coffee--writes

[coffee--writes]

When you say 'doestoevsky stan'... which books exactly are you talking about? you could be the greenest flag ever or deranged i'm trying to figure it out

I’ve got to say my favorite Doestoevsky is The Brothers Karamavoz and Notes from the Underground.

I love philosophy and while Dostoevsky’s novels all cover ethical and moralistic philosophy I appreciate what I considered the more straight-forward conversations and excerpts in those novels.

I am finally making my way through Crime and Punishment but it’s mainly to complete the long journey I’ve had (reading his works).

[coffee--writes]

love this. it’s so well-written and I love how your words just blend together so perfectly. It’s giving teen rom-com in the best way possible and i loved this

Only If You Catch Me

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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now

word count: 4.4k

warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!

a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.

“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 

You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 

The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade.You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 

“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 

“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 

Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”

“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.

“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Gorgie?” Fred jested.

“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”

Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.

Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”

You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”

Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He grinned. 

“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 

“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 

Alicia snickered beside you.

Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.

“Made yourselves at home have you?” You said wincing.

Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.

You moved towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough.

You rolled your eyes before setting them back on the boy with freckles. 

“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.

“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 

You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 

“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 

Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 

“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 

Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”

“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 

“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 

Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 

Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.

“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 

You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 

Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 

Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 

You scoffed, pulling out your coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”

“Nope.” Fred said, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”

You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”

Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.

You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 

“Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 

Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”

Fred crossed his arms, nose in the air, “They’re in high demand.”

You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 

“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 

George, who  looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.

“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 

“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”

Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 

Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 

Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 

“Charlie!” He guffawed, “he's been gone for ages!”

“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 

“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 

“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 

Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She chortled between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 

Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.

“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 

Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 

“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 

Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 

“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke with a knowing grin. 

The truth was Fred practically was in love with you. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his cursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally went out and all would be right in his world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, their seventh year was upon them and this may be his last chance before you all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. Frustration was turning him bitter.

That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 

By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 

“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to get you.” 

He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 

You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 

“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 

You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 

“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 

You scowled at Fred not responding. You snatched your broom from the rack, marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 

As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over at Alicia who looked utterly disappointed and was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 

“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  

George chuckled.

Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only taking out boys who are a bit dim.” he spoke, imitating Angelina.

“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia commented, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 

The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 

Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 

The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 

Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left. Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 

He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of the wind in your ears. The bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades and your vision danced as  the air was knocked from your lungs. 

You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet. Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 

He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening snap as his broom snapped in two. 

Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 

“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you up as well, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 

Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 

“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 

“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 

The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 

Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch getting caught in his robes which now wrapped themselves around you. You felt frighteningly warm, cheeks hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 

“Are you okay?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 

As you began to fully realize what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred broom out from under you. 

“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 

Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”

But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 

You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not. It's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  

George did not issue his brother an apology and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”

The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 

You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 

“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.

“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 

Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 

By dinner the story of your fall had been retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 

In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were alright as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 

Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after mere minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 

Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George (who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day) poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes which were already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away rolling your eyes but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 

He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 

Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred really is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 

You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”

You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 

Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 

“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 

“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 

You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “No way hes that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 

  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that you had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 

How had I never noticed before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?

The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 

As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 

As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”

“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 

“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 

His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 

“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 

And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 

Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 

You were satisfied with the answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.

George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 

You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 

Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 

A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.

You knew you should wake him, after all you were the reason he had not retreated to bed. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.

You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 

He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.

You furrowed your brow, “What?” 

“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 

It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 

He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 

“For what?” 

“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 

You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 

He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 

You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 

“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 

“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 

You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you even closer until you were practically on top of him.

One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more in your mouth.

“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 

Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 

“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 

You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips were swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.

You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 

He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 

This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.

You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 

Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 

 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.

“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 

You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 

“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added 

“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.

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taglist: @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-dood13 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @sarcasticallywitty @rosieweasley @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys @evyiione

m.list

[coffee--writes]

leaving this here with no extra context

About Me!

basic info

hi! my name is vivian. you can call me viv though. i am 17 and i go by she/her pronouns.

i write for harry potter, the maze runner, IT, teen wolf, anne with an e, marvel, the umbrella academy, percy jackson, and stranger things. as of right now, i mainly write for the umbrella academy

i am a gemini, entj-t, slytherin, athena kid, etc

likes: gilmore girls, anatomy, english, philosophy, calculus, dostoevsky books, nihilism/existentialism, science fiction, coffee, rock music, any genre of music really, bojack horseman, oliSUNvia

may be taking requests right now? up to whoever sees this to send one in for whatever fandom listed above.

[coffee--writes]

Graceland Too

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Violence, and Drug Use (Not by Reader or Five)

A/N: This is inspired by Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers. The lyrics are italicized!

Summary: Five Hargreeves embarks on a mission with you, a Commission mystery.

Five Hargreeves had not been there when you arrived with scars on your skin and your lips in a thin line. 

Although he hadn’t been there, he had heard all the stories. 

You were a Commission daydream. You were hard as steel. Took orders without a second thought. No one ever broke through that stony exterior of yours, something the two of you had in common. But that didn’t stop the stories from getting around. That day you showed up scarred and cold, you had been running from something. Abusive family, violent parents, constantly cracked up or hungover. No food on the table, barely a warm sheet to cover you at night. You had been in and out of depression. In and out of your mind. 

Then one night, things changed. 

The night you decided you were no longer a danger to yourself or others. 

You made up your mind that night, the night your parents didn’t show. You laced up your shoes, yelled down the hall of your crumbling apartment building. Nobody answered. So you walked outside without an excuse to stay. That night, as you stumbled through city streets, starving, thirsty, bruised, defeated… the Commission saved you. 

You were everything they could’ve wanted. A clean shot of an assassin, a hardened soldier loyal to its infantry. You spoke little. Friends were out of the picture. Another thing, you and him had in common. But one thing was never doubted , that you could do anything you wanted to. One of the highest kill counts, most assignments completed, employee of the year. 

A Commission daydream. 

Your story was infamous. It was one Five Hargreeves resonated with, admired. After all, his family had never been the definition of functional but at least he had had people to call home. Your story ran through his head as he stood outside the Handler’s office listening to your voice, quiet but firm. Your voice never raised and he wondered how you did it. He was indulgent to his anger. It was the driving force behind every kill, every shot. But even as you argued, the Handler’s voice becoming increasingly frustrated, yours never raised, not a decibel. 

