who bullied me.”

“What?! I never kiss-“he tried to say but you put your hand up to stop him, “Save it. I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuse. I just want to go on a date with a guy I really like so if you would please…move…your…hand.” You tried pulling as hard as you could but it was useless. Your phone was vibrating in your bag and you knew it was Yoongi wondering where you were.

“Jungkook this is basically a hostage situation at this point so either let me go or I’ll have to call for help.”, you said not messing around any more.

Finally he stepped back, “Fine. Go on your date, but just know that he’s not the person you think he is and if you do go on this date you’re only going to end up hurt.”

His words caught you off guard a little.

“There is more to the story than you’re telling me.”, you said eyeing him up and down. He was looking everywhere around the room other than at you so you knew he had more to say but was nervous.

There was a knock at the door which you were surprised when Jungkook answered it because you both knew who it was.

“You okay?”, Yoongi asked when he saw you standing there.

“Yeah uh sorry my roommate had something to talk about.” You left ignoring the begging from Jungkook to let him explain.

When you returned later that night you walked into the kitchen jumping a little when you saw Jungkook sitting at the table in the dark. He had already prepared a glass of chocolate milk with extra chocolate syrup just like you liked it.

You broke down in tears all over again. He comforted you. You explained how in the middle of what you thought was a great date Yoongi got a text. He got really angry and slammed his phone down grumbling about how he hated loosing. When you questioned him he told you about the bet. A bet he had between him and his friend Hoseok. They both picked women who they thought were prudes and the first one to hookup won the bet. And Hoseoks girl gave in first. So since he didn’t care to be in your presence any more as you were useless to him now, he threw some cash down on the table to cover the bill and left you alone at the restaurant. You cried most of the way home and finally really broke down fully infront of Jungkook.

He sat there in silence, every once in a while encouraging you to take a sip of milk or reminding you to breathe.

“Di-Did you know about the bet?”, you whispered in between sobs.

He nodded while licking his lips.

“That’s a new low for you.”, you said shaking your head, “Why do you go out of your way to try and hurt me? Huh? Why Jungkook? What did I ever do to you?”

You could feel more tears coming on as he pulled you into his embrace. As much as you wanted to push him away you were exhausted and cold and he was warm and soft and smelled like comfort.

He took a deep breath, “Its not like that Y/N…well not completely. I heard Yoongi and Hobi talking in class one day. They said they were looking for a nice shy woman they could take on a date. I told them about you. I just wanted you to find someone that made you happy. At the time I didn’t know what their true intentions were. Then yesterday in class I heard them talking about the bet. Hobi said his girl had been all over him last time so he thought he was going to win. Yoongi was clearly irritated and said something about you being even harder to fuck than he thought. I wanted to punch him right there. That’s why I was trying to get you to skip the date tonight. I’m sorry Y/N. I’ve never tried to intentionally hurt you.”

“Yeah…that’s why you purposely asked me to meet at our spot just so I could catch you kissing Mia.”, you said feeling your anger bubbling again.

“Mia? Mia…ooohhhhh high school Mia?”

“Yep…I got your note about meeting at our spot after school. I thought maybe you liked me back…maybe you were gonna ask me out. But boy was I wrong. I saw you standing there with her lipstick all over your face…I guess I was dumb for thinking you liked me anyways.”

He ran his hands through his hair and he turned to look at you, “Is that why you ignored me all this time?”

“Of course it is Jungkook!! Do you know how much that hurt? And it was worse that you did it on purpose. It would’ve been one thing to accidentally catch you, but you purposely set me up.” You could feel another round of tears coming on. Quickly you tried to get up to leave but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back down. His ears were laid so far back down into his hair the that you could barely see them.

“Y/N…I…I didn’t kiss Mia that day. I know that’s what it looked like, but it’s not what happened. She overheard me asking someone for ideas on how to ask you out. She offered to help. She said she would handle it and that I should just show up. I thought she was just being nice…maybe she wanted to make it up to you for all the bullying or something. I had flowers and a little speech prepared and everything. I was so nervous. We were waiting for you. I asked her if my hair looked okay and she went to fix it a little and then she just…she kissed me. I pushed her away, but you’d already seen it. I chased after you. I tried for weeks to explain but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Wait so you really were going to ask me out?”

He smiled to himself, “Yeah I’ve liked you for a long time. Like since we were little kids. I just couldn’t ever seem to not screw things up with you.”

“What do you mean?”, you questioned.

“Like every time I try to help you I end up making it worse. I was trying to stop Taehyung from bumping into you but instead I knocked your milk all over your dress. There was that time I kicked the ball and broke your nose. I just wanted to get your attention to distract you from asking Jimin out because I knew he was going to reject you but I missed my kick. Or when I got you sick before the play. I had heard your understudy say she was going to trip you on the stairs so that she could take your part. I was going to tell the teacher when I ran into you. It’s just like we were never meant to be.”, he laughed feeling sorry for himself

“Well…I mean we are a cat and dog so it kind of makes sense.”, you smiled before resting your head on his shoulder. You chuckled when he quickly grabbed his tail to hide the fact it was beginning to wag in excitement. Just from his hands you could tell he was blushing and you knew your cheeks were heating up too.

“I’m sorry your date didn’t end well.”, he spoke after a few moments.

“That’s okay. It’s for the better I guess. There’s someone else I’d rather be out on a date with anyways.”

“Oh.”, he pouted, “Well I hope he treats you better than the last one.”

“Oh my god Kookie…it’s you! I’d rather be on a date with you!”

His eyes widened at the realization and his tail began to furiously wag even in his hold to try and stop it before he tried to play it cool, “Oh yeah okay. I totally knew that.”, he said, “Want to go to that diner for a late night date?”

“Will you buy me a chocolate milk?”, you playfully asked already putting on your jacket.

He held his hand out for you to grab and began leading you down the hall, “Of course, I’ll even throw in some pancakes too if you want.”

“We’ll see…I’m more of a cookie with my milk kind of cat.”

[ya-boi-haru]

You know what, I like you, let me share my headcannons/thoughts on an AU I recently mentioned...

Fable smp Coffee Shop AU...

• Sherb runs a 24/hr (or late opened) Cafe, The Alchemist Brew. They specialise is mixing different coffee flavours to create a new taste and can even create one for a persons specific need or even mood.

The people that have often come in say it was exactly what they needed; students coming in to study found they work best with Icarus' creations - jokes that they put a focusing chemical drug in it. People on first dates say they added an ingredient that was a big ice breaker for them to bond over. A few cases come in home sick and the drinks taste like home somehow.

• Rae runs another cafe in a different part of town. It's a more traditional place, more old fashioned, rustic aesthetic.

Rae got to take over this place a lot sooner than he thought.

His mother went missing when he was young and his step-dad, Fable, left a few years ago. Icarus' was supposed to take over the buisness but they wanted to do their own thing, especially since Rae and Icarus had different ideas on how they should run the place.

So Rae runs the Gilded Cafe. While keeping the more traditional things on the menu, Rae also explores the history with Coffee. Makes ones how they would make it 30, 50, 100 years ago and happily, shares it with their customers.

• Athena is learning how to open their own bakery (Flour Garden) with Jamie. They offer their goods as a trial to both Gilded and Alchemist Brew Cafe. This way they get to try new foods and have people taste test them and both Cafes get a unique item on their menus each week. The feedback from customers is always appreciated and it sparks new ideas for foods and types of foods.

• Momboo runs a flower and tea shop, The Pink Tulip, both as a seperate transaction but has a talent for getting sweet tastes out of nature's prettiest petals

• Which is a dramatic comparison to her sister, Ocie/Kai, who runs a bar, Sea Dragon, iconicly known for its underwater sailor/pirate aesthetic and strong drinks to match

• Wolf is a business analyst and has helped with the businesses as well as a few others around town

• His partner, Centross, helps manage the Sea Dragon. A couple years ago, he tried to start a buisness with Icarus and Easton (who is a real estate agent), but it crashed and burned real quick. Wolf talked to Kai and she was generous enough to help Centross get back on his feet and they ended up working really well together.

• Aax works in the Gilded Cafe with Rae. He came to Rae looking for work - one in a new town with no connection to the Telchin company. They were awful, treated their employees terribly, and they would use special artificial chemicals in their drinks to make it taste like flavours (Hazlenut, vanilla etc), never the real thing, even their machines were designed to cut corners with brewing.

• Ulysses is still with Telchin, casual, but is still in the town with his Partner. He used to be able to do beautiful coffee powder art, but since the accident in the shop he can't even hold a cup steady.

• Will runs little a Cafe - The Traveller - based on flavours around the world, some places he's been lucky to actually travel to. Seven helps him run the place and really good with machines so they never have to worry about things breaking.

• Now all these businesses have their challenges, but Icarus feels they have an extra one...

A night club across the street 2 doors down, "The World Port". It's an exclusive place and Icarus had heard a few things about it.

It's a jack of all trades types of place, has accommodation for any events, Bachelor party's, birthdays, buisness meetings, heck even wakes.

Icarus' problem is that - for some reason - the owner recommendeds The Alchemist Brew to their customers as a place to sober up. Which would be fine if that didn't mean nights of drunks coming in, making a mess and passing out. They somehow get their mail mixed up as well, and The World Port is loud and makes it hard to focus on work.

• The World Ports concept is to be a place for everyone. It's main area is a bar with a dance floor and great music. They have sectioned off rooms, identified by colour, each room can accommodate for certain events. You could hold 3 different events in once.

• Smaller Headcannons/Notes:

• Caspian comes into the Gilded Cafe as a place to write his stories. He started going there for the nice coffee and cozy vibes, but the manager seems really nice and passionate about his work, so he kept coming in and is now a regular. And the Barista working there is cute nice to talk to as well

• Rae grew to appreciate the small talks with Capsian while on shift. He's even made it into a few pages of Raes sketch book - that will never see the light of day - but that has nothing to do with anything! Rae always draws random customers for practice! Despite Aax pointing out that he draws Caspian more.

• Aax and Rae are dating and are peeking interest in Caspian.

• Wolf and Centross are dating, though Centross is showing interest in Kai. He would deny it to hell and back even though everyone can see it.

• Icarus gets new ingredients/inspiration from their friends. Athena and Jamie's creations, Momboos flowers etc

• During the business Icarus, Centross and Easton tried to run, Icarus made a purple drink that turned out to have an addicting side effect. Part of the reason thee business failed.

• Since the World Port is exclusive, Icarus can't get in to talk to the owner. However, there have been times when they've come into the Alchemist Brew, and Icarus has just not been in there at the right time to see them.

• If they don't want to deal with maintenance companies, the other owners ask Seven to come over and fix their equipment, especially if it should be a simple fix.

• Galahad works at The Traveller and suggested their own mix of a spicier blend

Feel free to add onto or suggest things!

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader - Almost

Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I've been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!

Summary: Reader works at a coffee shop that Levi frequents every day for his black tea. For 6 months, they've talked every day inside of the coffee shop, sharing laughs and smiles.

It's time to take it outside of the cafe.

Bratty barista is what your favorite regular, Levi calls you. You met Levi during your 2nd week working at the coffee shop - his order was a breath of fresh air for you.

"Medium black tea, please."

Every day since then, Levi has come in and ordered his tea. It's been 6 months and every day you feel the same butterflies when you see his steel colored eyes looking into yours as he enters the cafe.

Your feelings for Levi are not new, however you refuse to act on your feelings since his feelings are locked behind a gate. That's okay though, you're fine being alone and casually dating.

You're a 25 year old with a degree in business and a dream of opening your own coffee shop one day. You live alone in a cozy one bedroom apartment, you have a job you really like, and your dreams. What else could a person ask for?

You've never hung out with Levi outside of the cafe since you're too chicken to ask him for his number. So every day you work you pray that he comes in.

And he always does.

"Hey." Levi called your name, wearing a gray suit that went well with his eyes. "My usual, please. How are you?" Levi's voice was monotone, but you could tell how he was feeling that day anyways. Today's mood: Just okay.

"I'm okay, leaving for the day soon. I got the 5AM shift today." You looked at your watch, reading 8:35. Your shift is short today, only 4 hours (thank God) and you had plans to cuddle up in bed and read a book.

"I've actually been thinking," Levi cleared his throat. "Would you want to hang out? Outside of work, obviously." Levi's eyes were half lidded, looking up into yours.

"Obviously."

"Brat." Levi sipped his tea after your coworker handed it to him. It was like temperature did not affect him. "Obviously yes, or obviously after work?"

"Don't both of those mean yes?" You raise your eyebrow, smirking. "Obviously after work, and yes." In your mind, you knew the yes was the most obvious answer. "So, yes. When were you thinking?"

"Well since you just told me you're off for the rest of the day, how about... today?" Levi raised his eyebrow, moving to the side.

"Don't you have work?"

"After work. Obviously."

"Yeah, sure." You try to play it off like you haven't been dreaming of this moment for months. You're pretty good at keeping a poker face, especially around Levi. Most of the time you don't need one because you both have a genuine connection and get along well together, but in times like these where you don't want to seem like you're in love with him, the poker face comes on.

"Here's my number. I know it's on a business card so ignore that, I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

LEVI ACKERMAN: CEO OF ACKERMAN INC. 222-222-2222.

CEO? Of Ackerman Inc? One of the biggest names in the city?

How did you not know this about Levi? Granted, his picture isn't plastered everywhere, he's more of a quiet, stealthy CEO. But still. He acts the opposite of what you would except from someone who's... well, rich as hell and has all the connections in the world.

"Thank you, Levi Ackerman." You emphasize his name, smiling. "I'll text you soon. I need a nap after this shift." You yawn, waving goodbye.

Levi raised his cup to say goodbye, the corner of his mouth turning up to a slight smile.

Earning a smile from Levi was almost like winning the lottery.

Almost.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 7 - Rings

@wolfstarmicrofic August 7, word count 492

Previous part First Jegulus part

Sirius couldn’t stop thinking about his brother after he thought he saw him in the park. It wasn’t exactly helpful as his mind kept drifting from the task at hand and while the café wasn’t nearly as insanely busy as it had been that first week the usual rush hours of breakfast and lunch were more than two people should be able to handle. He was letting Remus down, so he went to work double time and forced all thoughts of Regulus back where they belonged in a little locked box in his subconscious. 

He tutted at the pattern someone had made out of coffee rings on his beautiful white table instead of using one of the many coasters. He had to get the big guns out and spray the whole table with a stain remover of his own invention. With a little elbow grease, it was sparkling clean again and ready for the next customer. 

“One more hour, my love, and then we can go home,” Remus told him as he wrote the name Alan on a to-go coffee cup and a shorthand that only he knew how to read. 

“Shall we snuggle up in bed and shop for a new sofa?” Sirius suggested as he put in the drinks order for one of the sit-down tables and walked into the kitchen to make two cheese toasties and grab a pain au chocolat.

“Sounds like a plan, that is if Potter has vacated the premises,” Remus joked, popping his head around the corner as he grabbed the milk from the fridge. 

“He’d better be, or I’ll call mum on him,” Sirius grumbled as he checked the toastiness of the sandwiches.

“Oooo, I love it when you bring Effie into the mix,” Remus cackled like an evil overlord, making Sirius snort loudly. 

James was gone when they got home and the flat was spotless. He’d even left dinner and a bottle of wine for them as an apology. 

“Should get him to break more things in the future,” Remus mused as he picked up the bottle of wine and read the label. Sirius snickered, Remus didn't have a clue about wines apart from what colour they were. They tucked into their creamy pasta and drank the wine, toasting Jimmy the Dipper for his part in the wonderful dinner and, as they didn’t have a sofa to sit on, went into the bedroom after they'd tidied away their dishes and brought up the local furniture store’s website. 

