#flower shop au's

[ahresprite]

flower x coffee shop au ☕️💐

[minimiaarts]

The Shadamy Flower Shop/Tattoo Parlor AU is real and rotting my every waking thought 😔🫶🏼

[the-skeleton-in-ur-closet]

<3

it’s ok it’s just a little.

[vxmp-irate]

tattoo shop au ?!?

allura owns a tattoo shop and pidge is her right hand man. they mainly do piercings while allura does tattoos, and keith is an apprentice at the shop after he graduated college with an art degree

keith has no tattoos cuz he’s afraid of needles (silly hc)

ill also be drawing flower shop drawings of lance, hunk, and shiro so stay tuned

[thebibliosphere]

I think I’ve been playing too much Garden Life/reading too many Nightwing comics.

The two merged last night into an absolutely surreal dream where I’d been kidnapped by Deathstroke the Terminator to work in a flower shop as some nefarious plan to lure Nightwing into rescuing me. All the while he’s monologuing about how there’s no escaping so don’t even try.

And I remember looking at the beautiful garden outside the window and the rose cuttings scattered across the workbench in front of me like and being like, “Oh deary me, what a conundrum. How will I ever survive this hellscape? Hey, Mister The Terminator, sir? Do you want me to make these roses into a bouquet for the twink you’re trying too hard to get the attention of, or nah?”

(I did not get a response. I made them into a bouquet anyway.)

And then at some point Nightwing showed up while I was planting black and orange roses in the garden (subtle), and he was all like, “I’m here to rescue you!” and I once again looked around my surroundings, looked down at the cat sleeping in the pouch of my garden apron, and replied, “No thanks. I’m good...”

Assigned NPC/hostage in the Sladick Flower Shop Au by my own brain. Fucksake 😂

[definetelynotavampire]

art trade skk flower shop au for @thatkarleesidraws :D

AU where they made Dazai go to therapy and now he's working in a flower shop. He knows nothing about flowers or how to care for them and gives terrible advice to his customers.

[bilosan]

buddie + flower shop au

(9-1-1 // gif prompts)

[quail-in-red]

it's not you, it's my enemies + coffee shop

66. It’s not you, it’s my enemies + 4. Coffee shop AU

plus bonus florist AU!

Trope Mashups!

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 2 3 4 5 6 7 💐

The first time Eddie visited Harrington Floral at Starcourt Mall, it was after he’d finished band practice and had a craving for an Orange Julius. If Californians were good for one thing, it was making smoothies.

It was the mountain of flowers being assembled in the window display that caught his attention, stopping him in his tracks on his way out. Eddie stood there with his guitar case slung over his back, slurping his way through frothy orange goodness as he watched.

The florist was biting his lip as he carefully adjusted the position of a baby blue delphinium. A strand of hair fell into his eyes. The arrangement was called Take My Breath Away, according to the cue card in front of it.

Eddie’s breath certainly had been. He was completely enthralled as the florist’s huge hands expertly handled those delicate little flowers. He hadn’t bent a single petal.

The florist seemed to realize somebody was staring and glanced up—and weren’t those some of the warmest, puppy dog brown eyes Eddie had ever been caught by?

“Gorgeous,” he mouthed, winking and gesturing towards the arrangement, though he was talking about both man and flower.

The florist squinted and frowned at him, pointing at his ear and shaking his head.

Eddie grinned and shrugged. Ah, well.

A customer in the store caught the florist’s attention because he suddenly glanced behind himself, wiped his hands off on his green apron, and then left the window.

Rocking on his heels, Eddie turned to leave, but he spent the rest of the day thinking about the cute brunet and his pretty blooms.