The result of the argument over this particular assignment had ended in your favor. Not a shock, you could do whatever you wanted to do. A high-end assignment could easily be won in your favor. What was a shock was you approaching Five, paper in hand. 

“Boss says I’ve got to have a partner for this one.” you state blankly, sliding the paper across the lunch table to him. “How about it, Hargreeves?” 

He blinked, reading the paper, glancing up at you. Another thing Five knew about you, you could go home. The Commission had signed off on it, the works and all. But no, you stayed. Dedicated as ever before. The thought ran through his head, your eyes glared into his. You could go home, but you weren’t going to. 

He didn’t know what prompted him to state a firm, “Sure”. Maybe it was the cold, blank stare in your eyes. Maybe it was the quite beautiful, stoic impression you had. Like the marble of a Greek statue, depicting some tragic tall tale. But whatever it was, it earned him a delicate smile. “Thanks.” you replied, leaving him wondering what on Earth he had gotten himself into. 

—— 

Traveling with you, he learned you weren’t all you were made out to be. 

Sure, the quiet, cold exterior was still there. But upon first glance, he noticed the slight care you put into things. The way you packed two mugs of coffee as opposed to just one. Not a word said but the action said enough. The way you meticulously packed each and every item you brought, making sure to extend the same courtesy to his belongings. 

Small things really, but it said enough. 

So you picked a direction, foot pressing down on the gas pedal of the 1977 Ford F-150 you had chosen out of a random parking lot. You were going 90 in Memphis, turning up the music. An old Van Morrison song, he could recognize the voice. It reminded him of his sister. 

“Why so loud?” he ventured to ask. 

Your eyes never left the road. “So thoughts don’t intrude.” 

He blinked, not sure of what to say. You raised the coffee mug to your lips and he was once again reminded of the one you had brought for him. It raised a curious thought in his head. “Not an easy thing to just not think.” he remarked. 

You glanced at him, almost as though you were taking him in. “I’ve managed.” you said plainly. A moment of silence went by. “Although, I will say Hargreeves you’re making it quite difficult to not think of anything with all your yapping.” 

He chuckled, eyes peeled towards the rising sun. “Well what are you thinking about now that I’ve disturbed your peace of mind.” 

Your lips turned up slightly, almost sadly although it was a smile. “Predictably, I wound up thinking of Elvis.” you chuckle softly. It was the first time he had heard you laugh. It was a nice sound, comforting almost. Somehow reminded him of home. 

“Why Elvis?” he asked, a slight smile coming to his face. 

You took one hand off the wheel, shrugging. “Mom always had it on the few times she was around.” you remarked. He noticed the way your lips curved as you spoke. The one small notation of emotion in your face, the one thing that gave you away. “Plus I wonder if he believes songs could come true.” 

Five’s brows furrow. Your hand drums on the middle compartment of the truck. “Well, he spouts all this bullshit about love. Shit, he made a career off of it. But does the man actually believe in it? Love?” 

“I don’t know.” he commented. “I mean I don’t think you have to believe in something to sing about it. There are thousands of others who wrote about it so I’m sure he had plenty of background to work with.” 

You scoffed. “Well, then that would be plenty sad. I’m usually a cynic but I’d like to believe the man who wrote some of the most notable love songs the world’s known to have believed in it himself.” 

“We’re in a world full of copycats and unoriginal imbeciles. The chances that Elvis believed in love songs is slim.” 

At that you gave a laugh, a full bellied laugh. He looked up quizzically. Your face scrunched up as you did. The marble statue seemed to have melted into a beautiful glaze of colors. Five delighted in it. The fact that he had made your statue slightly crack and crumble. You had done the same to him, if he were being honest. 

“And I thought I was the cynic.” you smirked, cheeks lifting ever so slightly. You sigh, looking at the sunrise with a sense of warmth. A nostalgic pull in your eyes. “All I’m saying is I’m asking for it if they do. Those love songs, I mean.” 

Five nodded briefly, his eyes also glancing out at the sun. 

“Have you ever loved someone like that?” 

“No… have you?” 

“No.” 

The silence lay steady as you went ninety in Memphis. 

—— 

The two of you stopped at a 7-Eleven, dead of night. The bright fluorescent lights blinked as you walked through, taking a grab at the edible things that stuck out to you. When the two of you arrived at the register, your hand moved to your pocket. A ten and a five folded up nicely. There you were again, doing the thing he got such a mental kick out of. He had come prepared but it hadn’t even occurred to you to ask him for money. 

You handed the cash to the man at the register, the same stony expression on your face. 

A beautiful thin line. 

There you were, paying for his things. If it were anyone else, he would’ve rejected this action. He would’ve seen it as a one up, a power dynamic, a petty maneuver. But with you, he realized it seemed to be your nature. There was a gentle nurturing you hid beneath your surface. 

Five desperately wanted to know more. 

You sat at a shitty table, wobbly with faded seats. You bit into a burger, silence hanging in the air almost peacefully as it always seemed to do with you. He looked down at his coffee and bagel. “Why’d you take this?” he asked quietly. “I mean… this assignment.” 

You blinked, eyes vacant and blank. It was as though you were conjuring an answer to that yourself. As if, you still didn’t know the answer to it yourself. He was slowly beginning to realize that maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. 

Your composure slacked, putting down your burger. “Better than nothing.” you responded, taking a sip of coffee. “This is my job. Might as well take the interesting ones.” 

The lights seemed to blink with the slow pace of his heart. He took a bite of his bagel. “What are you going to do… after this is all over?” 

You frown, as though the next thing that you were going to say would make you sad. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

He took a quiet sip of his coffee. “Me neither.” 

The silence lay peacefully thick once more. 

You were a rebel without a clue.

——- 

Traveling with you only made Five more enamored with your presence. 

You were gentle. Quite the opposite of him, actually. Sure, both of you were statues, cracked and slightly damaged, depicting a long life of sorrow. But you had a gentle warmth beneath the surface which Five rejoiced in. 

The truck was filled with music as you went along. Sometimes you talked, other times you didn’t. You were there though. Present, in the moment. You pulled him back to Earth when his head seemed to wander off. You were deep, intellectual, interesting. 

All the little things you did only made him admire you more. The way you quietly filled the gas tank. The way you flipped the pages of your book when he drove. The cadence of your voice, the vocabulary you used. The sad peaceful look on your face after a clean shot, the way your finger rested on the trigger. 

A peaceful kind of falling. 

