#getting me through the retail work day lmao

[fabdante]

ngl people being nice about excerpts is making me like

[astupidweeb69]

hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.

[ohthewh0rror]

YOU TOLERATE IT.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — “hey i love your writing. Can you write a tom riddle x reader with tolerate it by taylor swift”

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I’m starting to realize Tom is perpetually broke in most of the one-shots I write about him, but like, it’s the late 40’s and bro is working in retail while living in the city. My man is not gonna be rolling in money by any means (lmao). Also, let’s act like living together unmarried is cool in the 40’s.

“I know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it”

The bitter December winds left you shaking, the cold seeping beneath the layers of your clothes and settling deep into your skin. Winter was never your favorite time of year, it was far too cold and wet for your liking. The only good thing that came out of this wretched month was your lover's birthday, which is what brought you out of your flat and out into this dreary weather.

Tom may not care much about celebrating his birthday, seeing it as just another day of the year, but you always tried to do something special for him anyway. The past three years you had bought a cake and a handful of little gifts, but money was tighter than usual this year, as your hours had been nearly cut in half, leaving the two of you to rely more on Tom’s salary at Borgin and Burkes, so just a single present with no cake would have to suffice this time. To make up for only getting one thing, you decided to get him something special, and it took almost 3 months of saving and cutting corners in certain areas just to save up for the gift you were getting for him.

It was a limited edition book Tom had been eyeing for a while. You weren’t exactly sure what it was on, as Tom wasn’t one to share his work or research with you, but it seemed awfully important to him. So, with the little money you had saved you set out for the day to purchase it. Luckily the store was fairly empty, letting you get in and out quickly, now all that was left was to get home and find the right time to give it to him.

Stepping through the door of your shared flat had never felt like such a relief from the biting cold that was unable to reach you here in the warmth of yours and Tom’s place. You were careful to hang your coat and purse on the appropriate hooks, knowing Tom would ask you to straighten it if it wasn’t placed in the correct spots. You placed the bag containing his gift on the countertop, not bothering to hide it, as you knew Tom wouldn’t ask about it.

While you were happy to see Tom, he didn't seem to share the sentiment as he only spared you a quick glance before going back to reading the documents that sat before him on the table, the work before him apparently far more interesting than you at the moment. You tried not to be disappointed as you walked to him, rounding the table to where he was sitting. You least hoped to receive a ‘hello’ kiss from him, but, as you dipped down to place a kiss on his lips he flinched away from your touch causing you to stop where you were.

You could feel his breath fan across your face as your face hovered close to his, a feeling of hurt spreading through you. Tom must have seen the look on your face because he quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, darling, you took me off guard.”

Meeting you the rest of the way, he gave you a quick kiss, but you were still unsatisfied. His kiss seemed detached, almost impersonal, as if he was doing the action out of obligation and not love. You tried not to think too hard on it as Tom has never been very passionate, but it seemed like lately the love that was once there was being replaced by indifference. You knew every relationship had its ups and downs, but it was still difficult to work through as your presence felt as if it was being merely tolerated instead of sought after.

“Have you eaten lunch yet? I can make us something,” you offered, hoping he’d agree to it, as you couldn’t guarantee he’d be here for dinner and you wanted to give him his present. Tom gave you a simple ‘that’s fine’, before going back to his papers, leaving you to get to work.

As you made lunch you told Tom about your day and other small happenings in your life, just trying to make conversation with him. What Tom was working on must have been important because he was quieter than usual, not giving more than a one or two word answer. “—I mean, can you imagine?” You asked with a giggle drawing your lengthy story to an end, expecting to hear Tom’s amused voice in response.

Instead you were met with the opposite, “come again? I didn’t hear what you said.” Tom sounded unimpressed, making you falter, another wave of disappointment sweeping through you at the fact that he wasn’t listening to a word you said. “It’s nothing, just something silly that happened…” you trailed off at the end, not wanting to even bother finishing your sentence. Tom said nothing, and you didn’t bother saying anything else.

You and Tom sat in silence while you both ate, and though it wasn’t tense, it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. At least not to you, who now worried about giving Tom his birthday present. While you shouldn’t be worried about giving it to him, as you knew it was something he actually wanted, you couldn’t help but worry that you’d be met with the same unimpressed response.

You couldn’t just keep the present all night though, and if there was any time to do it, it was now. So, you got out your chair and grabbed the book from the bag it was in off the counter. Walking up to Tom you stopped just before him, causing him to set his fork down and look at you expectantly. You took in a breath before forcing the words out, “Happy 22nd birthday, Tom.” You held the book out to him, and he gently grabbed it from you, reading over the title.

You weren’t sure what you expected. A passionate kiss? A genuine thank you and declaration of love? Or maybe even just a grateful smile? Because what you got was none of that. No, you were met with a strained smile and a small thank you before he went back to eating.

You stood there for a second longer before going back to your seat feeling embarrassed. You saved for so long and put so many of your own wants aside in order to save up for this gift only to get nothing in return. You bit down harshly on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying at how truly unappreciated you felt by him.

Maybe it is time to leave and end things for good, you’re sure he wouldn’t be bothered by the absence of your presence. You could leave and start over, get a new job, a new place and find someone else.

Someone who actually loved and appreciated you.

But as you looked up from your plate and gazed upon his face you knew that you’d never be able to just up and leave. It would only leave you with a heavy ‘what-if’ hanging in the back of your mind. What if you were just overthinking his actions lately and this was just a normal rough patch? What if you hadn’t left? Would it have worked out?

You didn’t want to live with that ‘what if’, you would stay until he forced you away. So you keep quiet about your displeasure and just sit and watch him flip through the book, dreaming of a life where Tom is as madly in love with you as you are with him.

[ofmermaidstories]

there’s something so bittersweet and lovely about fanfic, at it’s core. it’s so impermeable, because it’s so individual. fics don’t get finished. fics get lost because they were typed out and sent to friends, in the 70s, and somewhere along the way someone packed it up in a cardboard box and their kids shuffled it to the attic. websites go down. archives get built, but then people lose faith in the story or the canon or the creator and delete them. you read it at like, 3am, and can’t remember the title months later when you look for it again.

the tiktok these comments are from was lamenting about the loss of a favourite fic—it (the tiktok) had 85k+ likes, and over 700 comments, mostly similar to these. people talking about downloading fics to read on a tablet only for them to disappear the next day. using the wayback machine and combing through results, just to find something they loved. i think it’s sweet because it’s so human—how easily we love something, and how easily we lose it. i used to print out my favourite fics, as a kid—i still have a binder of them, buried under yearbooks and the old journals i kept during those topsy turvy preteen years. i could tell you the overarching plot to a Cardcaptor Sakura fantasy AU i read (and loved; it became my personality for months afterwards) but i can’t remember how it ended, or if it even did. i finally broke down and signed up for an account on AO3 specifically to bookmark an old, old fic that i had read somewhere else, years and years and years ago and found again on AO3 only because i accidentally stumbled on the author here on tumblr (i had only found the fic in the first place all those years ago because of a playlist). i used the same shade of lipstick for years purely because a fic i really liked had the main character apply it (it was a limited edition one at the time; i bought my first one from a ebay seller in the UK at double the retail price, lmao) while the love interest watched them, but i can’t remember the name of it, only how it made me feel (and how, for years afterwards, i would wear that shade whenever i felt like the day had something promising to it).

one of the first anon’s i ever got, in the early days of this tumblr, was someone who asked me if it was okay if they downloaded surrender—and of course it was. of course it is. there was a point, during the final stretch when i was trying to write the last chapter, that i almost lost the entirety of what i had written for that fic—and i mean, it was on AO3 by that stage so it would’ve only set me back a chapter or so, but it goes to show how fragile things can be. how sometimes fics only last in tiny ways—because of the unfinished PDF file someone downloads. The patchy memory of someone’s who’s jumbling it and three other fics together. Because someone wore the same shade of lipstick you mentioned, off-hand, for years afterwards.

(this is a love letter to the silent readers; the silent savers. the lurkers. fandom and the internet at large is made of lurkers (eighty-five thousand likes. seven hundred comments). people who saved fics and waybacked them and will reread them, even uncompleted. telling each other we did a good job, that we liked this or we liked that is wonderful, and fun, and a great (and important) way to build a community and has also given me my current friends—but sometimes something you make will matter and live on in a way you will never, ever know. and it’s just how it is. it’s part of the fun and it’s part of the charm. it’s just how we work as people.)

[primroseparker]

Hi there! I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while and I'd rather read it than write it lol -though I might write something myself eventually-

Reader strongly disliking physical touch from everyone but Steve, and him being completely oblivious to it. The rest of the friend group pointing it out and him refusing to believe them, so the whole lot decide to prove him wrong with some sort of masterplan. (Idiots in love am I right)

What do you think? Hope you have a great day xxx

The Only Exception || Steve Harrington x female!reader

Summary: Physical touch was something you despised, but as always, Steve’s touch was the only exception. When he refuses to believe that you actually hate the whole concept of it, the kids come up with a plan to prove him wrong. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, reader dislikes physical touch

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long for me to write it. It was difficult because I’m the complete opposite (big fan of physical touch), but I tried my best to implement it in the story. I hope you like it! Also, this is not based on the Paramore song “The Only Exception”, I just thought that the title would fit this story lmao

The warm and bright rays of sunshine slip through the curtains, shining directly on your face and awakening you from your unconscious state. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn to face the other side. A hand comes up to your face, its thumb caressing your cheek slowly. You open your eyes and are met with Steve’s sleepy gaze.

“Hey,” he whispers as he gives you a small smile.

“G’morning,” you murmur as you put your arms around his waist and hug him close. “How long have you been up for?”

“Not long, I was just waiting for you to wake up,” he says nuzzling against your neck. He leaves a trail of soft kisses all the way from your jaw to your collarbone.

“I missed you last night,” he continues. 

“I’m sorry, I had to stay later than planned because this customer would just not shut up,” you groan as you remember the encounter. He pulls back to meet his gaze with yours. 

“I mean, he just kept going on and on about how his son was going off the rails with this so-called ‘satanic’ D&D game, saying that he was worried he would turn out to be a cult member,” rubbing the sleep from your eyes and then raising your arms above your head to stretch. 

“All I did was ask how he was doing, which is obviously a question that is asked clearly out of courtesy. I’m just a retail worker working minimum wage, not a therapist,” you scoff and roll your eyes in frustration. 

He looks at you with an amused expression. He loved that you felt comfortable enough to rant about your feelings, knowing full well that you had trouble doing so with most people. But he also found it entertaining because of the way you told your stories. 

“Don’t worry about it, dove. I’m just glad to wake up next to you,” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. He pulls you back into a hug and you close your eyes, letting the warmth from his touch embrace you like the world’s most comfortable blanket. 

In the two months you and Steve had been dating, neither of you had discussed your love languages. He assumed yours was physical touch since you always welcomed his touch eagerly. Because of this, he never had a reason to think otherwise. But in reality, you were never one to favor physical closeness. Your childhood lacked the expression of love through touch because your parents were never affectionate with you, or with each other for that matter. 

Before Steve, any kind of physical closeness would make you uncomfortable. However, having him that close would not only make you happy but calm. His hugs and kisses were like a breath of fresh air. It was something new and exciting, yet calming when you were stressed or low-spirited. Despite loving having him that close, his touch was the only one you tolerated. You, of course, were certain that his love language was physical touch; it was as clear as day and everyone knew it. 

“Come on, let’s go get some breakfast so we can help set up for Dustin’s birthday party,” you say as you let go of Steve and sit up into a cross-legged position. He throws his arm over his face and sighs. 

“Alright, just give me five more minutes of sleep and then I’ll get up to shower,” he mumbles into his arm.

“Five minutes will turn into ten, ten will turn into twenty, and next thing you know we’ll be an hour late, Steve”

“Fine,” he groans, “I’m getting up now.”

Your mouth quirks up at the corners with contentment. You love living with Steve. Moments of simple domestic bliss are your favorite, especially ones like these. Mornings with him are so soft. It is when you would let your guard down, allowing yourself to be who you really are, and it’s the same way for him. Uncrossing your legs, you give him a kiss on the forehead and get up from the bed. The two of you need to be at the Wheeler’s place soon to set up for the party, and if there’s one thing you dislike more than anything is being late. 

“Stevie, you better be in the shower by the time I come back!” you shout as you head to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you. As much as you love Steve, mornings, when you had somewhere else to be, were not easy.

—

“Happy birthday, Henderson,” Steve smiles as he embraces Dustin in a tight hug. The setup for the party had been pretty easy. All of the kids had offered to help make their friend’s birthday a special one, especially after everything that happened with the Upside Down. 

“Thanks, man,” Dustin responds.

“You know, it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier if you had told us what you wanted as a present instead of having us guess,” Steve says while rolling his eyes.

 Although he loved the kid, he hated trying to find a present that would be perfect to Dustin’s liking. It was incredibly stressful to him because he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted him to have a present that he would actually enjoy, something that Steve hadn’t experienced in his childhood as a result of his parent’s emotional negligence. Sure, they always provided him with anything he needed, but they never bothered to give him the attention and affection all childrens need. Every year, his parents would always give him money to buy whatever he wanted, even as a child. The thought that goes into buying a loved one something they want is much better than an envelope with a hundred bucks and a half-hearted congratulations. 

“I’m sure I’ll love whatever you got me. Plus, where’s the fun in just telling you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, dude. It better be something you like, otherwise I’m making you bike to return it for something you actually like. I’m not wasting gas on that,” he grumbles. You give him a knowing smile, after all, you know him well enough to know that he was all bark and no bite. At least not when it came to the people he loved. It seemed like Dustin knew it too because he just chuckles at his remark. 

“Happy birthday, Dustin,” you smile as you hand the young teen a blue envelope that contains a birthday card. 

“Thanks, y/n!” he says much more enthusiastically. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around you, with your own pinned against your side. You become still as a statue, not knowing how to respond to his touch. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you bring your right hand up to his back and give him a quick pat. He seems to get the hint because he drops his arms and gives you a slight smile. 

“Steve, could you help me carry one of my new inventions? It’s in the garage and it’s just too heavy for me to carry it,” Dustin says. 

“Sure, sure,” Steve responds. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” he says as he turns to you. 

“I’m sure. I’ll go ask Mrs. Henderson if she needs help with anything,” you smile reassuringly. 

“Alright,” he says, giving you a small peck on the cheek before turning on his heel to follow Dustin. 

Dustin opens the door to the garage, finding the rest of his friends sitting on the floor playing a boardgame. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Steve questions.

“Dustin’s mom got mad at us for yelling while playing the game. She told us to either tone it down or come to the garage. So, we decided to come here instead,” Lucas shrugs. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be hanging out with the others,” he adds. Steve assumes that by the others he means Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, and you. 

“I was, but Henderson over here wanted me to help him carry something that was apparently too heavy for him. Which is bullshit because I know for a fact he would rather struggle to carry something than ask for my help.”

With that, he turns to look at Dustin. “So what’s going on, dude?” he questions, brow arched in suspicion. 

“When were you going to tell me that y/n hates hugs?” Dustin asks. 

“What are you talking about? She loves hugs,” he says, surprise crossing his face.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. It sure would’ve been better if you had told me before I hugged her today.”

Steve shoots him a quizzical look and asks, “I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Everytime we hug her she either awkwardly stands very still with her arms pinned to her sides or just dodges the gesture altogether,” Max joins in, “I thought you knew that already.”

“You guys have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve says.

“It’s true, last week when she helped me with my History homework, I tried to give her a hug but she just stook out her hand for a handshake instead,” Will reveals. 

“And a few minutes ago she just stood very still and gave me a pat on the back while I gave her a hug,” Dustin adds.

“I think I would know if my girlfriend disliked physical touch,” Steve insists. 

“You think we’re making it up? Fine, we’ll prove you wrong, Dingus,” Dustin fires back. He goes up to Mike and whispers something in his ear. Mike nods and turns to whisper the same thing in El’s ear. 

“Let’s go,” Dustin says. The rest of the kids follow him, Steve trailing right behind them. They head to the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch reading your book.

“Hey, y/n,” Dustin greets you. You look from your novel, and smile at the kids. 

“Hey,” you answer back.

“We just wanted to thank you for everything you have done for us. I mean, from helping us out with our English and History homework, to giving us rides to the arcade and helping decorate for my birthday party,” he continues.

“Yeah, and thanks for the relationship advice you gave us earlier this week,” Mike comments as he glances at El.

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m happy to help out however I can,” giving them a gentle smile.

“Can I give you a hug?” El asks shyly. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you mutter. You step forward in her direction and wrap your left arm around her shoulders for a brief second. When you step back, you give her a tight smile and put your hands in the pockets of your jacket. 

“Are you okay, y/n?” Lucas asks. 

“Of course,” you reply.

“Did I do something wrong? Was my hug that bad?” El asks you, a frown forming on her face. 

“What? No, not at all. You’re a great hugger El” you quickly say.

“Or do you just don’t like us? Is that why you hate our hugs?” Dustin inquires, brows furrowed in worry. 

“It’s not you guys, I promise. I’m just not that fond of physical touch,” you admit, an apologetic look on your face. 

“What? All this time you’ve hated it and you couldn’t even tell me?” Steve asks, a hurtful look crossing his face.

“We’ll leave you two to talk,” Dustin says quietly. They all glance at each other in confusion, but Dustin nods towards the hallway that leads back to the garage. They exit the room, leaving the two of you in awkward silence.

“Does that mean that you’ve hated all of the kisses and hugs I’ve been giving you this entire time?” Steve asks, eyebrows lowered and pulled together. 

You close the space that separates the two of you and bring your hands up to his face to softly cup his cheek.

 “Baby, I’ve loved every single kiss and hug you have given me so far. Look, I know we’ve never discussed this, but physical touch doesn’t come easy to me. I mean, the kids just proved it,” you laugh humorlessly. 

