#if i make more of these i might invent a tag for it

[bloopitynoot]

10 Modern* Genius Wei Wuxian- Wangxian Fics

ladysunami kindly gave me so many SVSSS and wangxian recs and I wanted to return the favour!

So here is another tried and true list of fics i've loved that fit in the Genius WY theme.

Parameters:

Wangxian!

Genius WY

Ideally sci fi/or modern setting (one is in the past but the rest are modern).

donghua or book canon; avoid yin iron. (there may be one I recommend that uses yin iron as a wire but not really as a plot device. It's present as a cultivation tool; ie it's good for resentful cultivation).

up to canon gore is chill

bonus if it includes both genus and BAMF WY

I have focused mostly on genius/brilliant fics but I tried to feature fics in which WY is extraordinary in his chosen field. Despite the odds (or not) he may face, he thrives. Many of them contain BAMF energy minus like the situational/workplace centric fics.

If you have a brand of Wangxian fic you want recs for- DM me! I love making these lists.

I hope you enjoy!

1 Wei Wuxian’s Guide to Hacking for Fun and Profit (150301 words) by ArgentInferno

Chapters: 14/14 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, modern cultivation au, Hacker Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, neurodivergent wangxian, Therapy for the win, Fluff, Shenanigans, Lan Wangji isn't good with feelings, Fighting against corruption, Talisman-based tech, Getting Together, Slow Burn, shameless flirting Summary: When Lan Wangji is seconded to the Lanling branch of the Cultivation Bureau, he expects a boring rotation. Perhaps a lonely one, but he is accustomed to loneliness, and duty is duty. He doesn’t expect to be partnered with an over-exuberant ex-criminal with far too much enthusiasm for hacking, making mischief, and annoying Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian is everything Lan Wangji despises in a cultivator – he’s loud, unruly, and has no respect for anything. He’s even proud of what he did to get arrested in the first place. Unfortunately, he’s also very good at what he does. If Lan Wangji is going to figure out why someone with a talent for both hacking and talisman curses is targeting certain prominent members of Lanling’s high society, he’s going to need all the help he can get, for it’s far from a normal case. Solving it might put both him and Wei Wuxian in the crosshairs of some very powerful people on both sides of the law. Then again, given Wei Wuxian’s predilection for explosive experiments, working with him might be most dangerous part about the whole mess.

NOTES: I love this fic so much. I love when WY is a 'criminal' but all of the acts he was charged for were because he was being just- it feeds my activist heart. That paired with him being the best at hacking is so solid in this. Bless LZ for being as open as he is in this story!! This is a solid hacker with magic fic.

2 Starting at the End (19829 words) by katie_elizabeth

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Romance, Getting Together, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Pining Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Pining Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Misunderstandings, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, Rimming, Thirsty Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Virgin Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Summary: Wei Ying is confident that once he has a patent on the books, he'll be able to bring his coffins into funeral homes nationwide. They're biodegradable, affordable, and attractive–what more could a dead person desire? Unfortunately, for all of his talents in invention, Wei Ying isn't well-equipped for tackling bureaucracy. Hence, the need for a patent lawyer: a smart, intimidating, and extremely sexy patent lawyer from Lan & Sons. He sees it coming, like a car crash in slow motion: he is going to embarrass himself.

Notes: Okay I know this entire premise is screaming crack, but it is super cute LOL. Genius inventor WY has a lot going for him, but one skill he does not have is in patents. He decides to visit a patent lawyer but then cannot stop harassing the guy. super crackish, definitely not BAMF, but no denying WY isn't brilliant. This is a solid palette cleanser of a fic.

3 With No Particular Affection (92397 words) by Chrononautical

Chapters: 14/14 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kid Fic, Miscommunication, Family Drama, Jiang Fengmian and Yu Xiyuan's A+ Parenting, Canon typical consent during sex, canon typical violence revamped for a modern setting, canon typical behavior from villains and honestly I toned it down a lot, Good Uncle Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Genius Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Street Kid Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Homelessness, Rich Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Oblivious Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan's canon typical communication skills, Cinnamon Roll Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Has a Pregnancy Kink, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Has a Fear of Dogs, background blink and you'll miss it nielan, Curtain Fic, not literally but I feel like I should warn for that, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst Summary: A prominent physicist and professor, Wei Ying has built a life for himself in Chicago. He's safe, he's happy, and he has plans for his future. Unfortunately, those plans are derailed the moment he finds out his brother is in trouble. To save the family business, it will have to be Wei Ying's life on the line. He has to marry his old high school crush, Lan Zhan.

NOTES: If you like family serial dramas, this is the fic for you. We have; powerful families, genius WY, guilt tripped adoptee, business struggles, arranged marriages for capital gain, and children! It really cannot get more over-the-top dramatic. I also especially love that WY is a genius but acts as though he is aloof (even though he knows exactly what he's doing) it just adds to the vibes.

4 a tide in two seas (80932 words) by occultings

Chapters: 10/10 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Parallel Universes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Established Relationship, Mild Horror, Case Fic, mildly sci-fi, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Reconciliation, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Married Couple, Love Confessions, Weird Plot Shit, i honestly don't even know how to tag this fic but there is freak4freak occurring, Podfic Available Summary: A midnight train, two unexpected encounters, and a rift in spacetime.

NOTES: This fic screams sci-fi and it is so rad. Cultivation is a thing, but so are space-time rifts. WY is so cool in this!! He is incredibly smart but also a certified badass with his time and space jumping. When cultivator LZ and rift jumper WY collide on a mission- we get this beauty of a fic.

5 The Shade of Old Trees (363665 words) by Kryal

Chapters: 25/25 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Ridiculously Long Notes, Alternate Universe - History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Slow Burn, 300k+ Words, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Summary: “We rest in the shade of trees our ancestors planted.” They called the man in the ice Yiling Laozu, after a folk hero associated with the town in the foothills of the mountains where he was found. No one expected him to be alive!

NOTES: Okay I have posted this fic before but I absolutely LOVE it. The premise is so damn cool. Loads of scholars, scientists in a world with (seemingly) no magic there is a man in ice who awakens. Part case-fic, part romance, this is really a neat fic. A twist in the end too. WY is both so damn smart but also a BAMF.

6 We Meet at the Thousandth Step (315914 words) by Rynne, Admiranda

Chapters: 44/44 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign (Modao Zushi), Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze Live, Rogue Cultivator Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Night Hunts (Modao Zushi), Genius Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Inventor Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, Wei Wuxian's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Wei Wuxian Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Honeymoon, Wangxian's Baby Fever Series: Part 1 of The Different Paths We Tread Summary: As they both go wherever the chaos might be, Lan Wangji and rogue cultivator Wei Wuxian, eldest child of the famous Cangse-sanren, find their paths converging. Soon they'll discover in each other the perfect partner for night hunting…and beyond.

NOTES: A favourite brand of fic is when Wei Wuxian's parents survive and he thrives. This is very much that! We get to see the brilliance that is WY, but we also get to see him fall in love with LZ in a way that has no strikes against him in a canon divergent world. This is an unbelievably sweet case fic. This is the one fic set in ancient fantasy times

7 Sometimes When We Touch (80763 words) by AitchNKay

Chapters: 19/19 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Characters: Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wen Qing (Modao Zushi), Wen Ning | Wen Qionglin, Jin Zixuan, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi Additional Tags: Modern Era, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: A modern day AU where Wei WuXian is a doctor who has his whole world taken away from him. And a former classmate who is so willing to give it all back to him.

NOTES: This is less a BAMF fic and more- WY is brilliant at what he does and deserves the recognition fic. I am not going to lie WY goes through a lot but the ending is happy! The angst surrounds the Jiangs especially Madam Yu- in the fact that they controlled and subsequently ruined his life and career. it does get resolved though thanks to the power of Wangxian.

8 Nursery Rhymes (96858 words) by manaika

Chapters: 13/13 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: they're all hopelessly flawed, No Therapy, Minor Character Death, character with a neurological condition (minor), Cameos, Inexperienced Wei Ying, Experienced Lan Zhan, Romance, Reconciliation, Budding Love, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Unreliable Narrator, a bunch of them actually, Medical Inaccuracies, Slow Burn, Flashbacks, Past Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Found Family, Foster Care, Past Injury, Nurse! Wei Ying, Doctor! Lan Xichen, Teacher! Lan Zhan, Character With A Heart Condition (Major), Past Incarceration (Major Character), Underage Character With Leukemia (Minor), it's actually very sweet, Captain Of The Heavy Cruiser WangXian Lan Xichen, Vicecaptain Of The Same Ship Jiang Yanli, almost everyone makes an appearance (see character tags), Music is a Love Language, Podfic Welcome, Fanart Welcome Summary: Lan Xichen is a pediatrician who often treats child abuse cases for various foster homes, orphanages and social workers for free. He's currently looking for a second nurse because Luo Qingyang is freshly back from maternal leave and can't be expected to work full time with a baby on hand and none of her substitutes were up to the task. Enter Wei Ying with a semester worth of med school, stellar recommendations, a huge gap in his CV and a laugh bright and warm as the sun. Skeptical at first, Xichen decides to give the man a chance. He gets more than he bargained for with exactly zero regrets.

NOTES: Following the previous dr wei ying fic, we have another healthcare worker wy fic! WY is brilliant at what he does but due to circumstances in life he struggles to get a job where he thrives. Xichen takes a chance on him and it ends up being glorious. WY is brilliant in this fic but he is also a bit of a bamf with the way he takes on child abuse cases. CW for mentions or child abuse though- it features a lot in this fic because that's what happens in pediatrics. But it has happy endings all around.

9 Hear a song this deeply (87424 words) by so_shhy

Chapters: 16/16 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, modern cultivation au, Kind of academia AU, Music, Kid Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Action/Adventure, To An Extent, Background XiYao - Freeform, canon-typical Meng Yao behaviour, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, we love us some tragic backstory, Happy Ending, for wangxian at least, [slaps fic] this baby can fit so much plot in it Summary: “I’m not here to help you with your work,” said Lan Zhan, injecting frost into his voice to deter any further attempts at charm. “I’ll be focusing on my research.” Wei Ying cocked his head. “Research?” he said. “Mm. I’m a cultivation researcher, not a department employee. I’m reconstructing the ancient musical cultivation techniques of the Lan clan.” _ Lan Zhan’s new liaison at the Caiyi Municipal Cultivation Department is an enigma – ridiculously talented, yet somehow content with mopping up spiritual pests for barely above minimum wage. Wei Ying is slapdash and irresponsible, and Lan Zhan doesn’t like him at all… but then he meets A-Yuan, who loves music and longs for a piano his father can’t afford. Forced into cautious friendship by a four-year-old's music lessons, Lan Zhan soon realises Wei Ying is more than he seems. The single father is a man of many secrets – including, perhaps, the key to Lan Zhan's life's work. And in the meantime, the background resentment in Caiyi Town is rising to dangerous levels…

NOTES: I love this modern cultivator au because WY is straight up a secret genius. He is broke for sure but works so hard and does his job well (albeit a little bit unorthodox and wildly unsafe). This features both BAMF and genius WY and we get a slowburn with wangxian which is <chefs kiss>. We also get little a-yuan! Heads up there is angst in present and past but the ending turns out for Wangxian.

10 when the sun goes out (176383 words) by travelingneuritis

Chapters: 22/22 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations, Horror, Canon Temporary Character Death, Cultivation Sect Politics (Modao Zushi) Summary: Wei Ying was so strong, that was the thing. He needn't have sought out alternate methods at all. He didn't need to use talismans, he only did it for his own amusement. He invented new ones all the time. Useless ones, and silly ones; inventing just for the sake of it. He talked about tech cultivation like it was fun, not an embarrassment. You can fit a lot of living into the end of the world.

NOTES: I had not heard of TechnoMancy before this fic and the premise is so damn cool. I will warn this is like 70% angst but the ending pans out! I cried so much in this fic; mainly because of how the author chose to tell the story. The writing was really cool and immersive. Normally I hate when I cannot distinguish the time/place of a scene but this was done so well. Bonus for added art! This is the fic with the yin wire

[the-dragon-girl-27]

I just noticed I never showed off this one art I did while making the most recent chapter of my webcomic. I'm tryna do these lighting tests to get better at doing lighting and stuff for my comic, IDK if it helps or not but it probably is useful at getting more cohesive color schemes. I'm trying to not pick colors super arbitrary anymore and stuff like i did in early chapters. I think its kinda sorta paying off.

I'm using cliping masks and blend modes recently to make quick and eazy lighting. useally its a few on the characters to add light and shadow basically I

>clip the layer with the blend mode to the layer that contains the characters

>use airbrush to add the color (gives a nice subtle gradient)

>use layer mask to erase the parts I don't want (almost always on the shadow layer) you can also just erase it on the layer if you don't know about layer masks or if its not in whatever software you use but with layer mask if you fuck up you can undo it

>add a layer or two with a subtle blend mode to tie the image together (useally one that can effect the pure black lineart like screen or hard light)

personally i think it really enhances the scenes it makes it feel more atmosphery, the orange lighting looks so good on Leon's hair mmmm (also just realized i fogor to color Leon's eyes and mouth aaaaaa)

Also while showing off this art because this basically turned into a big behind the scenes post it also made me feel like showing off this ref sheet which i never have actually done before now that I think about it. (i ended up simplyfying the bandage on Red's face for the comic, this does make more sense as a bandage for a serious injury compared to the actual one looking like a shitty band-aid but its distractingly detailed and it would be annoying to draw 50 times)

normally I also draw a back veiw but I was lazy and these outfits are pretty straightforward anyway i'm sure I'll never forget to draw a back veiw in sceneroes where it is important (forshadowing~)

maybe I'll show more refs at some point in the future lol tho some are pretty old and bad (if yall want me to show any in particular I probably can)

anyway this was originally just gunna be the first image but turned into a sorta rant tutorial how fun, should i make more posts like this, who knows, if people find it intresting maybe

[lunarharp]

Very important conferences.

[moe-broey]

Had. An extremely funny vision to revamp Moe's staff.

The design isn't super final, I can never really decide how I want the accents to look... trying to keep them in line with how the Askr trio's weapons look. Especially the signature color magic glow that's present in their special arts!!!

Anna has it too!!!!! You just don't see it bc her art gets cut off in game. Also, additional image bc you don't see the handle v well in her special.

Which is why, here, the green gem is most prominent on Moe's weapon.... geen....... idk if I'm keeping the other ones that look like the summoning circle orbs. It was just something I wanted to try out!