One night, the two of you stopped at a motel. The night was dark, the stars shining brightly over an Alabama sky. Two beds, a small television that played old reruns of fifties sitcoms. “This is oddly nostalgic.” you commented. “Reminds me of home.” 

It was one of the rare times you talked of home. He smiled softly. “Reminds me of home too… Maybe we can make the most of it.” 

That night, you spent what was left of your serotonin. The motel door lay wide open, the laugh track on the television muffled as you sat on the second floor balcony. Both your backs lay stiff against the brick wall. 

Five looked over at you, and you were gorgeous. 

You chewed on your cheek and stared at the moon. “Hargreeves, I’ve got a confession.” 

He blinked, looking over at you. The moonlight seemed to illuminate your graceful features. “What’s that?’ 

“I know I lived through it, all that pain… I lived through it to get to this moment.”

“This mission?” 

You nodded. “With you.” 

Five paused, his breath seemed to hitch in his throat. You glanced over at him. “I’ve got to say… I kinda like you, Hargreeves.” 

He didn’t know words could mean so much. They were simple, short, barely a sentence. But you had said them and he knew from even the brief conversations with you, that you said what you meant. His lips upturned slightly, not enough to give him away. “I kinda like you too.” 

Silence ensued. Five had a handful of grapes in his hand. You ate a sleeve of saltines on the floor. No proof of anything, not much said. But what was said was enough. In that moment, Five knew: he would do anything you wanted to. 

You didn’t demand much. Maybe that was how people realized they would do anything for someone. Because they wouldn’t demand something irrational for them? Maybe that’s what made the few irrational demands doable? He realized he would do anything for you. 

Whatever you want. 

You looked over at him, a slight smile. “I Love Lucy marathon?” 

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from your face. 

“Whatever you want.”

… 

Whatever you want. 

——

No tags except @olive-recs because i literally don’t know if any of my other mutuals are active 🕺

[coffee--writes]

𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing: Luther Hargreeves x platonic!astronaut!gn!reader

Word Count: 1818

Warnings: none! inspired by elton john’s song rocket-man

A/N: once again, not back but i thought of this and was bored and decided to write it. it probably sucks because i haven’t written in so long.

Tags: @scvrllet and @johnmurphyisqueer (thanks for the inspo, ry <3

Summary: I’m a rocket-man, burning out his fuse up here alone.

Day 62

There was nothing you loved more than stars and the way they stood out against the black void of the universe or the misty colors of the planet you left behind.

But even beauty held sadness. Or perhaps it was the other way around? After sixty-two days of wandering in space you still hadn’t found the answer.

You knew there was a madness to your job. An obsession, a drive, a passion. A few rare people are crazy enough to abandon the comforts of their homes and routine lives, their families, all to explore an ever expanding universe alone. Not many things triumphed over the contentment of home but the unignorable call of curiosity did.

And boy was it calling to you now.

It had been smooth sailing for the past hour, the buzz of the radio Walkie-Talkie dulling your senses. Stars twinkled and you had already sent your daily report to your boss back at the launch site so the only real thing left to conquer was isolation and boredom.

Which is when curiosity tickled your insides.

A smirk came over your face as you rolled over onto your side, slowly turning the knob on your radio. In came the static, a peaceful hum but one that did not satisfy you. You sighed, continuing to turn the knob for a minute or two until you blinked, clear and concise classical music being heard through the buzz. Vivaldi?

“Hello?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion. “Hello?”

The music stopped, the gruff voice of a man coming through the radio. “Hello? Who is this?”

You smiled, staring out into the open void of space at where the source could be coming from. A stupid idea, you knew, seeing as the radio could reach for miles and miles and all you could see was the grey speck of the moon and the small clusters of stars. “This is Y/N L/N. I’m with NASA.”

“NASA?” the man questioned. He didn’t sound all that enthused. “How’d you tune into this frequency? This is a private communication line.”

This man was already ticking you off. He had a rude but slightly curious tone to his voice as though he were trying to cover up his curiosity with an authoritative humph. “I’m an astronaut.” you replied. “I was just searching through the frequencies.”

“Well, this is a private communication line.”

“So you’ve said.”

The man huffed. “So don’t tune in again!”

“Hey, wait!” you called, not sure if the man was still listening. “Look. I’m sorry.” you picked at the cuticles on your fingers. “I’m sorry. I’m alone. I’ve been alone for sixty-two days now up here. I just… got bored.”

It took a minute for a reply to come through as though the man were contemplating on whether or not he should reply. You were about to turn off your line when the voice returned. “I’ve been up here for three years now.”

Your eyes widened, heart plummeting for the man. “Shit- three years?”

“Yeah,” he said sadly. “Like I said, private mission.”

At his words, your eyes wandered around your own spacecraft, it’s clean but empty appearance. You couldn’t imagine being stuck here for years. “Are you on a craft?”

“No, the moon.” he let out a breath of air, something between a laugh and a scoff.

“I haven’t heard of any moon missions that long.” you search your brain as you think. “Are you with Britain? China? Russia?”

“What? No!” he laughed, your questioning tone being the only source of emotion he’d heard in years. It was odd how much emotion it had drawn from him. Such a simple question. It was the longest conversation he had had in a while. “I’m American.” There was another pause. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this to be honest.”

“Maybe you want to.” you offer, blankly and quite literally staring into the view of space out the window. “After all, you’ve been here for three years.”

He chuckles. “Right.”

Surprisingly, you smile. “As much as I’d love to pester you about why you’re up here, I don’t want to tire you out.” Silence. “Can I at least know your name?”

The man sighs. “Luther. Luther Hargreeves.”

What a pleasant name (or perhaps the only new name you’d heard in a while). “Well, goodbye, Luther.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

And all that was left was static, stars, and some sense of hope.

Day 63

Despite its hardships, you still loved your job. You did your duties well, the open universe just a glance out the window. You moved slowly each day, collecting photographs, evidence, observations. Fragments of space to bring home and analyze but it had never been about the science, only your desire to touch the mysteries of the galaxy.

But you found yourself in the same position as before, isolated and alone. Thoughts of your family and friends

At the same time the previous night you found yourself searching the radio channel, listening in for that sweet sound of Vivaldi’s four seasons. It greeted you like a wave of reassurance as you waited for the song to end before tapping in.

“You have such refined taste in music, Hargreeves.”

There was a grumble on the other end although he didn’t sound as angered this time around. “I thought I told you not to tap in here anymore.”

“I do recall that but then again, I’m terrible at listening to directions.”

“I can tell,” he scolded. “Does your boss know you tap in here? I have a good feeling he doesn’t.”

You chuckle at that, knowing Luther wouldn’t be able to reach your boss back on earth. Your eyes settle on the planet, mist clouding the African plates. “It’ll be our secret, Hargreeves. Bet you haven’t kept one of those in a while.”

He gave an airy chuckle. “Never been good with secrets.” An uncomfortable chuckle followed. “Strict father.”

You blinked, forgetting that despite not seeing him, Luther Hargreeves was as much a person as anyone else. Three years wasted without another soul to swap stories with, confide in, trust in.

“I’d suppose that meant you’d have more secrets.” you confess. “Was your mother any nicer?”

Radio silence. “I didn’t really have one. I mean, sort of?” he gave a huff. “It’s all very confusing and a long story.”

You have a soft smile, something he couldn’t see but you hoped he could feel. “I’m all ears.”

And surprisingly, he told you everything. You stared into the dark void, the white lights of your spacecraft being the only source of sight as you listened to Luther’s story like a child listened to a fairytale. The movie of his life enfolded in the black folds of the universe from superpowers to bank robberies. The death of his brother, the tenuous but deep love for his remaining siblings. Ape transformations, nights sneaking out.

You heard it all.

And you were a fantastic listener. You commented on all the right moments, empathized when you thought he had no one (you didn’t realize how true it was), laughed at the jokes that were funny and laughed at the ones that weren’t. Lord, how great it felt to have someone to share the universe with.

It made the stars feel a little warmer.

Luther offered the same courtesy to you. You talked of your mother and your father and of your sister back at home. You explained the dreams of the unknown that you’d had since you were a little kid.

“I’ve always wanted to be here, you know? It’s been my dream since I can remember.”

“I can tell,” he confessed warmly. “Just the tone of your voice gives it away.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Really.” he chuckled. “Your voice speeds up and you sound like you’re getting carried away somewhere far off.”

“Oh.” you mumble, a warm smile overtaking your features. No one had ever described something so simple in such detail. “What was your dream?”

He sighed, your fingers drummed on the cold surface. “I don’t know. I just wanted someone to be proud of me.”

Radio silence.

You weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I’m proud of you, Luther.”

…

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You smiled and gave a small hum. “It’s getting late, Hargreeves. I’ve got to clock out.”

“Me too.” he was quiet. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You were somewhat unable to contain your smile. “Goodnight, Rocket-Man.”

“Rocket-?” you turned off your radio with a chuckle, leaving him to wonder for a while.

Day 66

Your daily tasks had increased in small intervals each day leaving no room to talk to Luther out of pure exhaustion. It left a hollow feeling in your stomach. You knew he was out there somewhere but untouchable due to something as human as sleep.

But luckily, on day sixty-six things began to slow. You completed your tasks with quite a bit of effort but still managed to finish in time to tap into the radio line and be welcomed by a jokingly frustrated Luther.

“What did you mean by rocket-man?” he inquired with a huff.

You laughed as you pictured what his face probably looked like. Scrunched, pout, a dab of frustration. “Relax, Hargreeves. No hello? No, how are you?”

He huffed. “I don’t like being left out of things.”

The frustration in his voice made you smile. “Haven’t you listened to Elton John before?”

“Elton John?”

You gasped. “Luther Hargreeves you haven’t listened to Elton John? I know your father was strict but that’s simply a crime.”

Luther sighed. “If I put this song on it won’t be some joke, will it? It’s not going to tell me I’m a stupid astronaut monkey?”

Once again, your laugh was sent out to the empty void of stars and through the staticky waves of the radio. “Who would write a song about that?”

You guessed he was rolling his eyes for a mocking of your statement followed before a bit of silence and then some piano.

And music spoke more depth than either of you could muster with your lonely hearts and troubled pasts. And in that moment you hoped that the words and the keys would speak to him the way they once spoke to you and that he’d find meaning in them the way you had found it.

“It’s beautiful.”

The corners of your lips rose and you wished more than anything that he could see it. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“It almost feels too special.”

Although he couldn’t see you and even if he was here you doubted the artificial light of the ship would illuminate your face enough to depict your slow shake of your head. You glanced at the stars and the small wisps of colors that were dancing in the blanket of nothingness. “You’re special, Luther. Remember that, okay?”

The static communicated his grin as best it could.

“Rocket-man, huh?”

“Yeah. Rocket-man.”

—

[coffee--writes]

Grand Piano

Pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x gn!Reader

Word Count: 500+ (blurb)

Warnings: None

A/N: heads up… I’m not “back” (i say this now but watch i swear to god) this was sitting in the drafts and i read it and impulsively decided to publish it and… yeah.

Summary: Shaky fingers become steady hands once they dance across the keys of a piano forte.

You and Klaus Hargreeves had one thing in common and that was the slight twitch of your fingers.

Klaus, for one, has always hated his. It was a natural twitch that only got worse after the use of drugs and other mind-altering substances. His father deemed it “pathetic” and an “annoyance” whenever he drummed his fingers against the table at lunch.

Your twitch, however, had managed to become something beautiful when out to good use by your own supportive parents. Klaus was thoroughly enjoying the beauty now as your fingers lightly danced across piano keys in the stormy silence of the academy.

His head sat on your shoulder as you played sweet melodies and occasional sad fortes. A smile lay steadily on your face, eyes melting into the keys. The cloudy skies that awaited at the window merely faded away with the drawn out echoes of the piano.

Klaus knew that the silence in the house meant all his siblings were listening. He’d bet Vanya was hidden behind a column with curiosity raging inside her as she inquired in joining in with her violin. Perhaps Diego would pause in his training and Luther and Allison would stop their secret rendezvous to listen to the quiet player at the stairs.

You brought peace and comfort, something Klaus was eternally grateful for.

When you finished your piece, fixing his hair with a now steady hand and a soft smile. He flushed as you did so. “That was amazing, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” you chuckled, eyes roaming down to his own trembling fingers. You take them in yours, lightly moving them to hover over the keys. Klaus gulped, the proximity of his face to yours nerve-wracking. He could make out the curve of your jaw and the small difference in the hues of each strand of hair. “Can I teach you?”

He nodded softly. “Yeah, sure. By all means.”

You grin, pressing his fingers down on two keys for the chords, guiding his other hand to play the melody. A euphoric sound mused from the instrument causing his heart to flutter in awe, looking down at his own typically twitching fingers that had evoked the sound.