“My parents were never affectionate with me, so anything that involves touching other people makes me uncomfortable. I never thought that it would change, but then you came along and became my only exception,” you continue, “Trust me when I say that nothing makes me happier than feeling you close to me.”

“But why didn’t you say anything, dove?” he asks softly, tilting up your chin and cupping both of your cheeks. You take your hands off his face and hold his wrists instead, as if to keep his hands in place. 

“It never came up. Plus, I didn’t want you to think that I hated your touch,” you answer in the same tone. 

“I’m sorry for not saying anything,” you add.

“And I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,” he responds.

“I guess we’re just two idiots in love, huh? Too blinded to see the obvious,” he chuckles. 

“I guess we are,” you chuckle as well, standing on your toes to meet your lips with his.

—

Taglist: @shyawayfromme @untitledarea

For some reason I couldn’t tag most of the people that answered my google form taglist, just these two. Not sure why it’s happening but sorry!

[genericpuff]

Hey puff you have a day job right? How do you keep the motivation/discipline to create comics regularly and be an active blogger?

I've mentioned this a few times before and generally try to be as transparent as possible as I can when it comes to my real life circumstances and how they affect - and allow - my comic production schedule, because when it comes right down to it, I'm in a very privileged position that allows me certain luxuries that other comic creators simply don't have. And I don't really like the idea of someone seeing what I do and like... thinking that's a bar they have to meet because it often comes with a complete misinterpretation of what circumstances I'm in that may vary extremely from their own. Y'all are seeing a tip of a very large iceberg, y'know?

I do have a day job, I work as a tattoo artist, however my schedule is very much my own to control and while that comes with a lot of pressure to find my own work, it also allows for me to have flexibility with my other projects. That said, I'm only able to be that flexible because when I'm making money, I'm making really decent money (and with far less hours than I would need to make my living if I was working in retail still) and when I'm not, I've got a partner who makes a more consistent living that may have a much smaller hourly than what I get hourly for tattooing, but is still a decent hourly compared to minimum wage that he's able to handle bills while I get back on my feet (and there have been tons of times where our situations have been reversed, where I've been making good money and he's been needing extra help; it's honestly kind of some cosmic prank, the two of us can never seem to be doing financially well at the same time lmao)

Right now, we're just starting to come out of a slow winter season, so I've had more time than ever to sink into my personal projects. It does get stressful at times having such inconsistent payouts through the ebbs and flows of tattooing, but I try to be at peace with those slow seasons because it allows me to work on my passion projects. Especially when I've got not one, not two, but three separate tattoo expos (so far) to do this summer, which is gonna be (hopefully) three separate 30 hour weekends of straight tattooing haha And while I say hopefully (because yay good money and good publicity!) it's also gonna be extremely stressful and exhausting so I'm trying not to take the slower season for granted, because I know I'll be wishing for it again when I'm in the midst of it. And that's not even including all the other events I have booked this year that are purely for vendoring (so unrelated to tattooing) that are also gonna be crazy.

That said, the past couple years have felt particularly hard, but I know it's because we're unfortunately in the midst of a massive economic recession that has seen people spending less on luxury things - and that includes tattoos. But my comics and other personal projects give me a great outlet for my ideas and thoughts, and while projects like Rekindled are unfortunately not something I feel comfortable monetizing, they are ultimately projects that bring me a lot of joy and I think that's the best I can ask for nowadays while I wait in the hopes that things get better soon in the real world.

As for getting that motivation/discipline, I don't really have one solid answer. The reality is just that I've been doing this for a long, long time, so not drawing comics feels like not doing any other established good habit. What you may feel wondering how I manage to work so long on a single comic project with such hefty updates is undoubtedly pretty close to what I feel wondering how the fuck people manage to go to the gym LOL It's taken a lot of routine building and repetition and it's as natural as breathing to me at this point, I just feel gross when I've gone a day without drawing comics in some form. That routine has helped me get better and faster at creating as well. When I started my first long-form comic series, I started out just drawing a page a day - often taking 3-4 weeks to complete a chapter - and by the time it was done 7 years later, I was putting out a chapter a week. And then that turned into 60-90 panels of full color art a week... nah, I don't recommend anyone do that on their own like I did, I can't even do that anymore and looking back I'm in shock how I was able to pull that off, and not in an amazed "why can't I do that anymore, I used to be so awesome!" way, but more in a "oh god why did I do that to myself, no wonder I'm burnt out" way.

And honestly that's kind of the reality of it, while I'm putting out consistent updates of Rekindled that are in full color and are - in my opinion - some of the best work I've put out in the last few years, I'm also struggling to rebuild habits with my original project because I've simply fallen out of practice. I'm one person responsible for all the work I've put out, and yet when it comes to looking at the projects I still have sitting on the backburner, I still feel a sort of internalized version of Person A looking at Person B and asking "how the hell do you do it???" just like you're asking me now lol I'm working on it though and trying to get back to it little by little, day by day. On rare occasions I actually get something productive done and make progress LOL

That said, none of it has come without consequences. I've spent the majority of my artistic journey working on the same project which I feel has severely stunted my outreach and set me back in my growth; after all, we only ever see and judge the merit of webcomic projects based on the 1% of people who got lucky and achieved some semblance of fame and recognition out of it, you never see the people who have spent years still picking away at the same project from the bottom with little to show for it besides the work that's going unseen. I've also already got way more back and hip pain than one should have by their late 20's and that's definitely a consequence of spending so many hours every single day working on comics. As much as I've built some great habits that have made my comics and art better, I've also ended up with some very bad ones that a lot of people don't see because all they see is the results from the good ones. So that's something that I hope I can at least warn people about, even as a reminder to stand up and stretch every now and then and get their proper amount of sleep LMAO

And then when it comes to the blogging... I'm an AuDHD person with a lot to say and I can type at 137/wpm. So that's all there is to that ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[amiharana]

revalink flower shop x tattoo shop omgg... who runs which shop how do they meet are they competitive with their businesses do they give each other cute things from their shops 👁

god it would work either way, but ultimately i think link would own the tattoo shop and revali would own the flower shop. i only decided it because revali seems like the type to have to do multiple sessions for the tiniest tattoo because his pain tolerance is low for tattoos LMAO bro is sitting there like "it doesn't hurt i swear" meanwhile his face is red and he's sucking in his lips trying not to burst into tears ready to shit his pants, but the needle hasn't even touched his skin yet ✋😭

this au could go in a couple different ways: (1) link and revali hate each other and fight all the time about being the better store (boring!), (2) there's no rivalry and link and revali are mutually interested in each other (better, but a bit ooc i feel), or (3) link moves in and becomes more and more curious as he catches glimpses of his (((attractive))) store-neighbor while secretly hopeless romantic revali is grumpy and annoyed about how off-putting a tattoo shop will look next to his flower shop and there's a very mild one-sided rivalry mentality on his end, but as link tries to get to know revali better, revali thinks, perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. you already know what i'm about to write about rn lmfao.

revali's flower shop "the meadow" has been open on tabantha street for a couple years now. he thinks of himself as a very good florist, probably the best in the entire city of hyrule, and he's actually won a couple floral design competitions??? revali inherited the shop from his parents after they passed and he gets fairly good business, especially because everyone who lives on this street are hopeless romantics who are always buying bouquets for dates or to bring home to their spouses. revali will roll his eyes and scoff lightheartedly to his customers about how mushy it all is (but inside, he wants the same for himself; to go home to someone he loves with a bouquet of flowers. revali wonders sometimes, when he watches customers leave with red roses in hand, if he was meant to ever find love. he looks over at the vase of forget-me-nots on the counter; perhaps, one day).

the retail space next to revali's shop has been empty for a couple years and revali is thinking about expanding into the space when suddenly, the space gets rented out and in moves some blond twink with a fully tatted up arm with his dumb little tattoo shop called "master ink zero" or some shit. revali comes in to work one day only for there to be construction going on in the empty space he's been eyeing for a while, and that cute blond twink is standing in front of it talking to one of the workers. what the fuck. all this construction noise is going to scare revali's soft-hearted hopeless romantic customers away! the blond notices him and holds a hand up to wave a little, but revali just glares and turns away to unlock the door to his shop. he could really let that kid have it, but he holds his tongue because he needs to open the store. (he is kind of cute though... stop it, bad revali!)

the day continues as smoothly as it can with construction noise muffled through one of the shop's walls giving revali a migraine. fortunately, his regulars still come but unfortunately, every single one of them comments on the construction.

"you're going to get a new neighbor!" amali says as revali rings up the regular bouquet for her husband kass. "how exciting! you won't be lonely anymore."

"what a curious mix," muses saki when she enters the shop. "a flower shop and a tattoo parlor next to each other. you know, my teba and i are quite the opposites ourselves and they say opposites attract, so—" and revali flushes, squawking and ushering her out. she only laughs at him and bids him well.

the moment his friend urbosa steps into the store to visit, revali knows that she knows and immediately regrets his entire life. "have you proposed marriage to him yet?" she asks, smirking and sits on the counter.

"get off of my counter, i just wiped that down," revali snipes at her, frowning. "whatever do you mean, propose?"

"to blondie next door," she says, cocking her head to the side towards the construction. revali rolls his eyes but she continues. "he's your type down to a T."

"and he's going to scare off my customers," he replies and returns to spraying his vase of forget-me-nots. "i could care less whether or not he's my type."

urbosa hums. "well he's cute and he seems like a nice kid." suddenly, her gaze shifts into something more serious and revali's shoulders tense. "revali... forgive me if i overstep, but i know you've been alone for a while. you've been running this shop for years, working nonstop. i don't think you've ever had a moment to yourself. it might be nice to take a leap of faith on this one, you know?"

revali reverts his attention back to the forget-me-nots and doesn't say anything else, touching the petals with gentle fingers. urbosa sighs. "just consider it, okay? i care about you and i want you to be happy."

"i know," he murmurs. "i know. i'll think about it. only because you asked me to, though. not because he's my type." urbosa smiles and punches his shoulder lightly, to which revali wrinkles his nose at her. he'll think about it.

somehow, the tattoo shop finishes construction in the next week (that bolson construction company sure is efficient...) and opens. revali should probably go over to congratulate his new neighbor with a bouquet of daffodils and white carnations, but he's already glared them down the first time he saw them. with an oddly uncomfortable feeling in his chest, he keeps to himself in his little flower shop, tending to his vase of forget-me-nots and all his other flowers.

(but just because revali doesn't want to visit doesn't mean that link won't 👁️)

the soft chime of a bell alerts revali that a customer has stepped into the store. "welcome to the meadow," he starts, looking up from his computer to the door, "what can i help you with—?" and the rest of his words are stuck in his throat. there, in the threshold of his store, is the blond twink with the fully tatted arm staring at revali with wide, bright blue eyes.

revali never actually got a good look at him when they saw each other the first time. the blond is wearing a loose green tank top, black leather jeans, and combat boots, and his tatted arm is fully on display, swirling with deliberate strokes of ink. he's quite toned and lean, now that revali has gotten a closer look. definitely not his type. he's not!

"hi," the blond says, his voice as soft as the doorbell. "i'm link. i'm the... owner of the tattoo shop next door." he's got freckles, revali thinks faintly before he can actually process any other words.

"really? i wouldn't have ever known with your entire arm covered in tattoos," he says instead. "perhaps you were actually a receptionist or a dog walker who stumbled upon my humble shop." revali cringes internally after the words leave his mouth; he didn't mean to come off that rude for their first proper interaction. he just wanted to be a little rude.

but link only smiles at him, small but genuine, and a feeling grows in revali's chest that he can't quite name. "i'm not sure i'd be very good at either of those things," he says and steps a little closer to the counter, hands in his pockets.

"and who's to say you're any good at tattooing either?" revali mutters, and he doesn't mean for link to actually hear it, but he does, much to revali's chagrin.

link cocks his head, still smiling. "you could come by and find out," he says, and revali blinks at him. they maintain each other's gaze for a couple moments, link's eyes bright and wide, until revali finally tears his gaze away back to his computer. he can't read a single word on the screen.

"revali," he says instead, still keeping his eyes on the screen. it's almost feels difficult to get the words out. "my name is revali."

"hi revali," link says, leaning against the counter now. "it's nice to meet you." then, he glances up at the clock mounted above revali's head. "i have to get back now, i just wanted to properly introduce myself to you now that we'll be working next door to each other. i hope to see you around." with that, link stands up, bows his head a little, and gives revali another smile before leaving.

(and if revali stared after him and the way those leather jeans hugged his figure quite nicely, no he didn't.)

and that's how it starts 😳 at first i considered having link also keep to his own shop at first, but i don't think that does his "character" justice in the game. if you consider us as players to be equivalent to botw link's character (i.e. how we maneuver link in-game, what dialogue options we choose, etc), then link has this natural curiosity about the world around him and wants to explore and talk to new people. so of COURSE if he sees that his neighbor is hot, he's going to want to come over and say hiiiii *twirls his hair*

revalink shenanigans ensue <3 in the beginning, link would randomly drop by during the week for a minute or two, to say hi and make small talk with revali and at first, revali wouldn't say much eyeing the blond. but his short responses and cold demeanor don't deter link; it seems to spur him on, the blond smiling brightly at him with every greeting and with every goodbye.

one day, link comes in and after he says hello, he starts walking around the store looking at the flowers like he's a customer. revali blinks and watches link walk around, dumbfounded.

"what are you doing?" revali says.

"looking at the flowers," link says. he gently touches the edges of the flowers' petals as he moves between the aisles, the same way that revali treats the flowers. "i want to put some on our reception desk. i think it would look really nice." he stops before a cluster of sunflowers and then looks at revali. "can i get some of these?"

revali faintly notes how well link resembles the bright flowers, before scoffing. "if you're going to get flowers to greet your customers, you might as well put some effort into it!" he snips, crossing his arms. "sunflowers are a good choice, but sunflowers only are bland. here, if you were to add some of these—"

he ends up walking link around the entire adding flowers to the ones in link's hand and talking about the different meanings and nuances of flowers, until the arrangement has become a bouquet of sunflowers, gladiolus flowers, jasmine flowers, and calendulas, surrounded by a bunch of little white chamomiles.

"there," revali says, putting his hands on his hips and puffing up proudly. "now that is a bouquet worthy to greet customers."

"it's very beautiful," link comments. he gazes at the bouquet and touches the flowers with those ever so gentle fingers skirting the edges of the petals. "thank you for helping me put it together. how much does it cost?"

and that stops revali in his tracks, his hands dropping to his sides. he totally forgot that link wanted to get flowers for his own store and came here acting like a customer. "yes, the matter of payment," revali starts, blinking and brain scrambling, "well, then, just think of it as a welcoming gift."

"a welcoming gift?" link echoes, cocking his head at revali with those wide blue eyes.

"yes!" revali says, his face beginning to flush. "because your store is still brand new and i hadn't welcomed you properly either..." revali looks away, feeling his cheeks burn. "it's the least i can do..."

when he looks back at link, that familiar smile has returned to his face, eyes sparkling. "thank you, revali," link says, voice soft. "that's really nice of you." and revali's heart flutters.

"well, of course!" he stammers, willing his face not to burn brighter than it already is. "you're fortunate enough to be neighbors with me, the kindest, most benevolent, and gentlemanly florist in all of hyrule." link smiles brighter at him, holding the flowers to his chest and revali looks away, the pounding in his heart so intense he wonders if it will punch through his ribcage out onto the floor.

link starts coming in on mondays and wednesdays during his lunch break just to talk to revali, and gets him to talk more about the meanings of the flowers and the nuances of different colors, the best way to arrange flowers, etc., link happily listening along. it takes some time for revali to get used to, the sound of their voices filling the usually quiet shop for that sacred half hour but once it's set into place, revali looks forward to it every week (though he'll never admit it out loud).

"don't you eat during a lunch break?" revali comments once, after finishing a spiel about invasive flowers to never plant. link hums questioningly at him. "it's a lunch break. aren't you hungry?"

"oh," link says. "i guess?" and right on cue, a rumble comes from the blond's stomach and he looks up at revali with a sheepish smile. "ahah... i got so caught up talking to you i forgot i had to eat."

revali rolls his eyes, then sighs looking up at the clock. "we still have 20 minutes," he says. "come on, let's go to the cafe."

"cafe?" link repeats, as revali grabs his phone, wallet, and keys. "there's a cafe here?"

"had you paid much more attention to anywhere else but me, you'd have known," revali says, but link still stares at him with his head tilted, waiting for an answer. "one of my regulars, amali, runs the 'birdbath' cafe just down the street. she has an assortment of meals for you to choose from, you can just get one to-go."

they enter the cafe and amali starts greeting them until she realizes it's revali and then realizes it's revali with a guest and she's like IS THIS YOUR NEW NEIGHBOR??? and he's reservedly like Yeah... and now amali is fussing all over link and asking him about how he's settling in, is everything going okay, is revali nice to you, you can come in anytime you'd like! revali is like Pls....... we have 15 minutes until link has to go back to work just give him food girl

link is very excited about the entire menu because everything looks really good. "i'll have to come back here to try everything!" he tells amali and she's ecstatic. "i'm telling you, come back anytime! you're always welcome here," she says warmly.

and when link gets ready to pay, revali brushes him aside and offers his card to amali. amali gives revali a knowing look and accepts the card, but link looks up at him confused. "you don't have to..." he starts.

"i'll pay for you this time," revali mutters, averting his eyes. "i'm the one who dragged you out here after all." and link stares with those huge blue eyes.

"thank you," he says softly. "you're so kind, revali."

"that's our revali!" amali chuckles, handing revali his card back. "he might seem like all high and mighty, but he's really just a softie inside. why do you think he runs a flower shop?"