They perused the many options for a while until they found the perfect one. They’d go into the store after they shut tomorrow and give it a test before they purchased it, but Sirius had a good feeling about the overstuffed grey recliner sofa that should fit perfectly where the old one stood. That done he put his laptop away and snuggled into Remus's side glad that they were the only occupants of their kingsize bed.  

Next part

[princesssszzzz]

Northern Heat

Word count: 6.4K

Warnings: Fire/Ice Smuttiness

Pairing: Baegan ~ Baela x Cregan

Summary:

A flirty Baela spends a night with her tennis coach Cregan Stark after an unexpected encounter at a bar. Modern!AU

Read on AO3

Baela leaned back in her chair, letting out a sigh as she sipped her iced latte. The sun streamed through the large windows of the campus coffee shop, warming her, the wooden tables, and the scattered groups of students enjoying their break. The place was lively but not too crowded, with the hum of conversation mixing with the sound of the espresso machine hissing in the background.

Aly took a bite of her toast, smirking at Baela. “So, you’re telling me you’re spending extra hours at tennis practice just to stare at his muscles?”

Baela laughed, trying to hide her grin. “I mean, have you seen them? The guy’s sculpted. And the way his shirt clings to him when he serves. It’s hard to focus on my backhand when I’ve got that in front of me.”

Netty sipped her cold brew, raising an eyebrow. “You know, you could just ask him out. It’s not like he’s your professor.”

Baela rolled her eyes, shaking her head, letting her growing curls fan her face. “It’s not that simple. Cregan is different. He’s not like the boys around here. He’s all about honor and doing the right thing. I think if I even hinted at something, he’d probably run the other way.”

“Or maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment,” Aly said, winking. “You’re the best player he’s coached. Maybe he’s more interested in improving your game than anything else.”

“Yeah, right,” Baela scoffed. “I’m there every other day pretending I need more practice just to spend time with him. He’s so serious about it too, like ‘Baela, you need to work on your footwork’ or ‘Baela, you’re getting too aggressive on your returns.’ Meanwhile, I’m just trying not to drool.”

Netty giggled at her ridiculous deep-voiced impressions of their coach. “You could always just stop pretending, and show him how good you actually are. Then maybe he’ll take you seriously as more than just a student.”

“Maybe,” Baela mused, stirring her drink. “But I don’t want to scare him off. He’s kind of old-fashioned, you know? And I like the way things are right now, even if he’s all ‘Coach Stark’ and nothing else.”

They let their conversation drift to other topics. The class assignments and weekend plans but Baela’s thoughts kept circling back to Cregan. She pictured him at the tennis courts, his focus entirely on her form and technique, those deep blue eyes watching her every move. He was always so composed, so controlled, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface, something he wasn’t letting show.

As they finished up their lunch, Baela’s phone buzzed with a message from her sister, Rhaena, who was off on some exotic beach vacation with Garmund in her gap year. *Wish you were here, B! Sun, sand, and no worries.* Baela smiled at the thought, but she was content with where she was for now. She was right in the middle of her own little game, where every day with Cregan was another serve in a match that had only just begun.

“Ready to head out?” Aly asked, gathering her things.

“Yeah,” Baela said, standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Same time tomorrow?”

“You’re not seriously going back to the courts again, are you?” Netty teased her, speaking loudly so Aly wouldn't miss her calling out Baela.

Baela just grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

As they left the coffee shop, Baela’s thoughts were already on tomorrow’s practice, wondering if maybe Cregan would notice that she wasn’t struggling with her backhand after all.

Baela’s silver curls bounced as she sent the tennis ball flying over the net, her lilac eyes focused on the game. The afternoon sun just barely lit up the courts, contrasting her Targaryen features and the rest of the world even more pronounced. She was used to standing out. No one else on this campus had her ethereal look, and she always noticed how it drew attention. But today, her mind was less on her appearance and more on the man standing on the other side of the net.

Cregan Stark watched her with his usual calm focus, brown eyes steady and unreadable as he returned her shot. His brown hair was slightly tousled from their practice, and Baela found herself studying him in a way she never used to with others. His features were common enough. The typical brown hair and brown eyes. On Coach Stark though, it looked different, more intriguing. She’d never paid attention to those details in anyone else until she met him.

As they rallied back and forth, Baela decided to break the silence between the loud ball smacking. “You know, I’ve always liked your accent,” she said casually, before sending another ball his way.

Cregan paused mid-swing, nearly missing the ball as it flew past him. A faint blush crept up his neck, and he shook his head with a half-smile. “I don’t have an accent,” he protested, even though his deep voice tinged with that unmistakable northern lilt.

“Oh, but you do,” Baela teased, stepping closer to the net. “It’s that northern charm. Makes everything you say sound so rugged.”

Cregan chuckled at her, trying to mask his embarrassment as he retrieved the ball. “I never noticed.”

Baela twirled her racket in her hand, enjoying the way she could get under his skin. “I’m sure the girls back home notice. You must’ve broken a few hearts with that voice.”

Cregan leaned, shaking his head again but this time with a playful glint in his eye. “You’ve been watching too many romantic dramas. I’m just a guy who talks about tennis too much.” He respectfully lowered his head while wiping his sweat, thinking Baela would move on to talk about something else.

“Well, speaking of,” Baela said, trying to keep the conversation going, “how much do you lift at the gym? You’ve got some serious muscles, Coach.”

Cregan raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Uh, I don’t keep track. Just enough to stay fit, I guess.” She grinned at his obvious lie and attempts to remain humble.

“Come on,” Baela pressed, moving closer to him as if she could coax the information out of him with her proximity. “And what about outside of tennis and working out? Do you live alone, or do you have someone waiting for you after practice?”

Cregan’s expression softened, and he let out a small sigh, recognizing the direction she was steering the conversation. “I live alone,” he said simply, his tone still guarded. “And most of my time outside of coaching is pretty quiet. Not much to tell.”

Baela tilted her head, studying him with those lilac eyes that always seemed to see more than people wanted to reveal. “Quiet’s not so bad,” she said softly, letting the moment linger between them.

Cregan cleared his throat, sensing the need to bring the conversation back to safer ground. “So, about your backhand,” he began, but Baela just laughed, cutting him off.

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” her smile making it clear she wasn’t offended.

“It’s my job to make sure you’re ready for your next match,” Cregan replied, a hint of his smile forming. “And you’ve been slacking on your right footwork.” Baela rolled her eyes, but there was warmth in her voice as she said, “Alright, Coach. But one of these days, you’re going to have to stop hiding behind the tennis court.”

Cregan’s gaze met hers before she moved, and for a brief moment, the professionalism he clung to wavered, revealing a flicker of something more. But just as quickly, he composed himself, nodding toward the baseline. “Let’s see that backhand, Targaryen.”

Baela smiled, turning to take her position. “Whatever you say, Stark,” she called over her shoulder already planning her next move, both on and off the court. -

The drive out to the small, off-the-beaten-path bar had been filled with laughter and loud music as Baela, Aly, and Netty left their school and annoying classmates far behind. They were in the middle of nowhere now, hours away surrounded by fields and old farmhouses that looked nothing like the sleek buildings they were used to in the city.

“This place is so different,” Netty said, leaning forward from the back seat. “It’s like we’ve stepped back in time or something.”

Baela grinned, her lilac eyes scanning the quaint, almost hick-town vibe of the area. “Yeah, it’s kind of nice not having to deal with any of those idiots from school, though.”

“True,” Aly added as she navigated the narrow road slowly, trying not to crash. “I swear, if I have to hear another guy try to impress me by talking about his car, I’m going to scream.”

They all laughed, the kind of carefree giggle that only comes when you’re far enough from your usual world that it feels like nothing can touch you.

When they finally pulled into the gravel parking lot of the bar, the place looked like something out of an old movie. Wooden beams, dim lighting, and a jukebox playing some country song in the corner. It was perfect for a night of just being themselves.

As they grabbed a booth and ordered drinks, the conversation turned to family. A topic that was always full of drama for Baela.

“So, what’s the latest with your mom?” Aly asked, taking a sip of her drink.

Baela shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips. “She’s good. She spent so long raising me and Rhaena, so we’ve been telling her to ignore my dad and go be a model, do whatever makes her happy. I even told her to cheat on him if she bumps into hot actor or something.”

Netty snorted into her coke. “Goddamn, Baela. That’s cold.”

“Why not?” Baela said with a laugh. “It’s not like he’s ever around. He’s too busy doing whatever dirty work my uncle has him wrapped up in. Pretty sure he’s a criminal, honestly.”

“At least you’ve got money,” Netty said, half-joking. “I mean, I grew up broke. Had to hustle for a scholarship just to get into our school. Now I steal food for fun, even though you keep offering to pay for everything with your dad’s credit card.”

She giggled at her kleptomaniac tendencies, almost getting her and Aly arrested once at a mall.

Baela rolled her eyes but smiled. “You know I don’t care about the money.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Netty waved her off with a grin. “But where’s the fun in swiping a card?”

They all laughed again. It was nice to let loose, especially with the chaos of their lives. As they settled into the vibe of the bar, they listened to Aly rant about bailing her cousin out of jail before Baela spoke again. She decided to share something that had been gnawing at her.

“Speaking of cousin drama,” she began, lowering her voice a little, “Aegon’s been following me around again, trying to.” She widened her eyes. “Well, you know.”

Aly and Netty exchanged looks of disgust. “That’s messed up,” Aly said, shaking her head. “He’s so disgusting.”

“Yeah, tell him to back off,” Netty added. “Or better yet, just smack him.”

Baela sighed. “I know, it’s just yuck.”

Before they could dive further into that conversation, Baela’s attention was suddenly caught by a loud burst of deep laughter from the bar. Her eyes widened when she realized it was Cregan, clearly drunk and surrounded by a group of guys. He was louder than she’d ever heard him, his usual stoic demeanor replaced by something much rowdier.

“What?” Baela started, blinking in surprise.

Aly followed her gaze and grinned. “Well, well, if it isn’t Coach Stark letting loose.”

Netty peered, trying not to look too hard. “He’s hot even when he’s a mess. Bless him.”

Baela felt her heart skip a beat. She had a crush on Cregan, sure, but seeing him like this was a shock. She’d never imagined him as anything other than the serious, honorable guy he was on the tennis court. This side of him, drunk and loud, was completely new.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Baela muttered, still trying to wrap her head around it.

Aly nudged her with a smirk. “Maybe now’s your chance to see what he’s really like.”

Baela hesitated, watching as Cregan laughed with his friends, his brown hair looking disheveled and his usually sharp eyes completely relaxed. It was weird seeing him so unguarded, but part of her was curious, maybe even excited, to see this side of him.

“Go on,” Netty urged, "Go say hi.”

Baela took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay, but if this is a disaster, I’m blaming you two.”

With that, she slid out of the booth and made her way over to the bar, her heart racing. As she got closer, Cregan looked up and noticed her, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer.

“Baela?” he said, his voice a little slurred but still familiar. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, trying to sound casual as she leaned against the bar.

Cregan chuckled, though it was rougher than usual. “Just, having a night out, I guess.”

Baela smiled, but she could feel the awkwardness in the air. He was shocked to see her there. This wasn’t the Cregan she was used to, and it threw her off. “Well, it’s good to see you, Coach. Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking into his drink. “Didn’t think you’d see me like this, either.”

There was a beat of silence before Cregan looked back up at her, his usual guarded expression slipping away for just a moment. “You having a good time with your friends?” He peered over at the two girls failing to hide that they’d been watching him.

Baela nodded, sensing a vulnerability in him that she hadn’t noticed before. “Yeah, we needed to get away from school for a bit and get a drink.”

Cregan smiled faintly, then gestured to his drink. “Want a round? My treat.”

Baela was about to say no to be polite, but then she saw the way his eyes held a glint of something. Curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself nodding. “Sure, why not?”

As they stood at the bar, drinks in hand, Baela couldn’t help but feel like she was seeing a new side of Cregan.

-

Baela twirled on the dance floor, her silver curls catching the light as she moved to the beat of the tenth unfamiliar country song. She didn’t care that she didn’t know the words. All she cared about was the feeling of freedom that came from being miles away from campus, far from the prying eyes of their annoying classmates.

Aly and Netty danced alongside her, laughing as they tried to keep up with the rhythm. The bar was small and a bit rundown, but it had a certain charm that made it perfect for a night like this. It was just the three of them, letting loose and enjoying the night without a care in the world. No cousins. No school.

As Baela spun around again, she caught a glimpse of Cregan at the bar. He was alone now and was watching her, his brown eyes fixed on her every move. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, making her heart race. It was a look she wasn’t used to from him, one that was far from the usual stern and professional expression he wore during practice.

He was still sitting at the bar, his drink in hand, but he hadn’t taken a sip in a while. Instead, his attention was entirely on her, as if she was the only other person in the room. Baela’s stomach fluttered at the thought. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this, and it was throwing her off balance in the best way possible.

When the song ended, Aly and Netty finally decided to take a break, leaving the dance floor and giving Baela a knowing look as they headed toward a booth in the corner. “Go talk to him,” Netty whispered with a grin before she and Aly retreated to the bathroom to give Baela and Cregan some privacy.

Baela hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. Then, summoning her courage, she made her way back over and slid onto the stool next to Cregan. His eyes followed her every move, and the heat of his gaze was almost palpable.

“You guys sure know how to make a statement.”

She blushed at his comment, feeling a little more emboldened by the alcohol coursing through her veins. “Well, it’s not every day we end up in a place like this. We figured we’d go big or go home.”

He gave her a lazy smile that sent another shiver down her spine. “You certainly did that.”

Baela bit her lip, noticing the way his gaze lingered on her mouth before he finally took a sip of his drink. “You're different tonight,” she observed, her tone curious. “Looser, I guess.”

Cregan’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Maybe that’s because I’m not on the clock. No reason to be uptight when I’m off-duty.”

Baela raised an eyebrow, still not entirely convinced. “Or maybe you’re just drunk.”

He shook his head, the smirk never leaving his face. “I’m of sound mind, I promise. This is just what we do in the North. We drink, we let loose, we have a good time. That doesn’t mean I’m not in control.”

Baela felt her pulse quicken at his words, the flirtatious edge in his voice catching her off guard. “You’re not worried about getting too carried away?”

Cregan’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. “Depends on what you mean by ���carried away.’”

Baela swallowed hard, her mind racing to keep up with the sudden shift in their conversation. This wasn’t the careful, measured Cregan she was used to.

“So,” she began, trying to keep her voice steady, “what would you do if I told you I wanted to get carried away?”

Cregan’s smirk faded into something more serious, more intense. “I’d ask you if you were sure that’s what you really wanted.”

Baela’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or if she was really feeling this way, but suddenly, the idea of getting carried away with Cregan didn’t seem so crazy.

Before she could respond, though, he leaned back slightly, giving her a moment to think. “No one knows you’re my student here,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s just you and me.”

The realization hit Baela like a ton of bricks. No one in this bar had any idea who they were or what their relationship was supposed to be. They were just two people in a bar, sharing a moment that could go anywhere.

“I’m not used to seeing you like this,” Baela admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan reached out, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Maybe it’s time you got used to it.”

Baela’s heart skipped a beat at his touch, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words. She’d never seen this side of him before, but now that she had, she wasn’t sure she could go back to pretending he was just her coach. Not when he was looking at her like this.

Around them, the bar continued to buzz with activity, but for Baela, the only thing that mattered was the man sitting beside her. The man who, in this moment, wasn’t just her coach but something much more.

As the night wore on, the bar began to empty out, leaving only a few stragglers nursing their last drinks. Netty and Aly finished their dancing, cheeks flushed and smiles wide, before grabbing their things and heading toward the exit. They waved at Baela on their way out, giving her one last teasing grin before disappearing into the night.