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

[lilyerida]

reylo flower shop AU 🪴

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab florist!reader, single dad!miguel (absolute dilf material), his daughter is implied to be alive, implied biker miguel, overstimulation, creampie, use of mami, choking, poorly translated spanish, praise *not proofread, just pure horny

[im vibrating at the speed of light 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️] I lost the plot, I'm just horny

MINORS DNI!! (fanart is from ramunaeee on twt)

if someone had told you that the handsome biker dad of the young girl that stops by your quiet little flower shop would find an interest in you, you would've laughed in their face. but now, you've got more than one thing to ride.

with his daughter gone for the day with her grandparents, the house was eerily quiet, save for the pornographic sounds that spill from the crack of the doorway.

the sounds are raw and lewd, heat rising to your cheeks as you let your body be handled by Miguel. his nails are digging into your hips as he loves your body along his cock. your hands are on his chest, keeping you upright as you meet his thrusts halfway.

"Eres tan jodidamente buena para mi. so fucking good, cariño." his moans make your body heat up as your pussy gushes around him. you move your hands up to his neck, holding the back of his head. you tangle your fingers in his hair as his cock twitches and pulses. "make a mess on me mami, fucking do it." the rasp in his voice is like a trigger, pulling your body taut.

Miguel fucks you through your orgasm, his hand reaching between you to rub at your clit. with no restraint, he roughly turns you over, hiking your hips up. he pulls out briefly, grinding his cock against your sloppy cunt. his harsh grip on your hips returns as he resumes his heavy thrusts. "tan jodidamente apretado. todo para mí, ¿sí?" your moans and cries are muffled by pillows, letting your body go lax under his touch.

his hands smooth up and down your back, before he leans down to trail kisses up your spine. one hand is back on your hip while the other pulls your face away from the pillows by your throat. your body feels like it's on clouds, relying on Miguel to hold you up. "mierda.. give me one more, I know you can. cum for me, baby." the hand on your hip moves to your swollen cunt, drawing figure eights on your twitching clit.

"you're such a good girl for me, mami. tomándome tan jodidamente bien." you push your hips back against him weakly as Miguel draws out your orgasm. you can feel his cock twitch before a warmth spreads within you. Miguel goes near still as he lets your messy pussy milk him.

"una chica tan buena. mi buena chica."

[augustinewrites]

“let me take you to dinner tonight.”

you look up from the handful of tulips you’re binding with twine to meet reo’s expectant gaze. 

“no.”

“come on,” he grins, taking the bouquet and placing it with the others. “we eat together all the time. in fact, we’ve already shared one morning coffee and one afternoon picnic. that’s basically two dates.”

“you mean the morning you brought me an overpriced coffee and the afternoon you almost fought a pigeon over french fries in front of my flowers?” 

he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement, nodding fervently. “yeah. we’ve covered morning and afternoon. the next natural course of action is to have dinner together.” 

he must read the hesitation in your expression, placing a hand over yours. electricity zips through your veins, but you don’t pull away. 

“hey, no pressure. no expectations,” he tells you softly. “just think of it as dinner between friends.”

“can i at least think about it?” 

“of course.” he checks his watch. “you have about ten hours to decide because i kind of already made a reservation.”

of course he did. because for all of your banter, he knows you could never say no to him. 

“okay, fine, i’ll go out with you. but only because you’re cute when you beg.” you decide, rolling your eyes when he does a quick fist pump. 

“i am cute, thank you. and i know i said to think of it as dinner between friends, but if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to kiss me, you have my complete consent.” 

“go to work, reo,” you laugh, gently pushing his shoulder. 

“i’ll text you the details!”

_____

reo isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. he’s always been great at first dates– better than average, some might say. but something’s different this time around. maybe it’s the restaurant’s lighting, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s his first date with you. 

he’d come a little early and ordered a bottle of wine, knee bouncing under the table as he scrolled through his phone in an attempt to chase his nerves away. 

thankfully it’s not long before he spots the hostess leading you to the table (a few more minutes and he certainly would have spiraled). he’s quick to stand, walking around the table to greet you.

“hi,” he says, handing you a bouquet of roses before pulling your seat out for you. 

