#draws THE BEST doodles on the cups/bags and so on

[midnightfangz]

There's something about silly cafe AUs that soothes my soul so much

[estellan0vella]

Doodles Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

You return to the tattoo parlour, balancing a tray of coffee cups and a bag of pastries. The aroma of fresh coffee mingles with the scent of antiseptic and ink, a peculiar but comforting mix that you've grown to love. You push open the door with your hip and are greeted by the familiar sight of Gojo lounging on the couch, Geto perched on the edge, and Toji leaning against the counter. They glance up as you enter, offering a mix of smirks and lazy waves.

"Coffee's here," you announce, setting the tray down on the table.

"Finally," Gojo drawls, reaching for his cup. "I was starting to think you'd run off and left us to fend for ourselves."

"I wish," you retort, handing out the drinks. "Where's Sukuna?"

"Office," Geto replies, taking his cup with a grateful nod.

"Sleeping Beauty needed his nap," Toji adds with a chuckle.

You smile, picturing Sukuna sprawled out on the couch in his office, one arm draped over his eyes. "I'll go check on him."

Balancing the last cup of coffee, you head towards Sukuna's office. The door is slightly ajar, and as you approach, you hear the faint sound of giggling. You push the door open wider and freeze.

Yuji and Megumi are perched on either side of Sukuna, markers in hand, drawing elaborate patterns on his face. Yuji has a red marker and is carefully colouring a heart on Sukuna's cheek, while Megumi, armed with a blue marker, adds swirls and stars to his forehead. Sukuna, deeply asleep, is blissfully unaware of the artistic masterpiece being created on his face.

Your mind races. Should you wake him up? Stop the kids? Scream? Laugh? You have no idea what to do. Instead, you stand there, mouth slightly open, until Yuji notices you.

"Y/N/N!" he whispers loudly, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Look what we did!"

"I see that," you say, voice hushed but incredulous. "Where did you get the markers?"

"Gojo let us use them," Megumi whispers, as if that explains everything.

You glance back at the trio in the other room. Gojo, Geto, and Toji are watching with poorly concealed amusement. None of them made any attempt to stop the kids. You shake your head, sighing.

"Okay, you two, let's go. Quietly," you instruct, ushering the boys out of the office. They giggle as they sneak past you, and you close the door softly behind them.

You return to the main room, where Gojo is practically vibrating with suppressed laughter. "You just let them draw all over his face?"

"We thought it would be funny," Gojo replies, grinning. "And it was."

"Very mature," you say, rolling your eyes. "You know he's going to wake up soon, right?"

As if on cue, a loud "What the fuck?" echoes through the parlour. You all freeze, and then Gojo and Geto dissolve into laughter, Toji smirking.

"You're all so brave," you mutter, as they push you towards the office. "Why me?"

"You're the best at calming him down," Geto insists, still chuckling.

"Yeah, go use those girlfriend superpowers," Gojo adds, winking.

Toji gives you a nudge. "Suck him off if you have to."

You glare at them as you walk towards the office. You can hear Sukuna's muttered curses and the sound of him moving around in the office. Taking a deep breath, you open the door and step inside, closing it behind you.

Sukuna is standing in front of the small mirror on his desk, staring at his reflection with a mix of disbelief and irritation. His face is a canvas of colourful doodles, and his eyes snap to you as you enter.

"Hey, Kuna," you say, trying to keep your voice light. "How was your nap?"

He points to his face. "What the fuck is this?"

"Uh, art?" you offer, giving him a sheepish smile. "The kids got creative."

His glare softens slightly as he looks at you, but he's still clearly annoyed. "And you just let them?"

"I didn't even know until I got back," you explain. "But, hey, it's washable. We can clean it off."

Before Sukuna can respond, Gojo's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Put in the good work, Y/N, you're saving us all!"

Toji follows up with, "No teeth unless he's into that!"

Sukuna's expression shifts from irritation to something more dangerous. You can almost see the murderous thoughts forming in his mind.

"Ignore them," you say quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "They're just being idiots."

"You think?" he growls, but he doesn't pull away from your touch.

Geto's voice joins in, "Show him who's the real boss, Y/N!"

"And don't forget to swallow!" Gojo adds, laughter in his voice.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, and you step closer, trying to distract him. "They're trying to rile you up."

"They're succeeding," he mutters, but he's looking at you now, his gaze softening as he meets your eyes.

"I'll help you clean it off," you offer, reaching for a cloth and some cleaning solution from his desk. "Sit down."

He sits, still grumbling, and you gently start wiping away the marker. "You know," you say, trying to lighten the mood, "you make a pretty good canvas."

He snorts, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You're lucky I love you."

"I know," you reply, smiling back. "And I love you too, even with marker all over your face."

Gojo's voice calls out again, "Y/N, you still alive in there?"

"Yeah, she hasn't killed me yet," Sukuna shouts back, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, keep up the good work!" Geto hollers. 

"Only because you're scared of him," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Sukuna chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "They should be."

"Can't argue with that," you agree, finishing up the last of the marker removal. "There, all better."

He stands, looking in the mirror again. "Thanks, babe."

"Anytime," you reply, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Now, go deal with those idiots."

You step out of the office with Sukuna, your fingers entwined with his as you walk towards the front desk. Yuji and Megumi are already there, giggling and playing with their toys. You lift them both onto your lap, balancing them with one arm while grabbing your coffee with the other. The kids snuggle into you, their laughter bubbling up as they see Sukuna approaching the trio.

Gojo, Geto, and Toji exchange wary glances, trying to maintain their innocent expressions. "All clean?" Gojo asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

"For now," Sukuna replies, his voice dripping with ominous intent. "Now, who's first?"

The trio scrambles, but Sukuna's quicker. He grabs Toji by the collar and hauls him back, planting him firmly in a chair. "Hold still," Sukuna growls, pulling out a black marker from his pocket.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Toji protests, but he's laughing, clearly enjoying the chaotic turn of events.

Sukuna grins wickedly as he starts drawing on Toji's face, the crude outline of a penis taking shape on his cheek. "Just adding a little artwork. Sit still."

Gojo and Geto can't stop laughing, even as they try to make a run for it. Sukuna is relentless, though. With Toji marked, he quickly corners Geto next, who throws up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I give up!"

"Good choice," Sukuna says, drawing another crude image on Geto's forehead. The laughter continues, echoing through the parlour as Sukuna finally rounds on Gojo, who's been trying to hide behind a potted plant.

"Come on, Sukuna, you don't have to do this," Gojo pleads, but he's grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh, but I do," Sukuna replies, pouncing on Gojo and quickly drawing yet another obscene image on his face as Gojo screams. The room is filled with laughter, yours included, as you sip your coffee and watch the chaos unfold.

Yuji and Megumi are practically bouncing with excitement, their giggles infectious. "Suku drew on their faces!" Yuji exclaims, clapping his hands.

"That he did, Yuji," you say, ruffling his hair. "Isn't it funny?"

Megumi nods vigorously. "Funny!"

Once Sukuna's done, he stands back to admire his handiwork. The three men sit there, each with a ridiculous drawing on their faces, their expressions a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

Sukuna turns to you, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Well, babe, what do you think?"

You raise your coffee cup in a mock salute, grinning from ear to ear. "Beautifully done, Kuna. A masterpiece."

The room erupts in laughter again, and even Sukuna chuckles, his earlier annoyance completely gone. The kids cheer, and you feel a warmth spread through you as you watch everyone having fun together.

"Alright, you three," Sukuna says, crossing his arms and towering over Gojo, Geto, and Toji. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before letting the kids use me as their canvas."

"To be fair, it was pretty funny," Toji says, trying to look innocent despite the crude drawing on his face.

"Yeah, you did look kinda cute with the whiskers," Geto adds, winking at you.

Gojo just laughs, slapping Sukuna on the back. "Consider it payback for all the times you've messed with us."

Sukuna rolls his eyes but can't hide his grin. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't make it a habit."

As the laughter dies down, you take another sip of your coffee, savouring the moment. Life at the parlour is never boring, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1

[homey-worshiper]

pen pals with lady hestia

{a little concept i thought of recently}

i love communicating with my deities, listening to them, feeling their presence, but i am not the best when it comes to speaking. talking no matter to who is quite uncomfortable for me, so i have been looking for different ways of communication.

and i think i settled on letter writing.

the concept of pen pals is very appealing for me. having a sense of community, bonding with someone and not speaking. also i love writing in general, journaling, poetry, etc.

what my pen-pal letters look like

very similar to "normal" letter you can see when searing for pen pals, on tumblr, pinterest. the only difference is that the person that i am writing to will not anwear me with a letter of the same structure.

what do i include

the most important - the letter, it can be something like venting, asking for help, thanking or simply just talking about whatever i feel like

poetry, specifically about dedicated to her things, concept that reminds me of her, or just poetry written when i was feeling cozy

prayer, i have a few that i wrote for her, and for pen-paling i try to write it more elegantly, on a nice piece of paper with a nice pen

drawings, doodles, even if it's just a doodle of a hot cup of coffee

tea bags, i don't have any coffee beans or bags so i run with tea, something that smells nice, and reminds me of her

a recipe card - something i plan to make and dedicate to her

quotes - it is usually from media that i consume and that reminds me of her, sometimes i include little phrases i came up with throughout the day

of course, every letter i make is different, and so for you it will do so much different too, i only want to share to inspire you, and maybe help you communicate with your deities, because of course feel free to use this idea to communicate with other deities not only lady hestia

[coalswriting]

sketches and feelings - shauna shipman

summary – shauna tries to find out what her artist friend keeps hiding from her (approx 2k words)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you sat on the bleachers, sketchpad held close to your face, shading a doodle of your teammates in action. you were currently benched for taking a bad fall earlier in practice, leading you to twist your ankle. it wasn’t broken or anything, but it was extremely sore.

you looked up after noticing someone approach you in the corner of your eye, and before she could take a peek, you closed the sketchpad, securing the content inside from the prying eyes of your best friend and crush, shauna shipman.

