#where the FUCK is my coffee shop au art

[porcelainvino]

hello ! not sure if ur still doing the klaine art requests, but if u are, can i please request a barista kurt / customer blaine sketch please ? <3 no pressure tho !!

yippee

(if anyone wants me to draw a klaine-related sketch, send in an ask :3)

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Checking In

Good day my fellow exhausted creatives, it sure does be A Time we're going through. There is certainly a lot of things happening at once, and like many of you I'm struggling to stay afloat while desperately playing catch-up. I'll be honest, shit's pretty damn fucked up. Sometimes it helps to take a step back and reflect on some reminders.

Don't panic.

People are facing a lot of hard choices when it comes to what platforms to use, and I know it's pretty tempting to burn everything down. Take a deep breath and think about your options. Nightshade and Glaze aren't perfect, true, but they're open about their limitations and are still tools you can use. Look into alternative word processors beyond Google Docs that won't have AI-scraping. Take your time deciding what to do with your creative output and where to share it. I am Old, and I have seen several social media websites crash and burn. You will always have more options.

Take care of yourself first.

I've seen a lot of people burning themselves out hard over things they can't control. Gaza, anti-LGBTQ issues, American politics, it's a whole lot and it's all overwhelming. You cannot accomplish anything if you don't take the time to put your oxygen mask first. Eat, sleep, turn your phone off when you feel yourself being sucked in. This seems obvious, but it's often the hardest thing to do, believe me I know. You gotta keep yourself going before you can help others.

Small things still matter.

There's a lot of things you can still do even when you feel like you can't. You can sign petitions, you can promote the activism of others. Vote in local elections. Keep yourself informed without drowning - check your news sources once a day rather than all the time. Talk to your friends, spend time with your pets, find ways to help in your local community (a great place to find resources is your library!). Go for a walk with a trash picking tool and a garbage bag. A small difference is still a difference.

Recharge Creatively.

It can be hard to do creative things when you feel like there's so many other important things to do. But being creative - creating art, writing a story, doing a hobby - IS important to yourself and others. Sometimes you have to force yourself to do so - I have to put "watch a movie" on my to do list, or I'll never make time for it. Go to a coffee shop and make art. Play that new video game. Write that silly coffee shop AU. These things are important to you, and they will carry through with what you want to do for others.

Do what you can when you can and you will make it through.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 1

-Imagine that after John Wick wins his freedom from the High Table, he [re]retires to your sleepy little mountain town, where you work in a coffee shop...

-Your quaint little town tucked in the mountains is the kind of place people go to get away from it all, and you can’t help but wonder what Mr. Wick is running from. He is an unfairly handsome man. You nearly make a huge fucking fool of yourself, the first time he approaches your counter, so taken that you could hardly speak. For all his good looks there is something compellingly melancholy about him. You see it in his soulful dark eyes, and the set of his shoulders. You can see this man carries a weight beyond what anyone of his years should bear.   

-He becomes a regular at your little coffee shop, and you get over your shyness with him. He’s soft spoken, sometimes a little grumpy, but usually impeccably courteous compared to some of your unbearably entitled clientele visiting from the Big City for the ski resort or the hiking. He never orders anything fancy, just black coffee, and he likes to stay for an hour or so in the cozy cabin atmosphere of your shop. He favors a corner table tucked in the back by the river-stone fireplace, usually reading an old book, though sometimes you think he just sits, his attention fixed beyond the page he’s on, eyes not really seeing the room.

-You manage not to stare too hard, when you see him without gloves for the first time, and realize he is missing his left ring finger. You are not repulsed. You just wonder what happened to him.

-In time you notice he barely touches his unadorned coffee, and you wonder if he even likes it. You don't know where you get the cheek to tease this so-serious man. “Do you just order it like that to match your clothes?” You’ve never seen him in anything but head to toe black.

At first he looks at you as though you have grown a second head. Then he answers, completely dead pan, “Maybe it matches my soul.” 

You snort with laugher, not believing him.

Maybe you should have, looking back.

“Sure, Mr. Wick.”

The next day you surprise him with a cup of something you concocted with him in mind. It's nothing too scathingly original. Just a dark chocolate mocha, with a splash of hazelnut, and just a bit of steamed cream. “Try this,” you say, setting it on his table totally unsolicited. You feel validated, for he's barely touched his black coffee again. 

“What is it?” he asks, peering at it suspiciously. 

“I just think you might need something a little sweet.” 

He looks up at you through his long hair, and you don't know why, but a little chill runs down your spine. It's not fear, exactly. It's like walking in the woods, and stumbling on a powerful animal on the trail. Something that maybe could eat you, if it chose, but instead just disappears back into the dark trees.

You do not pester him anymore that day, even if it is the highlight of your shift sometimes. But when you go to clean up his dishes you do notice the cup you gave him is empty. 

He doesn’t come in for almost a week after that, and you fear that maybe you were too pushy and pissed him off with your boldness. 

Maybe it's a little pathetic, the way your heart leaps when he walks through the door again.

“I’ll have…whatever that thing was you made the other day.”

You try not to gloat, but your lips twist in a smile.

-It becomes your little mission in life to make this man smile, and if just the corner of his mouth ticks up at some point during his visit you feel as though you’ve accomplished a good thing.

Maybe it’s totally a cliché, but you’re an artist, and when you’re not making coffee, or cleaning up coffee, you draw bright designs on the chalkboard around the menu with your pastels. You make elaborate landscapes and art nouveau maidens inspired by Mucha. People in town seem to enjoy your weekly designs, which is nice, even if it’s not entirely the recognition you crave. Four years of art school just to doodle on the chalkboard, you can hear your father say. He’s not wrong, but it still stings.

One day, you sketch Mr. Wick reading in the corner on the back of a discarded receipt. He is…such a lovely man. When you walk past you slip it on the table for him. You don’t let yourself watch his reaction. If you had, you would have seen his expression soften, the stony façade cracking even if just for a moment.

Is this how you see him? Not some broken down old man, the way he absolutely feels after his war with the High Table, but something…not unpleasant to look at.

You don’t know it at the time, but this is the action that sets off an avalanche. You wake a sleeping beast in him, and a dark obsession begins to kindle.

[cuubism]

work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

--

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: seungcheol x fem!reader

Requested: no

Release date: 24-04-24

Genre: mafia au, reverse of getting kidnaped by the mafia boss, fluff, e2l, crack, assistant au

Warning(s): mention of abduction, guns?, cheol is a menace, brief mentions of drugs (do tell me if i missed anything)

summary: It was not supposed to be like this, it was a meticulous plan perfectly curated by you, Jun and Seokmin. You were supposed to go get the man who was the future heir of the Kim Corps named Mingyu, you ever had a pic of his. Most importantly it was definitely not supposed to be the man who now sits in your basement claiming that he is the leader of the mafia organisation you three work for.

Word count: 5.8k

Other works

Beta reader(s): @wonuwrites-main and @anonmonty (sweet sweet angles helped me with proof reading, or else im fucking incompetent)

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

It is a beautiful day, and like they always say: beautiful things happen on beautiful days, and you were damn ready for the said beautiful thing to happen!

The plan is simple—you and Jun have gone over it at least fifty times, and Seokmin has been standing there listening to you both intently throughout the whole ordeal. 

“So, let’s go over it once again,” you say, pointing at the white board with the picture of a man, Mingyu to be exact, the heir to the Kim Corp. and your target. 

“He leaves his office to have coffee every afternoon exactly at 3pm at the nearest café named ‘Carvery’, am I right?” Jun and Seokmin nod with a concentrated look on their faces. 

“Next he goes to the park, sits there for fifteen minutes, on most days, and then takes the path that leads them straight back to the building, correct?” The two men again nod, and then Jun takes over the talking. 

“More often than not, he hates company during his afternoon runs, so the best chance we have of abducting the man is when he is between the café and the park. This will give us at least a twenty-minute head start before the police and his family start looking for him.” 

Now you and Seokmin nod at the man, and Seokmin takes the podium to present the next part. 

“Jun and I will be on the streets while y/n waits in the car, and from the background check we ran last month, we know the man is well trained in martial arts, so we will try and attack him with the anesthetic as soon as possible.” 

“And after the guy is unconscious, we will flee with his ass~,” adds Jun. 

“Sounds like a solid plan,” you laugh as you high five the two men. 

Indeed, it was a solid plan. You three had considered every possibility and chosen this day to execute your plan. It’s perfect and thorough, so what can go wrong? 

-- 

A lot apparently. 

You reached the destination ten minutes early to give Seokmin and Jun ample amount of time to prepare for the attack. 

As you parked your car near the pavement where the abduction would take place, you see a man walk past the car wearing a beige trench coat with some sort of concoction from the coffee shop. 

Now if you were a seasoned abductor, you would have known not to mess with the person as the timing was not right. But that was not the case, and seeing a person who vaguely matched the physical descriptions of the man you were actually supposed to abduct gave you enough reason to jump the gun and take this man hostage. 

Before you could process anything, Seokmin jumped on the guy, trying to tackle him while Jun tried to find a way to inject the drug into his system. After another minute of struggle, taking at least five punches in their abdomen and faces, both the men were successful in sedating the man.  

They hurriedly carried him to the car and you three sped off to the base to ask his family for ransom. 

-- 

You have been back at the base for three hours now. As you look at the unconscious man tied to the chair in front, you realize the grave mistake you made by not seeing his face the minute you were actually kidnapping him. 

“I mean if you look at his eyes, they look very similar to the real target, you know. Maybe he ate too much last night and is a bit swollen now,” Jun says in a wise tone. Now if you were stupid like Seokmin, you would have accepted this analogy of his just like the hundred others he had spewed in the past two hours, but you are not. So, you hit the guy’s head while calmly saying. 

“Will you keep quiet for a minute? You know as well as I that this is the wrong man. We don’t even know who he actually is. So, we wait for him to gain consciousness and then interrogate him.”  

You have figured that screaming and crying will get you nowhere. All it will do is trigger Seokmin’s panic attack, and you do not think he can manage another one after the one hour long one he just resurfaced from.  

“Our best bet is that we abducted a pretty important dude, or else we know the boss will have our meat served to his dogs for their nightly feasts,” you continued. 

“I can see he is wearing pretty costly brands all over. My guts say he is rich,” Seokmin pipes up. 

“Seok, your gut told you to scream for the past hour. I don’t trust it a lot now,” you complain. 

“I think it’s your fault, too. You should have stopped us from abducting the guy instead of just staring from the car, you know,” Jun says. 

Now, you will consider yourself to be a level-headed person, but one thing that gets to you more than anything else is a false accusation. On top of that, the bitch has the gal to accuse you of being careless when they were the ones showing literally no care about their work, owing to the fact you were not even supposed to abduct the untouchable Kim Mingyu in the first place. The leader of your clan, although you three had never seen him, mostly operated through Jeonghan, his right-hand man. The guy you agreed to kidnap was apparently remarkably close to your boss. But when faced with the tough choice of loyalty towards one gang and the lump sum of three million, you three had to face the situation and betray your gang. You know you should not, but the small jobs with the gang were not enough to even pay your rent!  

So, who does Jun think he is to shift the blame towards you when you have done nothing but try to make a secure living for all three of you. Therefore, you do the thing that your sane brain advises you to. 

Go off at Jun. 

“So, if I fail to babysit two grown men while on an extremely important mission that included them, the blame is shifted towards me?!” 

“You were both supposed to wait for my instructions before confronting the poor bloke. Now, if things go wrong, it will be your faults, and I will be dragged into it because I was the main brain behind the planning.”  

“Guys, I think we should focus on the guy more; I think he is stirring.” 

This statement from Seokmin caught both of your attention, causing you to cease the argument immediately to take a look at the man in front of you. 

Without hesitation, you put your gun on his head and ask, “who are you, tell us about yourself.” 

The man albeit good looking with his doe eyes and plump lips, gave you three a mean stare before speaking sassily. 

“Shouldn’t you know the identity of the person you kidnap?” 

“If we knew, I don’t think I would have asked about you,” you reply. 

The man scoffs before informing you the most gut-wrenching piece of information you have ever heard. 

“I’m Choi Seungcheol leader of Choi Clan.” 

-- 

When Seungcheol met Mingyu today, he was feeling particularly drained and sought the comfort of a familiar face, longing for a brief respite from the relentless demands of his job. Mingyu, sensing his friend's exhaustion, proposed they take a detour to unwind, considering Seungcheol's grueling schedule. Gratefully accepting the suggestion, Seungcheol had embarked on what he thought would be a much-needed moment of relaxation. 

Oh, how wrong he was. 

As he leisurely sipped his coffee, enjoying a fleeting moment of calm, the tranquility was shattered by the sudden onslaught of a group of thugs. Seungcheol had braced himself for a possible mugging, but the idea of being abducted never crossed his mind. He curses himself for sending Soonyoung away earlier, now regretting not having company in this unforeseen predicament. 

To make matters worse, Seungcheol felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. A mafia boss getting abducted! 

How humiliating.  

Now, do not get him wrong, he was, in reality, as far from incompetent as the Sahara was from water, as Seungkwan was from being calm, as Jihoon was from showing affection—you get the point. 

In fact, he had been the first in three generations to successfully reclaim the southeastern part of the city for his clan from the Yoon family, a testament to his capabilities. 

Now bound and surrounded by three hapless captors whose incompetence was glaringly evident, judging by the one who he suspects was crying prior to their conversation with him. He suspected they had targeted Mingyu, but mistakenly seized him instead. Seungcheol could not help but shake his head at their sheer incompetence. 

Now, again, he is not that scared. He knows he has a trusted pack of workers who would join heaven and earth in search of him. No, he is least bothered about himself. 

What he is actually bothered about is who planned to abduct Mingyu, because he is strictly off limits for his clan members. He knows this as much as anyone that they respect the young heir a lot, not only due to his kind nature, but also because of the relationship he has with their leader. 

So, when he informs his three kidnappers his name, he gets the weirdest of responses ever—a chorus of ‘shits’ and ‘fucks.’ Moreover, he sees all three of his kidnappers suddenly fall down at his feet and grumbling out the most nonsensical bullshit ever. The only words he vaguely captures are ‘it was supposed to be someone else’ and ‘sirs’. 

This confuses the man even more. But then he suddenly sees all three of them take their masks off, revealing two men and, dare he say, a very gorgeous woman. Now in any other situation,

Seungcheol would have laughed, but now that he is in it himself, the only reaction he can provide is a confused head nod as the woman immediately goes to untie his hands. 

-- 

“So, you are telling me that you were paid to abduct my friend who you know is off limits, but still went ahead with the idea, even though you are the members of my gang?!”  

He says as he looks at your group standing in front of him with their heads bowed down looking like kids getting scolded.  

