#i could write a dissertation about what people get wrong about Halloween

[mcbitchtits]

This doesn't feel relevant to anything except my own pet peeves, but it feels notable because it's Off— the way the Metatron misunderstands "give me coffee or give me death". It's not an offer of choice, it's a demand, a threat. (C.f. people not understanding what "trick or treat" means. It means bribe me to not egg your house.)

Like they're not *asking* for death. It's the consequences of fighting for what they do want, but losing. Which I suppose feels purposeful perhaps in the sense that Heaven doesn't understand People, really (nor Aziraphale)

[jlf23tumble]

Fic rec anon here, and I'm blanking in the moment! I know you have a lot of recs and I love them all. Maybe your favourite AUs? Broadly speaking? Seeing some of them might help jog me into more specific categories ! xx

Gotcha, sort of like my prison rec list, only I like to think of it more in terms of what would I have on my phone to read when I’m bored and traveling, lol. Obvs, this sort of list is super hard, but having it focused on AUs kinda helps? At any rate, this isn’t a deep dive, it’s just my top level, so hopefully it’ll spark you. These are in no particular order, so come back if you want more!

Tuxedo Dress-Up, by Blake (honestly, ANYTHING in this fandom by Blake, I file this one under hot and hilarious, but every line is just swooooon). Louis is an aspiring song writer by day, a makeup artist for drag queens by night, and masquerading as a full-time real estate agent for his third most famous (and first most handsome) client Harry Styles.Or, five times they fail to fuck in a closet, and one time they get it right.

Once Upon a Dream, by objectlesson (again, ANYTHING by Phoenix, and most of it is canon, but where to even start with her AUs, jesus god, I struggled to rec just one, so I went with the AU she gifted me, ilu!!!!). “M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay.” Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

knock knock, i love you, by @thelovejandles aka beautlouis (another one of my fave authors in this fandom, proof that wips DO finish, and they’re absolutely worth it). Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.

Tied Down, by @ham-palpert (the twists and turns here, my goddd, just masterful) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. The investigation yields an unexpected yet satisfactory outcome for Liam and Niall. For Harry and Louis, however, things are far more complicated.

Alien Roadtrip! by @helloamhere (needs ao3 account; I love desert roadtrips, and this captures that vibe perfectly, plus it’s hilarious). For the first time in his life, Louis doesn’t know where he’s going. Harry doesn’t mind. Or, a roadtrip with desert feelings, too much snack food, and empty motels. Harry is definitely absolutely not an alien. That would be ridiculous.

Harry Styles Cooks..., by @magicalrocketships aka sunsetsmog (aka the very best wip on earth, I weep with joy whenever I get the notif). In which Louis Tomlinson can’t cook, there’s a very special shower curtain, and Harry Styles used to be a baker. Or Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them.

just call me inspiration, by @hereforlou (in which I *am* Liam Payne, porn editor!) The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world.

Buried Like Treasure, by @becomeawendybird aka quickedween (marcel marcel marcel!!!). Prince Harry Styles is very private. He chooses to keep himself out of the public eye but feels lonely and isolated while surrounded by people in his hectic royal life. When he finishes his dissertation, he decides to take a solo holiday to one of the royal family's properties in the Swiss Alps. Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

into another serotonin overflow, by @mercutionotromeo (this story packs a LOT into a little, it helped inspire my sideblog with smaller fic recs, actually). Harry's the yearbook photographer who's been assigned to take pictures of Louis, the new captain of the football team. Harry's got a massive, obvious crush on Louis and somehow, Louis feels the same way.

Turning Page, by @daisyharry aka purpledaisy (pretty much every on-set picture I see of Harry these days just makes me tag it for this fic). “You wanna buy Harry a drink?” Louis lets his eyes drip back to Harry, to his wide eyes and the way his shoulders curve down. He really is pretty – Louis will be the first one to admit it and the last one to ever say it out loud. Louis almost smirks and his lips twitch as he tilts his head, “Not particularly, no.” An AU where Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been. Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

hush. by wankerville (this story is achingly evocative of just about every shitty small American town, but my god is it beautiful, the sweetness of how it ends). “I don't like you like that, Harry.” “See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.” Or an AU where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

Three French Hems, by @gloriaandrews and @100percentsassy (I wish I could pick just ONE of my top three from these two, but alas...do persimmons smell like come? discuss).  In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

Thought the Song Was Sung, by @gloriaandrews and @100percentsassy (see above, pretty much, and how happy I am that the tweets still show up! with Dame Julie Andrews even!!). Louis never auditioned for the X-Factor. Years later, Harry's just another gay ex-boybander who lives alone with his cat... until Niall decides to take matters into his own hands and set up a profile for Harry on a dating website.