“you drawing me again?”, she teased, ruffling your hair, plopping her tired body down next to you. she leaned against you, inhaling contently, as she felt her muscles relax.

“yes, actually”, you smiled gently, wrapping an arm around her. you felt happy with shauna like this, and though she took your advances as friendly, the buzz in your own heart said otherwise, “and no, i won’t show you.”

she groaned, giving you a playful jab in the ribs. “show me, (y/nnnnn)!”

you shook your head, laughing.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

shauna was sprawled over your bed, leaning over a textbook. her face showed concentration, but the both of you knew that she was probably thinking about anything else other than the content on the pages. your head was also elsewhere, your maths homework abandoned on your desk sloppily. your knees were tucked neatly into your chest as you bent your elbow against the hard wood, eyes flicking between shauna and the page of your sketchbook.

you stared at her nose, then back to the sketchbook shading the soft shadows, then her cheeks, then the sketchbook, and then her lips. your eyes darted back to the page quickly, a blush covering your cheeks. every time you looked at shauna’s lips, you didn’t think about the form or the way the lighting hit them – you thought about how badly you wanted to feel them against your own.

shauna brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, catching your stare. “what’s wrong?”, she asked.

you looked down, closing the sketchbook before safely tucking it into your bag. “nothing, i just think that your hair frames your face beautifully.”

shauna chuckled, sitting up to face you. “i know you’re an artist so you state things in a very descriptive way, but that was genuinely the nicest compliment i’ve ever heard.”

you covered your mouth with a hand in a casual motion in order to hide your (reddening face) grin, “it’s the truth, shipman.”

upon the use of her surname, a cushion was thrown your way.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you admired your best friend from across the fire pit. she was chatting with lottie, another teammate of yours, a red solo cup held securely in her hand. you watched as the dancing flames illuminated her face, casting her in a warm glow that was comparable only to the heavens above.

every time the fire crackled, the orange hues shifted gently, and for the first time in your life, you genuinely felt upset that you had forgotten to take your sketchpad somewhere with you.

lottie nudged a hand towards you, noticing your gaze, causing shauna to divert her attention towards you as well. she smiled, drunkenly, and began to shuffle your way. you felt small as her happy, brown eyes tracked you, a hint of mischievousness twinkling within them.  

“no sketchpad today?”, is all your friend commented as she leaned up against you. your brain felt like static as you felt her weight against yours, the alcohol adding a bit of extra clumsiness. you shook your head no, thinking for a moment.

then with a playful glint, you replied, “no, which is such a shame. the glow of the fire makes you look ethereal.”

you could feel shauna stiffen against you, and for a moment, her cheeks looked as though they were dusted in a rosy blush. however, before you could say any more, she gave you a side hug and stormed off. you shrugged your shoulders, blaming her alcohol on the strange interaction. after all, shauna was straight and would never see you the way you saw her.  

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

the day that the plane crashed was the worst day of your life.

you dragged yourself against the podzol, absorbing the sight of the wreckage. disaster surrounded you, your teammates lifting each other away from the ruin and chaos. you crawled on the ground, hurt, clenching your jaw shut, tears in the pricks of your eyes.

then looking up, you saw coach martinez’ lifeless body impaled in a tree.

that day was the day you lost your passion for art, and despite misty clicking your dislocated elbow back into place, you refused to pick up a pencil ever again. the memory of your deceased friends stuck in your mind like a photograph, and you couldn’t help but think of them whenever you stared at a blank page. they were an intrusive thought, and even shauna couldn’t help your brain bury them. your sketchpad remained shoved in the bottom of your rucksack, collecting dust, for you were too afraid to let it collect memories.

you closed off from others a lot, and everyone’s initial concern turned more into impatience, as you were often caught staring off into the distance. you weren’t harming anyone by staring, per say, but with high tensions came nasty comments, and with nasty comments came arguments.

shauna, despite it all, stayed by your side no matter what. maybe she didn’t truly understand just why your head was in the clouds all the time, but she understood that you were hurting, and she did everything she could to help you.  

it was a few months after the crash when you started drawing again. it was a pure coincidence that you had taken your sketchpad on your walk that day. part of you was itching to get back into art, but another part of you hesitated. your first drawing was rusty – you had seen a deer while pondering by the riverbank away from the cabin, and with no weapons on hand, you decided to just sketch it. it ended up being more fun than you thought.

the next thing you drew was much nicer. it was a few days after the deer incident and you were relaxing by the fire after dinner, suffering from a cold. van and taissa were laughing to each other as they flicked bottle caps across a table, playing some sort of made-up game. with a newfound inspiration, you sketched the two, conveying their everlasting joy perfectly in that moment. shauna watched you from the other side of the room, a curious look on her face. she stared as you showed the two lovebirds the drawing, and the way their faces blew up into the widest smiles she had seen since the day the plane crashed.

“i wanna see,” she said with an old familiarity as you scrunched your face up in a flustered shock, shutting the sketchpad.

“no,” you giggled, cheekily, “not yet.”

shauna grew frustrated, huffing in a corner while you gave her an apologetic look. you weren’t ready to show her what you had been drawing, but you would soon. she just had to be patient – she knew that she wasn’t though,

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

the day that shauna reciprocated your feelings, you were assigned the task to go and gather water.

the moment the brunette heard the slamming of the front door, followed by a familiar silence, she climbed up the ladder to the attic where your bag was stored. she shuffled through it, almost hungrily, looking for one thing and one thing only – your sketchpad.

after around fifteen minutes, shauna began to lose hope. she had searched your bag over and over, with no sketchpad to be found. as she stood up, disappointment deep in her face, she noticed something out of place in the corner of her eye. she followed her vision, noticing a familiar sketchpad on a beam overhead. with a cocky smirk, shauna reached up to grab it.

she handled the book as if it was an artefact, fragile and gentle, and after sitting down straight, she opened the first page, her heart beating a million miles an hour. this felt wrong – it felt forbidden, and shauna shipman could not help but to feel nervous, wiping her sweaty palms on her filthy trousers.

the first page was a simple lighting exercise with loose figures drawn in various poses. shauna’s eyebrows rose as she nodded, impressed with your technical skill. she flipped to the next page, admiring charcoal scenery of a forest complimented by a night sky. she kept flipping through the sketchpad, taking some time to cherish every single drawing, every scribble, every stroke.

and then, shauna’s heart stopped, as she turned onto a page with the illustrations that she had been looking for – the portraits of her from various angles. she was immersed in conversation in one of the drawings, smiling in another, and then the third drawing – shauna could feel a lump in her throat. it was a drawing of her from afar, staring with a curious expression on her face. it was a portrait of her from the night you had drawn van and taissa. she looked godly in it, like a renaissance statue.

shauna damn near dropped the sketchpad when she heard a gasp to her left. turning her head quickly, she looked at you like a deer in the headlights. you were standing static, staring at her with an indiscernible expression, before you speed walked her way, standing over her.

“what the hell, shauna?”, you growled, bending down to take your sketchpad away from the perpetrator. shauna held the sketchpad tight in her hands, resisting from your pull. she looked at you with her big brown doe eyes, your own frustrated gaze softening. “i told you not to look…”

your crush looked down at the drawings again, then back at you. “(y/n), you drew me wrong”, she said, completely unacknowledging your embarrassment. your face grew red from shame. you just wanted to hide your artwork – no, yourself – away from the world. shauna sighed when she realised you weren’t taking her bait, “look here.”

you looked down slowly, to where her finger hovered over the pencil drawing, careful not to smudge it. “what’s wrong with it?”

“you drew my lips too thin.”

you gulped, imagining her lips. you could never stare at them for too long without getting flustered, so you always made them up when you drew. suddenly, you felt a hand hold you by the cheeks, as shauna’s eyes darkened, “look, mine are plumper.”

your eyes met the sight of her lips, slightly dry, but still flawless. the two of you stayed in this position for a couple of seconds until shauna pulled you in, meeting mouth to mouth. the kiss was tender and sweet, no malice hidden behind it. you felt an unfamiliar dizziness travel from your nape to the top of your head. it felt like you were dreaming, but you knew you weren’t.

after pulling away, shauna put the sketchpad down, pulling you into her chest. she hummed happily, pecking you on the head, “i’m sorry i looked through your sketchpad. i just wanted to see what you were drawing. i won’t disrespect you like that again.”

you moved your head up, to meet her perfect innocent eyes again, “it’s okay, i wanted to perfect my portraits of you before showing them, but this is even better. i didn’t know you felt that way about me”.

you could hear the smile in shauna’s voice as she answered, “i’ve felt that way since the first day you drew me, (y/n). i never stopped feeling these strong feelings for you since then – i thought i’d go crazy not being able to see the thing that made me fall in love with you.”

you leaned in to kiss her again, receiving a similar passion in return. shauna shipman was perfect to you, and you knew you would draw her again and again.