Baela watched them leave, then turned back to Cregan, who was still sitting beside her. He signaled the bartender for another round of drinks, a mischievous grin on his face. “You might be a tough girl, Baela, but you’re still a city girl through and through,” he teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Baela shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You said you wanted a cocktail or martini earlier. But this place? It’s all about the beer.”

Baela rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, but only because you’re buying.”

Cregan grinned as the bartender set down two new frosty mugs of beer in front of them. “See? You’re getting the hang of it.”

They clinked their heavy mugs together, the cool beer a stark contrast to the warmth of the bar. The conversation flowed easily between them, and before they knew it, hours had passed, and they were the last ones left inside.

Eventually, Cregan tossed some cash on the counter, and they made their way outside into the cool night air. Baela couldn’t help but notice the old, beat-up truck parked in the lot, its paint chipped and rusted in places. She smirked, pointing at it. “That yours?”

Cregan glanced at the truck, then back at her, a wry smile on his face. “Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

Baela laughed, shaking her head. “Nothing, just… it’s a little different from my new BMW, that’s all.”

Cregan smirked, leaning against the truck. “Your family’s got more money than mine for sure, but we’ve been around here longer. This old boy’s been through a lot.” He patted the creaky frame.

Baela grinned, appreciating his honesty. “Well, let’s see if it still runs.”

Cregan opened the passenger door for her, and she slid in, the worn leather seats creaking beneath her. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, she couldn’t resist making one last jab. “You sure this thing’s gonna make it out of the parking lot?”

Cregan shot her a sideways glance, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s got a few more miles in it, just like me.”

He started the engine, the truck rumbling to life with a low growl. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Baela turned to him, her expression softening.

“Hey you don’t have to drive me home, you know,” she said, her voice teasing, trying to sound seductive.

Cregan glanced at her, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Oh? Where am I taking you, then?”

Baela leaned back in her creaky seat, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked him in the eye. “Your place.”

Cregan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly, and the flirtatious banter between them suddenly charged with yet another tension. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just kept his eyes on the gravel road as they drove through the dark streets.

Finally, he nodded, his voice low and steady. “Alright, Baela. My place it is.”

Cregan’s truck rumbled down a winding, tree-lined road, the headlights cutting through the darkness as they made their way to his place. Baela stared out the cracked window, the cool night air streaming in slowly. Her thoughts raced as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened that night. The sudden shift from playful banter to something far more intense and intimate was throwing her off but in the best way possible. She was finally getting what she wanted.

When they finally pulled up in front of a large but modest weather-worn house, Baela couldn’t help but smirk. The place had a certain rustic charm, but it was clear it had seen better days. The paint was peeling in places, and the porch looked like it could use some work. “Wow, Coach,” Baela teased, stepping out of the truck. “Ever think about renovating? You know, joining us in the 21st century?”

"It’s a little rough around the edges, but it’s home,” he replied, his tone still playful. “It’s got character.”

Baela followed him up the loudly creaking steps, her eyes flicking to the worn wood beneath her feet. “Yeah, it’s got...something. Might want to start with replacing these steps before they collapse.”

He unlocked the door, shaking his head with a grin at her comments. “I’ll get right on that, Princess.”

Inside, the house was just as she’d imagined. Cozy and dated, with an old-fashioned feel that spoke to the house’s long history. The furniture was sturdy but clearly well-worn, and the decor was simple, with no frills or unnecessary luxuries. Her parents would hate to live in a place like this. It was a far cry from the sleek, modern interiors she was used to, but there was something undeniably charming about it.

Baela took it all in, walking around the small living room as she shrugged out of her jacket. “This place is definitely you, Cregan. Rugged, a little rough around the edges, but solid.”

Cregan appreciated the flattery, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her. “You’re full of compliments tonight, aren’t you?”

Baela turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just calling it like I see it.”

He shook his head, grinning while staring at her. “Make yourself at home, then.”

She walked over to the old couch, running her hand along the worn fabric before turning back to him with a teasing smile. “May I?”

Cregan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s sturdier than it looks.”

Baela didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her every move, the tension between them thickening with each passing moment. She bit her lip, feeling a thrill at the way he looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. With a playful glint in her eye, she slowly reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion.

Cregan’s breath hitched as she tossed the shirt aside, leaving her in just her bra and low-rise jeans. “Baela.”

She smiled, reclining on the old couch as if it were the most comfortable thing in the world. “You said to make myself at home.”

His eyes darkened, the air between them sparking up as he pushed off the doorframe and took a step toward her. “Baela.” He repeated her name.

She leaned back, resting her head against the arm of the couch as she looked up at him, her voice soft and teasing. “Yes?”

Cregan’s jaw tightened as he closed the distance between them, the space shrinking until he was standing right in front of her, looking down at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her body.

Baela’s heart pounded in her chest as she met his gaze, the banter between them fading into something far more serious, far more sensual.

Baela watched as Cregan stood over her, his usually guarded expression replaced with something raw and intense. The tension that had been simmering between them finally reached a boiling point, and she could feel the electricity crackling in the air.

She tilted her head back, her silver curls spilling over the arm of the couch as she gazed up at him, a soft, teasing smile playing on her lips. “Are you just going to stand there, Coach? Or are you going to join me?”

Cregan’s eyes darkened, the usual restraint he showed around her nowhere to be found. He slowly knelt beside the couch, his hands resting on her knees as he gently pushed them apart. His touch was careful, almost reverent, but there was a hunger in his eyes that made Baela’s heart race.

“You’re something else, Baela,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You know that?”

She laughed softly, the sound light and breathless. “I’ve been told that once or twice.”

Without another word, Cregan leaned down, his lips brushing against her skin as he kissed a slow path along her inner thigh. Baela’s breath caught in her throat, her teasing demeanor slipping as a shiver of anticipation ran through her.

The scruff of his beard grazed her skin, the sensation both ticklish and incredibly intimate. She let out a surprised giggle, the unexpected feeling breaking through the seriousness of the moment. “Your beard,” she whispered, her voice full of laughter. “It tickles.”

Cregan paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at her. “You like it?”

She nodded, biting her lip to stifle another giggle. “It’s different. Good different.”

With a low chuckle, he returned to his slow exploration, his hands firm and sure as they guided her hips closer to him. Baela’s laughter faded into soft gasps as the sensation of his mouth on her skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. The playful banter between them melted away, replaced by something deeper, more intimate.

Time seemed to blur as they lost themselves in the moment, the connection between them intensifying with each passing second. When Cregan finally moved to kiss her, his lips claiming hers with a fierce passion, Baela responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.

She moaned into his mouth, tasting him. He tasted like mint and the faint traces of cinnamon, a mix that uniquely seemed like him. It made her crave more and when his hands trailed down her back to remove their clothes, she let out a small sigh of satisfaction, arching into him unconsciously. She felt him smirk against her mouth before he deepened the kiss.

Cregan lifted her effortlessly, guiding her onto his lap as he settled back against the worn couch. Baela straddled him, her hands bracing against his shoulders as she gazed down at him, her silver curls framing her face. She could feel the heat of his body beneath her palms, his breath warm against her lips as he looked up at her with so much desire.

His dark gaze traveled down her body, making her blush slightly, but he quickly caught her eye again. He smirked as if he knew exactly what was going through her mind. “You’re beautiful, Baela,” he breathed. “Everything about you is gorgeous.”

Baela flushed even darker as she bit her lip, moving in to kiss him again. She kissed him long and deep, feeling him respond hungrily as one hand came up to cup her breast, her hips grinding lightly into him. Her breathing quickened as he began to caress her, rubbing against her intimately. His erection pressed firmly against her stomach, which elicited a soft whimper from her. He smiled against her lips. “What do you want?"

He whispered huskily again when she didn't answer, too preoccupied with nipping him with kisses. "Tell me, baby."

Baela shook her head against his lips. She couldn't breathe properly, her chest heaving with the need for air as he continued kissing her senselessly. She ran one hand up his chiseled arm as he held her against him, his fingers digging into her hip bone.

He pulled away just enough to say, “Come on, you're always so brave. Don’t be shy now, tell me what you want.” His voice sounded hoarse and it took everything in her not to squirm in pleasure, her arousal flaring even more. “Please tell me what you want.” His tone was pleading and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“You know what I want Stark.” The words were barely audible as she fought to stay sane.

“I want to hear you say it, Baela. Please.”

Her breath hitched as his fingers slipped in between them, finding the opening between her legs. The cool air made her shudder as his fingers brushed against her sensitive skin. “Oh, god.”

She sighed before speaking again. "Fuck me."

“Yes,” he said immediately, pressing his lips hard against hers to emphasize his agreement as he licked his way around her breasts, kissing every inch of her exposed skin until his mouth found her nipple and lined himself up to her opening.

Baela cried out, arching upwards into him as she arched against him. His fingers teased her, teasing her until she begged him to thrust inside her. He complied instantly, sliding deep inside her. They both gasped and then moaned together, panting with the intensity of their pleasure. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as they moved together.

Cregan’s grip tightened, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved with her, their bodies perfectly in sync. Baela’s breath hitched as the intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to look away, wanting to capture every detail of this moment between them.

They rocked slowly, building up the speed as they rode the waves of their passion. His hands gripped her bottom as he pulled her in tighter, driving into her relentlessly, his cock stretching her further as they continued their erotic dance. She groaned softly, the pleasure unbearable as her climax peaked. She buried her face in his shoulder as she trembled and convulsed, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes from the force of her release. She only wanted this, to make sure this wasn't fleeting.

He groaned as well, his entire body trembling as his climax crashed over him. After a few minutes, he leaned back, resting his weight against her as he struggled for breath. His face glistened with sweat, his chest rising rapidly as he tried to calm himself. Baela smiled fondly as she smoothed the damp strands of his dark brown hair off his forehead.

The tension that had built up between them over the past weeks finally found its release, their connection had deepened with every touch, every kiss, every shared breath. The playful banter, the unspoken longing, the undeniable chemistry. All of it came together in a perfect storm of emotions that left them both breathless.

Baela let out a soft, contented sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder, her silver curls brushing against his cheek. Cregan wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they sat there in the quiet aftermath, the tension between them finally giving way to a comfortable, shared silence.

After a long moment, Baela lifted her head, her lilac eyes meeting his with a playful smile. “I guess your old couch isn’t so bad after all.”

Cregan chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Told you it was sturdier than it looks.”

Baela laughed, the sound light and carefree as she nestled against him, savoring the warmth of his embrace.

The soft morning light filtered through the thin curtains of Cregan’s bedroom, casting a waking Baela up. She stirred, a lazy smile stretching across her face as the events of the previous night came flooding back. She felt the warmth of the blankets against her skin and the comfort of the old, worn-in bed beneath her. It was surprisingly cozy for such a rugged place, though she had a feeling that might have had more to do with the man than the bed itself.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she turned her head just in time to see Cregan walk in, still naked, carrying a tray with breakfast. Baela couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the sight of him so casual and at ease making the moment feel both surreal and ridiculously charming.

“Well, good morning to you too,” she teased, her lilac eyes sparkling with amusement. “You always serve breakfast like this, Coach?”

Cregan grinned, setting the tray down on the bed before leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “Only for special guests.”

Baela rolled her eyes playfully, sitting up and taking in the spread before her. Eggs, toast, and a few slices of bacon. Simple, but it smelled delicious. She grabbed a piece of toast, nibbling on it as she looked up at him, curiosity getting the better of her.

“So,” she started her voice light and teasing. “How does a guy like you end up being a tennis coach? I mean, you don’t exactly fit the stereotype.”

Cregan chuckled, sliding back into the bed beside her and leaning against the headboard. “Honestly? I don’t know. It just happened. I played a lot of sports growing up, and was pretty good at it. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, I was coaching.”

Baela raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his vague answer. “That’s it? No secret passion for tennis? No dramatic backstory?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nope. Just a guy who’s good at sports and wanted a job.”

Baela was about to press him further when something suddenly dawned on her. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the toast onto the tray, sitting up straight. “Oh my gods, I left my phone at the bar! Netty and Aly have probably been calling this entire time.”

Cregan smirked, clearly not as concerned as she was. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean, ‘don’t worry about it’? I need my phone! What if someone took it?”

He leaned in, his grin widening as he brushed a strand of silver hair behind her ear. “Baela, it’s fine. I own the bar.”

She blinked, her mind trying to process what he’d just said. “What?”

Cregan nodded, clearly enjoying her confusion. “And most of the northern part of town, too. It’s a family thing.”

Baela stared at him, utterly shocked. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, still grinning as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers. “Afraid not, Princess.”

Baela’s mind reeled as she tried to wrap her head around this new revelation. Cregan wasn’t just a coach. He was practically the king of this small town. And here she was, sitting naked in his bed, having spent the night in his arms.

Before she could ask any more questions, the older man kissed her, his lips warm and insistent against hers. The shock of his revelation melted away, replaced by the familiar heat of their connection. Baela kissed him back, her hands finding their way to his chest as she pulled him closer.

As their lips parted, Baela couldn’t help but smile, the surprise still lingering in her eyes. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Cregan chuckled, his forehead resting against hers as he looked into her lilac eyes. “Stick around, Baela. You might find there’s a lot more to discover.”

Baela smiled softly, shaking her head in disbelief as she pulled him in for another kiss, the rest of the world fading away as she lost herself in the moment.

[seaoflove07]

🌹 Oc Introduction 🌹

• Artwork by The Drawables •

The red rose symbolizes romance, love, beauty, & courage.

It was the beginning of you and me,

Little by little,

You haunted my heart

and I

Became your Rose.

- By Me.

• I created my Oc on Picrew •

~ Diabolik Lovers Oc ~

A human young adult.

Name: Christine Melendez.

Gender: Female.

Pronouns: She/her.

Age: 20 years old.

Nationality: Hispanic American.

Languages she speaks: She is fluent in English and Spanish.

Blood Type: A+

Favorite Color: Pink.

Birthday: October 21st.

Favorite Flower: Pink and Red Rose.

Favorite Season: Summer.

Favorite Food: Pizza.

Favorite Drink: Coffee. She's a coffee lover who drinks 5 or 6 cups a day. Please don't judge her. She also loves Red Wine. 🍷

Hobbies: Reading Poetry, Coffee Dates, Listening to Music, Baking Cookies and Nature walks.

Favorite Novel: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin.

Places she loves going to: The Beach, Botanical Gardens, Mall, Coffee Shops, Museums, and Bookstores.

Christine is very hard-working and responsible. She hates laziness. She is a very outgoing person, loves hangouts and she's very talkative. She is not a shy person when it comes to meeting new people.

She lives in the United States and works at an Elementary School. She's one of the younger Teachers and she loves working with children.

Christine has a kind heart and loves helping others. But her little self can get moody at times and she gets angry easily. But she knows how to control her temper.

~ APPEARANCE ~

• Artwork by December Custom •

Eye Color: Medium Brown.

Hair: Blonde and her hair is 24 inches long. Sometimes she will have two different hairstyle.

Example: Left soft wavy. Right soft curls.

Height: 157.48 cm.

Breast size: C cup.

Scent: Roses.

All her body care and hair products are rose-scented. Her favorite perfume and signature scent is Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel. 🌹

A classy and very feminine fragrance. It’s a lovely floral scent with main notes of Rose, Patchouli, and a tiny hint of citrus. These notes together make the fragrance smell elegant and fresh. It's described that it smells like an imaginary fairytale garden. 💐

Christine loves this perfume and she wears it every day.

Azusa is obsessed with her scent. The scent of roses mixed with her blood scent is intoxicating to him.

• Artwork by The Drawables •

Style: Girly and Feminine.

• Character Sheet. Template by @/eternalchiyo •

My Oc will not have a main outfit. She will have different outfits in all her artworks. Except for her uniform that will be her main uniform style.

