#it was impossible finding such a thing specifically but i got bored and decided to look again recently and i found it on the first page

[todayisafridaynight]

sister saw me wearing the puffer that i use for my daigo cosplay since im cold all the time and sweaters arent enough and she was just like 'i really like it :) you look so. 👊💥' and after going What she was like 'you look real cool :) is what i meant :)' like thank you sister of mine youre too silly for this life

[lilahisntsadanymore]

Blood status seems to become less important when you acknowledge the actual feeling of love. What will Theo do when Y/n comes to the terms with the differences between them being impossible to ignore?

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Author's note: My apologies for keeping you waiting so long, but I finally got some time off at uni!! Wishing you all a good year!!

Kind of a 2nd part of this fic, but you can read it without the previous one

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Keep you safe

One evening, Theo was waiting in the library. Waiting for a person he never expected to talk to. Y/n Granger. He found himself feeling a bit nervous, even though there was no reason.

Thinking about Y/n made him feel something. A feeling he never felt before. Slughorn said it's love, the muggle kind of love, the purest form, not induced by anything supernatural.

Theo decided to read about it. Hoping to find some book about it, he asked the librarian. She gave him a book specifically about love potions and spells. One of the first chapters was just what Theo was looking for.

"How to tell the difference between love and infatuation caused by magic." He whispered the first sentence to himself.

He started reading, his mind realizing what he got himself into as his gaze brushed over the text. Well, technically it wasn't his own fault and apparently also not the girl's fault.

But there must've been a reason. If love was a part of biology, brain chemistry, there had to be some logical factor.

"What are you reading?"

When Theo heard Y/n's voice right next to him, he immediately closed the book, causing it to make a loud sound.

"You took such a long time I got bored." He replied.

"Don't be so shy," the girl shifted her eyes to the title of the book, "oh, love potions and spells? But we're doing something completely different."

"Really? I couldn't care less, forgot what we were supposed to do." Surely one thing he'd love to do was making out with her on that table.

Y/n put her homework on the table.

"Read it and tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, I just-"

"What's wrong with my text, Nott. I didn't ask how you were doing."

"Right."

Theo took the papers and started reading. The text was written with the most beautiful handwriting he's ever seen. So elegant, so precise.

"How long did it take you to write?" He asked.

"One evening. It was easier than you'd think."

"I think it's extremely easy." He bragged. "Anyway, is that all? Or do you wanna add something?"

"Well, Slughorn thought it's necessary for you to help me. Is there anything you think should be added?"

"Uh, no, it looks fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Fine? Theodore Nott, the perfectionist Slytherin, settles for 'fine'? I expected more from you."

"Look, it's not my homework, it's yours. I don't know why I agreed to help you, but it was pointless."

"You got yourself into this, could've said no."

"What the fuck am I even doing?" Theo asked rather himself than the girl. "I don't need to be helping a mudblood, who cares what grade you'll get." With these words, he stood up.

"Because-" Y/n stuttered. "Because... I've heard your conversation with Slughorn. And you said... that you liked me."

"Me? Liking you?" He snorted with laughter. "What the hell, Granger?"

Tears formed in Y/n's eyes as she watched Theo walk away. Sure, he was mean to her before, this wasn't the first time. But this time was somehow different.

Y/n could swear she heard Theo confessing to Slughorn that he's actually in love with her. It's not possible her brain played tricks on her. Plus Hermione said Theo told her about his feelings for Y/n.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Harry walked onto the astronomy tower. Y/n was supposed to be back a long time ago. Ron and Hermione also wanted to go there, but Harry asked to let him go alone.

Harry knew where Y/n was thanks to the Map. He felt such relief not seeing Nott's name next to hers. She was standing alone, leaning on the banister. There was something in her hand, Harry couldn't see well in the dark, but from the smell he realized it was a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoke." He spoke.

Y/n expected this to happen, she was aware of Harry's feelings towards her. She took one last drag from her cigarette then dropped it on the ground, put it out with her shoe and kicked off the tower.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Y/n asked, smoke leaving through her mouth. "I knew you're gonna look at your silly little map to see where I am."

"We were starting to get worried. Theo is... you know, dangerous. We got scared he would hurt you."

And he did. Theo did hurt Y/n, just not physically.

"Hermione should be here instead. But, let me guess, you told her you'll check up on me."

"Maybe," Harry admitted finally, "do you know why? Because I actually care about you. I've had feelings for you for years. I deserve you, not Nott. I deserve you, because-"

"Because you're the chosen one?" She mocked and paused. "Look, Harry, I like you as a friend. I've never felt anything more than this. I can't change how I see you and I won't pretend otherwise."

He nodded, acceptance settling in. "I get it. I just... I thought if I cared enough, it would make a difference."

"Caring is important, Harry, but it doesn't always lead to the feelings we hope for."

"Whoever you date, just don't date Nott, please."

"I promise I won't. Not after today, I'm over him."

"Care to share what happened?"

"I'll tell you, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Let's go, I've been here too long."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Y/n didn't even know how wrong she was that night on the astronomy tower, but she forgot about it. Weeks went by, Christmas had passed, everyone were back from the break. Classes started again and Y/n found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of Theo.

They kept exchanging glances on the corridors, accidentally bumping into each other in the crowds. Y/n wanted to believe Theo liked her, but even if he did, they could never work.

"Y/n, listen to me," he said, catching her when she was alone in the library one time. "I know how things have been between us, but during the break I... I realized I don't wanna keep being enemies."

"Theo, you know it could never work. You said what you said and maybe it's better to leave it this way."

"I contemplated a lot," it was true, he spent the break mostly in his room, drowning in thoughts. About her, about them, coming to terms with what he was feeling. "I decided to accept my feelings."

"That's great for you, but we could never work. I've always 'fancied' you, I guess, despite what you were doing, ironically, but the time we worked on my project together, I accepted we could never work."

"And why's that?"

Y/n took a deep breath, wondering if he was stupid or just pretending. Maybe it was a bet he had with someone. Maybe Draco dared him to do this.

"You don't see how different we are? What do you expect is gonna happen? Would you introduce me to your father? Wouldn't you care that I'd get you disowned?"

Theo looked at her, Y/n could see sadness in his eyes. She realized her words made him realize the differences between them, because he walked away. Theo walked away without a word.

Y/n pierced her own heart with an invisible knife. She was really hoping they could work, but it just wasn't possible in this universe. Maybe there was a universe where none of this purity bullshit didn't exist. Y/n wished she would've been born there.

Y/n couldn't predict what Theo was going to do. She thought her words made him give up on her. It was for the best, of course, she should've focused on her studies firstly, and then on a realistic relationship.

It was a Friday. Y/n was sitting next to Ginny by the Gryffindor table. It was dinner time, all the students gathered in the Great Hall. All the students besides one Slytherin, the one that Y/n hoped to see. Maybe it was weird, but she enjoyed the sad looks they'd pass to each other.

"Hey, Y/n, are you listening?" Hermione asked from across the table.

"Sure," Y/n quickly shifted her eyes to her sister. "You were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You've got divided attention. Stop looking at the Slytherin table."

"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "were you doing this again? Merlin, you stare at this Slytherin git 90% of the time."

"Well, he isn't here today. I wonder where he could be. Everyone else is here."

"There he is," Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes.

The golden trio and two younger Gryffindors looked at the doors' direction. Theo had just walked into the Great Hall, but surprisingly he didn't walk towards his table. He walked towards Y/n.

"Y/n," he spoke, catching everyone's attention. People were reading to witness another argument. "I can't help this, I love you."

Shocked noises came from all the tables, but Slytherins kept whispering between each other also when Theo continued talking.

"I don't care what anyone says, anyone thinks. Love is not meant to be controlled, it kills me to fight it."

Y/n stood up from the table, ready to leave the room.

"Theo, stop," she begged, "you're embarrassing us both. Your friends will-"

"I don't care what they do. If they don't accept it, they're not my friends. If anyone wants to fight me for having feelings for a muggleborn, I can fight, I've never lost a duel."

The whole Great Hall fell silent, even the teachers didn't try to intervene, when they saw Theo pulling out a small, black velvet box.

"I want you to wear this ring," he opened the box, "as my promise to always protect you from whoever tries to harm you or our relationship."

"It's beautiful, but..." Y/n was speechless by the sight of the ring. It was silver with two gemstones forming a subtle heart - half emerald and half ruby.

"It was custom made and if you accept it, I'll once get you a matching engagement ring. Also, there are thorns which will hurt you when you try taking it off. I want you forever, Y/n Granger."

The ring in the black velvet box sparkled under the enchanted ceiling. The Great Hall remained in silence as Theo poured his heart out, confessing his love. The unexpected turn of events had everyone on edge.

Slytherins exchanged intrigued glances, Gryffindors shared confused looks and even the teachers seemed to not know how to react. Y/n could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, and for a moment, she considered the potential consequences of accepting Theo's proposal.

"Theo," she began, her voice breaking, "it's not that simple."

"I know it is. But I can't keep hiding my feelings, Y/n. I've tried, and it's tearing me apart. I'll protect you from whatever comes our way."

Y/n looked at the ring, then back at him. "I believe in second chances. And I appreciate your sincerity. I accept the ring, Theo."

Theo carefully took the ring from the box and gently slid it onto Y/n's finger. The Great Hall burst with cheering and applause, only the Slytherin table didn't seem so enthusiastic about this.

Theo placed his hands on Y/n's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, her hands sinking in his dense her yet the ring on her finger still visible, reflecting the light from the ceiling.

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Carter and Lovecraft, by Jonathan L. Howard (2015)

I really wanted to like this book.

I've read a few Lovecraft novels and stories, and I liked them. So when I saw this on my friend's bookshelf, I borrowed it, and read it.

Tried to.

The first real fly in the ointment? NYPD protag sees his partner take a 9mm retirement in front of him on a creepy case, and becomes a private detective. Mysterious lawyer shows up at his office one day and says there was a bookstore owner in Providence, Rhode Island, who has been missing and just declared dead.

The protag gets the bookshop. He's not sure why.

Protag goes to the bookshop. Owner's niece, Emily, is there. She's been running the shop alone since the owner vanished, and she co-ran it when he was alive. Also, she's biracial. Would be played by Zoe Kravitz in the movie, he thinks.

Her name is Lovecraft.

As in, she's a descendant of ol' Howard Philips.

She notes the irony; a black-ish "mulatto" descendant of an anti-black racist.

"Okay," I think, as I checked the publication date. "You've gotten that token bit out of the way. Now, can we move on?"

Apparently not.

As protag starts looking into the disappearance and other weird stuff, he decides he needs to get his eye in. So he goes to a gun range, where he needs to sign up for the NRA first

and ends the session by "re-engaging the safety" on his Glock.

Fun fact: stock Glocks don't have manual safeties, AFAIK.

In the next chapter, protag thinks about how he used the gun. He hates the NRA and the whole "gun fetish" thing, but he needs the iron, just in case.

Two strikes. Three if you count the safety thing.

Yes, I know an NYPD cop might be a bit bigoted about the issue, especially considering how his partner died. But it really feels like the writer's opinion.

In fact, let me just-

Yep. The writer is British. This sounds awfully familiar.

It was about this time that I realized something. The protagonist has no traits that aren't directly related to being a cop or detective. Absolutely none.

I don't think we know what he does in his off hours. No friends. Nothing but the job.

Heck, Miss Lovecraft has more personality than him, and she takes up a lot less screen time.

Protag decides to give Lovecraft half the business, so he can become a silent partner. People start dying in physically impossible ways - like the dude who drowned in his dry car in a parking lot - our hero looks into it.

He also ends up learning about a local family, the Waites. Rich, keep to themselves on their own land, been around since before the area was officially settled, apparently.

The local who tells him about all this says the younger ones are oddly attractive. The family has distinctive big eyes.

Anyone remotely familiar with HP Lovecraft just went "Oh, right, they're fishmen. Got it." I've seen this trope done better before, like in the comic Shadowgirls.

Hero looks into the archives, finds records of a racist Town Council rant by an early Waite, back when they were still into trading. Including slaves. Specifically, patriarch Newton Waite went to a council meeting and said black people should serve others, and shouldn't have self-determination.

The archivist intern says it's was "a different time", and that's just how people were back then.

Of course, he adds "People who talk like that now - no pass for them."

End scene.

Like this extremely mainstream, boring opinion is some kind of

In the next scene, protag chats about the fit he had near the Waite place. Learns about another mysterious death. When he chats about it with Emily, he suddenly realizes she's hot.

Then the narration tells us that he was a racist bigot in his teens, though he thought he was being sensible at the time. He now knows he was wrong, but he still feels sparks of it when he reads about some black kid doing some stereotypically black thing, which gives certain white people "a hard-on of righteousness".

And, of course, his time spent walking away from "instinctive racism" means his dating pool opened up. Like Emily Lovecraft, for example.

The most stereotypically black thing would probably be crime. Or being a single mom or deadbeat dad.

 Sadly, I know of plenty of black people - from my black majority home country - who fall into one of those categories. Or two. Three if you include "poverty", but we're Developing, so that barely even counts.

Also, this basically came out of nowhere. Not Emily being hot - I mean, look at Zoe Kravitz - but his unsolicited thoughts on racism.

All of these issues have also been issues for many concerned black people. For decades. The 'stereotypically black things' might be bad themselves, not because they make racist white people feel smug.

This is precisely where I closed the book for good. I would've put away the bookmarks, but I needed the page so I could write this rant.

Honestly, writing all this made me realize that I should've given up long before I made it halfway through the book. But I just kept hoping it would get better.

Doing the same well-worn cliches in a modern setting doesn't really make them interesting. Neither do the little 'racism is bad, mmmkay?' bits.

[bardoftheshire]

When Can I See You Again?

Patrick Stump x Gn! Reader

Here's the Ao3 link if you prefer to read on there :)

Summary; Pete sets Patrick up on a blind date with one of his friends. That friend just happens to be you, and regardless of how unenthusiastic the both of you were, the date goes more than well.