[f3mme-f4tale]

a brew of history

Part One

content warnings: modern au, no real warnings except explicit language word count: 1.3k additional tags: mutual pining, embarrassed ellie, barista!ellie, just fluff really, best friend jesse a/n: first ellie post omg hehe. i haven't written fanfiction in so long, so i apologize for how scattered this may seem. i'm (finally) graduating with my undergrad in april, so i'm hoping that i can dedicate some more of my free time into creative writing this year! lmk if any of y'all wanna be mutuals mwah

important info about palestine

prologue

You couldn't recall exactly when you started to look forward to your morning routine more than usual. Perhaps it was when the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans began to mingle with the scent of aged manuscripts and artifacts. Or maybe it was when you first noticed the cheerful smile of the barista across the street, Ellie, as she handed over the perfectly brewed cup of coffee.

The local history museum where you worked stood tall and proud, its grand facade a testament to the stories held within its walls. As the assistant collections manager, your days were consumed with cataloging, preserving, and inputting the items into the online database. It was a job you adored, one that allowed you to immerse yourself in the past and connect with the present through the lens of time.

But there was something about Ellie that added a new dimension to your mornings. Each day, like clockwork, you would step off the 48 bus line and make your way across the cobblestone street to the cozy coffee shop. And each day, Ellie would greet you with a warm smile and a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

"Good morning," Ellie would say, her voice as inviting as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

"Morning, Ellie," you would reply, returning the smile. It was a simple exchange, yet it never failed to brighten your day.

As the weeks went by, the interactions evolved beyond mere pleasantries. You began to exchange snippets of conversation—small talk about the weather, musings about the latest museum exhibit, and eventually, deeper discussions about the shared passions for art. You found yourself eagerly anticipating the morning conversations, the moments of connection amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. There was something about the way Ellie listened intently, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest, that made you feel seen and understood in a way you hadn't before.

So when Ellie had begun to leave doodles on your to-go cups, you felt obligated to return the favor in some way. It started innocently enough, with a simple "thank you" scribbled on a napkin, accompanied by a smiley face. But as the days passed and your interactions became more frequent, your gestures grew bolder, more playful.

On this particular morning, the one after you had meticulously scoured the back office for a set of pencils to match the parcel in your bag, you realized you were running late for work. You were supposed to be at your desk ten minutes ago, and yet here you were, still a block away. You tried your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you glanced at your watch, until the familiar awning came into view and you practically ran into an older gentleman as you swung open the door.

As the jingle of the large oak door signaled your arrival, the familiar gleam of the girl behind the counter drowned out your previous anxieties. Her hair was tied back in her usual low bun, a gray flannel adorning her slim torso, a black apron tied loosely around her hips. As Ellie handed you your usual order – because of course she already had it made – you slid a journal across the counter, a mischievous gleam in your eye.

"For you," you said with a grin, watching as Ellie's curiosity piqued. Ellie's eyes widened in surprise as you flipped open the sketch pad, revealing a whimsical drawing of the two of you—coffee cups in hand, surrounded by swirling patterns and doodles.

“Well this is quite…” she began, laughing quietly to herself.

“Oh you are the artist, that’s for sure. But I always feel guilty putting your little doodles in the compost bin, so I figured I’d offer something more…” You flipped through the remaining blank pages, turning the leather bound book in your hand, “Permanent.”

“Oh, I can’t just take this,” Ellie suddenly felt flustered. A pretty girl gifting her art supplies when she could barely afford rent?

“Dude,” You pushed the journal into her reluctant grasp. “We have like a hundred of these just floating around from overstock at the giftshop.”

Ellie's cheeks flushed with gratitude as she traced her fingers over the smooth leather cover of the sketch pad. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice tinged with emotion.

"You're welcome," you replied, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction at her reaction. You dug around in your purse trying to find the exact amount of change for your latte, the line of people now forming behind you a reminder that you were, in fact, still running late for work.

“It’s on the house,” Ellie rushed out, attempting to reach out and stop your anxious rummaging. You raised an eyebrow in response.

“Are you even allowed to do that?” You replied, tucking a portion of your hair behind your ear. Could Ellie tell how clammy you were? The barista only shrugged and offered back a sly smile. Knowing you didn’t have the time to argue, and before thinking it through fully, you grabbed a pen from the cup next to a collection of straws and napkins. As your fingers grazed Ellie’s arm, the ink diligently showcasing the swirling of your writing on the other girl’s forearm, Ellie could swear that every patron in the shop could hear how loud her heart was beating.

"In case you ever need someone to cover your shift," you said with a playful grin, grabbing your coffee and at last making your final trek to the building next door.

As you grabbed your coffee and hurried out the door, Ellie stood rooted to the spot, her mind swirling with a million thoughts and emotions. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was over analyzing the interaction. A sudden jolt to her side earned her best friend, Jesse, a sharp kick to the shin.

“Ow!” He whined, putting his hands up in defense. “One conversation with a pretty girl and you zone out. There’s customers and I’d love to be done by three.” Ellie rolled her eyes, going back to actually doing her job and not drooling over the woman who had become a regular.

“Dina won’t care if we’re late,” Ellie mumbles, running the espresso machine for another order.

“That’s bullcrap and you know it,” Jesse shakes his head, restocking the ice and rolling his eyes. “She’ll have both our heads.”

“Whatever,” Ellie groans, opening up a new carton of oatmilk. God, she complains, why do queer women love oatmilk so much?

Despite the flurry of activity at the museum, you sat quietly humming to yourself in the back storage rooms. You put your anxious energy into your work, trying to focus on deframing old pieces. You made quick work of the frames, carefully utilizing a box cutter to slice the paper backing and removing the mat – the acid-free board that most of the artwork in the collection is taped to – from the plexiglass. As you work through this older collection, you evaluate the condition of each print and place it in a pile to either be put into storage or deaccessioned.

And yet, amidst the meticulous work of evaluating, your mind kept wandering back to Ellie and the uncertain exchange at the coffee shop. You couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation mixed with apprehension. What if you had misread her signals? What if your attempt at playful flirtation had come across as presumptuous? These questions circled endlessly in your mind, distracting you from the task at hand.

As you carefully removed the last print from its frame, you mentally checked off one of the various tasks on your todo list. The little remaining coffee from this morning had gone cold, a frown adorning your face as you rinsed the cup and tossed it in a bin. Your phone, which has been balanced precariously on the edge of your work station, buzzed softly.

[xxx-xxx-xxxx]: leaving your digits on my arm, huh? trying to make sure I don't forget you?

Your heart fluttered at the sight of her message, a mixture of anticipation and relief washing over you. She hadn't outright rejected your gesture, and her playful tone hinted at a mutual interest.

you: guilty as charged! wanted to make sure to leave my mark :p

[lonely-north-star]

eueueu thinking about the sillies 😭 someone on twitter called them that too and now it's stuck with me. my silly lil poly ship- HOW DID WE GET HERE IT WAS JUST A COFFEE SHOP AU IN THE BEGINNING

(p.s okay the last one got a lil suggestive AHAHA)

ajsjdj thinking about Paula and Solomon getting really into research and messing around with new ingredients and end up holed up in Solomon's room for hours. They'd definitely forget to eat until Mammon is barging in with a tray balancing three cup noodles and demands for them to pay attention to him and eat

Thinking about Mammon needing help with studying and Paula being so patient with him and explaining everything as best as she can, even drawing doodles to help him understand because she's a visual learner herself

Solomon and Mammon who text each other reminders throughout the day about things they need to do and checking up on each other because they're both bad with dates, but they'll never forget to text each other

Thinking about Solomon who will spoil both his partners because he loves seeing the smiles on their faces when he buys them something and the kisses that ensue of course

Thinking about Paula who shows up with their favorite drinks or snacks at lunch that were packed in her bag- And proceeds to deny any teasing from both of them. No, she DID NOT use her free period to walk to the convenience store because her boyfriends had a rough morning. That would be crazy. She just ... Happened to find them in uhhh... Vending machine... Yeah!

