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firefly-ace · 2 days ago

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single mom reader is a guilty pleasure when the baby fever hits

Blooming, — florist!ellie x singlemom!reader.

౨ৎ warnings: none. shitty ahh fic i found in my drafts. anywhore. NO SMUT yay. no use of y/n. 1.5k words. barely. and not proofread??? i think? idk this thing is old

ellie learns what your favorite flowers are before she knows your name. you come into the shop occasionally, baby girl on your hip, sleep still clinging to both your eyes, always muttering an apology for bumping into the same metal bucket of sunflowers she insists on keeping way too close to the door. the same corner display she swears she’ll move one day but never actually does. so it’s her fault, really.

one morning, you’re short a dollar and fumble around in your coat pocket like it’ll magically appear, but the redhead waves it off with a flick of her hand, already moving to wrap your stems in brown paper. you look like you might argue, but instead, you smile at her like she’s just offered you a solution to all your problems. the next day, you bring her a blueberry muffin, slightly flattened in a stained napkin, with a crooked grin and a mumbled apology for the burnt edges. she eats it behind the counter while trimming roses, the corners of her mouth twitching up when she thinks of the way you shyly pushed it toward her like it was contraband or cursed. her coworker teases her for grinning like an idiot the whole day, best part is she doesn’t even try to deny it.

eventually, ellie finds out you’re a single mom, around her age too. you’d been a regular for nearly a year at that point. at first you were always polite but rarely staying long enough to give more than your first name and a laugh. still, she noticed every little thing. how you always gravitate toward peonies even when they’re out of season. how your kid babbles to herself made-up songs while you browse. how you text her now. late at night, mostly—when your daughter’s asleep, conversations that stretch into the early hours sometimes. mostly about dumb shit. sometimes deeper things you try to make sound lighter than they actually are.

you talk a lot. and somewhere along the way, without really meaning to, ellie starts planning how she’d ask you out.

but she never quite gets there.

she’s got a whole clumsy monologue worked out in her head, something sarcastic but still kinda earnest, the way she gets when she’s nervous. but she chickens out every time you walk through the door. she tells herself that maybe you’re just kind and not into her, that she’ll say it the next time, if time feels right.

when the right time finally comes, it starts with a sneeze.

not hers. yours.

ellie looks up from behind the counter just in time to see you push through the door, stumbling in with your hood half-off, your baby zipped into a bright green frog raincoat. her cheeks are flushed with excitement, boots squeaking against the tile as she beams up at ellie, proud of the muddy footprints she’s tracking in behind her, little arms outstretched, presenting her messy making. the bell above the door jingles overhead, and for a moment, the whole shop smells like rain, baby shampoo, and something faintly floral that ellie can’t quite name, but she’s come to recognize as you. you, on the other hand, are soaked to the bone, shivering and sniffling like you’ve just crawled out from the bottom of the ocean.

��you okay?”

“i’m great,” you sniff dramatically, “i swear i wasn’t aiming for the sunflowers this time.”

ellie laughs as she walks over to the door, where the bucket of sunflowers has tipped over again, a small puddle blooming beneath it. three stems dangle over the edge, looking more sad than hurt. your daughter stands proudly beside it, gripping her waterlogged teddy bear with both hands, eyes wide and innocent.

she lets out an airy sigh, dragging the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing a faint streak of soil across her brow. “you have, like, a gift for wrecking my most expensive flowers.”

you smile like it’s a compliment. “what can i say? we’re clumsy, but we tip well.”

ellie mutters something under her breath about childproofing the front display next week, and crouches down to gather the spilled stems. she glances up at your daughter. “hey, little menace. you gonna pay for these in pennies again?”

your daughter nods seriously, pigtails bouncing. “five cents.” proudly holding up four fingers instead.

ellie chuckles, leaning in to gently lift your kid’s thumb. “there we go—that’s a five.” she gently pokes her in the side, earning a burst of giggles from the little girl. “i’ll put it on your tab, then” she adds a wink at the end, sending your kid into a fit of shy giggles and flushed cheeks.

sigh. like mother, like daughter.

you’re still dripping wet, hoodie clinging to your arms, jeans soaked up to your calves. your hair’s sticking to your cheeks in damp strands, eyelashes spiked with water. ellie sees all of it, but immediately drops her gaze and pretends to focus on rearranging a few petals that don’t need fixing.