Notes; This might be shitty. I decided to write this at 12 in the morning, but it's fine because I get a fic out. I'm finally starting to become more active again (yay!). This is also cheesy as shit as always, as all my Patrick fics have been. :)

Warnings; Just some foul language, as always .

Volume: ■■■■■□□□

"Come on, Pete. Really, it's fine, I'm perfectly fine not having a boyfriend *or* girlfriend!"

"Y/n, you know I love and care for you, man, and that means finding you someone that you'll love, and that will love you. Trust me, the friend I'm setting you up with is awesome, you're gonna get along great with him."

"I really don't see why you think it's so important that I have one."

"Come on, Y/n. You're 19 years old, live alone, go to college, *and* work 6 hours a day on top of that. You need something to look forward to when you get home *OTHER* than sleeping."

"Pete I-"

"Nope! You're going on this date. Worst comes to worst, you don't like him and you just go back to your boring, horrible, unhealthy way of living."

"Fine, fine! I'm only agreeing to this so you shut up and stop bothering me. If I don't like it you have to promise me that you won't try to do this shit again, okay?"

"Deal." Pete says, putting his hand out to shake yours and you shake his back, settling on an agreement.

You'd been friends with Pete since you were a little kid. He was 4 years older than you, but you two lived next to each other when you were growing up, so he just became an immediate friend.

You loved him, you really did, but sometimes it was impossible to actually deal with him. Of course what he was doing was all in good intentions, and you hate to admit that he was right when he said you were lonely, but you felt that you unfortunately never had the time or energy to be in a romantic relationship with someone.

You go into your room and take your cellphone and apartment keys. You were already ready, and usually you would be spending your weekend sleeping an relaxing, Pete decided to set you up on some blind date with one of his friends, or one of the people he was in a band with to be more specific.

If this person were to be anything like Pete is, you probably won't go on with it, it sounds shitty but you could barely handle one Pete as it is.

"You ready, man?" Pete asks, getting up from the small couch you had in your small living room.

"Yeah." You say blandly.

"Be more optimistic about this, dude. You'll like him, or at least become friends with him, believe me, he's totally what you're into." Pete says, punching your shoulder and you to walk to the door.

"How do you know what my type is? What if I don't have a type?" You say, rubbing where he hit you.

"I just know, you know?" Pete shrugs, waiting for you to lock your door.

You sigh and roll your eyes as you make your way to your car.

"Okay, where is this place again?"

"It's just that diner across the street from that record shop we used to go to. The one we got kicked out of. Remember?" Pete said, sitting next to you in the passenger seat.

"Ooh, that place has the best burgers!" You exclaim, then drive out of the car lot onto the street.

You smile to yourself as you recall that memory. The last time you had gone to that diner you and Pete got kicked out for being too loud. You weren't usually the type of person to be loud or rambunctious, but Pete had the tendency to make you come out of your socially awkward shell when you hung out with him.

Pete talked to you the whole way, it was only a 10 minute drive from your apartment complex, but time always seemed to go by faster when he was ranting about, he always had the most interesting things to talk about, and this rant was about some of the songs that the band was recording.

You arrive at the diner and park your car. You and Pete get out and he goes up to the building window and points out a guy, seemingly around the same age as you, sitting at one of the back booths with two milkshakes in front of him.

"That's the guy you wanna go to. Call me when you two are done and try to have fun." Pete says, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"Wait, you're not going to stay in there with me? At least at another booth away from the one I'll be at?" You say, looking at Pete with wide eyes.

"I can't stay, I've got stuff to do, man. Plus, I don't wanna creep over you two." Pete says, walking away.

You were left standing there in complete shock. You'd fully expected for Pete to sit somewhere farther in the diner where he wouldn't be visible but still be there just because, and you were surprisingly upset and afraid when he said he wouldn't.

You take a deep breath and walk into the diner. You haven't been on a date since you were 16, and it definitely didn't work out then. If this little date somehow worked out and led to something more serious, it would be the first romantic relationship you would be in.

You make your way to the booth and stand awkwardly as you wait for him to notice you before you ask to sit.

"Uh, hey. I believe you're the guy that Pete set me up with?" You say quietly, rubbing the back of your neck.

The boy looks up and quickly fixes his posture. "Oh, uh. Yeah, yeah." He looks up at you and looks somewhere else after a few seconds.

"I, uh, do you think I could sit with you?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that, yeah of course you can."

You sit at the seat across from him, slowly sinking into the worn out booth seats.

You always thought that Pete was a pain because he was the complete opposite with you, but you now found that he was so much easier to talk to than another person that was just as awkward and quiet as you were.

This guy was cute. You don't tend to find people attractive, maybe because you're always in such a rush and tired with everything, but he was seriously cute.

His face was slightly on the chubbier side, he had a button nose and shoulder length hair with sideburns and a pair of glasses. That's pretty much what already did it for you, but his eyes that hid behind that pair of glasses were such a pretty colour that you were lucky enough to see within those few seconds of awkwardly looking at each other.

"Oh, I ordered you a milkshake. I didn't know what flavor you liked so I just got you vanilla. I hope you don't mind." He said, pushing the milkshake and straw closer to you.

"Oh! Thank you that's very sweet." You say, a smile on your face.

"Being that this is the first time meeting each other, we should probably introduce ourselves, I think?" You say after about a minute of swirling your straw around in your milkshake.

"Yeah, probably. I'm Patrick, I'm 18 and I just graduated high school. What about you?" Patrick laughs lightly.

"I'm Y/n, I'm 19 and am in my first year of college right now. I'm going to be completely honest, I don't really do anything or go out much. Pete usually drags me places to get me out more." You laugh.

"I totally get that. So, what do you do?" Patrick says after taking a drink of his milkshake.

"Well, I'm majoring in computer science right now and have a minor in music technology from an AP class in high school and am trying to get it for college, too so that I can do it professionally with theaters, venues, and maybe even bigger bands. After I finish my classes for the day, I work at a comic book shop most of the day and then I work at Hastings as a night shift sort of thing. So I don't really get breaks. But to be honest, It's actually something I like, a lot of people I know enjoy their resting time but I hate not having anything to do."

"Wow, that's impressive. So I'm assuming you don't really have time to do stuff like this, huh?"

"Yeah, I think this is like, the second date I've ever been on. The first one I'd been on was when I was 16. I never ended up hitting it off with the person, so I've also never been in a relationship. Anyways, enough about me, I want to know more about you." You say with a small smile, putting your elbows on the table and holding your hands together underneath your chin to keep your head upright.

"I'm in a band with Pete and a few other guys right now. I can play the drums, guitar, piano, and can sing, too. We're actually recording our first album together! But I also have a job, I just work at a retail store right now, nothing too special." Patrick says.

"That's nice. You like to keep it simple. I do wish I could actually appreciate my time to myself, honestly. Four instruments is impressive, though. I only know how to play the bass and it's only because Pete taught me so I could have something "fun to do and not be a loser" as Pete said. I do admit, though, I really enjoy it."

You've never actually talked this much with someone you just met before. Something just clicked with him, that made you feel comfortable and interested. You don't know why, but maybe this date isn't going as bad as you thought it would, and that Pete, unfortunately, was right. How he managed to know exactly who you would find interesting when you didn't even know yourself is beyond you, but right now, you're glad he did.

You continued to talk about interests and found you liked most of the same things, making the conversation all the more exciting and long.

"So, you said you had experience with music tech, right? Has Pete ever offered you to do anything for or with the band? Like, working a mixer or setting up mic's for the instruments correctly?" Patrick asked, leaning in closer to the table.

"No, surprisingly he hasn't, actually. Why?"

"Well, since we're getting into recording our songs, I figure we could need someone that knows how to do that sort of stuff, but Pete is the one that usually organizes that sort of stuff. I don't know why he hasn't asked you yet." Patrick explains.

"I'd love to work with stuff like that again. I might have to ask Pete about that."

Maybe Pete was right. Maybe this is exactly what you needed and that he did know your "type". Getting out and talking to people other than Pete was actually nicer than you thought.

You realized then that you needed to be with other people and not be such a hermit, maybe that's why you were feeling so sad, the only person you had were your parents' occasional calls (or not so occasionally to be honest) and Pete.

"Yeah, you totally should. I feel it would honestly be pretty cool to get to work with you." Patrick says, leaning back into his seat and looking away.

"I will. It'd definitely be nice to work with you guys, too. Especially you, I feel." You say. That was probably the boldest thing you've ever said. You didn't actually think you'd said that until Patrick looked up at you with a shocked expression, yet still a still small smile on his face.

"Yeah, definitely."

This was getting more and more enjoyable by the minute. You never burned up like this before, but the dorkiness of him was making you flush more than you would've ever expected. He was like you in an odd way. Same interests, same way of how you both acted, you've never had anyone be almost the same as you. It was nice talking to him about things that you liked and that he knew about too.

Sure, Pete was somewhat dorky and knew what you were talking about sometimes, but it always would end quickly from his rather short attention span.

By now the two of your milkshakes have already melted long ago, half of them still left from all the talking you two did rather than drinking it.

You hear a ding from the door, thinking it was most likely just another customer. Patrick looked behind you and fixed his posture from the way he was hunched over the table so that he was now sitting up straight.

You look behind you to see what Patrick currently was.

"You guys have been here for like, 2 and a half hours now. I mean, I'm assuming it's going great and I hate to cut it not so short but I gotta get home." Pete says, scratching his head as he looked down at you and Patrick.

"It's been two hours!?" You shout at Pete, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yup!" Pete says, popping the 'P'.

You run a hand through your hair and sigh. This felt way shorter than two hours, and to be honest you were really sad about it. You'd had a lot of fun talking to Patrick and getting to know him. He had this sort of charm to him that reeled you in even more, regardless if he might've been conscious of it or not.

You get up from the booth and clean up what very little mess you and Patrick left on the table, Patrick helping and doing the same.

You get your wallet from your back pocket to take some cash out for a tip.

"No, no. Don't worry about it, I'll get it." Patrick says, taking a 5 dollar bill out quickly and placing it on the table.

"No, you already paid for the milkshakes, please, Patrick, I'll leave the tip."

"Nope, it was my treat, don't worry."

"But, Patrick-"

"You know what, I'll leave the tip. Here, take your money back." Pete sighs, taking the bill from the table and shoving it into Patrick's hands, then leaving one of his own on the table, clearly tired of you and Patrick going back and forth about the tip.

"Thanks, Pete." Patrick says, scratching the back of his neck.

"Hand me the Keys, I'll start the car while you flirt with each other." Pete says, snickering.

You take your keys from your pocket and hand them to him, your face rapidly heating up from his comment.

"Fuck you, Pete." You say, glaring at him.

"Uh-huh, yeah, whatever." Pete says, giving you a grin before walking out the door of the diner.

"You and him are complete opposites, how'd you two get to know each other?" Patrick laughs lightly, pushing up his glasses.

"Me and him were neighbors. I never really had any friends so Pete was the one person I ever hung out with. When he moved out of his parents' house I was still living with my parents, so we didn't see each other all that often, but we still called each other and hung out sometimes. He's always just kinda been there for me since I was a kid."

"You two have known each other that long already? I've only known him for a year now. He's a character for sure, though."

"Oh yeah, 100%." You laugh.

"I um, I had a lot of fun today. When do you think I can see you again? Or if you want to of course, you don't have to if you don't want to and I totally get it if not." Patrick says, rambling towards the end.

"I would love to see you again, Patrick. I had a lot of fun talking to you, too." You smile.

"Cool, cool, yeah. Can I get your number? To text you when or where, y'know?" Patrick awkwardly says.

"Yeah, of course! I'll put it into your phone." You say, putting your number into his phone and giving it back to him.

"Thanks. So, I'll see you sometime soon?"

"Yup, just call or text me and set up something, I won't be doing anything on weekends so thats probably the best time for anything, or whatever." You ramble.

"I'll do that. Thank you, Y/n. So uh, bye for now?" Patrick says with a crooked smile on his face.

You have no idea where you'd gotten the courage to do so, or what was even going through your head when you gave into the urge.

"Bye, Patrick." You say quietly after leaving a small peck on Patrick's cheek.

You quickly walk out of the diner to your car, now realizing what had just happened.

"Wow, what happened? Did I just see that?" Pete says, a smirk plastered on his face.

You slam your head onto your steering wheel and grip it tightly, staying there for a while before covering your face with your hands at an attempt to cool down your burning cheeks that were only getting hotter and hotter.

"Oh my god, why did I do that? How did I do that?!" You say to yourself, your voice muffled from your hands covering your face.

"Hey, first base already, huh? Maybe you'll make it to third quicker than I thought." Pete teases, nudging your shoulder.

You uncover your face and punch Pete in the arm, earning a whine and hiss from him.

"Fuck you, Pete."

You pull your car out of the parking lot, but catch a glance of Patrick. He was holding the side of his cheek with his mouth agape, watching as you drove out.

You did that. You're the reason he has that reaction. Holy shit.

Pete turns the radio down and rolls his window that was previously down back up.

"Told you that you would like him. Do you admit I was right, now?"

"What?" You say, turning your head to look at Pete for a couple of seconds then going back to the road.

"Y'know, the whole thing about me knowing your type and exactly what you needed. Admit I'm right." Pete persists.

"What? No way, man!"

"Hmm, okay, then. Patrick and Y/n, sitting in a tree, K-I-" Pete starts to sing.

"I'll throw you out of this fucking car and make you walk, Pete, I swear I'll do it If you don't stop." You say sternly.

"I'll stop *only* if you admit I'm right!"

Pete was stubborn, and he knew you wouldn't throw him out. Trying to ignore him would prove to be useless, too, unfortunately you'd have to admit it even if you didn't want to. Because he'd never stop.

"Fine! Fine! You were right about everything! Will you shut up now?" You say, throwing up one of your hands from the steering wheel.

Pete lays back into the seat and smiles proudly, staying silent for the rest of the ride back to your apartment.

You park and sigh as you get out of the car, locking it after Pete exited.