Wild and Unruly, by @gloriaandrews and @100percentsassy (Iconic, even the abstract is iconic, everything still holds up. oh for cute, etc. etc.). Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl? by loadedgunn (another one that inspired my sideblog dedicated to short fics! So much greatness packed in, Jesus, it’s in my top five for sure). Louis reenacts his first time, and Harry wants to be his good girl.

“burn this flame” by @rainbowninja aka rainbowninja167 (anytime I reread this, I smile...filed under hot and hilarious). When Harry gets invited to play in a celebrity charity match with Louis Tomlinson, Manchester United's star player, he's determined to impress him with brilliant football skills. The only flaw in Harry's otherwise foolproof plan? He has absolutely no football skills, brilliant or otherwise.

Challenging Nature: A Look into Male Lactation, by @jaerie (hands down, one of my fave kinks, handled fantastically well...and this isn’t the author’s only one!).  Even taking into account all the bizarre things Harry has subjected himself to in the past for the sake of an article, Harry has received his strangest assignment yet. It comes up as a random misunderstanding in a meeting and builds into a conversation — can men breastfeed? Internet searches reveal documented cases of male lactation popping up at different times throughout history, but are any of them true? Can a man will himself into lactating? Harry has two months to make it happen.

like how your hands feel me up and down, by ballsdeepinjesus (this author wrote a lot of my faves back in the day, I have so many ~thoughts about the amazing writers in this particular era). “It’s -- you’re tight,” Louis chokes. “It’s tight, I mean. It’s. Yes.” His hand is curved around his hip now, squeezing lightly. “Tight’s good, right?” Harry murmurs, batting his eyelashes. He almost can’t believe himself. “Very good,” Louis grunts. Or louis works in a halloween shop and harry needs a costume.

baby look what you've done to me, by ballsdeepinjesus (see above; even the username kills me). The next day kind of turns everything upside down, though. Louis gets another lingerie catalogue addressed to Harry. He’s about to toss it when he sees a personalized note stuck to the front; it thanks Harry for his previous purchases and offers him a complimentary six-month subscription to their magazine free of charge. Or louis moves into harry's old flat. harry gets a lot of mail.

Take Our Bodies Higher, by @littlelouishiccups (I’m something of a connoisseur of the phone sex trope, so the way this author flips it and makes *Harry* the operator plus what ensues? chef’s kiss!). Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that. In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

Make a Dime Go One Hundred, by @screwstyles (I’d rec this for their jobs alone, but everything in it, just wow). “Do you think you could trust anyone enough to have full control over you?” he asks into the night, hoping his sentence won’t break their bubble. It doesn’t, if the way Harry’s eyes meet his is any indication.“What do you mean?” Harry’s voice is barely above a whisper, rough from the singing they had done earlier. Louis wants to keep this memory forever.“You know, if someone wanted to, uhm,” he coughs, “to tie you up, or blindfold you.” Or a friends to lovers AU where Harry volunteers to help Louis experiment with bondage. Things don’t go exactly to plan.

it ain't trickin' if ya got it, by sarcasticfluentry (needs ao3 account; I often stare at the wall and wonder what another installment in this universe would be, fuckkkkk, it’s so good, I only wish the social media was still in it). 28-year-old blockbuster actor Louis Tomlinson rushes home to give his 20-year-old model boyfriend Harry a good seeing-to after a particularly provocative Instagram post and, in his excitement, alerts the entire world. Featuring daddy kink, anal beads, and feelings.

If You Asked Me if I Love Him (I'd Lie), by allyasavedtheday (needs an ao3 account; it’s a sequel, but I reread it over and over vs. the first piece).  Or the one where Harry and Louis eloped but neglected to mention it to anyone. Meanwhile Lottie is getting married and the only way for them to not steal her thunder is by pretending they're just friends for the weekend. Featuring Harry and Louis as terrible liars who don't know the meaning of the word platonic and some Tomlinsons and Styleses who definitely don't believe them.

Damn, I could go on, but I’ll stop! My sideblog dedicated to short fics is @marathonficbreak, and it has some smaller ones, if this is too intimidating, lmao...hope some of them are new for you, enjoy!

[misspandalily]

update - Strangers in the Night

Thanks for the support everyone!

knottedblonde (AKA @parenthesisfanfiction​) is my blessed beta - read her story ! It’s good for your health. 