“you look like hell,” she says plainly, turning to grab a towel from beneath the register and tossing it across the counter toward you.

“i feel like hell,” you quip, blotting at your face with the towel. “but thanks, that’s really uplifting.”

she shrugs, “just bein’ honest.”

you lean on the counter, your daughter stands right beside you, reaching for the pothos trailing along the window ledge. your eyes drift lazily over the shelves lined with mismatched vases, chalkboard labels smudged with fingerprints before returning to her face.

“busy today?”

“nah,” ellie replies, shifting a half-made bouquet to the side. “funeral rush died down.” she pauses, then winces. “no pun intended.”

you huff out a laugh. “you’re so weird.”

your kid lets out a high-pitched giggle, distracted by the way the wind chimes sway near the open vent.

“careful with that, little dude,” ellie says, nodding toward the pothos. “that one’s got commitment issues. falls apart if you look at it wrong.”

you snort. “same.”

ellie glances up at you again, more subtle this time, catching the way your cheeks have gone a little pink. maybe from the cold. maybe not. she watches you dab your nose with a tissue, watches the way your fingers tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“i was actually gonna bring you something,” you say suddenly, like you just remembered, even though you had lowkey made it all this way just to give it to her, spending the night up making it for her.

you dig around in your bag and pull out a wrinkled paper bag. you hand it over, grinning. “it’s banana bread. sort of. i mean, it’s mostly bread. some banana.”

ellie takes it carefully, her eyes studying the sweet goods, “no way. you baked this?”

“well,” you chuckle, “i tried. my oven’s crooked. but the top isn’t burnt this time.”

green eyes flick between the foil-wrapped bundle and your face, caught off guard. “...why?”

“because you gave me that tiny cactus for free last week and said it ‘looked like me’—whatever that means.”

ellie snorts, lifting the foil and giving the bread a cautious sniff, then she scratches the back of her neck. “thanks. i’ll, uh… eat this during my very luxurious lunch break. in the back. with the spiders.”

“sounds romantic.”

there’s a pause before she leans her elbows on the counter, opens her mouth, ready to drop the bomb.

“you, uh.” she clears her throat awkwardly, her eyes skittering away from you like they’re afraid of catching rejection in yours. “you doing anything later?”

“why?”

“i made soup. real soup. like, with vegetables and effort and shit.”

you raise a brow, a lopsided smirk pulling at your mouth, “are you asking me and my daughter to dinner, or are you just trying to unload too much soup?”

“can be both.”

“what kind of soup?”

“carrot and ginger.”

you grimace, “that sounds awful.”

“it’s not,” she defends. “dina gave me the recipe. swears it’s, like, anti-inflammatory or whatever.”

“so you’re trying to heal me?”

ellie shrugs, half-grinning. “i’m trying to keep you from dying. you looked like you were coughing up a lung yesterday.”

you laugh again and rub the back of your neck like you don’t want her to catch you smiling. “fine,” you mumble. “i’ll think about it.”

“pretty sure this counts as a verbal contract.”

“i don’t think that’s how verbal contracts work.”

“don’t care. already made soup.” (she did not.)

your daughter tugs on your sleeve, babbling something incoherent that don’t quite reach the redhead’s ears. you bend down to listen, then give her a nod. “she says we should go before she pees her pants.”

ellie straightens with a snort. “that’s... yeah. can’t argue with that.”

you pick her up and start backing toward the door, your eyes lingering on the greenery around you like you don’t really want to leave. your daughter waves wildly at the girl behind the counter, while ellie simply watches you go with a dumb smile plastered on her face.

at the door, you pause, twisting back over your shoulder. “hey.”

“yeah?”

“i’ll come by.”

ellie nods, trying hard to hide the smile tugging at her pillowy lips, and failing miserably like a fucking loser. “cool.” except that she’s everything but cool about it.

you smile before disappearing into the drizzle, the shop bell jingling faintly. she watches through the window as you walk toward your car, her greens lingering a moment too long, the banana bread still sitting awkwardly in her hands.

she glances down at it, and sighs. “fuck me.” cause now she actually has to make soup.