"Well, I've gotta go now so I could go get shit for me to eat. Thank me for this later, man." Pete says, walking off to his car parked not to far from yours.

"Bye, Pete."

"God, why did I do that?" You say, throwing yourself onto your bed.

You lay there, the same thing replaying over and over again in your head. You'd be honest, you were kind of proud of yourself for actually being able to do that. You have no clue where the bravery and boldness of that action came from.

After a little while, your phone dings, indicating you had a message from someone, most likely Pete to continue to tease you.

You pick it up, only to see it was from an unknown number.

-Hey, Y/n. It's Patrick!-

You immediately get up and look at the text message closely, a smile forming on your face.

You save his phone number into your phone as a contact and quickly type out a reply.

-Hey, Patrick! What's up?-

You had the same smile plastered on your face until you remembered the kiss you gave him on his cheek before you left the diner.

Oh shit. What if he's texting me to say something about it? What if I fucked up? Oh my god.

-Nothing right now.-

Three dots appeared on the bottom left corner of the screen. Appearing, then disappearing a few times before another text was sent.

-Hey, about that kiss before you left..-

You cringe, thinking of the worst possible outcomes and messages after that text was sent.

You bite your lip out of nervousness as you type out a response.

-Sorry. I just kind of did it without thinking. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I totally understand if you're like, weirded out or something.-

-No! That's why I wanted to text you, I didn't want you to feel like it bothered me. I didn't really mind it. Like, at all.-

You look at the message and let out a sigh of relief. Calmer about the fact that he wasn't bothered by it.

-Oh okay. Cool, cool. You dont know how relieved i am to hear that '•○•-

-I was already thinking.. Maybe if you're free next Saturday, we could go downtown and just walk around and eat somewhere for lunch?-

The smile that appeared on your face was so big it started to make your jaw hurt.

-That sounds great, I would love to!-

-Awesome! I'll talk to you later, though, I have to go to sleep now so I can get up early to practice with Pete and the other guys. He'll probably give me another "motherly" lecture if I'm late and tired again.-

You laugh to yourself as you read the text. Pete has given you more than enough of those motherly like lectures Patrick just texted about, so you weren't even surprised.

-Goodnight, Y/n. I'll talk to you tomorrow?-

The three dots showed again for a brief few seconds before one final text from Patrick sent.

-Please do. Goodnight, Patrick<3-

-<3-

Your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks began to burn up even more, impossibily more.

Pete's antics of getting you out never worked and you were never fond of, but this time you're glad he forced you to this one.

Volume: ■■■■■□□□

This one took me like, a week to finish? Maybe one of the few I've ever finished this quickly. This was very very cheesy but it was really fun to write, and it's a Patrick fic, so it gets an exception. Hope you enjoyed it! I'm currently working on two other Patrick fics as you're reading this, too!

[yumeasmrscript]

[ASMR script] [A4A] Whenever you're too scared to eat, we can eat together

Tags: [TW: Eating disorder] [Emetophobia] [Partner Speaker] [Anxiety] [Skipping meals] [Comfort] [One bite at a time] [You will be okay!] [Loving relationship]

Author's note: Hi everyone! First thing first: this script is written as A4A, but feel free to edit it to fit as M4F, F4M, F4F, M4M, etc. English is not my first language, you can also edit a few things here and there to make things sound less "weird" if there's the need. You are also free to edit/add/remove sfx of your choice! You are allowed to monetize, just please credit me <3

More notes you can just skip: So, this script is very specific and kinda personal. The phobia of throwing up is a nasty fear to deal with, and sometimes it can lead to serious health issues because when you're too scared of the idea of feeling sick, you stop eating as a way of avoiding the (often very very vary small, close to impossible actually) chance of throwing up. I didn't know there were so many people with this phobia, and I haven't seen many scripts related to this topic, because often the not-eating problem is related other form of anxiety/issues. So, I decided to make one related to this phobia, and hopefully it will help those who could have struggled eating for this very reason! Remember you are not alone in this, and that if it feels too much to handle, you can seek help through therapy (and take it from me, it can be better. It will get better!)

Summary (for listener): Your loved one comes home after work and wants to take you out for dinner but you're not that hungry, plus you have some leftovers. The problem is: they saw you skipping breakfast and the same leftovers were supposed to be your lunch. They realize now you have been skipping meals, so you tell them about your phobia of throwing up and, as a consequence, your fear of eating.

[Action/things happening] *Moods* Emphasis on a specific word

_________________________

[Door opening and closing]

Honey, I'm home! What a day... Today it was much more chaotic than usual there.

[Removing coat]

Hi there sweetie, let me give you a hug [pause] ...and some kisses [Kisses here] What were you watching?

Just the boring news? Ooh, I see, you were waiting for a show to start. Mind if I sit next to you, so we can get bored at the news together, while we wait for it? [another Kiss]

[Sitting on the couch]

*Relaxed* Aaah, bless whoever invented the couch… [Kisses, caresses] ...It feels so weird coming home and finding you waiting for me, you know? In a good way, of course. Knowing you will be here when I return, it's fuel to get through the day. It's not even two weeks since we moved in together, but I feel like I already got addicted to this feeling [chuckle]. I can’t help but look forward to the moment we can just relax and cuddle.

[Chuckle] You too? ...Aww, yes, that's the smile that keeps me going. How was your day, sweetheart?

Tough day at work for you too huh?

*Excited* Oooh, but you have some gossip? I can't wait to hear all about it! You know I’m always in for the tea. Hey, you know what? Since we're both coming from a draining working day, why don't we just go somewhere nice for dinner? 'Cause... now that I think about it, we still didn't get the chance to go out for dinner since we moved in together. And even before, it feels like ages since last time! I can't even remember when it was. So… yeah, what do you think? Dinner's on me, of course!

*Slightly disappointed* Hm? Why not? I mean, it's not like we have to, but... not having to cook and clean afterwards sounds like a good deal to me when we're both tired, don’t you think?

*Gentle* You're too tired from work to go out? Well... I guess, we can stay at home for tonight, then. Hmm, what about just ordering delivery? I mean, same thing but we can chill here, watching something that’s, hopefully, not the news... cuddling a little bit, relax... how does it sound, honey?

*Confused*You're... not that hungry? Uhm, yes, I can order something for myself but... what if you get hungry later?

*Lighting up the mood* Hey, don't expect me to give you half of mine if you change your mind! You know that you are my favorite person and I love you more than anyone, but food is… well, food. [Laugh] I’m joking, I'm joking. Kind of. [Chuckle] In all honesty though, I wouldn't mind sharing, but... listen, why don't you just order something anyway? So that if you get hungry later you still have something to eat, and if you don't... you have something for tomorrow's lunch anyway.

*Confused* Huh? What do you mean there's no need?

The... leftovers? Wait a moment, we still have leftovers from yesterday’s dinner? I thought… I thought you had it for lunch?

You didn't? So... you ate something else at work?

*Mockingly* Oooh, wait, I know what happened. Let me guess: you forgot to bring them with you and you had to buy a crappy and expensive sandwich at your workplace, didn't you? [Chuckle] That would clearly explain everything.

*Confused again* No? What did you get then? I didn't know there were other options to sandwiches there...

Okay,"Something", but what exactly?

*Slightly concerned and confused* Hey, what's wrong? What's with that expression? Is there something botheri-

Huh? Water? You mean... you want to drink water now, or...

Oh, you had... water... at work? For lunch?! I mean... wait, wait a moment, let me get this straight:

Yesterday evening you weren't hungry because you told me you had "something" at work before coming home, and I assumed it was one of those crappy, sad, sandwiches, so you skipped dinner because of that. This morning you said you only wanted your herbal tea. At lunch you had "water" and now you want to skip dinner too?

*Worried* Just... just be honest with me. When exactly was the last time you actually ate something? Like, a meal?

*Assertive* No, no, look at me. And Water doesn't count. Tea doesn't either. When was it?

*More worried* What- what do you mean you don't remember?! Okay, okay, let's make it easier: when was the last time you ate anything? A cookie? Fruit? A… dunno, protein bar?

*Frustrated, but trying to be calm* No, I'm not- of course I'm not angry, I'm just worried! As far as I know, the last time I actually saw you eat something was three days ago when you had half of an apple for breakfast! I... I was sure you were eating at your workplace most of the time, so I didn't really think much about it, but... oh goodness, please, tell me you had something since then. Anything really. Tell me you're not starving right now.

*Concerned, but more calm* Okay, so... yesterday, at lunch time, you ate kinda two spoons of peanuts, more or less. And... is that it? Nothing else?

*More gentle* No, don't apologize! I'm... not angry, really. I just... don't understand. Are you feeling under the weather or something and I didn't realize it? Or, I don't know, there's something worrying you to the point you don't feel like eating?

Whatever the reason is, why didn't you tell me? You know I'm here for you, just like you have always been here for me when I needed it. *Sweet* You have always supported me whenever I felt sad, angry, worried... You know that we are a team, right? So, please honey, tell me what's wrong.

*Frustrated again, less gentle* No, it's not "fine"! Not eating anything aside from a few grams of peanuts one day, half of an apple another one, it's not "fine" at all! I... for goodness sake, I don't want to be inappropriate but... how much weight did you lose?

It's not like I didn’t notice you felt… thinner whenever I hugged you, but... I just didn't think it was that serious, and I didn’t want to be intrusive. I didn't think you were skipping meals and avoiding food almost every day, I... I just...

*Sad* Sigh, I swear I'm not angry honey, really, I'm only really worried. I… don’t want anything bad to happen to you, I care so much about you! Please, just… tell me why, let me understand.

You are... scared? Eating gives you anxiety? But... why? Is it for your body? *Still worried, but more gentle and reassuring* Because I assure you that there's nothing wrong with your body. You are the most wonderful and attractive person I know, and I love everything about you, really. Your mind, your soul, and your body too. And I don’t care how and if your body changes, I’ll still love you for who you are.

...Okay, so it's not for that. Then... what is it? Hey, look at me. You can talk to me about anything.

*Frustrated/concerned* No, it's not dumb! No reason is a dumb reason if it makes you starve sweetie. I'm not here to judge, I just want to understand better.

So...You are afraid to... throw up? Wait, but... why would you throw up? You are healthy, the food you eat is good too, there's no stomach bug around… I don’t understand, and--

Oh, I’m sorry, just… Hey, ssh, don't cry, it's okay... I didn't know you had this kind of fear... [kiss] and I didn't know it was tormenting you this much. I’m so sorry honey…

*Comforting* Yes, I bet it’s frustrating… you’re actually really hungry, huh? But you’re too scared to eat because of the idea that could get you sick.

It... does explain a few things though. Like the fact that you avoid alcohol, or you refuse to eat anything beyond their expiration date even though it still tastes good. Or also that time when you canceled a meeting with your friend after you discovered they had a stomach bug. Sigh, I'm really sorry for being so blind, I'm connecting the dots just now. I just... wish you had told me sooner. Come here, let me hug you. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I told you already: we are a team. If you struggle with something, I’ll struggle with you until we find a way to overcome it, together. All right?

Good, honey. [Kiss]

So... how do you usually deal with it?

Okay, so... you only eat as little as possible when you feel too hungry to resist? Well... yes, in some way, the fact that your stomach is empty could be some sort of reassurance for you when you are afraid of throwing up. But you do realize you can't go on like this, right? You're losing weight, and it's not going to stop if you keep eating like this. Or rather, “non-eating” like this.

*Relieved* Sigh, I’m glad it’s not always like this, and this is just the worse it can get. In fact, now that I think about it, when we started dating I don’t remember you avoiding eating this much. I mean, yes, we usually ate at home and when we ate outside you always got something light.

It was more problematic before meeting me? I’m happy to know that you were able to deal with it in the past, at least for a while. So… is it just a relapse? Or maybe what you tried before wasn’t enough?

I see… Okay, so, hear me out. You already did it once anyway, and... I’m sure it’s hard. Because, when you are scared of… I don’t know, a dog maybe? Or a spider? You can run away, and the problem ends there. But… [sad chuckle] you’re right, you can’t run away from you stomach. It’s always there and… you have to learn to live with it.

Oh, honey, I figured. I’m sure you love food, and it’s frustrating for you too having to give up what you love because of your phobia. I’m sure you’re telling the truth, because when we talk about your favorite food, I can see the light in your eyes, but it… vanishes after a few seconds, because you probably think something like “I won’t be able to eat it anyway”. It is difficult, but, the good news is… you can do this. You can eat, and 99,99% of the time you will be more than fine. Look at me: I don’t even remember the last time I felt sick. And what about you? You told me the last time you threw up was years ago. The chance of throwing up are close to zero when you don’t have any health issues and, trust me, if you had any serious health issues, you probably would have felt sick even without eating. So...

*Calm* Okay, First thing first, take a deep breath with me, so you can relax.

[Deep breath]

*Gentle* Good, now, let’s wipe those tears away… And… let’s do this: I’ll find a way to eat the leftovers tomorrow for lunch myself. I’m sure they’ll still be good. Tonight we’re getting a delivery of your favorite food instead, and...

Hey, honey, don’t say “no” right away. Try to change your thinking from “I can’t eat it” to “I am able to eat it. I can eat it. And I enjoy eating, because it’s my favorite food”. Remember that your body knows what it needs to be done, and when you give fuel to your body, there’s a very, very little chance that your body will send it back. Anxiety doesn’t help the hunger, I know, but trust me: you will be okay. Would I ever lie to you?

No, exactly. So: we’re getting a delivery of your favorite food...

Okay, you’re nodding now, good. Then, you just take one bite.

Yes, just one. And I’ll get just one bite too.

Then, we wait let’s say… 60 seconds. In the meantime you can take deep breaths, drink a sip of water, or just… watch tv with me. Then, we take another bite. Slowly, chewing as much as possible, and then another pause. You can also hold my hand during all of this whenever you feel the anxiety coming, ‘cause I’ll be with you for each bite.

We’ll keep eating just one bite at a time, until you feel relaxed enough to eat a little bit on your own, or until you feel satisfied.