AO3 | FFN

There's a knock at the front door by the time Artemis' eyes snap open. It's sunny and bright, even with the thick drapes hanging over her windows. The light is a welcome presence for her, but the repulsive scent of blood mixed with antiseptic makes her nose scrunch up in discomfort. Her studio reeks of hospital, only less sanitary.

Artemis quickly realises that there is no way she's going to let anyone into this warzone, much less see the wings hanging off her back, carpenters on not, but then Wally's already shouting, "I'll get it!", so she decides to scramble for the bathroom instead.

Easier said than done. She forgets that she can't move as swiftly as she used to. Artemis falls to the ground in a heap just as the door opens and reveals four masked figures standing in front of her in utter disbelief. She can't see them now, of course, hair having tumbled all over her line of sight on her way down, but she's seen enough to know exactly who and what is standing on the threshold of her home: the Justice League.

The freaking Justice League is filing into her house, one by one, thanking Wally for allowing them inside like they know him. She realises with a jolt that these are the connections that he has. Not mafia, not gangsters, nor are they hitmen. They're superheroes. Wally West is on a nickname-basis with Earth's most prominent superheroes.

The Flash, she's used to – Batman, no way.

All the alarm bells are going off in her head, urging her to duck and hide, or conceal the suitcase carrying Venom in the crack beneath the floorboards while Daddy goes to answer the door. Artemis blinks. She remembers that Sportsmaster is long gone, probably off committing some heinous crime on the other side of the globe. She's safe; the League isn't a trigger warning for her anymore. Breathe, Artemis. Breathe.

Pulling her tresses away from her eyes, Artemis spots Wally walking back and forth from her fridge, accommodating the heroes with cups of the cheap orange juice she'd recently purchased for half price. They don't seem to register the obviously poor quality of the juice, nor do their noses wrinkle at the pungent scent emanating from her carpet.

All four of them: Batman, Nightwing, Hawkwoman, and the Flash, are staring at her inquisitively. She feels naked under their gazes, like they're all trying to peel off the layers of her skin, like they're trying to uncover all of her deepest, darkest secrets. Sadly, Artemis has those in surplus, most of which are highly relevant to the League – not that they know that, she hopes.

The Flash coughs pointedly, and all of a sudden Wally's gently prying her off the ground, making sure to avoid exacerbating any wounds on her arms, then helps settle her back onto her bed, this time sitting upright and facing them all.

Interestingly, Wally has a knack for alleviating awkward situations with witty repertoire and light-hearted jabs (which, honestly, freaks her out, because Batman doesn't seem to be the type who enjoys joking around), because soon Nightwing's starting to join in with Wally's conversation with the Flash.

"So," he addresses her, in an oddly familiar voice, "A little bird went nuts when he called me about your situation last night, I hope you don't mind that I've called some back-up; this isn't something that a simple renovation will fix, unfortunately." He gestures towards her wings with a gloved hand.

She gets his point, accepts the glass of juice and painkiller tablets that Wally shoves under her nose, downs them, and coughs a little. "I'll manage."

Batman's slitted eyes angle towards her. She gets the feeling that he recognises her from the few run-ins they'd had while she trained with Sportsmaster, but thankfully he doesn't comment on it. Artemis prays he doesn't remember her, because she left Gotham City to start over, and there's no telling what will happen if he opens that can of worms.

"Artemis Crock," he says, with an air of finality.

"Yes."

Hawkwoman interjects herself into the conversation. "Your wings are impressive."

"Thanks." Artemis notes the credibility of that statement.

It's not the first time Artemis has heard of Hawkwoman, but it's the first time she's seeing the woman up close and in real time. She's deeply impressed. There's a severe mask on her face, hawk-like and shimmering gold wherever the sunlight hits it. Overall, Artemis gets the feeling that Hawkwoman isn't someone she wants to mess with, seeing how there are muscles bulging out from underneath her battle-gear, and the metallic wings protruding from her shoulder blades look so sharp they can (probably) cut into diamond. Distantly, she wonders why Batman's summoning Hawkwoman - of all people - to show up in Kansas when there's so many other exciting places she can be, like Michigan, or Prague.

"Uh-"

"Safe to say you won't be at the Museum for a while, then?" The Flash interrupts her thoughts, ignoring Hawkwoman's irritated elbow-jap at his side. "Sorry. You could always pass your wings off as an elaborate costume. Early Halloween? It's still a month away." Batman shoots him a look. "Shutting up now."