“But sir, we barely make any money from doing the jobs assigned to us. The only way for us to pay our rent was for taking up jobs from outside, and this one paid us a huge sum. We never wanted you to be the one getting abducted instead, we swear!” you suddenly exclaim with the extreme need to explain yourself. 

Your two partners beside you do their dutiful job by nodding their heads with your rant. 

“You three fucked up really bad, didn’t you?” He says, looking a tad bit amused. 

“We are really sorry!” Seokmin chokes out, visibly scared by the whole ordeal. 

“Well, it’s time I go back, so take me back to the office.” 

Right after that statement comes out of his mouth, you three are escorting him out of the door to the car parked outside to take him back. 

-- 

“So, you are telling me these three, these newbies who literally didn’t have any good job for them to gain experience, drugged your ass and took you to god knows where, and you couldn’t even put up a good fight?!” 

Jeonghan exclaims, looking at the seated, nervous, and scared faces of the three of you from Seungcheol’s office’s glass. 

“Apparently not,” the older man sighs. 

“My friend, are you sure you are a real mafia? Because in light of the current happenings, I am starting to question your integrity a lot.” Jeonghan says as he barks out a laugh, taking immense pleasure at his friend’s humiliation. 

“Or maybe you were too caught up staring at the pretty lady to notice that you were getting kidnapped.” 

The bitch continues to make fun of the older man. 

“I just thought I was getting mugged, so I didn’t fight hard enough. Who knew I would be kidnapped instead.” Seungcheol grumbles, pouting a bit. 

“Which is even worse, because you are telling me you would have let people just mug you for no reason when you are one of the most influential people underground!” Jeonghan said while looking pretty concerned about the statement his superior just spewed, and he does indeed have a hard time accepting it. 

“Ahh! Just get over with it and let me go. Plus make sure the three of them face the appropriate consequences for not only abducting me, but also trying to abduct my friend,” Seungcheol barks out while walking out, thoroughly humiliated, and annoyed that his junior was having fun at his expense. 

So Jeonghan does the very thing at which he is extremely good. 

Create chaos. 

 Right after his superior leaves, he strides towards the group and says, “so because the boss has instructed me to do something with you three which will stop you guys from going off the hook, I’m going to assign you some jobs in the organization because I can.” 

Now, anyone even vaguely familiar with Jeonghan would recognize the expression he wore just before chaos ensued, but contrary to popular belief, Jeonghan is actually quite amiable—at least, that is what he believes, and that is what matters, right? 

He continues, “Junhui, you will be overseeing the artillery division. Our deputy head Chan will ensure you are well informed about your job. You will meet him tomorrow. As for Seokmin,” he paused, a sly smile crossing his face, which made Seokmin visibly nervous, “You, my friend, will be our esteemed boss's driver. Lastly, y/n, you will be his assistant. You shall be meeting Chan tomorrow, too; he will explain the workings of your new role.” 

Normally, in any ordinary conversation, you would not dare ask inappropriate questions, but the circumstances were far from normal, so you proceeded with the most audacious question you could muster: “Why did Chan leave his previous post?” 

Jeonghan politely responded, “He left because the job didn’t suit him, so we shifted him to the artillery department as a deputy head.” 

Unspoken was the fact that Chan had been worn down by the boss's relentless bullying, quietly requesting a transfer for at least three years before Jeonghan finally relented. Since then, the turnover of assistants had been alarmingly high. Jeonghan desperately hoped you would stick around. Moreover, if either you or Seungcheol objected to this arrangement, he had enough leverage to ensure you both comply. Enough dirt to keep both of you in line. 

-- 

Your meeting with Chan the next day went well. He explained to you the workings, gave you tips and tricks on how to make sure all the work gets done. Overall, a 10/10 experience, except the small hiccup at the end where he cryptically said something along the lines of “Best of all fucking luck with this job because you will need it.” 

Now a small best of luck is never a bad gesture, but that statement! 

That shit was a bit too hostile, even for you. But you are fine, happy even. Anything that saves you from getting your life cut short by a mafia leader is always welcomed. 

-- 

“What are you doing here?”  

“Where is Jeonghan?” 

The first two sentences to ever leave The Choi Seungcheol’s mouth the minute he sees your face when he comes into his office that afternoon. Indeed, so delightful! 

"Sir, I've been assigned as your work assistant for the time being," you reply, your eyes downcast. It is a surreal turn of events considering just yesterday this man was tied up in your basement. After that ordeal, everything seemed to take on a different hue, almost as if you were hearing the bells of heaven. So, that reaction seems pretty appropriate to you given the circumstances. 

Now you see our oh so beloved Mr. Choi was not just an underground mob because what is the fun in that, right! He mostly did international business under the guise of his company named The ChoiTech, solely based on providing technological change using sustainable means. Pretty cleaver tactic, although overused, but still gets the job done, so who are you to judge. 

The man looking extremely shocked at your statement immediately rushed inside his office, you presume, to call Jeonghan. And sure enough, within five minutes of him disappearing from your sight, you could hear him loudly complaining to his secretary on the phone. “But Jeonghan I can’t be collaborating with her, after what she did to me yesterday!” 

The man whined and then suddenly you could hear hushed whispers, so being the curious cat you were, slowly crept near the door to hear the conversation better. 

“But man, it’s humiliating. She kidnapped me for fucks sake”, the oh so powerful man, who people assumed will one day rule the underworld, whined like a kid who has been denied to go on a playdate with their best friend. 

By this time, you were almost pressed onto the door when suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump away from it and look about for the person who stopped you from consuming you daily dose of gossip. 

The culprit, Joshua, stood right in front of your desk with an amused look on his face. 

Now Joshua is someone you were extremely familiar with, being the man who took care of assigning roles to the lower members of the group, you have had a lot of angry conversations with him. 

“I would ask you if Seungcheol is busy, but the way you were trying so hard to eavesdrop, makes me think otherwise,” he says, making you roll your eyes. 

“Just give me a minute to tell him you are here, then you can go in.” 

The man nodded still looking thoroughly amused at how sad you looked due to missing out on whatever conversation you were listening to. 

After a minute, the man was inside, now looking even happier that he has seen his next victim to torment. 

-- 

“So Jeonghan was indeed right,” he said, looking like he was having a tough time controlling his laugh. 

“Not you, too,” the pouty man whined from behind the desk. “But really, can you tell him to not put that woman as my assistant? I get war flashbacks every time I see her face,” he continued whining. 

“I mean, I could do that, but where is the fun there, right!” Joshua, thoroughly enjoying his boss’s misery, replied. “But in all seriousness, you could just treat her like Chan. The boy is still traumatized by the amount of work you made him do,” he thoughtfully added. 

The older replies, “I liked Chan, he was nice, would do anything you ask him to!” 

“And so will she. Her life is at stake here, give her some benefit of the doubt.” 

This statement made the older think like never before. Plans of tormenting you to quit your job rushing past his brain at high speed. Suddenly everything made sense. 

“I can take my revenge! That is exactly why Jeonghan made her my assistant. Oh, my friend is such a genius!” Seungcheol said, looking a bit too enthusiastic. 

“Ok, I am sure it was done to decrease his workload, but whatever you say, man,” the younger said skeptically after seeing the diabolical look on the elder’s face. 

-- 

It has already been three weeks and suddenly you understand what Chan meant all those days back when he wished you good luck. To put it quite plainly, your boss is crazy. 

The man was a combination of workaholic and perfectionist, which resulted in him getting swamped by work and by default the same fate befalls you every day, too. For the past three weeks, you have had a challenging time at the office to even take a break to eat food. 

The men you called your enemies once, aka Jeonghan and Joshua, are the ones now saving you from dying out of malnutrition. You are eternally thankful to them. But more than anything now, you regret trying to kidnap Kim Mingyu—the name makes you want to cry in a corner and throw rocks at people, if you had any time to do so. 

“Sir, you scheduled two appointments at the same time: the new project for the Orin Community Park and another one with Mr. Xu for the narcotic deal.” 

You informed the man who had his face shoved in some papers, reading something diligently.  

“Why did you not stop me from doing so then, you were right beside me when I was going through the plan.” 

Now, it is your job to curate the perfect schedule for the man to follow, but Seungcheol being the guy born only to cause you inconvenience made his schedule for the week himself this time. 

Why you might ask?

Purely because the man is a chronic insomniac and whenever he has trouble sleeping, instead of taking measures to have a peaceful sleep, he tries his hands in different works because he can, and this time his victim was the poor, poor schedule of his. 

“Because you had already sent them both emails, sir,” you say, thoroughly exasperated. 

“Ok maybe I did, so now I obviously can’t cancel on both so you figure out something so that I can attend both the meetings, because I ain’t missing any.” 

The man just turns his chair around and keeps reading whatever he was reading in the first place.

With an extremely calm voice, you say, “sir I need you to stop trying to do something to pass time when you can’t sleep. I need you to actually go to a doctor.”  “Can’t,” comes his response, making you sigh more. 

Sometimes it feels like you are working as a babysitter to a grown man instead of an assistant to a CEO. 

Seeing the conversation would be going nowhere if you keep talking to him, you go out and do the second-best thing in your books. 

Call Chan. 

“Lemme guess, the boss is giving you a hard time!” The first sentence he says right after picking up the phone. 

Sighing, you tell him all of Seungcheol’s various administrative behaviors throughout this week. When you got to the part where he had so bravely and meticulously made the perfect schedule, Chan started laughing. The gall of that boy! 

“Wait, he still does that!” He exclaimed between his laughs, making you feel even more annoyed. 

After calming down he says, “just make Jeonghan or Jihoon go for the community meeting and let him manage the narc. I know you are thankful, so do not mention it, but maybe buy me a meal when you are free, as a repayment.” 

Chuckling at the younger boy, you agreed to get him whatever he asks for purely because he is a literal angel, and he deserves the world. Ok, maybe it is a bit too dramatic, but the boy was indeed your angel in disguise. 

Planning on following through with the advice Chan gave you, you called both Jeonghan and Jihoon simultaneously. As Jeonghan was busy, Jihoon accepted the work of going to the community welfare meeting instead of Seungcheol. 

After that, the whole day was smooth sailing. But the main root of all your problems was happy, maybe not healthy, but the look of pure happiness and the twinkling eyes when he passed by your desk was hard to miss.  

This man was slowly but surely making sure to strip you of your patience bit by bit. 

--  

The last straw to eradicating your already depleting patience came when Seungcheol in all his glory, during one of his nightly ‘Imma take away other’s jobs because sleep refuses to befriend me’ escapades, deleted all your assistant notes for the server by mistake. 

You still are baffled as to how he did that. Truth be told so is he. He was scrolling away on his phone when he saw this reel about ‘how to increase your Wi-Fi speed.’ Extremely intrigued by it, he had actually tried to increase the internet speed in his house, and he swears on every god on planet earth it worked. So, he tried doing so with the one in his office, which weirdly enough resulted in removal of all the information that you had stored in your laptop. 

Now if this would have happened to his computer, too, you would not have gotten as angry as you were, but the motherfucker’s computer was all well and good and if you actually pay attention, it seems that his internet speed has increased, too! 

How this man become a CEO is beyond you. What is not so beyond is your pure hatred for him and his technologically challenged ass. 

So that night when Seungcheol, stayed back as usual to do work, you took your chances, entered his office, and slammed a ball of yarn and two knitting needles on his table while scaring the life out of the, not so, poor man. 

“Start knitting!” you calmly said. 

“But I don’t know how to though!” he replies, thoroughly confused. 

“Then learn, Seungcheol! I don’t care what you want to do, I need you to learn and pick up a hobby, start gaming, try knitting anything! Just make sure you are not trying to turn the office upside down.” 

Anyone who knows Seungcheol also knows never to question his nightly routines, but more than that, they also know the pride of the man is too high to ever accept his mistake. So, when you commit the grave crime of pointing out his mishap with the Wi-Fi router that morning, you hit the nail on the head and pissed him to the fucking moon. 

“So, you think I’m bad at what I do?!” 

“No, I think you are technically inept. And you should leave it to people who are good at it.” 

This pisses off Seungcheol more than anything, but you don’t let him intervene as you keep speaking. 

“On top of that you are constantly making changes in your schedule without informing me. You’re your assistant. Maybe have you ever considered the fact that your schedule was made so that your day is smooth sailing, and no two activities overlap!” 

“Just because you refuse to go to a doctor and try and find a way to manage your stress does not mean you make the workplace hell for us.” 

By the end of your rant, you were fuming and Seungcheol was stunned. 

Clearing his throat, he says awkwardly, “I’m sorry you feel so, I will try and fix my schedule.” 

Now, although this statement made you feel better, it also confused you, as you were fully prepared to have a full-blown fight with the man. Him backing down was never an option. But now that it has happened, you muttered a small, “I shall be going then”, to which your boss meekly nodded. 

After you were outside, you ended up feeling better due to unloading all your anger on the man. It was refreshing. Now you just needed to see what changes tomorrow will bring for Seungcheol. 

-- 

It had been two months since you had the argument with Seungcheol, more like your single woman shouting spree. But things have been better. He has tried to keep his need for new experiences down and this has made your life exponentially easier.  

Did you now have time to eat. Absolutely not! 

But the office was not a nightmare anymore.  

If someone would have told you five months ago that this is what your future held for you, you would have straight up laughed at their face and told them to get themselves checked. But life has weird ways of throwing you in situations you don’t expect yourself to be in, and you have no other ways of getting out but learn to go with the flow. 

You sometimes talk to Jun and Seokmin, and you have realized you got the hardest of all the jobs.

You asked Jeonghan about it once and his answer was, “because I can and its fun!” 

So here you are sitting on the couch with Seokmin while enjoying your sandwich when you see Seungcheol come outside carrying a bag, Jeonghan trailing behind him sporting this devilish look on his face. 

The big man walks towards you and hands you the bag. Opening it you notice a green scarf sitting at the bottom. 

“Seungcheol’s first knitting creation, and he says thank you for forcing him to learn knitting. It helps him sleep now.” Jeonghan says while pointing at the bag even before the older man could open his mouth. 

Seokmin tries to make himself as invisible as possible while looking extremely interested in the whole situation unfolding in front of him. 

Seungcheol waves his hands at Jeonghan trying to hush him down and whines, “let me speak!” 

“I made this cause you told me it would help me sleep! I didn’t think it could actually help me, but it looks like it did, so I’m extremely thankful for your suggestion.”

“Good job!” Jeonghan says, patting Seungcheol’s head like he was a child, making you laugh a bit. 

“Thank you for listening to me, sir!” 

“Oh, no, call him by his name, or else he will become weird with you again!” Jeonghan says, making you laugh again. Seungcheol pouts at both of you and storms back to his office, with Jeonghan at his tail making fun of him yet again. 

After that, you kept the bag in your desk and went to bid your friend goodbye. 