Christine loves fashion and getting doll-up. Dresses and high heels are favorite.

She also loves skirts, cute blouses, black boots, and gold jewelry. Her favorite everyday necklace is a Gold Cross.

~ Diabolik Lovers AU Story Information ~

Story Title: Love Planted a Rose. 🌹

It will be a Trilogy. Dark, Maniac, and Ecstasy.

Art Cover and Story Description, Here.

Christine Diaboy Ship: 🔪Azusa Mukami.

• Artwork by The Drawables •

Azusa will be her one and only, I will NOT do Love Triangles or Multi-ship with the other Diaboys.

~ Why he calls her “Rose?” and not “Eve?”

Azusa calls Christine “Rose” mainly because of her scent of roses. But he has also said that the Red Rose in general reminds him of her.

Quotes is from a short Fanfic I wrote.

Azusa: “… I was… walking in the garden… and I picked up this… red rose for you...”

Caressing her cheek, he looks at her with so much love in his eyes.

Azusa: “You are… just… like this rose… You’re pretty… like this rose… you smell nice… like this rose … your skin is soft… like the…rose petals… and your blood… is the same color… like this rose…”

Quotes are from my Novel, Chapter 3.

Christine: “Rose? Why are you calling me “Rose?” When my name is Christine.”

He moves closer to her, runs his fingers through her hair, and strokes it. While caressing her arm with his other hand.

Azusa: “Your scent… is so good… and your skin… is so soft… like rose petals… you remind me of a beautiful red rose… The name suits you…”

“So nice... my own... little rose...”

Azusa likes to give roses to Christine as gifts, he also loves to place roses and other flowers on her hair. To him, she looks adorable. Later on in their story he also bought her a Red Rose hair clip. (The Red Rose in her hair that you see her wear in most of her arts, that's the clip he bought her) ☺️ Azusa also knows how to make Flower Crowns but he will only do those on special occasions.

Azusa and Christine both like going to the Garden a lot. They love taking walks together, holding hands, and enjoying the beautiful view of the different colors of the roses.

Roses are a huge symbol of their relationship.

The reason he doesn't call her “Eve” is because Yui Komori is in my story. She is the only true Eve. I did not want to replace Yui with Christine for the Eve Tittle. So I came up with another plan instead. Yui in this story her Diaboy choice is Ayato. (They are my favorite Ship) 🤭

Yui and Christine become good friends and you will see lots of interactions between them in the story.

So there is no reason for Azusa to call Christine “Eve” when she's not Eve.

Karlheinz has a different plan for Christine. He personally chose her. But I won't reveal that plan yet because it's a huge spoiler and a big character change. I'll probably reveal that plan in Maniac.

More information about their canon story and Ryoutei Academy. This will all be in another separate post.

~ Past Relationship ~ ⚠️

Before Azusa, Christine had a 4-year relationship with a guy from her hometown. His name is Mark. He was her first love.

Their first two years together was fantastic, and she was madly in love with him. But in their third year together everything changed. Mark started to be cold, he became verbally abusive to her. It was so bad to the point she started to believe his words. Making her feel worthless. They had lots of heated bad arguments. One time out of anger he almost raped her. He didn't succeed because someone knocked on his apartment door.

They continued this terrible relationship.

Christine even though she was unhappy she still loved him and tried to make it work. But nothing was good enough for Mark and he still continued to treat her like garbage.

One day he told her that he had been seeing someone new for a while now and that he wanted to start a serious relationship with that woman. He ends the relationship with Christine.

The fact that he was cheating behind her back, that he ended it first and moved on with someone else like she was nothing.

That broke her.

• From Picrew •

There will be Flashbacks of this topic in Love Planted a Rose, and the asshole Ex will make his appearance in Maniac.

Love Planted a Rose, Masterpost.

Admin Note:

If you read up here, thank you! I did try to not make this extremely long.

If you decide to read her story with Azusa, you will get to know Christine's personality even more. And of course, you will see her relationship with Azusa bloom. 💗🔪🌹

I do plan soon to open my Ask box again and maybe to do some Interactions with other Ocs.

I don't do Rps here on Tumblr. Only on Discord. If you want to Rp with Christine, just send me a DM and we can plan.

Christine Aesthetics.

~ Flower Crown ~ Angel ~ Flowers ~

~ Lavender Haze ~ ~Christmas 2023 ~

~ Reading Azusa’s Love Letter

[gretahayes]

more core four repair shop au thoughts;

the fixing shop gives very much cosy small candy shop vibes despite it being like...two stories tall and a mix of a woodworking station, a metalworking station, a forge, a car mechanic, a tech store, a tailor store, a toy store, a library (tim and bart like to read and go through reading material fast, so they figured they may as well), and a sort of bakery.

(it's only a bakery when kon keeps everyone else out of the kitchen (yes they have a kitchen, keep up) for long enough to bake successfully. if he succeeds, you get whatever new recipe he tried out that day, or the old reliables. the old reliables come out when he's having a busy or rough day and wants something low-effort and comforting.)

(also, he doesn't sell what he bakes. he gives them out. unless you've got three hours to argue over paying, you're getting it for free.)

it's got a big winding staircase leading up to the second storey and just like a hole. smackdab in the middle of the store, so they can lean over the railing and yell to each other

it's also much bigger on the inside than the outside. how? magic. (when the core four says this, locals laugh and take it as a joke. it is not a joke. they now owe zatanna a favor)

new branches are constantly being added, and new stuff. one day they picked up crocheting and suddenly there was crocheted stuff for sale. anita popped by and for a few days, second hand kid toys/clothes were offered.

it's not a cafe but they've got a good coffee machine, a lot of mugs, the Good Coffee™, and all know how to make good drinks. if you've got a few bucks to spare, it's heavenly.

tim fixes cameras sometimes :) he's had a lot of cameras through his lifetime and marvels at antiques, well-loved cameras, and newer models all the same.

cassie fixes weapons! cosplayers and people who just have weapons on hand come to the shop, drop it off, and a day/week later their weapon is fixed.

if you come when cissie's visiting, she'll help you with your bow.

traya visits with flowers and is a very chatty and helpful salesperson for the day until she's got to go back home. she also refuses to "sell" stuff without collecting any money.

bart knows how to do almost everything so he does a lot of the work, but it keeps him busy and there's a lot of different stuff to be fixed so he never gets bored.

when asked by the titans or the jla members they're related to/mentor them how it's going, they usually only tell the hero stuff, which is wild because Small Town Nonsense, so the justice league is like oh my God???? are you guys okay over there?? are you sure you don't need help??

they're like no we're living our peaceful cottagecore dream literally fuck off??

justice league: you got dismembered yesterday??

core four: the demon was just a scared kid, plus they gave us our limbs back, it's literally fine.

justice league: we don't think-

core four: we're about plant a garden. fuck off.

the titans at least visit Sometimes (dick, donna and wally obviously, but they won't object to a visit from kori or vic or gar) so they know the core four are happy and mostly vibing so they don't have many protests.

sometimes they've got baby heroes their shop, jai and irey poking around, damian petting their emotional support dog (her name is buddy. she is not a trained emotional support dog but she is very good at listening. she's part golden retriever and part princess of hell. don't ask.), assorted speedsters and arrowfam teens coming and going.

their town (and shop because they've got an alien, a speedster, and a demigod. it's a cauldron of magic) is sort of at the point where the dimensional barrier is sort of...thin? so sometimes they've got other versions of baby heroes in their shop, just chilling until they can get them back home.

on one notable occasion, they've had a teen mar'i, a toddler jackson hyde, a pre-teen cerdian and robbie, and a six-year-old chris kent all at the same time. that's the most like parents they've ever felt.

tim knew they'd all end up crashing in one bed so he just bought like...an alaskan king size bed in one room then regular beds in the others. he was not going to lie to himself.

[aryastark-valarmorghulis]

I love making lists, so I decided to make an IWTV / VC Fic Rec 🖤(Psa: I tend to avoid Wips unless I trust the author 100% and I usually prefer one shots). 

I’m still fairly new to the fandom, so this will be an odd mix of old and new stories. In no particular order:

AMC IWTV

Loustat: 

Go Fetch God by bluebloodbruise (E): everyone knows and loves this one, and with good reason.

someone buy me roses by indigostohelit (E): catholic guilt and smut and dry humour, what more can you want.

wilting, withering by baberainbow @baberainbowao3 (E) and a simmering pot of resentments by louisredsuit @louisredsuit (E): emotional sex and angst set during ep. 5. On the same theme, also “You just need to put it somewhere” by  Komilk (E)

vein by vein by morian @nonagethimus (M): meditative and artsy, my fav kind of fic.

It must be by his death by undecimber @undecimber-of-joy (M): why Lestat must die + great prose.

Human AUs: pocketsun’s @thefairylights Coffee shop fic (E) and prouvaireafterdark’s @prouvaireafterdark Ethic Professor Louis (E)fic

Armand/Daniel:

Enough to Turn a Body to Stone by Nothing_But_Paisley (E) and platform double suede by inthebelltower (E): sex, drugs and rock’n roll in the 70s 

Perfection by bandedbulbussnarfblat @bandedbulbussnarfblat (E) & I love you like an alcoholic by quensty (E) & all I got left by flowerplots (E) & show you mine by circlegame @appleisms (M): armand seeking out middle-aged daniel to fuck and then making him forget afterwards era (cit. flowerplots)

VC Books

Armand/Daniel:

Literally everything by apoptoses but especially Pale Shelter (E, Devil’s Minion era) and Blood Sanation (E, post Prince Lestat)

The Lotus Eater by monstersinthecosmos (E): Devil’s Minion at its best/worst.

Loustat: A Private Exhibition by Emileesaurus (E): it’s a classic for very good reasons.

Note: I also like Lesmand and Loumand but, like I said, I’m still fairly new and I haven’t read that much. If you have any good recs, please send them to me 🖤

[olderthannetfic]

Re: "why doesn't anyone write taboo subject matter as taboo and morally complicated anymore?" anon, I can kind of explain.

Basically, people are dumb. They cannot tell fiction from reality. They will assume, if you write someone who's got mixed feelings about fucking a minor while he's an adult, that means you're an anti and you don't understand it's fiction and fiction can have whatever you want. They will transfer the guilt from the character onto you and then, sometimes, give you the most obnoxious condescending comments you can imagine. They act like you're 15 and need to be told it's okay for fictional characters to fuck. The character who's cold and closed-off in canon is initially cold and closed-off but then gradually falls for his dad? It must mean you, the author, are hesitant about writing incest and need someone to tell you The Good News.

This inability of people to understand that taboos are a kink and we're writing the kink because we're into the kink translates to some of the most, "um sweetie it's not real :) you can talk to me if you need to I'm here for you :)" shit I've ever seen. Which means posting it becomes an exercise in patience as you try very hard to explain that taboo = sexy for some of us and yes, ma'am, I understand you don't like that kink, no one is asking you to, yes I get that it's not healthy to have genuine guilty about fic but it's a kink, it's not the author's POV.

Meanwhile if I churn out some OOC drama-free "yes this 60 year old is fucking his 8 year old grandson but don't worry it's soft and gentle and sweet and there's no angst and they snuggle uwu" writing, I don't have to babysit the commenters (other than the usual "waaah kill yourself waaah" types, who will cry at everything on Earth).

It's also easier to churn out the underage incest equivalent of a fluffy coffee shop AU because I don't need to think 'how would Character A feel about this?' or 'how does B feel about hiding this' or anything. You just smoosh them together like Barbies and call it a day.

--

[lily-blue]

13 reasons why | reason no.9: the cupcakes are heavenly

☆ characters: baker!mingyu & food critic!you (Sooyoung - ‘97 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, slowburn ☆ summary: your love life consists of flavourful dishes, delicious desserts and your best friend’s stories about his relationship with the sweetest girl; that is, until Mingyu decides to add something luscious into the mix ☆ words: 12,9k ☆ massive thank you: to @dat-town​ ♥ for everything! ☆ taglist: @soobin-chois​

➼ chapter index

Food, especially sweets, had always had a special place in your heart, because as soon as you had grown old enough to understand your parents’ relationship wasn’t ideal, they had become your safe place. Shortcakes, cupcakes, croissants - when they were made expertly, they could put a smile on your face even on the most emotionally draining days as if they had indeed been made with that one magical secret ingredient that you were desperately missing around your parents: love.

Becoming a food critic had been a semi-conscious decision that had become your passion in university. It had started small: with silly albeit professional posts on your Tumblr blog under the sarcastic nickname Joy where you had uploaded aesthetic pictures of the food you had tried, given stars to the places in different categories with a few additional words to express your opinion and credited the experience to the restaurants and coffee shops by mentioning their name and address.

When your curt comments had turned into few-paragraph-long articles was lost on you. But you still remember the day when your blog’s popularity had skyrocketed and you realised that you could make enough money from your hobby to never have to look for a job that’s related to your major: boring finances. It had been the day you had posted your first short video on Youtube with your article’s link in the description below. People had loved your sarcasm and the dynamic pacing of your edit. They had loved it so much and so actively that sponsors had started to email you about collaborations and the platform paid you for creating content. 

It felt surreal up to this day, but you had gotten more than fifteen minutes of fame.

You were still as hated as loved: truly, at the peak of your career.

Fancy restaurant and small diner owners alike kept requesting reviews from you so that they could boost their popularity, but you rarely gave the time of day to those emails, because they made you feel as though you were buyable despite never taking their money. Therefore, even if those places piqued your interest, you simply jotted their names down in your notebook and gave them a try months later when the pressure to write them a good review wasn’t palpable anymore. You didn’t do well with pushy people.

Except when that pushy person was your best friend, Felix, who couldn’t shut up about his new favourite coffee shop close to his girlfriend’s workplace. Coffee Carat was a constant in your conversations ever since Yewon had started her internship in March and you finally got to a point where you thought you had to see for yourself whether their cupcakes were really as otherworldly as Felix claimed them to be or else there was a huge possibility you would snap at him. And there were only a few things you hated more than fighting with your loved ones.

The morning rush’s buzzing noises were pleasantly lively when you walked up to the counter in your red high heels and your steps came to a halt at the end of the shorter line. You didn’t mind the crowd nor the extra time you spent in the shop waiting, because you had chosen this time of the day on purpose. You wanted to see how well the baristas worked when customers had just a tad bit less patience and so far you weren’t disappointed in their professionalism.

You offered a grateful smile to the barista who took your order and carried your tray to one of the empty tables in the back of the customer area, pleased with the interior design and the amount of sunlight the voile curtains let into the coffee shop. Even with purposely taking the chair that was facing the window, you weren’t blinded by the light, which definitely earned the place a couple of brownie points. You liked places that took their time to cater to all of their customers.

Comfortably seated, you took your phone out of your long coat’s pocket and took a few takes of the pretty decoration on the curtains, your table and the cupcakes you had bought. You made sure the videos had similar starting and ending points so that the transitions would be smoother and more natural in the final product. Then,  you were ready for the taste test.

‘Excuse me!’ A pleasant voice, albeit a bit unsure, addressed you and you put your chocolate cupcake back on the porcelain plate before you turned towards your intruder. It wasn’t hard to recognize the coffee shop’s uniform in the man’s outfit, but that just made you confused. You knew for a fact that making videos at places that were open for the public wasn’t against the law until there were no concrete signs that asked you not to take pictures or record videos. Had you missed a sign like that?

You were about to apologise and ask for special permission if that was the case, when the man shot you a small smile and bowed his head respectfully.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was just wondering whether we could take a picture together? I’m a big fan of your blog and I just… had to give it a try,’ the barista was rambling and while it wasn’t the first time someone recognized you, it never ceased to amaze you how some people turned so shy in your presence when they were clearly brave enough to walk up to you. You could have never done the same when it came to your idols, but it was true that you weren’t in the same league as Taemin and Junho from 2PM.