Back to the research thing- Mammon and Paula who team up to cling and hang off Solomon, and practically drag him to bed for cuddles because this man has been cooped up for 16 plus hours and they miss him (not that either of them would admit that. maybe Mammon)

Mammon who has his best shoots when his partners are behind the camera, watching him with slightly tinted cheeks. He winks at them and doesn't fail to notice the way Paula has to turn away immediately, gripping Solomon for support. What he does fail to hear is the way she mutters "I'm going to ruin him later." And Solomon's agreement.

okay that's all for now, these three live rent free in my mind all day, every day, 24/7

[everybodyshusband]

dinner and a movie

mushy may ; day seven !! (approx. 1.1k words)

(inspiration very much taken from @crimsonclergy's coffee shop au ! and of course, a huge thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting together the mushy may prompts <;3)

read under the cut, or on ao3 :)

“I’m taking this down to Mounty’s shop, I’ll be back!” Dewdrop yells out from the front, supposedly swiping the takeaway cup of tea that Rain has just heard him make off of the counter and making his way towards the door.

“‘Kay, I’ll watch the till!” Rain hollers back, emerging from the back room just in time to call out to Dew as the door swings shut behind him: “Practise safe sex!” There’s no one in the shop left to hear them anyway—Rain and Dew are the only ones working today, and all the customers disappeared after the mid-morning rush. Rain only just manages to catch a glimpse of the finger Dewdrop flips their way in response to their words, rolling his eyes endearingly as he makes his way to deliver Mountain’s tea to the florist next door.

“What’s all this about safe sex?”

Rain jumps; jolting so hard that they knock over the tin of biscuits they were trying to refill, spilling them all over the counter. “Fucking Christ, Swiss. How long have you been here?”

Swiss grins, wide and toothy. “Long enough.” Rain can’t quite decide if the twinkle in Swiss’ eye is charming or threatening. Having known Swiss for quite a few weeks now, it’s probably both.

They crouch down to pick up the few stray biscuits that have fallen on the floor, placing them aside while they work on refilling the tin properly this time. “So, Swisstopher Robin, what can I do you for?”

Swiss chuckles at the ridiculous nickname. “Well, Eeyore, I’ll have the usual, thanks.”

“Woah! Really?” Rain says, full of sarcasm, as if they don’t already have a pair of tongs in their hand, ready to take a muffin—strawberry and cinnamon, with a light dusting of cinnamon sugar over the top—out of the display cabinet and place it into a bag—usually with some silly doodle covering it that they draw before opening, specifically for Swiss; today it’s an axolotl trying to fit an entire muffin in its mouth.

“I know,” Swiss plays along, flashing Rain another charming smile that makes them go a little weak at the knees as they hand him his muffin. “Thought I’d change it up a bit today, you know?”

“Oh, naturally,” Rain laughs, busying themselves with the coffee machine. They can make Swiss’ coffee—well, it’s actually a hot chocolate with whipped cream and an extra marshmallow, which Rain makes in a coffee cup instead of one of the bright, colourful hot chocolate cups they’re supposed to serve it in. Swiss says it’s something to do with “having to look cool” and apparently a cute coffee cup isn’t the way to do that? Rain begs to differ; they only ever use the pretty takeaway cups, even on the rare occasions they opt for a caffeine hit—on auto-pilot now, so they chat away to Swiss as they work; asking about his day, what he’s been up to, and if the date he went on last night was a success.

“Nope,” Swiss sighs—much to Rain’s delight. “It was so boring.”

“Yeah?” Rain does their best to look sympathetic as they take a cup down from the top of the machine, but they can tell Swiss sees right through them. “What did you end up doing with him?”

“Dinner and a fuckin’ movie, Rainy. How boring is that!” Swiss emphasises his point by flapping his arms around wildly, almost letting his muffin go flying in the process.

Rain scoffs. “Dinner and a movie is the perfect first date, thank you very much.”

“Rainy,” Swiss deadpans. “You can’t possibly think that.”

“I can and I do, actually. Hear me out, okay?” They add when they see Swiss roll his eyes at them. “You have dinner with them and get to know them. You learn about their interests, what makes them tick, their favourite things, their least favourite things. Then you get to go see a movie with them! Maybe hold their hand a little, maybe grab onto them when you jump and get scared. Or, you know, if it’s not a first date…” Rain trails off, even as they note with glee the way that Swiss seems to be hanging on to their every word.

“Oh no, go on. I wanna hear this, Rain.”

“...Fine,” Rain agrees. “If it’s not a first date, and you’re both uh, feeling it.” They’re doing their best to voice their thoughts, but now they’re acutely aware of Swiss staring at them as they talk and make his drink, and suddenly he’s got stage fright.

“Aw, Rainy, where’d all that bravado go?” He teases, flashing Rain that fucking grin, again.

“I’m saying you can get them off in the back of the cinema, Swiss!” Rain hisses, their words come out all in a rush. They can feel the heat of a blush spreading over their entire face and neck.

Swiss blinks at them, stunned.

“Sorry,” Rain says, embarrassed. “Here’s your drink.” They place the finished hot chocolate on the counter in front of Swiss, turning his back to him—planning to walk into the back room and never emerge again—but before they get very far, Swiss grabs a hold of their arm.

“I, uh– I still need to pay.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rain mumbles, still refusing to turn around. “It’s on the house.”

The café is silent for a few moments, but Swiss doesn’t let go of Rain’s arm. “Then… Can you at least turn around so I can see your pretty blush?”

“My– what?” Purely out of shock, Rain spins around to face Swiss, and they watch as his pupils dilate at the sight of him.

“You heard me.”

“I did. But I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

Rain fumbles to find the words. “Because you’re– you’re you. I mean, look at yourself, Swiss. You’re the– the pretty one out of the two of us.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” Swiss asks, and Rain feels their brain short circuit, shut down, and reboot all at once at Swiss’ choice of pet name.

“I– I, um, I–?”

“Jeez, if I knew you were this easy to rile up, I woulda done it weeks ago.”

Rain blinks at him, too confused and flustered to do much else. “You… huh?”

“I’ve wanted to ask you out ever since I first walked in here, Rainy,” Swiss explains, surprisingly gently.

“O– Oh, shit.”

Swiss laughs, Rain thinks it’s one of the most beautiful sounds they’ve ever heard. “Yeah. I really like you, Rainy.”

Rain tries not to scream in excitement, and instead does their best to contain their joy to a little stimmy wiggle and a delighted smile.

“So… What do you say, sweetheart? Dinner and a movie?”

[saiyanandproud]

✏️💯🗒

Munday asks

✏️ — how long have you been roleplaying on tumblr?

A while! This blog started in 2016-17 so... (Gosh, sometimes it feels like yesterday)

💯 — share three random facts about yourself that your mutuals may not know about you.

I have been told I mimic the expression I am drawing while doodling. I never noticed until people pointed it out.

I can move my ears, and one of them is pointy.

While not a massive fan of chocolate, I could eat a whole bag of chocolate hazelnut cookies with a cup of tea.

🗒 — what is/are your favorite genre(s)/theme(s) to write?

Honestly? I like them all. I like to challenge myself with any kind of topic, so I'd be quicker listing the ones I am not comfortable writing: I do struggle a lot with fight/action scenes, because they always feel slow as I work on them, aaand... I guess stuff like incest, yeah. Big nope. And in term of more sensitive stuff...

In the context of rape scenes, I can see myself writing them if the narration actually required it. Some of the best books I read, like 'A Thousand Splendid Suns', are beautiful because of how painfully real they can be with scenes like these. Writing them properly requires sharp skills, though.

[thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles]

Teaching El about Christmas

Eleven Hopper x gn!Byers!reader

Byler, Elumax, Jancy, Steddie, Rockie

Warnings: N/A

WC: 0.4k

The First NoEl Masterlist

“Alright, El. What is this?” You hold up a poorly drawn picture of a Christmas tree.

El concentrated on the tree, biting her thumbnail. “A tree…” 

“What kind of tree?”

“A Chr… Christmas tree?”

“Exactly,” You high-fived her across the table. “You’re doing great, El.”

“Yay.”

“Next!” You held up a picture of a steaming mug, also poorly drawn.

“A cup…”

“Mmm, El. Starts with M.”

“Mug.”

“Of?”

“Does it start with a k?”

“A c, but they make the same sound. Good job.”

“Chocolate- cocoa! It’s a mug of cocoa!”

“What are you guys doing?” Will asked, coming into the dining room and rubbing his eyes.

“Christmastime quizzing. Are you just getting out of bed?” You held up a picture of a box with squigglies on top. “Keep going, El, you’re doing great.”

“I was tired, leave me alone. And it’s Thanksgiving, it’s not even December first.”

“A blue box.”

To Will, “So? Gotta teach her before we see it all.” To El, “Not quite, it starts with a p.”

“She can learn through advanced memorization and mentioning.”

“She can’t, we already tried it.”

“Pleasant?”

“You’re really close.”

“Pl…”

“Prrrr…”

“Present!”

“Good job!”

Will sat next to El, “Why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“Because you were asleep.”

“You need drawing lessons, Y/n.”

“All you can draw is Mike.”

Will reddened. “That’s not true!”

“Yeah, it is.”

El nodded, her attention on the drawing of the red ball with a hook sticking out of the top. “That is true.”

“Well, you can’t draw, so.” 

“I think not being able to draw is better than only being able to draw one thing creepy-good.”

“Okay, firstly, false. Secondly, Mike’s my best friend!”

“Bet he’ll be your boyfriend between now and Christmas.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Ornament. Right?”