Klaus was starting to understand why you enjoyed playing so much.

The impromptu lesson continued on with your side pressed against his as you played small portions of the song for him to imitate. Klaus’ playback was as expected… quite choppy. The keys didn’t quite sing the same way as you made them but even so the moment was beautiful. The uneven playing made your heart tug as you remembered when you had first discovered the secrets and comforts of piano keys.

And now you were teaching them to Klaus Hargreeves who was slowly growing entranced with his own child-like dance across the forte.

When he finished the piece you taught him, playing it through hesitantly, he gazed at you with wide eyes. “How did I do?”

You grinned, an honest answer leaving your lips. “You did perfect, Klaus.” you pushed a hand through his messy hair. “It was perfect.”

Klaus grinned, his heart skipping twice as he laid his head on your shoulder once more, listening keenly as you picked up another gracefully soft melody to lull him to a peaceful daze with.

—

not tagging anyone because… i really don’t care about that stuff anymore. whoever sees this sees it i guess 😭

[coffee--writes]

A Final Goodbye; Leaving This Account

This has been a long time coming. Let me preface this by saying I am not leaving tumblr; only this account.

Read my annoyingly sentimental and authoresque goodbye under the cut.

This is probably one of the saddest things I've had to do. This account holds so much memory (now deleted as to not clog) but it's time for me to move on.

This departure has always been the plan. I never planned to stick around too long. For one, school has always been a top priority of mine. Soon, next year actually, I'll be a sophomore and back in-person and I am positive I won't be able to manage this account or any writing account at all. So there is one reason.

Also, perhaps you've noticed, my inspo has been non-existent for writing content on this account for a long time. I've been writing a lot, in actuality, but all of it has been on my wattpad (user: coffee--writes).

I didn't want to be an account that just lingers there shitposting after writing so much. I also didn't want to be an account that left without an explanation. So here is me saying goodybe to all 1.4k of you.

Now for the less dramatic part, I am obviously not leaving tumblr. My new account (@coffees-and-creams) will be where I will exist as just a person? No writing, just reblogging, shitposting and interacting with my mutuals.

If you are interested in following it that's awesome. I have followed all my mutuals on that account because I love them so much. I don't know where I'd be without this site and everyone I've met on it. They have gotten me through some of the worst times in my life. Lena, Jen, Amelia, Lizzie. All of them are amazing and deleting all my memories with them was so sad (but necessary for me to fully leave this account).

As stated above, if you are interested in continuing to support my writing all of it will be on wattpad under the username coffee--writes. i will be active and interacting on my new account (@coffees-and-creams). I won't be deleting this account. I'm so proud of everything I've written.

I love you all. I will stick around for a little while longer (till the end of the day) if you guys want to say something? Now I will cry in peace to that sad Hannah Montana song about memories.

Love always,

Viv

[coffee--writes]

A Final Goodbye; Leaving This Account

This has been a long time coming. Let me preface this by saying I am not leaving tumblr; only this account.

Read my annoyingly sentimental and authoresque goodbye under the cut.

This is probably one of the saddest things I've had to do. This account holds so much memory (now deleted as to not clog) but it's time for me to move on.

This departure has always been the plan. I never planned to stick around too long. For one, school has always been a top priority of mine. Soon, next year actually, I'll be a sophomore and back in-person and I am positive I won't be able to manage this account or any writing account at all. So there is one reason.

Also, perhaps you've noticed, my inspo has been non-existent for writing content on this account for a long time. I've been writing a lot, in actuality, but all of it has been on my wattpad (user: coffee--writes).

I didn't want to be an account that just lingers there shitposting after writing so much. I also didn't want to be an account that left without an explanation. So here is me saying goodybe to all 1.4k of you.

Now for the less dramatic part, I am obviously not leaving tumblr. My new account (@coffees-and-creams) will be where I will exist as just a person? No writing, just reblogging, shitposting and interacting with my mutuals.

If you are interested in following it that's awesome. I have followed all my mutuals on that account because I love them so much. I don't know where I'd be without this site and everyone I've met on it. They have gotten me through some of the worst times in my life. Lena, Jen, Amelia, Lizzie. All of them are amazing and deleting all my memories with them was so sad (but necessary for me to fully leave this account).

As stated above, if you are interested in continuing to support my writing all of it will be on wattpad under the username coffee--writes. i will be active and interacting on my new account (@coffees-and-creams). I won't be deleting this account. I'm so proud of everything I've written.

I love you all. I will stick around for a little while longer (till the end of the day) if you guys want to say something? Now I will cry in peace to that sad Hannah Montana song about memories.

Love always,

Viv

[coffee--writes]

Officially signing off :)

ily all

[coffee--writes]

A Final Goodbye; Leaving This Account

This has been a long time coming. Let me preface this by saying I am not leaving tumblr; only this account.

Read my annoyingly sentimental and authoresque goodbye under the cut.

This is probably one of the saddest things I've had to do. This account holds so much memory (now deleted as to not clog) but it's time for me to move on.

This departure has always been the plan. I never planned to stick around too long. For one, school has always been a top priority of mine. Soon, next year actually, I'll be a sophomore and back in-person and I am positive I won't be able to manage this account or any writing account at all. So there is one reason.

Also, perhaps you've noticed, my inspo has been non-existent for writing content on this account for a long time. I've been writing a lot, in actuality, but all of it has been on my wattpad (user: coffee--writes).

I didn't want to be an account that just lingers there shitposting after writing so much. I also didn't want to be an account that left without an explanation. So here is me saying goodybe to all 1.4k of you.

Now for the less dramatic part, I am obviously not leaving tumblr. My new account (@coffees-and-creams) will be where I will exist as just a person? No writing, just reblogging, shitposting and interacting with my mutuals.

If you are interested in following it that's awesome. I have followed all my mutuals on that account because I love them so much. I don't know where I'd be without this site and everyone I've met on it. They have gotten me through some of the worst times in my life. Lena, Jen, Amelia, Lizzie. All of them are amazing and deleting all my memories with them was so sad (but necessary for me to fully leave this account).

As stated above, if you are interested in continuing to support my writing all of it will be on wattpad under the username coffee--writes. i will be active and interacting on my new account (@coffees-and-creams). I won't be deleting this account. I'm so proud of everything I've written.

I love you all. I will stick around for a little while longer (till the end of the day) if you guys want to say something? Now I will cry in peace to that sad Hannah Montana song about memories.