BUT. BUT. The Main Idea here is that Moe added its own touch to the staff. Yeah, the dangly halo was a Neat idea, but this concept is just so much funnier to me..... says SO much about Moe as a character... it is ALWAYS. Making and customizing things. I can also see Moe using the carabiner practically as well! Now, I wonder why it held onto those two feathers in particular... 🤔

[astonmartinii]

we don’t play about halloween | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem reader

max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 607,344 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: yes we dress up to carve pumpkins, it’s rude if you don’t.

view all comments

user1: gosh they are so cute

user2: did max just dress as himself whenever he’s within 5ft of y/n?

maxverstappen1: i get why the americans don’t play about the statue of liberty

yourusername: i think they should build one of you in zandvoort

maxverstappen1: and they still wouldn’t worship it as much as i worship you

yourusername: i literally light candles in your name and pray for you with you mum, i think i worship you more sorry

maxverstappen1: the ONLY loss i’ll take

user3: i feel lonely year round because of them but it’s SO much worse during halloween

user4: they are the definition of the couple costume they invented it and they PERFECTED it

landonorris: i thought your apartment was a safe space, why did i get harassed over my costume?

yourusername: it was more of the lack of costume? “streamer” does not count

landonorris: who actually dresses up to carve pumpkins?

maxverstappen1: COOL PEOPLE

yourusername: imagine not dressing up and having an awful pumpkin … could never be me

landonorris: STOP BULLYING ME

maxverstappen1: do better then.

user5: obsessed with how peace and love y/n is for the whole year but as soon as someone doesn’t care about halloween it’s fight time

charles_leclerc: remind me to never accept an invite to a halloween event at the verstappen-l/n household - far TOO much stress

yourusername: but you’re like the only one who deserves an invite to next year because the air max costume slayed

maxverstappen1: i might even let you back on it

charles_leclerc: might???

maxverstappen1: follow me on instagram

yourusername: 2019 was so long ago we really need to move on

danielricciardo: you seriously underestimate just how petty these men are

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 894,560 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: halloween is a full family affair

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user8: JIMMY AND SASSY I CAN'T

user9: yall looking at the croissant and the lobster i'm focusing on AMY AND NICK?

user10: has max even seen this film?

maxverstappen1: nope i just like doing the costumes y/n wants to do

user11: i wish i had enough friends to have like ten billion halloween parties

oscarpiastri: i didn't know what to expect but i did not think i was going to see alex trying to drown george at the apple bobbing station

yourusername: i let them work out their own mess as long as they don't accidentally flood our living room again

oscarpiastri: AGAIN?

maxverstappen1: f1 drivers are just competitive about apple bobbing as they are about driving

alexalbon: in my defence there is a sick trophy for the champ i simply cannot let anyone else win it

user12: they got a trophy made? and girlies are serious about this?

yourusername: custom trophies for apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and best costume

alexalbon: three time apple bobbing champ right here

charles_leclerc: i'm coming for best costume this year

danielricciardo: pumpkin carving was an easy dub last year

maxverstappen1: but no one has out done us for costumes thus far

yourusername: and that's not bias, there is a democratic voting process x

user13: i need to be in this friendship group right now

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 723,409 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year ! thanks to everyone who came out and making the spooky season special. p.s. shout out to max who found this wig while going through our costume box and insisted on not taking it off the whole set up.

view all comments

user16: NOOOOO WHY IS HALLOWEEN OVER ALREADY

user17: rip to all of us who were hoping for a sexy y/n x max costume

user18: they heard we wanted sexy and gave us ratatouille i hate their asses

oscarpiastri: okay so lando wasn't lying when he said you guys go insane for halloween

yourusername: i fear not. i hope you enjoyed your dip in the pool, we found you in a guest room in my bath robe at 3am

oscarpiastri: oops.

maxverstappen1: you fared better than others on their rookie halloween appearance, just ask lando and charles

landonorris: you told me there was no alcohol in the jelly so it's not my fault i ate the whole bowl and threw up in your shower

yourusername: wow way to blame the victims there lando, you literally blocked the drain

landonorris: MAX SAID THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL

yourusername: it was labelled with the ingredients. you just can't read

landonorris: no comment

yourusername: and charles got so drunk that he decided he would sleep on the couch but got 'lonely' and insisted on cuddling with us

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!! YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT A SECRET

maxverstappen1: don't worry we thought it was cute

carlossainz55: wait is that why you came as a "cuddle bug" this year?

charles_leclerc: NO

alexalbon: and that must be why he got best costume RIGGORY

yourusername: no riggory here, you and lily as mavis and jonathon were a close second

user19: i won't rest until i have an invite next year.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 821,309 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: sorting the recycling with your head barely attached is always the worst part of halloween

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user20: drunk max looks like so much fun

yourusername: i think i might drink my weight in coffee today but i need to see the kitchen floor soon before i lose my mind

user21: ma'am i know you're clinging to life rn but can we know who won what?

alexalbon: ALEX ALBON APPLE BOBBING CHAMP FOUR YEARS IN A ROW

charles_leclerc: i won best costume and it's purely because i'm cute cause NO one there knew about my cuddling escapades last year

landonorris: ugh pretty privilege back at it again

charles_leclerc: jealousy is a disease get well soon

oscarpiastri: my pumpkin ended up winning !! turns out people love a kangaroo in the ghostface mask

maxverstappen1: first rookie to win that title (i am so impressed by the kangaroo)

yourusername: you were actually so good you have to help me with all the decorative ones next year

oscarpiastri: i'm in

user21: but who won the real award - most embarrassing moment?

maxverstappen1: daniel got stuck in the door in his inflatable horse/cowboy costume

danielricciardo: NO esteban dressing as the cheese string man was worse

estebanocon: that's real creativity at least i didn't fall asleep in the bath like carlos

yourusername: not to gang up on carlos but the blanket you took in their is damaged beyond repair and i request a replacement

carlossainz55: fair, but it was me, lando and george in the tub

georgerussell63: fake news @carmenmundt

carmenmundt: i was also at the party babe, it was impressive how you all fit in there

user22: the fact they do all of this and race like two weeks later and the teams just deal with it

maxverstappen1: we've done much worse on race weekends

yourusername: someone didn't have to try and get home after abu dhabi 2021, halloween is nothing compared to that

note: a lil halloween one for you all. i also DO NOT PLAY ABOUT HALLOWEEN. and am currently planning my costume lol. just wanted to get a small one out before all my work comes in tomorrow, much love xx

[annabelle--cane]

tone indicators came about because a lot of platforms have strict character limits (twitter, tiktok, tumblr tags, etc) and because any text communication done primarily via phone keyboard will trend towards abbreviations, so a lot of the time adding a quick "/gen" to a sentence might make more sense than a whole "asking genuinely here" clause. it's also appealing to many people because it's a way of clarifying jokes and quips without having to reconfigure the entire joke so it loses it's punch, ex. "blocking you rn /lh" reads differently than "don't take this seriously but I'm blocking you over this." if they don't appeal to you or you can't remember all the abbreviations or you find them otherwise confusing, that's all fine, you can simply not use them, but they aren't pointless nonsense words. I don't know if you know this but sometimes teens invent slang that makes sense to them but not older generations and this is what is regarded as "fine."

[stupidlittlespirit]

Just For Tonight (Valentines Special)

Rating: NSFW, mdni Type: Longform Tags: Fake dating, no use of pronouns for reader, messy kissing, pretending to be in a relationship, making out, Reigen being a cheapskate, flirting, riding, fingering, PIV sex, glasses!reigen Word count: 9630 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3!

There's a nice new sushi place in town. It's a shame they're only offering discounts for couples....

“Valentine's day is a total scam,” declares Reigen, feet kicked up on his desk and lounging in his desk chair. “It’s so lame.”

It’s 5PM on a Wednesday afternoon and work is drawing steadily to a close. You’re filing the last few pieces of paperwork for today, tidying up your things before you head home for the evening, and all you’ve done is ask if any of your colleagues are doing something nice tonight for the lauded day.

In his typical fashion, however, Reigen has seized the opportunity to launch into a pointless spiel about his one-sided beef with made-up events and how much he doesn’t buy into them.

“It’s a capitalistic concept invented to sell cheap, poor quality products marked up by like, five hundred percent, to dumb idiots that are so blinded by love that they’ll part with cash hand over fist just to prove how much they allegedly care about someone,” Reigen yaps away. “Don’t people care about the integrity of love? People should show how they feel every day, not just when society tells them they have to. It’s a dumb holiday. It’s stupid. Totally ridiculous.”

“I heard that fancy new sushi place is doing half off for couples,” says Ekubo, floating aimlessly past your head.

“Half off?” says Reigen without missing a beat. “For real?”

You roll your eyes from behind your laptop and click it shut. Trust him to only care when he can save a few Yen.

“Yeah,” Ekubo yawns. “I was gonna go down there and haunt a few couples. Y’know, spoil their day or whatever.”

“Nice,” you snort, wafting the spirit away from your face. “That doesn’t scream bitter at all.”

Ekubo grins. “Gotta make entertainment somehow, honey. You have no idea how boring it is to be dead.”

It’s hard to look disapproving when you’re laughing but you shoot him a look anyway.

Reigen snatches his feet off of the desk and sits up straight, his chair creaking with the abrupt motion. He taps away on his PC, lightning fast, and makes a sound of interest. “Holy shit,” he says. “Looks like you’re right. Half off food and drink.”

Ekubo ignores him and turns his attention to you. “Any plans?”

You shake your head. While you’d rather not give him the satisfaction, you partly agree with Reigen. The holiday is a made up scam; almost every restaurant and bar in the city ups its prices under the guise of special dinners and intimate drinks, filling their windows with hearts and flowers and corny banners about love.

Being single on Valentine’s is even worse. No one wants to go out alone and the commiseration prize for being so is a condescending offering of dating events and pathetic ‘self love’ bullshit. It's unbearably sad and you'd rather drink a bottle of wine alone in the bath than be seen to engage in any of that shit.

Still, the thought of spending it with someone you have feelings for is, in theory, very attractive. It's just a shame the only person you want is sat two meters away and very much not interested in doing anything of the sort.

Bottle of wine in the bath it is, you think.

Once everything is packed up, you wish them both good nights and make your excuses to leave. Reigen lets you go without even looking up from his laptop and you decide that tonight, more than one bottle might be needed.

♡

At six thirty, just as you pour your first glass, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You pick it up and flip it open, hoping this isn't going to be a late night call to come in to work even earlier tomorrow morning.

[Reigen] - are you free?

You stare at the message and another one comes in straight afterwards.

[Reigen] - obviously you are.

That’s a little hurtful but it’s not like he’s wrong. Why? you message back.

Three dots show up as he types, then they disappear, then return, and after a few minutes another message buzzes through.

[Reigen] - Emergency, meet me ASAP.

He pings through an address in the City and briefly, you're worried that he might be in trouble. The office diary hadn't listed any out of hours clients for tonight and it would be unlike Reigen to take a job that he couldn't handle alone; Serizawa is at night school this week to cram for exams and Mob is busy with his friends, so nothing is due to come up.

Another text comes through.

[Reigen] - and wear something nice.

You have absolutely no idea what he means by that, however if Reigen says it's an emergency then you'll never forgive yourself if you leave him high and dry. The last thing you want is for him to get hurt.

Must be a posh client, you think. Last minute demands for your presence are usually related to a high paying job, so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he needs you to butter up a stuffy customer and show off some leg to make a sale. It wouldn’t be the first time and you usually get a good commission for your troubles. It’s easy money.

Sighing, you screw the cap back on your wine bottle and down the half-full glass in record speed.

It’s better than moping about alone.

♡

You make it there in thirty minutes, give or take. The short notice gives you just enough time to make yourself presentable, pick out an outfit and make it into the city, yet by some stroke of luck you manage to catch the last train into central.

The address isn’t far from the office and with a brisk pace, you make it in good time. It’s busy out here tonight. It’s hardly unexpected. You’re in the food district on a major holiday, throngs of people are wandering through here at the best of times.

What is, however, is the sight that greets you when you arrive at the map’s marked location.

Reigen is standing outside a dimly lit restaurant, browsing his phone in one hand and clutching a lush looking bouquet of roses in the other. You almost walk right past him, he's unrecognisable without his usual suit and tie; he's dressed in navy slacks and a perfectly white dress shirt, silver glasses on the end of his nose and hair styled nicely. He looks good.

“Reigen?” You ask, approaching him warily.

At the sound of his name, he glances up from his phone briefly to see who’s asking and double takes. He looks a little surprised to see you and you have to admit that you feel similarly.

“Oh,” he says, looking you up and down. “You made it.”

“Where’s the emergency?” You frown, looking past him to search for awaiting clients.

Reigen clears his throat and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, towards the restaurant. “Here.”

There are no concerned looking people waiting around behind him. In fact, the entire place looks to be filled with couples who are anything but. You glance between him and the shop front again, and wait for him to expand on why you’re here.

Reigen stares back at you for a moment and then proffers the bouquet. “Here,” he says, a little flushed in the face. “You like flowers, right?”

You stare at him, clearly confused, but you take them from him all the same. They’re roses, deep red and freshly cut, tied together in layers of pink paper that rival the colour on his cheeks. You have to admit, they're lovely.

“What are these for?” You ask, laughing. “Where are the clients? You said there was an emergency.”

Reigen looks slightly guilty and you realise, after a moment, that there isn’t any client. No one needs your help and there doesn't appear to be any spirit floating around to cause bother. Now that you think about it, the front of this place seems vaguely familiar and when you look again, you realise he’s totally played you.

“This is that fucking sushi place, isn’t it?” you sigh, shifting the flowers into the crook of your arm. If what Ekubo had said is true, it’s not like you’re going to get to take advantage of the discount he so desperately wants. “Reigen, we're not exactly….” You gesture between you both and the words that go unsaid are obvious: ‘a couple’.

“Look, they’re doing fifty percent off the whole menu!” Reigen launches into his reasoning and you can tell he’s practised it. “It’s just for tonight, and we don’t have to do anything except look like we are, right? They won't know any different!” He pouts slightly for good measure and you hate that it works so well on you. It always does. “Plus, they sell that swanky shrimp shit and I really wanna try it…. Please?”

The flowers suddenly make sense.

“Are you asking me to date you for the night?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. The concept is hardly unappealing. Reigen is cute and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Well, thinking about it and dreaming about it are two very different things and the little candle you hold for him has only been getting bigger over time.

You’ve kept it quiet for the most part; the only person in the office that has any vague idea is Ekubo. He’s perceptive enough to have caught you looking when no one else is and although he's sworn to keep it a secret, you suppose if he isn't around then you can get away with playing things off as pretending.

He shrugs, unabashed in his request.

“Ugh,” is all you say and it's the vague confirmation he needs.

Reigen grins.

He drags you into the restaurant, hand wrapped around your wrist, and announces to the waiter that's taking stock of the visitors that he's booked a table for two. The waiter looks from Reigen, to you, to where he's holding you tightly by your arm.

“Tonight's dinner is for couple's, sir….” He says, looking unconvinced.

Reigen wilts slightly, letting go out of you and gesturing towards the flowers in your arms. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “We are.”

The waiter regards you both with suspicion and Reigen visibly prepares himself to argue with the guy. If you're honest, you'd really rather not cause a scene in an establishment like this by allowing him to fight with the first member of staff he comes into contact with.

The restaurant is clearly not made for people like the two of you: it's modern and luxurious, filled with mahogany and crystalline chandeliers, and all the staff look like they've smelled something unsavoury. It's clearly an upper-class joint.

Still, you think it might be nice to take advantage of an opportunity like this and you don't really want to spend tonight by yourself. Besides, you'll never hear the end of it if this gets screwed up and frankly, pretending to be on a date with him is probably as close to the real thing as you're going to get.

Reigen opens his mouth and you take his hand before he can get himself in trouble, slipping his arm around your waist and leaning into his side. He stiffens, looking at you in surprise, but you ignore him in favour of giving the waiter your best loving smile and lean into him.

Reigen smells like musky aftershave and something that’s distinctly him, and it makes your mouth water. “He's just shy,” you laugh, laying it on thick. “Of course we're a couple.”

It's important that you sell the idea first, Reigen had told you after you'd floundered a sales pitch once. Convince them even a little bit and the rest of it sells itself.

The advice is sound enough and you decide that the situation calls for a little more manipulation in order to close the sale and get the fucking stupid shrimp your boss wants. If nothing else, this'll teach him a lesson for tricking you into things. You press a chaste, but decent, kiss to the corner of his mouth and shoot the waiter a look that you hope conveys how much a couple in love would definitely do something like that.

You can feel your body warm up and you will yourself to stay relaxed, hoping your face doesn’t show how silly you really feel.

Reigen isn’t doing as good a job at running with things and he laughs, a little manic and high pitched. He mumbles something about you being right and gingerly squeezes your waist.

The waiter sighs and gestures for you to follow, apparently adequately persuaded.

When you risk a glance at Reigen, he's alarmingly red and slightly sweaty. All of the argumentative energy has left his sails and he seems rooted to the spot, unable to meet your eyes.

It's more than a little entertaining. You slip out of his half embrace and take his hand, having to drag him along in the wake of the waiter when it becomes clear that he’s forgotten how to move independently. “This better be the best fucking sushi I've ever had,” you warn him, but it's hard not to smile when he almost trips over his own feet on the way to the table.

♡

The meal is otherworldly.

It's a testament to how the other half live. You've never had seafood like this before and knowing you probably won't have it again seems to make it all the sweeter. Everything is ten times better than the usual places you go.

Reigen lets you order whatever you want, provided it’s on the discount menu, obviously, and he even shares some of his fancy shrimp with you. Not much, but some.

The atmosphere is nice, too. Admittedly it's very romantic, candle lit and dark, and you suppose that is rather the point of it all. The lights stay low, the music is soft, and even the sushi arrives arranged into cute little hearts.

Your company is even better. Reigen has taken you out to eat before but usually he drags you to a cheap ramen place on the way home from work, and he always makes for entertaining companionship. This, though, is new. You've never actually gone out with him for a proper dinner and the entire time you sit across from him, you can't stop the way your stomach flutters at the thought of spending time like this together. It's silly, really.

It's not like this is a real date, after all. You don’t want to push the boat too far. There’s no sign that he actually feels any way about you beyond needing your compliance for his plan and you don’t want to make an idiot of yourself by getting too into it all.

You're halfway through sharing a round of nigiri when you realise Reigen is holding your hand. You're not sure how you missed him do it to begin with. After you'd sat down to eat, Reigen had been quick to keep himself to himself. The rosy tint to his face had stayed for a long time after your little over the top display and you had assumed he’d been too embarrassed to try something similar again.

Except halfway through dinner, you realise that his fingers are laced with yours as he laughs about a comment Mob had made the day before and he seems completely oblivious to the way his thumb is stroking over your knuckles.

You don't intend to mention it. It feels nice and you can't deny how enjoyable it is to play pretend like this with him, except he must catch your line of sight because he hums into his water glass, starting like it's also the first time he's noticed it, and starts to untangle himself.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I didn't-”

“I don't mind,” you say immediately. You're not sure what makes you blurt it out, but you tighten your grip to prevent him from backing off and surprisingly he gives in with no resistance.

He glances up at you, taken aback, and you try to clarify your meaning with only the tiniest of white lies. “The waiter already thinks we're making it up,” you say hurriedly. “We should probably keep it up until we leave, right? I’m not getting stuck with the full bill.”

Reigen raises his brows, seemingly astounded that you're not horrified by the concept of holding his hand, and he nods quickly to hide the expression. “Good idea,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours again. “Just for a bit longer.”

The hand holding lasts for more than just a bit. Even when you eat, neither of you let go of one another and no one mentions it. Sushi is easy to eat with one hand anyway, so it’s unobtrusive and easily forgotten. In fact, it’s oddly natural.

As the evening ticks on, you both relax enough that you start to forget that you’re supposed to be acting like you’re totally in love. It’s easy to get on with Reigen. You’ve always played off of each other well and this doesn’t feel any different to how you always behave around each other.

Beyond the handholding and the way his knees bump against yours under the table, you could be anywhere with him right now and you���re not sure you’d notice the change.

You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse about the situation.

The menu extends to several good wines and some specialty cocktails too, and in spite of the fact that you’re both scheduled to work tomorrow, you’re not shy about indulging. A single glass for you becomes another and even Reigen takes a risk on a second cocktail once he realises they’re serving something with citrus and fizz in it.

By the end of dinner you’re both getting on for being tipsy. Reigen begs off halfway through, a lightweight as usual, and relinquishes his for you to finish instead. It's probably for the best. His face is turning a pretty pink as he leans forward on the table, the alcohol bleeding into his system nicely, and dinner has been far too nice to puke up on the way home.

The alcohol settles in quickly and as mixing drinks tends to do, it goes to your head. You're not quite drunk, but you're not stone cold sober either. You think it might be why you stop paying attention to whatever Reigen is saying and start to let your thoughts wander a bit.

He's busy explaining a job from a few weeks ago, one that according to Mob had been fairly dicey, yet as you polish off the remainder of your glass, you’re not really listening to him brag about how he’d definitely been the one to save the day anymore.

You’re far too busy admiring the view to care about his stories. The fine wine feels like it cushions your mind in velvet, warming you up from the inside out and blurring everything around you except from him.

The chatter of the restaurant has faded away and the intimate lighting makes it feel like it’s just the two of you in here, trading stories and laughing with each other.

Reigen talks with his hands a lot, especially when he's had a drink, and while he expresses how close he’d come to death for the fifth time that day, he rocks your joined hands back and forth in time with his free one.

Reigen has nice hands: they’re wide and square, strong from all of his massages, with thick, long fingers you can’t help but imagine in places entirely unsuited to a public restaurant.

You’re enjoying a mental movie of said fingers on your body when he waves his hand in front of your face. Obviously you’re not doing a good enough job at showing him the attention he so craves.

“You're drunk,” he says, amused at your embarrassed look.

“No, I'm not,” you protest weakly. The stupid smile on your face belays your dishonesty and Reigen is clearly entertained. He blatantly doesn't believe you and you hide a laugh behind your hand. “Anyway, if I am, it's your fault.”

Reigen pretends to look aghast at the suggestion. “I'm your boss, I'd never get my employee drunk,” he scoffs.

“You don't remember having to scrape me off the floor of that bar at the Christmas party last year?” That one had been a particularly messy night out, even for you. You’re still all banned from the place for being idiots.

He smirks and you can see he's recalling it in real time. “That was your fault, not mine.”

“No way, you practically plied me with alcohol,” you say, laughing. “Very irresponsible of you.”

“Shut up,” Reigen grins and nods to the bouquet that’s propped up on the chair beside you. “I’m a great boss! I got you flowers, didn’t I?”

“Only so I’d date you under duress!” You say.

“I mean, sure, but also because you never get anything for Valentine’s.”

You stare at him, totally caught off guard by the confession. For what it's worth, Reigen looks even more surprised that he's said it. “I…. How did you-”

“Uh,” Reigen rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I… heard you talking to Serizawa about it last week.”

You can barely remember the conversation yourself. Serizawa had been talking about seeing flower arranging classes at his school and you'd made a comment whilst Reigen had been in the other room making tea, off the cuff and totally meaningless, about how you'd never gotten them before, not even for Valentine's day. It hadn't been said for any reason other than conversation, but it had been true. Up until now, anyway.

“Reigen, I-” You don't know if you should be over the moon that he cares so much or humiliated that the object of your affection knows about your shitty dating history. “Thank you.” You say finally, giving his hand a squeeze. “I think that's the nicest thing someone has done for me for a long time.”

Reigen shrugs it off like it's nothing and you're reminded of how much you really, really fucking like this guy. He's so sweet and kind and thoughtful, and no matter how frustrating he can be, he makes up for it so easily that you can never hold it against him.

Your head swims and ridiculously, your eyes start to burn a little.

You’d really rather not cry in front of him and very graciously, Reigen pretends not to notice. Instead, he reaches for the desert menu and this time, he tells you to pick whatever you like.

♡

For the last stretch of the night, the two of you share mochi and a couple more cocktails. The wine is a little heavy for dessert and Reigen talks you into splitting drinks so neither of you get completely wasted.

You're using them and his accidental confession over your flowers as an excuse to show a little more affection than you ought to, and he doesn't give the impression that it's a problem for him. He does start a little when you press your ankle to his under the table at one point, but at your apology and attempt to move it back, he catches your foot between his and holds it there without comment.

The casual touch becomes a subtle form of footsie without either of you consciously meaning it to and by the time dinner is done, you're sitting with your legs slotted together. Despite the fact you've let go of each other's hands to eat, everything feels much more intimate than it had at the start of tonight.

On the last few pieces of mochi, Reigen pauses his chewing. “You've got-” He gestures to his lower lip and you realise he's signifying that there's something on your mouth. “S'not much.”

Your hand flies up to seek out whatever he's talking about and you're mortified momentarily, expecting something obvious and gross clinging to your teeth, but your fingers come away clean with only a little powdered sugar on the tips.

“Oh,” you say, with a relieved laugh. “I guess I've had worse on them.” It isn't supposed to sound suggestive and the hidden meaning bypasses you until Reigen opens his smart mouth.

“Yeah,” he mutters, smirking to himself. “I bet.”

His comment comes out of nowhere and you almost choke on air, blindsided by the double entendre.

Reigen realises you've heard him and he turns so red you're sure he could light the entire way home. He panics a little, holding his hands up and starting to stammer out an apology until he realises you're laughing.

It's more than a little funny and you really don't don't mind. In fact, you suddenly wonder how far you can get him to take things. If he's making jokes like that, you're intrigued to see if you can coax out a different side to him. Just because he's your boss, that doesn't mean you both have to be uptight and on your best behaviour all of the time.

And anyway, it's all in good fun tonight. Couples are supposed to flirt, aren't they?

“Are you trying to push my buttons?” You ask, sucking the sugar from your fingertips and smiling over at him.

Reigen's eyes follow the motion and he clears his throat. “No, I-” He glances up at you, eyes searching yours, and you can almost hear the bell go off in his head when he realises he's safe to mess around a little.

A slow grin begins to bloom on his face and, slipping comfortably back into a playful attitude that you always enjoy being around, he shrugs. Reigen sits forward to lean on the table and props his chin up on his fist. “What are you gonna do if I am?” he asks, smirking. “Report me?”

You mirror him, leaning on the table too, and feint innocence. “No idea,” you say, layering on the helplessness. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll have to call HR and tell them my superior is bullying me….”

“Oh yeah?” Reigen's grin grows, cocky and lopsided. “Unfortunately,” he says, taking your hand again without acknowledging it. “I run that department too.”

Biting your lip to hold back a laugh, you duck your head and take the bait he's so clearly dangling in front of you. “Then I have a complaint to make about my boss….”

“Your boss?” Reigen says, tilting his head and pretending to recall who you might mean. He's extraordinarily good at committing to the bit. “Oh, you mean that really good looking, powerful psychic guy?”

“Uh huh,” you laugh softly and you run your toes up his ankle under the table. “Super powerful, very handsome.”

Reigen's eyes dart down toward where you're touching him, unseen, and he clears his throat again. “Handsome, huh?” He says, playing it as cool as he can. “How handsome are we talking?”

“Oh,” You smirk, shrugging one shoulder. It's hard not to break into giggles, not least because he's so cute when he thinks he's being subtle about fishing for compliments. “Enough that I don't mind him pushing a few of those buttons, I suppose.”

You know you're supposed to be joking around. All of this is a joke, a game, and yet…. The way he's allowing your touch, letting you do it back to him, it's impossible not to keep pushing.

Reigen's brow twitches and he grins. “And what if he pushed them harder?”

“I don't think I'd say no,” you sigh happily. “I like my buttons pushed pretty hard.”

“Careful,” Reigen warns playfully. “I heard he's bad news.”

You laugh under your breath. “He's not that bad once you get to know him.”

“You think so?” Reigen asks, eyes searching yours. Nonchalant, he takes your hand again and turns it over until your palm is facing upwards so he can draw slow circles on the soft skin

The sensation makes you shiver. Distractedly, you chew on your lower lip and nod. “Don't tell him, but I think he secretly likes being nicer than he gives himself credit for….”

Transfixed by your mouth, Reigen bites down on a grin. “How do you know what he likes in secret?” he says quietly. “I bet you've never even asked….”

“D'you think he'd tell me?” You say, toeing off your shoe to push your foot past his trouser leg and curl it around his calf. It's risky and stupid, and you can't even play it off as part of tonight's front, but Reigen doesn't seem to mind at all. “If I did.”

Something has changed in his gaze and all of a sudden, it doesn't feel like you're acting the part anymore. The two of you are very, very close together now and the air feels charged, like it's full of static that's pulling you towards him. He's only a few inches away from your face and you can smell the sweet scent of lemon on his breath.

Reigen is still trying to play it cool, working hard to maintain his composure as though he isn't sweating nervously. “Maybe if you show him yours, he'll show you his.”

“Yeah?” The din of the restaurant is distant and muted, like your head is full of cotton wool, and all you can concentrate on is the way he keeps licking his lips.

Reigen meets your eyes again and there's a tiny glimmer of hopeful interest in them. He doesn't appear to be joking anymore. “Go ahead,” he mutters. “Run it by me first.”

You're practically touching noses by now, leant across the table in each other's space, and if you were to tilt your head only a tiny bit, to pull on his hand, to drag him down onto you, you think you might be able to finally get the real kiss you've been dreaming of since you-

“Are you ready for the bill?”

A voice cuts through the woolly atmosphere, loud and abrasive, and both of you almost fall off of your chairs in sheer surprise, jerking away and righting yourselves in your chairs. You whip your foot back, Reigen stops touching your hand, and the intimate air abruptly feels broken and ruined.

“Apologies,” says the waiter, not looking very sorry at all. “But we do need the table.”

You can barely look up at the guy, face burning hot. It feels like you’ve been caught in the broom closet with your boss, doing something far worse than winding each other up, and Reigen seems just as embarrassed. Awkwardly, he takes the small, folded piece of paper from the waiter and reaches into his back pocket for his card.

♡

Reigen pays the whole bill and when you attempt to offer your half, he looks at you like you're insane. Typically, you split the bill with him whenever you go out to eat. He's a cheap bastard and you know better than to expect anything less, but he refuses your offer the second you hold out your own card.

He doesn't even complain about it, either, apparently just happy to have achieved his goal of qualifying for the discount he's been aiming for all night.

Once everything is settled, Reigen calls a cab for you both to share and the whole time you wait for it, you stand arm in arm with him, grinning like idiots and laughing together about cheating the system.

The taxi arrives quickly and in it, you sit closer to him than necessary, warm and toasty against his side.

The journey is quiet to begin with. You're sated and full, and still a little tipsy, so the silence isn't unpleasant. Slumped down in your seat, hiding your face from him, you can't stop turning over the memories of the dinner. He'd been so close to you, so within kissing distance, and you're too nervous to say anything about it in case he laughs you off.

What if he was just playing along? you think silently. What if I'm reading into it? The thought is nauseating. Perhaps you've sold the idea of dating him a bit too hard….

At your side, Reigen clears his throat softly and you shift so that you can see him properly. He’s sitting so close to you that your head is practically on his shoulder, and he looks down at you with a small, soft smile.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For coming. And for, y'know, going along with it. I hope it wasn't too weird.”

“I had a lot of fun, Reigen.” You laugh quietly. “Thank you. It was totally worth it.”

Reigen snorts. “I think we sold it pretty well, too,” he says. “Especially, y’know, on the way in.”

Oh, you think. The kiss.

“Sorry,” you duck your head and laugh, awkward. “I didn’t think he was gonna let us in and, well, you told me to make it work, so….”

He doesn't say anything and risking a look back up, you see that Reigen is watching you closely again, just as he had in the restaurant. Reigen smiles slightly, so warm and soft that your stomach feels like it might climb up your throat, and he looks down at your mouth again.

“Maybe I need to call HR,” he says with a half-laugh. “Kissing a subordinate is probably against some kinda law or something.”

There’s a playfulness in tone, like he's joking and simultaneously trying to see what your reaction to such a comment will be.

You decide to test the water. “Depends on whether the subordinate is into it, I guess….”

Reigen smirks, teasing, and a little bit relieved that you're not backing off. “I dunno, they didn’t get the chance to tell me.”

You realise he’s talking about the conversation you’d had before you had been so rudely interrupted, and your nerves flutter. Tonight has been full of flirting and teasing, and if you're still playing stupid games, you suppose you might as well go all in and see what happens.

You're both tipsy enough that you can play it off if he doesn't go for it. “Well,” you say, biting your lip. “I guess I'm pretty partial to a redhead. Especially if they’re in charge of me.”

“Yeah?” he says quietly, smile growing.

“And men with big mouths that they can't keep shut, too,” you smirk, glancing down at his.

“Noted,” he chuckles, his breath ghosting over your face. “Anything else you like?”

You look back up at his smug expression and decide you can't let him get too ahead of himself. “And swallowing.”

Reigen makes a funny noise, strangled and hoarse, and closes his eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” he murmurs. You can see his throat bob up and down as he tries to compose himself, and when he finally opens them again, he looks like he's struggling to keep it together. A blush crawls up his throat and the look in his eyes is so hungry it makes your knees go weak.

“Fuck HR,” Reigen says, and then sways forward slightly with the motion of the car and, leaning the rest of the way into your space, he ducks his head and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter shut and he cradles the side of your face, turning your head so he can get you exactly where he wants you.

It’s soft and nervous at first, like he's still not sure if he's making the right move and he pulls away almost as soon as he makes contact, only to return without hesitation for a second and a third at your insistent sounds. The chaste kisses become deeper as he lingers, slow and unhurried, and you can taste the sweetness from your desserts and drinks.

It’s so unbelievably fucking perfect.

You press your tongue against his and he gives a low groan, his hand finding your thigh to pull you closer. The kisses keep coming, his fingers trail upwards, crawling closer and closer to your lap, and you drag your teeth over his lower lip when he pulls away to breathe.

Reigen looks like he's had more than just a couple of cocktails to drink now; his face is redder than ever, his gaze glassy, and he's panting against your mouth like he's run a mile. You press another kiss to the corner of his lips and you shift in your seat, encouraging his hand to explore even higher.

He does as he’s asked, thick fingers slipping up between your legs and he leans down again to keep kissing you while he teases you through the fabric of your clothes.

You sigh into his mouth. His touch doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere near enough, the sensation dulled by your stupid fucking outfit, and you try to press up into him to seek out more.

Reigen laughs at your desperation, mumbling a stupid comment about being needy, and you bite his lip again in warning. “Careful,” You whisper, reaching over to palm him through his slacks with a smirk. “Don’t get smart.”

Reigen chokes out a grunt and his hips buck up of their own accord. He’s already hard, tenting his slacks, and you're not about to let him think he's in charge of the show. “HR won’t be happy if they find out I didn’t get my way,” you tut, rubbing his cock up and down slowly. “Then you will be in trouble.... And we don't want that, do we?”

Reigen hisses, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. He stares you down, challenging your gaze, and he smirks at your unwillingness to let him get away with being an asshole. He goes to kiss you again, surging forward, and then the taxi driver clears his throat very loudly.

You're yanked back into your surroundings. The car is parked up outside your apartment, engine running, and the driver is watching you in the mirror. He doesn't look very impressed. “You kids mind taking this somewhere else?”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing and grab your bouquet of flowers, flinging open the door while Reigen grabs whatever cash he has in pocket and flings it into the driver's tray.

He scrambles out of the car, darts around the back and grabs you by the hand, dragging you away and ignoring the guy's shouts of how much he's overpaid.

You only live on the first floor. Your apartment is small and simple, so much so that it hardly qualifies as much more than a shoebox with a kitchen attached, and you have to shuffle around in the hallway in order to let Reigen get inside.

He passes down the hall and makes his way into the main room, and once you’ve locked the front door you go after him. He's hovering about in the tiny living area, hands in his pockets as he inspects your room, and you drop the flowers on your coffee table whilst he’s busy.

This is the first time he’s been in here. On a proper night out, you tend to crash at his if you can’t make it home; it’s marginally bigger than yours and the cab is cheaper, which means his place always wins out. It’s a new experience to have him in your space like this.

“This is nice,” Reigen says awkwardly, gesturing to the apartment at large. “Cozy.” He seems a little stiff, unsure what to do now that he’s here.

You snort, coming to stand in front of him. “What are you, an estate agent?” You put your hands on his chest and guide him backwards until his legs hit the edge of your bed, and he falls back with a soft thump!

Willing and able, Reigen makes room for you between his legs. He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks on as you begin to undress. Your movements are slow and deliberate, never once looking away from him, and you can see his breathing pick up in pace.

He’s hypnotised by every move you make. You shed your clothes until you're in just your underwear, exposed to him, and climb carefully into his lap. You take off his glasses and lean over to deposit them on the bedside table before going back to him.

Reigen's hands come up to hold your waist and he boosts himself upward to restart his feverish kisses. He's ungainly and needy, licking and biting his way back into your mouth while you start to strip him of his dress shirt. You make quick work of the buttons, slipping them out with deft fingers and peeling the fabric away.

You tug at the back of his shirt until it slips free of his slacks, hands wandering over his lower back as you explore his soft skin. Much to your delight, the muddy freckles on his face continue down his shoulders, cascading onto his upper arms and spattering the pale skin like paintbrush flecks.

Reigen's body is slight. Narrow and slim, yet soft at the edges. He isn't very muscular; you know he runs on the weekends and you suppose he stays reasonably fit in order to chase after the others at work, so there's a subtle hint of strength hidden underneath the puppy fat of his stomach.

It's more attractive than it has any right to be.

Without breaking away from his kisses, you slip your hands down his chest and work your fingers under his belt until you reach the buckle, blindly undoing it with practiced skill.

The metal gives way and you slide the leather from the pin quickly to give yourself easier access. You're about to do the same to the buttons when he pulls away from you panting hard and clinging to your hips.

You try to chase his mouth, still pressing open mouthed kisses there while he tries to speak.

“Wait, wait,” Reigen says, voice hoarse. “Hang on.”

“Are you alright?” You ask, leaning back to make sure he's okay.

Reigen looks bashful, eyes searching yours. He goes to say something and then stops himself, visibly nervous about whatever he intends to say. "I…" He sighs, closing his eyes to steel himself. Whatever is wrong, it’s enough for him to reconsider what he's doing.

He doesn't move you off of him, but he suddenly looks like he wants to hide away somewhere. His flirty confidence from earlier is gone, replaced with the same shyness he'd shown when you had kissed him at the restaurant.

You take his face in his hands and force him to look up at you again. “Reigen, what is it? If you're uncomfortable, we can-”

“No!” He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you still. “It's not that, I just…. I'm-” Reigen groans, not out of pleasure but embarrassment, and he buries his face in your shoulder. “I haven't really…. Done this. Before”

“What, fuck an employee?” you say, laughing quietly. “It's alright, I was just kidding about making a complaint, I-”

“No, I mean this,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “Sex.”

You push at his chest until he has to sit up, revealing his cherry red face. He's uncharacteristically out of his depth and you're confused as to what he's saying . “You mean, like, it's been a while?” You ask.

Reigen grimaces, shaking his head. “Like, ever.”

“What?” You don't mean for the shock to show so obviously. He’s clearly already struggling and you gaping down at him like he’s mad won’t help the situation, however the idea that he’s never had sex before is utterly insane to you.

“I’m sorry,” Reigen apologises, avoiding meeting your eyes. He shuffles like he means to get up, jostling you about. “I didn’t wanna say anything, I know it’s stupid I can just go-”

“Reigen, stop,“ you put your hands on his shoulders and he stills, nervously glancing up at you through his lashes. He looks like he expects you to laugh at him, to kick him out now that you know his secret. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it’d be a good topic over dinner,” Reigen huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s embarrassing, obviously.” He’s very obviously humiliated by his admission and it makes your chest ache to see him so uncharacteristically vulnerable.

His point is valid enough; tonight was supposed to be fake, it’s not like there had been any need for him to tell you anything of the sort. Still, you feel a little bad for pushing him so much now. Admittedly it’s a surprise. He always seems to know what to say and being able to talk the talk usually gets you pretty far when it comes to sex, but the more you think about it, the more it starts to make sense.

All throughout dinner, he’d been happy to shoot the shit with you when he’d thought it was just a game, however the moment you’d done anything that even bordered on actual affection, he’d been decidedly less confident. Even in the car, his touches were hesitant and his kisses were unskilled.

You run a hand up his chest to soothe him, watching his tense shoulders relax. “Idiot,” you say, fond. “I don’t care.”

Reigen raises his eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“Not even a little bit,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him again.

Reigen doesn’t stop you. He breathes out heavily through his nose, gradually beginning to calm down, and you decide that things will have to go a little differently than you’d originally intended. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You murmur.

He nods quickly and you trail kisses from the side of his mouth down to his jaw line, open mouthed and hot, and he tips his head back with a groan. His skin tastes slightly salty, probably from sweating so much around you, and you drag your teeth over his pulse point.

Reigen sighs happily. He squeezes your hips, grabbing them gently and digging his blunt nails into the skin.

You slip out of your bra and toss it across the room. You stop bothering his neck in order to sit up, and you guide his hands up from your hips to caress your chest.

His big hands grope at you, squeezing experimentally as he explores the new sights, enjoying himself immensely. It makes you keen under his touch and he grins, his bravery growing at your enjoyment.

You unbutton his slacks whilst he's busy touching you up and slip a hand into them to palm at him through his underwear. Reigen grunts and presses his hips up into you, seeking friction to rut against, and you push down to meet him.

He gasps at the contact, his hold on your hips tightening, and before he can get carried away with dry humping you, you tug at his slacks and force him to stop. “Take these off,” you instruct, climbing off of his lap to give him room.

Reigen scrambles to shove off his trousers, kicking them away with his underwear and shuffling back into place, lightning fast. His eagerness is horribly endearing and it makes you grin. You slip out of your underwear and push him back against the pillows. “Lay back,” you smile.

Reigen does as he's told and with him flat on his back, you can finally see him as exactly as you've imagined. A trail of deep red hair leads down to a small patch that surrounds his thick cock, well kept and neat.

His thighs are curved nicely, long legs stretching down to hang off of your bed, and they show far more evidence of his exercise than his upper body. Regardless, he's gorgeous from head to toe. It drives you insane and you drink in the view for a second.

Reigen begins to look a little self-conscious at your attention. He squirms under your scrutiny and you're quick to settle his fear, straddling his waist and kissing him again until he forgets all about his worry.

You trade touches with him, hands roaming over one another as you make out for a while and Reigen's bravery begins to grow. He's encouraged by your soft sighs and casual exploration of his own body, and quite bravely he walks his fingers down from your hip to your bare pussy.

Your breath catches and you look down to him, giving him the silent go ahead.

Reigen bites his lower lip. He looks excited and shy all at the same time. Very carefully, he runs his fingers along the soft folds of you and studies your face to see how you react to his touches.

You gasp and tilt your body towards him, opening your legs to give him better access to you. His fingertips meet wetness and he makes a soft sound, both interested and surprised, and he trails them through your arousal.

Reigen is so busy investigating the feeling that he seems to forget that you're attached to the other end. He toys with your pussy, listening to you gasp and moan, grinning to himself greedily.

“Reigen,” you whine, reaching down to cover his hand with your own. “Put your fucking fingers in me before I-!”

He does as you ask, pushing one into your cunt and silencing your command. You moan loudly and push down onto his hand, desperately seeking more.

“Should I just….” Reigen looks a little awkward, unsure how to proceed, and with your hand that holds his wrist, you guide his finger in and out slowly.

“Keep doing that,” you sigh. “That's perfect.” The motion makes you shudder and you grab at his shoulder with your other hand. Reigen works his hand up and down, slow and steady as though he has all the time in the world.

You’re so wet that he hardly has to wait to add a second finger and you encourage him along to keep him calm.

Reigen appears to be enjoying the praise you give. His cock is hard against your hip, precum smearing against the skin when you shift, and he rocks into you in time with his fingers.

As he moves his digits within you, you lean back to take hold of his cock, squeezing him gently. Reigen practically mewls when you do so, cock twitching in your grip.

You bring your hand back to spit in it and gently, you coat his cock until it's wet enough to glide your hand along smoothly, starting to stroke him.

Reigen gasps and bucks upward into your hold, desperate for more as he grips the sheets with his free hand. He adds another finger into you carefully, watching your face with barely concealed awe. His fingers inside you burn in the best way, and Reigen's digits curl perfectly to hit your sweetest spot, making you cry out.

He pauses for a second, frightened he might have done something wrong, and you shake your head at his silent query. “Don’t stop,” you say, breathless.

Reigen nods and moves in time with you for a minute, unable to look away from where you sit above him. His hand speeds up as yours does and within minutes, Reigen is falling apart under your touch.

Worried he'll get carried away, you lift up off of his hand and guide his fingers out. At first, he protests with an annoyed grunt, trying to snatch you back down, and you shove him back by his chest, grinning.

Reigen looks confused until you shift backward to hover over his cock and he catches on quickly.

“Ready?” You ask, making sure he's okay.

Reigen nods quickly and takes hold of your waist. “Fuck, yes, please.”

You can't help but tease him a little, rubbing the head of his erection over your cunt for a moment and watching how easily he works himself up with unrestrained glee.

He goes to say something smart and you seize the chance to catch him off guard. You ease your weight down onto him until finally, you're completely filled by him. It feels so good you cry out and pitch forward, bracing your hands on his chest.

Reigen chokes out a moan, grip on your waist tightening, and he screws his eyes shut. He tenses for a moment, trying to calm himself before he can manage to go on. As much as you'd like to let loose, you force yourself to be patient. If he's never done this before then you can't ride him too hard to begin with. He'll come in five seconds flat and you're desperate to feel him for as long as possible.

“Relax,” you coo, covering his hands with your own. “Look at me.”

Reigen manages to open his eyes and you smile, reassuring. “Take a deep breath, don't panic.” You say, running your thumbs over his hands. “You're doing so well.”

Reigen blushes and manages a sheepish smile, breathing in and out slowly.

After a long minute, Reigen nods for you to go on, and you lift yourself up and down slowly, thighs straining as you move. He watches you in disbelief for a second, like he's committing the sight of you to memory, and a big grin crawls onto his face. “Fuck,” he gasps. “You're so fucking hot.”

The compliment is unexpected and you feel your face warm up. Having his fingers in you feels like nothing in comparison to the way he's looking at you right now, hungry for more and leering at the sight of you on his cock.

You can't stop yourself from smiling and you roll your hips forward, slow to begin with. Each move has you both moaning and sighing, encouraging each other to give more and more until you're not sure who's fucking who anymore.

Reigen's eyes roll back when you speed up, eyes fluttering to stay open. His fingers are digging into your skin and the thrill of being bruised by him runs straight to your pussy.

The room fills with only tiny moans and sounds of fucking; No smart come backs, no more faking, just pure pleasure and excitement.

With a good pace set, you run your fingers over your clit, sighing happily as you circle your touch. It feels so good that you can't even focus on keeping rhythm, your hips stuttering a little.

Reigen seizes the moment to take charge of the moment instead of letting you control the movements, and he fucks up into you. His confidence is unexpected so you barely have time to process what happens, falling forward and leaning on his chest for support. His gaze moves from your face to where your tits bounce, and back up again. He meets your eyes and the sight of one another is enough to make both of you laugh.

He sits up a bit and presses your foreheads together, kissing you over and over, messy and uncoordinated as he gets closer. You both make soft little sounds, panting into each others space like you're desperate for air, and as your fingers work furiously over your clit, you begin to feel a coil build in your stomach; you're so close you feel like you might explode, and you cry out when Reigen snaps his hips particularly hard.

It's enough to force you over the edge and you tighten around him, body shuddering as your climax hits you. You moan his name loudly as the waves wash over you and the sensation is obviously too much for Reigen, because he buries his face in your neck and makes the most obscene noise you've ever heard.

It's somewhere between a sob and a moan, but his voice breaks halfway through and he bites down hard on your neck to stifle himself.

You can feel him cum inside you, cock twitching, and you collapse forward onto him the second he's done. Both of you go limp, lying pressed up against each other as you try to catch your breath again. Neither of you move for a while and it isn’t until you feel your thighs begin to cramp that you decide you’re going to have to get off. You lift up off of him carefully and you both groan at the loss as he slips out from you, cum trailing after his soft cock, and you flop beside him on the bed.

Reigen looks thoroughly fucked. His hair is astray and his mouth is red, lips bitten and slightly swollen from all the attention you’ve given them throughout tonight. You know you probably don’t look much better, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to care.

You shuffle up into his side and Reigen tucks an arm under you, pulling you in close. Your eyes are growing heavy against your will and Reigen drags your leg up over his hips to make you more comfortable.

He draws circles on your skin with his thumb, breathing slowing to a normal pace. The silence is comfortable and calming, and you’re almost drifting off by the time you manage to speak again.

“You okay?" you whisper, peering up at him.

Reigen hums, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, sounding entertained. “Very.”

You laugh quietly to yourself at his smug face and snuggle closer to his side. He squeezes your upper arm gently and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Are you?” He asks.

“Definitely,” you sigh happily and close your eyes. “I think we went above and beyond to convince that place tonight, don’t you?”

Reigen smiles into your hair. “Eh, maybe we should go out a few more times. Just to make sure.”

You grin into the crook of his neck. “Sure, if you’re paying.”

Reigen chuckles and gives your ass a gentle slap. “Only if you show me how much you really like swallowing.”

“Deal.”

[annerbhp]

If you would but indulge this fandom elder for a few moments, I'd like to point out a few things that I think can make all of our fannish experiences on this hellsite (affectionate) so much more joyful.

Try not to treat yourself or others as "content-providers."

This happens when you allow yourself to be influenced by real or imagined expectations and demands of others. "But I know people want..." "But people would expect me to..." "But they might not like it if I..." "It's been too long since I've written/posted anything..." "What if people get upset if I..." These are the joy killers. The only questions you should ask yourself when posting stuff to tumblr (or not) is "does this bring me joy right now?" and "would this cause harm?" That's it. You can also tag liberally so people can block stuff if they want. That's also a nice thoughtful thing to do. But try not to let the nebulous concept of "people"--your followers, your readers, the internet at large, or whatever--become a bogeyman in your own head. Most of us already have enough internal critics trying to trip us up at any given moment. Try not to invent more.

Treating others as "content-providers" happens if you send asks or comments to someone on this site demanding more content of a specific type, or insinuating that you are entitled to something from that person. You are communicating to that person that they only have value as a content-provider, and only when providing whatever it is you want. This is dehumanizing and ignores the thousands of reasons that person might choose to be here. Tumblr is not a subscription service. No one is paying for anything here. Most people here are just doing stuff that makes them joyful and we are lucky enough that sometimes they share it with us too!

2. Fandom is not a marriage.

The concept of "being in a fandom" is actually incredibly nebulous, as it should be! There is nothing you need to do or declare to be "in a fandom." There is no minimum threshold of love, or time, or interaction, or "production." It's just a feeling. A place. A space that brings joy. (And sometimes, heartbreak, but that's another topic all together.)

Fandom is also not a marriage. You can't cheat on a fandom. You do not have to have formal divorce proceedings and let go of one fandom before messing around with another one. There's no such thing as fandom infidelity. Neither is fandom a job. You don't have to give two weeks' notice. You don't have to post public intent on the town hall. You're not banned once you step out, never to return. You can "take a break" without any moral implications or risk of becoming the focus of a pop culture debate about whether or not you were justified to mess around with another fandom during that time. You can leave a fandom and never go back, all without having to consciously decide to do so. You can fall out of love with a fandom and then fall back in love with it later. It's not a marriage/job! There are no rules!

3. Take ownership and curate your own experience.

If there is a thing, or a blog, or a person who once brought you joy, but on balance no longer does, or makes you more disappointed or annoyed or upset than not, you do not have to keep interacting with them/it. Following someone on tumblr is also not a marriage. You can follow/unfollow as you like, no harm, no foul. It's just curating your personal joy, and I hope we will always wish each other the best with that. If you are scared of "missing out on something," then you will either need to block tags enough to make it enjoyable, or decide unfollowing is worth the risk if it makes you too unhappy to keep following!

The ultimate thing is, it's up to you to curate your fannish experience. It is not up to the person you are following to change to fit your expectations or hopes. (See point #1.) You can feel ways about this, of course! But those are your feelings, which are yours to handle. Do not put them on the other person. Do not send them asks demanding things or lashing out. It won't make you feel better and it definitely won't get you what you are looking for, unless your actual aim is to kill the joy of another person so you are not upset alone. In that case I'm not sure what to tell you other than you might want to spend some time meditating on that one and think about if that's really the kind of person you want to be. Or if this kind of space is actually good for you.

That's it for now. Thank you for indulging me. Don't be a dick on the internet, friends. Take no shit and do no harm. Take care of yourselves! 💕

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟺 ⟡ 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; neither you nor james smoke, but remus does . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.5k

⟢ warnings/tags: smoking, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, anxious!reader, ooc!remus (imo)

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

"Join me for a smoke break?" James asks, sliding into the space next to you as you punch in an order.

You glance at him through the corner of your eye as his hand reaches out and closes over the edge of the POS terminal, effectively encasing you between him and the wall on your right.

"I don't smoke," you answer as you substitute kale for arugula.

"Neither do I," James smirks mischievously, "but Nate doesn't need to know that."

Your finger pauses over the button for the truffle gnocchi as you turn your head to look at him.

"What?" you ask, your question punctuated by a soft, amused chuckle.

James' tone turns comically serious, "Why should people who smoke be the only ones who get intermittent breaks throughout the workday? It's preposterous, if you ask me."

You bring your hand to your mouth to stifle your growing laughter as you finish ringing in your order.

"What? I'm serious! If smokers can have smoke breaks we should be entitled to- to fresh air breaks," James invents, "It's only fair."

You turn your body to face James fully, resting your hip against the wood of the server station.

"C'mon, take five with me?" James directs a beckoning nod toward the back door.

You shift your gaze from James to survey the dining room, mentally tallying your tables. Once you find that all food have been served and all patrons have been checked on, you conclude that you can spare five minutes for James.

"Alright, I do have a few minutes to myself," you agree.

James beams at you, sidestepping to make some room, "Ladies first."

You shake your head jovially as you pass him, leading the way through the back hall. As you pass the staff room, James jogs ahead of you and lays a flat palm against the back door. He pushes it open, and the soft light of the setting sun hits you as you walk through.

"What a gentleman," you muse playfully, your eyes remaining on him as you pass.

James’ ever present smile grows.

“What can I say?”

When James lets the door close behind you both, you see that you’re not the only ones who needed a little break.

Remus, the head chef, stands with his back pressed to the wall with a lit cigarette hanging lazily between his lips.

“Remus!” James cheers, the sudden increase in his volume making you jump.

The boys’ hands clasp and they tug each other into a side hug.

You stand idly by as they exchange pleasantries, your hands finding themselves stuffed into the pockets of your apron.

In your opinion, Remus is somewhat intimidating. Your initial impression of him was formed by seeing him shout about a mistake on a ticket. You’ve since come to find out he does not shout as often as you feared he would, but a part of you is still on edge around him, as if one wrong move will put you on the receiving end of an outburst.

So needless to say, you’re slightly surprised at how warmly he interacts with James outside of the kitchen.

You’ve never seen Remus away from the line before. He seems a lot more relaxed out here, although, that might have to do with the dwindling cigarette between his lips.

“Your girl smoke?” Remus asks, suddenly putting the attention on you, “Or is James being a bad influence? Getting you to slack off, is he, sweetheart?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. You had thought your coworkers would stop referring to you as “James’ girl” once you had concluded your training with him. The fact that it's still said occasionally is something you don’t know how to feel about. Perhaps slightly embarrassed, and perhaps slightly warm inside.

“I’m not a bad influence,” James interjects, defending himself, “We’re simply taking a fresh air break.”

Now that James has coined that phrase, you can expect to hear it frequently pass his lips for weeks to come.

“A fresh air break?” Remus barks a laugh, “Here’s some fresh air for ya.”

Remus puffs a cloud of smoke in James’ direction.

James holds his arms out to the side, welcoming the smoke, even fanning it towards himself, “Nice try, mate. The more smokey I smell the less suspicious dear Natey will be. Keep it coming.”

You laugh at the exchange and Remus meets your eye, slightly smiling at your amusement. James follows Remus' gaze, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Want some?" James offers.

You take a step back, "I think I'll take my chances without it."

Remus shakes his head slightly as he drops his cigarette to the ground and puts it out with his shoe. "I better get back on the line," he says, reaching for the door.

"See ya, mate," James says.

At the same time, you emit a timid, "Bye."

"Enjoy your fresh air," Remus says through another spell of laughter as he disappears into the restaurant.

James meets your eye as the door clicks shut, and he notices the slight look of surprise painted on your face.

"What's that look?" James asks, stepping closer.

You shake your head, "Nothing, I- well, I didn't expect Remus to be so..." you trail off, but James seems to know what you mean.

"Yeah, well, he's secretly a big softie. You should see him when he's away from this place," James pats restaurant's exterior wall warmly.

You tilt your head slightly, "You've seen him outside of work?"

"Oh, yeah. Him and Sirius," James relaxes against the wall, "Some of the others too, but it's been a while since we've done a big thing. Not since before you started here."

James seems to want to make sure you know that you haven't been left out of anything, and you smile at his thoughtfulness.

"That's nice," you say simply, settling against the wall next to James.

He smiles down at you, "Do you think you'd come to something like that? If a bunch of us went out after work or something?"

James feels a little giddy at the thought of seeing you outside of work, but he doesn't show it, or really acknowledge the feeling at all.

You look a bit taken off guard at the question, your eyes widening a fraction, "Oh! I- yeah. Yeah, I'm sure that would be fun."

James gravitates a little closer to you, his shoulder nearly touching yours, "Yeah?"

He flashes his pearly white teeth at you, and you have to fight the urge to shrink away from him.

In the weeks you've worked here, you've grown quite comfortable around James. It's easy with him, his presence always so warm and inviting. Your heart doesn't race with anxiety when you talk to him like it still does with some of your other coworkers.

Not always, anyway.

Sometimes, when James gets close or beams at you with that perfect smile of his— both of which he's doing now— your heart rate picks up and something you haven't acknowledged yet flutters in the pit of your stomach.

You swallow hard. "Yeah," you repeat, your voice coming out a bit hoarse as you take in how his hair falls across his face and the way the golden light from the setting sun highlights his skin.

As much as you want to stay in this moment, you fear that any longer and you might melt, so you push yourself off the wall and step away.

"We've probably had plenty of fresh air," you say, "and we don't want to keep out tables waiting too long."

"Sure, of course," James nods, "but, um..."

James trails off, scratching the back of his neck like he does when he's feeling sheepish.

"But what?" you wonder, your tone soft.

"Find me if you ever need some more fresh air, yeah?"

You press your lips together to hide how wide you're compelled to smile, "Sure thing, James."

The both of you make your way back into the building, only to stop in your tracks as Nate crosses in front of you, exiting his office.

He furrows his bushy brows at the sight of you two. "Smoke break?" he asks.

You and James both nod, James a bit more inconspicuous than you.

Nate squints when his eyes fall on you, "You smoke, kid?"

"Totally," you respond, eyes darting to James.

"Oh, yeah she smokes. We did so much smoking out there. Tons," James says with a grin, his tone so exaggeratedly convincing it’s almost comical.

You stifle a laugh as James continues.

"Had to take the edge of, you know. Hectic day. You want to hear about it? I had this table–"

"Alright, alright," Nate cuts James off, waving his hands exasperatedly, "I get it, just get back to work."

"You got it, boss," James calls after him as Nate continues down the hall.

Once Nate is out of earshot, you catch James’ eye, and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter.

[fatesundress]

⭑ settle soft and as pure as snow. tom riddle x reader

summary. he’s tender the way snow is. devout as a prayer that it will clear come spring.

tags. gn reader, ooc tom to 99% of the world but man do i love the 1% to whom it isn't, short little blurb, fear of death / discussions of mortality, fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint but mostly comfort, just. lovers! being lovers! kind of a sequel to your kitchen table in that it's as much an analysis of tom's fears and desires as it is an x reader, i needed this so i wrote it idk what to tell you okay

note. in my long absence i hit 1k followers (!!!???) and while i've struggled to write anything substantial, i really enjoyed this and wanted to share something to somewhat express my gratitude :') have some healed tom (inspired by hozier) and as always, my requests are open in case something sparks inspiration. in the meantime, thanks for everything!!

word count. 791

He’s so suited to this. Beautifully, frustratingly so — born in its longest nights and shaded in its sundry tones; its stellular blues and soft, powdery whites — Tom Riddle is December made mortal. (An offensive turn of phrase, you’re sure, but he’s suited to mortality too.) You think he used to charm his cheeks not to flush but relented the effort at some point, some years ago with you, because the cold splashes them pink to his ears now, snow dotting his tousled hair. He has the integrity still to deny your caps and earmuffs with a signature scowl, but — one day.

It’s a walk through the night for no particular reason, with no particular direction. There’s moorland past the trail that winds around your shared abode, tall and dense and magical. It satiates something in him. The unknown. The need for it.

Sometimes he gets restless and doesn’t tell you, only stares furtively from the northernmost window, fingers conjuring spirals of ice on the sill absentmindedly. You take his hand and kiss the cool digits one by one. To remind him of intention.

It’s the decay, you presume. A little voice always tugs him that way, but it gets louder this time of year. With everything shedded, rotted, buried and slumbering, Tom endures watching the cycle he hates most echo into spring. Rebirth, yes, but not how he pictures it. What he knows in the steepest dusks is that one winter will come where he will not wake up again with the flowers, where you might vow to tend whatever garden someday blooms over his grave, a name etched into the stone that none but you will remember. Many winters after that, when you follow him into death and the house is mildewed and lichen clusters his favourite window, the grave will wear until even that is gone to time.

It terrifies him.

So you walk. Intention. Your hand is in his.

The magic of a simple charm warms you somewhat, but you enjoy the subtle sting of cold. You can feel it because you’re alive. It’s the same life that strung you to him in a way that can’t be severed, and now you make new trails in pathless woods and wonder at constellations, spiles broaching syrup into buckets from the trees. You collect them for potions. You invent new ones together, and tease him over a coughing fit in cauldron smoke that immortality is more than living forever.

He kisses you quiet, but he’ll listen later. There’s so much time.

You wonder if it suits you, too — winter — by the way he tends to you when it comes. Doting. You would never have imagined considering him having such a virtue when you met him, but he’s… tender, the way snow is.  Devout as a prayer that it will clear come spring. Stinging, soft, ephemeral. You weather him. But how he keeps you warm when the night drags on, and talk of constellations turns to talk of grief, he shelters you.

When your back is bare and you’re laid away from him, he traces the skin like he’s never seen it before. It’s a wonder, you think, to learn the mechanisms of touch like a foreign language. Perhaps it would feel the same for the first thousand times. How many winters did he trace the cool tile of his bedroom wall just like this, with skinny fingers scraping at the mortar on another empty birthday? There are questions even now you think to ask but don’t. He offers the answers mostly as he’s reminded of them: that a clearing in the moors evokes a memory of a bad field trip, a mantelpiece of tchotchkes echo a stolen box in a burning wardrobe, that most things, at times, feel fleetingly disparate, ready to be returned to their right place. Tea will go without sugar again as he will go without you.

Nonsense. This is yours, you tell him, the word sewn between you.

His pink cheeks are all the colour you see in the dark. The tree sap is sweet and light. You write a letter to a potioneer in New Guinea to draft, and turn left instead of right the next night, a new forest discovered within the first. Your New Year’s Eve is a swell of light in birthday candles, laughing into his cheek at some bad joke until the sound is smothered by a kiss he breaks too soon by laughing too. It’s a sound you can’t invent or imagine, words failing you even when you find them for everything else he is. 

Spring comes one unsuspecting morning, twice and twenty times, greys strewn in the black of his hair. You smile with crow’s feet into winter again.

taglist. @lyis @indimoss @poddzi @esolean @d1anna @maripositanoctruna @mentally-in-northern-italy @ronniemaximoff1234 @moobell55 @jaerang @ramayantika @saltwaterbythesea @acube07 @togenabi @adazito @kitcat334 @blaurghhh @shutupfinn @jaymeeshayden @lilu842 @leaosee @garfunkelworld @definitely-not-captain-america @multiplefandomstan @mangoesareorange

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic june 20 - response - 2623 words - nsfw content!

about love against all odds feat. injury related prematurely retired football player james that settled and raised a son and international football star regulus

for regulus pencil mustache truther @veryinnovative, my football (players) loving wife @rottin6 and my number 1 enabler @itmeanssungod

James is kneeling behind Harry on a picnic blanket with Lily when their last guests arrive. “There they are!” Sirius’ voice carries easily over the meadow and just as expected a few seconds later there’s a big, black scrub of a panting dog in front of them, curious to see what Harry and James are up to, which is flying a kite. 

“Oh my God– Hi!” Lily says, getting up. Which is a bit enthusiastic for the fact that they’ve seen Sirius and Remus only last weekend and should have been James’ first clue. Though, admittedly, he was a bit busy angling the kite and also angling Harry’s face away from Padfoot’s butt to avoid suffocation.

“Moony couldn’t make it today unfortunately,” Sirius says, closer now, “but I’ve brought substitution.”

James isn’t proud of the way his entire upper body whips around, Harry included, who lets out a small yelp at the sudden motion. “Sorry, mate. Sorry. I’m—”

Lily is already there to take over, nudging James to get up who’s working very hard on closing his jaw and not staring like an idiot.

Because standing there besides his brother is Regulus. Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, paired with a simple back t-shirt and green Adidas trainers. He does not look like he belongs onto a colourful picnic blanket in a park in London yet there he is.

He’s sporting a pencil stach now. Regulus had been convinced Sirius had already used up all the genetic material for pronounced body hair on the first way around, leaving behind very little for his younger brother. James, being on the hairier side as well, used to tease him about it endlessly back when they were in school. But it seemed to develop now in his late twenties. James has only seen it on the TV in a few matches and on one or two instagram posts but the real deal is even worse. Regulus looks criminally hot with it. The whole picture of lithe muscle, strong quads and stronger calves, curly hair, the occasional tattoo. He’s every young heterosexual woman’s wet european football boyfriend dream and James’ gut is swooping.

“Reg.”

“Hi, James,” Regulus responds, much more articulated, sporting a hint of a smirk. 

Oh, he— “Bastard,” James mutters, low enough so Harry behind him won’t hear and then he’s grinning and yanking Regulus into a firm hug.

They all have a late lunch together at a nearby restaurant and Regulus is patiently letting Harry talk his ears off about Ninjago and preschool and Ron and Moine. Lily is taking him over the weekend and James bids his goodbye with a loud smooch to his son’s cheek. 

And just as James is about to invent a crazy, elaborate story about how he has something back at his house he’d meant to show Regulus for ages without making it interesting enough for Sirius to tag along, this one simply taps two fingers against his eyebrow in a mock salute before making his way in the other direction, Padfoot trotting along dutifully. “Why do you think I hid him from you all Thursday? Have fun, kids!”

Regulus groans pathetically and turns to hide his face into James’ shoulder.

“I told you we can’t keep it a secret from him forever. He probably knew all along,” James chuckles and takes Regulus’ duffel, “C’mon, love.”

It starts in the elevator up, is a wonder they make it past the hallway and into the bedroom. It’s very much overdue and heated and desperate all the way through. 

James might or might not have pinned Regulus one too many times into the mattress and offhandedly commented something along the line’s of Regulus being his and cuffing him to the bed if he needs to. And it’d worked because Regulus had moaned so prettily, eyelids fluttering and hips bucking, cock twitching and all James could think about then was where’s the fucking lube.

Saying that, he doesn’t quite expect Regulus to bring it up after the fact.

James is absolutely blissed out, breathing only just levelling out as he traces the shape of Regulus’ kiss bitten lips.

“You know I can’t stay, Jamie.”

He shrugs easily, kneading Regulus’ muscled thigh where it’s slung over his hip, “We’ll come with you then.”

“To Portugal?” Regulus’ eyebrows rise as he props himself on his elbow, his tone flat. “And then to France in a couple of months when I switch clubs? I don’t think that’s such a good idea given Harry is five.”

“Au contraire—”

Regulus rolls his eyes and slaps him on the naked shoulder. “Moving every few years? And during the nationals not to mention,” he tucks an errant strand of hair back from James’ forehead, “Multiple continents, who knows which timezone. That’s no life for a child, James. And I haven’t even brought up Lily yet. She’s just as much part of his life as you are and it works out wonderfully for the time being with you two living so close. It’s what Harry deserves.”

And deep down James knows Regulus is right. And if he’s completely honest with himself, it isn’t the life he truly wants for himself either. That’s why he’s here and Regulus is out there. James knows it isn’t what’s best for Harry nor for himself and yet. And yet no matter how many times they have this conversation it seems endlessly irrelevant when Regulus is looking down at him this way. The shine of the sunset through the window is catching in his pillow mussed curls, in the dark lashes framing his blue silver eyes and rivalling the flush of his skin with its own red hue and James thinks Regulus looks like home. Like anything he could still want in life besides what precious he already has.

James heaves a heavy sigh and hungrily swerves his eyes over every single of Regulus’ features, committing them to memory. Because that’s all that’s gonna stay when Regulus inevitably leaves again. But that’s not what James wants to think about right now though.

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” James replies happily and pulls Regulus in by the back of his nape before his indignant expression can even fully form. Every single one of Regulus’ helpless sounds get swallowed eagerly and filed away for later. For a moment James is tempted to ask Regulus if he can get out his phone and record but he thinks better of it.

They have sex for hours. 

James sucks all coherency out of Regulus through his cock and then fucks him so stupid, legs spread and pushed into the mattress, spit pooling out of the corner of his mouth, tears wetting his cheeks, cum smearing across his stomach, that he gets him to promise to stay. It’s futile and just a heat of the moment thing but it drives James so wild he almost blacks out when he eventually spills deep inside of him. There’s black dots and stars dancing in his vision when he watches it leak back out of Regulus’ puffy hole and a strange sense of satisfaction and dread mixing in his belly. 

After a quick entangled and still very much nude power nap James arranges them a platter of fruit and crackers and cheeses. They shower and James changes the sheets only for Regulus to prop himself up on his side and watch intently as he edges James until he’s the one whining and crying. He’s using ridiculous amounts of lube, his hand is so warm and slick and squeezing just right and his thumb is swiping teasingly along the slit exactly how it makes James go insane and then he’s taking his hand away and James curses, already feeling another tear running down his cheek. His thighs are trembling, his knuckles turning white where he’s clinging to the headboard. Regulus is staring at him out of lidded, expectant eyes and James’ dick is aching and it’s all so sick and hot James has to bite his tongue hard not to tell Regulus he loves him right then and there. 

He’s shown mercy, at last. Regulus makes him cum down his throat and over his face, there’s milky white running down the side of Regulus nose and James pulls him in with shaky arms for a downright nasty kiss.

They sleep until 2pm the next day and have a lovely, slow day bickering in the grocery store isles, preparing dinner together and not at all watching the movie that’s on the TV while they make out and frot on the couch like teenagers. Like back when they were teenagers. 

Sunday morning Lily brings Harry before she’s heading out to brunch with her FLINTA boxing club and James’ heart riots in his chest when he watches how easily and adorably Regulus and Harry interact. 

They meet up with Sirius and then drive Regulus to the airport together.

Goodbye is a bumpy thing. Harry is pure popcorn caramel sweetness between Regulus’ knees when he crouches down to hug him and James’ embrace, he knows, is much longer than socially acceptable. He vaguely notices Sirius distracting Harry, babbling to him about the stuffed toy assortment from a nearby shop as Regulus and James hold onto each other like they’re in a long distance relationship and not…well, whatever it is they can afford to be with Regulus visiting the country about three to five times a year.

There’s a fist clenched in the soft material of his t-shirt and James buries his nose in the curls of Regulus’ temple and inhales deeply. A spot he’s going to see sweat soaked on a flat screen and not getting to smell or touch or kiss for the unforeseeable future. At least that’s what he thinks for now.

Eventually they part and after a strong, swaying hug from Sirius and a few words about making him proud out on the field and seeing that physiotherapist about his shoulder and a safe flight Regulus is gradually disappearing into the distance with the grating velocity of your standard airport escalator. James doesn’t know who thought it was a good idea to be able to watch a loved one slip through your fingers at this agonising tempo but he’d like to have a word with them. His heart clenches in his chest, his lip already feels raw from worrying it with his teeth and James thinks, the warm weight of his son pressed to his chest, that, even though it might not seem that way, Harry is probably more holding him right now than the other way around.

And life’s a funny thing sometimes. 

Because, like every time when Regulus bids his goodbye, leaving behind not exactly shards but rather yet another pin in James’ heart, wrapped around by a red string Regulus indisputably, invariably takes along across the ocean every time, it bleeds and burns and burns so badly that they get ice cream. Sirius slaps him between the shoulder blades, pays for his chocolate mint and hazelnut, tells him he’s such a dad for his choice and, together with Harry, tries distracting him as best as he can manage. 

And so begins a week of moping and then one and a half of delusion and overcompensation, full of fun trips and adventures, and then another few of avoidance, full of social media free zones and grinding through work and scheduling all kinds of appointments to fill their freetime until—

Until one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

A bright, blinking LED sign in the form of an incoming call on his phone screen that’s making James’ heart stutter in his chest. He’s just sat back down in front of his computer in his home study after lunch break and started wiggling an USB stick into a port when the vibrations had made his head shoot up.

It’s just the three letters of Reg and a silly photo of when he was seventeen, pulling a face at James taking a picture of him on his digital camera.

Regulus never calls.

James isn’t sure he’s breathing.

It’s barely been about two months, not close to visiting time again, and Regulus usually never calls so James sits there absolutely dumbstruck and convinced the universe is pulling a sick joke on him.

The call ends abruptly and James blinks harshly. He fumbles for his phone and clicks into his call history. Incoming call from Reg in red font, signalising it’s been missed, followed by the exact time of the day it is at the moment. 

James presses on the little phone icon.

It only rings once before there’s a voice on the other side of the line.

“James?” Regulus sounds slightly breathless. James hasn’t heard his voice over the line in about seven years.

“Yeah?” James says back. His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Then James realises he should probably say something more. “Err, Hi. I’m—” he sighs, clicks his tongue, clears his throat, tries again. “Did you just call me?” “Hi,” Regulus says back, still breathless and it sort of sounds like he’s smiling. James blinks again. “Yeah, yeah. I did call.”

“Oh,” James makes. His heart does a little spin in his chest. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m coming to England,” Regulus declares, giggling. James’ heart tries to leap out of his chest at the sound.

“Cool, cool. You got another away game?” He winces, closes his eyes, “Sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your matches lately.”

“No, James, I’m– wait. Okay, rude, first of all—”

James snorts and rolls his eyes, now grinning against the phone as well. “Sue a guy for being heartbroken.”

“Yeah, I just might,” Regulus quips. “But…what I was initially going to say is, No, James, I’m not having an away game in England.”

“No?” James asks, confused. Nationals are still a while away so that can’t be it.

“No. I’m having a home game in England,” and James wonders how something so soft spoken can pack such an ear-ringing gutpunch.

“I’m— Regulus, what,” James stands up, his chair loudly scraping against the hardwood floor. “Are you saying…”

A single chuckle works its way out of Regulus and over the line to James, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

James’ heart is sprinting away from him. He’s sweating. His breath is coming faster and he feels like he should run a lap around the property. Or six. “Regs, love, please spell it out for me because I’m not entirely sure I just hallucinated what you—”

“Arsenal made me an offer,” Regulus says and James hears angels singing in the background, “A better one.”

“Oh, fucking Christ,” James pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead, “Reg, I swear to God if you’re joking right now I’m personally flying over and—”

An exasperated noise, grin evident in his voice nonetheless, “I’m being honest, James, God’s sake. You can fucking look it up online, they probably already posted about it.”

A breath punches out of James, he sinks back down into his desk chair. There’s a polaroid of him and Regulus from Halloween a few years back, alien and a scientist. It was a fucking mess scrubbing all that green paint off again and it didn’t help that Regulus abandoned his sponge in favor of grabbing at James’ hardness through his briefs. It had been the first night they kissed since they were teenagers. 

With a sudden clarity, all the tension floods out of James’ body with a slightly delirious laugh and he leans his cheek into the warmed glass of his phone screen, “You’re coming home.”

Regulus sounds equally giddy, equally drunk on love and fate. “Yeah, Jamie, I’m coming home.”

[anonymousangstmonster]

Idea #39

The Fentons were a family of merciless mer hunters.

But when Jack Fenton found a barely-a-year-old, white haired, black scaled, green eyed guppy washed up on their private beach, he couldn’t just leave the little guy to probably get eaten alive by seagulls. He’d always had a soft spot for kids.

He somehow convinced Maddie to let him keep it, as long as he was responsible for it. Jack had to feed it, clean it and it’s tank, train it, make sure it didn’t try to eat people, entertain it, the normal things you have to do to take care of a pet. Sure Maddie was the one that made sure it was fed most of the time since Jack forgot, but he did all the other things! He even gave him a name, Danny.

They actually got to learn a lot about merfolk biology taking care of him.

Over time the pair of scientists grew more and more attached to the little baby mer in their lab. He was practically a son to them. He was so sweet and cute, who wouldn’t love him instantly!

They taught him how to talk(he had such an adorable voice!), they taught him about the outside world(his eyes always sparkled with curiosity and wonder when listening to their stories).

When an old mer hunting friend came over to visit, he told them to be careful, that the creature could be using its siren powers to make them love it. They assured him that Danny’s powers(if he had any) were disabled by the small and unobtrusive cuff around his wrist.

They arranged for a little boy Danny’s age to come for a playdate, since he always seemed so lonely by himself in his artificial habitat. That young boy was named Tucker Foley, and the two hit it off instantly. Playing in the shallow area of Danny’s ‘exhibit’ with beach balls and plastic boats.

More time passed and Danny grew, his aquarium growing along with him.

Sometimes other hunter and scientist friends of the Fentons would come see the lab, and they would see a teenage merman in a comfortable environment and not on an examination table.

The parents wanted to see their boy free and happy, so they released him into the ocean. It wasn’t until later that they realized they never prepared him for the outside world, they never taught him how to hunt for himself, to avoid fishing nets, he might get seriously hurt or even die out there because they were ‘so eager to get rid of him’.

One of their worst fears were confirmed when they found him washed up on their beach bleeding from his tail, abdomen, and arm, unconscious.

Mer au combined with “Danny has always been lab rat” au, and wholesome up until the plot.

“I also just want Jack to invent a ghost(mer) treat and make Danny do tricks for it.” -that applies to this as well. Also I had the idea for that when eating a soft peppermint for the first time in forever.

ALSO GUYS THIS AU IS SHARED WITH @doiyi-yt! GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF UNDER THE #fish boy au TAG!

[lexosaurus]

Gym 101

In which Valerie forces Danny to go workout with her

[ao3]

Characters: Danny & Valerie Warnings: None Wc: 2,230

****

"You're not engaging your core, Danny. What do I keep telling you?" Valerie sighed and put down her weight. "You're going to fuck up your knees if you don't slow down and do this right."

"And I keep telling you I don't even know what that means!" Danny snapped, not for the first time this week and probably not the last.

When he told Valerie that he, Danny Fenton, was also Danny Phantom, Danny had been expecting Valerie to be so mad at him that she never wanted to speak to him again.

And, well, she had been that mad at him. Very mad, in fact. So pissed, that for a minute, Danny was worried she was going to blast him off her roof.

He hadn't stuck around long after that.

And while he was beginning to make himself comfortable in the campground called, "Valerie's Cold Shoulder," he barely had two days to settle in before she had seemingly decided that enough was enough. 

Just before homeroom began, she strode to him in the hall, pulled him to the side—literally, she yanked him around the corner by his shirt sleeve—and demanded they start hitting the gym together.

"Because," Valerie had explained at his whining, and not patiently either, "I get that you have ghost powers, but your human half is such a twig. Seriously, Danny, do you know how much you're holding yourself back right now? If you actually tried strength training, I bet you'd level up pretty hardcore in ghost fights. Who knows? You might be able to train your reflexes to dodge one of Skulker's blasts from time to time."

And well, that bruise to both Danny's ghostly ego and his human teenage boy ego had been all he needed to agree to start working out with none other than his former rival turned ally, Valerie Gray.

"Stand up straight," Valerie ordered, pulling him back to his present world of pain.

He had no idea how Jazz and his mom liked doing this stuff. At the current moment, he was pretty sure the person who invented the concept of lifting weights was a giant masochist because there was simply no way in hell anyone throughout history would have ever said, "You know what sounds like the most fun thing ever? Let's take heavy objects, lift them, do a little movement, and then put them back down in the same spot we lifted them from!"

But apparently, he was the weirdo for not understanding why there was a dedicated fanbase of people who put a metal bar on their back, put some weights on the sides of the bar, squatted into a crouch, and then stood back up.

And repeated the process.

Again.

And again.

And again. Ten times, resting, and then ten more times.

Danny weakly stood, gripping the bar behind his shoulders like it was the only thing tethering his will to live to this plane of existence, and glared at Valerie through sweaty bangs. "Okay, standing. What next?"

"We godda fix your core."

"Be my guest," Danny said. He wasn't even sure if Valerie could fix something he'd never had to begin with, but if she truly wanted to, then...whatever. He'd lost by coming here, anyway.

Valerie scrutinized him as if he was some sort of science project that wasn't quite working out how she'd hoped. Which, thinking about it for a moment, he figured that was probably exactly what he was to Valerie. 

Then, without warning, she put her hand on his stomach.

Now, Phantom was largely considered a very suave and cool hero. Well, maybe Sam and Tucker would disagree, and sure there was a whole TikTok tag dedicated to videos of him falling into random objects, but still. There were enough random people around who would agree that Phantom was at least somewhat socially sufficient.

But Fenton on the other hand was very much not. He was an awkward, goofy teen. He wasn't popular, and he didn't exactly have a lot of girls fawning over him at every turn.

Which was why Valerie, his former girlfriend who maybe he still had some deeply buried feelings for, touching him so casually was setting off all sorts of alarm bells in his brain.

"...got it?" Valerie was saying.

Certainly, she had said something.

Something that Danny was supposed to be listening to.

Oh, shit. 

"Uh..." Danny tried to re-circuit his brain.

"Here, follow my lead. Okay? Breathe," she said. "Good. Now, tighten your abs."

Danny tried his best to follow.

"No, see, you're sucking in. Tightening your abs doesn't mean sucking in. It's like, okay, think of it this way. Try hardening your abs into a brick wall. Like, squeeze them together. Now—yeah, like that. Now, can you try adding your side and lower back into that brick wall too?"

"Try adding what?"

The corners of Valerie's lip twitched up. "The sides of your stomach? You have abs there too. And there are muscles in your lower back. That's all part of your core too. Remember what I said about your core's job to keep your body stable? Those muscles are all important for that."

"Valerie, I think you're really overestimating how in shape I am. I didn't even know there was more than one ab muscle, much less that there were abs on the sides of my body."

"Well, you have them, ghost boy."

"Doesn't help much if I can't feel them."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Well, just try your best."

"Yes, Ma'am." Danny did his best to follow her lead while also struggling to ignore the fact that her hand was still on his stomach. 

He was so glad Tucker wasn't here to see his face. He could only hope that Valerie had come to the conclusion that the redness he could feel burning from his cheeks was proof that he was way more out of shape than she thought he was. That was still pretty embarrassing, and likely not even all wrong, but he would take it over the truth.

"Okay, now reset your shoulders. Stop hunching so much," she said.

"But the bar feels weird," Danny defended.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get used to it. Stop looking down so much. You want your spine to be straight."

"I know." 

Half of what Valerie had been telling him for the past week was to straighten his spine. He couldn't help it if his back was a visual representation of his many years of late-night gaming. 

"Okay, now squat down." She leaned forward, and her dark eyes were just inches from his own. "No—look at me the whole time. Don't drop your eyes to your feet."

Oh, his face was burning burning now.

He slowly lowered his body, focusing on staying balanced as best as he could. Having a bar on his back was still a new sensation, and Valerie was refusing to let him load any weight onto it. Apparently, everyone started from an empty bar until they got the hang of the motion. Danny wasn't sure if that was something Valerie was just saying to be nice to him, or if that was actually true. 

He did try asking, and she just got offended that he would dare think so low of her that she would lie about something gym-related, and then she told him to stop screwing around and focus on the exercise.

So, it was fifty-fifty at this point.

"Keep going down," Valerie instructed, stepping back and thankfully removing her hand from him in the process.

Seriously, that had been the longest several seconds of his entire life and half-life combined.

"But I thought you weren't supposed to go past ninety degrees or something?" Danny asked from his invisible chair-like position in his squat.

"No, that's a lie. I think they just tell that to people who have butt-wink or bad mobility or something."

"The hell is butt-wink? See, now I just think you're making stuff up."

"I'm not! It's actually something you're doing right now." Valerie pointed at him in the mirror. "See how your pelvis is tucking in and curving your lower back? That's butt-wink." She moved to stand next to him and lowered down in a squat. "See my lower back? It's straight. This is how you want to be."

Danny wasn't aware that working out would just give him more things to be self-conscious about. He tried to straighten his lower back, but it was almost impossible to do so without feeling like he was going to fall on his ass. "Okay, then how do I fix that?"

"Well, I'm not exactly a doctor, so I'm sure it could be caused by a few different things. But the most common one I've heard is that butt wink happens when your core is shit. But it could also just as likely be an ankle and hip flexibility issue too."

Danny rolled his eyes. "As we've established, my core is shit. And I'm not flexible at all. "

"Yeah, I know," Valerie lamented. "I can't believe you've been fighting as Phantom for all these years and you haven't gone to the gym even once. Isn't Sam really into working out or something? Why didn't you ask to be her gym buddy?"

"Because I value my life." Danny paused. "My half-life, whatever. Tucker worked out with her once to prepare for the President's fitness test they did freshmen year, and I didn't stop hearing about it for months. She's ruthless."

"You know what, I believe that."

"Yup," Danny grunted, lowering to do another squat.

Two down, about five million more to go.

People actually enjoyed lifting weights? They came to the gym willingly? As in, of their own volition?

They seriously sweated and lifted heavy objects in a room surrounded by a bunch of equally sweaty, smelly strangers who were lifting other objects? 

And they thought it was fun?

That seemed absurd.

Valerie scrunched her nose at him.

"What?" Danny asked, his voice teetering past the line between speaking normally and whining, but he was far too exhausted to care. "Why are you looking at me like that? What am I doing wrong now?"

"No, it's just—" Valerie tilted her head. "Try widening your stance more. And maybe try pointing your toes out a little bit. That should help with your form. I mean, ideally, your ankle mobility would be better, but given it's pretty shit right now, this might be the best fix."

"God, I'm hopeless. Just give me the word and I'll leave."

"Oh, stop. You're not hopeless. You just need to stretch more. And train more."

Danny shuffled his feet and bent down into another squat. Having a wider stand did make the squat feel easier, but he wasn't about to admit that to her. "No, I am definitely hopeless. It'll be a blow to my ego, but I think I can emotionally recover if I leave the gym right now."

Valerie punched his arm, though it had no real power to it. She'd long since stopped legitimately trying to hurt him. 

Nevertheless, he would have sooner let Skulker capture him than pass up an opportunity to verbally torment Valerie. "Wow, I can't believe my ally is trying to beat me up and murder me in public. Especially while I'm trying to better myself in the gym."

"Oh, shut up." Although she tried to look angry, Danny could see the corners of her lips quirk into a smile. "Alright, your form is looking a lot better. It's still not perfect, but it's way better than when we started."

"Thank god."

"Maybe in a few weeks we can start adding plates."

A few weeks?

He must have let his internal expression show, because she once again snapped with, "It's normal for people to only squat the bar when they first start. It's way more important to get proper form than to lift heavy. You see that guy over there?"

She nodded across the room at a man doing chest presses. He was using weights that Danny could only dream of, pumping them up and down with a confidence that Danny was sure rivaled even Dash.

So the man looked alright to Danny, but apparently, that was the wrong conclusion to come to, if Valerie's critical eye was any judge.

"See how his elbows are basically straight out from his body? And see how he's not extending his arms all the way when he presses? He's rushing through the exercise. It's bad form, and while it may feel cool to lift heavy, bulky weights, if you can't even do the exercise properly, you just end up looking like a fool." She turned back to him. "Remember, you're in a gym. That means you're surrounded by people who have been doing this shit for years. Trust me when I say you're not going to impress anyone by rushing through the exercises to try to look cool."

"Aye-aye, captain."

It wasn't like he was going to impress anyone with the way he was wobbling while attempting to squat the naked bar, anyway.

"Alright, that's enough of a rest, I think. This time, let's actually do eight reps."

"Literal torture."

"Keep the whining up, and I might just call my blaster out."

Danny could see it in her eyes that she wasn't joking.

And so, he began.

****

[read more of my fics here]

[angelofsmalldeath-codeine]

Good Saturday, y’all.

Topic of today’s rant: PEOPLE PRINTING AND SELLING FANFIC & GENERAL FANDOM ETIQUETTE

Profiting from fanfic will ruin it for everyone.

I want all of you who gift us your stories to be safe from lawsuits and beware that your content might be stolen.

Not to be on a soapbox and preaching to the choir but here are.

There are many authors pulling their work off AO3 because people acting on bad faith are printing and binding fics to sell on etsy thus infringing copyright laws. Fanfic has always been a grey area and we are allowed to exist in this grey area because we are not profiting from it. The minute money is exchanged, every party involved is breaking the law.

Why am I complaining about this yet again? Because we might be deprived from enjoying fanfic with the freedom we currently have because the fanfic authors will fear getting sued. If third parties are stealing our work and selling it, publishers and studios won’t care to know who sold it. It is your handle (thus IP address) on the sold fanfic. Because, get this, they are doing downloads straight from ao3 with your usernames.

Manacled is being pulled from ao3 because the author will publish it as a book. People are putting the book at risk by selling printed versions of it on Etsy.

I believe many of us who fall on the 20 years of reading fanfic side rather than on the 20 year olds reading fanfic will remember the Anne Rice days. These are not fully over because her son is carrying on the legacy of suing everyone who writes fanfic of her work. And if I may say, she didn’t invent vampires and should’ve taken many seats. I digress.

I am not sure of the levels of awareness within this community and to what extent it can affect all of us. TikTok is a massive contributor to this problem (as it is to many other problems. Again, I digress) since booktok and the binding folks discovered ao3.

You might think, I only post on tumblr so my content is safe. Well, they are finding their way here too. They cringe because tumblr is for old people but they still make their way here with their bad manners and pillaging behaviour.

I want all of you who gift your stories to be safe, lawsuit free, not lose your content and not be afraid of sharing.

I wish I had a definitive solution to this problem but I can only think of small actions:

report the etsy accounts selling fanfic/fanfic commissions,

report the TikTok accounts selling binding for fanfic work,

go back to the days of putting disclaimers on your notes that you don’t own the characters and you are not profiting from the story.

Tagging some authors* here for visibility so you can cascade to more people. Absolutely no pressure tag.

@theywhowriteandknowthings @tightjeansjavi @diversemediums @goodwithcheese @nerdieforpedro @fhatbhabie @undercoverpena @thelightsandtheroses @ezrasbirdie @notjustjavierpena @javierpena-inatacvest @freshlyrage @5oh5 @wardenparker @endlessthxxghts @creedslove @sp00kymulderr @secretelephanttattoo @gnpwdrnwhiskey @whatsnewalycat @pedrostylez @thetriumphantpanda @toointojoelmiller @dancingtotuyo @agentjackdaniels @ladamedusoif @lotrefcp @wildemaven @musings-of-a-rose @justagalwhowrites @morallyinept @pedropascalsx @criticallyacclaimedstranger @pennyserenade @kteague @astoryisaloveaffair @moralesispunk @linzels-blog @metalnecklace

*I can remove the tag if you are not comfortable with being associated with this post.

[qiu-yan]

canon jiang cheng

making my own post instead of reblogging someone else's with my hater commentary. praise my three atoms of emotional maturity.

salt below the cut. the post is long so i can concentrate all my salt into one location.

i just saw a post complaining about jc stans trying to take over the "canon jiang cheng" tag. personally, i do think us stans should just let the haters have that one, since picking fights is just going to cause more trouble for everyone. but also.

there is exactly one reason why this is happening, and it isn't just that jc stans are annoying.

in all honesty, the jiang cheng frequently discussed in the "canon jiang cheng" tag is as much of a fandom invention as the jiang cheng conjured by the most ardent of jc stannies. i have seen the level of analysis typical of the "canon jiang cheng tag," and - to speak frankly - the frequenters of this tag are every bit as prone to wild invention and free flights of fancy as the rest of the fandom. when posts claiming that jiang cheng sold an unwilling jiang yanli to the jins, or that jiang cheng regularly whips jin ling, or that jiang cheng directly killed wei wuxian, are all tagged with "canon jiang cheng," it is safe for anyone with a brain to say that we have in fact moved quite a distance away from canon.

so when these people casually declare their equally fanonical interpretation of a character to be the one and only "canon," from the perspective of the rest of us, all we see is condescension and an entirely undeserved arrogance.

is it any wonder the jc stans are annoyed?

actually, let's take a closer look at what's going on here. even if the "canon jiang cheng" tag was intended at any point in its conception to actually be used for discussion of jiang cheng's canon traits - this is no longer the case. in practice, the "canon jiang cheng" tag is used for jiang cheng bashing. if i went into the "canon jiang cheng" tag today, do you think i'd find posts about jiang cheng's canon height or canon love of dogs, or even screenshots of the mdzs text wherein jiang cheng is mentioned? no. every post i found would be about how jiang cheng sucks - and with wildly varying levels of fidelity to canon, to boot.

if every post in your tag is about how a character sucks, and adherence to canon in said posts is optional, then what you have is not a canon analysis tag. what you have is a character bashing tag.

and yet. if you ask these people why they're tagging their character-bashing as "canon," all you get is wide-eyed innocence. this isn't character bashing, they insist, this is just analysis of his canon traits. this is even when the post in question contradicts canon directly. and when posts that are canonically accurate but not jiang-cheng-negative appear in the "canon jiang cheng" tag? these users so kindly move to correct this behavior: don't you know, they politely inform the offender, that this tag is for canon behavior only? your post about how jiang cheng might have had a shred of love in his heart at one point in his life is not canon.

they want at once the exclusivity and full-agreement nature of a character-bashing tag, and also the veneer of superiority lent by the label "canon." and by claiming the label of "canon" for themselves only, they aim not just to lend credibility to their own opinions, but also to automatically discredit everyone that disagrees with them. they want sole ownership over "canon" - and to declare every other jiang cheng analysis out there, so long as it isn't sufficiently jiang-cheng-negative, as mere fandom invention.

guys. come on. what is this? you do realize that if you tell someone that they can't tag their analysis with "canon," then you're basically telling them that you think they're wrong, don't you? every time you say "oh this post is about canon jiang cheng," you do realize that what you're actually saying is "my analysis is based in canon, while yours is fandom invention" - that what you're actually saying is "i'm right and you're wrong," don't you? if so, own up to it! if you're going to disagree with someone, disagree with them openly! none of this simpering "uwu canon jiang cheng actually" bullshit - say with your full chest that you think that everyone else's takes are shit, and why!

if you're going to be a hater, just own up to it and call yourself a hater! don't be a coward. don't be so condescending and disingenuous with your cowardice, either. why are you emulating the cardboard bullshit version of jin guangyao peddled only by the most deluded of jiggy antis? 

and - for once - recognize that if it is acceptable for you behave in a certain way towards others, then it is also acceptable for others to behave in the same way towards you. if you're going to tag your blatantly canon-violating bullshit with "canon jiang cheng," then you do not have the right to get mad when jc stannies tag their equally canon-violating bullshit with "canon jiang cheng" as well.

[holdmymallowsweet]

What are you doing here? 01

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 4328, properly tagged on AO3

Chapter summary: Falling right between the awkwardness of their first encounter outside the Undercroft and their jaunt into the Scriptorium, Ominis and the new fifth year have an innocuous little meet up in the library. 

a/n: I’ve always wondered why Mc would offer to talk to Ominis about the Scriptorium, when their last interaction outside the Undercroft was so hostile, and I figured there could have been another conversation in between- not anything deep or meaningful, just a little chat that made it clear that they don’t hate each other. So that’s what this is, and although it’s now the first chapter/prologue of a slow-burn longfic, it was originally a oneshot and can still be read as such, if you prefer. Enjoy! And many, many thanks to @myokk for encouraging me to finally post this, you're the best ❤️

Masterlist || Chapter 02

Chapter 01 - Invitation

Sending her that letter might have been a mistake.

Ominis Gaunt had been sitting in the library for hours now, waiting for someone who, he now realised, in all likelihood would not come.

“I heard you running around aimlessly in the defence against the dark arts tower again today. If you enjoy my company that much, perhaps you would like to join me in the library this evening. I’ll wait.”

It was supposed to be a playful way of telling her he was not angry anymore, a sort of peace offering after he had yelled at her outside the Undercroft. 

It was only after he’d sent the letter that he realised it probably sounded presumptuous and rude beyond belief. Words on parchment couldn’t tell the reader what tone of voice they’d like to be read in, at least not until someone invented a spell for that, but it was too late to take it back.

He sighed. Honestly, he could not remember what possessed him to write the blasted thing in the first place. It had been a whim, a result of his frustration and loneliness when he heard he’d be spending another evening alone because Sebastian had gotten himself detention again. He was not usually that bold, and she was practically a stranger.

They did happen to share a best friend in Sebastian though, so one could hardly blame him for trying to get to know her. In fact, it might be long overdue.

At least that was the excuse he’d use if anyone asked. Or the one he told himself, to be honest.

The truth was, she intrigued him. It took him some time to realise it, but now that he did, he couldn’t let go of the feeling. If Sebastian was to be believed, she was curious about him too, or at least she had been, for a fleeting moment- before his temper got the better of him and he took his frustrations about Sebastian’s betrayal out on her.

Ominis sighed again and ran his hand through his hair.

Someone from across the table shushed him, and his face twitched in slight annoyance.

Oh, he really hoped they’d be gone by the time she showed up, whoever they were.

If she showed up.

By now, it seemed more likely that he’d stay here sulking by his lonesome until it was time to walk back to the dungeons, perhaps facing a bemused Sebastian who’d already know where he’d been. The two of them seemed incapable of keeping secrets from one another, after all.

That would ultimately be the proper punishment for his unreasonable jealousy, her rejection delivered by his best friend.

He’d come to the library with every intention of writing the assigned essay for Herbology, determined not to care too much about whether she’d take him up on his invitation, but it was a lost cause. His self-spelling quill wouldn’t work properly unless he concentrated on the precise words he wanted to put on the parchment, but with his head filled with thoughts of the new fifth year and the undefined nature of whatever relationship they did or didn’t have, all he had managed to write so far was an embarrassing mess.

Ominis considered writing with his own hand, but thought better of it. He could, of course. He’d make notes or short letters without his enchanted quill regularly, but writing an entire essay without being able to tell when the lines would inadvertently run into one another was a daunting task. He’d have to use twice as much parchment as anyone else, and he already felt sorry for Professor Garlick, if she’d have to decipher the mess.

Finally, he decided to just give it up. The door opened, and once again, he strained his ears. He was able to recognize her footsteps by now. Not her, just some unfortunate chap getting chewed out by Madam Scribner for returning his books late.

He was starting to feel ridiculous.

It felt like hours since he’d hurried through the castle, almost slipping on the wet fallen leaves covering the stairs when he left the owlery. Heart thumping with excitement, he’d even made sure to sit at a table where he would, hopefully, be seen by her as soon as she walked in, but far enough away from the librarian to have a conversation without being reprimanded for disturbing the peace and quiet.

Actually, if he hadn’t been so concerned that she might not see him and leave, or that he might miss her coming in, he would have preferred a table in the farthest corner on the second floor, away from prying eyes. She was still the talk of the school and gathered attention wherever she went, and “What is she doing with Gaunt?” was not something he wanted to hear whispered in the corridors.

Thankfully, it was one of the last warm and sunny days before the autumn chill fully set in, so most students were happy to make the most of it and took their work outside. Even Cressida Blume still seemed determined to let Madam Scribner forget her face (not that she would), and he hadn’t heard any other classmate of theirs either. 

Sebastian’s detention was pointless busy work as usual- scrubbing or cleaning or something of the sort. Truthfully, Ominis had ceased to pay attention when his friend complained about his punishments long ago. Whatever it was, it kept him far away from the library- no one was foolish enough to try and “punish” Sebastian by letting him get his hands on even more books.

Not that it mattered whether they knew the curious onlookers or not. She was still the object of everyone’s interest and admiration, and with the way things were going, that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. Not while she was so eager and endearing, always willing to drop everything the second someone needed something from her.

Right, it wasn’t like her to deny a request from a fellow student. She’d usually jump at the chance to do someone a favour, even if it came from someone she’d never seen before, even if it was much more bothersome than studying in the library for an hour or two.

So why wasn’t she here?

She wouldn’t have shown anyone his letter, would she? Unless she didn’t have to, if the owl reached her at an inopportune time, Merlin knows who else might have read it over her shoulder.

Ominis could imagine it, them sitting in a circle in the Hufflepuff girl’s dormitory, passing his letter around, seemingly teasing her about it in a playful attempt to get her to be wary of him. Until her curiosity would get the better of her and she’d ask them why precisely they found him so disagreeable. He shuddered. 

According to Sebastian, she already knew. She knew, and didn’t care. 

According to Sebastian, she also felt apologetic and regretful about their last encounter, much like him.

And if that was the truth- he couldn’t be entirely sure it was, but if it was, why wasn’t she here? Ominis tapped his quill against the parchment, piercing tiny holes into it and probably soaking the table underneath with ink. 

He was slowly but surely getting annoyed now. If she was as regretful about invading the Undercroft as Sebastian had made it seem, she should have pounced at the chance to meet up with him and make things right.

Of course, that had been weeks ago, so she might have gotten over it by now. Still, he wasn’t good enough for her to at least show up and quietly do her homework on the opposite side of the table? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any work to do. She always did, with all the extra assignments the Professors threw at her to help her catch up, and even if by some miracle she didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt her to simply study, for once.

She could have come. Ominis frowned. Unless she actually couldn’t.

Notorious troublemaker and rule breaker that she was, he’d often half jokingly wondered when her recklessness would come to bite her in the arse, only it wasn’t unthinkable, was it?

Her duelling skills didn’t make her invincible, it was entirely possible that she was lying dead, or dying, somewhere on the cold forest floor. Small animals and insects already crawling under her robes and the scarf she always insisted on wearing, slowly devouring her corpse while a confused owl pecked at her, trying to get her cold hands to take his stupid, embarrassing letter. 

Ominis took a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to squash the slowly rising dread.

Stop it. She was  fine, she had other things to do, or she thought she was in trouble with him again and didn’t feel like being chastised and insulted all evening. It was annoying that she didn’t even want to find out what he wanted from her- nothing, really, except perhaps a chance to clear the air- but he had no right to complain, he was the one who messed things up.

And his annoyance was merely a way to mask his fear of rejection.

He slumped down, his forehead hitting the table with a soft thud. Ears filled with the sounds of soft footsteps, turned pages and scratching quills, ink from his quill staining his fingertips but nothing to really occupy his mind in her stead.

Why couldn’t he have spent a few more minutes to rewrite that letter, although one could barely call it a letter- the note, why couldn’t he have tried to sound a bit more friendly and inviting? Then again, even a second longer might have caused him to rethink the whole thing, keeping him from sending it at all.

All things considered, that would have been a blessing in disguise, saving him from making an absolute fool of himself.

He’d heard it countless times from the Sallow twins, trying to console him in his moments of self-doubt; that he was a good person, a good friend, that he was fun to be with, but it’s not like she’d ever seen that side of him.

The two of them would make an odd, unlikely combination, but he wanted to get to know her, be near her. His invitation had been a final act of desperation- or perhaps insanity- a desire to hold on to the strange but comforting, tender feeling that rose in his chest whenever he heard her voice in class or her footsteps in the hallways nowadays.

At the very least, he wanted to make sure there was no lingering resentment between them.

The library door opened again, and the next sound to reach his ears suddenly made his head feel blissfully empty. 

It was her voice, and he instantly straightened his back and cocked his head to the side to listen better as she greeted the librarian.

She made her way through the library, with eager steps, drawing closer until he could smell her signature scent, then until he could hear her breathing. Ominis noticed she was slightly out of breath.

Had she been in a hurry?

To meet him?

In spite of the confusion, the sick feeling inside him dissolved almost instantly, all thoughts of why she made him wait only to show up hours later forgotten. She cared. She cared at least enough to give him a bit of her time.

“Hello, Ominis,” she said.

He knew she wasn’t one for formalities, calling all of her classmates by their first name without invitation. 

What surprised him more was the lack of any bitterness or trepidation he’d expected to hear in her voice, instead, she sounded cheerful, excited, almost.

“There you are. Care to sit down?” he replied, trying his best to sound unbothered while ignoring the sudden flutter of nervousness in his stomach. The scraping of the chair from across the table told him she did.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I’m really sorry.”

Are you?

She sounded genuinely apologetic. Suddenly he realised, with another bout of nerves, that this would be the first time they actually had a proper conversation. Without any shouting. She was here for no other reason than to spend time with him, and more importantly, because he asked her to.

Ominis took perhaps a bit too long to answer, but she didn’t seem to notice. It sounded like she was busy taking her textbooks out.

“It’s all right. It’s not like I was just wasting time waiting for you, I was quite busy.” It was almost not a ridiculous lie, considering he’d been busy indeed, desperately craving her company, making a mess of his homework, hoping she’d care enough to show up. He hoped she wouldn’t think too hard about the messy, half empty parchments littering the table. 

It wouldn’t be fair to be upset about it. After all, he invited her on short notice and they never agreed on a time to meet.

“I left as soon as I got your owl, but it took me a while to get here,” she sighed, casually pushing aside his mess on the table to make space for her own.

Why? Where have you been?

Obviously not on school grounds.

“Why would that be?” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“I was near Aranshire.”

“Aranshire? What were you up to over there?” He raised his eyebrow. He knew it was one of the Hamlets, the one close to Hogsmeade station, if he wasn’t mistaken, but he couldn’t judge exactly how far away from the castle it was.

Oh, he had a bad feeling about this, and she, ever so perceptive, noticed.

“Nothing to be concerned about.” she said airily.

She doesn’t trust me.

Ominis knew he shouldn’t hold it against her. They barely knew each other, after all, and yet he couldn’t help the tiny stab of annoyance as she was lying to him yet again. If it had been Sebastian, she would have told him. 

Then again, Sebastian had never threatened to get her in trouble with the Headmaster.

“Anyway, on my way back something came up and I looked a bit dishevelled by the end of it, and it took me a while to sort that out. That’s why I’m late. I really am sorry.”

“You looked… dishevelled?”

She hummed in agreement, taking a moment to shuffle around pieces of parchment before answering properly. “Just a bit.”

“You do know I wouldn’t be able to tell,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed, and Ominis was almost disturbed by how much he liked the sound of it.

“Fair enough, I suppose, but others would, and I wouldn‘t want to give anyone a reason to stare, or… talk more about me than they already do.”

Ominis tensed. He’d always been aware and annoyed at how much the entire school seemed to gossip about her, but he’d never considered that she’d know, or how she felt about it. There was an odd sort of undertone in her voice.

He wondered yet again how much she knew, or guessed, about the things others said behind his back, when they thought he was out of earshot, always underestimating his hearing. They were careful when Sebastian was close, but they had no reason to hold back when it was just her.

So was she concerned about what the others might say if they saw them together? For her sake, or for his? He was beginning to feel sick again.

“Why did you look ‘a bit dishevelled’ in the first place?” he asked in an attempt to return to the original subject, and perhaps lighten the mood a bit.

“Well…” she hesitated for a moment. “I had a run in with some spiders.”

Oh no.

“Really, nothing to be concerned about.” She added quickly when he furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something.

If he had to guess, this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened- in fact he knew it wasn’t. Dragons, Trolls, Dark Wizards, now this- and Merlin knew what else in between. She almost seemed to enjoy it, always roaming around, curious to see what else she could take on.

That recklessness made him uneasy. He had spent the last four years with another one like that, and the two of them being best friends felt like pouring oil in a fire.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course I am. Nothing a bath and a Wiggenweld potion couldn’t fix,” she reassured him.

So you did get hurt.

Ominis frowned. He couldn’t smell any blood, and didn’t hear any strange whispers when she came in. She also didn’t sound as if she was in any pain, so she most likely wasn’t lying when she said she was fine now. Her having just taken a bath also explained why the scent of her soap was slightly stronger than usual and not mixed with the earthy, piney smell of the forest that always clung to her when she’d been roaming around the highlands.

“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly.

The question caught Ominis by surprise. “Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem a bit tense. If there’s anything I can help you with…”

Even without sight, he could guess she was pausing to look at him expectantly. Merlin, did she think that’s why he asked her to meet him?

“No, I…” There were a lot of things he would have liked to say to her, and yet he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

He had to say something, though, because the silence between them as she waited for Ominis to finish his sentence was starting to feel oppressive.

“I’m fine,” he finally said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how much he was stressing over what, to her, was a casual conversation she had with dozens of others on an average day.

For Merlin’s sake, they were classmates sitting in the library, making smalltalk.

Time to change the subject.

“Really though, what were you doing out there?” He tried his luck again.

“Just the usual.”

Ominis barely managed to suppress a frustrated sigh. “Which would be…?”

She seemed to consider him for a moment. The building frustration from her annoyingly vague answers must have been evident, and Ominis thought for a split second that he’d pushed too far.

“Nothing too exciting. Chatting to some of the locals. Looking for good spots to collect potion ingredients, that sort of thing.”

“Sharp must be very proud of you.”

She laughed that melodic, infuriatingly infectious laugh of hers, and Ominis was both relieved and grateful that the atmosphere lightened considerably again, even as the annoying git who shushed him earlier made a disapproving noise. If she’d heard it, she’d decided to ignore it, and Ominis was more than happy to follow her lead.

“I’m not doing it to please Professor Sharp, I quite enjoy potion making- unlike some of us,” she teased.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t bother denying it, it’s not like I’m imagining the sour look on your face every time I look at you during Potions.”

So she hadn’t been ignoring him, even after everything that had happened. His insides squirmed pleasantly. Perhaps she was still curious about him, after all.

Ominis cleared his throat.

“So, had any success in finding those potion ingredients?” he asked, awkwardly attempting to keep the conversation going.

“Hmm. I’m running out of Horklump juice, but there weren’t any around. I did find some Ashwinder eggs though, at an abandoned poacher camp nearby,” she rambled on absentmindedly, still shuffling around her pieces of parchment. “I’ve always been curious about them, you know. I’d like to see one someday.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. They’re dangerous criminals, you know.”

She held back a laugh. “I meant an Ashwinder- as in the creature, not the poachers. I’ve seen quite enough of them.” 

“...it was a joke.”

She giggled. “I’ve been thinking about how I always collect their eggs as potion ingredients, but I’ve never actually seen one,” she mused.

Well, they weren’t exactly the sociable sort, even for snakes.

Ominis had met an Ashwinder once, in the gardens behind his family home, after it had slithered out of an abandoned fire his older brother had been playing around with before he’d wandered off, bored. Excited to have someone to talk to, someone who he’d hoped wouldn’t either dismiss him or use the opportunity for some casual cruelty, Ominis had bent down to greet the little snake. It had told him to sod off and slithered away to lay its eggs. Back then, he’d been sulking the whole day over it.

The corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Shame, he thought ruefully. There he actually had a somewhat funny story about the very thing she was interested in, and he couldn’t even tell her. Not without revealing secrets about himself that he’d rather keep tightly guarded.

“Have you ever heard one?” She inquired.

Ominis stiffened instantly. So much for his tightly guarded secrets. He really would have to wring Sebastian’s neck one of these days. “What do you mean by that?”

“I only meant, well…,” she answered sheepishly, “… you obviously wouldn’t have seen one, and I know you have good hearing. Sorry, did I say something wrong?” She was obviously taken aback.

“No, of course not. I’m sorry.” He relaxed. So Sebastian hadn’t told her that, at least. He cleared his throat. “You would have to be lucky to see one. They are born from unattended magical fires and only live for about an hour, barely long enough to lay their eggs.”

“Ah.” She was fumbling with her quill, running her fingers along the feathered edges, from the sound of it, seemingly deep in thought, and thankfully not angry at him for snapping at her. “If they’re born from fires, what are they laying eggs for?”

“I think that’s a question better asked of Professor Howin,” Ominis replied. “You’re the one taking Beasts class, not me.”

“So… could I just make a fire somewhere, ‘unattend’ it and wait for one to come out?”

He gave her an amused snort, not sure if she was being serious. “Are you taking a page out of Peeve’s book, trying to burn down the castle?” Brows furrowed, he still flashed her a warm smile as she had a fit of giggles, and a pleasant warmth spread through his body.

“Perhaps I should take a page out of Peeve’s book, that’d make us even,” she said.

Ominis was waiting for her to explain that rather puzzling statement, but she didn’t.

“Meaning…?”

“Never mind.”

He brushed it off. This was all he’d wanted, sitting together, having a pleasant conversation, laughing about each other’s jokes. And yet it didn’t feel quite right, there was still a wall between them, made up of secrecy and lies.

She finally seemed to have started on her work, the scratching of her quill adding to the symphony of the rustling paper and soft hums and whispers surrounding them.

Apologise for yelling at her about the Undercroft.

Ominis wanted to, he really did, and if he was ever going to, now was the time- but he was still embarrassed just thinking about it and he didn’t want to ruin their first decent conversation by reminding her of how horrible he’d been. It might have been easier to talk about if she was the one to bring it up, and he quietly wondered why she didn’t.

Through the ambient sounds, he heard Madam Scribner get up from behind her desk, about to make a final pass through her sacred halls. Reminding students not to leave a mess, picking unwilling volunteers to tidy the mess of the ones who didn’t listen amongst the stragglers who couldn’t flee fast enough, he was almost tempted to make sure it’d be the two of them.

It wouldn’t be fair, though.

Based on her account of how she’d spent her evening so far and his own idle contemplations, they’d both need to dedicate the remaining hours of the day to schoolwork, and she’d already dropped her previous plans as soon as she received his owl- a courtesy far beyond anything he deserved.

They were out of time.

“We should probably leave.”

There she was, slipping through his fingers again. If only she’d arrived half an hour earlier, maybe he could have gathered his nerve and apologised, at least.

“Wait, weren’t we going to do our homework? I haven’t even started, to be honest.”

Ominis smirked. “The library is about to close, you know. I’ve been here for hours before you came in.” Not that he’d been very productive in that time.

“Oh.” She sounded defeated- and perhaps even a bit disappointed?

That might have been wishful thinking on his part.

“I guess I’ll head back to the common room then. If I’m lucky, Adelaide’s still up and I can copy from her.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Cheating on our assignments, are we?”

“Oh, well. I can’t always be a saint,” she said cheekily.

For a second, Ominis had the urge to walk her back to her common room, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. It felt like it would be too much, walking around the castle with her, giving others the opportunity to make assumptions about a relationship that he himself didn’t yet fully understand. 

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said instead. He gathered his things, ignoring the growing regret and guilt.

“See you, Ominis. And… if you enjoyed my company enough, perhaps we could do this again?”

He felt his cheeks grow hot. “Sure.”

She laughed. “Cheers.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Her scent and her laughter still lingered and he was left wondering what, if anything, this little get together had accomplished.

Ominis could not have known this would be their last proper conversation before the three of them entered the Scriptorium.

more a/n: Before the Scriptorium though, the next chapter will be a little trip down memory lane, featuring the earful Sebastian got for showing her the Undercroft. It’s finally here! I started working on this a while ago, so if you’ve read this far, thank you! Like I kind of hinted at in the beginning, the concept of this fic is basically “what could they have been up to ‘off-screen’, if canon events stay exactly the same” (up to and including the fact that no one ever mentions mc’s name, we’ll see if I live to regret this decision), and I don’t know if that’s interesting to anyone but myself, but I’d be happy if anyone wants to be along for the ride.  Writing from Ominis’ pov is a challenge and I try my best to keep in mind that he’s blind when describing things (so don’t expect visual descriptions of anything, ever), but hopefully without constantly drawing attention to it, I hope I managed to do that respectfully and realistically. That said, if anything feels off to you or you have questions, feel free to let me know. And finally, English is not my first language. I proofread and edit everything I write to hell and back but if I still misspelt anything or obviously misused a word, let me know so I can fix it (just be nice about it). There’s a lot more I wanted to put in the authors’ notes but I think it’s already rambly enough, so I’ll leave it at that. Until next time? (I’ve written a few chapters ahead and I’ll try to upload regularly, but realistically, I probably won’t manage it more frequently than once every 1.5 to 2 weeks)