“Yeah, perfect.” You held up the next drawing. “I’m so right, Dustin and Lucas are gonna--”

“The Grinch!” El cheered, taking the drawing from you and grabbing the pen that Will was fiddling with. She doodled her own version of the Grinch next to yours, hunched over in the Santa suit with a bag over his shoulder and a terrifying grin.

“See, now, El can draw. You can’t.” Will muttered, looking over El’s shoulder.

“I’ve already admitted that, Will. Go wake up Hopper and Mom so we can eat at three like we planned!”

“I’m not waking them up, are you crazy?”

“No. That’s why I didn’t wake them up myself.”

“Keep Christm-izzing with El. I’ll make breakfast and… do something else helpful.”

“Just wake up Jonathan!”

“He’s dead tired. He didn’t get here until like three a.m.!”

“You’re boring.”

“You wake him up.”

“No way!”

[raeharmonia]

Alone in my living room

Author's note: hello, im back with a quick drabble. Im having a terrible month and what better way to express my emotions than to write an Amaranthe drabble of it MSKKSMS

I was listening to Sleeping at Last's Space for Sleep album while writing this (i love Sleeping at Last one of my comfort artists fr) Also this was intended to be a Lymaranthe hurt/comfort fic but i ditched the idea lol it just doesn't sit right for me. This might be the reason why the first half is a bit weird sorryy qwq

Word count: 698, semi-proofread Tags: angst, very venty, brief Lyney appearance lol, weird attempt of writing an accurate description of making tea (tried my best), mention of a want to disappear, self-deprecation

The sounds of the bustling city overwhelms Amaranthe's senses, the people's overlapping chatter makes her head feel dizzy. Lately, she felt even more emotionally and physically drained than usual, constant voices of insecurities flooding her mind ever since.

She tried doodling something on her sketchbook in an attempt to comfort her troubled soul but to no avail. Erasing the unfinished lines as soon as it shows signs of failure, leaving Amaranthe to stare at the leftover marks of graphite on her paper with frustration.

Unfortunately, the walk that was supposed to drive those feelings away only drained her even more. The bright rays of the sunlight and the overwhelmingly loud sounds of the streets amplified her stress levels.

Her hand found its way at the nearest streetlight, leaning against the metal pole in an attempt to calm herself down. She needs something that will ground herself back to reality, desperately.

"My lady, are you okay?"

A voice nearby called, it was filled with worry rather than his usual flamboyant tone.

His voice sounds gentle and warm, she thought.

"Oh im alright, Mr. Lyney. Thank you for your concern." Amaranthe managed to force a small smile, its so painful that its chipping away her remaining energy.

But she has no choice, she can't let him know that she's in such a state.

"But your eyes tells me otherwise. The eyes are the window to someone soul is it no—"

"I said im fine! Can you please shut up for once?!"

Lyney's eyes widened at her reaction, shocked to witness Amaranthe's sudden outburst.

Her tone is firm and cold, as cold as a snowstorm. And her sharp gaze lacked it's usual shine, devoid of color and light.

"I- im sorry i didn't mean to... I need to be alone."

The smell of rainbow roses surrounded the living room as she opened the door of her home. Her stress dwindled as she takes in the comforting atmosphere that her home can only provide.

Amaranthe then boiled some hot water for tea and takes out a box of tea bags out of the kitchen cupboard. Once the water finishes boiling, she poured it into a cup and dunked two tea bags in it.

She grabs a couple of brownies from a paper bag that Charlotte left for her 3 days ago and placed them on a small plate. She brings her teacup and plate towards the living and placed them on the coffee table.

After some time, she brings the teacup near to her lips and blew on the her tea before taking a sip. The sweet and sour flavors of the drink soothes her mind quite a bit. She takes a bite of the brownie, the sweet chocolate flavor made a small smile creep up her lips.

The only things that are accompanying her silence are the soft winds of the outdoors and the soft ticks of her clock.

She looked up at the clock to check the time. Its 2pm. Usually at that time she would be drawing, but the fear of failure hesitated her from picking up her art supplies.

As much as she likes the moments of solitude, she cant help but feel a bit lonely. Without the sounds of companionship filling up the room to distract her, negative thoughts and insecurities began clouding her mind.

Do people really like her? Do they really mean whenever they say that she's amazing and talented? Or are they just pretending and lying to her face? People clearly like someone else who also does the same thing as her better and are only spending time with her out of pity.

She's not amazing. Far from that. She'll always besomeone who is boring and make nothing but horrendous art. Why would anyone like someone like her?

Sometimes, she just wants to disappear altogether.

"Liars." she muttered.

A tear fell down from her eye, landing on her tea which caused it to ripple in the cup.

She places her cup on her table as more tears falls down her face.

She lied down against the soft cushions of her sofa and began crying softly.

This was the 4th time she cried this week.

[incandscents]

☆ — (natalia dyer, she/her, cis woman) who is joseli ryan anyways? ew. you don’t know about her, we’ll bet you want to. she's feeling twenty-eight and painting feels like a perfect night to them. rumor has it they’re capricious and implacable because they care, but they’re also affable and tenacious in the best way. she works to make a little money as a songwriter / musician. they’ve rented a place on cornelia street in the form of woodvale apartments. long live and my tears ricochet are the songs they could dance to the beat of forevermore.

𓂅   GENERAL INFORMATION .

name: joseli powell ryan ( born joselyn leigh powell-ryan )

nicknames: josie, jo, jojo.

age / date of birth: twenty-eight, born on november 22, 1995

zodiac sign: scorpio / sagittarius cusp

gender: cis woman ( she/her/hers )

place of birth: asbury park, new jersey

sexuality: pansexual

occupation: songwriter, main songwriter & guitarist for electric touch

𓂅    THE STORY SO FAR .

potential trigger warnings — mentions of injury, surgery.

before she was good with her hands, she was good with her feet: joselyn, more affectionally called 'josie leigh' by her doting parents, was all over a soccer field at age five. age four consisted of her making daisy crowns on the sidelines of the game, and after her parents sitting her down with ice cream and telling her they'd make her give it one more go, "one more chance to be the best", she screwed her head on straight. being the best never felt like an option to joseli. it was an expectation, a standard. anything less would not suffice. age five brought a ruthlessness on the field beyond what was anticipated of the ymca rec league for children. she'd spend hours in her backyard curling soccer balls into the upper corners of the net, dribbling down an empty soccer field, orange slices between her teeth and a loose ponytail signifying the dedication she poured into her craft. she never did anything halfway or half-assed.

for joseli, the future felt like soccer. she wasn't good in school aside from the occasional writing assignment — poetry was where she shone, considering it was allowed to be as abstract as the general make-up of her brain — so she put all her chips into soccer. her devotion demanded hard work and she was willing to give it her entire being if that was what it meant. it didn't go unnoticed, either. joseli was invited to development camps hosted by us soccer and called up for the u-16 and u-17 teams. every step she took was angled in the direction of the goal of being drafted to play pro, making the senior national team roster, having a shot at olympic medals and world cup trophies.

senior year was when the cards started to fall exactly as she'd designed: a scholarship to play at stanford, a call up to one of the senior national team camps, a spot among the greats carved out just for her. and then she tore her acl in a spring season game, which required surgery, and an extended recovery time that stanford could not guarantee being able to hold her spot for — even if she was with the greats at one point, she was cut back down to size. the crash and burn of her soccer career knocked joseli back years. most people her age were stepping into their dreams, figuring out what they wanted to do, while joseli felt like she was seven years old again trying to discover the root of who she was all over again.

she did everything she wasn't supposed to in an attempt to burn the ashes of josie leigh. she changed her name legally to joseli powell and told stanford thanks, but no thanks in exchange for nyu classes that she'd be in debt for until she's steady growing grey hairs. she spent her time in the city, drawing in the field books she carried at least three of inside her bag and observing the world with her mindlessly rambled thoughts and doodles. where her feet failed her, her hands would be her savior.

growing up in asbury park meant joseli had quite the exposure to music & music history, staffs embedded in her bones and melodies buzzing under the surface. always whistling on the soccer pitch during drills and locker room cool-downs slowly evolved into the stupid, angsty poems she scribbled into napkins and on the insides of her arms finding chords and melodies. she went to open mic nights at bars and played shitty songs that no one other than the three drunks found good, but the thrumming of electricty was back in her blood that she missed so desperately once soccer was cut out from her life. the bitch was back.

spending all her time in another already oversaturated dream meant that joseli would really amp up the all gas, no brakes mentality as she went about climbing the newest mountain in her range and clambering for the top. create, consume, create, consume: her life was a vicious cycle of art and trying to become the best at something other people had already invested decades of their lives into. everything was a race for joseli, a competition with a winner and a loser, and she was familiar with blood in her teeth while she fought.

age old story: girl falls in love. girl moves to the city with big dreams and her lover, drunk on a daydream and hoping that the fairytale ending is in sight amongst the tears and bruises of rejection and the grind, the constant fucking grind that joseli almost needs in order to survive. and then it suddenly pays off, after the years of learning the city like it's a constellation of freckles on the back of her hand that she sees each time she picks up a pen, with radios playing the song and record labels asking for meetings, and joseli feels like she is flying. she is seventeen all over again, dreams coming true as she returns from saturn and begins to build a kingdom from her home. problem is, she's never been the best at figuring out when enough is enough. when there's a line, when not to cross it, when to apologize, when to make it right. she just doesn't understand how she can possibly be wrong when it means living a dream — she's already lost one, so is it any surprise she'd kill to see this one to fruition?

little does she know it's alllllll gonna blow up in her face and force her to grow up. again. :')

joseli's a cosmogyral — literally means ‘whirling around the universe,’ which is very much a perfect descriptor. she’s all over the fuckin place. she’s a hot mess. she’s constantly in new corners of her universe, reinventing herself and finding new pieces and parts to highlight while trying to bury others. loves hard, fights hard. warm until she is too hot to handle. she always means well but she’s quicksilver; she is never the same version of herself, she sticks to her guns until she decides she only wants to carry knives from now on. will charm the pants off of just about anyone she comes into contact with. flirty. a little goofy, wildly sarcastic. there’s method to her madness even if no one else gets it. is the passive aggressive type, bottles things up and simmers. stubborn as fuck, fiercely protective and neurotic. she’s almost thirty and she constantly feels like she’s living someone else’s life, no matter how many times she reinvents herself professionally or personally, and it is starting to wear on her soul.