‘It’s okay. We can take a photo,’ you agreed easily, never one to say no for such easy requests despite your sarcastic personality. Stealing a glance at the counter behind the man’s back, you actually appreciated that he had waited until the lines had gotten shorter.

You decided to stand up so that the barista - Seokmin as his nametag suggested - didn’t have to bend his back too much and took a couple of different pictures with his own phone until there was at least one in which you looked presentable. Not that you asked him to delete the rest. It didn’t matter to you, really, but your society was fixated on beauty standards and you wanted him to be able to share this experience on social media in case he wanted to. For that, he needed a good photo.

‘But you being my fan won’t affect my review. I’m not this easy to charm,’ you stated with a pinch of playfulness in your voice, facial expression stoic. You obviously meant every word, but Felix liked to tease you about how unintentionally rude you could come off whenever you were overly honest, so you tried to lighten your tone lately when breaking down the obvious. You weren’t sure it was working. A part of you felt it made you sound ridiculous, but well… practice made perfect.

‘Of course! You really shouldn’t be,’ the barista agreed with a wide smile and you wondered how some people made acting friendly look so easy. Not that you were a bad friend material. If anyone, your best friend could vouch for you that you were caring and understanding under the surface. But smiling at someone you had never met before so brightly? You could have never. ‘And I’m not worried about your review. Mingyu’s cupcakes are seriously the best,’ he said before the female barista called his name from behind the counter and he bowed his head again, grateful for the pictures you had taken.

You kept your gaze on Seokmin as he jogged up to his coworker and helped the girl with the coffee machine. You watched as he joked around with her effortlessly while a part of his focus was always on the task at hand and shook your head before you could have gone into a detailed analysis on how ineffective it made his work. It would have been a useless train of thought and you had come here to work anyway.

So you sat back on your chair and took the chocolate cupcake, you had been meaning to try, in your hands. It smelled delicious, a little citrusy, which was an achievement in itself taking the intensity of the dark cocoa powder you assumed they must have used when making it. The tiny card behind the display had suggested that it had an additional, orange flavour, but you had already tried a dozen of chocolate cupcakes in your life. Finding the balance between their rich, characteristic aroma and other, milder flavours was harder than it seemed.

One bite from the dessert was enough to acknowledge it was good; whoever had made the recipe was talented. However, the execution was almost amateur, and you didn’t understand why this made you disappointed when it shouldn’t have mattered. Coffee Carat was nowhere near the first coffee shop on your long list that failed to back up the hype. Still, you had more faith in Felix and his love for quality cupcakes and brownies.

Having been taught to never leave your food on your plate just because it didn’t reach your expectations, you finished your cupcakes in peace while you answered a couple of asks and comments on your social media accounts. Then, you left with a polite smile and the thought that you needed to take your best friend to a better coffee shop on your next friendly date on the weekend. Maybe you could have bought something sweet and creamy for his girlfriend, too, so that neither of them lowered their bar.

Food was self-love. Especially with desserts, no one should have made compromises.

You were used to the amount of notes, mentions, asks and messages you usually received on the day you posted a new review. You had learned it in the hard way not to be too hang up on the hate comments in your comments section for the sake of your mental health - people were more brutal in the Youtube community, a significant downside of expanding your brand and advertising your blog on another platform - and while it would have been a lie to say you had a foolproof method to scroll through the hate, now you were able to stop reading those lines when it became clear they had been written with malintention. You could focus on the good: the fun remarks, the constructive observations and the appreciation you received.

You tried out low quality places, so your followers didn’t have to and discovered rare gems, so that they could visit them knowing their food and drinks were worth the money.

Receiving demanding texts wasn’t a new thing, either. It was almost ridiculous how many people wanted you to change your opinion about a restaurant or café either for the worse or the better just to justify their preferences. You never wasted your time on these requests; that would have gone against your principles. And still, a week later, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, you found yourself in a situation when you couldn’t ignore the reappearing name in your spams anymore: Kim Mingyu. 

Every damn message you got that week was about Kim Mingyu.

Thus, when you saw that a new Tumblr blog with the default profile picture of a triangle sent you a private message, you opened it and typed out an answer.

milkgyuandcookies: “please, you have to come back to the coffee shop again!” milkgyuandcookies: “i’m telling you we have the best cupcakes” milkgyuandcookies: “it’s all a misunderstanding! i’m begging you 🥺🥺” you: “i wrote my review about the cupcakes i purchased at your coffee shop, so i can’t see any misunderstandings or mistakes here” you: “i rarely visit the same place twice, let alone in such a short period of time” you: “i’m sorry, but you had your chance” milkgyuandcookies: “then make an exception, please!! you can’t just write a review like this about my cupcakes when those weren’t even my cupcakes 😭😭 have some mercy” you: “you sold those cupcakes, i wrote a review about them. next time don’t sell them if you’re not satisfied with how they turned out” milkgyuandcookies: “aren’t you listening? those aren’t my cupcakes!!” you: “well that’s not my problem. i’m not going back” milkgyuandcookies: “just this once, please!🙏🙏i’m on my knees” you: “i’m blocking you” milkgyuandcookies: “no!!” milkgyuandcookies: “wait!! 😭😭” milkgyuandcookies: “come back!! 🥺🥺”

You clicked on the three dots next to his username and blocked him like you promised before he could have kept going on about how you should have given their coffee shop a chance to redeem themselves despite your definite no. Whether those cupcakes had been baked by him personally or not shouldn’t have mattered. They had given their name to those sweets when they had let their customers buy them, so it wasn’t your fault that you had chosen a cupcake that tasted average. You didn’t see why you should have revisited their place because of a few pleading emojis and a half-assed excuse.

You weren’t heartless - it just wasn’t easy to coax sympathy out of you with pleading emojis. They had taken a poorly calculated risk and lost when you had picked a dessert that had not reached the promised quality. End of the story.

You spent the next two hours blocking every blog that messaged you about Kim Mingyu and another half an hour phrasing a curt answer to a polite ask that claimed Coffee Carat deserved more stars. Then, you disconnected your phone from your wifi and spent the rest of the day in your bed, binge-watching the Chinese drama you had found last week. Wang Yibo’s gamer character might have driven you up the wall when he started to neglect his girlfriend because of his mentally unstable ex, but the reappearing cliffhangers did their job wonderfully, taking your mind off your followers’ obsession with Kim Mingyu.

His cupcakes or not, what you had tasted didn’t deserve your praises and you stood by your opinion.

The original plan had been to celebrate Felix’s promotion at his favourite high-end restaurant, but that place was full until the end of August, so you had ended up making a reservation for his birthday instead and invited him over, promising the blondie an inexhaustible supply of doenjang jjigae and permission to choose the movie you would watch. It was the second best thing you could give him, you were both aware of it, because your tastes in movies were pretty different and most of the time he was powerless against your arguments. You prayed he wouldn’t make you regret each one of your life decisions - such as letting him sit next to you at the American diner you had first met or befriending him - and make you watch something that left you with no other choice but to sleep with the lights on. You still couldn’t get over your unreasonable fear of rollercoasters because of your Final Destination marathon and that had been ages ago.

‘Hm, it smells delicious,’ your best friend’s voice came from the front door along with those struggling noises that coaxed a genuine chuckle out of you without witnessing his battle with his shoes. His habit to tie his laces so tightly it became impossible to get rid of his sneakers without his hands was beyond you, especially because his hands were almost always full. 

‘Better! It tastes delicious,’ you shouted back and turned off the stove with a snicker the same moment Felix finally emerged from the hall and walked past you to put his plastic bag on the counter and wash his hands by the kitchen sink.

As you two had previously agreed, he had taken a small detour to bring something sweet for dessert because while this jjigae recipe was your pride, you couldn’t bake to save your life and after numerous disheartening attempts in the past, you would have rather not given it another try at such a short notice.

‘What did you bring? Shortcakes? Pancakes?’ You asked while you stepped to your cabinet and took out half a dozen tiny bowls for your side dishes. The yellow radish in the lowest compartment in your fridge had been fermented by you a couple of weeks ago, but the napa cabbage and cucumber kimchis were new additions to your poor collection that you had purchased in the morning at the best organic food market downtown.

Although you couldn’t resist stealing a few bites here and there while you were distributing the side dishes, you did manage to leave the volcano steamed eggs untouched, which in itself was an achievement. Therefore, you let out a proud hum when you scanned the dining table, looking for important details you might have forgotten about.

‘Cupcakes,’ Felix said as he also opened your cabinet and fished out two inox rice bowls with their lids for the rice you had left in the rice cooker. Oh! How could you have forgotten about the rice? It was almost as important as your main dish.

You raised a brow without much elegance and watched as your best friend made himself at home in your humble flat.

‘They better be good,’ you threatened, although your voice was more playful than anything. It might have been over a month that you had set foot in Coffee Carat, but your friendly banters about those damned cupcakes and what delicious meant for the both of you had been a constant in your life ever since.

The pseudo-outraged scoff that left Felix’s mouth was the only retort you got, so you counted it as a win and didn’t drag out the topic. Instead, you put the jjigae in the middle of the table and let your friend dive in first although you were older than him. You were celebrating him, after all. And you had never been too keen on following conservative sentiments, anyway, like showing unconditional respect towards your elders and relatives. Your relationship with your parents had pretty much predetermined your thoughts on such matters. Thus, ever since you could have remembered, you appreciated one’s effort more than their age. Obviously, it had caused you headaches during your studies, but without a strict supervisor or a boss, it was almost too easy to live by your own rules. Even if it meant, some people called you rude and a disgraceful brat.

While eating, you listened to the blond boy’s endless chatter about the company dinner at which they had celebrated his promotion with his coworkers: how the other candidate, a loud guy named Yuksun who came from old money, had gotten wasted because he couldn’t have handled the decision. There were tears in your eyes from all that laughing when Felix’s story reached the climax, Yuksun’s futile attempts to drink Felix under the table being a comedy at its finest with the guy calling up his mom to take him home.

Since all you could have bragged about in exchange was the speed at which you had finished the tteokbokki you had ordered on Monday and the series you had almost finished the same day, you asked your friend about his girlfriend, because for 1) you genuinely liked how sweet she was and you had the habit of living your non-existent love life through their relationship and 2) you preferred the role of the attentive listener while eating.

‘She said it’s a surprise, but I’m pretty sure we’ll have a picnic,’ Felix said with a little laugh before he went into more details about Yewon’s lovely idea for their own, private celebration next week as she had needed to go home to Busan due to a family emergency you didn’t plan to pry about. It clearly wasn’t your business.

As always when you spent time with your best friend, your laugh was a bit more honest, your personality a bit more dorky and you couldn’t stay pissed at him for longer than two minutes when he chose a movie you would have never even considered watching without him being around. You were hiding behind the blondie’s shoulder, drumming with your legs out of fear and frustration while you reached for one of the cupcakes he had on a metal tray atop of his lap. You had sworn you wouldn’t have tried them until the movie had a calmer vibe, but you were already halfway through it and it showed no signs of less psychological torture.

Since your eyes were half-closed and the only source of light in the living room was your TV, you didn’t bother with checking which flavour you put your hand on. Instead, you peeled off the cupcake liner with one swift movement and took a huge bite from it as though Felix had ever restored your faith in his taste. 

Cinnamon and orange mixed perfectly atop of your tongue and the fluffy texture of the dough melted in your mouth. You needed to take another bite and one more to make sure your taste buds weren’t messing with you. The dessert your friend had brought was just this good.

‘Heol! These are heaven!’ You moaned a bit breathless when you tried a different flavour and it tasted just as good: the white chocolate and the raspberry complementing each other instead of fighting for dominance. You found yourself hoping Felix had brought dark chocolate ones, too, while you were simultaneously wondering which additional flavour would have balanced out the bitter aftertaste. Mango? Banana?

‘I know, right? Like I said, my favourite place,’ he bragged with a cheeky smile as he picked a random flavour and shoved the cupcake into your mouth. It tasted like salted caramel and reminded you of summer vacations when you had finally had enough money and freedom to visit the countryside on your own.

‘Oh, yeah? Where did you get these from?’ You asked between two bites. You narrowed your eyes and hovered over the tray, so that you could make a better judgement on the flavours of the remaining cupcakes. They all smelled delicious and two of them had that unmistakable, chocolatey aroma to them that made your mouth water.

‘Coffee Carat, obviously,’ Felix said and you snapped your head in his direction so abruptly, you headbutted his chin on accident, eliciting a groan from him with your carelessness.

In any other situation, the apology would have already rolled off your lips, but the revelation closed up your throat and made your tongue feel heavy. Confusion and disbelief knitted your brows together as you took another tentative bite from the cupcake in your hand. Obviously, it tasted nothing like the ones you had tried back in the coffee shop and suddenly the private messages you had gotten after you had posted your review flooded your mind.

Your fingertips dug into the soft texture of your dessert and the dough stuck under your nails, clinging into you like the memories of Mingyu’s whining that it hadn’t been his cupcakes you had tasted, that he wanted another chance to redeem his worth.

You didn’t notice how hard your teeth were tearing into your chapped lower lip until the damage was done and you could taste your own, coppery blood in your mouth. Fuck. Why were you feeling sorry for how you had replied to him when it didn’t change a thing. They had sold those cupcakes to you. And they were nothing special.

Your concerns must have been visible due to the deep furrows on your forehead and the small pout on your lips because the first thing your messy mind successfully took in was your best friend nudging you with a poorly concealed smile on his face. You straightened your posture and leaned your back against the backrest of your couch.

‘Is that guilt on your face?’

It was. However, you refused to acknowledge it out loud. That would have meant you had made a mistake when you had written your criticism, that blocking Mingyu hadn’t been the right thing to do and a rational part of you knew you did nothing wrong. Sure, lots of places, from high-end restaurants to family businesses, had a star chef or baker they advertised their menus with - especially when these people were not only talented, but handsome as well -, however, it didn’t necessarily mean they prepared all the food on their own. In fact! It was rather rare that one person was behind all the delicious creations. Which meant it was their own responsibility that each and every employee reached the bar.

‘Tsk, why would it be? I wrote about the food they served me,’ you retorted and stuffed the damned chocolate cupcake into your mouth out of spite so that Felix had no chance to taste it. Not that, in the back of your head, you weren’t aware that he must have been a regular at the coffee shop, hence could have tried all of these flavours out already.

To show your friend how determined you were to put an end to this conversation, you steeled yourself and kept your eyes on the screen even during the most disturbing scenes. You didn’t cave in when Felix tried to stare a hole into your temple with what you assumed was his best kicked puppy eyes. You didn’t seek shelter in the crook of his neck even when you felt like you were at your limit. You stayed strong, stubborn as a mule, and finished all the cupcakes on his tray as some sort of childish punishment that he let you have.

Damn. They tasted so much better. You hated the perfect balance of flavours and the fluffy yet filling texture with every fibre in your body - you did so almost as fervently as you loved each bite. You were clearly and unequivocally screwed.

You weren’t stupid. You might not have known every teeny tiny detail of Felix’s motives, but you should have been extremely oblivious to not realise he was trying to make you go back to Coffee Carat with the amount of cupcakes he had been bringing to your friendly dates lately. Even when you had been supposed to go out and grab some coffee at a different place, he had managed to bring you some of the sweet desserts for later and acted like it was perfectly normal to walk into a café and order brownies with another place’s cupcakes in your hand.

Slowly but surely he had been getting on your nerves until the situation had gotten to a point where you had needed to confront him whether he had accepted money from those people in exchange for his help. The accusation had earned an offended scoff from the blondie, but you had had every right to be suspicious, so you had refused to apologise.