“He looked like he was confessing to his crush, you know”, Seokmin muses. 

“Maybe he has a crush on you!” He exclaimed after pausing for a moment. 

“I don’t, he is a weird person,” you had replied thoughtfully. 

Realizing he has been chatting with you for a long time, Seokmin quickly rushes outside while loudly screaming a ‘goodbye’ for the whole building to hear. 

When you came back to your desk, Jeonghan was waiting for you there. The man just looked at you with a smirk and said, “see you later y/n, and make sure to wear the scarf!” 

Jeonghan is a weird person. You more often than not don’t listen to what he tells you to do. He forces you to do them anyways. 

“Seriously, lady, do wear the scarf. Plus, it’s cold outside—you won’t get a heatstroke if you do so.” 

With that he was outside of the office, too. Slowly work caught up with you and you forgot about the scarf altogether. 

-- 

That evening, as you were finishing up at work and preparing to leave, you grabbed the scarf that had been gifted to you and wrapped it around your neck before stepping out of the office. 

Unbeknownst to you, the man who had given you the scarf felt a rush of joy upon seeing you wear it. Concealing his flushed cheeks, he quietly followed you out and spontaneously invited you to join him for dinner, explaining that he had given Seokmin the night off and now was in extreme need of a dinner companion, as Seokmin would fill in that position on most nights. It was unusual for him to make such a request, but you were both hungry and couldn't resist the offer of a free meal, even if it was from someone as harmless as him. 

"So, what do you think?" Seungcheol asked as the two of you sat at the ramen shop waiting for your orders. 

"About what?" You replied, genuinely puzzled by his question. 

"Didn't you read the letter?" He asked, his face turning even redder as he mentioned it. 

"What letter?" You responded, glancing around until Seungcheol nodded towards the bag in which he gave you the scarf, looking inside you noticed an envelope that matched the interior perfectly sitting at the bottom. 

"Oh! I can read it now," you exclaimed. 

"Don't worry about it right now," he interjected as the waiter arrived with your bowls of ramen. 

Despite his reluctance to discuss the letter further, your curiosity only grew stronger after he dropped you off at your doorstep. Once inside your home, you wasted no time in retrieving the letter from your bag. Its contents filled you with excitement like never before. 

The following day at the office, you placed another letter on Seungcheol's desk before getting on with your usual tasks, eager to see his reaction. 

-- 

"So, let me get this straight—you've been dating our boss for the past month?" Exclaimed Jun, eyes wide with disbelief. 

"Why didn't you tell us sooner? How did this even happen?!" Chimed in Seokmin, equally stunned by the news. 

As soon as you revealed your relationship with Seungcheol, you found yourself bombarded with a flurry of questions from your friends. It was amusing to witness their sheer astonishment, and yet, deep down, it felt incredibly rewarding to share this surprising news with them.

What started as a casual hangout quickly transformed into a lively interrogation session, with your friends firing off all sorts of curious inquiries. Most pressing among them was the question: 

“How and when did all of this happen?!” 

You couldn't blame them for their curiosity. It seemed like just yesterday that you had kidnapped Seungcheol off the street instead of his friend Mingyu, which resulted in Jeonghan gaining the perfect opportunity to bully you both half to death. And let's not forget the hell and back experience you were subjected to from Seungcheol himself, the man who had once resorted to extreme tactics to get you to quit as he was reminded of the oh so humiliating experience he went through every time he saw your face. But somehow, it all worked out in the end, and you couldn't be happier about how it turned out. 

Near the end of your gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to pull out your phone and reveal the most treasured image in your gallery: a photograph capturing two pieces of paper resting on a desk. One paper bore a lengthy paragraph, while the other simply displayed a single, bold sentence: 

"Take me out on a proper date first!" 

The photo encapsulated perfectly how you both worked so well with each other. It was a sweet reminder of how unexpectedly love can bloom in the most unconventional of circumstances. 

As your friends marveled at the photo, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you and Seungcheol had come in such a short time. Despite the initial hurdles and challenges you faced with the man, you were grateful for the bond you now shared—a relationship built on laughter, friendship, and, of course, a bit of unexpected romance. 

The end hope you like it !!

[kaaaaaaarf]

Hey you, I'm here for Wolfstar raising harry recommendations 🤗

Hello!! I'm also going to tag @imsiriuslyreading because I know Lana was also looking for some recs!

This is by no means a comprehensive list, but these are some of my very favs:

Wolfstar Raising Harry

Ten Reasons (To Go To Michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 (I also love these two unrelated wolfstar raising harry microfics by the same author) — This is a Sirius raising Harry and meeting recently divorced Remus (who happens to be a writer) on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. A must read! that's the art of getting by by sarewolf — Remus becomes Harry's guardian and they move to a muggle village in the middle of nowhere. Eventually, Sirius is freed and comes to stay with them, but can they get back what they once had? Honestly, majorly obsessed with this one, but watch out for the angst! Stealing Harry by copperbadge — In an alternate universe where Sirius Black never went to Azkaban, Harry divides his life between the Dursleys' house and Mr. Black's bookshop -- until Sirius realises what the Dursleys are doing to him, and takes him away from their care. This series is fucking amazing and actually spans several of the books!! Mr Mouse by TracingPatterns (which continues in their wolfstar raising harry series) — A lovely little piece in which a young Harry learns about grief.

Like Real People Do by third_crow (part of the coffee shop au series) — Sirius raising Harry, when he starts falling for local barista Remus Lupin. This is also a beautiful story about what it's like to live with epilepsy and I am extremely obsessed with this series. The Things I Did by Lolo_row — canon compliant, Remus gets custody of Harry and works to get Sirius out of Azkaban. A bit of angst, but tasty! the dogfather au by hollimichele — Harry was raised by his adoptive muggle family, when one day a big black dog shows up. His parents just thinks he's a stray, and Padfoot becomes the family pet (to keep an eye on Harry, and protect him from Voldemort). Eventually this morphs into Remus also coming into the picture.

Wolfstar Raising Teddy

the mayors of simpleton by @fruityindividual — Divorced wolfstar are co-parenting a very mischievious Teddy who is not about to let his dads stay divorced!! Honestly this fic is so funny, so heartfelt, so fucking lovely. It also features the most beautiful portrayal of a blind character that I ever seen. A must read! Of Memories and Milk Thievery by @mayescapade — Divorced wolfstar raising Teddy again! Wolfstar have been co-parents for years and they wont stop terrorizing/pranking one another. An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account — Single dad Remus. Remus Lupin knows two things--working and caring for his son, Teddy. When his babysitter sets up crowdfunding so Teddy can go swim with the sea turtles at the local animal rescue, Remus doesn't realise how completely their life is going to change. Especially when he meets Sirius Black, the weekend merman in the aquatic show, and someone who might convince him of love at first sight. Honestly a lovely piece, and it also features the Potter clan.

Other (raising both teddy and harry, wolfstar girldads)

Let's Play Pretend by MsAlexWP — My current obsession!! I can't tell you how many times I've read this. Single parent Remus and single parent Sirius meet at a play date and end up pretend dating so that the old women in Sirius' building (who basically stalk him) will stop trying to set him up. Neither of them can date at the moment, so what could possibly go wrong?? Ultimate comfort fic. Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by TracingPatterns — This is single parent Sirius and single parent Remus, both having moved to a small village and meeting at Harry & Teddy's school. A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP — Again, they are both single parents. Harry Potter is recovering from surgery and facing the worst summer ever until a guy with the same crutches as Harry moves in across the street with his son. So lovely!! Hide-and-Seek by onehundredflamingos — Wolfstar girldads raising their adoptive daughter Cassie, who is also a werewolf. This is the story of her first transformation. It's soooo sweet! @industrations has done a bunch of wolfstar and Cassie art, which you should absolutely go and cry over!

For supplementary material, feel free to check out my Wolfstar Raising Harry, Wolfstar Raising Teddy and Wolfstar Girldads tags!

[elliesbelle]

skinny dipping

ellie williams one-shot

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: it's a wednesday and you go to a coffee shop. you hear the barista call a name: ellie. your ex-girlfriend. after some nonsensical chatter, she asks to catch up. have you both changed or are you still those scared little kids?

content warnings: modern au, ex-girlfriend!ellie, also ex-best friend!ellie, also artist!ellie, also a bit of mean!ellie, ellie and reader are in their mid-20s, cursing, verbal arguments, kind of angst, mention of character death, ellie and reader break-up, non-sexual nudity, minors don't interact

word count: 6.1k

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

based on the sabrina carpenter song “skinny dipping”

It’s 8:47 on a Wednesday morning. You’d gotten an early start to your morning and figured you could treat yourself to a cup of coffee. Since you work just around the corner from the coffee place and had a few minutes to spare, you were at your leisure. 

You stand to the side from where the pick-up counter was, patiently waiting for your name and order to be called out. Scrolling through your phone absent-mindedly, your ears suddenly perk up when one of the baristas calls out, “Oat milk latte for, uhhh… Ellie?” 

There’s no chance that it’s actually her. 

But it is. 

You look up from your phone to see a flash of auburn hair. The barista places the oat milk latte on the counter to be picked up by a woman in a simple black t-shirt tucked into dark grey jeans and wearing a pair of old, black Converse. 

The woman mutters a thanks to the barista before turning around to suddenly meet your stunned gaze. Her green eyes mirror the expression on yours. 

“Hi.” Your ex-girlfriend suddenly blurts out. 

“Hi, E-Ellie.” You blurt out right back. 

The sounds of chatter from other patrons and chairs scraping and the cha-ching of the register are all drowned out suddenly as you’re both being pulled into a bubble. 

“Then go, Ellie! Just fucking go!” You screamed. 

“The fuck does it look like I’m doing, huh?” Ellie yelled back, throwing up her hands in frustration before going back to stuffing her belongings from her desk into her backpack. 

“Running away, like you always do!” You responded angrily. “You’re a fucking coward!” 

“Uh, huh, sure.” She scoffed, keeping her back turned to you as she zips up her backpack. 

“Just go back to your fancy fucking college with all your fancy new friends and go ahead and make your pretentious art and forget about all of this!” You said, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face. 

“Yeah, maybe I will!” Ellie retorted, whipping around to look at you. 

“Fine.” You sneered. 

“Fine!” She replied. 

You glared at each other, her angry green eyes meeting yours. 

After a moment of loaded silence, you sniffled, wiped your nose on your sleeve, and shook your head. 

“Well, you can go ahead and forget about me too, then.” You professed, making your way to storm past her and out of the garage. 

Before you reached the doorknob, you felt Ellie’s hand suddenly grab your wrist. 

“Wait,” She said, voice a little softer. 

You kept your eyes focused on the door, knowing that if they met hers once again, you’d beg for forgiveness that you didn’t need to receive from her. 

“Don’t.” You said firmly. You attempted to shake her off, but her grip stayed secure. 

“Let’s just—let’s talk about this.” She said with an attempt at rationality in her voice. 

“I’ve been here the whole time to talk. There’s no point in it anymore. Now let go of me.” 

“Baby—” 

“I’m not your fucking baby, Ellie!” You suddenly yelled, relenting to turn around and say this directly to her face. Her eyes were welling up with tears. 

“Please, I love you.” Ellie pleaded. 

You scoffed. 

“No, you fucking don’t.” You proclaimed. 

You shook off Ellie’s hand from your wrist once you felt her grip loosen. You yanked the door open and ran into the night. 

The flooding of memories is put to a stop when you hear the barista call out your name and order. You jump and so does Ellie. 

Awkwardly, you break the eye contact to walk to the pick-up counter right next to her, reaching out to grab your drink. 

You pull the coffee cup to your chest, as if the heat could radiate comfort through your body. Something within you summons a sliver of courage, so you decide to break the silence and dared look her right in those ocean-green eyes again. 

“How are you?” You mutter, so quiet that you weren’t sure if she heard you. But you were both so close to each other that you swore you could hear her heartbeat. 

“I’m…I’m good.” She mutters right back. 

Ellie surprises you with a tiny smile. You return it with a bashful one of your own. 

“Good.” You say. “I—I didn’t know you were back in town.” 

“Yeah, actually I—” Ellie hesitates for a second. “I moved back last month.” 

“Oh.” You say, shocked. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know that.” 

“Yeah, it was–it was a little sudden. But I’m here.” 

“Right.” You reply, taking a nervous sip of your coffee. 

“Umm, so…how’s your family?” She asks. 

“Oh, they’re…they’re the same.” 

“That’s good. How’s your sister Kiko?” 

You smile, touched that Ellie remembered your little sister. You’re reminded of how close she was with her, how much your little sister looked up to Ellie. 

“Oh, Kiko’s…Kiko. As always.” You say. Ellie smiles. 

“How old is she now?” 

“Turning 19 this month. She just graduated.” 

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing. I feel like she was just 5 years old, like, yesterday.” 

“I know, it’s so crazy. She’s actually taller than me now.” 

“My little dude, taller than you? That can’t be true.” 

“Surreal, right?” 

“That looks awesome, little dude.” Ellie said. 

“Really?” Your little sister Kiko beamed. 

“Yeah! You’ve got talent, kid.” 

You walked into your bedroom, holding a glass of lemonade in one hand. 

“What are you doing in here, Kiko?” You questioned, seeing your sister sitting next to Ellie on your bed with her sketchbook open on Ellie’s lap. 

“I was showing Ellie some of my drawings!” Your sister piped. 

“Oh, yeah?” You said, coming over to sit on Kiko’s other side. You handed Ellie the glass, to which she uttered a quiet thanks. 

“Check it out,” Kiko said, pulling her sketchbook closer to you. “This one is a picture of an apatosaurus eating a leaf.” 

She pointed at a charcoal drawing of a long-necked dinosaur eating from a tree. She flipped the page and pointed at a sketch of a girl who looked roughly the same age as her. 

“This is my friend Peni. I drew it while we were eating lunch the other day, but she said I made her eyes too big.” 

“And I told her to punch Peni for that when she sees her at school on Monday.” Ellie said. 

“Ellie!” You exclaimed, reaching behind Kiko to smack Ellie’s arm. Ellie cackled. 

“She deserves it! Her drawing’s perfect!” Ellie said. 

“Okay, but don’t tell my little sister to resort to violence!” You complained. 

“I think more people should be resorting to violence.” Ellie shrugged. 

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever,” Ellie laughed again. “Show us more, little dude.” 

Your sister enthusiastically flipped through more pages of her sketchbook, describing each of her drawings. You and Ellie listened happily and attentively, Ellie occasionally taking sips of her lemonade. 

“Oh, and this is you guys!” Kiko suddenly exclaimed. She pointed at a half-finished pencil drawing of you and Ellie. 

Your eyes widened and Ellie choked on her lemonade. 

