a/n: I call this one ‘shelley tries to write a normal average coffee shop AU but still AGAIN manages to turn the entire thing into some huge fucking space-related metaphor’. Oops
(real talk I worked my ass off on this I swear ok it sounds so dumb but I genuinely think this might be the hardest I’ve ever worked on a fic before hahah ahhahahaha AHah im really tired)
also there’s no ‘amethyst coffee house’ actually on southbank it’s a fictional place
special thanks to my wonderful beta aqua who was such a big help with this fic tysm my Queen <33
summary: Phil, the clumsy Barista working an unstable job in a café along the Thames, always carries around too much spare change and really should stop smoking on his lunch breaks. Dan is a struggling street musician making his fortune in pennies on the south bank of London, another stranger in the city, who deserves so much more than the copper thrown at him by passers-by every day. But London is big, loud and really fucking overwhelming at the best of times, and sometimes, city life doesn’t always go to plan. And that’s okay.
warnings: smut, swearing, very pretentious space metaphors, alcohol, smoking and i think thats about it
words: 19.6k (go get a drink or a snack or smth bc it’s a long one)
(disclaimer: I have no intention of romanticising/condoning smoking. A lot of this fic is about giving it up.)
“Maybe the best thing about London, or any city in general, is how it’s a bit like the universe.
“The city harbours millions and millions of individual lives, seeing trillions of births and deaths of humans, just like the countless life cycles of stars; exploding either to create beautiful supernovas or to burn out without a spark, and that’s something Phil often thinks about. If he were to die tomorrow, the city would keep on breathing. The buildings would keep twinkling into the night. Commuters would still sit in their offices. The sun will keep on rising, and the stars, wherever they are up there, would keep on shining.
Because, most of all, similar to the universe, the city waits for no-one. The city, like the universe, doesn’t give a shit about what happens to you while you’re there, so it’s up to you to find your place in the city, not for the city to find a place for you.”
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“Success doesn’t come on a silver platter. It gets served in mud. You decide whether you’re going to get dirty to clean it”
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