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firefly-ace · 2 days ago

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EXACTLY IVE BEEN SAYING TS

i feel like a lot less people would be insecure if they just took anatomy

#there’s a dip in the BOONNNNEEEE #A thigh gap depends on your BONE STRUCTURE

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firefly-ace · 3 days ago

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ellie literally wrote in her diary that she felt guilty when she didn’t think of joel for five minutes and that’s why the entire theatre sequence just doesn’t work for me. that kid is traumatised and guilty for all the time wasted, for those conversations left unspoken. there’s already this insane time jump after joel’s death and you want me to believe that after witnessing his gruesome death, ellie is chirpy and excited about dina being pregnant. that entire sequence looked like a badly written comedy. ellie calls dina a burden because she’s put into a morally difficult situation. it’s not okay and you are allowed to be pissed at her. you are allowed to dislike ellie’s actions—but you know what they stem from. the show’s too afraid to make their own characters unlikable and it hurt the story as a whole.

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firefly-ace · 3 days ago

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making not hockey ellie hc because i do what i want

#ace!yap

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firefly-ace · 5 days ago

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THIS IS SO GOOFY CUTIE I LOAF

YOU HAVE 4 MESSAGES FROM : vi x f!reader vi is typing . . . lang. , enemies -> lovers if you squint REPLY NOW ? . . . “ howdy neighbor ”

LEIGH REPLIED TO YOUR MESSAGE : absolutely freaked out at 4am (hello from now 10 am……) freak bitch (vi) is backkkk get her out of here before i pounce stupid lesbian

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firefly-ace · 7 days ago

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opinions on ellabs?

— ⟢ why i really don’t like ellabs!

(and an analysis on why they don’t work)

i honestly have debated talking about this for a long time because i think my opinion on this is less popular! i understand why people may like ellabs because of the enemies to lovers trope— and if it’s just a silly crack ship i couldn’t really care less. on a serious level though, they’re an incredibly toxic and abusive pairing. i don’t like ellabs because they make zero sense. ellie and abby have narrative parallels, but they are fundamentally such different people. revenge aside, their personalities clash and they would never work as an actual functioning couple.

TLDR; both Abby and Ellie are complex characters, but their personalities and emotional needs are quite different. These differences, combined with their past conflict, would make it challenging for them to form a romantic relationship based on understanding, trust, and emotional compatibility. And quite honestly Abby deserves better, just like Dina deserves better.

Their relationship would be built on grief, death and betrayal. Why would you want that?

Abby is direct, practical, and thrives in structure and challenge. Ellie is passive aggressive, emotionally erratic, and often unpredictable. Abby would likely find Ellie annoying, her defensiveness immature, and self-indulgent. On a daily basis, Abby would constantly feel like she’s parenting someone instead of building an equal partnership.

Ellie is incredibly emotionally impulsive—she acts before thinking, escalates conflict quickly, and often says things she doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment. Abby, on the other hand, tends to bottle things up, internalize pain, and power through. Abby’s emotional walls are built as a defense mechanism to protect herself from the pain of her past. She has a tendency to shut down emotionally in difficult situations. Ellie has a tendency to lash out when hurt or vulnerable. It would create a constant push-pull: Ellie would provoke arguments for emotional release, while Abby would shut down or walk away to avoid escalation. Abby would find her exhausting and extremely immature.

Ellie has a strong need to assert control—constantly putting her own emotions and goals above others’ well-being (as we see on the farm and in Santa Barbara). Abby consistently shows she can put others first—whether it’s protecting Lev or even choosing to let Ellie live. Abby would grow resentful of Ellie’s tunnel vision (cough, selfishness) and her tendency to prioritize her own pain over the collective while being unable to take accountability. Ellie’s behavior often crosses emotional or physical boundaries without consideration—especially when she’s in pain. Abby, despite being blunt and intense, actually respects personal space and emotional limits. She’s careful with Lev, for example, and doesn’t force intimacy. Ellie, however, pushes and provokes—even when others ask her not to. This would be a huge red flag for Abby, who values agency and mutual respect.

Abby, for all her flaws, takes real steps toward self-awareness and growth. She faces the consequences of her actions, cares for Lev, and genuinely tries to become a better person. Ellie, in contrast, spends most of Part II spiraling deeper into revenge and guilt, resisting growth until the very end—and even then, it’s very ambiguous. Abby would have little patience for someone who refuses to take ownership of their choices or refuses to heal. Ellie’s sense of morality is messy and reactive. She shifts between extremes—justice, vengeance, guilt—without consistency. Abby, while not innocent, has a more pragmatic moral compass. She draws clearer lines around what’s worth fighting for. Abby would probably see Ellie’s emotional decision-making and black-and-white thinking as juvenile and dangerous.