"amali!" revali gripes, flushing. "please just get link his food." he glances back at link, who's still gazing at him with an expression that revali doesn't know how to read. he looks at revali so softly, so tenderly, and... fond. revali swallows and adjusts his collar. is it hot in here or is it just him?

god this post is already so long but there is so much potential for so many revalink shenanigans in this au 🥺

link coming to get bouquets every week for his own store and learning how to make bouquets with revali

link showing revali his portfolio of tattoos and offering to give revali a tattoo for a discounted price only for revali to decline and link gets sad, until revali quickly says that he's scared of needles and link is like ohhh (but he's still kind of disappointed because he likes the idea of tattooing revali)

link secretly sketching and designing tattoos in his off-time that he think would look really beautiful and fit revali really well. and fantasizing about touching revali's biceps to tattoo him LOL

what if link had a tramp stamp. link with a tattoos on his ribcage and groin. tattoos behind his ear. he shows revali all of these irl in the shop and revali's face is so red he's just like Um. Yes Those Are All Very Nice. Yes. Please Put Your Clothes Back On.

link coming in to buy a bouquet of lilies for zelda and revali goes all tense and upset and is like. is that your gf. and link is like GOD NO that's my twin sister and lilies are her favorite flower and revali relaxes and is like oh. that's nice of you to get her some (but is secretly pleased that link doesn't have a significant other)

urbosa coming to visit the store at a time when link is there on his lunch break, and they get to introduce themselves to each other properly. revali is sitting there sweating the entire time and when link tells urbosa about how he comes here to spend his lunch breaks, urbosa smirks at revali, who's ready to shit himself

(urbosa texting revali later congratulating him on tapping that ass. revali screams at her that he has NOT done that. and she replies with "yet?". he threatens to block her)

everyone else on tabantha street realizing that link and revali are kind of having a Thing™ going on between them. and they all start planning to try to get them together. there's a reason why i have "i won't say i'm in love" from disney's hercules on my revalink playlist because everyone is getting in on Operation: Revalink trying to push revali into asking link out and he's like no nothing is going on between us i swear except he's spends all his breaks and off-time with link, taking him to cafes and paying for everything link orders, sitting in on tattoo sessions because link invites him over, teaching link how to make bouquets... ok so maybe they have something going on, leave me alone saki, i'm not going to ask him out

THIS WILL BE THE LAST SCENARIO I TALK ABOUT bc this post is so damn long now, but i imagine a scene where link asks revali about the vase of flowers on the counter and what kind of flowers they are. revali looks over at the forget-me-nots he's been carefully tending to and inhales, and tells link.

"those are forget-me-nots," revali says, in a voice that's uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable. it makes link sit up, becoming much more attentive to revali's demeanor. "they're perennial hardy flowers that die in the winter but regrow again during the spring. there's an old story about these little ones, where a knight and his lover were walking alongside a river. the knight reached down to pick the flowers that were growing near the river, but his armor was too heavy and he ended up falling in, only to be swept away by the river's current. if you ask me, it's a foolish way to go; why was he wearing such heavy armor anyway? but as he floated away, he threw the flowers he picked to his lover and shouted, 'forget me not!' and the flower was named as such."

revali reaches over to pull the vase closer and places it in between him and link. the flowers are small and delicate little things, a sweet shade of blue with a yellow center. both he and link touch the flowers as they do, with gentle fingers against the edges of the petals.

"these were the flowers that my father offered when he was courting my mother," revali says, gaze faraway. "as you can see, it worked out." he gestures to himself and link smiles. "they're supposed to represent everlasting love, a love so true and strong that it can't be forgotten." he pauses, rubbing a petal in between his fingers before continuing. "i've always wanted to offer a bouquet of these to someone that i love, in the same way my father did for my mother. as sentimental as it is, it's... romantic and meaningful."

"it is," link agrees softly. "whoever you give these flowers to will be very lucky to have someone like you." and revali makes the mistake of looking up to meet link's gaze, because that's where everything about him changes.

when he looks at link, the sun is shining through the windows of the shop, casting a golden glow over the blond. he gazes at revali with those wide blue eyes, the ones that revali has become increasingly enamored with in the time they've spent together, the same color as the forget-me-nots. beautiful, revali thinks and this time he doesn't shy away from the thought because it's true.

then, he takes a flower from the vase and reaches over the counter to slip it behind link's ear, tucking his hair as he goes. link stills, his eyes growing wider and his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink as revali's fingers touch his skin, gentle and featherlight, and for a moment in time, they're the closest they've ever been to each other since they've met. revali could probably count all of the freckles on spread across link's nose and cheeks. in this moment, revali wouldn't mind if they got closer than this. he'd like it a lot, actually.

but he pulls away and sits back down, admiring the way the flower sits prettily behind his ear, contrasting against link's golden hair and tan skin in the sunlight. link is still wide-eyed and pink-faced and it makes revali smile (just a little!). "yes, they'd be very lucky," he murmurs. "blue is definitely your color, by the way. you should wear it more often."

"th-thanks," link whispers, reaching up to touch the flower in his hair. "i'll keep that in mind."

yes, they could be closer than this. revali hopes that one day they could.

[quiet-nocturne]

some updates:

- I finished my big bang fic at like 9pm last night. I'm pretty happy with it, but it's also crazy long, so I had to rush some of the editing at the end. After it's posted on Oct. 3rd I may go back and re-edit it at some point, but not for a looooong time because I've literally looked at that thing for nine straight months lmao. 🙃 that fic was literally my magnum opus.

me, before I started writing: *calculates the minimum word count of each chapter, worried I won't be able to reach 100k, excessively plans out all the outlines for each chapter*

me, now:

like... it's a monstrosity. 💀 I wrote ~400 pages in nine months. what the actual fuck. super crazy, but it's doneeee! ✨️😌

- I started a new job today (very conveniently, the day after the due date of the big bang). It's actually related to my degree, full time, and I get to SIT all day - it's amazing (and it's better pay than my previous, shitty retail job). The people there are really nice and I'm really excited, and I feel like stuff is clicking into place now, kind of??? Writing overcome honestly got me through a pretty shitty time in my life, and it's weird that I submitted it the day before I started the new job. spooky. anyway.

- I was really busy in July, and then August was me writing/editing like a mad woman, so I wasn't on here much. However, I'm going to start promoting my big bang fic for October 3rd, and thus posting snippets for wip wednesdays again (especially now that I have a more normally work schedule and will actually know when wednesday is! 🎉)

- really excited to write other stuff now that my other massive fic is done! I definitely have some new stuff cooking in my brain that I'll start working on soon. 🍳

[drabbles-mc]

Crunch-Time

Angel Reyes & EZ Reyes & OC Evangeline Reyes

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This exists in the same universe as Interruptions but can be read without having read that first. I have the next part of this universe written up already as well, so I'm hoping to post that over the next few days at some point. this piece and the next one are focused more on the three Reyes Siblings than Evangeline and Franky but i promise it is all gonna come back together haha. anyway! as always unedited and unbeta'd because the muse caught me by the jugular tonight lmao

The morning had been quiet so far. Mornings in the middle of the week didn’t tend to be busy times for most of the shops on the strip, and Evangeline’s was no exception. She took advantage of the lack of foot traffic, calling and emailing with the people on both sides of the border who sent her their clothes and jewelry to sell in her shop. She was far from a big name or a huge retailer, but she was good and fair to the artists and designers that she worked with. And for a lot of people who were just trying to make some extra money to get by, that was more than enough.

She was updating some of her order spreadsheets, getting to the bottom of her first coffee of the day, when the bells above her shop door chimed. Out of habit she smiled, turning her head slightly to the door even though her eyes were still on the computer screen in front of her as she spoke to the customer who had just come through the door.

“Bienvenidos! I’ll be with you in just one second.”

“Okay,” the woman responded, a twinge of uncertainty in her voice.

Her tone got Evangeline to look up and over at her, wondering what was going on that was making her sound like that. The woman was standing in the tiny little foyer area of the shop, right by the chair that her brothers usually occupied whenever they stopped by to bother her. She looked a little older, enough gray strands of hair mixed in with the brown to be prominent. She had dress bag draped over her arms. Despite the fact that the woman seemed to be trying to keep a neutral expression, Evangeline could see the worry in her eyes.

She got up and walked around the counter, stopping a few feet in front of her before asking, “How can I help you?”

The woman drew in a deep breath, and for a moment Evangeline wasn’t sure if she was trying to steady herself, or if she was about to let loose a tirade. She braced herself for both regardless. The woman locked eyes with her, lips curled into a small frown. “I’m so sorry,” she said, words tumbling out along with the deep breath she’d just taken, “just barging in like this. But I didn’t know…a friend of a friend recommended you and I just,” her shoulders slumped in defeat, “I’m in a bit of a tough spot.”

Evangeline nodded. “Okay. What kind of tough spot are we talking about?”

The woman gave a small lift of her arms, just enough to draw attention to the dress bag. “My son’s wedding is this weekend, and the dress that was supposed to be delivered a month ago isn’t going to be delivered until next week so I had to go out and buy another one but nothing fit off the rack and everywhere else is saying they can’t get it done in time,” she spoke like the sentence was never going to end, like she had been trying to pick certain bullet points to say and then just decided on all of them, “and I understand it’s short notice and it’s not their fault but I really need—”

Evangeline took a small step forward, just close enough so that she could rest her hand on the outside of the woman’s arm. “How about,” she spoke gently, “we get this on you and take a look. Let me know what you need done and I’ll see what I can do about having it ready for you before your son’s wedding.”

The woman’s eyes instantly glassed over with tears of relief as she nodded. “That would be great. Th-thank you.”

She nodded as she let her hand drop back to her side. She motioned for the woman to follow her towards the back of the store. “I’m Evangeline, by the way.”

The woman let out a shaky laugh. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—” she shook her head, “April.”

“Nice to meet you, April.” She reached and opened up the door to the dressing room. “Let me know if you need help.”

It didn’t take long for the woman to re-emerge. Evangeline instantly smiled. The dress was beautiful—a deep purple floor length gown that was one-shoulder. From the first glance she could already tell that, unless April was planning on wearing heels high enough to snap her ankles walking down the aisle, the dress was at least going to be hemmed. If that’s all it was, she could get it done quickly, but she didn’t want to speak too soon.

“I know it’s not the dress you wanted,” she said as April stepped up onto the small platform in front of the trifold mirror, “but it looks amazing.”

She laughed and smiled. “Thank you.”

Evangeline was slipping on her wristlet that had a collection of pins and sewing needles jammed into it. “So, what are we looking to get done?”

She sighed. “I at least need it hemmed…”

Evangeline nodded as she looked at the flats the woman was wearing. “How short? Are you wearing heels or—”

She laughed and waved her off good-naturedly. “I’m too told to be worrying about heels and a dancefloor at this point. I’m just trying to make sure I don’t fall over and take my son down with me.”

Evangeline laughed. “I get it, I get it. Alright, so we’re hemming. What else?”

She motioned to the waistline. “If you could let this out a little bit maybe? Feels like I can barely breathe let alone eat.” She paused to laugh. “And I know they got a really good cake for the reception.”

Evangeline hummed in amusement. “Well, can’t have you missing out on that, can we?”

“I’d love not to.”

She nodded understandingly as they talked about a couple other small things that she was looking to have done to the dress. She made a quick lap around to get the full scope of it before giving her final verdict. “I should be able to have this ready for you by the time I close up shop on Friday.”

Shock completely absorbed her expression. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I got a couple jobs that can wait until next week. I can get this done for you as long as Friday isn’t too late.”

April’s laughter was coated in relief as she stepped down and wrapped Evangeline in a hug. “Thank you.”

She hugged her back, unable to stop herself from laughing as well. “Don’t thank me until it’s done,” she joked.

She had April step back up onto the platform so that she could start pinning her dress where it needed to be hemmed to. Now that the initial panic that caused her visit was mostly resolved, Evangeline noticed how much more relaxed they both were, but especially April. They made small talk as she walked around and placed her pins and marked where she needed to for later.

Getting the dress marked up was, surprisingly enough, the quickest part of their exchange. She understood why it was hard for April to find a place to take care of her last minute—it was prom season and the start of wedding season so most places were probably slammed. It wasn’t as though Evangeline’s schedule was painfully open, but she always tried to leave herself a little wiggle-room just in case.

The two of them were putting the dress back on the hanger after April had changed back into her regular clothes when Evangeline heard her brother’s bikes outside. Or rather, she assumed it was them—it wasn’t as though the other members of the club made a habit out of stopping by to visit her very often.

She was purposely ignoring it as she and April traded contact information. The roar of the engines stopped, moments later the door chimes rang, and Evangeline was still intent on ignoring it all. She noticed the way that April turned to look and see who had walked in, and she also noticed the momentary shift in her expression. It wasn’t a negative change, but she definitely hadn’t been expecting two men in club kuttes to walk through the door. Evangeline couldn’t blame her for the shock.

She walked with her back towards the front of the store, still not acknowledging her brothers. “I’ll give you a call first thing on Friday to let you know when you can come and pick it up.”

April had let out so many sighs of relief that she’d lost count, but she added another one to the tally. “Thank you so much. Really, I, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course. It was nice meeting you, April.”

She nodded. “You too.” She tucked the card that Evangeline had given her into her purse as she tried to slip past Angel and Ezekiel without getting in their way. She brushed by Angel, giving him a small nod and a kind, “Excuse me,” on the way.

There was a smirk on his face as he stepped out of her way. Hands tucked in his pockets he put on the most charming voice he had as he said, “You have a good day, Miss.”

Her smile stretched a little wider. “Thank you.”

Once the door shut behind her, Evangeline immediately rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I could kill you for how ridiculous you are. Sabes?” She gestured to EZ. “He wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

Angel laughed as he held his hands up in surrender. “What? I was just bein’ n—”

“You weren’t bein’ anything good. Poor woman just trying to come in here to get a dress hemmed and she’s gotta…” she trailed off as she shook her head.

EZ was trying and failing at his attempts to stifle his laughter. He looked at Angel. “Told you we should’ve come later.”

Angel waved him off without even looking at him. “Nah, nah. This is breaking news. Can’t wait.” He focused on Evangeline. “Think I might have a job for you.”

She was shaking her head as she turned around and started returning to the back of the store. “I told you guys—I only stitch fabric. I’m not sewing up anyone in the club who—”

Angel sucked his teeth in annoyance. “No, Eva. I meant,” he huffed, thrown off his game. “Will you fuckin’ listen?”

EZ wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter anymore. Evangeline turned around and faced Angel, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing vaguely in the air. “Alright, alright. I’m listening. Dime.”

“Like I was fuckin’ saying,” Angel started again, “I think I got a job for you.” He reached dramatically into the pocket of his kutte. “Think you got time to maybe, I dunno,” he pulled out a small slip of fabric that Evangeline almost didn’t recognize for a moment, “stitch on your little brother’s Secretario patch?”

Evangeline’s smile was warm as she laughed. “Got a promotion?”

“Hell yeah,” Angel agreed.

She nodded as she folded her arms across her chest. “Congratulations, Angel.”

He gave a dramatic bow. “Thank you, thank you. Please, don’t feel like you have to hold your fuckin’ applause.”

She laughed. “I think I still will.” She saw the way he was shaking his head at her and stepped in to hug him. “I’m happy for you, ‘manito.”

He kissed the side of her head. “Thanks.” Pulling back, he looked at the wristlet she was still wearing from her meeting with April. “Really, though. You think you could, uh, maybe stitch this—”

“Angel Ignacio. You’re not actually—”

“Just if you had some fuckin’ time, I don’t know!”

She shook her head. “I don’t. I don’t have time. Here,” she plucked a needle form her wristlet and quickly went back and grabbed a spool of thread that would be tough enough to stitch his patch on effectively and handed it to him, “This should do just fine. Won’t take you very long.” She heard and saw the way EZ was laughing and quickly turned her attention on him. “Don’t laugh too hard, Prospect. A title flash is easy—wait ‘til you need to stitch on your bottom rocker.”

It got EZ’s laughter to stop and Angel’s to pick up. He walked over, roughly shoving his shoulder against EZ’s. “Yeah, what she said. Shut the fuck—”

“That’s not what I said,” Evangeline cut him off with a laugh.

Angel waved her off. “Close enough.”

It took a few moments for all of them to stop laughing. Once they did, Evangeline asked, “You going next door to tell Pops now?”

Angel shook his head. “Nah.”

Evangeline sighed. “Angel—”

He knew where she was going next so he stopped her before she could start. Turning to look at EZ, he said, “We do gotta ask him about delivering to the clubhouse though. Cater the celebration.” He returned his attention back to his sister. “This one you actually gotta show up for. Since it’s for me.” He grinned.

EZ laughed. “It’s not just—”

Angel held his hand up. “Shut it, Prospect.” He raised his eyebrows. “You gonna come through?”

“I don’t—”

“It’s Friday! Not even a work night!”

She tilted her head in confusion. “That’s still a work night for me, you know.”

He let out the type of groan someone would expect from a petulant child not getting their way. “Come on, Eva. It’s gonna be a good time. Other charters coming through and shit.”

Normally she made it a habit not to hang around the clubhouse too often. She had no bad blood towards the club, not really. Everyone was just doing what they knew how to do in order to get from one day to the next. She was no different than them in that regard—her means were just different than theirs. She didn’t hold it against them but she also wasn’t going to let it upend the life she had been working very hard for years to create for herself.

Her guest appearances were rare. Every now and then if one of her brothers had needed something she would stop by. Sometimes she wouldn’t even go past the main office for the scrapyard, leaving whatever she’d brought with Chucky and a note. She could count on one hand the number of parties that she could say that she really went to. The look in Angel’s eyes had her thinking that that miniscule number was about to go up by one.

“I’m gonna be late,” she finally conceded after a few more seconds of silence, “’cause I’ve got some stuff I’ll need to catch up on but—”

Angel was already hugging her and laughing. “That’s what I thought!” He let her go and started to backpedal towards the door. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to work. Gonna go tell Pops we need him Friday too.” He looked at EZ and nodded towards the door. “C’mon, he ain’t gonna say yes unless you’re the one asking.”