She can't help but grin at the familiarity of his countenance. Everything around her is shifting and collapsing, but at least she knows that Central City's favourite hero moves at a constant speed. Flirty and flighty he may be, but Artemis finds herself unexpectedly reassured by his presence.

Deciding to angle for diplomacy, Artemis clears her throat and ignores the ache in her back. "So," her voice sounds unexpectedly hoarse when all four superheroes and Wally refocus their attention to her, "I think it's best that we address the elephant in the room. What brings four high-profile members of the Justice League to cosy Kansas?" And how? Artemis hadn't known that so many big-gun heroes could be so receptive to a civilian scientist. Clearly, Wally has much more influence than she's aware.

Batman, forgoing all formalities, wastes no time being as transparent and simultaneously vague as possible. "The League is interested in the necklace that your team excavated in Greece months ago, Miss Crock. We have reason to believe that it possesses magical properties - dangerous properties, should it be placed in the wrong hands - and as it stands, we know almost nothing else about it, save for what's right in front of us." He lets the implication of his words sink in.

"We're here to offer you a deal, or a partnership." Batman's tone softens slightly, yet still retaining the hard edge that she's come to associate with Gotham's Dark Night. "You've spent years of your life writing a dissertation on the influence of power on Greco-Roman art and scouring the globe for the very same information that the League is now looking for. Should you choose to help us, we can offer you rehabilitation, and protection."

She fidgets on her bed slightly, somewhat disconcerted by the onslaught of information. Judging by the nonplussed expressions of everyone else in the room, Batman's extensive periods of silence, peppered with outbursts of cold, hard facts, seem to be a 'thing'. She isn't sure if she finds that funny or not.

"Look," Artemis says after a brief pause, "I'm going to pretend that I'm not creeped out by how much you know about me." She really isn't, though. Anyone who knows anything in Gotham City knows that the Batman and his gang of Bat-children are the world's pantheon of detectives. "And I can help you, free of any charge. There's no reason why you should go out of your way to protect me when I'm hardly a target."

Because by now, Artemis knows well enough to steer clear of any unnecessary affiliations with the Justice League, lest any questionable family members manage to track her down and make her life a living Hell. Still, she's relieved to know that Batman is here for the knowledge that she's been researching for close to a decade, and not to arrest and accost her for her underground connections.

And then she sees the slight wince from the more expressive faction of her audience - namely the Flash - and looks at them curiously. "Unless, there's something else you need to tell me."

It becomes startlingly clear that Batman is the go-to man for the deliverance of bad news, because he immediately resumes his speech. "The Justice League isn't the only party that wants you, Miss Crock." He presses a button on his suit's wrist and shows her a holographic screen of the three specific words she'd been hoping to avoid for longer. "I assume you're familiar with the League of Shadows?"

There's a trickle of dread flowing down from the nape of her neck to the bottom of her spine, a feeling Artemis hasn't had creep up on her for years. "Yes," she replies, feeling her throat clamp up, "I am."

He's the only one who looks at her knowingly, and she suspects that her family isn't as underground as she would prefer anymore. Everyone else in the room seems to look scandalised, or shocked, or both. "So," Batman says with an air of finality, though the slits in his mask seem to vaguely express something more sympathetic. "Do we have a deal?"

Wally watches Batman's black cloak disappear behind Artemis' door with a sombre feeling in the pit of his stomach. Which is saying something, given that his stomach is widely considered to be bottomless.

Artemis is still upright on her bed as he turns around and realises one thing: he has no idea how to explain this entire situation to her. His connection to the League, the fact that as a civillian (to her), he really shouldn't be as aware of their operations as he should've been. But then again, the fact that Artemis had barely blinked an eyelash when Batman brought up the League of Shadows, or that Batman hadn't even needed to elaborate on their operations to her, was the one thing that hadn't stopped bugging him since she made a deal to join the League.

Join, in the unofficial, ward-of-the-Justice-League, sense. Not as a superhero.

Unless she wanted to be one.

He stares at the gigantic brown spot covering the majority of Artemis' carpet, yet to be cleansed or removed. It'll be problematic if someone unwittingly visits Artemis' studio and sees the portal to Hell emblazoned onto the floors. The cops might get involved, and thereby the media - he really doesn't want Aunt Iris to find out about Artemis' wings via the Police, and before he has a chance to explain the situation to her. Wally's hand runs down the length of his face.

And what was the League of Shadows' deal with Artemis anyway?