Abby operates from a deeply rooted sense of responsibility. Once she cares about someone, she’ll do anything to protect them. She’s physically and emotionally present. She stays calm under pressure, leads in a crisis, and has a grounded sense of realism. Ellie, on the other hand, is fiercely stubborn—often to the point of self destruction. Her moral compass becomes self righteous, especially when she’s in pain. She clings to her sense of being right even when it hurts others or herself. Abby would find this infuriating—because for Abby, loyalty and action matter more than being right. That core disconnect would lead to constant friction.

Abby’s strength is physical, grounded, and centered in action. She survives by being capable, focused, and in control. Ellie, meanwhile, leans into emotional turmoil and inner conflict—but often in destructive ways. Abby would find this brand of suffering frustrating and unnecessary. She’s someone who faces problems head-on, while Ellie tends to ruminate, withdraw, or explode. Abby tends to be direct, realistic and sometimes blunt, while Ellie is more mouthy and often uses humor as a defense mechanism. That might lead to frequent misunderstandings, especially when emotions are high or tensions arise. Abby’s straightforwardness could clash with Ellie’s more nuanced/emotional way of communicating.

Both Abby and Ellie are strong willed and independent individuals, but they value their independence in different ways. Abby is used to relying on herself and often prefers to handle things on her own. Ellie, while capable, has a deep desire for connection and intimacy, often seeking out relationships to fill the emotional void left by her losses. Abby might struggle with Ellie’s need for emotional closeness, while Ellie might feel abandoned by Abby’s need for space. Abby tends to internalize her emotions and struggles to express vulnerability, often keeping her feelings to herself, whereas Ellie is very emotionally driven and reactive. Abby might not know how to handle or reciprocate such intensity. Abby’s more reserved and realistic nature would clash with Ellie’s emotional depth and tendency to act on her feelings. Abby and Ellie have very different worldviews, shaped by their experiences. Abby is driven by a sense of responsibility and duty, shaped by her military background and the loss of her father. She tends to focus on survival and practicality. Ellie, on the other hand, is more idealistic and often driven by her own self-serving interests in any given moment. Their differing values and motivations would lead to misunderstandings and conflict when it comes to decision making and how they approach the world.

In crisis, Ellie unravels. She gets caught in loops of guilt, fear, and rage, often becoming emotionally chaotic and reactive. She needs emotional mirroring, verbal reassurance, and vulnerability to feel safe. She craves understanding and expression. Abby, in contrast, goes into survival mode. She compartmentalizes pain to stay functional. She’s someone who triages—what needs to be done right now? Her emotional processing happens after the crisis, if at all. She often doesn’t have the words or the inclination to emotionally unpack something in the moment. She shuts down or quietly fixes things instead of talking about them. So when Ellie spirals and looks to Abby for emotional grounding, Abby would likely respond by doing—fixing, protecting, solving. But Ellie would need words, softness, emotional connection, and when she doesn’t get that, she’d likely interpret Abby’s restraint as coldness or emotional neglect. That disconnect would create a cycle of Ellie feeling invalidated and Abby feeling exhausted, and around and around it would go.

Abby moves forward toward forgiveness, peace, and purpose. Ellie is stuck in guilt, grief, and rumination for most of her arc. Abby actively tries to stop the cycle multiple times by sparing Ellie. Ellie nearly dies trying to continue it. That’s not just a philosophical difference—it’s a fundamental misalignment. Even at their most healed states, they would always be walking in opposite emotional directions. Abby, after everything, is someone seeking stillness, quiet, and a sense of control. She’s tough, but at her core she wants emotional safety. A steady rhythm. A clean break from chaos. Ellie, even if unintentional, often brings emotional turbulence. She stirs things up. Her trauma makes her volatile, restless, and often difficult to anchor. She doesn’t just bring baggage—she lives in it. In this dynamic, Abby would constantly feel like she’s trying to plug a dam that keeps bursting. She’d carry the weight, but slowly crumble under it. And she’d just hold it all inside until she’s emotionally burned out.

They’ve both experienced deep trauma, leading to trust issues. Abby’s trust is hard to earn, and she tends to keep others at arm’s length. Ellie, while initially more open, becomes increasingly distrustful and volatile. Their inability to trust each other would create a barrier to forming a healthy relationship, especially if they continued to view each other through the lens of their past conflicts. Even trying to be with Ellie would drain Abby emotionally and psychologically. Ellie would ask for more emotional connection than Abby has the tools or energy to provide, and Abby would ask for calm, steadiness, and respect for boundaries—things Ellie wouldn’t even realize she was violating. The emotional misalignment is so foundational, it’s not even about forgiveness or reconciliation. It’s about nervous system incompatibility. They’re wired for completely different kinds of love—and survival.