You and Ellie were laying down together on your living room couch, fast asleep. One of Ellie’s arms served as a pillow for your head while the other embraced your hip to pull you closer. Your head was nuzzled in Ellie’s neck, arms wrapped around Ellie’s waist. You were both covered with a throw blanket, and you could catch a glimpse of your feet intertwined with Ellie’s at the end of the couch. Though just a sketch, you could tell that you were both in deep, unencumbered sleep. 

You weren’t sure when it was that Kiko drew this because you and Ellie had fallen asleep with each other countless times. It wasn’t rare for you two to cuddle either; you’d been best friends for a while now and you were very physically comfortable with each other. But something about the way Kiko captured this intimacy on paper felt further than that. It awakened something dormant in you, something you didn’t realize was there in the first place. 

Neither you nor Ellie seemed to know what to say. You both stared at the sketchbook dumbfounded, Ellie not realizing that she had some lemonade dribbling down her chin. Luckily, Kiko didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension in the air. 

“Oh! Hang on, I have to grab my other sketchbook! I’ve got a couple more dinosaur drawings I wanna show you, Ellie!” 

Your sister jumped up and bounded out of your bedroom, leaving her sketchbook in between you and Ellie. 

You continued to stare at your sister’s sketch. Even if you were five years older than her, Kiko was far more artistically talented than you at just the age of 12. 

Your fingers reached out to lightly brush across Ellie’s and your etched faces, but they were suddenly met with Ellie’s own fingers, who had the same idea. You both quickly retracted your hands after accidentally zapping each other as your skin touched hers. 

“Shit, sorry.” Ellie said, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, it’s okay.” You whispered. You tore your eyes away from the drawing to stare at your legs dangling from the bed. 

“That Kiko is a… pretty funny kid, huh?” Ellie said, laughing nervously. 

“Right,” You said. “Well, Kiko is Kiko.” 

“She really is.” 

An awkward silence continued to loom over you two, neither knowing how to break it. This was unchartered territory for you. You usually felt so at ease with your best friend, but something suddenly shifted. And you weren’t sure what it was. 

You eventually looked up at Ellie, who was twiddling her fingers. You noticed her chin still dripping slightly with lemonade. You giggled as Ellie met your eyes. 

“What?” She asked. 

“What is the matter with you?” You laughed, getting up and walking towards your desk. 

“What!” Ellie repeated. 

“You’ve got lemonade on your chin, dummy.” You said, grabbing a kleenex from a tissue box. 

“Oh,” Ellie brought her hand up and felt the wetness. “Shit.” 

She chuckled, grabbing the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face. 

“Hey, no!” You scolded, running over to her to slap her shirt out of her hand. 

“What!” Ellie said, indignant. 

“Were you raised in a barn?” You scoffed, handing Ellie the tissue. 

“Yup,” Ellie replied, accepting it. “Oink, oink.” 

You rolled your eyes and laughed as Ellie cleaned off her face. 

“You are so annoying!” You said, taking your pointer finger to push up the tip of Ellie’s nose, giving it the appearance of a pig’s snout. 

Ellie swatted your finger away playfully, snickering. 

“And yet you still laughed anyway!” 

“Whatever!” 

“Hey,” Ellie said, holding her hands up. “Not my fault I’m a comical genius.” 

“A comical dumbass, maybe.” You rolled your eyes once more. 

“Oh, you love me.” Ellie said, grinning widely. 

You and Ellie both chuckle. You’re surprised to find that you missed the sound of her laughter. 

After a few moments, you both fall silent. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks at the same time that Ellie’s freckles turn pink. Suddenly you don’t feel the need for coffee anymore. Your heart beats like that of a hummingbird and you feel as if you were sweating excessively underneath your short-sleeved button-down. Your lungs feel like they were fully submerged in water. You had to tear your gaze away from those ocean-green eyes. 

It’s Ellie’s courage this time that breaks the silence. 

“Well, uhh. Let her know I say hi, will you?” 

“Y-yeah. Of course.” You say. “And uhh, say hi to your Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria too.” 

Ellie smiles, but you notice a hint of sadness behind it. 

“Sure.” She says. 

You give her a slight nod. 

Fidgeting with your coffee cup, you feel your chest tighten from the rising awkwardness. 

“Well, uhh, I gotta get to work.” You say. “Umm, it was nice seeing you.” 

You give Ellie a final smile and a wave, whipping around and heading out the door before Ellie could respond. 

The sound of a bell tinkles as you walk through the door of the coffee shop. You take several deep breaths as a million emotions wash over you. You take a sip of your coffee before turning towards the direction of your workplace. But before you could get far, you hear another tinkle of the coffee shop bell. 

“Wait!” You hear Ellie’s voice call out. 

Before you could turn around, you feel fingers wrap around your wrist. You both immediately withdraw your hands as you feel Ellie’s skin accidentally zap yours. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Ellie says apologetically. 

“It’s okay.” You reply, pulling your zapped hand to your swiftly beating chest. 

“Umm,” She begins. “This was really nice. Catching up, I mean.” 

“Y-yeah.” 

“We should…do this on purpose sometime.” She says, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. An old Ellie habit you recognize. 

“Oh, umm.” You bounce lightly back and forth on your feet. “Yeah. Sure.” 

“Cool beans.” She says, smiling. “Are you free tonight, by any chance?” 

“Oh, I have to stay late at work tonight.” 

“Oh, okay.” She says, her smile faltering. She seems to think you were making up an excuse to flake. 

“But I’m free Friday night!” You say quickly. “I get off at 5:30. But if you aren’t free or if that doesn’t work for you—“ 

Ellie smiles. 

“Friday sounds great. Do you wanna do 6:30 at Raja’s?” 

You grimace slightly. 

“Won’t that be too nostalgic?” 

Ellie chuckles. 

“Maybe, but let’s do it anyway.” She says. Your cheeks feel warm from her sudden boldness. 

“We won’t sit at the same old table or anything,” She says, holding her hands up. “Just dinner. Nothing more.” 

You consider this for a second. 

“Yeah,” You say slowly. “Yeah, okay.” 

Ellie beams, knowing she won you over. 

“Friday at 6:30 then.” 

“Oh, that’s so fucking cool.” You say. 

“Yeah, you think so?” Ellie responds. 

It was Friday at 6:54 in the evening. Ellie was right on time, but you were kept at work longer than expected and were several minutes late. You’d rushed home to drop your work things off and make yourself presentable as quickly as possible for having dinner with your ex-girlfriend, thanking past you for already laying out the outfit you planned on wearing for the meeting. 

The diner was a 10-minute walk from your apartment, but you made it a 6-minute run instead. It had rained the previous day, so you’d nearly slipped several times. But you caught yourself each time, determined to make it in one piece. 

When you arrived, Ellie was already sitting at a booth, drinking water. You arrived completely winded, breathlessly muttering a hundred apologies. Ellie just smiled, telling you to take a deep breath and that it was completely okay. She seemed grateful that you showed up either way. 

After taking generous sips from the glass of water that was already waiting for you, you’d greeted Ellie properly with a smile. She returned it, and now you were both discussing all the tattoos she’s gotten in the past few years. You’d noticed one on her left arm when she pushed the second glass of water towards you. 

“How about the one on your right arm?” You ask. You’d gotten a slight glimpse of it the other day at the coffee shop. 

“Oh, umm.” She says, placing her arm on the table so you could get a better look. She seems almost reluctant to do so. 

You lean in closer, moving your head around to better inspect the ferns that decorated her forearm from different angles. There was something else engraved on top of the ferns that you couldn’t quite make out, but it somehow seemed familiar. Your right hand hovers over the tattoo, an impulse to touch it nearly coming over you. But you keep your fingers to yourself, afraid to cross that line just yet. 

“It’s beautiful, Ellie. Did you design this one yourself?” You ask. 

“No, uhh,” She begins awkwardly. “My ex-girlfriend Cat did.” 

“Oh” was all you said in reply, unwittingly withdrawing your hand. 

“Yeah, uhh. I got it freshman year of college. After…after my dad died.” 

“Oh.” You repeat once more. 

“Y-yeah. It wasn’t the easiest thing to deal with, and Cat thought it would help with like, the grieving process and all.” 

“Right, of course.” You say, feeling remorseful for having brought attention to the topic. 

Ellie begins to unintentionally run her fingers over the tattoo out of nervousness, drawing your eyes to it once more. You suddenly recognize what the final part of the design was. 

“That’s the…the moth. From your old guitar.” 

Ellie looks down at it sadly. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

You’re both drawn into yet another awkward silence. Fiddling with your fingers in your lap, you feel as if an anchor was dropped onto your chest. You’d known that the topic of Joel’s death might come up, but you were nervous nonetheless. 

You look up to see Ellie’s face to find that she was already staring at you. She didn’t look like she was upset with you in any way at all; in fact, it was guilt that flashed across her features. You realize why, and there was an unspoken acknowledgement that you were both thinking about the same thing. 

Ellie withdraws her arm back to her side. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

“I know.” You whisper back. 

You were sitting on the couch in Ellie’s makeshift art studio that she’d set up in her garage. You hugged your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you drowned in your tears. It had been almost a week since Joel’s funeral and nobody had heard from Ellie. Everyone asked after her during the wake, but neither you nor her Uncle Tommy or Aunt Maria could answer. She hadn’t made it to the funeral, and you were worried. 

It was four months into your freshman year of college. You decided to attend a university closer to home, only a half-hour drive from Jackson. But Ellie chose an art school in Boston after receiving a scholarship, all the way across the country. 

Deciding on a long-distance relationship seemed like a no-brainer when you and Ellie had discussed it after you both graduated high school. You loved each other, both as girlfriends and long-time best friends. It felt as if your love would be able to survive anything. 

The longer that Ellie was away, however, the more difficult it got. Your college was much smaller, compared to hers. You preferred it that way; that was a factor in your choosing to attend. Some of your peers that you grew up with in Jackson were even in a few of your classes, and this eased the anxiety of being away from home. 

But Ellie, a couple thousand miles away, was in a brand new town with brand new faces. You were nervous for her, fearing that she’d be a fish out of water. You knew how awkward she could be sometimes and you worried that she’d get lonely. But after a few weeks of college, she’d made several friends and grew to love Boston. This made you happy, but part of you was sad that you couldn’t experience this milestone in your lives together. 

You’d been inseparable since childhood, growing up together and going to the same schools and having the same friends. Along the way, you’d realized you were in love with each other. It was bliss, to fall in love with the one person you trusted most with your life and to have them love you back. You were both so in sync, even and especially after you started dating. She knew you like the back of her hand, and you knew her the same. 

But as you sat there in Ellie’s garage with only the comfort of your own arms, you started to wonder. You were trying to convince yourself that Ellie was pulling away from you because of Joel’s passing. But all the unanswered phone calls, missed flights to visit home, the growing disinterest in your side of the conversation affirmed that Ellie was becoming someone you no longer knew. You were still where you always were, but Ellie had traveled oceans away from you.  

You had your head buried in your knees when you heard the sound of the door unlocking. As you dropped your legs to the ground, you watched as Ellie entered the garage. She flicked the light on and jumped when she saw your miserable figure sitting on her couch. 

“Oh, fuck!” She yelled. “You scared me, babe.” 

She placed a hand on her chest as if to slow down her rapid heartbeat. 

“Sorry.” You whisper meekly. 

“What are you doing sitting here all alone in the dark?” She asked, walking over to her desk and placing her backpack on top of it. 

You stared at her in disbelief. 

“Where the fuck have you been, Ellie?” You said, ignoring her question. 

“What do you mean? I’ve been around.” She replied, her back towards you as she collected some belongings. 

“You missed Joel’s funeral.” You said bluntly. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” She said, a little too nonchalantly. 

You watched as she continued to move around the room, rearranging a few things and rifling through drawers. She felt your gaze on her but avoided eye contact with you. 

“He was your father, Ellie.” You said after a few minutes of silence. 

“Adoptive father,” She corrected. “He wasn’t my real dad.” 

“He fucking raised you.” 

“Yeah, well,” She said, placing a few paintbrushes in her backpack. “Look how that turned out.” 

You were exhausted. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Ellie?!” 

She finally turned around to face you. 

“What?” She asked, taken aback by your raised tone. 

“Where the fuck have you been? Why weren’t you at Joel’s funeral? Everyone’s been worried sick about you, wondering where the fuck you went off to. Your Aunt Maria nearly called the cops, but your Uncle Tommy and I had to convince her that you wouldn’t be so stupid to go and get yourself hurt!” 

You’d risen from your seat on the couch now, glaring at her. 

“And now this about Joel? He was your fucking father. I don’t give a fuck what you say! He loved you so much, and it would break his heart to hear you talk about him like this.” 

Tears were streaming down your face as Ellie watched you silently continuing your outrage. 

“I know you need to deal with your grief in your own way. I know you’re sad and need time, but…” You sniffled. “Please don’t shut us out. Don’t push away the people who love you. Joel wouldn’t have wanted this for you.” 

Ellie scoffed, which took you by furious surprise. 

“You don’t know that. He’s gone. It doesn’t matter what he wanted anymore.” 

It felt as if she slapped you right across the face. 

“I’m so fucking sick of this.” She finally said after a moment of silence. 

“What?” 

“I’m sick of this town. I’m sick of the people here. I can’t fucking stand being here for another second. I don’t want this.” 

You stood there shocked, staring at a stranger who looked remarkably like the girl you loved. 

You and Ellie continue to look at each other from opposite ends of the table. She seems as if she wants to say more, to apologize further. But she stops when you give her a forgiving smile. 

“It’s okay.” You say. 

She returns your smile, sadly but with gratitude. 

Your moment of reminiscence is interrupted when your waitress approaches your booth. 

“Oh my goodness, it’s the troublemaking duo!” Your waitress exclaims. “I didn’t know it was you that Ellie was waiting on!” 

Heat rises to your cheeks. 

“Hi, Wendy.” You say, recognizing the old woman. 

“It has been so long since I’ve seen you two together! Oh, and now you’re both so grown up!” Wendy gabbed. “Oh, Ellie, it’s so nice to have you back in town! Your Aunt Maria has been going on and on for weeks about how excited she and Tommy are that you’re moving back!” 

“Yeah, they seem pretty psyched to have me home,” Ellie says, smiling kindly. “It’s good to be back, Wendy.” 

“Maria kept wishing you would move back after you’d graduated college! And I kept telling her, ‘kids gotta get their feet wet first!’ But look at you, back home again finally!” 

“Yeah, Boston was pretty great. But it wasn’t for me, and I really missed Jackson.” 

Wendy smiled at this. 

“Oh, having you two back here like this feels like things never changed. I wish that I knew you were both coming in; otherwise, I would have saved your usual table!” Wendy says, gesturing towards a booth in the corner of the diner. 

You glance over and see a young couple sitting together, holding hands across the table. They were slightly obscured by this old, beat-up jukebox that was playing some old 80s song. 