𓂅    DESIRED CONNECTIONS .

meredith to her cristina — basically her best friend (not gender specific) who tells it to joseli like it is, doesn’t mind if she laments about how the world sucks every now and again, the person she’s calling if she needs help with a body.

joseli, for all her neuroticism, is quite friendly and sociable and overall A Good Time, is the type to make sure a stranger doesn't feel like one in a crowded room. casual friends, neighbors, people that jam out and get high on each other's couches, regulars at the same coffee shop: she doesn't bite (usually) so anything in that vein will work

i am also not opposed to a roommate for joseli 👀

someone who dr. phil's joseli and she just does not listen (bonus points if she tries to reciprocate and they too ignore the fuck out of her)

pr relationship ! — someone who joseli's management has partnered her up with to help promote electric touch's upcoming album. either they’re good friends or they hate each other, i’m up to anything

hookups, friends with benefits, ‘we have casual sex because it’s fun to rile each other up,’ exes of all flavors — joseli is pansexual and a mega flirty hot mess so anything works !

childhood friends, friends who are only friends because their agents told them to play nice, friends that have definitely fought in a club or a bar before even though they went in together holding hands, friends who are only friends with her to benefit from it, good influence / bad influence, friends who are forced to be pr enemies and are secretly laughing at the media in private, friends who are only friends when they’re drunk

ANGSTY SHIT — a plot based off of ‘wrong’ by ally hills, “bad for me but i keep coming around,” someone joseli calls late at night because she doesn’t want to be alone, a plot based off come back be here by taylor swift except they actually came back and it’s like wtf do we do now

gimme a girl that joseli is rlly in love with but she’s lowkey sabotaging their relationship because she is absolutely batshit crazy right now trying to sew all her dreams together to keep them from imploding and she does not know how to prioritize ! and she has to actually decide if this is in fact the worthwhile fight #iykyk

everything and anything, really, feel free to hit me up on discord @/lizolsen and we can plot up all kinds of magic together :')

[gabriel-landeskog]

Cale/Nate + coffee and doodling?

so instead of doing a coffee shop au like i originally planned for this prompt i wrote a little piece set in the nate/cale cowboy au i'm currently in the midst of writing. so while reading this imagine nate + cale are speaking in like texas cowboy accents lmfao

When Nate wakes Cale’s already up, sitting by the fire pit with his head bent over his notebook, pencil scratching over paper. It smells like coffee - Cale must’ve found the coffee grounds in the saddle bags and started brewing up a cup.

“G’morning,” Cale says, once Nate’s gotten dressed and wandered over to where he’s sitting. Cale still looks a little sleep-rumpled, hair poking out from under his hat and eyes not fully open. Nate wants badly to reach out and touch.

“Mornin’,” Nate grunts back, and sits down next to Cale, allowing himself a brief brush against Cale’s shoulder. Cale smiles at him, soft, and hands him a cup brimming with coffee.

“For you,” he says.

“Thanks,” Nate says. It’s nice and hot, warming his hands in the sharp morning cold. He takes a sip. It’s good, better than the drudge that Mikko usually makes in the mornings. “Shit, how’d you make this taste so nice?”

Cale laughs. “That’s a secret,” he says, taking a sip from his own cup. “Learned from my momma.”

“Well, tell her thank you from me,” Nate says, downing the rest of the cup in one go. Cale hums, goes back to writing in his notebook. Nate peers at it curiously. “What’re you writing in there, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, I’m not writing,” Cale says. “I’m drawing.” He flips his notebook around and shows Nate. It’s a sketch of the surrounding forest - tall trees covered in not-yet-melted snow, the horses grazing nearby, jagged mountains in the far distance. It’s gorgeous.

“Well I’ll be goddamned,” Nate says, mouth dry. “If that ain’t the best drawing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Cale looks down and blushes, turning his cheeks pinker than they normally are. “I - no, it’s alright. No need to exaggerate.”

Nate scoots closer to Cale, bumps him with his shoulder. “I’m being serious. You’ve got some real talent right there.”

Cale’s still blushing, refusing to meet Nate’s eyes, but he leans into Nate. “Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“You’re welcome,” Nate says, and thinks, as the two of them sit side by side in the morning light, I could get used to this.

[hocuspocusbylooble]

Sorry I needed to say this again more calmly to satisfy an urge and it's not required reading or anything but

Random and self-indulgent, already mentioned in a freak out to no one and everyone. Mentioning it again because it's nagging at me

I had a ~15 y/o burgundy DSi XL with a copy of Dragon Quest IX: Sentinels of the Starry Skies in it that I haven't seen since before my partner's ex-roommate left. It also had 2 brain training games and a doodle animator pre-installed. I had it since I was 14, and it has childhood memories on it, pictures, drawings, animations. It has 15 years worth of memories on it. It has one awkward animation my best friend drew when we were 15-16.

I would not assume it was the ex-roommate if the cat jar and several cups of mine hadn't also gone missing. If the cat jar turns up, I will update and say so. He also tried to replace one of the cups when I got upset over a missing mug, which... he replaced it with a cup that wasn't exactly like the old one, so that's how I became aware he was responsible.

He also had plastic stained (as in too dirty to ever be clean again) flamingo bowls he never used and didn't value enough to take with him, but he used our new bowls that he also ate out of to feed cats outside. When they would fall off the porch and roll underneath, he wouldn't look for them. He would use another. Now they're all gone.

I saw the bowls as a mistake. He washed dishes and cleaned more than anyone else. He was not the worst roommate and his problems with us were justified. But destroying/stealing possessions, including medication and my irreplaceable DS, are too fucked up. And he did not have a conversation with us about a lot of it until after things went missing and were destroyed. A lot of it, he never had a discussion with us about at all. And I have reason to believe he saw me struggling and suffering enough.

Sorry, I deleted the paragraph about my adderall before posting this. Now I've edited it a lot so whatever. But he threw away a CVS bag that very obviously contained a full pill bottle and I spent hours trying to find it. It was in the nasty outdoor trash can. If I hadn't found it, I would have been screwed for the rest of the month. I had just bought it, it hadn't been opened, so that was an entire month's worth of adderall. I left it in the living room by accident, he threw it in the trash, and there was no way he couldn't have noticed the noise, the weight of it, the movement of the pills. I took that into account when I found it and it was too hard to believe it was a mistake.

And I never made a problem about anything he did wrong to me because I felt like I was worse. But in hindsight, it bothers me a lot more now. It never happened while we were in the same room. I wasn't aware of any of it until after the damage had already been done, and I felt too guilty over other things to make a problem about it.

He never had a conversation with me or tried to talk about any of his problems with me. He did one time, during one bad incident, and he was very helpful that one time, and he showed he had the ability to be reasonable and considerate during that one incident, but only after he had left me on read and given me the silent treatment before. And he was very nonverbal, which was why I never wanted to hold it against him. I have trouble talking to people I feel awkward with, and I know it can be taken as silent treatment, but this was “silent treatment” since it was over text and he left me on read.

I would have preferred negotiating repayment with him over time instead of having my possessions stolen or destroyed, but now I don't feel indebted to him at all.

I feel like he was impulsive and destructive when he was angry at worst, and maybe felt entitled to stealing things instead of asking to be paid back, and nothing much worse than that. If either the cat jar or the DS shows up, I will update this.

[tekni-kali]

Day 225

09:57p, Saturday, June 09, 2023

Uhm....soooo 176 days since I typed out a post for the blog. Coooooolll.....I made my way back...eventually? Let us see how long I stick around this time. I would like to try my best to make something somewhat consistent.

We'll see...

I revived my iPod Mini today. I took a picture of my desk and thought it looked neat, so that's kind of what brought me back here...Here's the picture:

Things I see:

Apple iPod Mini

Left Nintendo Switch Joycon

Nintendo 3DS XL

Laptop

USB Extender adaptor thingie

Cup of Pens

Digital Pen for computer graphic drawing doodles

Christmas lights plug

My Cup!