Instead, you were thinking of ways he could have made it up to you when fueled by Felix’s persistence that festered into your own, growing guilt, you crossed the threshold of Coffee Carat for a second time, barely three months after your first visit.

While you were waiting for your turn in front of the counter, you gave yourself a pep talk and brainstormed about how you should have recorded your video differently since the interior design barely changed over the months. It more or less took your mind off the unfamiliarity of the situation and the possibility of another disappointment.

‘Hey! You came back!’ The barista who had approached you last time said, his smile so big and bright that it made you believe he still liked you and your articles despite your opinion about his workplace. His attitude made you grateful; you made a mental note to mention his professionalism in your follow-up criticism. ‘Are you here to try out our seasonal specials? They’re made with peaches.’

You stole a quick glance at the displays: all those cold drinks and sweets that were made with peaches, but still shook your head.

‘No, actually I’m here to—’

‘You!’ Someone exclaimed and you turned your head in the direction from where you heard the voice on instinct just how Seokmin did.

The man whose index finger was pointing at you was almost too tall to stand on the threshold comfortably, but somehow he managed even with his chin held high and his spine unnaturally straight. The flickering flames in his chocolate brown eyes dressed your arms in goosebumps, but you stood your ground and resisted the urge to look behind your back and check whether he was talking to someone else.

‘Me?’ You asked, breaking the momentary silence, eyebrows furrowed more because of your confusion than his intimidating aura.

‘Yes, you!’ The man claimed and let his hand fall back by his side before he took a few loose steps towards you and grabbed your wrist so naturally like he had every right to touch you even though the two of you had never met before.

Later, when your nosy best friend would ask you where did your survival instincts go when a random guy dragged you to the closest empty table without your consent, you would put all the blame on how freaking ridiculous this whole situation was. You wouldn’t admit that his grip was actually gentle or that he smelled like raspberry and chocolate, one of your all time favourite combinations. The latter two were obviously irrelevant.

‘Wait here!’ He commanded leaving you no choice but to comply because of how quick he was to turn his back on you as soon as he pulled the chair out for you and pushed you down on the hard, wooden furniture. You had never been so lost for words in your entire life.

As the shock started to slowly wear off, you contemplated whether you should have stood up and finished your order at the counter, but considering that Seokmin had done nothing to save you from this man and they were wearing the same uniform, you assumed it was for the best if you did as he asked you. Worst case scenario, you could still ask for the manager or make a complaint directly to the owner. Nothing too extreme that would have gotten him fired, but something that would have made him think twice before he did anything like this to another customer in the future.

You were a strong believer that manners should have been of the utmost importance in every establishment in the catering industry.

It was the sharp sound of a metal tray colliding with the top of your table that pulled you back to the present, the delicious smell of freshly baked cupcakes only registering in you a couple of seconds later. In front of you, there were at least a dozen of different flavours from peach and white chocolate through bananas and cinnamon to raspberry and mint. The amount of saliva that gathered in your mouth at the heavenly sight wasn’t even funny.

Caution being thrown out the window, you acted on autopilot when you reached out for one with melted chocolate chips on top and took a huge bite from it. Good gracious! It tasted just as good as everything else Felix had brought for your friendly dates.

‘Here! It’s on the house,’ a familiar voice said and you shifted your gaze from the iced white mocha to the person who had placed it in front of you, worry clear and evident in his words. ‘Please, forgive him for acting so disrespectfully.’

Seokmin looked like he was about to throw up (or throw fists, you really weren’t sure) when his eyes accidentally met yours and he bent his back so quickly and deeply, you were afraid he would hit his forehead into his knees because of the momentum. 

‘I’m not acting disrespectfully. She’s the one who blocked me for no reason,’ the giant said, proving your assumptions right. He was an employee at the shop: the baker who was praised by many and defended by even more because of his delicious creations. As childish as he acted, you had to admit that a part of you could understand why he was so upset about your article. It mocked his worth and hurt his ego although you still stood by your opinion. It was on them that they had sold those average quality desserts.

‘Dude, shut up,’ Seokmin hissed, the action so raw and human that you had to swallow back an amused chuckle. Their friendly bickering in the customer area, right in front of a customer no less, was highly unprofessional, but somehow you couldn’t mind their actions. You should have done so, you always did, but their duo was more entertaining than anything else, so you let them be for a couple of more seconds before you cleared your throat.

‘It’s okay. I appreciate your kindness, but I would rather pay for this,’ you said with a small tilt of your head. You lifted your mug a bit higher, then pointed your index finger at the tray on the table. ‘And the cupcakes as well.’

‘You don’t…’ Seokmin started, but you dismissed his worries with a firm set of mocha-tinted lips and a pair of eyes that accepted no further objection.

‘I insist,’ you added before you took another sip, satisfied with the silence that followed your statement. You watched as the barista’s gaze met his coworker’s for a brief moment before he nodded in a tentative manner, reassuring you that in case you finished, you wouldn’t have to wait in line to pay until it was him behind the counter, and turned his back on you two.

Knowing well that you wouldn’t have jumped the queue even if you hadn’t had the entire day for yourself, you stared at his back while leaving for a tad bit longer than it was necessary, then turned back to the giant with a raised eyebrow. 

‘So?’ He asked as soon as he had all your attention and you took another bite from the dessert for good measure, as though you hadn’t been addicted to his cupcakes since the day Felix and you had celebrated your best friend’s promotion.

‘They’re one of the best cupcakes I’ve ever tried,’ you admitted, blunt and raw in the way you formed your opinion, which earned a goofy smile from the baker. His sharp canines and naturally rosy lips did something to your head; you almost bit back the rest of your words just to protect his smile, but the realisation what you had been about to do horrified you enough to sober you up and push you forwards. ‘But you have to understand that I still can’t give this place a ten even though it might deserve a correction,’ you claimed, turning back ahead, so that you faced the table, at the first sight of an ugly twitch in the corner of his mouth.

Considering what you had already seen from his personality, you had a vague idea what to expect and with his darkening facial expression and pitched voice, the man did not prove you wrong.

‘What? But you’ve just said it yourself that—’

You lifted your empty hand next to your head to make Mingyu shut up before he could have started a tantrum. You had already known he felt wronged, you didn’t need the reminder.

‘Your cupcakes are exceptional, but this place clearly has employees whose aren’t,’ you said, not letting your arm fall back on your lap until you were at least eighty percent sure that he understood your reasoning.

Mingyu’s pouty lips and sad eyes made him look like a giant puppy who had been kicked out from home and your heart clenched when you saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other while he was struggling with his thoughts. The furrows on his forehead made it clear that he desperately wanted to come up with a good comeback that could have potentially changed your mind, but to his misfortune, there was no such thing. You spoke straight facts no one could argue with.

‘I didn’t even want a baker’s assistant, it’s all Rina noona’s fault,’ he mumbled, his complaint quiet enough to make you question whether these words had been meant to be spoken in the first place.

In the end, you didn’t ask for a more detailed explanation nor did you make comments on how he should have trained his assistant better instead of putting the blame on a third party. You simply took another cupcake in your hand and opted for letting him know with your dismissive body language that your decision was final.

Luckily, the afternoon rush was about to start and the more people walked into the coffee shop, the less baked goods stayed behind the displays. Therefore, the man had to go back to the kitchen and leave you alone with your cupcakes despite the desperation in each one of his movements that made it painfully obvious that he didn’t want to give up yet.

Without his overbearing gaze suffocating you, you could finish your food in a good mood and record a few videos for your channel as well before you walked up to the line in front of the counter and paid once it was your turn.

It might have gone against your principles to visit a place so soon just because your criticism made them upset, but these cupcakes… they were worth bending your ways for. Even if you refused to redeem their name entirely.

You had never been at Coffee Carat with Felix before. Not because you refused to go back to the coffee shop after your second visit, but because you liked to discover new gems during your friendly dates and the blondie had never complained about it so far.

However, when one of the chefs you had given a bad review decided to mess with your tires and fuck up your car, that was where your best friend took you after his shift to take your mind off your horrible day.

‘No way man! Is she your girlfriend?’ The blond barista asked as soon as his gaze fell on you and Felix and you furrowed your brows in confusion because of two totally different things: 1) since when was your best friend so close with the employees of this place that they used not only informal speech with him, but threw their manners out the window when they talked to him? And 2) how could this guy mistake you for Yewon when your personalities and your preferences in clothes and colours couldn’t have been more different?

A part of you was convinced that the couple was a regular at the shop, hence the only logical explanation you could have come to was that this barista was either a newbie or somehow he never worked when those two walked into Coffee Carat together.

‘Best friend,’ came the correction from your right and the mortified look on the barista’s face made up for his mistake generously. His red cheeks and crimson ears, his dilating eyes tugged on the corners of your lips and coaxed an amused scoff out of you.

‘I’ll have an iced white mocha and a brownie, please,’ you decided to order to spare all three of you from embarrassment and turned towards Felix with the intent to ask him whether he wanted to carry out the whole cheering-you-up agenda and pay for your drink or you should have fished your wallet out of your bag. 

‘No cupcakes?’ The boy asked before you could have spoken and you pressed your lips into a firm line, not pondering over the question for longer than three seconds. Felix was right. You had had a terrible encounter with a maniac earlier that day. You deserved the extra dessert.

Humming in contemplation, you eyed the cupcakes behind the display and pointed at the pile that was placed behind the plastic card I Feel Peachy written on it.

‘And two of those,’ you asked, feeling a bit better already at the sight of the generous amount of chocolate chips sprinkled atop of the cupcakes. You hoped they were made by Mingyu and not the giant baker’s assistant as you were rather sceptical that he had trained his subordinate to perfection in the past few weeks.

‘That’s my girl,’ Felix cheered and asked for a matcha latte and a brownie, swiping his card like he was a billionaire.

Only later, when you were sitting in the customer area, teasing your best friend because of his sugar daddy vibe, did you get to know that so close to the closing time every baked good was sold for a lower price. It surprised you, pleasantly so, and you couldn’t have helped but think that it was very nice of the owner to prioritise not having too much leftover instead of money. After all, those pastries they failed to sell by the time they closed the shop couldn’t have been sold the following morning. They had to be thrown out according to the local regulations.

You were thinking of buying some more cakes to support the shop and their attempt to reduce food waste when someone pushed the front door open with such force, the wood crashed into the wall with an alarming thud. Your best friend and you - along with the other six customers in the coffee shop - snapped your head in the intruder’s direction, shocked by the petite girl’s dishevelled hair and tense body language. She looked like she had come here to commit murder and you had never been more relieved in your life that it hadn’t been you who had rubbed another person the wrong way.

‘Do you kno—’

‘Where is he?’ She demanded, pointing at the blond barista accusatively as though he had already refused to answer her question when in reality he just seemed too speechless to form a coherent sentence. You felt bad for him, but you weren’t sure you had any right to confront this girl - not to mention that you had enough drama in your life with a vengeful chef who had promised to make you regret ruining his career. Considering that he hadn’t been fired after giving you food poisoning, you were convinced that he was stretching it.

You lowkey wondered whether this girl was acting like a drama queen as well or her attitude was justified. Not that you supported screaming in public under any circumstances.

‘Excuse me, miss! Who are you looking for?’ The blond barista asked as soon as he collected himself and you leaned your elbow on the table so that you could have rested your chin atop of your palm. Although his reaction time was definitely on the slower side of the scale, you were genuinely impressed by his manners; you were sure you would have failed miserably if you had been the one who had to handle a cyclone like this girl.

‘That good-for-nothing Kim Mingyu, who else?’ She spat, not giving a damn about the man who walked into the coffee shop after her or the old woman who tried to make an order, but failed to gain the barista’s attention because of her tantrum.

You watched as a handsome guy with round, nerdy glasses rushed out of the staff only area with an anxious-looking girl behind his back and wondered when she had disappeared behind the curtains to find the manager because you admittedly hadn’t paid too much attention to her presence. You had been too engrossed in your own world and the wide variety of desserts you could have chosen from.

In your defence, you were sure most customers didn’t care about the staff of these kinds of places, only that one employee who was serving them.

‘I’m not leaving until he grows some balls and speaks to me!’ The girl claimed angrily when the guy said something to her in a voice too quiet to be audible from where you were sitting. You lifted your drink in front of your lips and took a small sip, just as shocked as Felix was when the girl pushed the manager aside and hit the counter with her palms. Your bewildered gaze met your best friend’s eyes for a sheer second before you both turned back towards the ongoing drama. ‘I know you’re in there,’ she pointed at the door close to the counter. ‘Come out you self-centred bastard or else I’ll drag you out myself.’

While everyone was waiting for the baker to make an appearance - you saw two teenage boys recording the happenings with their phones -, you recalled your first encounter with the giant, puppy-like boy and wondered what he could have potentially done to piss this tiny girl off so badly. Considering that he had completely disregarded your personal space last time, you had a couple of ideas, but for some reason none of those sounded too believable, not even in your head. Sure, he was headstrong and whiny, but would he have hurt her on purpose?

You shook your head. It didn’t matter what you thought. You didn’t know him.

Still, you sucked in your breath when the baker walked out the door with a piece of cloth on his shoulder. He looked like a mess: there was flour on his apron and shirt, his hair stuck out in numerous directions and he also had some dirt on his chin although you couldn’t have told what exactly. Maybe some chocolate cream or cinnamon syrup.

‘I’m here. Can you please stop making a scene?’ Mingyu asked in a surprisingly icy tone that complemented his rigid posture perfectly. His arms were linked in front of his chest in a way that highlighted his muscles and you had to take another sip from your mocha to cool down before your imagination could have run wild. So what if he had looked like someone who hit up the gym frequently? Trouble was clearly written all over his face with capital letters.

‘Why? Does this feel humiliating to you? Am I humiliating you?’ The girl asked with a scoff, tilting her head to the right to mock him with her body language, too. You knew the type: she was petty and ready to give back tenfold whatever Mingyu had done to her. ‘Then you finally know how I felt when I was waiting for you for hours in that restaurant where even breathing in the wrong way is a crime,’ she raised her voice even more, enlightening everyone on what had hurt her so much and getting different reactions from those who were witnessing their (pretty much one-sided) fight. Looking around in the customer area, you saw your best friend shaking his head in disappointment and a boy having enough of the drama and turning back to his laptop. One girl pointed at Mingyu while whispering to the person next to her. You just drank some more. You had been to those kinds of restaurants dozens of times. You had no doubt the experience had been humiliating. Especially if it had been her first time at a place like that where even the waitresses wore tailored uniforms. ‘They had to send me away so that people who actually went there to order more than a glass of wine could eat,’ the girl spat, her frustration slurring her words a little at the end of her monologue.

You felt sorry for her even though you thought she was overreacting.

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve already told grams I’m not interested in going on random blind dates she and her friends set up for me,’ Mingyu said, not taking his eyes off the girl he had stood up intentionally or unintentionally. He claimed it was their grandmothers who had organised the date, but he had never said he hadn’t known when and where he should have shown up. Did he have the girl’s number saved? Did he know her name?

‘Not interested?’ She scoff-laughed. ‘You think you’re so amazing because you’re tall? Your skin looks like you were sweating on a farm your whole life, pathetic, really. I wouldn’t want a second date with your sorry ass even if you begged,’ she said with her index finger pointed at the baker. She acted more pathetic than a minute before if that had been possible.

Objectively speaking, everyone must have been aware that Mingyu’s beautiful, tanned skin didn’t fit your country’s ridiculous beauty standards, but this was the core problem with how a lot of people in South Korea looked at beauty. It should have been a subjective matter, not a long list with endless items everyone tried to tick off.

You genuinely believed that the boy’s natural, sun-kissed skin looked a lot healthier than the pale complexion many people desired to have and tried to achieve with make-up.