“Oh, it’s alright, Wendy,” Ellie says, waving her hand. “We’re good here.” 

“Well, okay!” She dips her hand in her apron. “Oh my, I forgot my pen and pad! Oh, and I haven’t even brought you your coffee yet! I swear, I think my brain is slowly spilling out of my ears every day!” 

Ellie laughs and you grimace at the image. 

“Let me go grab those things real quick, and then I’ll take your gals’ order!” Wendy says gleefully. 

“That’d be great.” Ellie replies. 

Wendy beams at both of you before making her way back to behind the counter. 

“Since when did you drink coffee?” You ask Ellie, to which she shrugs. 

“Kind of grew on me back in college. Still have to drink it with tons of sugar and creamer, though.” She says. 

“Ahh, well, that explains the oat milk latte from the other day.” 

“Memorized my order, huh?” She teases. 

Wendy the waitress saves you from your bashfulness by arriving with two coffee cups in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. As Wendy pours into each of your cups, Wendy decides to gush more over the two of you. 

“I was just telling Esther in the back how much we would dread when you two rascals would come in here. I remember how you two would come in and order one milkshake to share and a plate of fries and then pay us with dimes and nickels! Drove us nuts to count it all out!” 

You and Ellie laugh nervously, embarrassed over your childhood antics. 

“And you’d come in here and play that one a-ha! song over and over again if you had any leftover change! Oh, we all got so sick of that song that Raja almost took out the jukebox at one point!” Wendy chortles. 

“Right, “Take on Me” was what we always played,” You recall. “Sorry, Wendy.” 

“Oh, it’s alright,” She says, waving you off. “In fact, someone put that song on the jukebox a few weeks back and it made me miss those good old days.” She sighs, reminiscing. 

Ellie glances at you while you look at Wendy in her reverie. Ellie’s eyes look gentle and affectionate, an expression that hasn’t adorned her face in years. 

“Oh, I do miss you youngsters and your shenanigans. Drove me crazy, but it kept me young. Do you recall when you came in here absolutely sopping wet, Ellie?” 

Ellie blushes suddenly, scratching the back of her neck as her freckles turn pink once more. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry about that.” 

“Oh, you got the floor all wet and dirty, and your usual booth smelled like wet dog for a week!” Wendy cackles. 

“Oh?” You ask. “When was that?” 

“It was back in—” Wendy starts, but another waitress called behind the counter. 

“Wendy, honey! Table 12 spilled orange juice everywhere; can you grab the mop?” 

“Oh darn,” Wendy says. “Let me go take care of this mess real quick, sweethearts! And I’ll be right back for your orders!” 

Wendy walks off quickly and leaves the two of you alone once more. 

You glance at Ellie. 

“When did that happen?” You question curiously. 

“Umm,” Ellie says nervously. “It was that day. At the lake.” 

Your face softens in recognition. 

“Els, come on!!” You yelled, pulling her with you. 

“Dude, no!” 

“Els, 17 is way too old to be afraid of the water!” 

“I am not afraid of the water!” Ellie said, breaking free from your grasp and crossing her arms. 

Joel had dragged you and Ellie with him for a fishing trip by a nearby lake. He’d forgotten his bait box back at his and Ellie’s home, and he left you and Ellie to your own devices while he drove back to grab it. Bored out of your mind, you were trying to convince Ellie to jump into the lake with you from a large rock that oversaw the water. 

“Then you won’t have any problems if I just…” You made the motion of pushing someone. “...throw you into the lake, by any chance?” 

Ellie backed away from you, holding her hands up. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, man,” She said. “I will never, ever forgive you.” 

You groaned then dragged your feet to the edge. You looked over at the lake. 

“It’s not that high of a jump, Els! Come on, Joel and I taught you to swim two summers ago!” 

“Let’s just get back to the shore, dude. He’ll be back any second.” She said. 

“You know Joel won’t be back for another half hour.” You replied, knowing that Joel would find a million other things to do before heading out again. You skipped over to where she stood feet away from the edge of the mini-cliff. 

You grabbed both of her hands in yours. Her breathing hitched when your skin touched hers. 

It had been a month since your little sister unveiled her drawing of you and Ellie sleeping together. Ever since then, Ellie seemed nervous to be near you, much less be touched by you. You were still best friends and still as close as ever, but there’d been a palpable tension in the air after that awkward moment in your bedroom. It was as if you were both just waiting for something to happen, something inevitable. 

“Pretty please, Els?” You asked your best friend, batting your eyelashes at her. She blushed furiously. 

“You’re gonna catch your death if you jump in. It’s chilly.” Ellie said. “And I’m not lending you my jacket if you get your clothes all wet.” 

“Fine.” You said. You release her hands and walk towards the edge once more. Ellie’s eyes widen as you begin shedding your clothing: first, your shoes, then your pants, and finally your shirt. 

Ellie averts her gaze as you were left in just your underwear. 

“Problem solved.” You said boldly. You walk back over to her. 

It wasn’t as if you and Ellie hadn’t seen each other intimately before, having been best friends for many years. But for the last month, she started seeing you in a much different light and looking at you this intimately was opening the floodgates.  

“Come on, Els.” You said, tugging on her shirt. “Take a leap with me.” 

Before Ellie could respond, you sighed and turned away from her to walk back near the water, discarded the rest of your clothing, and jumped off the edge with a scream. 

“Goddamn it.” Ellie said, rushing over to see where you’d dove. She watched as you eventually emerged, ripples reverberating around you. 

“Let’s go, Ellie!” You yelled from the water. 

Ellie backed away from the edge, took a deep breath, and said, “Fuck it.” 

She replicated your actions and took off her clothes, all the way down to her black sports bra and boxers. 

You were swimming around in circles when you saw Ellie’s stark naked figure plummeting into the lake before landing ten feet away from you. You beamed, wading towards her as she rose from underneath. 

“You actually did it!” You exclaimed. Ellie splashed you, lake water getting in your eyes. 

“Ellie!” You whined. 

“You’re the fucking worst!” She said, pouting. 

“You love me!” You said, ribbing. 

“No, you’re the worst, I hate you.” Ellie said, splashing you once more. You splashed her back. 

You both waded closer to the shore until you both felt your toes touch the bottom of the lake. 

“You jumped in for me, you fucking adore me!” You giggled. 

“Oh, please, you wish.” Ellie scoffed before you reached over to squeeze her cheeks together. 

“Hey!” She said, muffled. 

“Don’t deny your love for me, Miss Ellie Williams.” You teased before giggling again as you release her face. 

“Nope, hate you ‘til I die.” Ellie said stubbornly, to which you shove her shoulder.  

“Well, too bad, because I love you!” You said. 

“Uh-huh.” Ellie replied, rolling her eyes. 

She began to turn away from you to paddle towards the shore. 

You take a leap. 

“I do love you.” You suddenly said. 

“Yeah, I know, man.” 

“No, Ellie, I—” You said, stuttering. “I-I love you.” 

She turned back to face you. 

“What?” 

You swam closer to her until your faces were inches apart. 

“I love you, Ellie.” 

Ellie blinked. 

“I—” She began, unsure of what to say. 

“Sorry, I just—I just wanted to tell you that, that’s all.” You whispered, looking down at your submerged and naked figure instead of at her. 

“No, it’s okay, I—” Ellie started once more. “I-I love you too.” 

Your eyes shot up to meet hers. 

“What?” 

“Y-yeah, I—” Ellie began, but she’s cut off when your lips suddenly meet hers. 

It was as if fireworks began erupting within you. As the shock of your kiss wore off, Ellie melted into you as she grabbed your face to draw you closer to her. You wrapped your arms around her neck as she pulled you in tighter. 

No amount of fantasizing could ever prepare you for the euphoria that was kissing Ellie Williams. It was like everything fell into place, like your entire friendship was leading up to this. It felt so foolish that you hadn’t realized this sooner, that you had to wait all this time to let yourself fall in love with your best friend. 

You were both pulled into this bubble where it was just you, Ellie, and the lake. You felt inevitable. 

You broke off, needing to catch your breath. Your foreheads were pressed up against each other, both of you breathless. Your head felt empty but your heart was full. 

Before you could say anything, you felt Ellie’s hands leave your face. Your eyes shoot open to see Ellie already at the shore, bounding towards the rock you’d jumped off from. 

“Ellie!” You called out, but she didn’t respond. 

You watched as she reached the mini-cliff where you’d both left your clothing. You thought for a second that she was going to jump back in, but instead, she was pulling her clothes back on. 

You made your way to the shore, shivering and embracing yourself. 

“Ellie!” You called out again. “Where are you going?!” 

Ellie had pulled on her Converse, quickly tying the laces into knots. Fully dressed, she looked down at you, still bare and exposed. 

You could make out her face from where you were, but you didn’t recognize the look she wore. It wasn’t anger or pity or sadness. You’d never seen her make that expression before. 

You started towards the rock, but Ellie was quicker. She ran off before you even got close to her, dripping lake water behind her and leaving you still at the shore, naked and screaming for her to come back. 

“Oh,” You say. “This is where you came after that?” 

“Yeah,” Ellie replies. “Wasn’t sure where else to go.” 

“I always wondered,” You say. “Cause when Joel got back, we drove back to your house, and you weren’t there. You never said where you’d gone.” 

“Yeah, well. I was just some scared little kid.” She admits. 

“It’s okay,” You reassure. “Me too.” 

You stare once more into the ocean in her eyes. You didn’t mean to bring up the past. You’d wanted to keep this meeting bureaucratic, free from the judgment of yesterday. 

You decide to break the silence with humour. 

“Kind of crazy how you ran away from me real fast.” You giggle, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Ellie doesn’t laugh; instead, she takes a leap and reaches over to your free hand that you’d placed on the table, putting hers over it. 

Your eyes widen as she looks at you in a way that no one else ever has. 

“But I’m not running away now.” She says genuinely. 

You place your cup down and give her a soft smile. 

“Good.” You reply. 

You feel the water finally flow under the bridge. 

author’s notes:

sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda

sorry for teasing this for so long! i have issues

the reader's sister's name is based on my little sister's name kiko :) they're also an artist and currently studying to be an animator!

hope y'all enjoy this! spent so much coming up with the concept and writing about it cause i have such a connection to this song! let me know what you think and reblog if you can ♡

taglist: @digit4lslut, @jajsnjz, @callmelola111, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @gold-dustwomxn, @machetegirl109, @ximtiredx, @fireflyelllie, @brownshirtelliesgf, @sawaagyapong, @uraesthete

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Someone asked about places where they could find my creative works & how I make a living.

I’ve been a self-employed artist since 2017. The current economic climate is making that *very* difficult and I may well be giving up my beautiful business soon, but for now, I’m still clinging on by my fingernails. I’ve survived a lot longer than many of my colleagues and I’ve been VERY grateful and fortunate. (Yes, my profile photo is actually me, very cold, in my freezing workshop, in my ok-to-get-covered-in-paint-ugly-clothes 😂)

You can find me/support me here:

Etsy: I have *two* Etsy shops. I make (currently exclusively Good Omens) fan-based clothing, bags, and cushion covers at FullMoonFandom. and I make fan art and children's home decor, all hand painted on high quality medite wood at Lioncub Creations. This shop has been my main business for the past 8+ years and is my bread & butter. It's been hit HARD by the cost of living crisis.

Ko-fi: If you enjoy my writing, or just generally take pity on me, I'd think you were bloody amazing if you could please buy me a coffee (although I'll actually spend it on bills...sorry). No pressure, though, I know money's tight.

AO3: I write Good Omens fanfic under the username imposterssyndrome, I’ve been writing since November after my trauma therapist recommended it and it’s been the best thing I’ve ever done (especially after my mother told 8yo me that my writing was shit and I literally never wrote another piece of fiction until age 40). I skew angsty, love historical stuff and researching stuff. Did I mention Here Be Angst?

Wavelengths & Frequencies - I'm writing this wonderfully fun enemies-to-lovers human AU with the ineffable @shadesofecclescakes. This is a DJ AU and bloody hell does it ever help that she's a professional DJ herself, because I would have given up in the first chapter otherwise. This longfic will be funny, VERY piney, a teensy-tiny bit angsty (but not too much), smutty, and just generally a whole lot of fun. And it's got footnotes! And newspaper articles! And other stuff which I won't spoiler yet!. Rated E (and P for Piney-As-Fuck). WIP, published every Monday, due to be completed by Feb.

Free - a human AU, which begins with them meeting in an acute mental health ward, where they have both recently been admitted. Initially distrustful of one another, they slowly realise how much they have in common. It is VITAL to read the content warnings as there are many mental health themes. Rated E. Now complete.

Epistolary Series - Aziraphale's diaries, read by Crowley, a romp through history, the series includes an Aziraphale POV and more, rated E, currently made of 3 completed works.

Ineffable Inspirations Series - Individual oneshots, all based on songs. Currently 2 stories, based on Fiona Apple’s Shadowboxer (set in 1941) & Finger Eleven’s Paralyzer (set in 2021)

[seethesin]

rotaries and roses

pairing: Tattoo Artist!Corky x Florist!F!Reader

tags/warnings: modern au, tattoo artist/florist trope, first time tattoos, suggestive themes, cursing, teasing

a/n: requested by anonymous here. this was my biggest challenge yet because... this is smut free and i don't have tattoos 😭 i hope you guys don't mind how many liberties i took with this! as there are no gif hunts of gina as corky, this will have a gifless format. enjoy! 🥰

You found yourself at Corky's by the recommendation of a close friend. Every time you mentioned your desire for a tattoo, they would practically beg you to give the tattoo shop a chance before pulling up their Instagram page. The first thing you noticed was the address. The tattoo shop was on the same street as your flower shop; how you hadn't noticed it sooner was beyond you.

Your friend was right. You needed to take your ass over there. And now, there was no excuse not to.

Out of all the artists featured, the owner, Corky, had your favorite designs. Her Neo-Traditional style blew you away, and it was the post featuring a canvas with an array of roses that sealed the deal. They had always been your favorite flower, regardless of the stereotypical label they held. Every bouquet of roses that leaves your shop always receives your special attention. They never fail to bring a smile to your face, regardless of the color, quantity, or occasion. To have them on your body felt right to you and you wanted them in Corky's signature style.

You spent the rest of that evening mulling over what you wanted. It took you a few more days, but finally, you came to a decision. You wanted a ram surrounded by Corky's roses. A ribbon would wind around the portrait of the ram with the phrase: My will is sturdy inscribed on it. The design was perfect and you knew Corky would do your vision justice.

Your consultation was the first time you meant Corky outside of emailing her. A studded leather jacket was haphazardly thrown over her white tank top. You couldn't tell what brand of jeans she wore, but they did wonders for her legs. Her steel-toed boots clicked on the hardwood floor as she came to greet you. You accepted her offered hand into a shake and couldn't stop yourself from memorizing the callouses on her palm within those few, fleeting seconds. Her brown hair was perfectly unkempt and a permanent, knowing smirk was glued onto her face.

"I'm Corky."

She was hot. You were fucked.

After your initial greetings, she brought you to the back where her desk was so you both could work through your design. You found as many references as possible, including the same array of roses you saw on her shop's Instagram page. Corky chuckled fondly as she examined the canvas, lips quirking into a genuine smile.

"This is some of my older work," she mused as if she was warning you. Her gaze flickered through her lashes, brow quirked inquisitively at you.

"It's one of my favorites," you admit and Corky's smile only grows at your confession.

The close proximity allows you to catch onto her scent: fresh smoke and citrus. You want her to tattoo it into your lungs.

"Give me an hour and I'll have something nice for you. I'll call you when I'm finished."

One phone call later and you were back in her shop. Unsure of proper etiquette in the tattooing world, you had brought back coffee for both yourself and Corky. You needed a pick me up and it felt strange not to share with her. Shyly, you offered her a cup which she graciously accepted. Your guess of Corky taking her coffee black was right; you swallow a smile at the thought. She leads you back to her desk so she can present you her work.

It's overwhelming how beautiful Corky's art is. Everything about it is perfect and truly, you can't think of anything else to add, remove, or change. The roses woven through the ram's horns, the brilliant blue outline, and the delicate font she chose for the banner were small details you would have never considered on your own.

Your lack of a verbal response makes Corky laugh, leaning in closer.

"Stunned ya speechless, huh?" she teased and you can't help but laugh with her.

"It's gorgeous, Corky."

There's something on Corky's tongue as she pauses. Silently, you watch her shake whatever thought it was away before refocusing on you.

"Where do you want this?"

You pause to think.

"I think my thigh would be the best. I've read that it's one of the better places to get your first tattoo."

This information slaps a smile back on her face.

"You read right. That works for me."

Soon after, you discuss the rest of the housekeeping tasks regarding your tattoo. Once you put an initial deposit down, you decide on a date a month later. You bid Corky goodbye and return to your flower shop to close up for the night. Before you retire to bed, you start working on a custom rose bouquet for one of your clients.

The roses are beautifully crimson, just like the ones Corky drew for you.

"I'll be with ya in a moment!" A disembodied voice calls from the next room over at the sound of the doorbell. You nod—more to yourself—before shutting the door behind you.

A month blew by quicker than you anticipated. Tonight, you found yourself awkwardly stationed at the front door of Corky’s tattoo shop with a cup of coffee in each hand. On her recommendation, you came well-fed, hydrated, and with eight hours of sleep under your belt. You donned a loose, simple dress, figuring it would make Corky's job tonight easier.

What you didn't realize was that she booked you as her closer tonight. The shop was empty and immediately, you felt yourself sweating. Silently, you asked whatever higher powers existed to refrain from making you out into a fool tonight.

Shifting on your heels, you visibly brighten at the sound of Corky's boots thundering towards you. She appears from the backroom, grinning ear to ear as she walks towards you. She's clad in another plain white tank top and dark jeans, revealing the complex sleeves her leather jacket hid. The most notable tattoo is of a labrys on her upper arm.

"Hey stranger," she greets, raising her brows as you offer her a coffee cup. "You spoil me; thank you."

You don't miss the way her eyes drag down your frame.

Corky's fingers slide against yours as she takes the coffee from you. Her touch is electric and you hold back from shivering. If something so innocuous got to you, you don't know how you'll last tonight.

"My pleasure." You don't mean to sound so breathless, but you were currently recovering from her touch. Corky merely smiles and beckons you to follow her. You do so wordlessly, stepping up and over to her workstation.

She sifts through her desk before pulling out the stencil of your tattoo. Turning on her heel, she presents it to you and you nearly choke on your coffee.

It’s perfect.

Every detail from her initial artwork has been transcribed onto the stencil. You find yourself hypnotized as you lean in closer. It needs to be on your body now.

"Corky," you start and she laughs, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You do so quickly, placing your belongings on an empty side table out of the way.

"Don't go worshipping me yet," she teases, easily picking up on the dreaminess laced in your voice.

She drags over a small, wheeled cart, completely set up for your session. You're unfamiliar with everything on it, but you watch carefully as she sets up her rotary machine. After checking to make sure you didn't have a latex allergy, Corky puts on a pair of black, single-use gloves.

"I still gotta tattoo it."

Pulling her stool over, her gloved hand goes to your thigh. The edge of her thumb grazes the hem of your dress and tenderly—so tenderly you might faint—she pushes the skirt up. You meet her in the middle, pulling it the rest of the way so it settles just over your hips. Cool air immediately rushes between your thighs and you've never felt more exposed. Corky guides your leg towards her and the thought of her face buried in your cunt flashes in your mind. Swiftly, you shake it away.

You allow her to position you as she sees fit while she preps your skin. Once satisfied, she presses the stencil to your skin to transfer the design. It takes all of your restraint to stay still and on the chair. How were you going to make it through a two hour session?

"Go check it out in the mirror." Corky points her thumb behind her and her voice sucks you back from your reverie.

Holding your dress skirt up, you walk to the wall mirror and examine the design. Turning to her, you hold a thumb up as she stares intensely at the exposed flesh. She hums in approval and you hurry back onto the chair. You get comfortable and again, Corky's hands are on your thigh. She's readjusting you and your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning.

"Are you ready?"

You nod.

"Let's begin."

The first ten minutes are relatively quiet. The buzz of the rotary is the only thing distracting you from the dull pain in your thigh. Well, that and the fact that her other hand is gripping your thigh in a way that makes your head spin. Corky pipes up first over the noise.

"What do you do?"

You beam; you adore answering this question.

"I'm a florist!" You watch as Corky's brows raise in interest, her gaze intensely fixed on your leg as she works. "I actually own the flower shop just up the street."

The buzzing stops completely and her eyes are glued to your face, lips parted in surprise.

"You own Fern & Flora?"

You nod proudly, practically glowing from the recognition.

"No shit; one of my girls, Sue, is there every two weeks buying flowers for her girlfriend."

Corky's machine whirs back to life and the prickly pain on your thigh returns. You hum to yourself, going over a mental list of your regulars and who could fit the profile Corky described.

"She's always going on about how her girlfriend likes the—"

"Violets." You finish thoughtfully, unable to stop the genuine smile growing across your face. "Margaret's favorite flowers are violets and Sue never lets me forget it."

You watch the way Corky's face softens as you speak. Her thumb presses against your inner thigh and your breath hitches quietly in your throat.

"What's your favorite flower?"

Staring down at her in disbelief, a chuckle pushes from your throat. You gesture to the tattoo she was currently working on, hoping to highlight the array of roses she was getting ready to outline.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Corky's shoulders raise into a shrug, glancing up at you quickly before refocusing on your thigh.

"Hey, forgive me for making small talk." The smile in her voice is evident and you find yourself grinning along with her.

"What's your favorite flower?" You toss the question back to Corky, ready to take her answer and brand it into the back of your mind.

She takes a moment to think about your question. If it wasn't obvious already, you could tell that this was something Corky hadn't previously thought about.

"I think I'm going to have to swing by your shop at some point to answer that question."

You can't help but blush. Was she flirting with you?

"I'd like that," you admit, fiddling with your fingernails.

Corky doesn't respond, instead reabsorbing herself back into her work. But a sly smirk plays on her lips and you have to stare up at the ceiling to keep your thoughts at bay.

"I think you'd like cornflowers." You finally state after a minute of silence. The cool colors and perky petals reminded you of Corky's persona. The bouquets that you crafted with them were some of your favorites so far.

"I think I'd like anything you recommend."

Okay, she's definitely flirting with you. Brazenly, you reply with: "Then I recommend you visit me sooner rather than later."

"Oh yeah?" There's a teasing edge in Corky's voice and you feel the warmth rise to your cheeks. Her voice drops an octave lower and you've completely disregarded the pain in your thigh. "And why's that?"

In that moment, you’ve forgotten everything about yourself. The only things you could comprehend were Corky’s hands groping your flesh and the irritating whizzing of the rotary. You suddenly feel hot and the idea of stripping your dress off grows more attractive with each passing second.

“I want to make a bouquet for you.” The sentence is rushed from your own nervousness, but you mean every word. “The sooner you stop by, the better of a selection I’ll still have for the season.”

Caught off guard, Corky sputters out a cough. However, she doesn’t stop working. The machine is still on as she finishes the outline of your tattoo without issue. You glance down curiously and witness her face flush crimson. A delighted giggle squeezes from your throat and you swear Corky blushes deeper than before.

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Your laughter is replaced with a kind smile. “Promise?”

She nods.

The rest of your session goes swiftly. Corky works like a machine: detailed, efficient, and insanely accurate. Your small talk comes and goes in waves, more so that she can focus on her work above all else. With a final wipe of her towel, your tattoo is finished two hours later. She grins eagerly before looking up at you.

"Wanna check it out?"

You don't miss a beat: "Uh, of course!"

You practically spring off the chair, stretching your legs as you scurry over to the mirror. The hem of your dress is still bawled in your fists as you stare at your thigh. You can hear Corky snickering at you while you fawn over her work.

"Holy shit..." You are awestruck and you turn to her, gaping before turning back to the mirror.

"It looks incredible," she agrees, discarding her gloves before pulling the rolling cart over to the side and out of the way. She goes to her workstation, pulls a few documents out, and scribbles something down as you continue to gape and stare at your new tattoo.

You return to Corky's workstation, gathering your belongings as you ready your wallet. She turns to face you again, handing you paperwork and guidance on how to maintain your new tattoo. You listen to her instructions carefully, unable to stop yourself from staring at her chapped lips every few moments.

"Do you have any questions?" You shake your head, averting your gaze to the papers she gave you. It essentially regurgitated what she said aloud, but you were thankful to have something written to refer to. Corky had also included her business card that you examined, noting the handwritten number just below her professional contact information.

"Actually, I do have a question," you start, not looking up from the papers in your hands. "Do you give all of your clients your personal number?"

Turning the documents to Corky, you point at the handwritten digits just below her work email. She flushes briefly before clearing her throat.

"Well no," she starts and a grin is already curling on your lips, watching as she gathers her thoughts. "But I figured it would make sense to give it to you. For tomorrow."

You hum thoughtfully, glancing over at her workstation before looking at her.

"Can I borrow that?" You gesture at a Sharpie marker on the side and she snatches it up before handing it to you.

"Give me your arm."

Corky stares at you, bewildered by your demand, but obediently offers her right arm to you. Your fingers clasp her wrist, outstretching it so that her fingertips just barely graze the top of your chest.

You miss the sharp inhale Corky takes.

Carefully, you jot your phone number down, making sure to avoid writing over the pinup girl tattoo facing you. Once finished, you push the cap back on and place the marker in her open palm.

"For tomorrow," you parrot, giddily watching the flustered look wash over Corky's face. She nods quickly, clutching the marker before stammering for you to follow her so she can take the rest of your payment. You trail behind her, already working out flower combinations in your mind for Corky's bouquet.

Out of all the ones you can think of, cornflowers and roses are the most fitting.

🦇 tag list: @crvptidsmain, @astroph1les, @uraesthete

[aethon-recs]

Hi! Thank you for all your recs. I have downloaded most of them and read most of them during my 2 weeks family vacation. They were great. I was wondering if you could recommend me any tomarry crack fics that are hilarious.

This was such a fun ask, thank you for sending this in! I had a ton of fun revisiting some old favorites in this ship that made me laugh and cry-laugh and then laugh some more. As I was rereading and sorting through the fics on this list, I noticed a few recurring themes that came up... coffeeshop AUs, social media fics, funeral-themed fics(!???), and a myriad of food-themed fics. 

I really hope you enjoy this selection of hilarious silly clever witty cracky takes on Tomarrymort 🤍

*

Tomarrymort Crack Recs

A Slice of Heaven by jellybeantarot (M, 3k, complete)

Tom is a sex worker under an agency that masks as a pizzeria, Harry orders a large sausage pizza, and yep, that's a dick in a pizza box.

almost got in a knife fight after work (a thread) / things i’ve learned since dating knife boy (a follow-up thread) by chaoscookiescrimes  (T, 2k, complete)

just Harry @'thechosenone' All im saying is a pocketknife is a purchase you’ll almost never regret.

and they were roommates by @purplemineralwater (M, 3k, complete)

Tom and Harry, roommates and stars of Gogglebox, are adored by their fans. Unbeknown to them, the fans of the show want them to be more than friends.

cam and get it by @swoontodeath (E, 3k, WIP)

Harry Potter isn't one for pornography. He's got a perfectly adequate imagination, thank you very much, not to mention a fully functional right hand. One accidental glimpse of Tom Riddle's arse, though, threatens to change everything.

Coffee Moste Evile by @wynnefic (T, 4k, complete)

After graduating Hogwarts, Tom finds work at Borgin & Burke's, where he diligently sells the darkest of arts(-themed coffee and pastries).

Dark Lord Coffee by @being-luminous (T, 4k, complete)

In which Voldemort runs his empire from a coffee shop, and wizards are generally very ridiculous.

Dearly Beloved by @wynnefic (T, 3k, complete)

Worn down after countless demands, Harry breaks and finally goes on a date with the incredibly ostentatious, vain, and self-absorbed Tom Marvolo Riddle the Third. A few days later, he attends Tom's funeral, which goes much better.

Do You Want Fries With That? (part 1) / Tom's Time Has Fry-nally Come (part 2) by jellybeantarot (T, 16k, complete)

Harry really needed some money, Dumbledore needed someone to dress up as Wendy, and Tom was the only one with the desperation to be Ronald McDonald.

found you sleeping in my coffin by @the-wig-is-a-metaphor (M, 6k, complete)

Harry gets turned into a vampire. For better or worse, Tom is there to help.

Full circle by tetsurashian (NR, 67k, WIP)

Harry and Tom’s souls are tied together. Which is why they’re in this endless loop of rebirth. At some point, they stopped caring and just started fucking with people.

Harry James [Redacted] by @duplicitywrites (T, 24k, WIP)

It had been three weeks since Harry had mistakenly landed in the 1970s, given his name to Dumbledore as Harry James, and been re-Sorted as a Slytherin. He's now broken the timeline, busted his parents' first date, and potentially botched his chances of ever being born. And, just maybe, he's also caught the attention of a certain rising Dark Lord.

Harry Potter and the—Well, Anything But This by @cindle-writes (E, 21k, WIP)

It’s 12 years after the war has ended that Death sends Harry back in time to fix the timeline and save his soulmate. Except there's one catch. Harry has to start over again from his first year.

