❝ i do not have to believe in my affirmations to receive my desires. i do not have to feel like they’re coming into fruition for them to manifest into my reality. my desires always want me. they’re always chasing me. so i do not need to use feelings to make them come—they’re already here. ❞
This is NOT being appreciated enough. I am genuinely in awe. Never have I EVER seen a drawing of an idol so realistic that I thought it was a real photo when I first laid my eyes on it. The shading, the small features, just the realism in general is CRAZY to me?? Whatever you do, never stop drawing. This is BEAUTIFUL. I can't even find enough words to explain what I'm feeling. The most I can say is that I absolutely cannot stop staring.
current gender is han in the chk chk boom mv. yesterday it was han wearing minho's cardigan in the grocery store. who knows what tomorrow will hold but it will certainly be han jisung
synopsis — walking the same city streets each night, you barely notice the blur of shops and strangers until a small bakery, and the boy behind its counter, begin to change everything. what starts as an impulsive stop on a cold evening grows into something warm and unforgettable.
some goodbyes are baked into the first hello. 🩹
g! — felix is a baker, gn! reader, strangers to lovers, angst.
wc! — 800+
an! — this has been in my drafts for two years. i’m rather proud of it. if you enjoy, leave a reblog, love.
you’ve walked down center city a thousand times. your office isn’t far, so your feet often carry you there without thought. the streets blur together. shops, flashing signs, endless faces. you don’t remember most of them, but there’s a strange comfort in the repetition, the faint familiarity of nights that never mattered.
that’s how you feel when you pass the bakery under construction. scaffolding, tarps, noise. just another project in a city always breaking and remaking itself. so you ignore it, let it slip into the rhythm of your walk.
winter stings your skin. you’ve never liked the cold.
you know how to weave past the construction near 5th street, the detour memorized by now. it’s part of your map of the city—familiar, but not important.
your life goes on, and what should walking through the city matter to you anyway?
and then the bakery opens. the scaffolding is gone, the windows clear. you almost trip at the absence of it. strange. no more construction on 5th?
soon other projects start up. the noise returns elsewhere. but the bakery stays. and you keep walking, though you pass it every day, something about it refuses to blur into the background. it lingers in your thoughts.
autumn comes with its golden leaves and sharp winds. you’re underdressed for the season, shivering on your walk home.
normally you’d push on. but tonight, impulse leads you to push open the bakery door, the bell chiming above your head. you tell yourself it’s the cold that drove you inside, but something deeper knows better.
the warmth hits you at once. soft lighting. plants in the corners. pastries lined like jewels in the display. but what captures you first isn’t the sweets, it’s the boy behind the counter. later, you’ll learn his name is felix.
he tells you he used to be a barista, but baking was what lit him up, so he opened this place. his voice carries the quiet conviction of someone who has finally chosen himself. when you speak with him, something inside you stirs awake.
felix admits he, too, walks these same streets, sees the same blur of faces. but unlike you, he watches people closely. he says everyone has a sparkle, a tiny glimmer only they carry. still, most of them fade, forgotten in time.
but you, he says softly, he thinks he won’t forget your sparkle. is that strange? he hopes not.
he confesses he’s noticed you walking past, night after night. he waited for you, hoping one evening you’d step inside. and now here you are.
you realize you’d meant to, at some point. you’d always meant to. and now you finally have.
months pass. the bakery becomes a piece of your life. you share pastries with felix, your conversations spilling longer each time. he says nothing makes him happier than offering something he’s made to someone he cares about.
you start calling each other friends. nights end with crumbs and laughter, with felix walking you home. your arms sometimes linked as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
seasons shift. autumn gives way to spring, as it always does. every season ends, every story bends toward its closing. you know this. but still you choose not to flee from the inevitable. instead, you stay beside felix. you choose to let yourself be happy.
around him, you find yourself louder, braver. you smile more. he makes you feel warm, steady, like sunlight in winter.
time goes on.
one day, the bakery is closed. you wait, wondering. weeks pass. when it opens again, you notice small changes in the interior. you assume renovations. relieved, you step inside, eager to tell felix about your week.
but it’s not felix at the counter.
the man behind the register tilts his head when you ask for lee felix. recognition flickers at last, and his words land heavy: mr. lee has passed away. the bakery was left to his family, then sold.
you can’t find words, so you leave with none.
another spring arrives. then another. and another. three years slip by.
you still pass the bakery. it remains part of your commute, though no longer his. now it’s run by young men with kind faces. you’ve stepped inside once or twice. but their smiles are not felix’s smile. their eyes do not hold the same gentle light.
a long day. the cold’s first bite of the year catches you unprepared, as always. a gust of wind drives you inside the nearest door. wood creaks beneath your feet. you know this floor.
you realize where you’ve wandered.
a voice calls from the back: they’re closed. something in your chest leaps. a foolish pang of hope. you crush it down.
a curtain lifts. a man steps out, taller, sharper-featured than felix. he asks if you’re alright. you must look flustered, shivering with both cold and memory. but felix isn’t here. you know that.
you say you’re fine and slip back out into the night. you’ve learned two things in the years since.
you can fall in love with someone at first sight.
but you never know when a goodbye is the last.
so you keep walking down center city, heading home.
taglist — @liumoonlight , @tbzloonar , @noramoons , @seonghwas-lighter , @septabuspass , @kflixnet , @kwritersworld , @k-labels , @kdiarynet, @fics-you (i hope u like it)
i’m so sick of kpop and this whole “i want to idols to be more open” no stop it say what you really mean , you want them to be messy , you want to know what idol they hate , which groups actually have beef with, shit like that .. people dog piling on chan even when he’s clearly expressing himself , calling him a manipulator , a predator and being disgusting towards him .. you don’t want to see a idols go through tough shit unless it’s in a sad edit behind some sad ass song .. you truly don’t want to know about the dark side of kpop because that’s apart of it , he’s clearly struggling with something and yet he’s being called a pedophile for expressing himself i pray the day the other members go to the military he goes silent , go back to australia and has the best time of his life..
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
izzy806
titsay
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart
