#i drew this on v-day night and into midnight earlier so it's a half v-day pic ;)

[britishchick09]

rewrite eristine's kiss- a lovely story in three lovely parts ♥♥

[utterlyinevitable]

Hey would you be able to write a follow on fic from your hurricane series where Mc gives in and gives Ethan a lap dance infront of her friends? ☺️

Hurricane (Part 6): Alternate Scene

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: M to be safe Warning: lap dance and alcohol and lewd thoughts (kinda)  Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

a/n: For @panda9584 💞

_____________________

As the day went on, the trio of residents progressively got more and more inebriated by the hour. Sienna ended up running around the couch as many times as she could in 15 seconds, Elijah was dared to make a cocktail with his eyes closed, and Becca refused to do a dare.

Becca picked a card for her turn.

“Dare.” She announced, a sweat breaking on her forehead in anticipation.

Sienna let out a drunk giggle. “I dare you to go give Ethan a lap dance.”

Ethan’s head perked out of his book at his name in conjunction with the word “lap dance”;

“What are you doing?”

“Truth or Dare,” Sienna informed through her giggle. “Ethan, come play!”

The man pushing forty was quick to repudiate, “Absolutely not. I’m not a child.”

“Suit yourself, fun police.”  

“Go play, son. I’m going to make some calls.” Naveen chuckled with a wink. He had spent the whole day watching his residents’ charades, now it was time to go to work and let them enjoy the rare time together. Naveen also hoped his departure would give Ethan the space to lighten up.

Taking the hint his oldest friend so graciously smacked him with, Ethan stood and moved to sit closer to the group of friends.  

“I’m not playing,” he huffed as he perched on the cold cushion closest to Becca.

Everyone ignored him.

Elijah brought back the attention to Becca, “Dance or chug, Bec?”

She briefly glanced over her shoulder at Ethan. His features were his signature stoic, yet she could see the glimmer of playfulness hiding within the depths of his irises.

Turning back to her friends, she took a long, dramatic breath. Eventually she proclaimed, “Oh, fuck it!”

Ethan’s eyes went wide and he instinctively leaned back into the cushions. As swiftly as possible, he mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen, what her friends were about to witness. He told himself he had to keep his hands put. Now was not the time to get excited. But, man, he can’t wait to have her so close. The thought itself had his eyes shutting with pleasure. Ethan unfolded his hands from where they hung in the space between his legs and gingerly placed his palms against the paisley cushion.  

She eyed her friends, a look Ethan couldn’t see but could feel - the icy daggers soaring their way. 

Then she stood, turned towards him with the most impassive of expressions. He couldn’t read her mind nor her features in the dim fireside lighting. Somehow her uncertainty had his leg jittering with wanton anticipation. 

A tight smirk rested on Ethan’s lips, so smug and only for her. He was challenging her. And Becca was determined to prove champion.

In the background Sienna and Elijah were huddled over the former’s phone. “No - that one. It has to be.” 

A second later Pony started to play.

Becca freed her hair, letting the chestnut locks cascade down her shoulders. Running a hand to mess it up more - unwittingly making sure the signature scent of her shampoo reached his nostrils even from this distance. 

Standing in front of him she started to sway her hips to the music. One step, and she’s closer. Another, and her legs are an inch from his. Third step, and she’s within reach, looming over him and his heart is starting to race. He knows there’s at least two other people in this room, but he doesn’t care. The room isn’t lit all that well and anyway all he can see - all he can feel surrounding him and gripping at his being - is her. She doesn’t need to touch him to have him unraveling. 

Another half step and Becca’s nudging his legs open with her knee to stand perfectly in between them. She’s still dancing - swaying, rather - in small, reserved motions. Ethan’s midnight eyes are on her intently - roving from her face, to her hips, trailing back up to her hands that he knows can cause so much damage with one simple touch. He’s watching her hands roam her torso and she moves so close - till her legs are pressed firmly against the sofa. Her fingers playing with the hem of her top, giving him just the slightest of glimpses at the pale skin beneath before its gone all too soon.  

Ethan swallows past the lump in his throat. 