Hiss Hiss by @vdoshu (G, 1k, complete)

Harry goes to buy himself a pet for Christmas. Tom sees this as an opportunity.

Inventing Paradoxes (part 1) / Deconstructing Paradoxes (part 2) by @perhaps-sunlight (G, 75k, complete)

When budding Dark Lord Tom Riddle overhears a prophecy predicting his demise at the hands of Harry Potter, he hatches a devious and brilliant plan: befriend the enemy, master the power-that-he-knows-not, and then eliminate him.

Keeping Your Human-Child Horcrux Happy in Captivity; A Guide to Enrichment (part 1) / The Horcrux Hotline (part 2) by @cannibalinc (M, 9k, complete)

A self-improvement series for Dark Lords with troublesome human-horcruxes. 

Local Preteens Entrap Murderous Wraith (You Won’t Believe What Happens Next) by @being-luminous (T, 22k, complete)

Harry, Ron, and Hermione discover a spell. They decide to perform it, and no one is pleased with the result.

Magically Delicious by @dividawrites, @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete)

Draco Malfoy is selling 'Voldemort Bathwater Boxes' at Hogwarts for questionable, unknown reasons. Harry is more curious than he should be, and this has disastrous consequences for everyone... but mostly for Harry.

no amount of therapy can help by @the-wig-is-a-metaphor (G, 2k, WIP)

The entire internet is aware of occultist youtuber Lord Voldemort's infatuation with niche content creator JustHarry. The entire internet is baffled.

no helping hand by TheOnceandFutureQueenofTarts (M, 2k, complete)

Harry just wants to have a wank; Voldemort just wants to make that as difficult and unsatisfying as possible.

Once a Paw a Time by @youlighttheskyfanfiction (T, 3k, complete)

In which Tom is still Tom, and Harry is a black cat intent on making Tom miserable. Or happy. Who knows? Certainly not Harry the cat who is absolutely just a normal cat.

Oversight by @dividawrites (E, 21k, WIP)

Voldemort’s resurrection ritual doesn’t go as smoothly as he’d planned. He requires assistance and there’s only one person he can ask—the boy tied to his father’s gravestone.

Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 68k, WIP)

Harry and Voldemort find themselves locked up in a mysterious prison.

r/AITA by @seagate-blog (G, 3k, complete)

A budding relationship seen through the eyes of Reddit posts.

Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k, complete)

In which Draco Malfoy is dead in the kitchen, Harry is regretting moving in with his boyfriend, and Tom has never been more in love.

Stories Told at Your Funeral by IceLynx (G, 5k, complete)

Tom Riddle fakes his death. To Harry Potter, the man in charge of Tom's funeral, it's all very vexing. Harry might be an undertaker, but this is a very different undertaking.

Terms and Conditions May Apply by @duplicitywrites (T, 17k, WIP)

Lord Voldemort gets one chance at a new life. This new chance comes with a lot of conditions.

The Potter Problem by Icefall (T, 8k, complete)

During his twenty-fourth time loop, Lord Voldemort meets Harry Potter at a Muggle nightclub.

The Way to a Man’s Heart by @mosiva (T, 26k, complete)

Tom has an unknown nemesis. Harry has Tom’s lunch.

The Voice of Victory by @vdoshu (T, 3k, complete)

Lord Voldemort loves a good villain speech. Harry’s just the sort to interrupt him.

Thigh High by @kushimanii (T, 400, complete)

There, covering Harry’s long, smooth legs, were the most horrifying things Tom had ever seen. And Harry was lying in their bed with them. Tom knew what his new Boggart was.

Until Midnight Comes by @dividawrites (E, 26k, complete)

A few years after the war Harry reluctantly attends a party at Malfoy Manor. He drinks a few too many and runs into a handsome man called Tom. What happens after is definitely not a drunken error in judgement—it’s love at first, blurry sight instead.

Welcome to the Cultys by @duplicitywrites (E, 12k, WIP)

Harry had two main regrets in his life: 1. Asking the question “What if I set up a mock awards show to get cult leaders to show up for my thesis study?” 2. Responding with “That is hilarious” when Ron had suggested they call the awards show 'The Cultys'.

Would You Still Love Me? by @chiocchi (M, comic/artwork, WIP)

"Harry, would you still love me if I was a snake?" Harry knows how this question works. No matter how deranged and unreasonable it is, he has to say yes. A notion he may come to regret once Tom's questions start to get darker and oddly specific.

yer a monster fucker, harry by @exarite (M, 3k, complete)

Voldemort suggests they fake a relationship. It's a reasonable suggestion, so of course Harry says yes.

*

[schmem14]

It’s my birthday! Celebrate with me by reading my top favorite fanfic discoveries this past year. (Feel free to flail with me in DM’s!) I feel so lucky to have found so many wonderful talented friends and amazing stories! 

1. flour and flesh by foxglovetonic (nocturn) Hermione x Pansy, wc: 666 rating: M

(Mind the tags) This sapphic horror fic gripped my soul from the moment I read it and it lives rent-free in my head because of its amazing imagery and masterful use of unreliable narrator. I’ll be forever creeped out by carving pumpkins and pie (but in the BEST way, I swear!) This is the #1 reason Halloween is my fav. 

2. Usually by @lumosatnight Percy x Oliver, wc: 1k, rating: E

What’s not to love about banter, chess as foreplay, and stripping down until there’s nothing left but heart-pounding hot AF sex? This pairing is fantastic, and Lani’s writing is on point, as always, and I was incredibly impressed by the real live chess match taking place in the background. Read it, you won’t regret it! 

3. drink up, boys by @emilyrickman gen work featuring Parvati Patil, wc: 1.5k, rating: M

(Mind the tags) I URGE you give this gripping revenge story a chance! Between Parvati’s confidence and the absolute heartbreaking and empowering ode to sisterly love, this story gave me goosebumps. Emily is such a great writer, and I can’t stress enough how well the feels come through on this one. Also, give the song What It Means To Be a Girl by EMELINE a listen as you read, it will elevate the whole experience! 

4. One Woman’s Trash by @nanneramma Lavender x Hermione wc: 2k, rating: T

My friend Nan can do it all, and I don’t care that coffee shop AU has been done a thousand and one times before, THIS is the one to read! Lavender is to die for in this, and the fluff is pure, gourmet sweetness. It will have you kicking your feet and squealing by the end. 

5. Head Over Heels by @vdoshu Narcissa x Mrs. Zabini, wc: 575, Rating: M

This itty bitty fic is singlehandedly feeding my Narcissa Mommy delusion. I want her to step on me SO BAD! Ugh. Doshu packs a punch with every story, and the punchline of this one is sure to have you gasping like a beached fish. Please come scream at me about it if and when you know what I mean. 

6. Welcome, Peasants by @fluxweeed Draco x Ron x Harry, wc: 15k, Rating: E

It was nearly impossible for me to pick just ONE of my favorite fics from Dronarry fest this year, but I narrowed it down to two. Strap in for an hour and immerse yourself because the payoff is WORTH IT!  This one blends the juicy polyjuice trope with a healthy dollop of mistaken identity and a pinch of jealousy. Better yet is the twisty reveal and the absolutely smut-tastic finale that follows.

7. For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight Severus x Harry, wc: 7k, Rating: E

Yes Lani, I couldn’t resist another! I feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not usually a Snarry fan, but this filthy Priest AU fic is EVERYTHING. The dynamic of guilt and forbidden church sex (while church is IN SESSION) is so fucking delectable. I’m going to just say it and embarrass myself: Insta-Wank Bank. Yep. 

8. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w Draco x Ron (x Harry), wc: 5k, Rating: M

…Which brings me to my SECOND Dronarry fest pick from this year, and I love it so much because it’s all banter and hypotheticals. Draco and Harry are a couple, but Draco and Ron share a car ride where it comes out that maybe they’ve been considering a three-way with Ron. They don’t even fuck, but the tension of them just talking about it is too hot to handle. Bonus: There’s art at the end! 

9. Mistletoe Mojito by @amethystheart2421 Sybill x Severus, wc: 3k, Rating: E

This fic knocked me flat on my ass. This lust potion fueled one-night stand fic had me laughing and crying (from hilarity and absurdity and sadness) all at once. Such delightful writing, and the perfect example of crack taken seriously. 

10. All That Is Beautiful, Burns In The Making by @sailtomarina Narcissa x Bill, wc: 8k, Rating: E

Narcissa is hot. Bill is hot. We all know this from canon, but imagine they get together and how much hotter they are as a couple! This fic contains such delights as werewolf Bill, seduction, forbidden love, infidelity, knotting, endless refractory periods, voyeurism, rough sex, and mating. It’s not quite A/B/O but it has a lot of the elements that make it such a juicy AU.

11. A Perfect Answer by @p1013 Draco x Harry wc: 9k, Rating: E

Downton Abbey AU. Harry is Draco’s valet and the love is very much forbidden. Contains: pining, jealousy, decorum, emerald cufflinks that Draco favours, and BATHS. Something about it reminds me of Jane Eyre, though I know that’s a different time period and there’s no crazy wife in the attic. I loved this fic so much because it was a well-written AU and it brought a breath of fresh air to an old favorite otp. The angst is divine, and the ending is such a lovely payoff. Enjoy! 

[azsazz]

Hiii 👋 just wanted to say I adore your writing ☺️ I always get so happy when I see you’ve written something new 😁

I was curious to ask, what are some of your favourite modern AU jobs/roles for the bat boys (whether you’ve written about them or not)? Or just any ACOTAR characters?

CEO Rhys has been done a lot, but for good reason, it’s so perfect. He almost has to be effortlessly rich and/or in some position of power, like a prince, or a mafia boss.💰 I also kinda like to imagine him as a nepo baby set to take over his father’s company, but he breaks away or gets cut off, so with his very little actual job experience (as he was all set to inherit), he gets a barista job at a lil coffee shop. ☕️

Cass would definitely suit something physical, like an ice hockey player, or a firefighter, or a personal trainer. I could so see him being a gym teacher as well, imagine him coaching a kids ice hockey team. 💪🏽 He would SO volunteer to be a nude model in life drawing classes in his free time 😆 Though I hadn’t considered it before I read your stuff, I think he really fits a small town rancher too. I can so picture him in jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt, driving around in an old rusty faded red truck 👨‍🌾

Az could easily be in the FBI or something, but choosing something further away from his canon role, I seriously think he’d be an awkward computer programmer / software engineer nerd, or a twitch gamer, 👨🏻‍💻 with a secret anonymous OnlyFans or erotic audio patreon on the side. 😏 And I reckon he’d ride a motorcycle and tinker with it in his spare time, so might also enjoy working at a garage. 🏍️ I really love him in Midnight Muse, and think he suits a shy amateur artist / tattoo artist as well.

I also love the bat boy band idea I’ve seen a lot recently, where Rhys is the charismatic lead singer and guitarist, Az is the quiet songwriting bassist, and Cass is the energetic drummer. 🎶

Sorry it’s so long, I just love thinking about this stuff 😄

Hiiii!! Thank you so so much! I saw this message this morning but wanted to wait until I could give it my full attention and have my computer around, so thank you for your patience! 💙

Okay, some of my favorite AUs for the batboys? This is a wonderful question!

Rhys: Normally, I just think of Rhys as always having some sort of money/job inherited. So CEO, mafia, anything that puts him in a position of power, really, but i think it's mostly because those just reflect the books.

I do, however, love love love art school rhys. painter rhys. working at the local art supply degenerate rhys who still has wealthy parents but is trying to stick it to the man rhys. steals erasers and petty things from the art supply rhys. love him so much.

There's also something to be said about young adult rhys who's messing around with his little sister's best friend rhys. he gets me going too.

also captain of the hockey team rhys is a solid choice for him as well.

Cass: LOVE ME SOME RANCHER/COWBOY/SMALL TOWN CASSIAN. but, these are all very different. small town cass doesn't trust women, heart broken at a young age with the girl he thought was his forever. doesn't want to leave town, likes the ranch because its safe and its what he knows. cowboy cass or bull rider cassian, famous for breaking horses and backs. grumpy, gruff rancher cassian always gets me going tbh he's fucking hot as shit

i also always see him in a blue collar role like a mechanic or welder are the two i mostly attribute to him.

def something physical as well, we love hockey cass, rugby cass, wrestler (wwe lol) cass, dang i had another on my mind for sports cass but i forgot. sad. OH surfer cassian. jock type tho i can see him as. love the firefighter vibe for him too, he'd fill out the tight fire department t-shirt WELL LADIES and also volunteers for wet t-shirt contests. omg gym teach cass would be adorable as hell! oof another thought, contractor cassian ffs that would be so yummy

Az: Az i agree fits the FBI (stalker) vibes. i also like to think of him in finance or computer science too. omfg the erotic audio that's iconic and i'd def subscribe to that. hmmm what else could i see azzy doing...maybe something with music or writing...i could see him being a ghost writer of some sort and then one day his song plays on the radio and he's like hey i wrote that and literally no one believes him. something behind the scenes or where he can go unnoticed is mostly where i place him, tbh. honestly maybe even something military because he takes comfort in having a set schedule and people telling him what to do at every minute of the day. he'd fare well i think. perfect. operative because if the mission goes south and he gets captured he's not telling a soul anything.

Eris: idk why this thought came to my head but i was thinking about architecture but i think eris would be a fantastic interior designer lol. like i could see it. maybe i was just thinking about him furnishing az's new place and having a lil sparky. i could also see him as a lawyer too or something like that, something where he can be the know-it-all, smirking at them and looking down his nose at them...

Lucien: Architecture for sure. or professor. I could see him doing either of these. maybe even lawyer tbh, he would be good at that too, though i know he's immaculate at twisting stories and words so you gotta be careful of that.

Tamlin: poet? lol. professional gaslighter? jk i love tammy. maybe he installs security systems? haha just kidding just kidding. he's a tough one tho. idk why i added him but i guess also a musician but low-key soothing music, instrumental for sure...prob has a podcast where he just bullshits all day

hopefully i didn't rant for too long about this 🤭💙 this was so much fun though thank you for asking!

[violet-prism-creatively]

My live reactions to Harrow the Ninth

Continued from my pre-reading assumptions and post-reading thoughts about Gideon the Ninth

Everyone who said "Harrow the Ninth will take a while to make sense, be patient and it will pay off" was absolutely right! I made a lot of notes throughout with predictions, some of which were correct and some of which were... not.

Theories that were wrong:

The Emperor wiped Harrow's memory of Gideon

Gideon has spoken with The Body

The Body's eyes now appear yellow because they're Gideon's eyes

Harrow only sees her own eyes as black because she wiped her memory of Gideon, everyone else perceives them as gold

The Sleeper is The Body

The Sleeper is Gideon

"Ortus the First" is Gideon (the Ninth)

Harrow is haunted by Gideon

The picture in Camilla, Coronabeth, & Judith's shuttle is of Gideon

Cytherea's body moving around is a hallucination

Gideon's sword is haunted by the lyctor who established the Ninth House

I also did make some pretty good guesses, though. Here's some more of my notes that are just fun reactions!