Love always,

Viv

[coffee--writes]

A Final Goodbye; Leaving This Account

This has been a long time coming. Let me preface this by saying I am not leaving tumblr; only this account.

Read my annoyingly sentimental and authoresque goodbye under the cut.

This is probably one of the saddest things I've had to do. This account holds so much memory (now deleted as to not clog) but it's time for me to move on.

This departure has always been the plan. I never planned to stick around too long. For one, school has always been a top priority of mine. Soon, next year actually, I'll be a sophomore and back in-person and I am positive I won't be able to manage this account or any writing account at all. So there is one reason.

Also, perhaps you've noticed, my inspo has been non-existent for writing content on this account for a long time. I've been writing a lot, in actuality, but all of it has been on my wattpad (user: coffee--writes).

I didn't want to be an account that just lingers there shitposting after writing so much. I also didn't want to be an account that left without an explanation. So here is me saying goodybe to all 1.4k of you.

Now for the less dramatic part, I am obviously not leaving tumblr. My new account (@coffees-and-creams) will be where I will exist as just a person? No writing, just reblogging, shitposting and interacting with my mutuals.

If you are interested in following it that's awesome. I have followed all my mutuals on that account because I love them so much. I don't know where I'd be without this site and everyone I've met on it. They have gotten me through some of the worst times in my life. Lena, Jen, Amelia, Lizzie. All of them are amazing and deleting all my memories with them was so sad (but necessary for me to fully leave this account).

As stated above, if you are interested in continuing to support my writing all of it will be on wattpad under the username coffee--writes. i will be active and interacting on my new account (@coffees-and-creams). I won't be deleting this account. I'm so proud of everything I've written.

I love you all. I will stick around for a little while longer (till the end of the day) if you guys want to say something? Now I will cry in peace to that sad Hannah Montana song about memories.

Love always,

Viv

[coffee--writes]

A Final Goodbye; Leaving This Account

This has been a long time coming. Let me preface this by saying I am not leaving tumblr; only this account.

Read my annoyingly sentimental and authoresque goodbye under the cut.

This is probably one of the saddest things I've had to do. This account holds so much memory (now deleted as to not clog) but it's time for me to move on.

This departure has always been the plan. I never planned to stick around too long. For one, school has always been a top priority of mine. Soon, next year actually, I'll be a sophomore and back in-person and I am positive I won't be able to manage this account or any writing account at all. So there is one reason.

Also, perhaps you've noticed, my inspo has been non-existent for writing content on this account for a long time. I've been writing a lot, in actuality, but all of it has been on my wattpad (user: coffee--writes).

I didn't want to be an account that just lingers there shitposting after writing so much. I also didn't want to be an account that left without an explanation. So here is me saying goodybe to all 1.4k of you.

Now for the less dramatic part, I am obviously not leaving tumblr. My new account (@coffees-and-creams) will be where I will exist as just a person? No writing, just reblogging, shitposting and interacting with my mutuals.

If you are interested in following it that's awesome. I have followed all my mutuals on that account because I love them so much. I don't know where I'd be without this site and everyone I've met on it. They have gotten me through some of the worst times in my life. Lena, Jen, Amelia, Lizzie. All of them are amazing and deleting all my memories with them was so sad (but necessary for me to fully leave this account).

As stated above, if you are interested in continuing to support my writing all of it will be on wattpad under the username coffee--writes. i will be active and interacting on my new account (@coffees-and-creams). I won't be deleting this account. I'm so proud of everything I've written.

I love you all. I will stick around for a little while longer (till the end of the day) if you guys want to say something? Now I will cry in peace to that sad Hannah Montana song about memories.

Love always,

Viv

[coffee--writes]

A Final Goodbye; Leaving This Account

This has been a long time coming. Let me preface this by saying I am not leaving tumblr; only this account.

Read my annoyingly sentimental and authoresque goodbye under the cut.

This is probably one of the saddest things I've had to do. This account holds so much memory (now deleted as to not clog) but it's time for me to move on.

This departure has always been the plan. I never planned to stick around too long. For one, school has always been a top priority of mine. Soon, next year actually, I'll be a sophomore and back in-person and I am positive I won't be able to manage this account or any writing account at all. So there is one reason.

Also, perhaps you've noticed, my inspo has been non-existent for writing content on this account for a long time. I've been writing a lot, in actuality, but all of it has been on my wattpad (user: coffee--writes).

I didn't want to be an account that just lingers there shitposting after writing so much. I also didn't want to be an account that left without an explanation. So here is me saying goodybe to all 1.4k of you.

Now for the less dramatic part, I am obviously not leaving tumblr. My new account (@coffees-and-creams) will be where I will exist as just a person? No writing, just reblogging, shitposting and interacting with my mutuals.

If you are interested in following it that's awesome. I have followed all my mutuals on that account because I love them so much. I don't know where I'd be without this site and everyone I've met on it. They have gotten me through some of the worst times in my life. Lena, Jen, Amelia, Lizzie. All of them are amazing and deleting all my memories with them was so sad (but necessary for me to fully leave this account).

As stated above, if you are interested in continuing to support my writing all of it will be on wattpad under the username coffee--writes. i will be active and interacting on my new account (@coffees-and-creams). I won't be deleting this account. I'm so proud of everything I've written.

I love you all. I will stick around for a little while longer (till the end of the day) if you guys want to say something? Now I will cry in peace to that sad Hannah Montana song about memories.

Love always,

Viv

[coffee--writes]

Flower Boy

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None? Flower Shop AU (i always say my writing is shit so this is just a regular thing at this point) Combined it with the poem I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

Requested: By @with-love-anu

Summary: I am a seedling. You are the sun. My love for you blossomed into hills of roses, violets and chrysanthemums.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Regulus Black bought flowers for his neighbor every Tuesday when she came home from school.

It was a secret he kept between him and the six year old girl from next door.

She was a cute child, bright eyes and big heart. Her parents did not come home till dinner and although they had not asked him, he kept a close eye on her. With this small job he observed certain things that never ceased to make him smile. The girl had a missing tooth and her favorite color was pink like the color of her backpack. She preferred dresses to skirts and liked to paint in small notebooks at the small playground down the street from his flat. More distinctly she was an avid lover of flowers, her favorite being violets because she was named after them.