“these are beautiful, thank you,” you say, reo beaming as you gingerly hug the blooms to your chest.

once you’re both seated, he sneaks a glance at you before opening his menu. you look a little nervous, restlessly shifting in your chair and shifting your gaze around the room. 

“i’m sorry,” you blurt, curling in on yourself as if you’re embarrassed. “this place is– i probably should have googled it first. i’m so underdressed, i feel like everyone’s looking at me...” 

“of course they’re all looking at you. you’re the prettiest person in the room.”

(and, oh man, the way you look at him when he says that…it was like being bathed in soft sunshine. he could sit there and bask in it all day.)

but you lift your menu to hide your bashful expression and reo reaches across the table to pour you a bottle of wine, just to give himself something to do with his hands. 

“everything’s so expensive,” you murmur. 

the restaurant he’d chosen was one he was familiar with, customary for business meetings. he supposed it was on the higher end of the price range, but it only added to his ability to impress. 

money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you a nice dinner and a pretty good bottle of wine. 

“i asked you out, i’m paying.” 

“we can just split it–” 

“it’s fine,” he waves off. “but if you insist, you can just cover the next one.”

you look up from your menu, amused. “we just sat down and you’re already asking me on a second date?”

he meets your gaze, grinning. “can you blame me?”

_____

despite the initial shock you’d received upon entering the restaurant, you slowly feel yourself begun to loosen up. maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that reo is…admittedly a really good date. 

(not just because he’s nice to look at, in a nice shirt with the two topmost buttons undone and trousers that hug his rear perfectly)

as the night wears on, you tell him a bit about yourself. about the things you like to do in your free time, your pet at home, how you ended up running a flower stall in the concrete jungle of downtown tokyo. he listens intently when you talk, asking questions here and there to convey his interest.

though he mostly keeps the conversation focused on you, he tells you about himself too. he talks about the recreational league he plays with on the weekends and the roommate that’s been his best friend since high school. he even talks about the charity gala he’s going to next weekend, representing his family’s business (it’s legit, you can google it! he laughs).

you actually know of the gala he’s talking about. it’s an annual fundraiser, and the order they’d put in at the flower shop you used to work at was one of the most expensive you’d ever seen. 

he insists on ordering dessert, the two of you sharing a piece of cheesecake as the night draws to a close. but before it does, you have to ask, 

“why did you ask me out?” 

he looks at you, seeming genuinely confused by your question. “what do you mean?”

you set your fork down, shrugging. “i’m not really your…type.”

“i have a type?” 

“influencers, ceo’s daughters, models…” you say, to list a few.

“you did google me when i was in the bathroom,” he laughs. he doesn’t seem offended, just amused.

you did google him, which is how you know he’s had a string of high profile relationships - and eventual breakups.

“your last date,” you remember. “why didn’t you see her again?”

he takes another bite of the cheesecake, chewing thoughtfully before answering, “nothing was wrong with her. she just weren’t right for me.”

“but i am?”

he pauses, then answers confidently, “i think you might be, yeah.” 

“is this the part where you tell me that we’re soulmates?” you tease, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours under the table. you’re trying to maintain a cool composure, but your heart is doing somersaults in your chest.

“no, because i’m a businessman,” he answers, nudging you back. “i believe in free will. when i see an opportunity, i just go for it. i’m not going wait for the universe to decide when i’ll get to be with my one true love.”

“so you believe in the human experience. subjective and objective choices. what about fate?”

“isn’t fate just a result of everyone’s choices? something inevitable, unavoidable.”

“description’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” you counter. “think of it this way, i chose to set up my stall outside the restaurant, but it was fate that you were heading into it that night, which led to me being in this moment with you.” 

“one could argue that was just coincidence,” he points out. 

“you could. but maybe it was serendipity.” 