4 stickers of my art

Hollow Knight stickers from amazon

The desk mat

the hdmi splitter button

Warm ikea lamp

Monitor stand!

Okay...thats enough of the things I see in the picture. I like the idea of using the iPod mini again. I wore it on the walk to 7/11 and it worked out really nicely clipped to my shirt and holding the bag in place....I didn't have to fiddle with it at all!! The one thing I may try to investigate to replace for improvement is the headphone/earbud situation. These hot pink jlab beauties were on clearance for eight fiddy at the local wal greens. The bass is distorted but the noise isolation is nice.

Now I am curious as to whether there is a bluetooth adaptor that I can connect my earbuds to then plug the 3.5mm into the ipod to play through it....

That's what I'll look up next. I'll come back in a bit maybe.

-10:05p

10:25p -

Well...that was fun. I didn't look that up yet but I did want to come back and write a bit about my day...so maybe I'll try to do that?

I washed the dishes. I did a driveby someones house to pick up free chairs from their front lawn. I panicked and drove away....then came home and re-arranged my music files and revived the iPod. I collected Behb from work we'd made plans to go to the state park again....by the time we left the house we would've gotten there at 4 and the park closes at 5:30.....traffic was very bad because of all the holiday events. They had every turn around closed so I essentially just spent 30ish minutes driving around what normally should be a 5 minute square. I was very annoyed.

When we got home I boiled two eggs, fucked up peeling one of them and just threw it away. Then Behb suggested an idea for an activity...popcorn and movie night! He didn't think we had popcorn, I told him there was some in the pantry....it was too expired to eat so we walked down to the gas station and bought a bag to pop deciding along the way that we'd watch Die Hard....cuz...christmas movie - holiday festivities and what not.

I strung up lights last night! First I stuck the command strips to the glass on the window and they didn't stay....then I stuck them to the wall and clipped one of the three wires in there and they haven't fallen down yet! I also strung some over the picture and hung up the two christmas arts his family gave us last year...those combined with the christmas tree wax warmer and we're officially festive!

But newai....

When we returned home, we learned that Die Hard isn't streaming on any of the streamy services we have, and we didn't want to pay $3.99 to rent it once.....so I started scrolling....and suggested: Scooby Doo Movie (2002ish) or Jumanji (1995 w/ Robin Williams).

Behb popped the corn, brought a beer, and picked Jumanji. Turns out....ITSA CHRISTMAS MOVIE TOO! At least...Christmas was in it....so...that counts. I honestly don't think I'd seen it before...but it was a good watch and I was entertained so I'm glad it worked out.

Tomorrow is Behbiversary! It will be 4 years since we swiped n started conversing. I am glad we are progressioning together. I'm going to look for strawberries and chocolates for us to make after he's off tomorrow. He got me roses ^_^. Okay...gonna go click around...I think I'll be back soon...I think I want to add some more...but a break now would be nice. So...ye...brb

-10:34p

10:35p-

You know...I just thought...I can probably use the 3.5mm aux cord to plug the Mini into the JBL Flip....then I get iPod muzik on loud speaker....that will be a tomorrow try...I do want to get up for my earbuds now though....IDK, it just seems silly using it in the apt.

10:45p-

I got my earbuds! and found sum muzik:

I think I'll get some screenshots off the switch to post up here. I think I decided I don't want to put pictures in this post...but I"ll work on organizing them to post separately like I did before....but...ye...this seems long enough...so...I'm gonna post it now.

Catch ya later!

-10:46p

[statticscribbles]

Doodle

Summary: Newt/Reader; Soulmate AU,whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmates

All throughout school you’d catch doodles and scribbles on your arms; occasionally the faint sketch of some creature but mostly small flowers or magically drawn birds. You’d never figured out who it was during your time at hogwarts; but when you started working in the ministry; the drawings became a comfort, you often wonder if they play a role in your decision to work in the Magical Creature’s department. You don’t usually respond to the drawings, they either appear in places you can’t easily reach due to your clothes covering them; or you’re working on gathering information and trying your best to do research about the creatures everyone wants to destroy. You hate how wrong that feels and you take more comfort in the drawings of the creatures as if they’re being studied, not hunted; soon lists were added; odd ingredients or items. It was a silly habit but you found yourself buying the plants that were most commonly listed as well as keeping a small hoard of galleons for whatever kept stealing your soulmates. You’d never actually talked to him; but one day after he angrily scraped three underlines under ‘liquid seaweed’ did you draw a small frowning niffler next to it; you added a speech bubble and the words “that stung” colouring in the tears. The reaction was immediate; swirls and flowers and branches suddenly heated your skin, magically drawn on. It sunk in your soulmate never realized you’d returned the doodles; just that they had forgotten how much they’d drawn on themselves.

I’ve never thought I would have a soulmate all my time at ----------- I couldn’t ever remember seeing drawings. You frown and the gap in the sentence; you knew locations and names wouldn’t go through. You draw the niffler again; sitting on your wrist and adding a speech bubble filled with magic hearts I always thought you were too busy with whatever you do.

Research. He responds and draws a heart around the niffler.

You like nifflers? You ask and he draws another bunch of hearts before adding. They're cute but they steal everything shiny he adds a frown and you cross over it grinning as you draw yet another niffler holding a heart. They just want love is all; and all your shinies. You look up jumping when you see Thesues Scamander standing in front of your desk looking unimpressed.

“Sorry sir; what can I do for you?”

“I need the report from the incident with the grindylows from the other day. Murklow said that it could be a cover for a Grindelwald meeting.” You nod pulling your sleeve down and waving your wand to pull the report he’s asking for.

“Here you are sir; anything else?”

“Were you talking to your soulmate?” You flush a little at his question, nodding.

“Well if he likes nifflers as much as you; ask about other creatures?”

“Oh that’s a good idea sir!” You grin and he smiles softly.

“Call me Theseus, Y/N.” You nod, waiting until Theseus leaves and then scribbling on your arm a question that your soulmate leaves blank for two hours. Do you like magical creatures or are you like most others? You’re not sure what you’re expecting but you receive a paragraph along your thigh with only a few of the words blanked. You read through all of it twice grinning at how passionately he talks about how misunderstood most creatures are. You draw a niffler offering a heart out and then ask Have you read Fantastic beasts and where to find them? It just came out; I love it. You grin to yourself when a string of hearts answers your question. What do you think of the author? You chew your lip jumping when your boss calls you for a new case. You scowl at the information; most of the department still believed in the older information of most of the magical creatures. The new case was investigating a group of knarls that were nearing a muggle area. You spend the rest of the day gathering as much information about the area the knarls were last seen and what you’ll need to capture and relocate them.

Sorry work got busy; I love the author, he seems so kind and wonderful. You offer frowning when there’s no reply.

“Y/N!” You turn when you hear your name called and are surprised to see Thesues walking over.

“Yes?”

“You’re working on that Knarl case right?” You nod letting Theseus update you on the whereabouts, apparently the knarls were only in the muggle area because there’s a Jarvey that took over there home.

“A Jarvey.” You scowl sighing.

“Thank you Theseus; this makes dealing with it a lot easier; at least I can sort of talk to the Jarvey.” You roll your eyes and he grins.

“You off home now?”

“No; I’m off to go see if I can find the Jarvey; or the Knarls.”

“You think you can talk to them?”

“The Knarls yes; the Jarvey, hopefully.” You wave goodbye to Theseus as you take the floo network home.

Do you know about Jarvey’s? I have to deal with one soon. You wait for a reply as you pack a bag; drumming your fingers as you get no response before you apparate to the area that the report said they were in.

To catch one? You nod before writing yes. All you get is a half sketch half doodle of a niffler, with a heart and it making what you assume is a thumbs up gesture.

You groan waking up after having spent most of the night trying to convince the Jarvey to leave the Knarls alone and find a better home. You’d been called a bitch and vermin about fifty times before you’d gone to speak to the Knarls; the Jarvey had been offended enough to counter offer your idea of leaving the Knarls home to find a new one for himself. That was after he’d angrily scraped at your arm; almost tearing through the doodled nifflers.

You managed to agree to rehome the Knarls away from the muggle area; and even offered the Jarvey some moles you’d managed to gather before you’d gone to meet them. You’d gotten as close to a thank you as possible from a Jarvey and he even offered to come with you to the ministry to explain what you’d agreed with. You’d assured him while you appreciated it; you didn’t like the idea of him being captured. He’d then drawn a crude sort of star on your palm with a black marker he’d found and you’d returned to the ministry with the Knarls in a cat carrier with blankets charmed to stay warm.

“Good morning Y/N.” Thesues grins and you nod yawning.

“Late night?”

“Yeah; but I got the knarls.”

“You got the knarls?” He looks down to the case and you grin.

“And the jarvey?”

“He’s enjoying his new home and the snack I brought him.”

“You fed the Jarvey? And talked to it?”

“I mean I don’t know how much of a conversation it was; I was explaining everything going on and he kept calling me a bitch.” You shrug setting the knarls; which continue to sleep under your desk as you start to work up the report.