"Her parents had... found out... about what she had done" SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER GIDEON'S VITAL ROLE IN THIS

This Teacher is a lot more helpful

there are advantages to having God himself as a father figure

"the grey-wrappered figures of Camilla Hect and Palamedes Sextus laid on the slabs in the mortuary" NO :(

bookmarking this other incomprehensible clue

it's that graffiti S that everyone drew in elementary school lol

"You had noticed at previous dinners that he did not like some particular vegetables, so you had put them all in." that's so petty, I love it

"said Camilla Hect" YAY

"the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded" Palamedes!

Harrow never got actual sword training as a lyctor, did she? Now Camilla can help her!

"Nobody had seen you walk through that door [to The Tomb]. Nobody had watched you leave." GIDEON SAW AND THAT'S WHAT'S GOING TO CONVINCE HARROW THAT SHE'S NOT INSANE, EVENTUALLY

"What a destructive, romantic, ridiculous act. It was always a certain kind of ass who approached love like that" yeah it's a certain kind of stupid, heroic, selfless, etc. to make yourself forget the person you're in love with to protect them

"Harrow Nova" another alternate universe where Harrow is in Gideon's role?????

"they've got a hotshot new BARI star" oh my god it's a coffee shop au in space

SHE REMEMBERS GIDEON!!!!!!! (how??)

"You sawed open your skull rather than be beholden to someone. [...] Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." AAAAAAAAA!!!!

"I was, and am, a grown man, and you both were neglected children" thank you Ortus for taking responsibility. actually a decent person

"What the fuck is going on?" yeah i feel u babe

"'The only thing that ever stopped me being exactly who I wanted,' she said, 'was the worry that I would soon be dead... and now I am dead, and I am sick of roses, and I am horny for revenge.'" hell yeah!!

oh Ianthe was gaslighting her. yeah Gideon wreck her!

"you'd kept my sunglasses" awww

"I never made her look like that. She can't love me, even if I'd wanted her to." aw :( and she's still so devoted anyway

"Your art, not my strength, was the ultimate source of our victory." so Ortus does get to be a hero after all, in his own way!

"Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity" I remember seeing posts about this name now! lol

yeah it's a weird chain of people in other people's bodies (Gideon would love the innuendo)

"We needed your, ahem, genetic material" Ianthe was right, ew. Also Gideon is the daughter of God I guess?

"You watched us kill our cavaliers in cold blood, and none of them had to die." ok that is a pretty bad thing for him to do

the tragedy that Gideon only had John as a father for a few minutes, while Harrow had him as a father figure for months but didn't want that

"'my necromancer started an affair with your mother... not knowing I'd also been doing the same thing, using his body.' // I said, 'What the fuck.'" extremely valid reaction from Gideon

"Oh, we'll still hate each other, my dear, we have hated each other too long and too passionately to stop... but my bones will rest easy next to your bones." that's kinda romantic in its own way

to be fair, if John dies, the entire solar system of Dominicus dies

"We died" no actually I think you might be alive and being saved

???????? Another alternate reality memory thing??

Multiple notes about how Harrow might just be the way she is because of growing up in a temple with strict routine, no social interaction, and no variety of sensory input... but I'm headcanoning her as autistic. Also headcanoning Gideon as ADHD, and autism/ADHD gay couples are my favorite ships.

Tagging people who have been following along. I'm going to switch to not tagging people anymore after this, but tagging all posts as #violet reads tlt, and you can follow the tag. @procrastinationaccount @vivaciouscynner @pearlofmydreams @cursed-druid-girl @ghostly-atv

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 29 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You dare not put it down on the big tablet on your easel where John will see, but you can’t stop yourself from drawing it out in your smaller sketchbook-journal that is easier to squirrel away under clutter, putting down marks like you mean to exorcise her from your memory. You draw her like a ghost in her field of happy white flowers, and write in the margins in your looping script, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make him forgive you. You want me to save him but I don’t know how. I don’t fucking know how.

Maybe she’ll actually hear your plea and do something useful about it, like haunt John’s dreams instead of yours.

Maybe you’re losing your damn mind. 

You find that either way, you’re not brave enough to mention her to your captor again.

She becomes an obsession, and you keep drawing her in your little sketchbook. You’ve only ever seen one picture of her. It was in the den, but has since disappeared. Still, you feel you know the lines of her face, the brightness of her eyes. You go back to your old fixation with the ladies of Mucha, sketching her out as the Lady of the Daisies with flowing auburn hair surrounded by her stylized flowers and flowing lines.

You strive to cover your true fixation by putting down anything as quickly as you can on the easel, knowing your captor will be by for inspection. You draw sunflowers, your favorite summer bloom, something fun but you can do with your eyes closed with colorful, juicy strokes of oil pastels. You hope to keep John off the scent of the book that holds your heartfelt neuroses that you bury under piles of all your new art supplies and anything else you can find.

It was stupid, of course, to think you could really hide anything from him.

One day you find him in the chair with his legs crossed, perusing your sketch journal with one of those magnificent thunderheads of a frown.

You are certain you are fucked, when he asks, “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Trembling as you imagine what he’s going to do to you for this infraction, you answer truthfully, “No.”

He closes the book with a snap, crossing the floor to stand before you, his powerful body moving deceptively slow, the way a tiger appears slothful in the jungle.

You know he can snap you up with one bite.

You cannot stop shaking, as he peers down that straight nose at you, pinning you with black eyes that somehow burn. He does not touch you, but God. He sees everything. You just know that he sees everything, and you find you are terrified of how he’ll react.  

“Have you been snooping through my things?”

“No.” The irony of him holding your sketch diary is not lost on you, but wisely you hold your tongue.

“How did you know what she looked like?”

“You had a picture out of her, ages ago.” At least, it felt like a like a lifetime ago.

“How did you know about the daisies?”

Now you know he’s going to flip his shit. It sounds fucking absurd, even to you. Your voice can barely rasp past what feels like dried twigs in your throat to whisper, “I saw them in a dream.”

You expect him to scoff and call you a liar. But he just searches your face, his eyes a little too wild for your liking. Here we go. He’d been damn near stable the past few days, but surely this will set him off.

You close your eyes, unable to watch the unfolding of your doom. This is it. He’s going to lock you up forever. You’ll never see the light of day again. The trembling in your frame kicks up to ten, and you hug yourself just to have something to hold on to.

When his next question comes, he could push you over with a feather.

“What does she say?”

You shake your head, realizing your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Nothing. She just…offers me the flower.” Going for broke you add, “She looks so sad.”

It is the sound of tearing paper that opens your eyes; with horror you find John making confetti of your art nouveau sketch that took hours to do. However, any protest dies on your lips—if destroying the drawing appeases him, maybe he won’t take it out on you.

Without another word, just a hard look, he stalks from the room.

Only when the sound of his footsteps fade down the hall do you let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, your knees quivering like leaves in a storm.

However, you are not foolish enough to believe you’re in the clear just yet.

-Later, there is no dinner. You find the kitchen cold and empty. Not sure what to make of this, you graze in the fridge, before returning to your bedroom. Not sure where John has gotten off to, you shower, then go to bed, finding yourself lying awake in the dark without him beside you, almost itchy without his steady presence in the evening at your side.

Part of it might be that you fear something is brewing, and you can’t stand the waiting…but part of it might simply be that you miss him, as fucked up as that is.

In the end, against your better judgement, you go looking.

You search the house, until the only room that is left is the garage. Silently you open the door, slipping through without a sound. You too are learning how to move quiet as a wraith. The smell of rubber and oil assaults your nostrils. Classic rock is playing low on the radio. In the far bay, the hood of the Mustang is open, and John is bent over inside, wrenching on something and muttering to himself. There is a partially empty bottle of Blanton’s Bourbon on the workbench behind him, and an empty glass.

Unable to stop yourself from committing what perhaps might prove to be suicide, you creep to the other side of the Land Rover, using it as cover as you eavesdrop on this man grumbling to the ghost of his deceased wife.  

“What do you want from me? I loved you. I loved you with every fucking fiber of my being, but you left me. I died with you the day you left me, and she is the only thing that makes me feel alive again. I need her, and she never would have come to me on her own. She never would have stayed. She never would have stayed.”

He says this to himself over and over, and it wrenches your heart, because you know it isn’t true.

You think you manage to creep back out again without him noticing, Led Zeppelin on the radio disguising the sound of the door.

When at last he comes to bed and wraps you in his arms, holding you too hard for comfort, you feign sleep, smelling the bourbon fumes on his breath. You can’t help but tense, wondering if he will forget his promise this deep in his cups.

But he just sighs into your hair, crushing you as he pulls you even closer, and you don’t know why it breaks your heart all over again.

[genuineformality]

Some SoC Kanej recs for @tlonista because I kept hitting the comment character limit on the post where we were talking about this and am now just putting them into a single place. (This also would have gone faster if I hadn't stopped to read every time I grabbed a link out of my bookmarks and lost the comment on the small internet.)

Incredible Prose, set in more or less canonverse:

a tall ship, and a star to steer her by, by @whatanybodygets (whitherward on ao3): Gorgeous prose and complicated emotions. Inej goes to sea and it's everything she wants and nothing like she expects.

roomy, and drenched in sunlight, also by @whatanybodygets. Inej and Kaz have a baby, but this isn't your niece's babyfic. Complicated, ugly, beautiful, these two fucking morons cannot talk to each other to save their lives.

Stories About Crows, by @marycontraire: A series that is by turns fun, touching, silly, heartbreaking, and realistic. Mary understands the importance of water rights and has a brilliant mind for looking at the shit that Leigh Bardugo made up and taking it to its logical conclusion. Top notch worldbuilding, fab writing.

Service Work, by @linearao3: LinearA's filthy (affectionate), kinky, and gorgeous series, in which she tricks her readers into caring deeply about her beautifully researched fake linguistics. Come for the porn, stay for the fake linguistics and gorgeous prose.

Alternate Universes: I don't know why I find these characters so compelling in AUs, which are not typically my thing, but in looking over my bookmarks, I have a ton of them saved.

save the undone years, by @whatanybodygets (again): Look, just read everything whitherward's written. But this is a WWI battlefield hospital AU and it just hits. It's honestly one of the best things I've read in the fandom.

Murder Ballad and Child Ballad, @linearao3: LinearA's filthy and touching a/b/o series, in which she looked at all of the most interesting parts of a/b/o dynamics, stuck it in the Grishaverse, and world-built like her life depended on it. Want to know what the economics of Ketterdam might look like in between the breeding kink? She's got you covered.

Latte Art, by @pyrrhlc: A coffee shop AU with teeth and one of the few written by someone with barista experience (Kaz spends a shocking, but realistic amount of time doing inventory). The whole series is fun, surprisingly high stakes in places, and one of my favorite modern AUs.

The Four Seasons, by @totchipanda: Slooooooow burn fake dating modern AU done well. Unfinished, but I happen to know that Totchi is still actively working on it. It's by turns a fun romp and an interesting take on modern AUs.

all these hours between us, by CoralAcacia: A college hacker AU, single chapter, but I return to this embarrassingly often. It's well written and nicely poignant in the insane pining.

@capinejghafa is also doing an author rec series here on tumblr where she's making gifs of faves along with posts, and honestly, what a delight that is.

[hxhhasmysoul]

Have you seen this? https://www.tumblr.com/gojosbf/748604451516006400/hey-guys-what-the-fuck-is-this-who-is-voting?source=share

[That is satosugu blog (sorry).]

Just want to say : thanks so much @hxhhasmysoul. You open a new door to me, in shipping Sukuna/Itadori, and it's in the top 5 fav ships above.....As a multishipper, I never consider SukuIta until I found this blog of yours (especially your SukuIta fics recs).

I've read all SukuIta fics from your fics recs list, do you mind if I ask another fics recs? Also, thanks a lot for the Killua/Gon fics recs, really love them.....🤩

Don’t apologise for linking a SatoSugu blog, you don’t have to warn me  XD Thank you for the ask, I will be really mean, so just a fair warning.

Also it’d be pretty obvious that they are a SatoSugu blog even if you hadn’t warned me. What gives them away is that they can’t read, reading comprehension is just rare among the fans of that ship.  

They ask who voted in a ranking made based on the amount of published works on Pixiv XD

It’s even funnier no one in the notes noticed that. 

But these comments are fascinating to me.

So like 3 Gojou x Getou is reasonable but 4 Getou x Gojou is not, so it’s unreasonable for Getou to top? Is that it? 

Same with 7 and 8, it’s even funnier because the preference as to who tops is usually reverse in the western fandom XD

I’m not sure why Yuuta x Toge is not reasonable.. I mean they are the same age, right? 

Well Gojou x Utahime they disapprove on the forced straightness grounds, I mean even if they ship stsg, Getou’s dead, and Gojou could be bi… but whatever icky woman is icky.  

I mean I disapprove of shipping Gojou in general, because I think all Gojou ships are either misogyny or queerphobia, because he’s too awful to force onto other people… The dumb fascist is the only one that can be punished thusly, they are equally awful as people ;)

I guess the ships between Megumi and Toge, or Gojou and Nanami or Ijichi are pedo ships, because Toge is a year older than Megs and Gojou is at least a year older than either of them. Or is Gojou x Ijichi just simple abuse? I’d call it that. Oh, and I checked Nanami x Ijichi and that’s just clearly pedo stuff, Nanami is one year older. (Honestly this ship could be really nice, Ijichi could use a guy who can stand up for himself and actually is thoughtful)

What more can I say… Generally there being just two Sukuna ships is disappointing, people have poor aesthetic taste. No Kenny ship is also sad, especially seeing how popular Toge is and well that guy gets barely any development in the story, he’s kinda boring to me. 

As to Yuuji’s ships. GoYuu falls under Gojou shouldn’t be shipped, period. The ships with Megumi I get. Nanami and Chousou make sense too, even if they’re not my jam. But the ship with Getou… every time I see it, it makes me lose faith in humanity a little. 

___

I’m glad you got into SukuIta. More fics:

Smail just has a lot of stuff and I love most of it.

This is specifically what Smail wrote for me.

Creepy and hot trapped in spaceship smut.

Sweet and sexy Escort AU by Yuujispinkhair.

Monsterfucker Coffee Shop AU smut.

Hot Hockey Player Groupie AU smut.

Sukuna reincarnates as a cat, serves him right.

Art and short fics some very smutty.

This is one of my top 3 fics ever it was supposed to be crack but the author failed and now it's a very long fic with amazing relationship dynamics.

And another gem by the same author where Sukuna gets domesticated.