The music picks up. So she did as well; throwing one leg over his, her knees resting on the couch. Becca was hovering over his lap now and Ethan could smell the perfume she wears as she dips with the music, her inner hips all but meeting his thigh. Oh how he wished it did. She’s not touching him and it’s killing him -- Becca hasn’t said a word to him since earlier, either. Now here she was, in one of the places she would tell him she loves most, ignoring the pull of inevitability between them. 

Her knee so close to his hand he dared to creep closer - dared to break the cardinal rule of things like this. His thumb and forefinger brushing at the fabric at her knee. 

Becca hadn’t looked him in the eyes since the challenge began. Purposefully, he’s sure. His eyes followed her hands as they drew nonsensical patterns, hooded in embarrassment. For a fraction his mind jumps to the strokes of the last work of art she mapped on the canvas of his back. 

He felt his jeans become uncomfortably tight. 

She dipped her hips again like she knows what lays beneath - the sweet bit of torture she could inflict by just grazing his lap. Her torso rolling forwards with the movement, and now he can smell the peony and apple soap she uses. Her eyes are closed and she’s just moving - moving and keeping her distance. 

And if there was a single saint in hell Ethan begins to call on them all. How long left? Not long enough, that’s for sure. 

Ethan dared some more, unwritten rules be damned. His hand gingerly trailed up the back of her calf, around to the front of her knee and up her thigh. Stopping just before reaching her hip as she rolled into the three inches of space between their laps. He took a risk. And if she didn’t like it she didn’t give any inclination but a turn of her head. He could see the faint love bite he left last night at the base of her neck - so faint no one but the two of them would know it’s a bruise of passion.  

Both her knees found their way to the cushion and now Becca was fully on top of him. So many times she’s been like this. It took everything in Ethan not to lift her into his arms and carry her upstairs that second. It also took a lot of self control not to audibly groan - her friends didn’t need to bear witness to his primitive side. 

The strength she used to keep herself upright dwindled away with the new closeness. One hand on his chest, the other digging into the top of the cushion behind his back, his hands still anchored on her thighs. Ethan could hear the lowering beats of the music over the thumping in his ears. Could feel her labored breaths passing across his cheeks. 

His thumbs began rubbing circles at her hips. Becca moves back - as upright as she can get. Her hand running through her hair and over her face and Ethan just wants her to look at him. So he doesn’t what you aren’t supposed to do - he trails a hand up her body and cups her cheek. The electricity between them vibrates. Ignites into flames when her entire being leans into him. Runs rampant as his fingers tangle in her hair. His eyes close as Ethan pulls her to him, lips parted and intent on satiating this spurring in his abdomen. 

And just when they should have collided his eyes dart open. Becca’s gone. Not within reach anymore. He chances a glance to where her friends must still be loitering. 

They’re there. Like they haven’t moved.

So is Becca.  

The only move she made was lifting the glass to her lips. And it dawns on him...

Becca chose to chug.

It was all just a daydream of a rakish man. 

And Ethan couldn’t believe he was more disappointed than relieved.

_______________________

a/n: potentially garbage? yeah. sensuality isn't my strong suit, i prefer making people’s hearts hurt 😅

@openheartfanfics  @choicesficwriterscreations

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[brittledame]

Pairing: Semi Eita/Reader 

Tags: Teen and up audience, Post-timeskip, Canon divergence, Coffee Shops, Meet-cute, Fluff, Musician Semi, University student reader, POV changes

Word Count: 6.6K

Summary: In which a broken coffee machine leads you to meet an attractive musician also inhabiting the only coffee shop near campus open at an ungodly hour. The lack of sleep and the stress of your assignment are eased by the nonsensical tunes the unknown musician struggles to compose a significant song. Unknowingly, you both indirectly help each other through mental roadblocks and inspire him to write a hit song. It wasn't until your next fateful meeting that you were able to thank each other.

Current situation aside, you were usually a diligent student. You preferred to finish an assignment at least a full 24 hours before editing and submitting it, rather than leaving it to the last minute and handing in a half-assed attempt. However, this one particular assignment that had crawled from the bowels of hell was the exception to your characteristic conscientiousness. The assignment had blindsided you, slipping under your radar as other more pressing assignments drew your attention away from it. Much like an ignored weed problem, under your wilful neglect it compiled into an unimaginable mess. There was no possible way for you to get this done without pulling a soul-sucking all-nighter.

Another exception to your quickly spiralling out-of-control life was the fact that your prized coffee marker in all its shiny black plastic glory after five long years has finally turned in its resignation of being used and abused by you. So not only were you frantically rushing this twenty-one-page report due in not even eight hours, your one source of liquid determination is completely off the books.

Standing before the hunk of useless machinery refusing to even turn on, you stood there in silence as you mourned the loss of a good friend and an alright cup of coffee every morning. This did not help your current situation and you knew that you would not make it without some form of caffeine and you refuse to take the final dive into the uni student life and take no-doze tablets.

No, you refuse go that low just yet.

Although they are starting to sound tempting as the harsh wind tugs at your clothing and nips at your skin like you weren’t wearing two layers in the middle of normally warm Spring night to make a trip to the only local coffee shop you knew of open at this ungodly hour of 2 am. A faint orange glow grows steadily larger with each hurried step. You rushed to both get out of the wind and continue the futile act of completing your assignment to a decent enough standard to pass the subject.

The high expectations you entered the semester with had all but been eviscerated at this point. You would be outrageously thankful to pass at this stage in the semester.

As you push through the door, you crush the unwanted thought of your academic score plummeting. Oh well. Que sera, sera.

Glancing around the small and dimly lit establishment, you were surprised to note that it wasn’t deserted. In total, there were three people inside, excluding yourself. Two being workers and the other being a figure sequestered to the distant corner of the small cosy shop.

Behind the counter sat a bored-looking barista scrolling on his phone and a person with a very familiar face wiping down the benches.

“Jin! I didn’t expect to see you at this hour.” You exclaim while walking up to the counter while simultaneously fishing out your purse from your bag.

Said brunette turned at your voice, smiling when he sees that his ears didn’t deceive them.

“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you right now, either.” He grins amiably.

You had to give it to him, even at 2 am, his friendly smile put your stressed heart at ease. That was the true power of one Jin Soekawa, asides from the heavenly caffeinated ambrosia he concocted.

“Yeah, well if my coffee machine didn’t abandon me in my darkest hour, believe me when I say I’d be at home in my pajamas.”

Jin laughs as he rings your total up without question and starts the process of making your usual order. A perk of visiting at least three times a week was getting to know the friendly day baristas. Placing the exact amount of change on the counter, you move down the counter to catch Jin’s words.

“I never took you for a night-owl.” You scoff and shake you head at him, noting the teasing glint in his dark eyes.

“I’m not,” you bemoan, “this is punishment for putting off a big assessment and thinking it wouldn’t take long to finish. And to top it all off, my main source of night-late fuel ditched me.”

Jin nods sympathetically at your whining, not wanting to disturb the other regular shop patron in his also stressed-fueled all-nighter.

“No one with sense would be up at this hour working.” The angry-looking brunette you’ve never seen before mutters loudly.

Jin looks at the male, thick eyebrows furrowed reproachfully. You raise your eyebrow at Jin, wondering if he always had to burn the midnight oil with someone that looked like they were ready to quit and walk out at any second.

“Don’t mind Yunohama, he’s just pissed that he got tricked into the graveyard shift by the manager along with me.”

His cheery tone contrasted greatly to the gloom surrounding Yunohama. Smothering the laugh that wanted to come out at their polar opposite personalities, you instead turn to cough quietly into your hand.

Your gaze locked with chocolate brown irises that even at this distance, you could tell were mesmerising. The male’s eyes widen as he realises he was caught staring at you and quickly turns away and busies himself with the papers littering the table.

Well that was odd.

You stared at the back of his head full of shoulder-length ash-blond hair, waiting for him to turn back around. After a beat, you shrug to yourself and turn back to a busy Jin.

“Do you mind if I grab a seat and start on my work?” You point a thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the seating area.

Jin nods his head and gives a cheery smile that didn’t fit the sleepy night-time atmosphere.

“Sure! I’ll bring it over when it’s done. It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

Shooting him a thumbs up, you hike the bag strap further up your shoulder and select a table to slowly lose your mind at. You end up choosing one that was about three tables away from the stranger, not wanting to intrude upon his stressed-out vibes. From the short glimpse you caught of his face, he seemed quite attractive. If you weren’t as tired or stressed as you currently were, you might have had the guts to sit closer and sneak subtle glances, but the sword of Damocles currently swung menacingly above your head.

As you walk over, you notice a dark blue Ashton-branded acoustic guitar leaning against the chair on his lap. You also notice him frantically scribbling down on paper, pausing and then staring at the paper like it insulted him. You file this in the back of your mind, saving it for a later time.

You almost felt sorry for the odd guy. If it weren’t for the burden of your laptop holding an unfinished assignment due in exactly seven hours now, you would spare some sympathy. Sighing, you plop yourself in the seat and quietly go about setting yourself up. Logging into your laptop, the not even half-filled word document met your weary gaze. God, even with the smell of coffee and warmth surrounding you, no motivation welled up like you hoped it would. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for a long night-slash-morning.

Focused on your work, you failed to notice Jin coming over with your order, sitting it out of the way of your work with a quiet “good luck” . The cup of hot coffee was left forgotten as a decent-sounding ideas flashed through your mind unprompted. It was safe to say that by the time you did notice and started drinking it, it was lukewarm.

Grimacing after taking the first sip, you lean back in your chair and look at the ceiling to give your eyes a break. A soothing tune of random string plucking fills the air. For a brief second, you were confused as to when background music started playing, only to realise it was coming from the hot guy you caught staring at you earlier.

Attracting your attention, you glance over to his table. The guitar was now propped against his lap and lovingly cradled in his arms. The position accentuated his biceps partially concealed by white cotton V-neck tee, not that it stopped your appreciative looks. Fluorescent pink guitar pick in hand, the ash-blond musician continues to strum a few nonsensical tunes that your stress-filled mind failed to name.

As if remembering your existence, he whips his head around to meet your interested gaze. Flustered at finding you already staring at him, the male holds his hands out in a placating gesture.

“I’m so sorry! I should have asked if you were okay with me playing. I mean the baristas said it was okay but that was before you came in…” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head.

Giving him a friendly smile, you shake your head.

“No, don't apologise. It’s fine.” You assure him. Immediately, the tension drains from his features. Man, the poor guy must have dealt with his fair share of assholes to respond so visibly at the prospect of pissing people off by playing out loud. That had to suck.

“Besides, who am I to deny the arts?” You continue, lazily waving your hand in the air.

He laughs at your unusual response, hands settling back into their designated positions on the instrument. The sound was completely unexpected. You sat there in shock as the rich-sounding rumble rolls through the air. Sure he was good-looking but damn, to have a nice deep voice on top of all that? He was truly blessed. To top it off, he gives you a smile that should be outlawed for how attractive he is.

Damn, awkward music guy was hot.

The belated thought had you flustered. Hiding behind your hand as you brush back hair out of the way, you recompose yourself. Meeting his gaze once again, you notice a twinkle that you didn’t spot before, confirming your initial suspicion of his eyes being mesmerising.

Blinking yourself out of the stupor, you inwardly scold yourself for staring at the poor dude that didn’t come here to get stared at by someone dressed in comfy clothes and a whole collection of lilac bags under their eyes.

Ignoring the questioning look you receive at your odd facial expression you unintentionally made, you turn back to your laptop and dive head-first into the report. It was a nice escape from the embarrassment that wanted to choke you at acting like you’ve never seen an attractive person before.

God your tired self was an embarrassment.

He continues on playing the guitar, now strumming out a soft lingering song that soothed your frazzled mind and weirdly energised you to keep going.

From the very moment that you stepped across the threshold, bringing with you a wisp of chilled air that nipped at his nose, Eita could pick that you were an overworked university student.

Your lilting voice filled his ears as you had a friendly chat with the amicable barista. He ignored the noise as he stared at the blank manuscript paper before him, frustration bubbling within him. This was the seventh attempt at writing the final song for their break-out album in just as many days. An invisible clock hovered over his head as the hours tick by, closer and closer to the deadline their production manager had set.

The other songs came so freely to him - serving as an outlet for the experiences he’s had or heard about from close friends and family. But this last song? It fought against him tooth and nail, refusing to be put on paper. Eita had a vague concept and a tune, but the words evaded him. That was the most frustrating part really, but it happened to the best musicians so it shouldn’t surprise him that writer’s block finally hit him like a truck on a foggy night. Hard and seemingly out of nowhere.

Eita wanted the final song on their first album to be about his last relationship, as conceited as it may sound to some. He found it was the best way to close that messy chapter of his life. It was never fun to be strung along whilst your partner was looking at - loving - another, and yet refusing to let him go. Plus, people love break-up songs and their up-and-coming band needed something to round out the alternative rock songs they usually played.

Fragmented and incomplete thoughts filled his mind as you continued chatting, now with the mean-looking barista joining in. Easily pulling his attention from the anger-inducing blank white space, Eita gets a good look at you now that you're standing closer. Wearing comfy-looking clothes and a tired expression, you looked like the poster child for the average student and yet Eita felt inexplicably drawn towards you like a magnet to its opposing pole.

Unexpectedly, you turn towards him, catching him in the act of checking you out. Eyes clear despite the tired lines etching into your face, lips pulled into a slight smile that had his heart miss a beat. Okay, wow. Maybe he’s been out of the dating scene for far too long to react like that. Breaking the eye contact, Eita whirls back around in his seat and starts messing with the papers spread before him to feign being busy.

A hot blush seared across his cheeks as he mentally groans at his inappropriate behaviour. The cute university student probably thought that he was a creep now, great. While Eita wanted to do nothing but bury his head into his hands and scream until his throat was raw, the blank page laying innocently there taunted him.

God damn it. He hadn’t felt this frustrated and inadequate since high school. No one wanted to revert to their high school selves. Scrubbing at his eyes, all Eita wanted from tonight was a simple song, that was all. Nothing more. Nothing less. Yet it still felt like a herculean task. The picture of his ex with a fake expression of hurt rises to forefront of his mind unbidden.

Ah yes, there were other times he'd experienced this intense frustration. It hurt to walk away from the first real relationship he’d been in, but she was bad for him in a lot of ways that he was blind. That was until his friends lifted the rose-tinted love goggles and pointed out each and every red flag he had missed.

Suddenly, Eita was struck with the perfect words to encompass the maelstrom of emotions within him, namely bitterness and helplessness.

Not wanting the words escape him , Eita captures them with frantic hands. Scared of their ephemeral nature, here one second and gone the next. Those few words grew into a verse, much to Eita’s elation. He still needed a chorus and an outro, but the intro was looking fine and Eita knew not to push his luck.

Reaching for his guitar and pulling a pick from his jean pocket, he gives his prized possession a quick strum. Judging it in-tune, a few warm-up melodies are played as his hands move without much thought.

Looking back at the sheet of paper sitting before him, incomplete but much better than before, he suddenly notices that the sound of your rapid typing in the background has stopped. Panicked at annoying yet another person angry at the world, Eita turns around quick enough to instill the fear of whiplash.

Met with your inquisitive look, he’s glad to see that you’re not frothing with rage like how some of the less-forgiving people get with his playing. After awkwardly apologising, he concludes you’re not mad in the slightest, instead giving him a weird response and shrugging off his disjointed apology.

There was definitely more than meets the eye with you. Even while being obviously exhausted, you were still kind to him, a stranger, while rushing to complete what he can only assume to be an assignment of some sort. From the short conversation, he couldn’t get a proper gauge for your personality, although he somehow just knew that you would have the most fascinating stories to share.

Eita fails to notice your flushed cheeks due to his laughter, instead he was admiring how your eyes wrinkled at the corners as a smile lit up your entire face. It was entirely too cute for him.

Abruptly, you turn away from him and return to your work, eyes fixed on the screen and furiously typing and clicking away across the room. Bewildered at your sudden change in mood, Eita leaves you be. Following your example, Eita turns back to his own business. There was a reason that he was in a deserted coffee shop in the dead of night, or more like morning at this point. He had work to do and a lot of it.

Despite that, he couldn’t help his eyes straying towards your figure as he strums out one of the first songs he learnt on guitar. From the corner of his eye, Eita notices at how the harsh light of your laptop highlights the exhaustion the soft lights of the shop smoothed out. Concerned at how tired your eyes looked, Eita knew that the coffee you sipped at was not doing its job to chase away the threads of tiredness that threatened to pull you under.