“now you’re just making up words,” he laughs, prompting you to throw your napkin at him. 

then he leans his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin atop them. “to put it simply— i am here right now. it wasn’t some inevitable thing because i chose to be here. with you.” 

influencers, ceo’s daughters, models. he could be with anyone else in japan, but he chose to be here with you. at the beginning of the night, you weren’t really sure what to expect from him, judging from your brief encounters at your flower stall. you’d known he was decently charming, sure, but tonight you’re getting the full picture. 

and the way he looks at you now…it was like you hung the moon and stars. 

“i like when you say it like that,” you admit, feeling heat bloom across your cheeks. 

“the philosophy course i took in university is paying off then.” 

you’re about to do something completely stupid like kiss him when you realize just how quiet it is in the restaurant. you’d been so distracted, so enamoured with the man in front of you that everything else had blurred into the background.

you lean back to look around. it’s completely empty, save for the waitstaff and hostess. 

“did we stay past closing?” you frown, wondering how you’d lost track of time. 

“it’s fine,” he assures you, reaching across the table to place a hand over yours. “i told you i made a reservation.”

“for the entire restaurant?!”

again, he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement. “what did you think i meant?”

[domirine]

gonna be posting my avpol doodles individually!

this one is from a lil AU that takes place in a small ghibli-esque seaside town, avdol owns a flower shop and temporarily fosters iggy. polnareff does jackshit but helps at sherry's bakery every now and again (yes she's unfridged!). it's a wee wholesome summer story.

[papysanzonew]

Gaius shop is not doing well because it’s a small shop and Gaius can’t compare with bigger flower shops and their new “technological” way of advertising.

And here comes young Merlin, who will help his uncle with an Instagram account (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Obviously Arthur fell for the cutie florist (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

I don’t really wanna colour it so it will rest a semi-sketch

My other Merlin art

[thebibliosphere]

I don't know if I'll ever finish it, but occasionally, I am reminded that I started writing crackfic based on a dream I had after playing too much Garden Life and also reading too many Nightwing comics, and I'll open up the document and laugh myself sick at how awful a time Slade Wilson is having in my haunted flower shop AU.

He's been ripped body and soul out of his genre and into a cozy Hallmark movie with undercurrents of cosmic horror, and there's nothing he can do about it. Worst of all, the human he kidnapped is unkillable. At least by him.

---

Slade took a menacing step forward, then stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move another inch. "The fuck."

He looked down at his boots, struggling to uproot them from the dirt-strewn floor. When that failed, he gave up and took a desperate swing across the shop counter. The little witch didn't even flinch. She didn't need to. The same invisible force wrapped around his arm, holding it in place as he strained his outstretched hand toward her neck.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demanded, arm shaking as sweat began to bead down his brow.

"Me?" she asked, far too innocently, like butter wouldn't melt in that smug, annoying mouth. "Bless your heart, dearie, that's not me. That's the plot armor."

"Plot what?"

"Armor," she repeated slowly for him. "I know you're familiar with the word. I've seen that discounted Spirit Halloween ensemble you call a costume."

Slade snarled, renewing his efforts to crush her windpipe. "I know the word. What does it mean?"

"It means I'm protected. The story can't advance without me, so you're stuck with me." She smiled sweetly. "Lucky you."

"Story? What story? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"This one," she said, gesturing around them as though that explained anything. "The one we're in. The one you pulled me into. The one I can't leave until you figure out whatever the fuck you're supposed to be doing. So if you could hurry up and do that, that'd be great. I've got shit to do, and it doesn't involve holding your hand through whatever bullshit character arc crisis you're going through."

"Lady," Slade breathed out through gritted teeth, "you are fucking insane."

"Oh, sweety," she drawled, leaning across the counter and causing his arm to draw back of its own volition, not allowing him to get a hold of her throat, as she patted him condescendingly on the cheek. Clearly, whatever bullshit proximity magic she was pulling didn't apply to her ability to touch him. "You don't know the half of it."

[suokumi]

Flower Sun baby