And, when we’re done, we can drink something warm that will help your digestion. Not that it really needs any help, because your body can do anything on its own, but it will be helpful for your brain. Because knowing it will help your digestion, it will make you relax a little bit. And, if you relax too, that will truly help even more. Okay? Do you want to try this with me? I won’t force you eat anything you don’t want, and we’ll stop when you will say so. I’m sure you will do your best, because that’s one of the many reasons why I admire you.

*Relieved* Good. [Kiss]

Mh-mh, I’m glad you will talk to your doctor about it. Remember that you are not alone in this, and if you need help of any kind when you need to eat, I’ll be here for you. I’m… just glad you told me before it was too late. [Kiss] I just want you to feel calm and serene whenever and whatever you eat. If you already found a way to do it in the past, I’m sure you will do it again.

And when you least expect it, I’m sure you will find the joy in eating once again. Until then… I’ll be with you, for each step of the way.

You’re welcome, sweetheart… [Kiss] I love you too.

[shewhoeatssand]

Why do you like kaneki so much (you can be as insane as you want while answering this)

Honestly I have thought about this a lot for a long time and I don’t really know. One day I saw him for the first time and went “yep this is it this is my new guy” and nothing ever changed. It has been years. And this has never happened to me with anything else. I just saw him and decided I needed to know about him and then he was in my life every day afterwards (going to have a big yap session under the cut)

And I find this kind of crazy, because the kind of person I interpreted him as has changed a lot over the years and I’ve only ever come to like him more? I’ve never been disappointed when finding evidence that changes what I initially thought of him, only more enthused. You know those cringy edits of him saying edgy stuff with the same few shots of him being sad in the anime or artworks of him with his mask on? That was my first impression of him and it was completely different to anything I ever liked before!! And I knew this!!! I wasn’t even allowed to view violent media!!!! And I kept getting more curious about him??????? It was so weird, every time he acted in a way I wouldn’t have found interesting my tastes just changed to accommodate it without me realizing.

I knew something was definitely up when I was well into my Kaneki fixation, but wanted to make my own oc bc I kept seeing other people making them. I wanted them to be as beautiful and intriguing to me specifically as possible. I’d think “what is the most attractive hair colour?” and it’d be white. Then eye colour, face shape, gender, personality etc and then I’d have Kaneki. It was impossible for me to create an oc that I could like more than Kaneki because they’d either become Kaneki or I’d think of ways to “improve” them that just pushed them more towards being like Kaneki. So I gave up and now I have no ocs. I couldn’t even think of any names because I could not think of good names besides Kaneki 😭😭 I missed a crucial phase for creative kids who may have just gotten into anime because I liked my anime guy too much,,,

This stretched into everything. Any media I consumed I’d compare the characters to Kaneki and if none of them had somewhat similar traits to him I’d get bored. If they were vaguely similar, even if it’s just having a funny moral compass and wearing one article of clothing Kaneki might wear, I’d imagine pairing them with Kaneki and start comparing the two further, until I ultimately decide Kaneki is way better and unique and feel guilty for “cheating” on him with this other character (even if it’s just for a few days). A while back I tried to get into other series in the hopes of finding more characters I liked as much as him but this sort of thing made me realize I’m in too deep for any of that. Any music I listened to would have to have at least 1 linking lyric or similar vibes to Kaneki, or I could imagine scenes with Kaneki where he sorta fit the aesthetic of the song (how I listened to Lana Del Rey??). I had a genshin phase a few years back which only lasted so long because I latched onto Xiao bc I found his dedication to protecting Liyue similar to how Kaneki wanted to protect the people close to him while hurting himself. Then I left the game a few months after I got Xiao because there wasn’t much left to do for me. After that I had like no interests besides Kaneki for a long time. There was some fleeting stuff that lasted while I was actively engaging w it, one that stood out was Killing Stalking because it also had a well written violent character with mommy issues, but my level of interest in it was still like comparing Earth to the Sun. I was having violent thoughts around Kaneki all the time and it kinda acted like a balm to it for some reason.

I think I’ve gotten better though? I got into fish either last year or the year before (I genuinely cannot remember a lot of 2023 so it blurs with 2024), it never expanded into me knowing a really impressive amount but at least it was something to talk about. I found an album I related to myself with my experiences w Kaneki. I’ve been into splatoon lately but mostly bc I can play with my friends and guarantee a high success rate. I think it’s important I’m interested in other things, it helps me feel more normal and makes socializing easier.

A few times I started to see him more as a god than a character, and decided he was more important than school or any human relationships. If I couldn’t talk to them about Kaneki then their only use was to help me appear normal so I could engage in my Kaneki stuff without disruption. Sometimes he would be a bit like an actual person in my head, and in order for him to live his life I had to think about him doing it, and not giving him the time would be unfair to him. So I would only do things related to him for fun and if it wasn’t linked to him I’d have a hard time finding a reason to do it, which made school difficult. At some point I started somewhat believing that he would come for me from across the multiverse and together we would find a new world where we both were able to function as perfectly as the people in our current world could and we’d be like the new Adam and Eve for that place. Told a councilor that I was willing to abandon my physical body to achieve this if he asked and she called my parents :///// I came out of it after finishing my assessments and going to Japan and the voice in my head split into 1 mean guy who was cringe and pathetic and 1 beautiful boy named Kaneki who exclusively spoke Japanese and that’s where I’m at now :3 I don’t know why all that happened

Anyway I feel like this hasn’t been answered great 😭😭 tldr for this is that he is basically attached to me at this point… he is my boy and he is never going to leave… my love for him only grows and he trumps everything else I could ever love….. I could not stop liking him if I tried and I have. I lasted 2 days. He’s not going away. The line where I end and he starts is blurred. I bring him up to my online friend group almost every day and they haven’t even read TG, they don’t know what I’m talking about. I feel like the point of this ask was for me to analyse his character and explain why this attracts me but it’s more that every time he does anything I go “wowww :DDD amazing” and it is beyond my control I just like everything. I used to look at anti Kaneki posts and then every time they made a valid complaint I’d get more excited about him because omgggg he’s so silly…On a regular basis I try to think of things he’d do that are objectively gross and it just makes me like them. He’s going to get me into feet bc sometimes I remember he has them and it makes me go “aww he has such cute feet”, I’ve already gone through almost every part of his body doing this and I’m running out of them. I thought about how he would have some body hair even if it’s faint and it made me accept my own body hair (to an extent) when I’ve been insecure about it for years. He made me like math briefly because there was a building and I thought “omg sometimes Kaneki is in a building!!”. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have a romantic relationship bc it won’t feel real unless they beat Kaneki, and if they do I’m genuinely terrified of the person I’d become about it. And to this day I don’t know why any of this started. I wish I could say we are soulmates but I don’t think he’d like being obsessed over to this degree, maybe he’d like it if it’s only a little but he’d probably find my level of obsession to be a nuisance and that crushes me (at least until I remember he’s not a good person either and might deserve to be uncomfortable). There’s days where I ache horribly because I miss him and he’ll never be there. I’m sorry I can’t give a straightforward answer besides “saw him once and it escalated from there until I couldn’t have anything else”, but that is kind of what happened. It’s both a blessing and a curse, since he gives me so much joy, but weird ass unexplainable mental stuff as well. Hope this helps ��� please no one block me for being weird or not having a good reason

[baticeer-sims]

I'd like to hear your soap box about romantic standards! I use ACR at the moment but reading that "unpopular opinions" post got me curious about other options 👀

Hiya! Thanks for asking. I absolutely love Romantic Standards, I could NOT play without it these days. I used to use ACR in the past though, so I tried to make a balanced list of the pros and cons for me. But then it got REALLY LOOOONG because I'm a wordy person sorry, so it's under a cut.

The quick TLDR of it is - I feel like ACR creates romantic chaos that's often unpleasant/nonsensical to me, while I feel like RS creates romantic drama that makes sense and also allows for a lot of variety in how different sims will feel about their relationships.

By the way, I use Midgethetree's edited version of RS because it's modular (you can pick which parts you want) and the documentation is way easier to understand lol. If you have any trouble with mod conflicts or with getting RS set up the way you like, feel free to ask me about it and I can help you out with what exact files you need.

The full soapbox under the cut!!

One thing I want to say is I think a lot of people have been playing with ACR for so long that they don't know what their game will be like without it? And they underestimate how much autonomous romantic interaction will still happen between sims. A key here is that sims can't autonomously interact romantically unless they have compatible gender preferences, and townies or CAS sims always start with 0 preference, so a vanilla hood without ACR will feel low on the random flirtations unless you use something like the Sim Blender (or similar) to randomize everyone's gender preferences! (And ACR gives out random gender preferences automatically, so you might install ACR, see a lot of people interacting romantically for the first time, and assume you can't get that without ACR when all you needed was the gender preference setting, yknow?) But I can assure you that with ACR removed, my sims are definitely still getting into plenty of unexpected romantic entanglements and exciting drama.

To my mind, these are the biggest features of Romantic Standards that I just can't get with ACR:

Random chance of crush/love status: I could never play without this now. As you probably already know, normally two sims automatically get a crush or love when they interact romantically with 70+ shortterm or longterm relationship respectively. It's kinda predictable and boring to me. RS, specifically the "slower feelings" file, makes it so that crush/love flags are added randomly with the chance being based on the sims' chemistry with each other. This also allows for some amazing Drama Potential where you could have 2 sims interacting and one is completely in love with the other but the other has no feelings for them at all! It's otherwise impossible to do that. This makes crush/love flags actually feel meaningful to me, like they represent real human feelings, instead of just being able to know that if I decide one day to smooch my best friend they're guaranteed to fall in love with me.

Simple jealousy system that makes sense: I could never get my head around ACR's jealousy system to make it work the way I wanted. I felt like sims would have their token values changed even when I set them to be static, and stuff like that, and it just was so complicated to figure out what values I wanted... OTOH, this is how jealousy works in Romantic Standards: If a sim is in love or in a committed relationship (steady/engaged/married), and they see their love/partner interact with someone else romantically, they get mad about it! Unless you put a "no jealousy" trait in their inventory (then they won't get jealous over anyone) OR if they also have crush/love flags for that 3rd sim (this, allows for you to have polyamorous relationships). I find that easy to understand and to work well for a majority of situations. There's also an option where they won't get jealous over love, only committed relationships -- but I prefer the also-in-love version because it combines really well with the previous point about crush/love being randomized! You can frequently get situations where A is in love with B but B only has a crush, so B will be willingly flirting with other people and A might get their heart broken over it because they thought this was serious... It really generates a lot of interesting storylines.

Sims don't cheat on their partners if I don't want them to: I know ACR is supposed to have settings that will make sims stay faithful, but I was unable to get it to work consistently, and I feel like I've often heard other people say things too like "I didn't want this sim to cheat but 🤷 ACR just did that". With RS, if a sim is in a committed relationship they can never do autonomous romantic interactions with someone else unless 1) they're Romance aspiration or 2) they already have crush/love for that other sim. You can of course still direct sims to cheat if you think it makes sense, but I don't have to worry about anyone's marriage falling apart if I want them to stay together. (Also, you can override this for specific sims by giving romance sims a "hopeless romantic" trait, or non-romance sims a "commitment issues" trait.)

Midge's version of RS is modular so almost all of the stuff I listed above is separate if you only want part of it.

On the other hand! Here are the things that ACR does that I've missed or that you might miss:

Autonomous woohoo and try for baby: Your sims won't woohoo on their own anymore. I found that I didn't really mind this? The woohoo timer in ACR feels kind of mechanical to me, and a lot of times they'd be starting to do it in situations that were really inappropriate (like other people are in the room and they're stripping naked on the sofa at 9am). And I don't mind the lack of try for baby either because I prefer to decide when my sims have a baby based on if they roll a want for it, or if it just happens from risky woohoo. I've noticed that simler90's original version of RS has an optional plugin that allows for autonomous woohoo but I don't know if it works with Midge's edited RS. I haven't tried it yet bc I don't mind not having auto woohoo. If anyone has, let me know.

Can't woohoo on the sofa and can't woohoo in one menu-click: My god it's so much easier to be able to click "casual...woohoo" than relax on bed, ask other sim to join, wait for them to get there, cuddle, then woohoo. Something to note is that there is a "stripped down" version of ACR which only retains the Casual Woohoo interactions and was made to be compatible with Romantic Standards. However in my experience (and that of a few other people I've talked to) the jealousy aspect of this so-called compatibility... still doesn't quite work correctly? So the "casual woohoo" option, if you have stripped-ACR, I think it will still go off of ACR-jealousy (which is impossible for me to understand lol), instead of RS-jealousy like everything else in the game? It can definitely cause situations with jealousy reactions that aren't working how they're supposed to. So um... the crazy thing that I do, personally, is keep that stripped down ACR in my game but with all the autonomy completely disabled in global overrides, at which point it is doing literally nothing other than letting me tell them to casual woohoo if I want them to woohoo on the sofa. And I just make sure to never use that option in a situation where jealousy is a possible concern, in order to avoid the issue where it doesn't work correctly. It's kind of overly complicated a thing to do just to get sofa woohoo but I'm just saying it's an option 😂

No autonomous First Kiss: This is it! The one thing I truly do miss from ACR and would really love if someone made a mod for it one day! I love when my sims do stuff autonomously and surprise me. But First Kiss is a non-autonomous action, and what's more, sims can't roll the want to "Kiss so-and-so" if they haven't already had a first kiss, so I find it kind of hard to decide when my sims will have their first kiss. I'm always like, why can't you do it for me!

The other major difference is that the "Casual" romantic interactions from ACR have lower thresholds for acceptance than the default Maxis interactions. I personally don't see this as a positive because... well... I've been playing this game for so long, I kind of know how to get sims together at this point, I really don't need to make it even easier 😅 I'd rather have RS making it a little harder for sims to fall in love. I use a lot of other mods for other aspects of the game that make it harder overall because it's more fun for me.