Emotional safety is crucial in a romantic relationship—and neither of them could offer it to the other. Even if they tried to be soft, their history would keep tension just under the surface. Neither would ever be able to relax enough to be truly seen, because they’d always be preparing for the other to snap, leave, judge, or re-open old wounds. Abby would always be bracing for moral judgment, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ellie would always be scanning for signs of betrayal or abandonment—emotional or physical. The dynamic would be one of hypervigilance, not intimacy.

Their mere existence reminds each other of unbearable loss. Abby is the face of Joel’s death, which shattered Ellie’s foundation of safety and love. No matter how much Ellie forgives her, her body would still flinch at Abby’s voice, her silhouette, the way she carries herself. Her trauma is too deeply tied to Abby’s presence. Ellie is the echo of Abby’s guilt and violence. She is the living symbol of the moral cost of Abby’s revenge, and of her failure to fully heal even after “completing” her mission. Ellie nearly killed her and Lev, forcing Abby into a position of absolute powerlessness—which, for someone like Abby, is one of the deepest triggers possible. Those subconscious reactions don’t just go away. Their bodies would stay in fight or flight mode around each other. The nervous system never forgets. There would always be a residual imbalance between them—Abby as the woman who killed Ellie’s father figure, and Ellie as the one who took everything from Abby and Lev and nearly killed them. There’s no truly equal footing possible between them. Even if they tried to move past it, it would hang in the air, distorting every interaction. Their personalities, traumas, nervous systems, and values are wired against each other. Abby needs a calm, grounded partnership. Ellie needs emotional intimacy and deep, personal understanding. They can’t give that to each other. Not without retraumatizing themselves in the process.

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firefly-ace · 8 days ago

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firefly-ace · 8 days ago

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thanks sm for the tag!! @liddy333 @marscardigan @vxserii

sleepover ! pick a jellycat, pj set, blankie and some slippers 💤😴💕

i’ll go first !

big pressure tags (not really)

@slut4megantheestallion @bibi4exe @gardengnosticator @pricesgirl 🫶🏽

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firefly-ace · 8 days ago

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not my usual content, but i would like to make my stance very clear. in times like these, i must use the platform i’ve created here to speak about topics that cannot be ignored.

if you voted for trump, support trump, or look at the situations happening in america/the world as a one off problem that will smooth itself over, you are wrong and very uneducated.

the rich will get richer, the poor will get poorer because of the government in office. that is not fear mongering, that is fact. that is their goal. situations are only getting worse, and if you sit aside in silence, not offering help to those who may need it, and most importantly not USING YOUR VOICE, then you are sitting in a pool of your own delusions. this will affect you whether you believe it will or not. not only will it affect you, but it will harm your friends, your family, your loved ones.

this isn’t just about us, either. the people in gaza still continue to suffer. ukraine is still in the midst of war. the people of congo are in critical condition. all of these things AND MORE are continuing to happen. i understand it’s easy to turn the other cheek, it’s hard to watch happen. but you can’t. all of these issues fall under one category: the wealthy do not care for poor or working class humans. they will do whatever they want as long as it gets them a stack in their pocket. don’t choose to be blind to that fact. this is no longer “republican vs. democrat”, this is a matter of basic human rights.

i may sound harsh, but these are harsh times. we don’t have the privilege to sit in contempt. i know that this app is a break for a lot of us; a way to reset and relax. but, we can treat it as such while also being realistic. i know that as the working class, it is hard to find the time to speak out and make a change. i am in the same boat. but, you have to try. if you need help finding or accessing resources, do not be afraid to contact me. i am always available. i will gather the resources ive used, places ive donated to, etc. and link them in another post.

this blog is a friend to all. this blog fucking hates trump and all of his brain dead lackeys and supporters. this blog is extremely gay. this blog is for the people of gaza. this blog is for the people of ukraine. this blog is for the people of congo. this blog is for anyone that has been targeted and harmed by the oligarchical dictatorship that masks itself as “democracy.” if you find yourself not agreeing with those standpoints, standpoints that support HUMAN RIGHTS, then block me and pick up a book.

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