EZ chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll catch up in a sec.”

Angel opened the door, calling back to his sister, “Love you!”

“You better!” Evangeline was still shaking her head at him even when he was out of sight. She walked the rest of the way back to take the purple dress off its hanger and put it on the dress form to start working. She was lowering herself down to the floor to get started when she said, “What’s on your mind, Ezekiel?”

He shrugged, hands holding the edges of his kutte as he walked back to her. “Nothin’. Now I’m just stressing about having to stitch on my rocker in a few months.”

Evangeline laughed. “If you’re really up a creek with it maybe I’ll help.” She paused, still not looking directly at him as she reiterated, “But really, what’s going on?”

He paused as he tried to figure out how to go about trying to start the conversation that he wanted to have. “If you don’t wanna go…”

She looked up at him for a moment. “Angel’s very excited. I don’t have a problem showing up for a little while for him. It’s fine—I don’t need you to give me a pass.”

“You’re not excited though.”

She allowed herself to fully plop down on the floor. She kept her legs bent so that she could drape her arms across her knees. “I…I’m glad that it’s going well for him. For both of you, actually. I know that this,” she made a vague gesture towards his kutte, “is what you’ve both chosen to do. And you’re apparently very good at it. I’m glad you found something together.”

“Yeah but you’d rather—”

“There’s no rather,” she cut him off but made sure to keep her tone calm. “We’re all grown, EZ. We’ve,” she chuckled, “we’ve been grown. You should know that better than…” she trailed off. “We’re all just doing what we have to do to be okay. I’m not going to start holding that against you or Angel now.”

“Really?”

Evangeline was too smart to take the bait that was packed into his tone. She gave a simple nod and a small smile. “Really.” Before he could try to push her farther, she gestured towards the door. “Angel was right—he’s gonna need your help getting Pop to agree to play caterer for you guys.”

He frowned for a moment, not expecting the dismissal. “Right.” He started to back up towards the door. “See you Friday then.”

She nodded, still offering a smile. “You will.” She watched as he turned and walked. “Ezekiel?”

He paused at the door, fingers wrapped around the handle but he didn’t push as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Love you.”

The frustration disappeared from his face, at least for the moment. “Love you.”

Mayans Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!):

@garbinge @withmyteeth @darqchilddaydreamz @artemiseamoon @proceduralpassion

@justreblogginfics @narcolini @cositapreciosa @fanfic-n-tabulous

[fitgothgirl]

[Just sorting some thoughts about barbacking/bartending as a second job]

Ever since I refreshed my resume and printed out some copies to go give out at bars, I haven't done anything with them; they're still just sitting in my drawer. I often think about how I should make a plan to go out and apply but I haven't been able to follow through (and btw, going out in-person and giving someone my physical resume, and even being ready to possibly do a working interview, is the way to go for this type of job - at least with the types of bars I'd want to work at; not looking for chains like Dave & Busters and whatnot).

But yeah I'm honestly nervous for a few reasons... For one, just the putting yourself out there part. 😅 Two, getting a second job as an actual employee, as opposed to Doordash, is a much more of a commitment. I can't just decide to not work one day. I'm sure that at times I'm going to have to work when I feel shitty. I'm going to struggle to get dates off that I want, and I'll likely be most in-demand on the days I have off from my regular job (the weekend, holidays). Etc. Plus the whole "second" job thing in the first place... But my situation is what it is. And not only is it a commitment, but three, I'd be going back to a service job for the first time since I graduated college, i.e. 7 years ago. I did do admin/front desk stuff at the physical therapy place, but that's pretty different. But in my teens and early 20s, I did 10 years of jobs in food service and retail, so I definitely remember a lot of what the deal is. I know there are things I enjoyed and even miss about it, but I definitely remember the stressors and tribulations too. But at the same time, four, I feel like working at a bar is getting into a slightly different/adjacent industry; it's on another level than just "food service" and there's definitely going to be a learning curve, especially if I'm wanting to eventually bartend. (🤑) Not to mention that regardless, it's been 7 years since I've done a service job in the first place, and I'm sure things work differently overall now. Also part of the adjustment would be that five - even if I just work 1 or 2 days a week, the hours will be late. I don't mind being up late, but I know I'll have to take it into consideration with my day job and everything. Even if I work Friday/Saturday night, it'll still affect my sleep.

I'm not trying to talk myself out of it, I swear lol. In fact it's kind of a testament to me legitimately being drawn to this industry, but not even because I like to drink (regardless, I can't imagine doing a fast-paced/flow job like this with even a buzz); like I said there are things about the service industry I miss, like how good it feels at the end of of a shift from a physical job. I really feel like I worked. And it can be fun a lot of the time too; it's overall more casual and light-hearted. Etc. I've just always been interesting this type of job. I love watching Bar Rescue lol, which definitely shows a range of situations.... I love the thought of learning cocktails and how to pour (and maybe some cool moves? lmao) - just general mixology. I love the energy of the environment and the vibes, I really feel like I soak it up even though I'm definitely an introvert; high-energy environments like that can be like a stimulant for me (up to a point of course). I love the fact that it's an adults-only activity to let loose - exactly the things you're not supposed to talk about at "regular" jobs or even pretend you don't do lol. I love the thought of getting to just be myself and not worrying about being all proper/professional in most ways.

Aafs;ldjk;asjfkajsd. Just letting the thoughts flow right now, not trying to come to any sort of conclusion.

My car's registration is due the day after tomorrow and boy that is a great reminder for all of this lol......

[hsvh-hp]

Hi! Thanks for all the responses -- I hadn't realized how many chapters I'd gotten through since your last round until I saw the emails lmao

I was wondering, in regards to this:

And omg, I totally feel you on being a trans person in the HP fandom. It's very weird how my tumblr dash is set up. I have mutuals still from old fandoms who are queer, and I feel so ostracized from them at times when they toe the line of 'anybody in the HP fandom supports JKR, you're a bad person if you're still engaging with it'. I'll spare you the essay on why I disagree with that, but oddly the safest place I feel on the internet as a trans person is in the HP fandom. Which is weird at face value, I suppose, given what JKR is doing, but we really are separate from her. I've yet to see substantial evidence that fandom, which is infamous for generating zero revenue, is floating trans peoples' demise. It's just a thought crime, I guess.

if you would, perhaps, not spare me the essay? lol

I feel the same sort of ostracization which is especially frustrating when I am in such "thought crimes are fake!" circles, and I'm interested in your perspective, if you want to give it!

Sure, I’ll offer my perspective on it! This is probably best broken down into bullet points:

1. JKR was already a billionaire before she came out as a TERF.

There is nothing in the world that will change this status. Even if every single person currently engaging with her various IPs immediately dropped them, JKR would still have a billion plus dollars to drop on anti-trans movements and whatever. A billion dollars is immensely difficult to picture. The easiest way is to think like this: if you make $50,000 a year, the equivalent of her dropping $75,000 the other day is you spending $3.75. How often do you spend 0.0075% of your income and give it any thought? JKR’s wealth is not directly tied to ‘levels of fandom engagement’.

Which leads to…

2. Boycotts don’t work.

Sorry. They don’t. Not against someone this politically powerful. If they did, the flood of people out of the HP fandom in 2020 would have had a measurable effect. What did have a measurable effect? People not going to watch the Fantastic Beast movies (because they were hot trash lmao). Not giving JKR any more money works in the sense that it cripples her future projects, but it has zero effect on what’s already in her purse.

Also, think of boycotts this way: wasn’t it hilarious watching conservatives try to boycott the Barbie movie, Nike, Bud Light, and whatever else they’ve systematically locked on to? But so then why do progressives/the left/whoever think it’s going to work the other way? Like with Hogwarts Legacy? Just don’t interact with the media, dude. And if you do, pirate it.

3. Fandom is not mainstream. I have never seen any data to substantiate that participating in a fandom directly correlates to dollars for the IP. Copyright literally prevents that from happening. To bring up to popular saying, “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism”, fandom exists outside of capitalism—for me, at least, as a fan fiction writer. This is a hobby to me. I have never seen a red cent for any of the hours of work I’ve put into my fics.

And I can probably guarantee that no one has stumbled upon Harry Potter through me, lol. They didn’t read one of my fics and go, ‘you know, I should check out what source material this is coming from’. Harry Potter is so well-known that there’s no way they came in blind.

Also, the TERF discourse is very much an online thing. I work retail irl and I’ve had conversations with customers who’ll say “you know, I really don’t get all this hubbub against trans people” but are too boomer to be anything more than tangentially aware that Harry Potter is a Thing. Like, ‘oh yeah, my kids read those books when they were coming out, but I never bothered’. One of my employees bought a set of the HP books because they were on a wicked deal at Costco, and when we were discussing it I told her that while I still enjoyed HP, I wasn’t comfortable giving JKR more money because she’s extremely transphobic and donates a lot of money to anti-trans causes. My employee was horrified and said that had she known that, she wouldn’t have bought the books. Lots of people just don’t know!

Which takes me to…

4. This type of online activism isn’t effective.

I’m talking specifically about being anti-Harry Potter or anti-JKR. Falling into those two categories does not automatically make you pro-trans. This was pretty blatantly obvious back when the books were being burned for promoting witchcraft. As far as fighting for trans peoples’ rights, screaming until you’re blue in the face about how anybody who engages with Harry Potter is a traitor and JKR BAD is wasting time better spent doing something productive - something that could actually benefit trans people rather than…I don’t know…virtue signalling that their blog or twitter account is a safe space?

5. I personally do not feel welcomed or vouched for by these people.

Listen, I’m going to break myself down into all my stupid little categories. I’m trans. Autistic. Intersex. Aromantic. Asexual. Basically, all the things that people love to try and cast out of the queer community, whether that means they’re trying to split LGBTQIA+ at the T or Q.

The anti-Harry Potter stuff, as far as attacking the fandom, feels like the latest strain of purity politics to me. As I’ve laid out above, abandoning HP will not right the wrongs of JKR in any measurable or tangible way. Boycotts don’t work. Fandom does not feed JKR’s coffers, and destroying the fandom will not cripple her. There are trans people inside the HP fandom, and what of us? Are we traitors? Are we not ‘really’ trans, because obviously we don’t care about the current political climate? Are we just confused and need to be enlightened as to what harm we’re doing? Where have I heard this rhetoric before?

One small thing, tangentially related:

6. I don’t care what JKR says about how engaging with Harry Potter tells her about who her ‘supporters’ are.

Seriously? She’s a lying dirtbag, and I’m just supposed to take her word on this? This is the one thing she just so happens to be right about?

When she started spouting TERF shit, I was really saddened by the writers who, upon leaving the fandom, also deleted their works in protest. Seeing as the majority of the HP fandom is queer, I’m sure that JKR was very pleased with the amount of queer media erasure that occurred. Why did we do that for her?

7. I believe JKR actually seethes and malds over the prospect of her fandom being queer and producing queer content.

As a writer, there’s a special kind of pain that comes from someone not quite interpreting your work the way you would have wanted them to. What do you think JKR’s first reaction was when she first learned about the Harry/Draco ship? The Draco/Hermione ship? If she didn’t live in a stone castle, I bet she would’ve punched a hole in the wall.

So, yeah. Transing and gaying all of her characters is a pretty nice way to get to her in a way that she can’t legally or financially retaliate. Every time she screams ‘WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!’ at the queer people in her fandom, a trans person’s crops are watered.

8. The HP setting is very welcoming to trans people.

Potions exist that can change your body. Enough said.

That the Harry Potter books never really says anything specifically about trans people (NOTE: obviously JKR’s prejudices even back then showed through, but this isn’t about that) leaves the question on the table. Obviously trans people exist in the Harry Potter setting, because they exist everywhere. So, how did they never get any page time?

Well, who says they didn’t? In a setting where potions exist to change your body, trans people are just…people. I don’t even think that they would have a marginalized identity because gender dysphoria would be something very easily treated. Think of it like someone who takes medication for blood pressure. They need the medication, it’s life-saving, and while there isn’t a magical pill to ‘cure’ high blood pressure, it can be managed. The magical world revels in being strange. Why would being trans, while being considered strange here in the ‘Muggle’ world, be anything other than normal there? Why can’t it be?

And then there are Metamorphmagi. People who can literally change themselves at will! If that isn’t a trans person’s dream, I don’t know what is. I would personally love the option of being the biggest, hairiest dude with a dick so big an erection would make me black out, and then ultra femme and delicate the next.

Last on this point, Harry never notes anyone specifically trans in the text (NOTE: touching on things like the physical descriptions of Rita Skeeter and Marge Dursley, JKR tends to do the ugly=bad person thing. Although she describes Rita and Marge as mannish in appearance, they aren’t trans characters. They’re women that JKR wants to frame as bad people. Like I said above, this is JKR’s prejudice showing through). If Harry never notes anyone as specifically trans, that probably means that it’s impossible to tell at face value. The same as blood pressure medication, to return to that analogy. How do you know someone is on them? They tell you. You see the pill bottle and happen to know what that medication is for. They complain about side effects. They complain about the symptoms that led them going to the doctor in the first place.

9. Queer HP fandom content can potentially be how a Harry Potter fan realizes that they’re queer (or that queer people are just regular folks).

Hey, the first one happened to me!

If someone comes into the Harry Potter fandom unaware of JKR’s politics - maybe they were gifted the books for their birthday or happened to catch the movies on TV - it’s good actually that this person doesn’t fall right into an echo chamber of JKR’s politics. I’ll be happily here to correct her record in a way that isn’t shaming or policing them.

Anyway, I think that’s everything lol. To summarize:

- The HP Fandom is a neutral setting. Engaging with it doesn’t help JKR, and not engaging with it doesn’t help trans people. Just don’t spend money on official HP merch.

- If you want to be a pro-trans activist or trans political ally, please just ignore JKR and put all your focus on the real world.

- There are trans people in the HP fandom who are left feeling awkward and uncomfortable due to virtue signalling.

- Generating queer HP content is good, actually.

[tingerines]

Pairing: Azul x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: The reader in this is not Yuu. I went way too ham at 2 A.M. and ended up writing 11.6k words, so enjoy my descend into fluffy madness lmao.

Everyday life as a librarian is as mundane as you can get within the walls of Night Raven College. With the exceptions of the occasional ruckus caused by groups of college students — mainly Floyd — or Crowley coming to offer yet another deal that you can’t seem to refuse, the library serves as a quiet haven for those who can’t find it elsewhere; you included.

At first you weren’t sure what you wanted to do here, or what you could do here. You’d spent the last couple of months just cramming as much History of Magic knowledge as you could into your brain, simply trying to make sense of the new world that you were in, without giving much thought to how you could fit in if you weren’t going home anytime soon. So, it comes to no surprise that once that was done and over with, you found yourself with way too much free time on your hands.

It’s when you’re in the midst of a particularly rowdy lunch, that your friend Epel mentions a new job opening at the library on-campus. He’d insisted that you apply, explaining that the library was in desperate need of someone that has competent knowledge of literature and you were perfect for the job.

You were hesitant at first, mostly because you were shy and quiet — especially in public settings — and that’s why you gave up trying to befriend more people here. But Epel reasoned it wouldn’t be too bad, or busy, at all because he would be helping you out. Plus, Vil told him that the practice would help him get used to speaking “properly”. So, you applied for the position.

Now you’ve found yourself working at the library for a little over half a year already, and Epel was right: working at the library wasn’t all that difficult. While he offers to deal with inquiring students all day — just to save you the anxiety of having to do so yourself — you’re left to acquire, classify, and catalog materials away from their prying eyes.

Today’s arrangement is no different.

You’ve just finished cataloging this week’s new batch of books, and after carefully stacking them onto your handy-dandy book cart, you head over to the elevator to the second floor. The doors slide apart with a quiet ding! to announce your arrival before you push the book cart to the first set of bookshelves labeled “Fiction: 001 - 200.09”, all the while nodding your head and mumbling polite greetings to the people you pass by.

Your hands busy themselves by putting the books into their respective spots, first alphabetically then by call numbers. You’re halfway through your stacks when someone gently taps on your shoulder, causing you to jump in surprise before you turn around to see Epel standing there.

“Uh… yes?” you ask, clearing your throat as you straighten up and fiddle with the hem of your sweater.

“Could you work the front today? I’m exhausted,” Epel runs a hand through his hair as he sighs in exasperation.

You squint your eyes at him and try to figure out if he’s simply trying to trick you into socializing, but the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched tells you otherwise. Rather reluctantly, you nod in agreement to his request, “I guess so. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect working at a library to be the same experience as working retail. Like, excuse me, we sent you the notification that your books were overdue. Don’t yell at me because you didn’t pay attention and now you have to pay the fees, sir,” Epel slams his hand down the top of a book as he emphasizes the last word, the loud sound making you jump.

Epel begins to shove books into the empty slots of the bookshelf, not truly caring if they belong there or not. You can’t help but wince as you watch him do so, the feeling you’re experiencing is like watching someone try to drink soup broth with a fork: it’s just not right.

“Okay, Epel, I’m heading to the front then.”

At this point, the man doesn’t even hear you anymore; too busy in his own thoughts cursing at the disrespect he’s been shown and taking out his frustrations on the bundle of papers in his hands. You turn on your heels before you can change your mind and tell Epel to get the heck away from your precious books and make your way back down to the checkout counter on the first floor.

It’s quiet for a Friday afternoon. Usually you’d expect a small crowd of students to trudge in, their backpacks heavy with textbooks and eye bags as dark as a cloudy sky. Sometimes you miss the days when you used to be like that too; even though it was difficult you made a lot of fond memories that made it all bearable.

You situate yourself on the worn-out leather office chair Epel usually occupies, the backrest creaking a bit too loudly for your liking when you lean against it.

Maybe you can strike up a deal with Crowley to get a new one later. No, scratch that idea — you never know what that man wants in return.