So every Tuesday Regulus Black would bring Violet flowers. Nothing special, a bouquet from the grocery store that smelled like the generic flower spray they put on all the flowers. Violet would thank him and he’d watch as her parents arrived home and she’d smile and his heart would fall because he had no one he was waiting for to come home.

Violet was the only person he bought flowers for and he wasn’t sure if that saddened him or made him happier each day.

One day, the day before Violet’s birthday, he decided that she deserved the small purple hued flowers she loved so dearly but he knew that he wouldn’t find it at the store. So he inquired from the grocer where he could find a bouquet of violets and he replied with a name that stuck in his mind all morning.

“Le jardin d’argent.” He had replied. “The Silver Garden. One of the most magical places in London.”

Regulus had made his way down to the location, a quiet corner decorated brightly with flowers, vines, and leaves. And then his eyes fell on you and the corner of his lips turned upwards.

You stood over an array of blossoming flowers, sunhat on your head, watering can tucked in your hand. You smiled as you worked and when your eyes turned to his they were as bright as his neighbor’s daffodils.

You waved him over and sheepishly he came. “Hello, there-”

“Mr. Black.” he cut quickly, cheeks flaring pink at his quickness. “Regulus Black.”

“Well, Regulus, lovely to meet you.” you grinned, beautifully, if he may add. “What can I help you with today.”

“I… I need to buy some violets.”

Your eyes enlarged and a curious expression overtook your features. “That’s awfully specific. I’m glad you came to me.”

He nodded, following you inside. The air smelled of soil and earth, a scent he didn’t think he’d enjoy. Flowers blossomed from each and every corner and soft trickling water could be heard lightly leaving him with a euphoric feeling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes trailed you as you stepped into a small back area, returning with a pot of fully-grown violets.

Your fingers delicately traced the petals and Regulus couldn’t stop himself from watching. “These are African violets. Not the easiest to care for but simple enough once explained. You’ll want to keep them lightly moist and in warmer temperatures. Don’t transfer between pots until some of the leaves start to wilt, rooting is important with these flowers.”

He listened wholeheartedly as you explained the procedures with the utmost depth and care, eyes lighting up and fingers stroking the stem, petals and dirt. When you realized you were rambling your cheeks began to warm. “Sorry.” you mutter. “I get a bit carried away.”

“It’s fine.” Regulus replied. “I’d like to hear more about them. That is… if you’d like to share them with me.”

He was dumbstruck by his own bravery. A startled expression settled on your face. “I’d love to.”

Regulus scolded himself for his stupidity. He didn’t have a place. You can’t go on a date without a place in mind. Luckily, you pointed out the window to the shop across the street. “That’s a coffee shop over there. It’s pretty good.”

Regulus grinned. “Would you mind Saturday at noon?”

“Sure.” you answered quickly. You handed him the violets, fingers brushing against his for only a moment. “That’ll be ten pounds.” He reached into his pocket, exchanging the money with a shy smile before slipping out the door, the bell ringing in reminder of his date tomorrow.

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

You were beautiful in more ways than one.

The coffee date had gone well. So well, that now you had driven him to the lake. He had brought a stereo and old static plagued songs hummed over the radio. You smiled and wore a flowy white dress and leaves fluttered down on you.

All his life he’d been without consistent love or attention but now you were showering him with your own. Your light talk and over-joyous smile was all he needed to see to start on the spiral to slowly falling.

“Why did you come get flowers?” you asked curiously. “Who were they for?”

He flushed. “I have a six-year old named Violet as my neighbor… so the violets…”

“They were for her.” you finished with a sigh. “That’s so sweet, Regulus.”

He shook his head. “Some people make it easy.”

You smiled. “Wise words from someone as young as us.”

“As much as people love to play that wisdom comes with age, I am a firm believer that wisdom comes from experience and someone can experience a lot in a mere nineteen years of life.”

You chuckle, putting your head on his shoulder which caused his heart to drop. “See, wise words.”

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Your light and brightness would continue to run through the course of his life. It would flow through his veins as you became more connected to him. Lovers now, though the romance was newly afresh.

Regulus had never felt so loved. Loneliness seemed to fade as you awoke in his bed the next morning wrapped in sheets of cotton.

His arms were wrapped around you, rays of golden sun were shining through the partly open window. His lips pressed against your neck causing you to softly sigh. “What do you want to do this morning?” he murmured.

You giggled. “Nothing.”

“I’m fine with that.” he laughed, pulling you closer to him.

Outside, laughter filled the air as his neighbor played outside. Violet, the force that had gotten the two of you together. The both of you smiled. “That reminds me of when I was a girl. I liked to sing as I played though.”

“What would you sing?” he asked.

You grinned. “Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling, Clementine.”

Regulus listened to you sing, your voice echoing sweet melodies in his head and peacefully luring him to a state between sleep and consciousness.

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

Le Jardin D’Argent gained one more regular customer in the form of Regulus Black who would stop by as his girlfriend worked. He’d watch as she danced around the flower shop, watering blossoms and digging in dirt.

And after each and every shift you had, he would buy you flowers. He’d approach the registry with a smirk and a hand full of pounds.

“I’m inquiring on buying some daffodils?” he grinned.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Who’re they for?”

He smirked. “I’d much rather not say.”

You’d smile and once the money was exchanged he’d bashfully hold out the bouquet to you which you took with a grin and a kiss to his cheek.

You were so lucky to have him.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

Every moment Regulus spent with you was a moment of joy, of life and filled with love to each of its creeping corners. You were brighter than the stars the two of you gazed on each night. You smiled wider than a man with an orange slice between his lips.

Spring was coming towards its end and summer was beginning to fade inwards. His love for you never did seem to fade instead growing like the plants you cared for so gently. He was the seedling, your love was the water and love bloomed beautifully, gracing the world with color.

Now you were teaching him to garden and he learned diligently by your hand.

“Reg, hand me the watering can?”

He did as you asked, watching as the water spilled from the small openings. “These are the morning glories, aren’t they?”

“Yup.” you responded. “They need to be kept evenly moist in order for them to root themselves quicker.”

Your house was much larger than his and frankly more beautiful. A garden thrived in the backyard portion and Regulus had even set up a small arrangement of flowers that he had begun to sprout, a new addition to your garden and they grew alongside yours in a way that brought him happiness, weirdly enough.

“I love your garden. It always feels like home.” he commented.

“Our garden.” you intervened.

He smiled.

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

Comfort was a gift Regulus Black had rarely known.