‘Excuse me, miss,’ the manager raised his voice while taking a step to the left to protect the baker from the girl as though there hadn’t been a big enough distance between the two. ‘We don’t tolerate degrading comments like this in our coffee shop. I need to ask you to leave or else I’ll call the police,’ he gave the petite girl a fair warning, something you weren’t sure she deserved, but knew it was necessary.

‘The police? On what grounds?’ She asked back, shifting a part of her attention to the person who was talking to her without really looking at the young man. Instead, she put her other hand on her hip, too, shaking her head.

‘You’re disturbing the peace, harassing the employees and as of now, you’re banned from the shop, which means you’re trespassing,’ the manager listed, making you furrow your brows in question. You might have done a detailed research on media law when you had started to gain fame on the internet just to avoid some unwanted, nasty consequences, but you had obviously never studied law. You had no idea whether she really committed trespassing if she refused to leave, but the manager sounded confident enough for you to consider it as a valid option. The question was whether she believed him as well or was willing to take a chance.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

You sucked in a breath and leaned a little closer to the commotion subconsciously. This girl was clearly furious, most probably because she had felt humiliated in that restaurant, but was it really worth being called the cops on?

‘Seungkwan, call the police, please. Tell them that—’

‘Screw you! All of you,’ she screamed into the manager’s face, pointing at the blond barista, Mingyu and everyone who were watching the drama. Then, she pushed the manager’s broad shoulder with her hand, fueled with frustration, and turned her back on everyone, so that she could speed-walk to the double door.

The straw between your teeth was so damaged, you could barely use it anymore when your gaze loitered over the employees a tad bit longer than it should have and your eyes met the baker’s chocolate orbs. You turned your head away so quickly like he burnt, shame creeping under your skin and tinting your ears and neck crimson in fist-sized patches. There was no way he didn’t know now that you had been paying attention to the drama, which meant he must have thought you were nosy.

You let out a pained groan.

‘People are getting crazier and crazier these days,’ Felix commented and you needed to make extra effort to not concentrate on your iced mocha in a way that could have been considered suspicious when you let out an affirmative hum.

Despite having your own car and preferring it over the crowded metros and buses you should have taken to get around in the city, you knew how public transportation worked. You even had your own T-money card somewhere in your wallet, so you really didn’t understand why your best friend acted like he owed you a ride home when he told you that he had plans with two of the baristas after closing time. Clearly, you had had a terrible day and your car had been caught in the crossfire, but you were also an adult. You could get your ass on the metro when you needed to.

‘I can take her home,’ you heard a familiar voice say and you both snapped your head in the baker’s direction on instinct, slim fingers tightening around the paper cup of iced coffee you had gotten along with the cupcakes you had purchased for the morning.

As if he had no shame, Mingyu shot a lopsided smile in your direction and made no attempt to hide that he had been eavesdropping. His elbow was still resting atop of the counter while his chin was casually on the back of his hand.

‘Would you really? Thanks, mate! You’re a lifesaver,’ your best friend exclaimed, completely disregarding the displeased glares you were giving him. He knew damn well that you didn’t like owing people, let alone someone you weren’t close with. If anything, the fact that the two of you had known each other for years and you still had problems receiving help from him when you were sick should have been a telltale sign.

You cleared your throat to express that you also had your own two cents to throw into the conversation that should have involved you in the first place.

‘Thank you, but I can take the metro. It’s no big deal, really, Felix’s just acting like I’m still five and snotty,’ you declined the baker’s offer with a patient smile, keeping your cool with grace in your every movement: in the way you held your chin high, how you lifted your paper cup in front of your lips. You took a small sip from your drink as elegantly yet unbothered as you could, mentally ready to leave the coffee shop for another month or two.

A boy and a girl left the building in the background, the unmistakable sound of a heavy door slipping into its frame encouraging you to bid your goodbye, too.

However, you were too slow.

‘She lives in Hongdae,’ your best friend said so casually, it made you wonder whether he was oblivious of the dangers of such a statement in public or he would have trusted this guy with his life and was messing with you on purpose.

‘Yongbok!’ You hissed, but he just laughed it off with a gentle wave of his hand as if you had been pseudo-sulking and he had better things to discuss than dealing with you. You bit into your cheeks and swallowed down a curse, making a mental note to tell on him to Yewon, because you knew for a fact that she would have taken your side without a second thought. She was a young girl who had moved to the capital city because of her studies. She knew the differences between the countryside and Seoul at night and in general. 

‘Then it’s not even a detour,’ Mingyu said and you rolled your eyes, because he couldn’t have known for sure just from the district. It was a big area, considering the traffic, it could have meant an hour-long detour, too, for all you cared. 

Honestly, you didn’t understand why he had offered you a ride in the first place. It wasn’t that the two of you were friends. You might have written a correction about his cupcakes, but his blog was still blocked on your Tumblr.

When his gaze landed on you, you let out a sigh.

‘It’s already dark outside. Let me take you home,’ Mingyu asked after he finally spared you a glance and it took everything in you to not squeeze the living daylight out of your coffee. You didn’t want to inconvenience the baristas who would need to clean up the mess, especially because both Seungkwan and Junhui had been fun when they had prepared your orders.

‘What makes you think I’m comfortable with you knowing where I live?’ You asked back, tongue sharp and merciless. Obviously, you would have liked to believe that your best friend wouldn’t have pushed you into a shady person’s arms just to be able to hang out with his other friends right after closing time, but the baker was technically still a stranger, so you had every right to put up your defences even if some considered it rude. It was your life, your sense of safety.

The silence that fell upon your trio didn’t resemble anything poetic. It didn’t feel like a warm blanket that shielded you from the cold; it wasn’t ugly and sticky and uncomfortable. Instead, it existed without picking on your skin or filtering out the background noise.

You gulped when memories from an hour prior popped up in your mind. You saw the petite girl storming into the coffee shop, screaming at Mingyu and calling him a farmer like it was an insult. You saw the baker’s unbothered facial expression slowly morphing into something sad and you could feel your resolve breaking as your brain identified the sight with a kicked puppy. You swore, the boy’s chocolate orbs were shining in the artificial light, tricking your heart into thinking he was about to cry.

‘Fine,’ you groaned in defeat. ‘Do you need me to wait here or…’

Mingyu’s smile was blinding.

‘Give me five more minutes and we can go,’ he promised and you acknowledged his words with a silent nod before you took a seat by a random, empty table.

You liked to believe that you were an independent, mature adult, but after the bravado he had pulled, it wasn’t below you to give your best friend the silent treatment. Thus, you paid him no mind while you were waiting and bid him goodbye only because it would have been rude if you hadn’t. You didn’t hate him. You simply wanted him to think twice before he had even thought of doing something similar to this in the future without your permission.

A part of you was hoping that the ride to your apartment complex would be spent in silence, maybe, listening to the radio or a playlist you would have never put on on your own, but of course you couldn’t have been so lucky. You couldn’t have reached the first red light, Mingyu was already rambling about his grandmother and her obsession with his love life as he was her only single grandchildren.

‘Look, it’s really not my business. I’m sorry I was eavesdropping when that girl came in, but in my defence, it was hard not to,’ you decided to put an end to both of your suffering, since it wasn’t an easy topic - family had never been one, not to you at least. If he insisted that you should have gotten to know each other while you were in his car, you would have much preferred starting with lighter subjects like what had made him become a baker or how he had come up with those recipes he was so proud of. Food… that you could have talked about for hours.

‘I know, I’m just saying tha—’

‘I can’t bake to save my life,’ you blurted out the first thing you could think of before he could have given you another lengthy explanation he didn’t owe you at all. Whether Mingyu had stood that girl up intentionally or he had underestimated the length his grandmother was willing to go to like he had said, it didn’t matter to you. At the end of the day, even if you had become acquaintances, you weren’t interested in him romantically, were you?

‘What?’ He snapped his head in your direction, making you point towards the road ahead in fear.

‘Eyes on the road!’ You demanded and you didn’t let your hand fall back on your lap until he did as you said. Once the shock of the moment passed, you needed to take a few deeper breaths to calm your heart, while the baker on your left let out an embarrassed, little laugh like he didn’t actually know what to do with himself.

You were grateful that he didn’t let go of the steering wheel with one of his hands to scratch his nape awkwardly like most people usually did in similar situations. Not the letting go of the steering wheel part, but the unconscious scratching.

‘Would you like me to teach you? How to bake,’ Mingyu specified, his question rolling off his lips with a little uncertainty, like he was fearing your reaction, which was ridiculous. You didn’t have a significant place in each other’s life, you were nobody to him but a girl who had dared to criticise his workplace and knew a guy his coworkers were close with.

You raised an eyebrow. Where was the infamous confidence that urged him to drag you to an empty table without a fair warning and feed you with his best desserts just to prove a point?

‘If I remember correctly, you didn’t want your own baker’s assistant. What makes you think you’re not an insufferable teacher?’ You asked, not out of spite, just to trigger a reaction that showed which one was the real him. Was his confidence all an act, something he perfected over the years because of his relatively handsome face? Did his personality change so much around particular people? Was it harder for him to believe in himself because of the article you had written about Coffee Carat or because he didn’t know what to expect from you?

Mingyu’s laugh was deep and it reverberated around the interior of the car, tugging on your edges and smoothing them effortlessly.

‘That’s a fair point. We might have to give it a try to figure it out,’ he teased as he took a turn to the right then stopped at the end of a painfully long line in front of the closest red lights. The traffic was as heavy as you had predicted. ‘But really, my offer still stands,’ he made sure you were aware and you acknowledged it with a curt nod.

It wasn’t that you totally hated the idea, you just weren’t sure you wanted to accept his offer and spend time together with him in an informal environment. Not because you thought he was bound to catch feelings for you; you knew more frequently than not people simply didn’t feel that spark regardless of one’s looks. Instead, you had doubts you could manage one more person in your private life. You might have been your own boss, you might have been able to spare time for friends almost whenever you wanted, but keeping in touch with more than two or three people at the same time was draining even for your generally extroverted ass. You didn’t like retelling a story multiple times, sometimes you were demotivated to answer texts immediately. One more person meant one more relationship to put effort into.

Unless he gave up on you as soon as he saw what a disaster you were in the kitchen when it came to desserts.

‘Can I turn on the radio?’ You asked after a couple of heartbeats, sneaking a glance at the boy by your side, trying to decipher how he felt about your question and your dismissive attitude. Was he disappointed? Did he feel stupid for bringing it up?

‘Sure,’ he agreed kindly, letting you pick a channel and telling you in way too much detail how you could have connected your phone to the audio system if you couldn’t find anything up to your liking.

During the rest of the ride, you didn’t speak much. You chose the first channel that played a pop song you were distantly familiar with and opted for staring out the window, watching the colourful neon lights blending into the yellow beams of the street lamps.

Still, when it was time to say goodbye, it wasn’t unpleasant or unnerving. On the contrary, there was a visible smile in the corner of your mouth when you closed the passenger door and lifted your hand for a polite wave.

You unblocked Mingyu’s blog on Tumblr two weeks later, in early August, when your best friend was unavailable because of an unannounced family visit - an early birthday surprise from Australia because his parents couldn’t take any days off at the same time in September - and you had too much food to eat on your own. The two of you had planned to have another movie night, so you had ordered plenty of mandus, kimbap balls and tteokbokki, while Felix had been supposed to bring dessert, which is why the giant baker came to your mind in the first place.

you: “is your offer still standing?”

You sent the message with quite low expectations. After all, it had been months since you had last spoken on this platform and you couldn’t have been sure whether he had remembered it existed. Based on the default profile picture he had and the lack of reblogs other than a couple of cooking memes from a month ago, you honestly doubted he checked on it regularly.

And he really didn’t. But at least the food didn’t taste horrible after you reheated it the next day in the microwave.

Your bi-weekly baking sessions with Mingyu had started with a bunch of double-texts:

milkgyuandcookies: “are you free tonight?” milkgyuandcookies: “i’ll be there in an hour just need to take a quick detour” milkgyuandcookies: “with which flavour should we start?” milkgyuandcookies: “seokmin said felix said you like chocolate so i bought chocolate chips and tons of cocoa powder” you: “are you really coming? like… are you really on your way here?” you: “what if i’m busy? or if i’m not even at home?” milkgyuandcookies: “are you?” milkgyuandcookies: “that’s a bit awkward then cuz i’m already here” milkgyuandcookies: “so you’re really not home?” you: “…” you: “give me five minutes”

Mingyu as a teacher was more patient with you than you had expected him to be based on his displeased comment on his baker’s assistant and a lot more zealous than he should have been considering your repeated mistakes with the baking soda that made even you, a complete newbie, feel tired and snappy on the fourth week, let alone a professional. Shouldn’t have he gotten tired of you after the second time you failed to measure the powder accurately? If your pride could have taken the blow, you would have given up on baking a long time ago.

‘I still think it’s the size of your kitchen,’ Mingyu claimed after he crouched down and took the tray out of your oven. Watching him move around in your small space, you remembered the disbelief on his face when he had first come over: how he couldn’t have believed there were kitchens out there where the oven and the fridge weren’t built into the complete set of kitchen furniture, preferably at his chest’s height as though being so tall was common in your country.

‘Yeah, sure,’ you shook your head in amusement, loving the chocolatey smell of the cupcakes you had baked, the third and most promising attempt that night.

You reached for the cream you had prepared for decoration, skipping on the fondant because last time you had given it a try, it took hours to make them look good and you started to get tired of standing. As usual, Mingyu had come over after his morning shift around four and it was already nearing eight. Thankfully, you had had a dinner break an hour ago.

‘No, but listen! With more space, you could feel less crowded and more relaxed,’ he argued, coaxing an airy scoff out of you when he hit your hand lightly to remind you to be patient. The cupcakes were still hot, you shouldn’t have touched them with bare hands.

‘Just admit you want to show off your kitchen and shut up,’ you groaned pseudo-annoyed with a hint of a smile hiding in the corner of your lips. You were genuinely waiting for the comment, anticipating it even, and if you wanted to be honest, you had heard so much about his kitchen equipment by now, you were actually considering asking Mingyu to facetime you from home just to show you around. However, your curiosity needed to stop there for both of your sake. ‘I won’t go over to your place just to destroy your kitchen, too. I don’t earn that well,’ you complained and watched him as he placed the warm cupcakes on two separate porcelain plates.

When Mingyu’s hand came to a halt in midmotion, you slid your gaze from the dessert to his face. He looked at you sceptically like he was about to call you out on your bullshit and you shrugged in response. Okay, maybe you earned that well, but it wasn’t what mattered.

‘What if I want you to come over, so I could cook for you? We could call it a date,’ he asked and it was your turn to raise a brow. By now, you knew that his confident and insecure selves came hand in hand, but it was the first time he didn’t beat around the bush by flirting with you shamelessly.

On most occasions, Mingyu brushed aside his own advances with a carefree chuckle before you could have taken him seriously. This time, however, he kept his warm eyes on your face, waiting.

You looked away and cleared your throat.

‘Aren’t there like a dozen of granddaughters in your hometown who are waiting for your grandma to set them up with you?’ You asked, because you could and because deep down you were a little desperate to avoid answering his question with the level of seriousness he most probably wanted you to. The teasing chuckle that stuck in your throat tasted bitter, like a nasty knot that went bad the moment you decided to not let it out.

You took a transparent bag filled with lilac coloured cream in your hand and pulled one of the porcelain plates closer to yourself.

‘You know I hate those blind dates,’ he claimed firmly and you hummed because you knew. Mingyu had the habit of giving you detailed explanations about things that were absolutely not your business. How could you have not known at this point? ‘I only go on dates with girls I genuinely want to get to know. I really don’t understand what’s so bad about this! So what if I don’t date that much, it’s not like I’ll die alone,’ he groaned, the pain in his tone so real, you could feel it in your own chest. You were being unfair and you did feel bad. However, taking him seriously would have meant you had to give him an honest answer and you weren’t sure you were ready for the consequences.