The computer in front of you is just starting to boot up when the entrance of the library swings open, causing your gaze to shift out of curiosity.

Your eyes land on the figure of an attractive young man dressed in the classic NRC school uniform, the purple ribbon secured to his left arm showcasing that he’s a part of the Octavinelle dorm. You can’t shake the feeling that you know this man from somewhere, but you also can’t quite put your finger on where.

Feeling eyes on him, the man turns his head towards you and gives you a polite smile when you make eye contact. You can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment from being caught staring, and you avert your eyes almost immediately — opting to stare at the brightly lit computer screen instead.

“Excuse me,” the man calls out, and you think to yourself that his soft-spoken voice matches his angelic appearance very well.

“Yes?” you answer after a few moments of silence, reluctantly glancing up.

As the man approaches the checkout counter, you can’t help but to stare at him with slightly widened eyes and a thin-lipped smile. It must look like you’re in pain to him — in this case, your pain is just downright embarrassment — but you were always one to have your emotions and thoughts written all over your face, so you couldn’t hide it even if you’d wanted to.

“Is Epel out today?” the man asks as he rests his hands on the counter and his eyes scan the space behind you.

“‘Epel’?” you echo your friend’s name, your expression quickly changing into one of confusion. “No, he's here… why?”

“Oh, no reason. He’s just usually the one to be sitting here so I was just wondering,” the man chuckles while shaking his head, a finger pressed to the bridge of his glasses to keep them from moving.

“Okay…” your voice trails off as you weren’t sure what to say next.

Is it usual for Epel to make small talk with everyone? You have to commend him for being able to do that every day with who knows how many people when you can barely think of what to say to this one person. He must have sensed how uncomfortable you feel, because the man takes a step backwards towards the staircase with his thumb pointing over his shoulder.

“I'm guessing he’s upstairs, so I’ll go there,” he announces before giving you another smile, this one more unsettling than the last. “I’ll see you later. Have a great evening.”

You wave goodbye to the man and give him a small, less awkward smile back, watching as he turns and speed walks up the stairs as if someone is chasing him. The smile doesn’t leave your face even after he’s disappeared from your view.

“Of course he would see me later. He has to pass by the checkout counter to leave the library anyways,” you think as you focus your attention back to the computer screen.

On display is a website with the daily list of upcoming school events a.k.a. your number one resource of finding which areas of the school you should avoid like the plague. Your eyes spot a familiar name: Mostro Lounge, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Is there ever a time this place isn’t up to no good?” you wonder aloud to yourself as you click on the direct link provided to learn more about the newest event.

If you’re being completely honest, there’s no real reason you feel so negatively towards the Octavinelle restaurant. You’d merely heard rumors from Ace and Deuce when they practically bet their livelihoods to the housewarden for good exam scores, and you decided to avoid the place on the off chance that you get suckered into another bad deal.

You stare at the screen for a few seconds once the browser finally refreshes before rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

“No way,” you lean closer to the screen while eyeing it in disbelief.

According to the webpage, the Mostro Lounge is holding a promotion for the next week and a percentage of the profits will be donated to the library. You scroll further down to see if there was any other information provided, stopping when a particular headshot catches your eye.

“No way!” you repeat louder this time, your mouth hanging open from the shock that hits you.

“‘No way’ what? Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks, causing your head to snap up.

You can only shake your head wordlessly as Epel approaches the checkout counter, empty book cart in hand. He pauses, an eyebrow raised as he questions you impatiently, “well, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“T— this… Epel, you—” you manage to stammer out incoherent words as you look back and forth between the screen and your friend, a finger pointed accusingly at him. “Have you made a deal with the Octavinelle housewarden?”

“Who, Azul?” Epel’s face is full of confusion when you mention the man’s name. “Why do you ask?”

You shoot up from your seat and turn the computer screen around, and Epel leans forward to look at whatever it is you keep aggressively tapping at. It’s only then that it crosses his mind that he hadn’t told you about the deal Crowley and Azul had made.

“Oh, right. So, uh… about that,” Epel starts off slowly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to keep the guilt from showing on his face. Just like you, Epel has a hard time masking the emotion on his face. “Azul has apparently been complaining that there’s a lack of useful books here during one of the Housewarden Meetings; so the Headmage agreed to allow him to choose our next couple batches as long as he pitches in.”

“What in the Sevens is a ‘useful book’ in his standards?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration, side-eyeing the endless shelves of books you spend every day organizing.

“Books that will help him fulfill his end of his contracts, of course. Probably for potions like the one that he makes for Vil’s skincare,” Epel speaks matter-of-factly before he turns back to the book cart, humming a show tune while strolling away to the storage room behind you.

Leave it to Epel to be so nonchalant about anything and everything.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your heart that you didn’t realize was racing from adrenaline, your body slowly sinking back down onto the office chair with a short creak.

Meanwhile Azul is on the second floor, leaning against the wooden railing as he observes you curiously. Of course Azul is aware of the reputation he’s built around himself: a man capable of granting any wish, though the price is steep. One should be wary when agreeing to enter a contract with him. With such a reputation, he would have expected you to know who he was as soon as he walked in, but apparently you never knew what he looked like in the first place.

Secretly, he likes that fact: there’s someone who exists who doesn’t merely seek him out for their own needs. Not that you were seeking him out in the first place, which also stings.

Azul, please make up your mind.

Azul smiles to himself as he pushes his body away from the railing, turning to eye the multiple bookshelves around him as an idea comes to mind. Since it didn’t seem that you like to converse with strangers, he’ll have to find another way to befriend you.

And so, half an hour later, he finds himself standing at the checkout counter, a satisfied smile on his face as he glances down at the stack of books in his arms.

“Are you ready to check out?” you ask, a polite tone to your voice, as you look up from the computer.

Your smile falters for just a second when you see Azul standing in front of you, the sight of the Octavinelle symbol filling you with a sense of dread. 

Be nice, y/n, it’s not like it’s his fault you’re going to be working overtime for the next foreseeable future.

You clear your throat before shifting the chair around, your hands stretched out to take the books from Azul. He merely shakes his head and carefully sets the pile down on the counter before leaning side to side to make sure none of the books have shifted.

“Have a good day, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he lightly taps the top of the book pile with his fingertips, drawing your attention away from him and to the books before he steps out of the library.

You furrow your eyebrows, your lips curved into a frown as you ponder whether or not you’ve told him your name yet. You decide that you must have, it’s just that your memory’s getting worse as you get older. A sigh escapes your lips at the thought, your still outstretched hands pulling the books Azul left behind towards you so you could put them back where they belong.

“He’s definitely not checking these back in; he wasn’t even carrying any books when he came in earlier. But then why would he bring them here if he wasn’t planning on borrowing them?” you think and eye the books curiously, your chin sandwiched between your fingers.

Hello, Sunshine by [redacted] It’s a Beautiful Day by [redacted] Introduction by [redacted] Humans by [redacted] Peach by [redacted] How to Make Friends for Dummies by [redacted]

You furrow your eyebrows while thinking to yourself that Azul has — well, not strange — but definitely an interestingly wide taste in book genres. But the thought quickly goes away when you give the books a second glance, now wondering if the stranger was trying to give you a secret message through… book spines?

“Hey, Epel!” you call out, not moving your gaze away from the books as if they might disappear if you look away.

“What?!” Epel’s muffled voice answers from the storage room.

“Could you come here for a sec?”

You hear the click of a door opening behind you followed by the shuffling of feet as Epel makes his way over to you. You gather the books into your arms before turning in the chair to face Epel.

“Look, look. What’s this?” you nudge the pile towards Epel.

“Uh… books?” Epel crosses his arms before looking down at the items in your arms with an unimpressed look. “Is this some kind of trick question?”

You roll your eyes at his sassy tone and nudge the books even closer, “no, Epel. Someone left these here. Look at the titles.”

“Huh,” Epel huffs, eyes carefully scanning the titles as he's told to. “What about them?”

“I’m not sure. Is this supposed to be a message or what?” you can’t help the impatient tone that creeps into your voice as you drop the books onto your lap.

Epel gently bites his thumb as he ponders it for a bit. Some of the students here did have some unconventional ways of communicating sometimes. That was apparent from the way Rook asked Epel for help with an Alchemy project last month: by sliding a heart-shaped sticky note under his dorm room door at 4 A.M..

“Yeah, it could be,” Epel finally answers you with a shrug. “Why don’t you try giving them a response? The worst-case scenario is you got it wrong.”

And with that suggestion, Epel leaves you alone again; but not before giving you a, what you assume is supposed to be reassuring, pat on the shoulder.

“Maybe I should,” you think as you glance down at the stacks of books once more, a shy smile creeping onto your face.

❥

The next morning, you enter the library with a feeling of anticipation that you haven’t felt in a long time. You spent a good chunk of last night thinking of how to properly respond to Azul’s message: should you use book spines like he did? Or perhaps try a blackout poem?

You decided on the latter but didn’t have the heart to color inside a book or rip out a page. As a compromise, you wrote out a page of Azul’s first book on a separate piece of paper instead. And that paper is currently tucked into the back pocket of your pants, awaiting the right moment for you to pass it along to its intended receiver.

“Good morning, Epel,” you sing-song, almost skipping around the counter to give the man a hug.

“Morn— ah!” Epel yelps when he suddenly finds himself engulfed in your arms and he raises a hand hesitantly to pat your back, “nice to see you too? Someone’s happy this morning.”

“I am, I’m sorry,” you giggle, unwrapping your arms around the man before taking a step back, “can you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what,” Epel hums, his eyes narrowing because he should have known you weren’t being so nice for no reason. He watches as you shove your hands into your back pocket and pull out a piece of light pink paper folded into an origami peach fruit. His eyes cross when you hold it up a bit too close to his face. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Could you please give this to the stranger from last night?” you ask quietly while giving your friend your best puppy dog eyes.

He blinks, his gaze shifting between your face and the paper peach in front of him. He purses his lips before reluctantly nodding and snatching the paper out of your hands, “Okay… but I don’t even know who I’m looking for, so why can’t you do it yourself?”

“You know why,” your lips jut out into a pout while Epel shakes his head into his hands. “I can’t be there to look him in the eyes if I was actually wrong!”

“You’re actually hopeless, y/n. Maybe you should be meeting with Vil to work on your confidence.”

“I’ll hard pass on that one.”

“So, what’s he look like?”

“Fair-skinned. Beauty mark on the left side of his chin. Short, wavy grey hair. Oh, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s in Octavinelle.”

Epel peeks up at you from between his fingers, glad that his hands are hiding the shocked look on his face. Surely there’s no way that you’re actually describing Azul Ashengrotto without realizing it.

Speaking of the devil, the entrance to the library swings open and the aforementioned man comes striding in with a certain loud eel following closely behind.

Your body automatically straightens as you shoot daggers at the tall man, “Floyd, please try not to cause a disturbance today — and please leave Riddle alone.”

“Oh? I’m afraid you have the wrong brother,” the man chuckles, fist coming up to his lips as he shoots you a polite smile. “See the way this part of my hair curves to look like a ‘J’? That’s the easiest way to make out that I’m Jade.”

“Oh, Sevens. I’m so sorry,” your face begins to heat up in embarrassment once you take a closer look at the man. “I see you two so often, I can’t believe I’m still making that mistake.”

“No worries at all, it’s a common mistake. Housewarden Riddle will be safe to study in peace today.”

“Wonderful, then our heads are safe for today,” you place your hand on your chest and breathe a sigh of relief.

You then glance at the familiar man standing next to Jade with his hands nervously clenched together in front of him. You flash him a warm smile and a quick “good morning” before excusing yourself to the storage room.

No one within a five-feet radius could miss the way you waved aggressively at Epel as you walked away.

“Right,” Epel drawls once he hears the sound of a door click. He holds out the peach origami unceremoniously, his face screaming boredom when no one moves. “I believe this is for you.”

“My, my, you have great craftsmanship, Epel,” Jade smiles again, leaning in to study the pink paper in the other’s hand.

“I didn’t make it, y/n did. And it’s not for you,” Epel rolls his eyes, shifting his hands towards Azul’s direction.

Azul’s expression is a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. First, surprise from you understanding the message he had conveyed from the books last night. He admittedly had never done something like that before, and didn’t have enough time to go scavenger hunting for the right books.

Second, embarrassment from having been discovered in front of one of the twins. There’s no way this isn’t going to reach Floyd’s ears and he’ll have to mentally prepare himself for a royal tease storm later.

Azul clears his throat and ignores the way Jade’s eyes follow him curiously when he takes a few steps forward to grab the paper from Epel, “thank you for this.”

“I must have missed a couple chapters here,” Jade comments in amusement. “Would you care to share?”

“Absolutely not, Jade.”

❥

It’s not until Azul is in the safety from prying eyes of the V.I.P. room that Azul finally decides to read what you’ve given him.

He picks up the paper peach delicately like it is his mother’s fine china, turning it over and over between his fingers to study your origami work.

It’s a shame I have to ruin this, Azul thinks to himself as he gingerly unfolds your note. He stares at the long thick lines of black drawn on the page, mentally reading the words that were purposely made legible.

[illegible] It’s nice to meet you, [illegible] You have [illegible] a beautiful smile [illegible] I like [illegible] your [illegible] books.

A few more lines of black.

I’m sorry [illegible] It’s a bit awkward, but [illegible] See you soon.

Azul rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, an amused smile appearing on his face as he re-reads your note.

“They’re certainly creative,” he mutters to himself as he follows the creases of the paper to re-fold your origami peach, ideas already popping into his mind as a feeling of anticipation similar to yours bubbles up inside of him.

Thus, begins your unique form of communication with the housewarden.

On the night the promotion is to begin at Mostro Lounge, Azul drops yet another pile of books for you at the checkout counter. His lips are curved up to a rare timid smile as Epel stares at him from his seat, “I assume these aren’t for yourself.”

“Um… no,” Azul rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“I’ll make sure y/n gets this,” Epel can’t help but laugh at the expression on Azul’s face as he slides the books closer to himself. “Why do you look like that? I’m not judging you.”

“I know you aren’t!” Azul quickly retorts, his voice rising slightly in defense. “It’s just… I feel a little weird. We’ve never spoken more than a handful of words to each other, but now I'm getting excited to talk to them like this…”

Epel waves his hand in the air dismissively, “trust me: even I’m surprised at how things are unfolding between the two of you.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t told them who I am yet.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m just glad y/n’s finally opening up and making new friends,” Epel says plainly before sticking his tongue out at the older man. “No matter how suspicious the new friend could be.”

Before Azul could question him further, Jade appears by his side, whispering into his ear that they will need to return to the lounge soon. Azul reluctantly excuses himself and follows his vice-housewarden back to the Hall of Mirror.

It’s the busiest that you’ve ever seen the library, watching from the safety of the opened door to the storage room as an endless circulation of people come in and out the door. In the crowd, you catch a momentary glimpse of Azul’s warm smile just before he left. The mere sight of it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach and you tiptoe over to the counter where Epel is situated hoping to catch another glimpse of it.

You immediately hear a soft shuffling sound coming from beneath you and it causes you to look down. There lies yet another stack of books, and you give Epel a questioning glance though his eyes remain glued to the scene in front of him. Did he expect you to put these back? Right now?

When you bend down to grab the books, you almost want to facepalm yourself for being such an idiot. Because there laid yet another message from Azul; this one shorter than the last.

The Sun Says Hello by [redacted] Thank You by [redacted] You Are Beautiful by [redacted] Look Below by [redacted]

Look below? you think before following the instructions and literally looking down, but only seeing your feet. Of course, that’s not it. What about…?

You lift the pile of books off the table, a grin appearing on your face when you see a folded piece of paper where the books once were. You glance over to where you last saw Azul and can’t help but wonder if this is how the characters in romance novels felt; the nervousness of passing each other a new secret message, the anxiety of wondering if they’ve said the right thing, the excitement of awaiting a response, and the exhilaration of the whole process.

You gently pat your warming cheeks with your hands and snap yourself out of your brief thoughts. With a shake of your head, you take the note and make your way back to the storage room before closing the door behind you.

“You need to get out more,” you say aloud to yourself, referring to your ridiculous thoughts of comparing your humdrum life to a romance novel.

You click your tongue in disapproval, your hands busy unfolding Azul’s note to read the contents written inside.

Y/n, I’m sorry if this was too corny. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by approaching you directly. Thank you for your response, I really wasn’t expecting it. You guys have so many books here that it’d take a long time for me to find the ones I need to send another book spine message. I mean, not that that’s a bad thing! I hope you don’t mind a good old fashion letter though. Why don’t we share quotes from our favorite books instead? That way I don't have to trouble you and make you put back the books I took. I’m curious to know what kinds of literature you like to read. I’ll go first. “He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy - Azul Ashengrotto

You feel like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets from how suddenly they grew wide, “Wha— you mean, like, the Octavinelle Housewarden Azul?!”

❥

A few weeks pass by with more than a handful of letters being exchanged between you and Azul; though, truthfully, you were tempted to stop your correspondence once you were aware of Azul’s identity.

“Eh, why? Did he say something wrong?” Epel had inquired when you came to him for advice once again.

“Well, no, but he did put Ace and Deuce into a predicament, so…”

“They kind of had that coming for opting to cheat instead of just studying like we did.”

“You sound just like Jack.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. What else?”

“Uh, because of the dang promotion he’s doing, we’re going to be a lot busier than usual.”

“Y/n. We work in a library — located on-campus, might I add. And it’s almost finals season,” Epel looks about ready to throw a book at you so maybe that’ll knock some sense into you.

“Okay… but what if this is just a ploy to get me to sign my livelihood away in some contract?”

“Azul’s a straightforward business man. He definitely wouldn’t be wasting his time like this just for a contract.”

You paused and thought through Epel’s words for a moment. It did make sense: why would Azul be spending his precious free time to entertain you in this way if he could’ve simply approached you with a salesman’s pitch?