They'd all been debriefed about their task before they left for Central City: the Museum was holding an exhibition unveiling an artefact that the Flash had recovered, and their job was to protect it from harm. The curator was the second priority when they started, but now Wally's beginning to realise that Batman and Nightwing are being annoyingly unclear about their motives again - obviously Artemis Crock is a lot more than she lets on, and so far only they're the ones who really seem to know her. Her and her affiliation with the Shadows, the world's deadliest group of assassins.

He watches the wings protruding from her back move to the rhythm of her chest, fluttering lightly when she fidgets. It's then that he also realises that Artemis is fixing him a stare more scrutinising than Batman's trademark.

She opens her mouth and slams it shut a second later, as though she's deciding against something. Wally dearly hopes, on Einstein's grave, that she'll let go of whatever thought is clearly making her more upset by the second. He has literally been awake for twenty-eight hours without a sizeable amount of food in the past six, and so genuinely cannot handle an argument at this point in time.

"You-" she pauses and takes a deep breath as he tenses, "Who are you?"

"I'm Wally," he replies slowly. "Wally West? Do you have a concussion?" Wally reaches for her head. Artemis slaps his hand away.

"I mean, you're one of the hundreds of scientists who work at STAR Labs. How do you even know the Justice League?"

"The same way you do," he shoots back, mentally slapping himself, "I'm a big fan."

Artemis breathes out through her nostrils. "Big fans normally aren't on a nickname-basis with Batman," her eyes narrow at him, "Are you a spy?"

"I'm not a spy."

"Then how about you tell me how you happen to be able to call Earth's Mightiest Heroes over to Kansas - overnight?" He knows what her predicament is, what it looks like. In all honesty he wouldn't trust someone from highschool (who isn't Dick Grayson) who invites some of the biggest superheroes in the world to respond a small distress signal, either. Artemis' expression becomes stonier the longer he stays silent. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Hey - you're not exactly Little Miss Transparent either!" His foot flies into his mouth before he can catch it, and Artemis is already starting to glare at him, so Wally decides to Hell with it and runs ahead. "You didn't even blink when the Shadows came up! How do you know about them?"

"What I know is none of your business."

His jaw clenches at the hypocrisy. "Well, you don't see me launching the Spanish Inquisition against you - why should I tell you about the League?"

"Because you're living in my apartment, genius," she's standing up on her bed and glowering down at him like she really, really wants to punch him. "Which, by the way, I never wanted!" He blinks exactly once from the gust of wind that rushes through the studio and feels his expression harden into a glare.

"Fine," his voice doesn't come out as shaky as he feels internally, which he's thankful for. "But I was never here for you - I'm here for Iris."

Despite the bluntless of his words, the name seems to trigger a calming response in Artemis. Her eyes begin to look considerably less crazed, she exhales deeply, and her wings start to fold in. She's silent for a good few minutes, during which time Wally's anger ebbs away in small waves - enough to dissipate the uncomfortable feeling scratching its way up his chest but not enough to stop his face from burning. "Fine."

"Get some sleep," he walks over to the window that isn't next to her bed and throws it open. Its frame slams against the wall noisily, which neither of them bother commenting on. "I'm grabbing more bandages."

And going out for air. Wally shrugs on a coat and closes the door behind him - carefully, this time - before activating the alarm system he knows Nightwing installed just before the League were officially introduced into Artemis' studio. He isn't angry at her, per se. Just incredibly frustrated. He doesn't recall her being as confrontational in high school, and quickly amends that thought when he distinctly remembers her never talking to him for a decade.

And in any case, he'll be seeing her more frequently than she'd like for a while now - as Kid Flash, and not Wally West. The image of her connecting the dots and realising that she's been living with Kid Flash does not bode well in his stomach, which is obnoxiously grumbling by now. Wally passes a hotdog vendor and retracts his footsteps.

At the very least, before he stresses out over Artemis for another few weeks, he'll eat his weight in sausage.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com (Keanu x OFC) 3/?

Author’s notes: once again, thank you for the feedback on previous chapters. Onto chapter 3.

Wordcount: 2845

Warnings: fluff and oblivious idiots.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 4   Part 5

Lilah bit her thumb as she stared at her phone until Keanu’s name and message on the screen became blurry. She should be reviewing her paper so she could send it to her advisor. Instead, here she was, ignoring her laptop in favor of rereading his text for the tenth time:

I’m glad you like it and I want to know what you thought of it. Coffee today? I’ll be done at five. K.