It was easier when it was all about harmless flirting.

Sneaking a glance at the boy on your left, you recognised his frustration in the way the deep furrow between his brows became even more bottomless and you swallowed your guilt when the thought that he looked adorable with his darted out tongue crossed your mind.

‘I don’t think it’s bad,’ you stated, late enough to call it an afterthought, but not too late to make things awkward with your commentary. Or so you hoped.

‘But you don’t think it’s maintainable,’ Mingyu retorted, finishing the rose petals on his first cupcake with ease while the cream was still hanging clumsily in your hand. You took a deep breath and got to work.

‘I’m only saying you have a lot of options,’ you explained and while your words came out less neutral than you would have preferred, you kept your focus on your dessert to make up for the pinch of annoyance in your voice. You shouldn’t have cared how many girls he could have gotten with a flick of his fingers, so you told yourself you didn’t.

‘So? There are hundreds of restaurants that want you to write about them. Still, I don’t see you eating out every single night,’ he argued, forcing your brain to see the logic behind his metaphor.

You nodded in acknowledgement as you got started on your next cupcake, not finding the perfect retort for a couple of minutes, but thankfully, Mingyu didn’t rush you. Instead, he put a second colour in his plastic bag atop of the first pastel cream and created the most beautiful lilac-marigold roses you had ever seen.

If you wanted to be honest, you would have admitted you were scared. Not of Mingyu, even though he had some questionable habits you were still trying to adjust to and accept - but who didn’t have those -, but of a romantic relationship with another person: the quality time you had to spend with a significant other, the responsibilities you needed to share. How long could you two have been together before everyone around you started to talk about marriage and babies? How long could you have been with Mingyu before he started to yearn for all the conservative steps a relationship entailed?

What if you had fallen in love with him one day, but not the idea of raising his children? You liked your freedom and the simplicity of taking care of only yourself although life in general could be difficult.

You went over the pros and cons in your head repeatedly, until there were no more cupcakes in front of you without a poor attempt of a rose on top of them and reached for a chopstick as soon as you made up your mind. Sure, Mingyu might have been childish and whiney and a lot of immature adjectives in your dictionary. He wasn’t familiar with personal space when it was convenient to him and his ego could take only one or two blows when it came to his profession.

However, he gave you space and time when he realised you needed it and made you laugh with his dorky behaviour more frequently than not. He was patient and optimistic. He baked the most delicious desserts you had ever tasted and hated those disgusting movies Felix used to drive you out of the world under the disguise of your friendly dates.

Your hand was shaking slightly when you scraped the sugary cream off your last cupcake with intent behind each one of your swipes. Then, with your breath caught in your throat, you slid the finished baked good in front of Mingyu.

To keep your mind busy and the mood nonchalant, you didn’t turn towards the boy to ogle at his reaction. You simply walked up to the sink and washed your hands, so that they would be clean when you placed each one of your cupcakes on a tray that fit into your fridge.

You became aware of Mingyu’s presence right behind you sooner than you felt the light touch of his dirty arms around your shoulders. You shuddered from the unexpected weight he put on you. Or was your body reacting to the warmth of his breath against your ear?

‘I’ll never eat it. Never,’ he claimed and you rolled your eyes (affectionately).

‘Sure, I worked so hard to bake and decorate these, so that you wouldn’t eat them,’ you said, then turned off the tap water without pulling away or making any attempt at putting more distance between the two of you.

For a split second, you hesitated whether you should have turned around in his arms to make him let you go with your sharp gaze, but soon you came to the conclusion that doing so would have been too risky in the current situation. The ugly, clumsily craved “yes” on the top of your cupcake might have given him enough confidence to realise he also had some power over you. It wasn’t just the other way around.

In the end, you stepped aside, but he still followed you like a giant puppy, his chin resting on your shoulder. Your movements felt uncoordinated as though your body was suddenly three sizes bigger, but you managed to reach the kitchen counter and the confession you had left on it.

Grabbing the lukewarm dessert, you lifted it to your lips, but before you could have taken a huge bite from it, Mingyu linked his long fingers around your wrist and pulled it in front of his own mouth. The crumbs that accidentally fell into your shirt tickled your skin in places that were lowkey unpleasant, but instead of scolding him, you turned your head and dived into the sweets from a different angle.

‘Delicious,’ the baker moaned, exaggerating, earning another eye roll from you and you two finished the cupcake in the middle of your small kitchen until the back hugging position got too painful to maintain due to your height difference.

That night, while you were cleaning the kitchen, you promised Mingyu that you would show him the coolest restaurants in the city and that he could have called all of your dinners dates if he wanted. In exchange, he promised to bake you every cake from his grams’ famous recipe book, which you, too, were allowed to call a date.

You doubted it fitted the definition, but you didn’t draw his attention to his mistake. You were too content to care about semantics when you (thought you) knew exactly what he meant and couldn’t wait to experience it all.

➼ next reason

[lord-aldhelm]

Get To Know Them Alphabet

Based on @sihtricfedaraaahvicius's template (original post here). Thank you for this! Sorry it has taken me so long to fill it out.

This is VERY long so it is under the cut. The questions seem geared towards a Modern AU so I am going to answer it like that.

Accessories: do they wear them and what kind? Aldhelm prefers to keep the accessories to a minimum. A wedding ring (if he is married of course) is all the jewelry he really cares to wear. He does wear a wristwatch, though, since he hates getting his phone out just to check the time. He is old fashioned like that.

Bad habits: do they have any? I honestly can't think of any! He does not really have any vices, believe it or not. He does not drink much except socially (which is rare since he is very introverted). He doesn't smoke or take drugs at all. He eats healthy foods in moderation and exercises regularly. He is always on time, or even early, and is not a procrastinator. He does not have an addictive personality at all, in fact. He doesn't even spend a lot of time on social media. The only thing I can think of is he has a bit of a sweet tooth and loves chocolate, but that hardly counts! (Edit: it was mentioned that "overthinking" is a bad mental habit so now that is included here! He is an overthinker for sure!!)

Clothing: what's their style and what do they wear at home/out and about? I know next to nothing about fashion aesthetics so I had to look this up to get an idea of what words to use. Basically I would think like a mix between smart-casual and sort-of business casual. Definitely not a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy for sure, except for maybe when he is just staying at home. He likes to look nice, but also be comfortable at the same time. Mostly earth-tones and black but he is not averse to color, especially forest greens and navy blues.

Date: what would their ideal first date look like? Do they enjoy datenights when in a relationship? A first date would be very laid back. A coffee shop where you can chat for a bit. A botanical garden, aquarium, or zoo if you are up for something more interactive. Honestly though, you probably already know each other well enough, before even the first date. He is a "get to know you as a friend first" take it slow kind of person and does not rush into a relationship. Once in a relationship, date-nights are a thing for sure. But not the dinner and a movie kind, unless you really want to. Going to a used bookstore, hiking in the forest, visiting a museum, or browsing an antique store is his idea of a good time.

Emotional: are they an emotional person? Yes, very much so, even though he often does not show it on the surface. He is usually very calm and soft-spoken, and rarely gets angry. But he does get frustrated easily, and is prone to bouts of melancholy. He just tries not to show it publicly.

Fears: what are they afraid of? Aldhelm's fears are not of tangible things; rather they are more abstract. He fears most of all losing the ones he loves. And he fears losing control over his life, and his independence (forced into being reliant on other people)

Gifts: what makes them happy? Aldhelm is not much into gift giving, as his love language is acts of service and quality time. Handmade or thoughtful gifts are appreciated, though!

Helpful: do they help others, or are they rather selfish? Aldhelm is one of the most selfless people on the entire planet. He will go out of his way to help others, especially those who he loves or is close to. He will not hesitate to help even total strangers.

Insecure: do they have any insecurities? Oh boy does he ever! He is a chronic overthinker, and will mill and mull about things for a very long time before coming to a decision. He may appear calm on the surface, but inside he is always racked with worry and anxiety over things he cannot control. He also worries entirely too much about not misinterpreting other’s actions; does this person like me or not? Does he hate me? Did I say the wrong thing? What is wrong with me? You know the thoughts…

Also he has attachment and abandonment issues. He clings hard to anyone who will pay him the slightest bit of attention, and won’t let go no matter what. This leads to him being taken advantage of, but any attention is good attention as far as he is concerned.

Jealous: are they of a jealous nature? He can be very jealous! He feels that the people he loves are "his" and wants them to spend their time with him only. However even though he is jealous he is not possessive or controlling, and keeps the jealous feelings (mostly) to himself.

Kitchen: can they cook? Do they have a signature dish? Aldhelm can cook well enough for himself, but does not really love cooking and baking.

Laugh: what makes them laugh? Aldhelm has a very dark and dry sense of humor, so sarcasm, hyperbole, and absurdities will make him laugh. You know, typical British humor.

Morning routine: what are they like in the morning? He is an early riser. He gets up early, eats his breakfast and has a morning jog before getting to work.

Night routine: how do they unwind before going to bed? He usually will read a book or listen to classical music to unwind.

Occupy: what does their home look like? Aldhelm’s home is classic and traditional, with a brick and stone exterior and clean, fairly minimalist interior. Everything is neat and tidy; he loves organizing and categorizing stuff so everything has a place. There are a few nice paintings hanging on the walls, originals not prints of course. For colors he prefers neutral natural tones overall, mostly warm browns and beige, but with pops of color here and there. He has a few houseplants, easy care pothos and orchids. In the living room/family room is an entire wall of bookshelves that are built into the wall, filled with books and a few modest collectables he has acquired over the years. And there is always a vase of fresh cut flowers from his garden on the dining room table.

Pet peeve: what are things they absolutely can't stand? Oh this will be a very long list... others being loud in public, littering, aggressive driving, people who are perpetually late, those who do not pick up after themselves (or their dogs!), not putting things back where they belong, poor grammar, doing gross things in public (spitting, picking nose, scratching themself, etc), and people who talk over you or ignore you in a conversation.

Quirky: what's their quirky trait? Probably that he fidgets all the time. He always has to be doing something with his hands.

Relax: are they easily stressed out or do they go with the flow? As someone who is low-key on the surface and does not like conflict, he will typically go with the flow but be stressed out internally.

Spontaneous: are they? Not at all!!! LOL! He has to plan ahead for everything. He has his own agenda, and sudden changes to that stress him out. He also likes to take his time to really evaluate a situation before making a decision, so he will never be the first to jump into anything.

Truthful: how much of the truth do they tell others? He is honest to a fault, and never lies. But he may not tell someone the entire truth depending on the circumstance.

Upset: are they upset easily? And what upsets them? He is typically very calm, and does not truly get upset easily. But he will get upset if he sees something disturbing, like someone hurting another person or animal.

Vain: how vain are they? Not at all. He takes good care of his appearance, but he is not conceited. He does not place a lot of weight in other people's appearances, and does not really care what others think of his.

Work: what kind of job do they have/would they like? I can imagine him in some sort of high level professional career field. He is a politician first and foremost, and would excel at being a congressman or working for the FBI or CIA. But maybe he would not really be happy doing those kinds of jobs. I could see him as a university professor or a museum curator. Maybe a librarian or bookstore owner. Or even perhaps an attorney or working for a court in some manner. Or even working for a humanitarian organization (like an NGO) that helps people. Somewhere he could feel fulfilled and use his skills, but not feel like millions of people's lives were on the line if he makes the wrong decision.

X-factor: do they have a talent for something? He is artistic and very creative! He hides it well from others since he does not like being judged. In his free time he loves to draw and paint. He also loves writing stories and even dabbles in poetry although he does not think he is very good.

Yield: how easily do they give in to something/someone? It depends. For someone he loves, he will give in very easily. But others? Not without a huge amount of pushback. And if he feels like he is right about something, he will never relent. Typical Capricorn lol!

Zealous: what are they enthusiastic and passionate about? When it boils down, he is passionate about helping people. Whether it is doing nice things for the people he loves, serving in a good cause, or working for a company whose mission is to make other people's lives better. He lives to serve others, in any capacity.

[grailknightmonty]

it starts and ends in a garden.

i keep coming back to the good omens mianite AU so have a funky little illustration :] I just. I just love them a lot

Ref + what story I've thought about below the cut!

(Spoilers for Good Omens S1 and S2 ahead, be wary if you haven't watched and wanna get into it without prior knowledge)

At its core, this AU is basically good omens but with the cast of Mianite, with a few revisions to tie it a little into the mcytverse (while also not like compromising the integrity of the show version of the story) I got inspired by AdamMonter's AU and decided I wanted to give it a go myself after i watched S2 and reawakened my fixation :D

Jordan is this universes Aziraphale- the angel stationed to guard Eden and look out for humans (intended to instill in them the ways of goodness through righteous balance and justice in the name of the High Goddess) - and Tom is Crowley, or the snake in within the Garden, sent up to cause chaos and tempt humans towards evil shenanigans in the name of Dianite, or the devil in this case. They stand on two opposing sides of whats meant to be an all out war between Heaven (under Ianite) and Hell (by Dianite) on whether Ianites form of order (borrowing this from Aitheaca) or chaos will reign supreme- or basically the big ol apocalypse. I made Mianite the Metatron because idk what else to do with him mianite im sorry i didnt wanna make ianite the metatron if i swapped it even though it would make more sense for mia and dia to be fighting SOBS

Tom n Jordan grow close over their centuries on Earth together that when everythings meant to go down and destroy the world they've made their own, they fight to stop the apocalypse from happening, and by the end of it, are subsequently punished by their respective sides- only to not be affected and left alone when they seem to have absorbed the powers of the other (no one seems to realize they can swap bodies). Series 2 follows what they uncover by the end of it a plot to restart armageddon, in which they want Jordan to take over as the head of it after the former champion/supreme archangel is ousted for disagreeing- and had shown up with a non-existent memory nonexistent at Jordan's.

(im switching to list im done with prose xD)

Jordan runs an antique shop instead of a bookshop, he seems like he'd be more into little trinkets and old school machines, stuff he could tinker with. its still got that certain charm to it though

Capsize is Nina from the coffee shop (give me coffee or give me death seems like a thing Capsize would name something) and Sonja is Maggie who runs a record shop. aka the lesbians from across the street you know what I am

For something hilarious Tubbo is the Antichrist, aka the child meant to start and lead the War (leaving it as is bc its funny but not the literal antichrist) He's meant to join a government family to put him in a place of power, but due to a mix up ends up with an In the meantime, Tom and Jordan act as godfathers to the other child (who they assume is the antichrist, it would be funny to make this Crumb or something) in hopes that influencing them to good/evil respectively would neutralize them out- only to eventually realize its the wrong kid

Wag is Anathema, the descendent of a prophetic wizard who was scrutinized for their foresight and becomes the carrier of those prophecies (for my sanity ive chosen to get rid of the Newt-Anathema romance thing idk it. it just aaaa and turn into wag and his bros aka FyreUK tryin to use what they know to stop the apocalypse from their end)

Angels are Ianitees (save for Capsize), and Demons are Dianitees. Ive gone back n forth with who would be who and I still have no answer so. all I'll say is that Andor is Muriel thats all thats important /j C:

The other option was to make Satan the Darkness/World Historian and Dianite is the Lord of Hell (Beelzebub) with Mot as Gabriel but do i look like I know? idk do we need ineffable bureaucracy i could always alter that a little too... idk

tubbo as the child of the world historian who wouldve thought… edit what if like carrier of the darkness

anyway thats all enjoy this nonsense ;)

and screenshot I referenced for the drawing! I know its low qual dont worry about it i just needed to see where the trees were so i knew how many to paint LMAO