Yes, he was rich and yes, he grew up rich. However, as painstakingly simple as it was, no amount of money could buy love or affection, something his mother and father had lacked.

However, you slowly introduced him to the idea that not everybody was cold or shed away from touch. One of Regulus’s favorite things that you did was watch the sunset, backs against the warm grass in your backyard. It was enough to harbor small bits of affection but not enough to make him uncomfortable.

“Do you know what the Greeks thought about the sun setting?”

You looked at him curiously. “What did they think?”

He took your hand, guiding it with the arc of the sunset. The feeling caused both of you to flush. “When the Titans were in power, they believed that Helios was the titan of the sun and Selene was the titan of the moon. They controlled the functions of the sun and the moon, sunset and sunrise. When the titans reign was over, Apollo and his twin sister Artemis were then left to rule over the sun and the moon.”

“That’d be fun to control the moon.”

He nodded, turning to face you in the grass. “We can be them. Although, personally, I think you’re more of a sun person than a moon person.”

You grinned, pecking him once on the lips. “I agree. Regulus, the god of the moon.”

“Y/N, goddess of the sun.”

The sun set before them, the line between sun and moon thinning, the ability to see both a beautiful sight to behold.

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

Even when he was down or perhaps he had found his thoughts were folding in on themselves, you’d press light kisses against his skin and all those thoughts would go away. They’d sink back into a place where they’d be undisturbed.

You’d fill his heart and mind with happy thoughts and simple things that forced all unsettling things that may lurk in the corners of his mind. You’d read sweet stories or even better, sing him soft lullabies from those times you were a kid.

“Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling.”

By now he knew all the words to the simple tune and he’d murmur them along with you.

“Oh, my darling, Clementine. Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling. Oh, my darling, Clementine.”

Love was kind.

He was beginning to realize that.

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

What more could he say? Every week he continued bringing flowers to Violet and now she would wave hello to you as you watched her childish grin with a smile.

His flowers soon grew right beside yours. He would soon get a key to the front door and would know all your neighbors names by heart. Regulus would visit your flower shop everyday and flowers would soon be all around the house and he’d know the difference between annuals and perennials.

Life was perfect.

You had made it perfect.

Regulus stood above the flower shop, a paintbrush in his mouth as he stared at the freshly painted sign above the shop. You stood below him, gripping the base of the latter. “I think it looks good, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” he replied, stepping down the latter and placing a kiss to your cheek. “It does.”

In his neat cursive, read the letters. Le Jardin Du Noir.

The Garden of Black.

The two of you smiled up at the sign, greeting the daily five thirty customer with a laugh.

---

Let me know what you thought? Send an ask to be added to my taglist :)

Forever Friends: @coperative @awritingtree @officiallydarkgeek @exhsle @elenapatricia99 @readzwith-xol @a-candle-maker @angelxnaa @datrie @temporaryissue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @magicalxdaydream

Harry Potter Taglist: @amrtxntia @seggsyvampire @lxncelot @theravenclawgal @iamninaanna @onyourgoddamnleft @irlpadfoot @chaotic-fae-queen @swanimagines @lunalovegoodisgay @whyisallthecoolstufftaken @inglourious-imagines @amourtentiaa

[coffee--writes]

Happy Earth Day motherfuckers. Here’s a list of resources involving issues with the environment that you should be aware of!

CARBON FOOTPRINT

The 35 Easiest Ways to Reduce Your Carbon Footprint

25+ Tips to Reduce Your Carbon Footprint

MARINE ECOSYSTEMS VS. CLIMATE CHANGE

What Is Overfishing? - WWF

Cause, Effects and Solutions to Overfishing

Coastal and Marine Ecosystems and Global Warming

3 Ways Climate Change Is Harming Marine Species- THE EPA

Climate Adaptation and Estuaries

Shark Finning

Shark Finning: Facts

DEFORESTATION

National Geographic: Deforestation

Deforestation and Forest Degradation Threats

The Amazon and Deforestation

WEATHER VS CLIMATE CHANGE

Hurricanes and Climate Change

NASA- Climate Change and Forest Fires

Wildfires and Climate Change

THE ARCTIC AND CLIMATE CHANGE

Climate Change and the Arctic

Climate Change in the Arctic

FRACKING

Fracking 101

Unconventional Oil and Natural Gas Development

CLEAN ENERGY

Clean Energy: Department of Energy

Renewable Energy Sources

SACE

THE MEAT INDUSTRY

The Problem With Eating Beef That No One Is Talking About

Meat and the Environment

7 Reasons Why Meat is Bad for the Environment

10 Reasons Why It’s Green To Go Vegetarian

Veganism and the Environment

NATIVE AMERICANS AND CLIMATE CHANGE

How Native Tribes Are Taking the Lead on Planning for Climate Change

Climate Change and Health: A Native American Perspective

ANIMAL TESTING

These Beauty Brands Are Still Tested On Animals

Common Household Products Tested On Animals

Be Cruelty- Free Campaign

COMBAT CLIMATE CHANGE

UN Climate Action

11 Policy Ideas to Protect the Planet

101 Ways to Fight Climate Change

Vox- Climate Charities

NYT- Climate Change and Environmental Charities

Environmental Petitions

This only a small list of a handful of concerning topics! Will be adding more links soon. feel free to reblog and add your own :)

[coffee--writes]

ANTHONY MACKIE & SAM WILSON SUPREMACY BITCHES

[coffee--writes]

Daphne Greengrass; A Playlist

Requested: by an anon!

Genre: Soft Guitar, Folksie, Indie

Quick Summary: This playlist is based on what I think Daphne Greengrass would put on a playlist. This isn't a playlist to describe Daphne or create a story necessarily. It's more just vibes. Please enjoy.

In A Week by Hozier feat. Karen Cowley

Vienna by Billy Joel

Best That I Can by Vance Joy

Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Don't Know Why by Norah Jones

The Only Exception by Paramore

Jolene by Dolly Parton

Cool Girl by Dodie

Cherry by Harry Styles

Space Song by Beach House

Moon Song by Phoebe Bridgers

Pink Moon by Nick Drake

Ashlyn by Ryan Pollie

How I'm Feeling by Ryan Woods

The Sun Won't Shine On Me by Teenage Fanclub

Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead

Cello Suite No. 1 by Johann Sebastian Bach

Deux Arabesque: Covered By Zoltan Kocsis; composed by Claude Debussy

Acoustic #3 by The Goo Goo Dolls

No taglist because I don't want to bother people with this lmao.