You felt guilty for immediately assuming that his intentions were bad. Afterall, your only experience with the man outside of this long exchange was from word of mouth. Not to mention that his restaurant promotion was beneficial to both the library and the students.

“Okay, you may have a good point. Several good points, in fact,” you sigh in defeat.

In the beginning, both you and Azul had to badger Epel to pass along secret letters to the other person; and the requests were almost always followed with a look of utter displeasure.

There was more than one occasion where Epel was tempted to just lock the two of you inside the storage room until you would eventually talk.

Luckily for all three of you, he never had to resort to that.

There eventually came a point when you felt comfortable enough to approach Azul first, and he would always welcome you with a heart-stopping smile; one that would leave your cheeks feeling warm and catch your words in your throat. If the man knew the effect that he had on you, he was certainly gracious enough not to show it.

In his free time, Azul likes to stroll around the library with you. While it’s usually in a comfortable silence, he’ll sometimes ask you to elaborate on things from your last correspondences.

Other times, he’ll ask you to proofread his contracts or ask for your ideas on how he can improve sales at Monstro Lounge — things he usually either did himself or asked for Jade’s assistance. You always tell him that you’re not qualified enough to give him such advice, but he always insists anyway.

Just like that, you learn more about each other and your tastes in literature than you would have with anyone else.

Today Azul arrives at the library just as you’re finishing up your afternoon tasks. You rush over to the checkout counter as soon as you see him come in, the warm, welcoming smile on your face immediately lifting his spirits.

“Hi, Azul! Welcome back,” you call out to the man, waving at him with your free hand while the other is clutching a clipboard full of inventory paperwork.

“Hi, y/n,” Azul’s lips quirk up into his signature sweet smile that doesn’t betray the quick beating of his heart. “How was your day?”

“Tiring… but I kind of like seeing the new faces around here so I don’t mind that trade-off,” you answer, referring to the influx of students scrambling to prepare for finals at every available corner of the building.

“I’m glad that you’re starting to warm up to strangers,” Azul chuckles, his hand reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. You stare up at Azul with widened eyes, and he stares back with his hand slightly trembling; clearly you both are surprised by the affectionate gesture.

Azul suddenly clears his throat, breaking you both out of your momentary trance as he pulls his hand away. Even if he didn’t plan on showing his affection as such, he couldn’t deny that he’s started to develop romantic feelings for you.

That's why he came today, so he could finally ask you something that he’d been delaying for the past week or so.

“So, anyways,” Azul starts, and you can hear the subtle tone of nervousness in his voice.

You watch with furrowed eyebrows as Azul slips a strap of his backpack off his shoulders and unzips the largest pocket. After a few seconds of digging around, Azul finally flourishes a handful of books that he holds out towards you with the spines purposefully facing away.

“What’re these for?” you ask curiously, though you don’t wait for an answer before taking the books from Azul and clutching them to your chest. “Are we going back to book spine messages now?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind,” Azul nods in confirmation before shrugging his backpack strap back on. He presses his lips into a thin line, eyes fixed to the floor beside you and cheeks a rosy tint as he asks, “um… I— I’ll get a reply before I leave today… right?”

“Of course, that’s been our routine for a while now,” you giggle as you find it quite adorable how shy Azul suddenly got, even if you don’t know the reason why yet.

“I’ll be waiting then,” Azul flashes an uncharacteristic half-smile before heading up to his usual writing spot on the second floor.

Although Azul seems to be acting strange today, you think that maybe he’s had a difficult time convincing Floyd to study today and has a headache. You roll your eyes at the thought while shaking your head and mumbling, “I’ll squeeze that eel twice as hard the next time I see him.”

With a loud sigh, you make your way around the checkout counter and plop down onto Epel’s vacant office chair with a familiar loud creak. You wince, bowing your head apologetically at the few people who turned towards the source of the sudden noise that disturbed their peace.

Once their attention is averted back to whatever they were doing before they were so rudely interrupted, you turn your attention back to the books Azul handed you earlier. The last time he gave you something like this was when he asked to start exchanging letters instead; so, you’re curious as to why he suddenly decided to change his method again.

You place the books on the counter in front of you, your clipboard and paperwork long forgotten underneath the stack.

Friday Nights by [redacted] Dinner Recipes by [redacted] Together by [redacted] If You’d Like To by [redacted]

You stare at the books with a dumbfounded expression, not wanting to jump into conclusions about its meaning; but what else could it mean besides Azul Ashengrotto asking you out to dinner this Friday night?

It suddenly makes sense why he was acting kind of shy earlier.

The thought makes you feel warm inside, and you have to hide the wide smile appearing on your face behind your hands.

You don’t want to wait until Azul leaves tonight to give him an answer, and you make up your mind almost right away to tell him your answer verbally — mostly because your brain is not comprehending what’s going on well enough to function properly and think of a creative response to his invitation.

You shake your head while patting your cheeks rather roughly, getting up from your seat carefully to not make any more unwanted noise.

Your feet rush you up the stairs to the second floor before you can talk yourself into chickening out, before you can change your mind, before—

The sight of Azul makes you stop in your tracks, your heart hammering wildly against your chest. Was it from seeing the person that you adore, or was it from the sudden rush of adrenaline? You honestly can’t tell anymore.

Azul is hunched over a short pile of papers — the lack of paper balls around him makes you think that he’s at least got a good start to his studying session — his cheek is resting against his fist as the other hand is busy writing away. His eyebrows are furrowed in utter concentration, so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his glasses are slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose.

You quietly make your way to the chair across the table from the man and settle yourself down onto the wooden material with your eyes still fixed on him. You’re not sure if it’s just the harsh lighting of the library or you weren’t paying attention earlier, but you can see faint dark circles under his eyes.

“Aren’t you sleeping enough?” you mumble, though Azul still doesn’t hear you. Your hand reaches out without you meaning to, your fingertips gently brushing aside the locks of hair that were starting to cover Azul’s eyes.

This finally gathers his attention and the man jolts in surprise, his eyes wide as his head shoots up to see you sitting across from him.

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable Azul looks, pulling your hand back to cover your mouth as you do so, “I’m so sorry. I didn't think you could get so focused in, like, five minutes.”

“Oh— I— yeah, sorry,” the man snaps back to his senses before his hands are spread out to cover whatever he’s written — not that he needed to. You wouldn’t have peeked anyways, and you both know that well enough: you’d never look unless he asked you to. “Did you need something?”

“Huh?” you question before cursing yourself mentally, because just a fleeting look at Azul could make your mind go completely blank. You quickly shake your head before Azul could elaborate, “no, no! I just… I'm saying yes. To your, uh… invitation.”

“My invi— oh,” Azul’s mouth forms a small “o” as he realizes what you’re referring to; and just like the first time you gave him a response, he’s caught by surprise.

To be honest, he was mentally preparing himself for rejection. Lack of self-confidence aside, he wasn’t sure if you felt the same way he did; whereas he ended his letters with quite corny quotes from romance novels, you missed his hints and always ended yours with quotes from novels in any other genre.

“Is that… okay?” you ask hesitantly when Azul doesn’t say anything else. You can feel your entire body starting to feel warm from embarrassment, the thought that you must have misinterpreted his words hitting you like a brick.

“Y—yeah, of course!” Azul answers a bit too quickly, and the more time passes by, the wider his smile gets and the redder his ears turn. “I’m the one who asked, why are you asking if it’s okay to say ‘yes’?”

“I thought I misinterpreted,” you confess after releasing the breath you were anxiously holding in.

Azul chuckles and places his hands on yours before giving them a reassuring squeeze, “I’m sorry, I was caught off guard. But thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your cheeks begin to burn as the cliché phrase leaves your lips. “but um… where are we going? Are you actually going to cook dinner?”

You don’t doubt that the man probably has skills in a kitchen. He owns a restaurant after all, but you’ve never visited before so you’re not sure who actually does all the cooking. Azul merely runs his thumb and index finger across his lips in a zipping motion.

“It’s a surprise!”

❥

The next few days follow in a blur of excitement and expectancy. You’ve tried to ask Azul multiple times for even just a hint of what your plans would be for Friday night, but he stays true to his word of keeping everything a surprise.

So, come Friday, you decide to dress comfortably with a pair of straight leg jeans and an oversized, lilac-toned sweater. It’s simplistic, but when Azul comes to pick you up at the library that night, it seems that the two of you had unintentionally matched — though his sweater is slightly darker in color.

When you first see each other, you point at one-another as if you were the infamous Spider-man meme. Small bursts of laughter leave both of your lips as you decide to make the first move and reach out for his hand.

Without his gloves on, you can feel how clammy Azul’s hand is from nervousness. You don’t mind it very much though, his hand is still very soft and warm and comforting to you. 

“Are you ready?” Azul asks, daring to give your hand the tiniest squeeze.

“Uh, as ready as someone can be when they don’t know where they’re going.”

Azul chuckles as he nods, “okay, fair enough. It’s nowhere bad, I promise. I’m not a serial killer.”

“That sounds exactly like what a serial killer would say in a mystery book, but I’ll trust you.”

“You read way too many crime books,” Azul comments, thinking back to the quotes you’ve written to him in your letters.

“I’d like to say I’ve broadened my horizons just a little bit. Though I never would’ve taken you for such a romantic,” you tease back, smiling sheepishly when the man chokes on his own spit at your words.

“I— uh, I’m most definitely not,” Azul says defensively between coughs, his cheeks reddening though you aren’t sure if it’s because he choked or because he’s actually feeling shy. “It’s just research for my, uh… contract work.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say,” you chuckle, rubbing the man’s back with your free hand until he ceases to cough.

The rest of the walk is blanketed in a comfortable silence, your gaze fixed on the fairy lights decorating the exterior of the school buildings. Once the lights have all but disappeared, your initial thought is that the dark hallways really don’t help Azul’s claim of not being a serial killer. If it’s true, then at least your last sight would be of a handsome man.

A few more minutes pass before you finally set foot inside the familiar Hall of Mirrors, Azul slowly guiding you to the mirror that connects to the Octavinelle dorm.

“You’ve never been to the Mostro Lounge before, have you?” Azul asks when he sees you staring apprehensively at the mirror.

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s my pleasure to accompany you on your first visit then,” Azul smiles with a hand on his chest. “Hopefully, you’ll enjoy your time tonight so you can come visit again in the future.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it since I’m with you, but will the tweels be there tonight? I can only imagine the amount of teasing we’re going to be enduring soon. Not that I mind!” you quickly add before Azul can take that as a sign to cancel.

“Hah, I thought about that too,” Azul mutters, two fingers rubbing circles on his temple as if to fight back an oncoming headache. “But…”

“But?” you tilt your head curiously, prying when Azul refuses to make eye contact with you.

Azul takes a deep breath, mentally willing himself to say possibly the cheesiest thing he’s ever said in his life, “but I don’t mind suffering just a little bit if you’ll be by my side.”

Now it’s your turn to start choking on air. Yeah, he definitely reads way too many romance novels.

❥

When you finally set foot inside the Monstro Lounge, it isn’t quite as busy as you had anticipated it to be. There are just a handful of patrons sitting around, mostly chattering amongst themselves and only momentarily stopping when you and Azul pass by.

It’s peaceful, and you have to wonder why Azul prefers to work in the library as opposed to here. And well, to be fair, it’s only this “slow” tonight due to Azul’s own doing. Ah, the sacrifices on profits he has to make for love.

You place your hand in Azul’s outstretched one after you enter the lounge, shy smiles on both of your faces as you allow him to guide you towards the kitchen. You don’t even notice that Azul hasn’t let go of your hand when you bump into Jade and Floyd.

“Oh, my, what a surprise to see you here, Azul,” Jade calmly says as he bows his head, “and y/n is here too. What a pleasant surprise. Good evening, y/n.”

“Ohhhh? Azul, you didn’t tell us you were bringing over a date tonight,” Floyd grins mischievously, only a second away from springing forward to squeeze you if Jade wasn’t holding on to the back of his shirt. “And it’s the dolphin from the library. Hi, dolphin.”

“H—hello,” you quickly greet the two men, your hand grasping Azul’s tighter in fear of an oncoming squeeze, “I hope we’re not intruding.”

“Not at all. I already told Jade beforehand that we were coming, so we’ll have the place to ourselves in a moment,” Azul answers you, his free hand adjusting the bridge of his glasses. “Please spare me that shocked look, Floyd. You know you’re the last person I would inform of a date.”

“Aw, Azul, you’re a meanie! I wouldn’t have teased you that much, I swear!” Floyd huffs and pouts.

“I can hardly believe that.”

“Now, now, Floyd. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone,” Jade coos, patting his brother on the back before slowly pushing him towards the direction you had just come in from. “Have a wonderful time, y/n. Azul.”

“You’ll be hearing from me later,” Floyd grumbles, pout still very apparent on his face while he reluctantly follows his brother out the door.

With their departure, the kitchen falls eerily silent, safe for the quiet hum of the commercial freezer in the corner. Azul silently lets go of your hand and dares to place a hand on the small of your back instead as he guides you deeper inside.

You’re not surprised by how impeccably clean the kitchen seems to be, surely Azul checks in often to ensure that everything is up to his standards and beyond. But what you are surprised by is the sight that greets you when Azul finally opens a door at the very back of the kitchen.

You’re greeted by the afternoon sunlight streaming through a window that doesn’t seem to belong in an underwater dorm. But there’s no way that you could be hallucinating the sight in front of you.

In the middle of the room is a long, wooden farm table with about four mismatched wooden chairs encompassing it; the wide window sill you saw first is showcasing several small pots that are homes to what you assume to be herbs and vegetables.

Azul notices your awe-filled gaze and retracts his hand, allowing you to roam around the room freely while he heads back to the kitchen to check on tonight’s dinner — courtesy of Jade. The acoustic in the room allows for your voice to be heard loud and clear though you’re technically in separate rooms.

“I didn’t know that they have rooms like this in the Coral Sea,” you say aloud, the tone of your voice conveying that your statement is serious.

“We definitely don’t,” you hear distant Azul’s chuckle and you can mentally picture the kind of smile the man has on his face at the moment. “That room is typically used as storage, but I borrowed a magic projector from Vil a while ago to make it look more home-y for you.”

“It certainly does look like home…” you say to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings more carefully.

You’re not sure how Azul would know it himself as you’ve never talked to him about it before, but the setting before you — brought by a magic projector or not — does remind you of the dining room from back home. It’s been so long since you’d last seen it that you’d almost forgotten what it looked like.

It’s a kind gesture that brings tears of joy and nostalgia to your eyes.

“Thank you, Azul, this is really thoughtful of you. I don’t have anything to give you in return right now, but… what is it that you wish for, Azul?” you’ve made your way towards the kitchen by now, your shoulder leaning against the doorway as you gaze at the man with a look filled with curiosity.

Azul glances over his shoulders to look at you, his lips curving up into a soft smile as he shrugs, “if I tell you my wish, then it won’t come true.”

You fold your arms and hum in response, “okay, fair enough. I thought you were going to say ‘world domination’.”

“That’s such a plain wish, but I bet younger me would’ve wished for something just like that,” Azul laughs aloud at himself before shaking his head, “I think nowadays my wish is to be more confident in myself and my own abilities.”

You nod in understanding as you recall the brief stories he would share of his childhood. It seems that Azul has gone through so much in a short amount of time, but he’s also changed so much since then.

You walk over to the man and place your hand above his own, the steam from your dinner eventually warming your hand and dampening them as well.

“I think you’re doing a wonderful job right now, and I’m very proud of you,” you smile fondly at Azul, causing his eyes to widen in surprise and his chest to tighten as if he may burst into tears at any moment now.

“T—thank you…” it’s the first time someone has said anything like that to him before, and he’s not sure how he should respond. Right now, he’s only focused on making sure his face isn’t turning as red as Riddle’s.

“Of course! I’ll remind you of that as often as you’d like!”

Just as quickly as his expression changed before, Azul’s face brightens up once more at your response. He turns on his heels, his arms balancing a variety of plates packed with food. You reach out to help alleviate the burden on his arms, but he moves his arms away from your reach before leaning down to get to eye level with you.

“Then I have even more of a reason to be grateful, right? We got to meet each other, and my wishful thinking… may not be such after all.”

Your features crease into a look of confusion at the man’s unexpected words, but when you gaze into his dark grey orbs you can see the sincerity in them.

Unknowingly, the space between your faces starts to become smaller and smaller. Azul’s gaze shifts between your eyes, then your lips, then back up again. But before anything can happen, as if the universe is playing a joke on you, a plate in Azul’s arm shifts ever so slightly and causes the two of you to jump apart.

A rather awkward laugh makes its way past your lips and you hurriedly reach out to grab a few plates from Azul’s arms before he can protest. You don’t say a single word as you set the plates down onto the farm table, your mind too busy screaming a million incoherent thoughts, and Azul follows suit.

“I’m so sorry,” Azul is the first to break the silence once you’ve taken a seat diagonal to each other, on either side of a table corner.

“What? Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head while simultaneously waving your hands. Your fingers slowly curve into loose fists that you rest atop your lap, the small smile on your face mirroring Azul’s own.

“Do you… know why I asked you out tonight?” Azul hesitantly asks, a quiet sigh leaving his lips when you shake your head ‘no’. “Well, it’s just that I realized that we’ve spent most of our time together in the library— well, in fact, I have never seen you outside of the library. It finally occurred to me that I might be making you feel like you don’t matter outside of that space. Which you do!”

“I don’t feel that way though…” you try to reassure him, but it seems like your words only enter one ear and exit the other as he continues to speak.

“I’ve truly enjoyed exchanging all those letters with you and being able to connect through our shared love for books. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like to start seeing you outside of that too.”

It doesn’t take you long to process the situation and, to your utmost surprise, your heart isn’t hammering in your chest like you think it should. Instead your entire body feels comfortably warm and you have the overwhelming urge to embrace Azul.

At this point, you’ve garnered enough courage to do just that.