Also! So, I was going to give you a list of other romance-related mods that I use in my game along with RS, but then I realized I could be lazy and just give you a link to my friend @alice-in-strangetown's mods list, because she & I have pretty similar taste in how we like romance to work in this game and I use basically all the same romance mods as her :P because I started using RS after finding out about it from watching her TS2 livestreams.

If you want to try RS on a neighborhood that has ACR but you're not sure if you'd like the playstyle, I recommend temporarily replacing it with the "stripped down" ACR version (and disabling autonomy), because that way your sims will keep their ACR tokens if you decide you don't like RS and want to switch back to using ACR. Of course, it's technically possible to have both of them at the same time, but the key thing about ACR is that all of the "Casual" interactions in it are completely separate from the vanilla maxis interactions so mods that affect default maxis interactions or maxis jealousy (like RS does) won't interface with ACR interactions and vice versa.

I hope all of this was helpful, and that maybe it convinced you to give Romantic Standards a try! Like I said, if you need any help getting it set up I can give you advice or a more detailed guide on how to install it (I think the documentation's pretty straightforward tho).

[autisticviking]

🌤 — ello there. how about you tell me more about Yuzhao cause i like him??

I- I'm... Give me a second

**Sobs in the corner cause people actually like my little guy.**

BUT SERIOUSLY I'M ABOUT TO GOT ON ONE HELL OF A RANT RN ABOUT HIS BACKSTORY

Any outsider cannot find the cavern unless lead by someone who knows where it is, not that they can't access it, they just can't find it, and no one knows about it.

So basically as I said Yuzhao is mad inspired by Wukong, more specifically JTW Wukong, but also a sprinkle of LMK Wukong.

His origins? No one knows, he doesn't remember the day he was born, all that he remembers was that he was there, in that cavern under the world.

It's called the 1.5 Realm, basically it's a whole cavern that covers the entirety of Ninjago, it's big enough to be considered a realm of it's own (yes yes, applaud my worldbuilding capabilties)

There's those creatures called Roamers, because well, they roam the cavern, each with their very own surreal and unique capabilities, but they have one thing in common : they're all merciless, and they're vode is simple : eat or be eaten.

And there Yuzhao was born! He was like every other Roamer, while he did look very similar to a human (exept for features like fangs, sharp eyes, little details that he usually hide), he was actually strong, like HELLA strong, even as a baby, he likely age where most roamers die, he was already kicking ass, by the time he was a teenager he was the strongest.

I wanted to point all of this out to help with how he was in the beginning, arrogant, selfish, someone who didn't realize just how much suffering he was bringing, nor did he care, a mentality close to Sukuna from JJK, cruel, but simple.

Remember what I said about outsiders being unable to find or enter the cavern? Well same goes for Roamers, they can't find the exit no matter how much they search, it kinda works like the mist from Percy Jackson, it's not like there's something physically stopping their mind cannot comprehend and thus notice the exit

But like in PJ, some people can see through that mist, Yuzhao was one of them and guess what he found the exit. So up in Ninjago he goes.

He learned human tongue and all, quickly adapting, dude just said "fuck it we ball" and began doing whatever the fuck he wanted to do, with no regard for anyone or consciousness of the gravity of his situation.

For a long while he thought he was the strongest, until some villager whose village he just destroyed told him "Wait until the FSM finds you! He'll beat you!"

Bored he decided to go see who that FSM, and low and behold, FSM beat him without laying a single hand on him, he beat the man who could destroy mountains.

So bro was mad, very mad, he was the strongest! It was impossible! There was no way he was being beaten!

So there goes 1000000 murder attempts while FSM was just patiently sitting there, beating him at each turn, when the Half-Oni eventually discovered what Yuzhao did, he kinda enslaved (though he preferred to call it "restrain his power") Yuzhao, which only infuriated Yuzhao more and kept trying to murder him or someone, bring back the chaos he loved but he couldn't.

For a long while, FSM kept forcing Yuzhao to be sorta decent with people, and on one occasion where he saved a little girl from a Serpentine, he started to change.

What was before a very angry, cocky, destructive, selfish, monstruous jerk, became a more bitter and sarcastic man, who still had previous habits but was somewhat kind and had values.

The bitterness was mostly because he refused to believed that anyone could tame him, and it took years for him to finally stop trying to murder FSM.

Eventually, with time, he began getting used to FSM, and even grow fond of him, the peacefulness that once disgusted him comforted him, he became close friends with him, so he went from bitter and sarcastic, to smug bastard sarcastic.

I'd like to think that he spent centuries with FSM (yes it took that long to change him), and that Wu and Garmadon remember him from his bitter and sarcastic yet angry phase, which is why they are so suspicious of him, they do not remember him softening up to his now more laid-back self, since it didn't last long.

However all the destruction he made came back to him, he couldn't just get away with it, at least that's what the dragons thought, they told FSM that he'd eventually get corrupted with the Oni, FSM didn't believe them, but when he discovered that Yuzhao became friends with an Oni (who may or may not come back), it caused a conflict, one that ended with Yuzhao trapped. Under the mountain, until the villaisn freed him and you know the rest of the story.

LONG STORY SHORT

Yuzhao was born as an extremely strong individual in an enveronnement where the strongest thrive, he eventually got away from the cavern to the outside world.

Arrogant and a merciless from the years of ruling over people with pure strength, he began to wreck havoc whenever he pleased.

Heard of FSM one day and decided to meet him, get beaten easily, and thus kept teying to mutiply kill FSM, who, after learning of Yuzhao's actions, restrained the man's power to a more mortal-like scale.

Centuries pass and he becomes bitter and sarcastic, still angry but way less than before, not wanting to admit that he was capable of kindess and somewhat tamed by the great FSM.

More centuries pass and he finally softens up, accepting kindess and becoming close friends with FSM, though the dragons did not believe of his change of heart, the dragons warned FSM that Yuzhao would get corrupet by the Onis, he didn't believe yhem but when he discovered that the Roamer had befriended an Oni, conflict enssued and Yuzhao was trapped under the mountain, until ofc he was freed but then you know the rest of the story.

I still have SO MUCH MORE to say abt him but this is longe nough lol

[shadowsandkingdom]

Universe Curator Log #2

Chosen name: Cat's Paw

Universe Signifier: Universe C, Cluster A

Title: Banishment of Baneful Light

Power: Decrowned Insurrectionist (Created by an Arceus)

Appearance: Not far off from the "base model". Patterns are a bit droopy, possibly as an effect of being feathered instead of scaled or having exposed skin. Is missing the left eye and has taken quite a bit of damage to the carapace and skin in that area. Wings have been replaced with pieces from the Ring of Arceus, making flight impossible.

I got a little wordy.

...This is my friend, Cat's Paw.

So um. Let's start off with his name, then. It's one he picked recently, because the one his creator gave him was kinda bad. He said it's a constellation? I don't study the stars, though. Either way, it's really cute! Sometimes I just call him Cat.

He behaves like a cat, to top it off. He's really lazy and loafs all the time. Which I guess is fair, after what happened to him, but I think he's specifically loafing instead of just laying on purpose.

N E ways. You're probably wondering what a "Title" is in this context. It's a kind of name that only some people have. I don't have one, but I can see other people's names. So, I knew his pretty quickly. "Banishment of Baneful Light" is probably a reference to all that effort he went through to stop the Light from spreading. Since that, yknow, would've been bad.

I think the Distortion World and Hall of Origin fiascos also kind of contributed to that name though.

"Power" is a stand-in word because what I mean by it is super long and boring. What I mean is "what was this person created to do vs. what they ended up doing" basically. Cat's Paw was a Giratina created by an Arceus to be normal and stuff. He decided fuck that, and overthrew that Arceus, landing him the "Insurrectionist" part.

The "Crowned" part, on the other hand. Well.

A Crowned Legendary is the most powerful instance of that Legendary for that universe. It's also usually the first one created in that universe. Cat fit both of those requirements for quite a while, but, well.

During the Millennium War, he sacrificed everything he had to seal away the Arceus. And, sure, he ended up getting some of what he sacrificed back, but he never got back even an ounce of his original power. Everything he has now is just from absorbing stray Distortion.

So. Um. Since he was no longer the most powerful, he lost being Crowned. Now his universe doesn't have a true Crowned Giratina, but he's been training his little fawn to become a new Crowned.

At the very least, his Distortion World is mostly self-sustaining, as they tend to be.

It was also when he sealed away the Arceus that he lost his eye and took so much damage to his physical form. And that's, well, taken an emotional toll, as well. And I'm pretty worried, I guess.

Cat admitted to me that his creator (Cat said father but I don't want to give that Arceus that kind of respect) kind of convinced him that only he and Cat were perfect beings. But, the thing is, Cat kinda... Hates perfection? Like. A lot.

Because the damage he's taken to his body was that Arceus's fault, the damage is also "perfect" in nature, the way Cat sees it.

And I dunno he told me not to worry about it but I know it wears him down sometimes to appear "so ugly" (rough translation of what he said) and be so perfect at the same time. I just don't know how to convince him to take charge and make himself imperfect at this point

Cat's paw is my best friend, one of the only other Giratinas I know, and the first I've met to truly understand what it means to be a Giratina, to be a protector of life.

He means a lot to me, and I really hope he never finds this post.

[keepmeinmind-01]

Seventeen yo Theseus would be so amusing, imagine adult Newt trying to deal with that, suddenly being kind of the older brother but also really not? And the team having no idea how to deal with this new younger (less damaged ooops) Theseus

Hahaha - I think it would be so funny! I’ve got some random ideas for how it might go from my scheming yesterday about a 17 year old Theseus with only 17 year old memories (indeed, younger and a little less traumatised :,) ), with grown-up Newt and the team:

• Theseus thinks adult Newt has kidnapped younger Newt and this is all some psychological experiment to trick him before he can leave to the Auror Academy, so he ties Newt to a chair and tries to interrogate him with very legal, child-friendly Hogwarts spells to find out the “truth”

• Once he figures it all out, Theseus is inexplicably very mad at Newt in particular for this situation even though it seems like something Lally might cause and tells Newt to go to his room and think about what he’s done

• No one really wants to break the news about Grindelwald or Leta as 17 year old Theseus doesn’t even know about them yet. So they start locking him out of team meetings, meaning nosy Theseus finds more and more elaborate ways to sneak in. After finding him hiding in the ceiling rafters, the official opinion is that Newt wasn’t the only troublemaker.

• Newt is struck by this whole situation, especially because last time he saw Theseus this age, he was about 9 and Theseus seemed impossibly old and grown up. But now…

• To avoid sparking Theseus's temper by disagreeing, Newt learns to frame suggestions gently, as if Theseus is ultimately in charge. It secretly amuses Newt how quickly they fall into old patterns.

• Theseus keeps insisting he comes along on minor missions or creature adventures with Newt to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble. Despite Newt's assurances that he'll be fine alone, Theseus refuses to budge, trailing after him anxiously and startling at every snapped twig or rustling bush. Newt has to gently remind himself this fretful teen is still the same brother who always tried to shield him when they were young.

• Seventeen is not an easy age and when things go wonky, it’s usually either Tina or Jacob who steps in, as Theseus appreciates a pragmatic and straight forward approach. And Newt is NOT good at instructing a moody teen.

• He’s a good cook but always reflexively makes child-sized portions for Newt accommodating for Newt’s various and specific food preferences. Newt is always very polite but sneaks more afterwards.

• When it’s cold, Theseus wears his stripy Hufflepuff scarf (the one Theseus gave Newt several years ago, because his own got lost in the laundry of his and Leta’s flat).

• Teenage Theseus is more than a bit of a nerd, especially when it comes to dark magic, detectives, and Quidditch.

• There are constant fights among everyone regarding whether they should actually be finding a solution for this or not. Ethical debates in the wizarding world literally never go well.

• Theseus gets very moody and irritable when he's bored. The team takes turns trying to gently engage him in activities. But when he’s not bored and the whole dislocation of the situation isn’t stressing him out, he’s friendly and almost rather sweet with the team. The hugging starts after a few weeks once some of the initial wariness has eroded.

• ALL talk about their family and childhood is basically forbidden.

• When he gets upset by how confusing the situation is, Theseus automatically reaches out to touch Newt's hand seeking comfort before catching himself self-consciously.

• The spell holds for an unusually long time because Theseus’s subconscious is trying to protect him from the trauma of the future. But when the team finally decide to tell him, it starts wearing off and Theseus slowly ages back into an adult, with all his memories (and problems) restored, but also strange dreamlike memories of this time that somehow make being 17 years old a little easier.

[starks-hero]

What He Doesn't Know Won't Hurt Him

Pairing: Loki x Stark!Reader

Summary: You and Loki had been doing a fairly decent job at keeping your relationship a secret from the other members of the team, specifically your father. But what happens when word finally gets out?

Word Count: 4,480

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, angst

a/n: This gif, that is all

You had your music playing at full volume as you worked your way around the lab, your latest suit laid out on the table. It was almost finished and you were more than impressed with how it had turned out.

Grabbing one of the many tools strewn out on the tabletop, you got to work assuring each circuit was in place.

It was fair to say that whilst you were in one of your zones, you could easily get lost in your work. Which was probably the reasons you hadn't noticed Loki make his way into the lab.

You jumped slightly when two slender arms wrapped around your middle. “Loki,” you scolded, not taking your eyes away from your work. “I'm busy.”

He chuckled. “I can see that, dove,” he purred. “But I'm bored.”

“You're welcome to stay here as long as you stay out of my way,” you offered, smirking when Loki rose his hands innocently.

“You won't even know I'm here.”

You managed to steal five minutes of peace. And then Loki's ability to sit still and not cause trouble seemed to reach its end. He started simply, standing ridiculously close, running his hand along your side. Your frustrated sigh and visible struggle to focus on your suit only egged him on. He re-positioned himself behind you, hands resting on your hips and lips finding your neck.

When one of his hands began to trace down your stomach and towards the waistband of your jeans you drew the line.

“Loki, stop.” you chided urgently. “Not here.”

“Why not?” he asked, nipping at the exposed skin of your neck. “It's as good a place as any.”

“Someone could see,” you pressed on.

Loki’s kissing ceased but he didn't remove his arms from around you. If anything he held you tighter.

“And would that be such a bad thing?” he asked after a beat of silence. You sighed and turned in his arms, now facing the god. His eyes said it all, he wasn't hurt, but he was tired of keeping up this charade.

He hated having to wait till you were both alone to show his affection, having to settle for stolen kisses and subtle glances all in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret from the rest of the team. Loki was growing sick of it. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, mark you, to show everyone you belonged to him. He hated having to hide his feelings as if they weren’t acceptable.

“Loki, we've talked about this. If the team finds out, especially my dad, it'll cause nothing but trouble.” You frowned at Loki's defeated expression. “I want to tell them, I do. I love you and I want everyone to know that. But only when the time is right.”

Loki nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. Slender fingers wrapping around your wrist and he placed a kiss to your hand. “As you wish, darling.”

Loki turned to leave but you gently grasped hold of his sleeve and tugged him back. “Where do you think you're going?”

Loki tilted his head. “You said-”

“I said I wasn't ready to tell them,” you clarified. “I never said anything about you leaving.”

A devilish smirked spread across Loki's lips as he stepped back towards you, hands grasping your waist. “Why of course, my dear.” He pushed you against the cool steel of the table. “How may I be of service to you?”

You pulled him into a hungry kiss and he practically moaned into your mouth. Grasping hold of your thighs, he hoisted you up onto the table and slotted himself snugly between your legs. Truth be told, this wasn't what you had in mind. You were serious when you said the lab wasn't a good place to start something but Loki was just too irresistible. His kisses trailed from your jaw down your neck and you couldn't help the whimper that left your lips as he sucked on the sweet spot just above your collar bone.

Your hand tangled in his raven hair and he laughed breathlessly against your skin as he pulled you closer to him. “That's it, pet.”

The sudden sound of someone clearing their throat caused both of you to almost jump out of your skin. You turned towards the lab door and found a rather unimpressed Natasha standing in the threshold, arms crossed and glare seething into a certain god.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you hurriedly pushed Loki away and scrambled to your feet.

“Oh, no. Don't stop on my account,” Nat snarled and the venom in her tone was enough to send shivers down even Loki's spine.

“Nat! We were just-”

“Don't bullshit me, Y/N. You know it doesn't work,” Nat stated plainly and you swallowed. She was right, it was near impossible to successfully lie to her. “Does your father know?”

“No, no, no. Nat, you can't tell him,” you begged. “He'll kill us.”

Natasha scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at Loki, who was still standing sheepishly behind you. “He's lucky I haven't killed him myself.”

Loki shifted uncomfortably. When it came down to it, he was a god and Nat was human. She probably couldn't do much damage to him. But she was certainly intimidating. Loki wasn't so much upset over the fact that you'd been caught, if anything Loki found it rather exciting. His only worry was how this situation would pan out for you. And your relationship.

“Natasha, please. You know how my dad overreacts.”

“I'm not sure I'd count ‘getting pissed that your daughter's dating a criminal’ as overreacting.”

You felt helpless. With Tony as your father, the team were the closest thing you had to family. Nat had always been important to you, she was an older sister, a cool aunt and in some cases, a understanding mother all rolled up into one. She wanted what was best for you, and you knew if that meant throwing Loki under the bus, she wouldn't hesitate.

Noticing your struggle, Loki decided to intervene.

“Agent Romanoff, if you'd allow us to explain. I-”

Nat turned to Loki with a glare that stopped the god mid-sentence. “I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Y/N.” She turned back to you. “Tell your dad.”

“What?!”

“Tell Tony about this.” She clarified, gesturing between you and Loki. “Or I will.”

“Nat,” you started but as she raised an eyebrow you knew she wasn't bluffing. She was dead serious.

“Okay, okay, fine. We'll tell him. But just not yet-” you hesitated. “Just give us a little more time to figure it all out.”

Natasha seemed unconvinced, to say the least, but when she noticed the genuine worry in your expression she backed off and her voice softened.

“Fine. But if he finds out beforehand, I had no idea about any of this,” she ordered. “And you,” Nat glanced at Loki who was still standing behind you. “Are on thin ice.”

Nat turned to leave, shooting one final glare Loki’s way. “Oh, and a bit of advice. Next time lock the goddamn door.”

You both sighed in temporary relief as the door slammed shut and you were left alone.

“Well, that went well,” Loki commented sarcastically, rubbing at his temple.

“And that was only Nat. How do you think the others are going to react?” You took a seat on the workbench and Loki joined you.

“Were you serious?” he asked. “About telling them? Telling him?”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I suppose we don't have much of a choice now, do we?” You murmured and Loki chuckled slightly.

“I suppose not.”

“You're enjoying this.” You growled as Loki’s mood seemed only slightly diminished by the situation you’d just been landed in.

“Yes, I find being threatened by a world-class assassin immensely enjoyable,” he noted nonchalantly. Loki sighed when the fear remained evident in your expression. He gently caught your wrist and pulled it away from your face, lacing your fingers as he did so. “Honestly, my dear. There's no need to worry. It will be fine.”

“You sound awfully sure.”

“That’s because I am,” Loki smirked, his tone reassuring and soft. He placed a harmless kiss against your cheek, but couldn’t resist the urge to continue down to your jaw.

His nose grazed your neck as his breath fanned out over your skin. His voice fell to a low whisper. “Now, what was it we were getting to before we were so rudely interrupted?”

You couldn’t help but laugh in slight disbelief. “You never learn, do you?”

Loki flicked his wrist as he began to plant kisses down your neck. “Do you take me for a fool?”

 You glanced at the labs' door to find the keypad had turned red. Locked. Smirking, Loki pushed you down and picked up where he'd left off.

It had been a little over a week since Natasha had found out about your relationship with Loki and thankfully, she hadn't said anything as of yet. She was giving you a generous amount of time to build up the courage to tell both your father and the rest of the team, but it was courage you were yet to find. The stress of the whole situation had been getting to you, something that was becoming more and more apparent to Loki.

In some desperate attempt to help you blow off a little steam, the god had dragged you down to the training hall. You and Loki often trained together, though since the beginning of your relationship, training seldom actually took place during your sessions.

But you needed it today, and after less than fifteen minutes of sparring, you could already feel some of the stress dissipating.

“Let's try that again,” Loki stated, helping you up from where you'd fallen back onto the training mat. He steadied you before pacing back a few steps as you both prepared for another round.

You made the first move, Loki easily blocking your strike. He caught your other arm as you tried to hit his shoulder and he only barely avoided a knee in the groin by spinning you around and catching you in a gentle headlock.

“Fighting dirty today are we, darling?” He purred in your ear and you smirked. Leaning forward, you used the momentum to throw Loki over your shoulder, straddling him to assure he stayed down.

“Problem with that?”

Loki chuckled, staring up at you. “Certainly not.” Throwing his leg over and shifting his weight, he threw you off of him and you landed on the floor beside him. He then took up his position on top of you. “Two can play at that game.”

He used his new vantage point to lean down and kiss your shoulder. “And I do enjoy it so very much.”

You turned your head to the side to grant Loki better access as he kissed up your neck, but your blood ran cold when you noticed a familiar figure standing dumbstruck at the halls entrance.

“Shit, Steve!” You pushed Loki off of you and for a moment he thought it was an attempted diversion until his own eyes locked with the captains. “Steve, wait!”

He was already turning to leave and you took off after him, Loki right behind you. You barely caught him before he reached the door. “Steve, hear us out, please.”

He turned to look at you with slight disappointment, his cheeks still tinted red with embarrassment given what he'd just walked in on. “Why didn't you tell us, Y/N?”

“I swear I was going to. I should have sooner and I'm sorry.” You rushed. “But please, Steve. You can't tell my dad, not yet.”

Steve hesitated. He'd taken you under his wing from day one and he'd be lying if he said he saw you as anything less than family. He didn't want to put you in a situation where he knew you'd face hardship. But he also didn't want to put his relationship with Tony on the line. He knew what that could lead to.

“I won't lie to Tony.”

“Then just don't say anything!” You tried. “Not saying anything technically isn't lying.”

Steve sighed, glancing between you both, his eyes lingering on Loki a moment longer. Loki seemed to have read the captains mind.

“Captain, I understand your concerns. But I can assure you my intentions are completely good-willed.”

Steve shook his head, questioning his sanity. “Does anyone else know?”

“Natasha, that's it.”

Steve seriously pondered the dilemma he was being faced with. Part of him wanted to march off and tell Tony, part of him wanted to strangle Loki for even putting his hands on you and the other part was still hung up on how upset you’d be if he chose either of the latter options.

“Alright,” Steve said after a moment of silence and relief flooded your expression. “But if your father asks-”

“I understand.” You nodded, still breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Steve.”

You counted your lucky stars as Steve left the training hall, the whole conversation having gone way better than you could have possibly imagined.

“You know, my dear,” Loki stated from behind you. “We really must stop picking the worst possible places in the compound to make out.”

You'd been peacefully working away in the lab, adding the finishing touches to the suit you'd been working on. A few more final touch-ups and a test run and it would be ready for missions.

The door slamming opened behind you immediately caught your attention as a severely pissed off Loki stormed in. His jaw was set and his hands were balled into fists. This couldn't be good.

“Loki, what's wrong?” you asked, rounding the table and approaching him. He was already pacing.

“Thor knows,” he growled and your heart stopped. “He was asking ridiculous questions about you and I and he knew I was lying.”

You inhaled sharply and did your best to avoid groaning in frustration, unable to grasp how Loki of all people had gotten caught out lying. “Loki, you're the god of lies.”

“And Thor's a persistent bastard!” He bit back.

You grappled with the little composure you had left and sighed. Loki was still clearly fretting and at least one of you had to start thinking straight.

“Okay, well what did he say?”

“That he wouldn't tell anyone,” Loki murmured, running his index finger along his top lip, something he often did when nervous.

“Alright then, what are we worried about? He said he wouldn't tell.”

Loki scoffed. “It's Thor! He struggles to keep the simplest of secrets, he's going to let it slip!” Loki took a seat and wrung his hands. “Your father is going to kill me.”

You stepped towards him and ran a comforting hand through his raven hair. He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head against your stomach.

“You're a god, Loki. I don't think he could kill you even if he wanted to.”

“He'll find a way,” Loki moped, tightening his hold on you.

You huffed at Loki's dramatic antiques as you continued to run your hand through his hair. One thing was now painfully clear, you needed to tell your dad. Before anyone else found out.

It was all planned out perfectly. The team was set to have dinner together in an attempt to bring some normality to your crazy lives, and you figured it would be the best time to break the new. You'd wait until everyone had finished eating and you and your dad were alone and then you'd tell him.

Not only did you think it would be better to have the conversation one on one, but Loki not being there also lessened the likely hood of your father trying to kill him if he didn't take the news kindly.

The only major challenge now was making it through the dinner itself without losing your nerve. Loki assured you that he'd be by your side right up until the moment he had to leave, and he meant it. Your father sat at the head of the table, because of course he did, and you sat to his right. Loki was seated beside you.

Most of the dinner passed as they usually did when the team ate together. Clint complained about the take out choice, Nat downed an impressive amount of wine whilst somehow remaining sober and a philosophical debate had broken out despite their being no indication as to what had started it.

For once, you and Loki remained silent, too nervous to offer any input should your worrisome tone give you away. You had spent most of the dinner toying with the food on your plate with your fork.

Loki's hand gently held yours beneath the table. It was risky, but no one had noticed and it was currently the only thing keeping you sane.

“You alright, kiddo?”

You glanced up to find your dad staring at you. He motioned to your untouched plate of food.

“You haven't touched your take out. It's your favourite.”

“Oh yeah, I- uh,” you stumbled over your own words and cursed yourself for being caught off guard. Most of the team were still chatting amongst themselves, but Steve and Natasha were now watching the exchange between you and Tony attentively. “I guess I'm just not that hungry.”

He seemed entirely unconvinced and leaned in slightly, away from the prying ears of the table. “You sure everything's alright?”

You gulped. Your father was no idiot and he knew something was eating away at you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Nat nodding her head and Steve smiling supportively. This was the perfect opportunity to bring it up and you decided it was now or never. “Well, actually-”

“Nice going, Clint!”

Both your heads snapped up to see that a knocked over wine bottle had stained both the end of the table and Bruce's white shirt.

“Hey! It's not my fault. Who even drinks this stuff anyway?!”

“What the hell is that suppose to mean, bird brain?” Sam yelled, possessively grabbing what was left in the overturned bottle and dunking it into his glass. Bucky hid his smile behind his bottle of beer.

Everyone else's attention had turned to Bruce, who seemed to be doing an excellent job at not hulking out and sending Clint through the nearest wall.

You bit your lip.

“Dad, is it alright if I leave? I'm not feeling up to eating right now.” You asked. Now clearly wasn't the best time to bring something up and you decided waiting till after everyone had turned it in for the night was probably best.

“Sure thing, sweet pea,” he smiled as you stood and pushed in your chair behind you. Loki followed you, rising to his feet.

“I think it's time I also take my leave.” No one paid much attention as Loki mimicked your actions and prepared to leave the table.

“Leaving already?” Wanda asked politely and you smiled back, already prepared to answer with ‘Yeah, I'm just tired.’

“Of course they are! I'm sure my brother and Y/N have much to do and discuss,” Thor smirked, winking and raising his glass to the both of you in a not so subtle way.

Silence fell over the entire table and you and Loki grew rigid. Natasha and Steve turned to glare at Thor, who lowered his glass, realising what exactly he'd just said.

“What?” Tony said, turning to Thor with a shocked expression. Loki quickly stepped in.

“I think my brother may have had a tad too much Asgardian ale, I-

“No, what did you say?” He asked again, voice raising. All eyes were now either on Tony, Loki or you.

Thor seemed to shrink into his seat, taking interest in the bottom of his cup as he attempted to backtrack and fix his mistake. But it was too late.

Your father's gaze turned to you and then Loki, who was cautiously standing behind you. 

“One chance.” He was livid. “You get one chance to tell me the truth.”

“Dad, can we not do this now,” you asked quietly.

“The truth, Y/N.” You couldn’t recall the last time you’d seen your father so angry. And as terrified as you were, you knew lying would only dig you a deeper hole.

“I was going to tell you,” you started, wincing as he ran a hand down his face. “I just didn't know how and then Nat told me I should just-”

Your father's glare turned to Natasha who choked on her wine at your words. You mentally grimaced as you realized what you'd just said.

“Oh, so you knew!” Tony yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Nat. He turned back to you. “You told Thor and Natasha before you told me!”

“I didn't tell her! She just sort of found out...” you fumbled and Tony laughed humorlessly.

“Did anybody else know besides Nat and point break?” he asked, addressing the whole table. Steve fidgeted awkwardly in his seat and Tony immediately singled him out.

“Steve.” He crossed his arms as he glared at the captain. “Something on your mind?”

Steve sighed. “Look, Tony I-”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers.”

Steve nodded wordlessly and Tony bit the inside of his cheek, looking as though he was prepared to rip into each member of the team. You cowered back slightly and Loki stepped infront of you, shielding you from your fathers rage the best he could.

“Great! Awesome! Did anyone else know my daughter was dating a psychopath and just decided to keep that information to themselves?”

Everyone awkwardly shifted in their seats, some clearing there throats and others offering you sympathetic glances. Natasha mouthed a ‘sorry’ and Thor seemed to still be beating himself up for letting it slip in the first place.

Loki stepped forward. “Stark, I can assure you-”

“Zip it, Reindeer Games,” he warned and for once, Loki did as he was told. Tony pointed to you as if he were scolding a child.

“You are grounded,” he stated. “No more missions, no more lab privileges, nothing.”

You scoffed. “I'm not a kid!”

“Yes, you are! You're my kid.”

“Dad, will you please just listen to me.” You begged as you stepped towards your father in hopes of reasoning with him. He rose from his seat to meet you.

“No. This,” he gestured between you and Loki. “Ends now. End of discussion.”

You took a step back, feeling as though an arrow had hit you in the chest. Tears were brimming your eyes and you couldn't find it in you to meet anyone's gaze. Seeing how upset you'd become, Loki refused to bite his tongue any longer.

“Stark, with all due respect, I won't allow that. I understand your disdain for me and it's more than warranted but do not take that anger out on Y/N. You have no reason to trust me but I can assure you that my feelings towards your daughter and nothing but sincere and genuine.”

Loki's sudden statement seemed to have surprised Tony. He opened his mouth to argue but Loki didn't give him the chance as he continued.

“She has given me a second chance and I love her dearly for doing so. And I would never do anything to harm her. I love her unconditionally and all I ask is for a chance. Allow me to prove myself.”

Loki's speech had left you teary-eyed with a warmth spreading in your chest. A smile pulled at your lips as Loki turned to you. The genuine and loving look in his eyes spoke volumes and it took every ounce of control you possessed not to launch yourself into his arms then and there.

“Tony, I don't know about you but that seemed pretty convincing to me.” Nat voiced from the table and Thor immediately agreed.

“My brother may be the god of lies but he has spoken nothing but the truth tonight.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, offered Tony an encouraging nod. “All he's asking for is a chance, Tony.”

“It's pretty sweet if you ask me,” Bucky murmured from beside the captain, Sam and Wanda nodding in agreement.

Tony watched as the table seemed to take Loki's side and he battled with himself until his eyes landed on you. You were standing side by side with Loki, whilst he smiled at you in adoration. The glances you shared were nothing short of loving and Tony couldn't help but notice how genuine and mutual it truly was. Loki's hand was brushing against yours, desperate to grasp hold and comfort you but not wanting to overstep the line the tension had drawn.

Tony sighed as he realized what he had to do. You were his daughter, his everything. And he just wanted you to be happy. Even if it was with someone he didn’t initially approve of. 

“You love him?” he asked nonchalantly and you nodded.

“And you, Frosty,” Tony motioned to Loki who tried not to frown at the nickname. “You love her?”

Loki glanced at you, smiling softly. “Wholeheartedly.”

Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat as he watched the both of you, not completely ready to accept that you weren't a kid anymore.

“Well then, I guess that's that.” He smiled at you softly. “Leave it to you to fall for the God of mischief. You always were a troublemaker.” 

Your father pulled you into a hug, muttering a quiet ‘love you, sweet pea’, before pulling back to look at Loki.

“You hurt her,” he started and Loki cut him off with an amused chuckle.

“You'll kill me?” He guessed.

“Oh no, not just me. They'll kill you.” Tony smirked, pointing to the table full of avengers.

Loki nodded. “Understood.”

Nat sent you a wink and Steve and Thor smiled whilst the rest of the team seemed to congratulate you with supportive, and in some cases embarrassing, comments.

You and Loki smirked at each other, slowly turning to leave the dining room when your father's voice called you back.

“Woah, where do you two think you're going?” he asked. “Cats out of the bag now so no need to run off and hide. Sit.”

Seeing no point in arguing, you both took your seats, Loki holding your hand atop the table for everyone to see. Things quickly settled back into a comfortable conversation, you and Loki feeling freer than you had in months. The domesticity of it all was enough to make your heart burst.

“So,” Clint, who was slightly tipsy at this point, yelled. “When's the wedding?”

Tony turned red. “Don't push their luck, Barton.” He partially joked, glaring daggers at his teammate as the rest of the team laughed. As for you and Loki, you couldn't help but smile at the possibility.

tag list: @leftperfectionmoon @doozywoozy @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove​ @Kealohilani-tepise

[arvandus]

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta.  You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face.  You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed.  You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note:  A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder​​. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??).  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar.  Some looking to win romance.  Some looking to win money.  While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends.  Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band.  It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched.  You checked your phone for messages but found none.  It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up.  It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response.  Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up.  A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point.  You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now.  Sometimes it was them.  Sometimes it was you.  But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best.  At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date.  And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing.  Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians.  Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din.  Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs.  Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage.  All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club.  Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch.  Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was.  Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips.  He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans.  He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing.  The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star.  The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck.  It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This.  This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out.  You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people.  But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new.  And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump.  Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed.  But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel.  Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away.  Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble.  His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral.  To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze.  You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis.  “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons.  He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly.  “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down.  “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles.  “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow.  “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’.  You know who I’m talking about.  If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done.  But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened. 

Watching him from a distance was one thing.  But actually meeting him?  Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body.  “No, it’s okay.  I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention.  You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage.  No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him.  The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at.  And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you.  You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance.  Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift.  The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins.  You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him.  Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time.  Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did.  Only rarely did he linger for a drink.  What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you.  He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep.  It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten.  You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured.  You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit.  He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him.  No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him.  In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied.  “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied.  Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass.  Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip. 

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar.  “Duty calls, friend.  Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him.  Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later.   You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight.  A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred.  “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold.  “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned.  “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl.  It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat.  Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi.  He had a way of handling drunken idiots.  But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him. 

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind.  Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face.  A well-placed kick to his shin.  Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder.  The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort.  You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips.  But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare.  “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered.  “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.  His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission.  For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good.  Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him.  “Hey, fuck you man!”  He shouted.  But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables.  Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse.  Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess.  The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had.  But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded.  “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine.  But next time ask for one of my bouncers.  Or Hizashi.  Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin.  “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents.  “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay.  Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.”  She crossed her arms.  “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand.  I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better.  And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before.  “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love.  I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

 Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

 “And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment.  I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi.  “Get her a fresh drink.”  

 “Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

 She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

 “Thank you.” You replied.

 Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

 You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now.  “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

 “Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath.  Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display.  Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied.  There was a long silence before he spoke again.  “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then.  Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely.  The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked.  “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking.  The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.  

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown.  How long had he noticed you’d been coming here?  Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment.  You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh.  He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused.  Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time.  I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True.  I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice.  You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin.  “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back.  This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective.  Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval.  He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought.  It felt natural.  Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself.  After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face.  His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri.  You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own.  Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life.  You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory.  He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed.  “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed.  “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look.  “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink.  “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation.  You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now.  You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him.  “How about you?  Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No.  No special someone.  Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand.  Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.  

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him.  Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched.  If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned.  Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there?  What if you were wrong?  

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter.  The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy.  It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations.  Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.  

He was interested.  In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned.  Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind.  It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most.  You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.  

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers.  Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin.  That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment.  “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club.  Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day.  How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement.  But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could.  “Leave me the keys to the place.  I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug.  He placed a set of keys on the counter.  “Don’t tell Nemuri, though.  She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left.  You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze.  Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space.  He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile.  “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you.  “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips.  You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own.  Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass.  You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head.  “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid.  Used to mess around on it.” He explained.  “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails.  You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing.  “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head.  “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them.  Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat.  He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty.  The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him.  The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C.  Everything else will center around this.”  He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space.  “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys.  Like this.”  Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm.  “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.”  He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out.  Then, he removed his hand.  “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried.  The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured.  “Let’s try it again.  Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol.  It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness.  You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it.  You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit.  And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop?  How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay.  Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys.  “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his.  His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land.  Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said.  “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval.  “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time.  The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled.  “Good.  Now, for the other hand.  You’ll start one octave lower.  Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect.  Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys.  “Like this?”

Shouta nodded.  “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand.  The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you.  You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap.  His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his.  The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod.  “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily.  “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No.  Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him.  He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them.  You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this.  The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes.  To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly.  The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake.  You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down.  And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys.  All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen.  His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.  

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys.  His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable.  But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted.  But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting.  Finally, he spoke.  “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now.  “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you.  Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results.  Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need.  Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did.  It was obvious you did.  Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him.  He needed to hear it.  A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you.  At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own.  You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.  

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs.  This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing?  How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence?  And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties.  The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation.  His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps.  Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock.  Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements.  “You better stop that…” he warned.  

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end.  But you didn’t care.  You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction.  In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck.  His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw.  There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap.  The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control.  But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back.  “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath.  With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel.  He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance.  The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered.  Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit.  A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage.  With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release.  Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you.  With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching.  Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer.  You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly.  “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers.  The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake.  Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched.  Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.  

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.  Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch.  His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs.  The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips.  Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him.  But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh.  “Much.”  You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you.  “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans.  “As much as I like that idea, no.”  He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap.  His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place.  “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.  “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms.  “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.”  You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered.  You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access.  “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind.  Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes.  He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was.  You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

 You couldn’t wait.

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

[expansionofsoul]

I Feel It Everywhere - Daniel Wagner x Reader

Author’s note: Sometimes, I feel like my stories lack action. Especially because most of what’s written about the boys is so amazing and so much fun. But, for Danny, I needed it to be short and sweet. Hope you enjoy it! As always, requests are open if you’d like to see anything specific :).

Couple: Danny Wagner/Original Female Character

Words: 2576

Synopsis: When no one shows up for your book release, the kind boy who helped you at the bookstore is the only one to give you attention.

Warnings: None! Just fluff :)

Right now, there was only one topic keeping you from being completely happy and content with how your life was going. The book cover you had chosen, helped design and approved a few weeks ago seemed boring. It not only looked boring, but tacky too. You could imagine a young teen coming into the bookstore, looking at you in your fancy work clothes, looking at the book cover and laughing without any sense of secrecy. The yellow screamed ‘I’m a desperate author trying to sell poetry books, please have mercy’, and the way you had dressed to the occasion made you look like an old secretary. 

The bookstore was especially empty today. You knew from the start they wouldn’t give you a good day, because poetry books didn’t exactly gather big amounts of people and money. Still, you wished it wasn’t a monday, so you could have a few bored couples paying you a slight amount of attention. You looked to your sides, desperately trying to find another person, with no success. 

Something, this squeaky little voice that refused to leave, no matter how hard you tried, was saying this wasn’t worth it. You knew being a writer wouldn’t make you rich, but you didn’t expect to be this broke. In fact, you had no idea if you would have enough money by the end of the week. The voice mixed itself with your mother’s voice, telling you how much she expected from you when you were a kid, and how much you had disappointed her by doing the exact opposite. It was funny, actually, how even your own mother missed your book release. She wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, but it still hurt not to see a familiar face walking in, with a kind smile on her face, telling you that it was alright, and that someday you would have something to be proud of. 

“I’m sure they’ll arrive soon”, a now familiar voice said. You looked up to see a mess of curly hair trying to fit itself inside of a tiny hat. He looked at the table, set with his help, and back at you, with a kind smile that you weren’t used to seeing lately. “Sometimes releases can be tough. People are too shy to approach the writer, so they’ll wait until the next day to check the book out. I’ve seen it happen a million times before.” 

“Or maybe they’re not interested”, you contest, making sure your back was straight, to give you an illusion of power and confidence that would end up only making you seem more nervous. He caught that immediately, his facial expression telling you that he knew just how much you were suffering. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I would very much like to be left alone right now.”

“Isn’t that what got you upset in the first place?”, he asked. With your furrowed brows, he continued soon after. “Being alone. You didn’t seem too happy about it before.” 

You weren’t shy when you looked him in the eye, trying to get a sense of his appearance before you decided to truly trust him. The first thing that came to mind was that he looked like an old painting, features so prominent and noticeable that it was impossible to miss him. Still, he seemed shy enough to go unnoticed until he finally decided to show himself. You thought about it, noticing his long nose, his kind, deep eyes and the hair that desperately needed some special attention. 

Over analyzing people was your special gift. He didn’t need to say anything when you first saw him, and opinions about him were already settled. The only real fact you knew about him was that he was called Daniel and he worked at the bookstore, but that was enough.

You could tell that he was the one they called when no one else wanted to do the job, and he would be nice enough to never say no. In fact, it seemed as if he carried himself with so much joy and pride that you even considered that he might as well enjoy doing the hard work, standing in an empty bookstore for hours in the company of someone who wasn’t exactly the most exciting person in the world. He helped you set your space with so much care and attention that you didn’t remember feeling tired at all. The look on his face right now, as you looked at him with so much patience and no particular shame, proved to you that he was exactly what he looked to be: someone to count on. 