Lilah didn’t know why she was getting so caught up on it. What else she expected after letting him know she finished reading his book? After all, Keanu had said he would like to get some coffee and talk about it when she was done with it.

And Lilah wanted to do it; she wanted to talk books with him. She wanted to talk about anything with him because he was so nice and cool and funny. But also, he was freaking Keanu Reeves. She was brought back from her musings by a hand snatching her cellphone away before Jean plopped on the chair in front of her.

“You’ve been staring at your phone for the last five minutes,” she said, glancing at the screen, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Ha! I knew he wanted in your pants!”

“One: don’t be crass,” Lilah complained, taking her phone back. “Two: it’s not like that. It’s just coffee.”

Lilah could see that Jean was about to argue, as usual. So, she just sent the other woman a warning look, because this wasn’t up to debate. If Lilah accepted his invitation, she couldn’t think of it as a date.

For one, she was in her final year of grad school. There was a lot at stake and Lilah couldn’t afford distractions. Not even one as amazing as Keanu Reeves. And besides, it would be crazy to think he was even interested. Not that Lilah thought she wasn’t hopeless or anything like that. She did pretty well dating-wise.

She was just being realistic. Keanu probably had people throwing themselves at him all the time and she sure as hell wasn’t going to be one of those people. Despite her stupid no-filter mouth best attempts of making it look otherwise.

“Ok, but you’re gonna go, right? For “just coffee”?” Jean asked, eyebrows raised and Lilah could actually hear the air quotes over the words just coffee.

“Yeah,” Lilah agreed, unlocking her phone screen and typing a quick reply. Her heart did a small acrobatic flip in her chest as she hit send. “There. Done.”

Jean’s face opened into a satisfied, victorious smirk and Lilah couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Lilah asked, setting her phone aside and closing her laptop lid. Because who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to get any work done before heading to class. Might as well stop pretending.

“Can’t I just drop by and say hi to my favorite person?” Jean’s smile was wide and bright and so innocent. Lilah didn’t buy it for a second.

“Alright, spill. What do you want?” Lilah asked with an eye-roll.

“Ok,” Jean started with a sigh. “Novelsy isn’t doing all that well financially and if I don’t find a way to attract more customers, I’m gonna have to close doors by the end of the year.”

“Shit!”

Worry settled on the pit of her stomach like lead, because Lilah loved Novelsy. The bookstore was initially owned by Jean’s aunt, but once the older woman passed away, Jean took over, much to her parents’ horror, since they expected her to handle the multimillion family business.

Lilah knew Novelsy started as a way of Jean rebelling against her parents, but it became her pride and dream. The last thing Lilah wanted was to see it closed, but at the same time, Lilah could only imagine how hard must it be for a small place like this to compete with chain stores and internet commerce.

“Any ideas that don’t involve me begging my parents for money?” Jean asked.

“We could start building the store’s media presence? Like a blog, social media, that sort of thing?” Lilah suggested with a shrug. “You’re the one with an MBA.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” Jean drummed her nails on the wooden surface of the table. “I guess I can dust off my camera, working on a few pictures, but we’re gonna need some quality content to go along with them…”

“Ah. Ambush,” Lilah joked, narrowing her eyes at Jean, who just gave her a sheepish smile. “You already considered all that and you’re just buttering me up to ask me to write for it, right?”

“Well, you are always going on and on about everything you read and watch. I just thought…” Jean shrugged, before giving Lilah a look that could only be considered puppy dog eyes. “I know you have a lot of stuff going on, but could you? Please? Just like a weekly thing would be enough.”

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed with an indulgent smile. It wasn’t like she would ever be able to deny Jean anything. “Just give some deadlines so I can fit it in my schedule.”

“Perfect! Thank you!” Jean declared, throwing her arms around Lilah for an awkward hug over the table. “You’re the best, Lih.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes and started to pack her things. “You still need some short term action, you know? Because social media takes time to build.”

“I know and I decided to get some stage so we could have some bands and poetry soirées, you know, all that artsy crap.” Lilah laughed at Jean’s eye-roll, but couldn’t deny it was a good idea.

“Plus, Halloween is coming. You could host a costume contest,” she suggested standing up and shouldering her satchel bag.

“You’re just looking for an excuse to dress up,” Jean teased with a smile. She wasn’t exactly wrong on that assessment.

“Ok. Gotta go! Bye, hon!” She pressed a quick peck on Jean’s cheek.

“One last thing,” Jean called before Lilah moved too far. “You should totally wear that cute green tartan print dress for your date!”