You stand up and quickly make your way over to him, your arms immediately wrapping themselves around Azul’s shoulders while your face hides in the crook of his neck. It takes a moment for him to respond, but Azul’s arms eventually find their place around your waist to press your body firmly against his.

“You’re such an idiot, Azul,” you mutter after what feels like an eternity has passed.

Your words cause the man’s lower lip to jut out into a pout, and he leans back ever so slightly so he can look at your face; you almost whine when the warmth of Azul’s body leaves you.

“Why am I an idiot?” Azul inquires, a hand moving to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Because… if I really felt that way then I never would have kept reciprocating for so long. It doesn’t matter if we spent all that time in one place because it never got boring or tiring with you around,” you pause to flash a fond smile at Azul. “And even now, I’m having the time of my life just being here in your presence. Is that too corny to say? It’s the truth though.”

Azul chuckles in amusement while shaking his head, “it’s not corny. I think.”

It’s the first time that you’ve been so straightforward without getting flustered, and he’s not sure where your sudden courage came from.

Not that he’s complaining about it though.

When you two first met, you could barely hold a conversation with him for more than a minute. While he did feel a pang of disappointment every time, he never took it personally — especially not after seeing you interact with other students in a similar manner.

You caught him off guard when you finally approached him first, weeks after your first correspondences, though your cheeks were permanently warm while you tried your best to converse with him.

He found you adorable, like a newborn seal pup being introduced to the world for the first time.

Azul has always enjoyed your company since the beginning, whereas he’d prefer to be left alone to work in the past. But then he found himself going back to the library time and time again, until it became a regular occurrence.

He admittedly never got a lot of studying done when he was at the library — at least, not at the times when he accompanied you on your daily runs to shelve book returns.

Azul’s still not sure when his feelings developed beyond those of curiosity and friendship.

Perhaps it was when you could finally meet his eyes and hold contact, allowing him to gaze deep into your eyes that always seemed to sparkle with light and joy.

Or perhaps it was when he told you a dad joke so bad that it actually made you burst into a fit of giggles that left you breathless — the mere sight of you smiling gleefully tugging at his heartstrings in the best way.

Regardless of the when, where, why, and how’s, Azul is certain of his feelings for you.

“I wonder if this is how Benedick and Beatrice felt when they finally agreed to marry,” you comment, breaking through Azul’s thoughts.

Azul nearly snorts at your remark, “B—Benedick and Beatrice? You mean the ones from “Much Ado About Nothing”?”

“Yeah… why?”

The man laughs after your confirmation, your cheeks being partially squished between his palms as he brings your faces closer together until the tips of your noses are almost touching, “no offense — I adore that beautiful mind of yours — but I don’t think those two exactly exude the idea of ‘wholesome’.”

“But think of the relief they must’ve felt after they didn’t have to pretend they didn’t love each other anymore.”

“So, you love me?” Azul quirks an eyebrow up challengingly.

“Wh— you’re taking that too literally,” you grumble with a fist hitting the man’s chest gently, though the way you avoid his eyes and your cheeks are flushed tells him that he may be somewhere on the right path.

“Then… do you like me?” Azul inquires, and you can see the mischievous glint in his eyes when you finally meet them.

“Do we really have to say that out loud after we already did our monologues?”

“I want to hear it from you. Please.”

You swallow the small lump in your throat, though that’s the only sign of nervousness in your entire body.

You find it fascinating how quickly your body’s reactions change whenever Azul is around. There’s a sense of nerves and shyness when you’re in the midst of new experiences, but it just as quickly changes to feelings of calmness because the man brings you such a sense of comfort you never expected.

Just like how the lump in your throat dissipates and leaves you to gaze at Azul with complete fondness.

There’s not a moment of hesitation before your whispered confession of “I truly like you, Azul Ashengrotto.” hangs in the air.

Just those simple words of affirmation make Azul’s entire face light up, the sight of his bright smile making you feel like you were standing in the middle of a field and soaking in the warm summer sunlight.

“And I like you, y/n.”

Your bodies act as if on muscle memory, Azul’s face tilting ever so slightly while your eyes flutter shut. You’re not sure who closes the distance first. Perhaps it was both of you moving simultaneously, but your lips eventually meet in a fleeting and gentle kiss.

There were no fireworks igniting behind your eyelids like they’d described in the countless books you’ve read, but it still leaves you feeling lightheaded. Like you’re melting into Azul’s arms. Like there’s only the two of you alone in this vast world.

When you pull apart, the two of you giggle like schoolgirls but the action isn’t fueled by feelings of awkwardness or nervousness. You both gaze at each other with eyes full of admiration and budding feelings of love, the feelings that were hidden before from fear of being rejected finally bubbling up to the surface.

You’ve long forgotten about the now-cold plates of food sitting in front of you; opting to spend the rest of the night exchanging even more gentle kisses and whispered sweet nothings.

❥

The dynamics of your relationship with Azul hardly changed after you confirmed your feelings for one-another, and you truly feel grateful that there was no pressure on you to act differently.

Of course, now there were a lot more lingering touches, your fingers almost always intertwined if there was nothing to keep them busy. You’d even sneak brief kisses behind the cover of bookshelves when you thought no one was looking.

Even if neither of you were a fan of P.D.A., you made an exception for each other. 

Nothing was made official between the two of you after that fateful night, as Azul opted to wait another half a year before asking you to be his partner.

You didn’t mind his decision to take things slow. You both wanted to make sure that your feelings for each other weren’t just illusions brought forth by letters on paper — though you knew that wasn’t the case anyways.

When he felt that the time was right, Azul asked the question in the best way that he knew how to: through book spines. Though unlike how he’d asked you on your “first date,” Azul didn’t shy away after dropping the books off.

He’d waited patiently for you to have some time to spare for him, his chin resting atop his folded arms at the checkout counter as he watched you help patron after patron check out books.

“I have something for you,” Azul could hardly contain his excitement when you finally turned to him and let him know you were free.

“What is it?”

You felt a sense of déjà vu watching Azul dig into his backpack and pull out a stack of books. He placed them down on the counter with the book spines facing you, and you’d half-expected him to walk away like before.

But he stayed there; his eyes curved into double rainbows coupled with a sweet smile, and his hands trembling ever so slightly in nervousness.

Will by [redacted] You by [redacted] Bees by [redacted] Mine by [redacted]

You had to hold back the squeal that was threatening to escape your larynx when you finally looked away from Azul long enough to read his message. Your mind already went over the fact that Azul had to substitute the word “be” with “bees” and you nodded so hard Azul thought your head might fly off.

Now it’s been exactly a year since you two made your relationship official. In the year you’ve spent as a couple — and even before then — you’d fallen into a pleasant routine.

During the weekdays, while you’re working at the library, Azul would be studying in his usual spot in the corner of the second story. After some time, he’d suspiciously stopped asking you to proofread his work.

Every Friday night, he would try out new dinner recipes and you would be in charge of baking dessert — and you wonder how his kitchen has managed to stay so spotless after all this time.

Sometimes you would invite Epel, Ace, and Deuce to come over too, and the first time your friends agreed to come, they were appalled by how sweet you and Azul were; but they secretly loved seeing you genuinely happy in this strange new world.

Saturday’s were reserved for the show-and-tell of Azul’s enormous coin collection, with the latter recalling stories of when he found them on solo adventures in the Coral Sea. When you asked why he had so many, Azul explained that they help with his memory and it’s exciting to learn of the history behind especially old coins. You can’t argue with him there.

Sunday’s are for those who may say that your relationship seems too mundane. You both agreed to do something new during this day, may it be something as small as feeding ducks near the pond or as adventure packed as tagging along with Jade on his strolls in the mountains.

Either way, you always ended the day cuddling up next to each other in Azul’s bedroom.

The collections of books in this world are endless, and you’ve made it a habit to take turns reading aloud to each other until you both fell asleep late into the night.

But this Sunday, the exact day of your one-year anniversary with Azul, the man had asked if you could stay at home. Your homebody-self answered “yes” without hesitation.

It’s already nightfall by the time you find yourselves stuffed with dinner and cake and situated under the wooden pergola illuminated by Vil’s borrowed magic projector. Your comfortable silence is accompanied by the soothing chirping of crickets and a night sky sprinkled with the brightest stars.

“Happy anniversary, angel,” Azul says with a warm smile before bringing your hands up to press tender kisses along your knuckles.

“Angel”: it’s a hypocorism that Azul has grown fond of calling you by. When he first started to call you as such, you found it amusing because it’s a name that better suits him.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” your smile mirrors Azul’s own, a quiet giggle escaping your lips when his lips tickle your skin.

It’s a wonder that time has passed so quickly.

It felt like just yesterday you saw Azul entering the library, with not a single clue as to who he was — and now here you are, more than positive that you’re in love with the man sitting in front of you.

“I love you”: it’s a sentence that has remained unspoken between the two of you. Not because you don’t love each other, because even a jellyfish could see that you do, but because neither of you ever felt the need to verbalize those feelings.

Until now.

“Azul,” you call out, waiting until he glances up and hums in response. “I love you.”

A minute of silence follows, then two, then three, and as more time passes on, you can feel a sense of panic growing stronger in the pit of your stomach.

Had you thought wrong? Did you just jump the gun when Azul didn’t feel as strongly for you as you did for him?

“I have something for you,” Azul’s soothing voice cuts through your anxious thoughts.

You try to ignore the pang of disappointment that accompanies your panic.

He didn’t say it back.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice sounding weak.

“Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, keeping your eyes closed as Azul lets go of your hands. You can hear him rummaging around for something, and you have to wonder what it could be.

Your eyes only open again when Azul gives you the okay to.

Azul places what appears to be a manuscript atop your lap, and you look at him with a puzzled expression on your face as you pick the bundle of papers up, ”what is this?”

“I didn’t tell you this before because I was too embarrassed, but I decided to try writing a book of my own,” Azul chuckles, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m getting close to done. I just wanted you to see it first, even though I know you hate spoilers.”

“I absolutely do,” you declare as you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

“I know, I know, but…” Azul bites on his lower lip, his voice trailing off as he contemplates how to word his next sentence. “I’m better at writing out my feelings than I am verbally expressing it, and I’ve included it here. I’d love for you to read it first before the rest of the world.”

“I think you’re better at expressing your feelings aloud than you think you are, darling.”

You can’t deny that you feel honored to have Azul regard you highly enough to have you be the first to read his nearly completed work. Sure, you’ve spent hours proofreading essays and the like before, but this felt different.

Azul’s hands are clasped together tightly enough to make his skin appear a few shades lighter, anxiety coursing through his body as he watches you flip to the first page of the manuscript where the dedication page is. He’s not sure why he feels that way when he knows exactly how you feel about him.

Your eyes and mind slowly take in the words written on the page.

Were you suddenly hallucinating sweet words onto paper? A quick glance up at Azul tells you no.

His written feelings bring tears of happiness to the corners of your eyes, and it takes all your willpower to not throw your arms around the man and kiss him right then and there.

To my muse, my angel, my wonderful y/n, You know what people say about meeting your soulmate? It feels like you’re at home the moment you meet them. I think they’re right, because while the sight of your beautiful smile makes my heart race, you also make me feel safe and comfortable. It’s like one look from you lifts the weight of the world off my shoulders, like there’s absolutely nothing for me to worry about. Without you, I would never have experienced things and feelings that I thought were only possible in books. It’s with our fond memories in mind that I write this book. Thank you. Thank you for choosing to spend your days with me. Thank you for being a beacon of support during the times I was clouded with self-doubt and during the times I wasn’t. I love you. “Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” - E.E. Cummings

[munsonslove]

Hello love! Just wanted to say that you're one of my favourite writers on here. The way you write is so comforting and so easy to visualise as I'm reading! Sorry for anon, I'm a grown woman with a child who is down bad for a fictional character and my friends don't understand 🥴

I'd love to see your take on reader having an awful day and needing Eddie to get her into subspace- don't mind if mixed with daddy kink, too!

Please keep writing because I'm literally obsessed ❤

Feel Better

(18+ only)

a/n: no worries anon, i’m a grown woman who’s down bad for a fictional character as well lmao (though i don’t have a child, but still) anyways i hope you like it!!! this isn’t full rated R it’s just the lead up to it, but it’s still really cute i think~ also happy halloween everyone!

summary: A bad day leads to some TLC from your favorite person.

wordcount: 1.1k, short n sweet <3

tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, softdom!Eddie, fluff, smut (kinda), established relationship, daddy kink, praise kink, no use of y/n

Today was absolutely awful. Eddie didn’t sleep over last night, so you woke up at the crack of dawn alone in a cold bed. Then, your coffee maker crapped out on you, so you had to leave without any caffeine to help fend off the weariness still looming over you. It was raining and you never replaced your umbrella that got a huge tear in the nylon last month- and though Eddie did constantly offer to drive you when you first landed this job, you felt bad forcing him to wake up so early when he often worked late nights- so you walked the ten minute walk to the store every morning. This, of course, resulted in you showing up to work soaking wet. To make matters worse, despite only barely being past Halloween, the suburban moms of Hawkins have decided the retail hell that is the holiday season has officially arrived.

When you finally dragged your aching feet past the threshold of your tiny home, your ears picked up the sound of pots and pans clanging and running water. Eddie’s van was parked in your driveway, and he knows that he’s welcome to let himself in any time he wants- that’s why you gave him a spare key in the first place. You pass through the archway to the kitchen to find your boyfriend doing the dishes while bopping his head along to the beat of imaginary music. He doesn’t notice your arrival over the sound of the sink, so you take a moment to just appreciate the view. There’s two plates of your favorite lunch on the table, beside a fresh brewed cup from your newly fixed coffee machine. Already you feel immensely better, but a home cooked meal isn’t what you need right now.

You clear your throat to get his attention, and it works like a charm. Eddie’s head whips around to reveal a wide grin on his face, but his expression drops when his eyes find yours. You can only imagine how you look right now, with your hair and clothes dried after being rained on. He can definitely see the remnants of your terrible day on you. Turning off the faucet, he walks over to you without a word and pulls you into a tight embrace.

“You wanna talk about it, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice a quiet whisper filled with care.

“No,” you answer immediately, “I just want you to help me forget.”

He understands what you’re asking from him without you needing to explain, so he takes your hand in his and leads you to the bedroom. After closing the door behind you, he dims the lights and takes you by your waist to sit you down on the side of the bed. You try to look up at him as he stands towering above you, but it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when he places his hands on either side of your cheeks and starts softly stroking your hairline. He does this motion for a little while, until you’re unsure how long he’s been just delicately touching you. The repetition of these gentle caresses combined with the sound of both of your quiet breathing syncing up is enough to have you creeping closer to that empty-brained daze that you’ve been craving all day.

Eddie helps you pull off your shoes, along with your work uniform and underwear, crumpling up the clothes into balls and chucking them into the hamper across the room. Then, he calmly instructs you to lay down on your stomach. You do as you’re told without protest, and he hums approvingly as he crawls over your naked body. With his weight grounding you to the plush mattress, all you can focus on is the feeling of him pressing into every inch of your body. There’s such little light present, and the room is silent except for rhythmic inhaling and exhaling, so your concentration is fighting a losing battle. Your mind is slowly melting into mush as Eddie’s lips barely graze your shoulder blades.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he whispers, his warm breath tickling your skin. “Fall into it, I’ve got you.”

You want to respond. Tell him that you’re trying, you’re almost there- but you’re so close that you’ve already become nonverbal. Talking got really difficult when you were in this headspace, so your lack of response told Eddie everything he needed to know. He continued pressing short kisses to your back as he rubbed up and down your arms lovingly.

“Just listen to my voice, darling,” he ordered, a little louder but still monotone so as to not distract you and pull you out of the moment. “You don’t have to worry about anything else today. Daddy’s got it all covered from now on, just turn that pretty little head off.”

Before you know it, you’re nose-diving deep into that all too familiar trance-like state you often find yourself in when your boyfriend takes control. It’s euphoric, like you’re floating above the bed despite being pinned down. The sound of Eddie’s hands sliding against the skin of your arms, torso, and legs suddenly becomes so amplified that it’s like it’s happening right next to your ear. There was nothing in your system, no smoke in your lungs or alcohol in your blood, but you felt far from sober. Your face must have portrayed the dizziness you felt, perhaps via glazed over eyes or a slack jaw, because the man on top of you stopped his massage to tilt your head to the side.

“There she is,” he rasped, “You feel better?”

A small set of giggles unconsciously escaped you, answering what you couldn’t find with words. Vibrations rattled your relaxed body as Eddie returned the laughter, and you almost didn’t even notice the heaviness being lifted off of you when he sat up and positioned himself between your spread legs.

“What’s so funny, pretty girl?” he asks between laughs, splaying his fingers on your thighs just below the fat of your butt. “I got you all giggly, don’t I?”

There’s more shuffling, but your mind is too far away to fully comprehend what’s going on around you. You think Eddie stands up, then the bed dips when he gets back on. He moves you like you’re a rag doll, positioning you onto your hands and knees for him. You feel his cock sliding along your slit and brushing against your clit as he tenderly strokes your back.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he whispers into the darkness of the room, though the tremors that reverberate in your bones would lead one to believe he bellowed it. “Daddy’s gonna make his good girl forget about everything.”