“What is it about?”, he asked, breaking the silence that filled the room as soon as you started analyzing him profoundly. “I like the cover, it’s very… happy!”

You giggled at his comment, and he followed you as soon as he noticed it was okay to do so. “I know, I guess I was inspired when I approved it”, you said, grabbing one of the books, acting as if he was a client, a potential reader. “It’s about my connection with nature and myself, I would say. I’m not a particularly positive person, so it took me a while to finally understand that I was put in this world to enjoy it to its full capacity.” 

Daniel seemed as interesting as someone could get about poetry, his polite eyes glued to your hands as you showed him the different poems you had written. He tried asking questions about each and every one of them, suddenly taking your focus out of the empty bookstore. You read some of the poetry for him, your eyes never leaving the pages as a way to avoid seeing his face when he reacted to the words that came out of your mouth. 

“You know, I think sometimes we are too focused on how busy we are to really understand how beautiful this world is”, he said. By the end of your reading session, he was sitting beside you, with his legs crossed and his face resting on his hands. He had taken off his hat, making his messy, full hair hug his features even more. You noticed how you couldn’t stop looking at him, a magnetism so unknown that it scared you. “It’s hard to understand the capacity of the Earth when you’re stuck here, cleaning dusty books and trying to find the perfect french dictionary for an old lady.” 

“The world truly is a beautiful place, Daniel”, you explained. You could feel your body trying to get closer to his, desperate for his warmth and his kindness. You could feel it everywhere. “It can get harder to recognize it when we’re used to sad moments. Not so easy to think about flowers and stars and the moon when all you can see in front of you is a table filled with books that will never be bought.” 

“Don’t say that”, he scolded you, making you laugh while you looked at his serious face, eyes almost closed. “I’m going to force every single customer to buy this. You’re gonna come back here and see them all gone.” 

“What would you like to be doing right now, Daniel?”, you asked. He waited for you to continue your idea. “If you weren’t stuck here with me, looking at that door and waiting for the day to end. What would you like to be doing?”

He thought for a second. You couldn’t stop thinking about how lovely he looked right there, with his features so relaxed with the slight break he got from work, a tired look that made his mouth drop to a frown and his eyes look even deeper. Even then, stressed and tired, he looked precious. 

“I wish I could be doing something else for work”, he explained. “I’ve always wanted to play in a band. My friends and I started one, but it’s not working at all.”

“Why isn’t it working?”, you asked. 

“None of us have time or money to invest”, Daniel said. “We’re pretty good, but that’s not enough nowadays. We need contacts, money for better instruments, places to play in and fans.”

You laughed. You could tell he didn’t understand why. “I guess we’re both failed artists, aren’t we?”

“You’re not failing”, he said. You felt the sudden urge to hug him, to stay next to him as you waited for time to go by. He was inviting like no one you knew, and it was almost impossible to control yourself. “Look at you, with your fancy outfit and all your books. This is not what someone who’s failing looks like.”

“Do you mind sitting on the floor with me, Daniel?”, you asked. He looked as if he was just waiting for you to ask him to do it. “I don’t think anyone is coming anyways.” 

Daniel took his time finding a place for the both of you to sit comfortably, enjoying each other’s company in the best way possible. His arm surrounded your shoulders as you sat down, every movement feeling so natural and common that neither of you seemed to question or even notice it at all. You stopped to think of a moment in your life when you felt this comfortable around someone you didn’t know, but nothing came to your head. 

“Thank you for saying that. About the books”, you clarified. “Being a writer can be really painful and lonely sometimes, and I don’t particularly enjoy being alone.”

“There is something you’re not considering”, he said, letting his head rest on your shoulder. You resisted the urge to play with his fluffy hair, committing to simply enjoying the smell of his shampoo. “Art is never a lonely concept. When you’re writing, it doesn’t matter if it’s a book or a song, you’re interacting with the world somehow, even if no one seems to notice you.”

“I don’t think someone ever noticed me, to be honest”, you explained. 

“I did, didn’t I?”, you nodded, making him laugh. “I think you’re just scared to show yourself to the world, to make sure they hear you when you scream your beautiful words about nature and how you interact with it. Everyone has a public, Y/N, you just need to find it.” 

Conscience was becoming harder and harder to achieve, his touch and warmth so inviting that you could feel yourself getting sleepy. You wondered if you could fall asleep with him, platonically, just to know what it felt like to be held by open arms and an open heart. “Do you think you’ll ever find your public in time to feel good about your art?”

“Yeah, I think so. People love music”, Daniel explained. “Sometimes, when we have the opportunity to play somewhere, we finish our set and I look at the crowd and see one face that looks satisfied with what they heard. That’s all you need, at the end of the day, to be perceived and to let yourself be perceived in a way that’s not controlled by you, but caused by something you did.”

“I think you should be a writer, Dan”, he giggled, pressing a kiss to your head. You were surprised by his gesture, but you didn’t need him to know. “Maybe you’re better at my job than I will ever be.”

“No, I think you’re the better writer. It takes strength to write a book, and even more to show up and let people react to your feelings”, he said. 

“Well, no one is reacting to it”, his body felt tighter next to yours, as if the mention of your failure made him tense. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop mentioning it.”

Daniel hugged your body tighter, like he wanted to protect you from the bookshelves. “It’s alright. I’m just sad no one else is here to enjoy it.” 

You didn’t feel the need to reply. In fact, it was probably your body giving up, making you so comfortable that it would be impossible to stay awake at that moment. You never took naps, but this time, it felt like a necessity. Daniel felt it too, your bodies and minds connected in a way that felt like home. 

When you woke up, you were both lying on the ground, legs intertwined and kind, soft hands pressed to your back. You carefully lifted your head to watch as he slept, but his body knew you were awake before his mind came back to life. It took you both time to adjust to the situation, and when Daniel realized where you were, his whole face became contorted into a panic you hadn’t seen before. 

“Fuck, Y/N, we forgot to lock the doors”, he said, his voice desperate and low at the same time. “I’m gonna check the cashier, you stay right here until I come back.” 

When Daniel came back, his face seemed a little calmer. “I guess no one came in at all”, he explained. “Don’t you just love mondays?”

‘Oh, I do, but don’t you think your boss is gonna freak out? You fell asleep during your shift, I am so terribly sorry for that”, you tried justifying yourself. 

“Don’t worry about it, it felt nice to relax after all.”

Deja vu hit you like a rock when the both of you started taking your books from the table, Daniel carefully organizing them in one of the bookshelves. You watched as he worked, muscles relaxed and a calm expression. “I think I have to go”, you explained. He stopped what he was doing to look at you. 

“Oh, okay”, his voice was high. “Look, I know this was an atypical way of meeting, but I would love to see you again sometime, if that’s fine by you.” 

You nodded, trying not to look like a teenager, so excited about a date that you could scream. “Yeah, that sounds great! Can you give me your number?”

Daniel took your phone, typing as you watched. “It was great meeting you, Y/N.”

“It felt amazing being heard, Dan.”

- - -

The familiar room now seemed filled with people. It was a Saturday, and everyone was suddenly interested in books. Your jeans were tight around your hips, and you wished you had chosen something else to wear. It didn’t take you long to find him, his hair on a ponytail and his work uniform making him look a little silly. He didn’t see you, but you saw everything about him. Especially, you saw the thing in his hand, as he talked to one of the customers. The vibrant yellow cover seemed recognizable from miles away, but now it didn’t look too bad. The customer paid attention to him as he passionately described something, not even looking at them anymore. He seemed lost inside his own world, and he looked amazing. You saw as the customer nodded and took your book from his hands, thanking him. 

You silently approached him. “I should be paying you 10% for all of your marketing work”. His whole body jumped as he heard your voice from behind him. 

“Just doing my job”, he explained. “As your number one fan.” 

You laughed at his comment, hugging him tight. His warm skin brushing against yours in a delicious way you were starting to get used to. You felt it everywhere, in your arms, your tummy, your face and your heart. “Are you ready to go?”

@doodle417​ 

[equal-shipping]

Why Kaishin Still Holds Up, Even Now.

I FINALLY watched the 23rd Detective Conan and let me tell you what...

Why are there not more episodes with these two working so closely together? Like please?! They got that solved so quickly and just shared information with one another and can I please just have them interact before the series ends pleaaaaaase.

Yet I'm not here for begging. I'm here to rant and cleverly disguise that rant as an essay.

I want to rant about trust in Detective Conan (specifically with a look at Kaishin) and the Enemies turned Rivals turned Friends turned Lovers trope.

[Mild Spoilers Ahead]

Trust as a Driving Force in Detective Conan

If someone asked me what is one of the many driving forces in the DC plot as well as the cornerstone of many of the relationships in DC it would be trust. Most of the characters in DC are living their lives with lies as the foundation of who they present themselves to be.

And here is something that I love about the relationship these two have with one another:

The trust that Shinichi has on Kid was earned and vice versa.

I don't think that Shinichi thinks that Kaito Kid is the most honest person in the world, but he does know that the magician works by a code and he trusts him to not put someone in any immediate danger despite the fact that Kaito Kid does not inherently talk too deep about his heists with him.

Ask yourself this. Where in canon did it say that in Kid's heist nobody gets hurt by Kid? I've read the manga and nowhere does he really say 'this is a safe show for everybody!' Let me tell you where it says it: Nowhere.

So why do we all assume it to be that way? Because even we have trust in our favourite thief that he won't do something to actively hurt someone. Since the story is being told in Shinichi's point of view, most of the times, we can rely on the trust that Shinichi has placed on Kid to not get anyone hurt.

One big example of this would be in the Detective Conan Movie: The Sunflowers of Inferno:

Leaving Ran in Kid's care is a conscious decision he is doing despite the fact that he doesn't know if Kid is even going to make it out. Shinichi loves Ran probably more than he loves himself and he wants her out of danger enough to place trust in someone that, situation wise, has no business whether Ran or Shinichi live or not. I honestly think that even Kid was surprised that Shinichi made that decision.

Now I'm not going to put my shipper goggles when I make this statement and go 'OH MY GOD THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH IT SHOWS IT EVERYWHERE. LOOK AT THE SHOW, STUPID."

But these two have something that not many of the characters in DC have and that is a mutual trust without knowing all the details of their lives.

Kaito happened to guess that Conan was Shinichi and I doubt that Shinichi is going to meet Kuroba Kaito by the end of the series. These two barely know each other but through their interactions just happen to understand each other enough to work together amazingly when thrust into a situation where they have to help each other out.

Which brings me to the second thing I want to talk about.

My Enemy Went From Being My Rival to My Friend to my Lover, What Happens Now?

I want to break into Gosho's house and ask him to please let Kaito Kuroba meet Shinichi Kudou. Like this is such a might need that I'm almost scared of looking forward to the ending of DC because I just have a feeling it isn't going to happen.

I might also ask him why the hell every side character needs a romance subplot but that is neither here nor there.

But now that the ships have been decided and canon has sealed the final nail on everything, I just want to talk about the trope that makes Kaishin just so amazing for me.

If I am remembering my facts right, Magic Kaito came before Detective Conan. Kaito was a realized character, somewhat, and was clearly a very likable chara with a ridiculous high IQ and a secret he couldn't reveal to anybody.

I mean he's a goddamn beautiful man is what I'm trying to say.

When I first read the series I could immediately tell that Aoko was set to be the romantic interest, Gosho really ain't fooling nobody. She seemed cute, extroverted and a girl who seems to really care for Kaito. Of course there was the juicy tidbit of Kaito being the thief her father is hunting down that also kept the relationship interesting.

So I was more than okay with having these two together.

I was already a bit aware of Detective Conan so I was all for the ShinRan as well. The pining, the secrets, the care that Shinichi has for her that transcends the organizations doing!

Also fun fact: Kaito/Aoko was the basis for Shinichi/Ran! Which is why ShinRan is thematically better than Kaito/Aoko but I will not go into that.

So one sad day during quarantine, I decided to rewatch the series to see if I could get any writing inspiration.

Now I don't know if it was quarantine or a change of heart or just me growing up but Gosho's friend trope seemed boring to me the more the episodes continued on. I AM NOT THROWING THE FRIENDSHIP TROPE DOWN, IT IS BEAUTIFUL I STILL SHIP SHINRAN

But I was tired of picking vanilla and wanted to see what else was on the menu.

And as luck would have it, I had decided to watch episode 515: Kaito Kid's Teleportation Magic and fate decides to deliver me a wonderful hit to the heart:

What is it about characters pointing guns at each other that I love so much?

And Shinichi doesn't react like a normal fucking person he just goes:

He knows this man ain't gonna shoot. They have had five interactions before this (if we are going by anime episodes) and through all those interactions Shinichi managed to get to a level of banter with this guy that he hasn't had with any of his other enemies.

If he even considered Kaito Kid an enemy to begin with.

Both Kaito and Shinichi have a mutual respect for each other's skill.

They test each other out in several situations and are pleased when the other figures it out, kinda transitioning their little chases to more of a 'two really smart guys trying to outwit each other' and less of a detective trying to outsmart a thief.

Shinichi enjoys figuring out his magic and Kaito enjoys the challenge of making some of his magic tricks near impossible to figure out. Their friendship is something really special and if they can have it without even knowing the details of each other's life, imagine how strong it would be if they truly met each other face to face.

I don't really want to cross into headcanon territory that would turn them into lovers, lord knows we have more fanfiction to do so, but it is just wonderful to see these two men both living a lie respectively but finding some solace in each other that they can shut their brains off for one second and just...play.

Hell, Kid's heists might be Shinichi's safe place. In those heists he is known as the 'Kid Killer' and not just some brat who happens to figure shit out. His opinion matters in those heists.

And not just to the police, but to Kaito as well.

BUT IM GETTING OFF TOPIC!

I just wanted to show love to this wonderful ship q wq