Lilah just rolled her eyes at Jean’s smirking face and took off, because sometimes, arguing with Jean was the most pointless thing.

She stopped by their apartment above the bookstore long enough to put away the stuff she wouldn’t need for class. And after another moment of deliberation, she exchanged her jeans and t-shirt for the dress, pairing it with dark leggings, a black cardigan, and her favorite scarf. Just because it wasn’t a date, didn’t mean Lilah couldn’t look nice.  

She grabbed her bag, Keanu’s book and after a moment of deliberation, Lilah reached on her bookshelf and picked up one of her books. He had lent her one of his. It would be only fair to return the favor, right?

Lilah put on her headphones and hurried off since and she was already dangerously close to missing her train. Fortunately, the subway station was only a couple of blocks away from Novelsy and Lilah always enjoyed the walk. It gave her a chance of enjoying the city had fallen in love with and had been calling home for the last six years.

It had been the best decision of her life to move away from Florida for grad school. Not only it gave Lilah the freedom of being her own person away from her family, but there was also just something magical about New York that she hadn’t found anywhere else. Then again, Lilah barely ever traveled. She had lived most of her life in Florida and could barely remember her home country anymore.

It was one of the things Lilah wanted the most for her life. To travel the world, visit all the places books and movies had shown her. She always wondered what would be like to work with something that could take you all over the world. It must really be amazing.

After teaching her class, Lilah headed to the psychology Ph.D. offices to concentrate on her paper instead of daydreaming about traveling the world or her not-a-date with Keanu. She managed to do all the alterations her advisor suggested and added a new analysis based on an article she read last week, before sending it to her.

Once she finally left NYU, Lilah fidgeted all the way to Central Park, unable to suppress her nerves, even if she kept mentally chanting to herself that this wasn’t a date. When Lilah stepped out the station and found Keanu was waiting for her on the sidewalk, her heart felt like it was trying to bust out of her chest

He looked so handsome in jeans, a grey tee with a motorcycle company logo and a dark leather jacket. He was holding two cups in a carry tray and waving her over with the other. So as Lilah crossed the street, she willed her heart to slow down, because she could barely breathe as she walked up to him.

“Hi!” he greeted her with a bright smile. “I’m glad you could make it in such short notice.”

“It’s fine. My night was free,” Lilah replied, smiling too. It was technically true, but she was supposed to be writing her dissertation.

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so I just got it black and brought everything else aside,” Keanu said, handing her one of the cups before pulled out from his pocket packs of sugar, sweetener, and cream.

That was so thoughtful of him that Lilah couldn’t bring herself to admit that she didn’t drink American coffee. Not even Novelsy. Instead, she took one of the cups and dumped cream and sugar in it and took a sip.

“Thank you,” she said covering her grimace, by turning to the park. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” Keanu nodded as they started on the path. “So, tell me your thoughts on the book.”

As they walked, Lilah told him about how she felt with Neruda’s poetry, a big grin playing on her lips. She always thought fall was the best season to take a walk in Central Park. The foliage had faded from their usual green in warm hues of orange, red and purple, making them look straight out of a painting. And under the late afternoon sun, everything sort of had a soft yellowish glow, as if they had been set on fire.

As she spoke, Lilah kept sneaking a few glances at Keanu, always finding him watching her with a thoughtful expression that quickly shifted into a smile whenever he caught her looking.

When they reached the fountain, Keanu led them away from the rest of the visitors and tourists snapping pictures. Lilah wondered if he noticed a few of them snapping photos of him. Fortunately, no one came over to bother them. She wouldn’t know how to react if they had.

Keanu stopped by this huge oak tree and handed Lilah his cup so he could spread his jacket on the ground, before plopping on it and gesturing her to take a seat. She chuckled and followed, handing back the wrong cup.

“You barely touched it,��� he pointed out with an arched eyebrow, looking more amused than offended. “You could’ve just told me you didn’t like coffee.”

“I like coffee,” she replied with a sheepish smile. “But that’s not coffee, that American chafé.”

“Sorry, what?” he asked with a confused frown.

“Chafé,” Lilah repeated chuckling at how adorable he looked mouthing out the word. “It just means it watered down and it tastes more like tea than actual coffee.”

“Ahhh, so you’re a coffee snob,” Keanu teased, making Lilah laugh.

“No!” she shoved him playfully on the shoulder, feeling solid muscle under her hand. “Just used to it been brewed differently. My father always says that there are two things you should never argue about with Latinos: telenovela and coffee.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Keanu chuckled, leaning back on his elbows.