[bugflies00]

do phil & techno exist in your au?

yes they do!! i keep forgetting to talk about them and i think it's because i haven't explored their characters enough in my head so im not as attached to them in this au, but i really want to develop them more. originally this was an sbi au but then my crimeboys solo brain (and my tntduo brain) took over. but sbi is very much a found family in this au too!!!

i think i mentioned that wilbur met techno first, probably through their job? originally i wanted phil to be a college prof who meets wilbur when hes a student, but then i scrapped wilbur going to college after school because he doesnt have the money or time (he does eventually go in his late twenties!! because he really wants to like he loves learning and it was always a dream of his), so phil is still a college prof in my heart but yeah.

he's techno's dad, and techno's mum isn't even in the picture, i guess she's dead lmao. yeah im making that canon she's dead because then wilbur and techno can make dead mum jokes. <- you just saw the live process of a fact being canonised.

anyway twinsduo bond at their retail job over talking about history and ancient greece and literature. techno is a classics major at his dad's college, and he took a job to get some money on the side. sometimes he sneaks wilbur his textbooks just because he's really passionate about the topic and he's really jealous of techno who gets to learn about it and have the college experience and live at home with his dad.

phil and wilbur have a Somewhat? fatherly? relationship? over time as crimeboys & emeraldduo grow closer phil definitely starts acting as a father/mentor figure for wilbur, but it's never like. official. wilbur doesn't call him Dad or anything. but they still love each other a lot it's very much found family but i suppose not in the traditional sense.

it takes a LONG time for wilbur to warm up to phil though, he has a tendency to distrust adults given. well. His Whole Life Experience i guess. but the second tommy meets techno he makes it his life's mission to annoy him as much as possible. This is a mark of love. it takes a long time for techno to realise that . tommy and phil also get along pretty quickly, phil's chill, easy-going vibe matches well with tommy's . General Presence.

they live a couple streets away from wilbur & tommy's flat (and later in the story when wilbur buys a house with q they buy the house right beside phil and techno's. they make a hole in the fence separating the houses so they can hang out in the other house more easily!). phil gets really worried about wilbur when he learns that he has a teen and a baby in his care alone, so he tries his best to help out where he can, but obviously wilbur's a stubborn asshole who refuses help, so phil has to be subtle about it. one day when he's visiting he finds the fridge is empty except for baby formula and a single sandwich for tommy's lunch, he doesn't leave wilbur a choice he makes him come over and feeds all of them. and wilbur keeps protesting but phil's like "it hurts them too if you refuse help" and so he shuts up.

phil teaches english, and he's kinda the cool old teacher who always swears and talks shit but who cares a lot about his students, and it's a similar relationship he has with crimeboys. he and techno also have a very funny (to me) relationship because often when they talk it doesn't feel like a father and son, more like two weird old friends who constantly jab at each other. it's very confusing if you don't know them.

techno also doesn't have a lot of friends (mostly by choice) and phil is like. The One Person he trusts the most. he begrudgingly starts allowing wilbur in that circle. eventually also tommy although that takes work (thats a lie techno loves tommy but he has to act like he hates him because yknow. The Principle).

to a lot of people's surprise, fundy and techno latch on to each other very quickly. it's surprising because fundy was a very very shy and anxious kid, and as a baby, he would cry if he was held by anyone who wasn't wilbur. and techno is this big burly socially awkward guy who doesn't know how to give hugs. but for some reason fundy immediately trusts him and lets him carry him and techno is very gentle with him. he doesn't talk to him like a baby, he has conversations with 6 month old fundy about ancient greece and politics and linguistics. he's the only person besides wilbur who fundy will fall asleep in the arms of. even when fundy's an older kid they still have that bond, at any social events they'll be in the corner so they don't have to talk to people.

techno also plays the violin, and when he learns this tommy begs him for months to play him something and he refuses. one day tommy comes home crying because he had an awful day and skimmed his knee and got a bad grade and his lunch got soaked in the rain, and techno leads him up to his room and silently begins to play a piece. tommy never shut up so quickly in his life LMAO

i think that's all i have for now but if you prompt me i can talk about anything in this au for days

[bigmammallama5]

So this must have already been asked but I can never work tumblr’s search correctly. Is the creative life also your day job? Your work is amazing but like it is your side passion or just what also sustains you. How could I order your pottery work?

tumblr's search is mostly broken now so i'm not surprised lmao (i'm always happy to talk to yall even if it has been asked before)

I do have an actual creative career (with benefits and retirement!! LOL), I'm an art director in a small design firm and I specialize in retail package design and product photography. Most of you in the States (and probably Canada) have seen my work in the real world! It's very boring lol.

Ceramics is my true love, I think, but I don't have any desire to sell it myself online as I don't have the space to store inventory or funds to get the shipping materials (or even the clay materials) and would rather teach it. BUT. I will be selling some of my pottery very soon through the studio I learn/teach at, and I will post that link when I actually have it! They do ship at least within the States, and 60% of the sale will go to me.

But all my other creative adventures whether that's drawing or writing or any other activity that involves making with my hands are just for funsies and because it makes me happy. One of the best pieces of advice one of my bosses gave me when I first started was "You are in a creative job, make sure you have your own creative outlet that you don't monetize." And I stand by that. It keeps me sane, and that's also part of why I don't have an online ceramics shop or pushed a shop for prints too hard.

[faustquillpen]

Wayward Academy

Heya, finally actually posting the story where these weenies came from.  It’s in a script like format beginning with a narration bit, because i kinda want it as a visual novel or comic or something. Shrugs. Anyways I'd really appreciate any interaction with this post, I worked hard and I'm a little sad I don't have many people to yell about my Ocs with lmao. This blog is strictly art writing and oc rambling if that's interesting to ya!!!

It all started with a turtle. Yes, a turtle. No, I don't know why it caught my eye and no I don't think it's destiny or anything of the sort. Just... The right place at the right time?  Or... Wrong place at the right time?  ...Maybe it was the right place?  Whatever. It all started with that turtle.

It wasn't the kind of night you'd expect it to be off when this sort of thing happens.  It wasn't- It didn't- it *was* normal.  Warm with a cool breeze, the kind of night that gently reminds you that colder seasons are coming, the heat of a summer day giving way to a cool, refreshing night.  It was nice, is what I'm saying. Just a nice night.  Peaceful, quiet.  I was walking along a fence that marked the edge of a private hunting property, listening to the last crickets and peeper frogs singing their last songs of the season before they slept.  Or died.  For the crickets at least.  It had been a long day at a mindless, soul crushing retail job, and I just wanted to get back to my flat.

Then I noticed that turtle.

It was stuck on its back, i-i always heard they can't really get up once they're stuck like that but I never actually saw it. You'd think after, like, millions of years of evolution they'd learn how to flip themselves back but, whatever. It was a pathetic little thing, waving its little feet in the air and rocking back and forth.

Obviously I wanted to do something, why wouldn't I?  I'm not, not some, some ass who just leaves a poor animal in trouble. But what was I to do?  The fence stretched for as far as I could see in either direction, and the top was fitted with some nasty looking barbed wire to keep out trespassers.  I remember kneeling on the damp ground, ignoring the chill and looking at the poor thing, trying to think of what to do.  Was there a stick nearby?  Maybe if I... Just tried to get my hand through the chain link?  No, no, it was too far for... Either of those things.  And then I.. I..

You... You ever drop something when you're younger, and you try to just... *Will* it back to you, like maybe you have some sort of latent super power you'll suddenly realize by making your pen or-or remote fly over to you?  I guess I was trying to do that, as I watched it struggle, imagining a mental push from underneath, enough to nudge it over.

And... It did.  

At least, I think it did. I saw a blue... Swirly bit of light, kinda like those orbs on those... um, paranormal.. video... Things. It started next to the turtle, and-And it moved up and towards it, it actually moved *up* and the turtle, it... he Moved with it!  

I think I kind of... Dissociated there.  Maybe?  Or just a regular panic attack. Or shock, I guess. I remember... Staring, at my hands, just, staring, trying to... To see if maybe, I dunno, they looked different somehow?  Glowy like that blue mist too?  But no, they were normal.

Then I remember a shadow passing over me, and getting up way too quick, and tripping backwards over the curb and... Then nothing. I guess I passed out?  There's... No way to really know I guess, but I'm pretty sure I did.  It's really disorienting to be doing one thing and suddenly be snapped to another moment, like no time passed at all between me falling and me groggily listening to the conversation around me.

Voice 1

*Dry, uninterested* you killed him.

Voice 2

No!  He erm, he's just uh, I...

Voice 3

It's my fault anyway, I should of been more... Humany when I went to greet him. The look on his face though?  Like he never saw a giant lizard before!  Hilarious.

Voice 4

Well, we can't do anything about it now--

Voice 2

H-hey I think, I think he's coming to!  Is.. that the right word?  “Coming to?”

Voice 1

Ugh...

*M.c. (main character) opens his eyes, wincing as he slowly sits up, groaning weakly* 

T-turtle...?

Voice 2

Oh yeah!  The turtle!  

Voice 4

Keep your voice down Dylan, poor thing probably has a headache from that tumble.

Dylan

Right right right right *backing away and getting quieter*

Voice 4

Hey there .... Buddy?  Are you doing okay, ah... That wasn't uh, what we meant to do-- do you even know what happened?

M.c.

Mmmmnnnoo? *Still out of it*

Voice 4

Good!  Uh. Forget everything I said just then.  I'm sure that won't be hard to do, you seem uh... Not quite ready to understand words just yet.

Voice 1

Maybe he's just stupid.

Voice 4 

Lucas!

Lucas

*Shrugs with a grunt*

Voice 4

... Rude asses aside... *Focuses back on mc* I'm Josephine

Mc

....

Voice 3 

You're 'supposta tell us your name now.

Lucas

*Quietly, in a slightly sing song voice* told you...

Josephine

*Glares at lucas, who seems to not care in the slightest, then turns back again to mc* you can take your time, love.  Ignore these louts

Voice 3

Hey...

Dylan

*Quietly* What's a lout...

Mc

I-- my name is- uh... Faust. Call me... Faust.

Josephine

Ooookay then... Faust?  So uh... What do you ah, what do you remember?

Dylan 

*In background* I think it's a type of fish...

Faust

*Groaning again and rubs his head* theeere... was a tuuurtle...?

Lucas 

Riveting.

Dylan

*Continuing in background*  why are we fish...?

Josephine

Okay.... Okay you know that's good, actually.  I know uh, some people with head injuries only remember half their day. At least you uh, probably aren't too damaged?  Maybe. We hope so. We had nothing to do with it by the way.

Dylan

Wait, I thought Riley--

Josephine

Shush, shush shush...shhh *covering Dylan's mouth who says something muffled but that vaguely sounds like "what about the fish?"*

Voice 3, probably Riley

*Muffled laughs*

Faust

Uh...  Can I go home now? *Unsteadily getting to feet*

Josephine

Maybe that's for the best--

Dylan

*Loudly interrupting* We gotta talk about the thing!

Faust

Wh..what?  Thing?  I .. what?

Dylan

*Getting louder* the thing you did!  We saw you do the thing!  *Excited pointing*

Josephine

Dylan....

Riley 

He's right 

Faust

I don't-

Dylan

The-- the turtle thing, you made it go... Woosh?  No no, not a woosh.  More like a... A... Little... Tap...?

Faust

Look, I don't know what you saw, but it's not anything you need to... Do anything about. A turtle was stuck on his back, I... I watched him, some wind or-or something blew and he walked away. You can't... *Prove* anything else happened

Riley

Ain't getting away that easy bud, I asked the turtle, she said she was good and stuck before she felt a gentle push over.  I asked about the wind, she said there weren't any.

Faust

... You asked the--

Riley 

Doesn't matter.  ... So do ya know the x-men?

Lucas

We are *not* the x men

Dylan

I'm more of a y man myself.

Josephine

*Urgently* You guys are gonna overwhelm him...

*Incoherent chattering and bickering as the group discusses what they're going to do. Some words are discernable, such as "how are we gonna tell 'im" and "the professor said..." "hey what about the fish"*

Faust takes advantage of this by edging along the wall of the alleyway they had taken him to before breaking into a sprint when he clears the group. 

Lucas

... Should we chase him?

Josephine

NO!

Riley and Dylan (overlapping with each other and Josephine)

Yes!!!

Riley

Majority rules!  *She breaks into a sprint into the darkness of the night, her form shifting into a sleek four legged beast as she runs*

Dylan

Yeah!  *Runs towards where Faust went as well*

Josephine

Wait-- no, stop. Ugh.  Can you believe these guys *she turns to Lucas, but sees that the spot he was in is now empty*

*Muttering* dammit...

Faust is breathing hard as he runs, finding himself in a nearby shopping district.  He loops around a few times, coming face to face with a giant reptile like creature with glowing markings that he fled from with a scream

Faust

*Between breaths* I... Have... *No* idea where I am.

He ends up at a dead end and looks around, it's empty and seems like a safe place to bunker down.  He turns to the entrance of it and takes a peek out, seeing no one but hearing running in the distance.  He turns back around to see if he can hide behind something, only to literally run right into Lucas.

Lucas

Hi.

Faust

OH JESUS F-- what, Why,  ...How?

*Lucas shrugs, his face indifferent as he leans against the wall of the alleyway, sliding down and sitting on the ground.*

Faust

Um... Aren't you gonna like... Grab me and take me back?  That's how this works right?

Lucas

*Grunts and shrugs again, taking out a pack of cigarettes*. Want one, blondie?

Faust

Uhm... No, i-i don't think they're very y'know, healthy?

Lucas

Well, picking your gums when you’re stressed isn’t healthy either.

Faust, stopping what he was doing

Fair enough....

-silence for a bit-

So uh...  What... Kind of music do you listen to...?

Lucas

*Quietly stares* that... Was not what I was expecting you to ask.

Faust sits down next to Lucas, deciding that he was safer in the alleyway than running around a place he didn't know at whatever time of night it was.  They sit in silence for a while. 

Faust nervously looks at Lucas and then away from him a few times, trying to stutter out words. 

Lucas

(interrupting the stuttering) So, blondie, seems like you have a fun little party trick you can do, hm?

Faust

I don't...

Lucas

Riight

Faust 

Listen, I don't know what you want but--

Lucas

Listen.  *He throws aside the cigarette* There's nothing wrong with what we saw, exactly, but there are people out there who can and will take advantage.  If you just... Hear them out, I think it would make a lot more sense.  I don't really like being pulled around either, but at least we don't have to deal with fighting government goons or whatever would come after us. 

Faust

I-- ... I dont-- ... *takes a breath* o-okay.

Lucas nods as the sounds of footsteps come closer, Faust turns his head to the source of the noise. 

Lucas

You never saw me. 

Faust 

*Turning back* I-- *the alleyway is empty*. .... Right, might as well, I guess.  *Sighs*

Dylan is panting and leans against a wall while trying to get his breath back 

Dylan

Hey... Faust...  Don't skip leg day... Or you'll end up like this.  *He half sits down and half collapses*

*Josephine and Riley wave as they walk over*

Riley 

Told ya I smelled him over here

Josephine

... So you could of tracked him without giving him a heart attack this whole time?

Riley

*Considers for a second* ... Nahhh.

Josephine rolls her eyes before addressing Faust

Sorry about ... All this *she sweeps her arms around as if referring to everyone* We want to talk to you, truly we do.  The rest got ahm... A little excited?  We didn't think we'd find anyone like you this soon to be honest.

Faust

It's, it's fine, I needed to get some uhm... Exercise anyway.

Dylan

where's Lucas?

Riley

Probably jumped off a building to get to bed faster

Faust

Wait what, what did you, what?  Wait w-wait --wait!  Is-is he okay?

Riley

 *talking over Faust*. So anyway,  We got a proposition for ya.  How'd ya like to live with all your living expenses paid while learning how to use your powers n'... Other boring education stuff.

Faust 

not going to lie, that sounds like a scam.

Riley

... yea I said that too. 

Josephine

It's not though!  Truly, the Professor seems like a really nice dude, if not a little...

Riley

he's super weird dude, but not in a bad way, like cool weird.

Josephine

... Eccentric.

Faust: ... Not sure if I can deal with more of that, to be honest.

Josephine

Listen, we really think that it'd help, we... Haven't quite started yet ourselves but... It all seems really nice.

Faust

 ... So you're bringing me into something that you don't even know 

Josephine

 I.. uh...

Riley

Sorta.

Dylan

We get extra credit if we help find more people!

Josephine

 *grabbing at Dylan to try to quiet him down, he tries talking while muffled by her hand*

Faust

Oh.  *Sounding legitimately disappointed* so... It's not me.  You just want to get some extra benefits then?

Josephine 

*Sheepishly* I... Was going to tell you?

Faust

Alright.

Josephine

Alright?

Faust 

I'll try this... This whatever it is out.  It's not like anything can get much worse, could it?

Dylan

*Confidently* things always can get worse!

Josephine

*Cutting in* but they won't!  *Quietly* I hope...

Riley

*Handing Faust a bit of paper* here, this is supposedly when the first orientation is, we'd really really really like it if you came with us?  No pressure.

Faust, reading out loud

Dear Student,

To my momentous delight, it has come to my astute attention that you have the unique requirements to be invited to the brand new prestigious Wayward Academy. This is a place for those who do not belong anywhere else, who could not possibly come to their full potential without the support of our diligent staff... (Jeez these are a lot of big words) ... And we wish to formally invite you to our orientation and interviewing process to find out where you can fit in our family.  Any who bring a friend or enemy who also shows potential will receive extra amenities that have not yet been decided upon, but we promise they will be quite a treat! I am excited to also inform you that this letter of invitation also serves as a confirmation of a grant that will be awarded to you if/when you are approved for admittance which will pay for lodgings on or off campus.  I would be honored if you would allow me to interview and learn about your talents and how you would fit in here.  Please consider a visit!

With utmost respect and excitement,

Professor Xavier J. Winter

*Everyone is quiet for a while*

Dylan

well, see ya!  *Leaves*

Josephine

I- uh- we'd really like it if you came.  At least to let us treat you to a meal as an apology for... The trauma of tonight.  Please uh, consider?  *Coughs awkwardly* I'll uh, hopefully see you there...?

Faust

*As he's walking away* I... Guess?

*after a few more seconds*

Faust

... I still don't know where I am.

I found my way home eventually, of course. I guess that's kind of obvious since I'm here and not uh, frozen to death or mugged or eaten by animals.  And uh... I-im honestly not quite sure... What else to say...?

.....

"My dear Faust, welcome to the Academy."