Did it go okay? You grin at your soulmates question, drawing a crude doodle of the knarls in the carrier. We all survived. Minus my pride. You don’t look at the response for a while finishing up the report and waiting till lunch to find your supervisor to ask about relocating the knarls.

The jarvey decided to knock me down a peg. Beside the explanation you doodle the jarvey with an angry face and a little speech bubble with the words bitch and vermin in it. The only response is a frowning face.

Since you know so much about magical creatures; where's the safest place for me to bring the knarls? You chew your lip hoping that wherever he describes won’t be blanked out. Suitcase. Or a large field with plenty of hedgerows; anywhere a hedgehog would live. You nod drawing a circle and question marks around the word suitcase.

“Y/N where are you off to?” You hold up the case, the knarls chattering at you and you frown.

“I’m sorry guys; I just have to have a quick chat and we can get you a nice big field and some new worm hunting grounds.” They chitter again and you sigh.

“I’m heading to drop the knarls off to a much better home.”

“Your soulmate give you advice?” Theseus grins as he walks up spotting the carrier in your hands.

“Apparently I need a suitcase.” You laugh showing Thesues the writing on your arm. He nods glancing from the knarls to your arm and back to you. He doesn’t say anymore simply turning away back towards his department. You shrug and leave the ministry building to apparate to one of your favourite spots in the countryside. You glance to the abandoned cottage before nuding the door open and opening the carrier to let the knarls wander out.

“There we are. Is this an okay spot?” You hum as the knarls seem to vanish. You make a note to check back on them in the coming weeks. You know you still have time for lunch but you decide to return back to the ministry to avoid rushing and being able to have a cup of tea in peace. You’re sitting in the lobby people watching when you can see a figure stagger out from the floo network and almost tackle Theseus to the ground. You try not to laugh when Theseus grins hugging the figure as the figure seems to hang limply in his grip for a moment before his head swivels looking around.

“It’s lunch right now.” You can hear Thesues’ voice and you note how the man next to him wilts. You try your best not to laugh at them returning to your tea before you can feel eyes on you. You don’t say anything feeling the faint scratch of a pen on your arm. Turn around and wave. You roll your eyes turning and waving. The man next to Theseus stares at the ground while Thesues moves towards you.

“Y/N. How’s lunch going?”

“You lost your friend.”

“My brother actually, Newt; come over here and say hello to Y/N she works in the department for magical creatures.”

“Oh; hello.” He walks slowly over extending his hand and you catch a familiar black star shape on his palm.

“Your soulmate?” You question and he nods.

“No clue what they mean by the star; but it’s nice to finally talk to them.” He grins slightly and you laugh a little nodding.

“What about you?” Thesues comments and you look down to your palm at the star shape.

“The Jarvey I talked to earlier. He decided it was a parting gift.” Newt steps closer to examine it; his fingers brushing over your palm; barely touching it.

“Is this the same jarvey that called you a bitch and vermin? I might have to have a word with him.” He mumbles and you try your best not to give anything away with how Newt keeps side glancing to Theseus.

“I was wondering; since you’re the expert here; I dropped the knarls off to a new area; and I don’t know if it’s a proper place for them..” You trail off and can see Thesues roll his eyes.

“You two enjoy your talk about knarls; remember lunch is over in twenty minutes.” Thesues reminds you and you nod waiting as he leaves before you look up at Newt.

“Hey.” He grins watching as you press your palms together to match the stars up.

“Your drawings are much better than my doodles of a niffler.”

“I thought they were very true to reality.”

“Is this why you mentioned a suitcase.”

“Yes; did it help you catch on?” he tilts his head and you gasp. He grins as Pickett pokes his head out.

“Not now Pickett.” Your hand drifts upwards and Pickett’s hands reach towards you and climbs on your hand.

“Oh. Hello there sweetheart. Aren’t you just the most impressive bowtruckle I’ve ever seen.” Pickett taps his little hands on your figner nails and Newt sighs.

“His ego is big enough; please don’t lie to him.”

“It’s the truth. No harm in reminding him. He really is incredible though. His leaves are a beautiful green shade.” You grin and Pickett taps faster on your hand before scurrying towards your shoulder as Newt reaches for him.

“Pickett no!” he scolds trying to grasp at the bowtruckle as he hunkers down  on your shoulder.

“Newt it’s alright; I can show you where the knarls are anyways.” He looks towards the clock and you catch your supervisor's attention.

“Yes Y/N.”

“I dropped the knarls off sir; is there anything else?”

“Oh good; we have two new cases one involving; what else were you going to ask.”

“Well sir; I’ve just found my soulmate and I was hoping-“

“Go home! Talk with each other. For Merlins sake Y/N; you have enough vacation days regardless of  the soul week you get to spend off. Go on.” He nods and you grin.

“Thank you.” You grin and Newt waves to him, you laugh a little when he falters and glaces to both of you.

“Theseus is going to kill me.” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes; I was just talking about how I finally realized I do have a soulmate and he all but demanded to see what we’d written. He lost it when he saw the writing; I guess I know why. He recognised your handwriting.” You smile at him nodding to the Floo network.

“Here; hold my hand.” Your hand twines with his as you step into the floo-place and close your eyes speaking the area of the countryside.

“Here we are.” You grin and Newt looks around.

“This seems perfect for knarls.” You grin back at him.

“Now may I show you the first option?”

“The suitcase?” You look confused and he grins holding his hand out. You close your eyes; you’re not sure why but Newt grins.

“Okay open!” you spot his face; halfway obscured by a young Occamy curling around his neck.

Support My Writing?

[mischief-marauders]

It is my personal headcanon that while James could be kind of an asshole, he’d be the best friend anyone could have because he cares so much.

Hair Ties

Sirius started breathing harder and fanning his face. The common room was stifling and the open windows didn’t help. His shirt was already unbuttoned to the point of being obscene and his hair was making the heat worse.

Sirius looked up startled as James sighed in annoyance and got up. He yanked Sirius’ hair back from his face and started tying it in a knot at the back of his head with the hair tie from his wrist

“What’re you doing? And why do you have a hair tie?”

James scowled at him. “You don’t have enough sense to carry one and you’re dying right now with your hair in your face”

Sirius let out a yelp as James pulled his hair again.

“Sorry. I’m still learning. Lily’s been teaching me.”

Sirius turned slightly in his chair and grinned at James.

“You’re learning how to tie hair just for me? Careful Potter, I might get the wrong impression-“

Sirius yelped mid sentence as James yanked his hair back once more.

“Sorry”, James said sweetly.

Medication

James slammed the little cup rattling with pills in front of Remus.

“I don’t have-“

“Here” James said as he slammed a bottle of water on the table in front of him.

Remus opened his mouth but James spoke up again.

“And before you say that you need to take your pills with food, you don’t. I checked beforehand and even if you did, I have a sandwich and a granola bar neatly wrapped in my bag”.

“Ok but”-

“The sandwhich is ham and cheese, no Mayo. The granola bar is chocolate chip and doesn’t have any nuts in it. Yes I remembered your food allergies and preferences. Now take the damn pill”.

Remus scowled but inwardly felt a flood of relief and love for James. He snatched the granola bar and ripped it open as James watched him with a small grin on his face.

Anxiety

James looked over in annoyance. Sirius was bouncing his knee and picking at this hands during history of magic. Walburga had written a letter this morning that had left Sirius red faced at breakfast. He didn’t know it was that bad until he saw some blood on Sirius’ nail beds from the constant picking.

James leaned down and grabbed a marker from his bag. He pulled his sleeve up and handed the marker to Sirius.

Sirius looked down in confusion.

“What is this?”

“Stop picking your skin. Just doodle on my arm. Lily says it helps with anxiety.”

Sirius averted his eyes.

“No James, that’s em-“

“Anxiety isn’t embarrassing and I don’t mind. Just stop picking at your skin and at least try to look like you’re paying attention”.

Sirius uncapped the marker and started drawing on James’ arm, occasionally looking up and pretending he was paying attention. He felt the panic and anxiety slowly flood away as he worked on designs from James’ wrist to his elbow.

“Oh and if you draw a penis on my arm, I’ll smack the shit out of you”

Sirius laughed quietly as he put the finishing touches on a life-like ball sack on James’ forearm.

“Too late”.

Sweater

Remus tried. He genuinely tried to hide his shivering. They had been at Hogsmeade for about an hour and Remus was freezing. James’ had told him various times to bring a jacket but he kept ignoring him and now he was shaking in his tee shirt. He tried to hide that he was cold because he hated proving James’ right. But he knew James noticed when he saw the scowl on his face.

“James, don’t say it-“

“I told you! I told you it was cold but you never listen to me”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’ll survive-“

James had already taken his quidditch sweatshirt off and was pulling it on Remus.

Remus struggled against him and turned slightly red as Sirius and Lily laughed at them. “James stop. You’re going to be cold”.

James shrugged as he finally pulled it over Remus’’ head, messing his hair up in the process. “I have more muscle mass and I don’t get cold. Scrawny ass motherfucker”.

Remus grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. The sweater was oversized, warm, and smelled nice. It smelled safe and secure. It smelled like James.