“Seriously, I’ll brew it for you sometime and you’ll see.”

The offer escaped her lips before she could even register it and Lilah wanted to kick herself. Why couldn’t she actually pay attention to what she was saying?

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said with a small smile as he watched her. “And I thought I caught a hint of an accent.”

“Really?” she smiled wide at him. “You got a great ear. Most people don’t notice. I’ve moved here when I was three. My stepdad’s American.”

Lilah told him a little bit about her family, mostly just silly stories of her brother, which he reciprocated with stories about his sisters. It was nice and comfortable and time seemed to fly by. Every once in a while, Lilah caught herself staring at him, admiring how the setting sun behind Keanu gave him an almost supernatural glow or how his smile lit up his face and his brown eyes danced with mirth as he recalled some of his teenage shenanigans.

“What?” he asked, bumping his foot again hers.

“Nothing,” Lilah replied with a small smile, lowering her eyes.  

Keanu bumped his foot against hers again and she sneaked a glance his way with a frown, wondering if that was an accident. But then he did it again. And again. Was he playing footsie? She gave him a soft kick in retaliation and Keanu grinned, trapping her foot between his ankles. Lilah laughed, shaking her head.

“You’re such a dork, oh my God!” she commented with a grin, and he chuckled.

“Got you to smile, did I?” he replied with a grin of his own and once again Lilah’s chest felt like was about to burst like several butterflies were trapped inside and trying to scape.

They stayed like that talking and laughing together until the sun set completely and the temperature dropped. Lilah kept rubbing her hands together to keep them warm since she had forgotten her gloves. It helped some, but there wasn’t much she could do about her legs. Her leggings were a flimsy barrier against the cold.

“Do you want to take off?” Keanu offered as he sat up, rubbing his hands together and covering hers, offering his own warmth.

Lilah realized how big his hands were compared to hers. As a matter of fact, Keanu was a very big guy. Not only he was tall, but his broad shoulders and strong frame made him look kind of imposing, but in a good way. She realized he could probably pick her up on his arms very easily and that made her swallow hard and her breath pick up speed.

“No, it’s fine,” Lilah managed to reply after a moment.

She wasn’t ready for this thing to be over just yet, but a gush of wind blew past them again and she couldn’t suppress a shudder, earning a knowing look from Keanu.

“Ok, yes.”

Keanu helped her up and they started to make their way back. Moving usually helped to warm her up a little, but they were walking against the wind and Lilah was shivering.

“Do you want my jacket?” Keanu asked when he noticed.

“Won’t you be cold?” Lilah wondered and Keanu snorted, already unzipping it.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He held it up so she could put it on.

“Thanks,” she replied, pulling it closer around herself since it was still warm from his body. And if she sneaked a few sniffs at the collar, no one needed to know.

Keanu walked her all the way to the subway station where he had been waiting for her. Lilah handed the jacket back to him and watched as he shrugged on.

“I had fun,” he said with a smile. “I’ve been so focused on this movie, hadn’t been able to go out and just talked about anything except work, so thank you.”

“I know the feeling.” Lilah smiled too and pulled out from her bag his book along with her copy of Life as it is and handing both to him.

“You lent me one, so I thought…” she explained when Keanu gave her a confused look.

“What is it about?” he asked, checking out the blurb on the back cover.

“It’s a collection of short stories, written in the fifties. Rodrigues was really acidic and insightful so they’re really fun,” she said. “If you want to give it a go... we could hang out again and talk about it?” Lilah offered hesitantly.

“Sure,” Keanu replied with a frown and Lilah winced. Did she push too far?

“We don’t have to…” she hurried to say. A second ago Keanu was all smiles and now he almost looked disappointed.

“No, I want to,” he said. “Really.”

“Ok then,” she replied sighing. It wasn’t like she could just grab the book from his hand and run away. “So, give me a call when you’re done?”

“I will. Goodnight.”

After a moment of hesitation, Lilah nodded and headed home, wondering all the way what just happened.

tbc

Go to Part 4

Taglist (give me a shout if you want to added or if you want to be removed)

@poisonedjoinery @ringa-starr @curly-minnie @i-cant-remember-my-old-login

@caryled @beyond-antares @kathorax @krazycags01 @meetmeinthematinee

@red-pill-blue-pill @baphometwolf666 @soarocks @imagine-the-fanfics @moonlit-raven-haven @cumberbatchbaps @coolbreezeinkeanureeves