His examining looks go unnoticed by you, surprise, surprise. From what he overheard earlier, it’d make sense that a final assessment would take precedence over one’s self-awareness, not that he knew what that felt like. From how exhausted and slightly panicked you looked, he was glad he didn’t submit to his parents pestering, instead filing straight into the work force while he worked on his aspiring music career.

A sudden scene took his mind hostage, not letting him go until he payed it attention. Muses were odd like that, one minute he was daydreaming about his life’s choices and the next he sees you physically deflate in your chair as you hit a mental roadblock as he blows past his.

Hand possessed with words that filtered so fast through his mind, he couldn’t afford to process them as he messily tries to immortalise them onto paper before they leave him forever. Like the opening of flood gates, abstract scenes flash before his mind’s eye, constructing an intricate life for the unknown person before him and likening them to moments in his own life. You looked tired, overworked and under pressure to complete whatever you were toiling over.

Eita vaguely wonders what brought you to this coffee shop at this god forsaken hour. Was your roommate being too loud? Were you working through a bout of insomnia? Maybe you wanted to get some decent coffee while getting ahead in your course?

Whatever the reason, Eita is thankful for the pure happenstance it was for fate to place you before him. Before you showed up, exasperation was clouding his mind and creating minute tremors his hand. It was never a good mindset to have when puzzling together a significant song for both his band and his own closure.

Slowly, the disjointed verses and chords became stanzas and melodies, forming a fully-fleshed out song before his eyes in what seemed like a blink of an eye, but was most likely a few hours. Reading over the words and chords, Eita mentally sings the verses and then hums the chords out loud, checking that it flowed and it wasn’t a chaotic mess like the last iterations turned out to be.

Smiling at the fruits of his labour, Eita mentally pat himself on the back for persevering and not caving into his band mate’s insistent offers of assistance. They were all versatile in this industry and each had multiple roles within their rag-tag group. The least Eita could do was offer to compose the songs for them to play. Writing them was also a good outlet, he found. Since high school, he’d composed a few short jams, not that they would ever see the light if he could help it.

Pushing his joy back to regain focus, his eyes flit over to your hunched over figure. Even after all the hours that have passed, your fingers still tirelessly flew across your keyboard before pausing and correcting a few spelling and grammar mistakes as you go. Sending you a telepathic “good luck”, Eita once again picks up the instrument with the intent of playing what hopefully will be the final version of this song.

Now knowing that you wouldn’t mind his playing, he went ahead without holding back. Eyes following along with the keys written down, fingers plucking and strumming away at the strings. The notes blend together and softly swells and peaks with each repetition of the chorus. While he knew that you didn’t mind his playing, he didn’t want to distract you, so he mouthed the lyrics as he played.

The last chord hung in the air before fading into nothing. There were a few places that could use a few alterations, either a change in pitch or pace, but all in all it was a decent song accounting for the fact that it was written in less than a night. Now all it needed was a name.

Coming up with an appropriate name was always the hardest part of the process, Eita thought. Typically, if an artist wanted their song to be found easily, it was best to name it after the chorus. Scanning over verses and chorus, he pauses over the words ‘honey go home’.

Eita didn’t even have to turn around to know that you were running on fumes. If he had the confidence to strike up a proper conversation, he knew he would voice this sentiment to you. Pushing aside the thought, he writes the potential name in the top margin with a query next to it.

The song itself needed approval by the rest of the group and by their production manager, but he was overall very proud at completing it under the pressure of a dreadfully close deadline and the absence of a muse. That was, until you walked in.

Without even realising it, you served as the catalyst to the intense emotions that Eita felt in that futile relationship.

That wasn't to say that you reminded him of her. From what he could tell, you weren’t like his ex in the slightest. In fact, he was tempted to say from your short interaction and mannerisms that you were the polar opposite to the stiff and stand-offish demeanour his ex possessed. Still, you somehow triggered a part of him that he’d been unknowingly out of touch with since his break up. it was freeing in a sense, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Calling it a night, Eita begins to pack up his mess of papers and stack dirty coffee mugs. Organising the sheet music into neat piles, he tucked the newly composed song in a sleeve separate to the half-baked songs written earlier on in the night. Throwing the folder and other miscellaneous items into his tote, he briefly wonders about when would be an appropriate time to message the team and notify them of his success. Checking his phone, Eita was not surprised to see that he stayed up so late from how groggy he felt. It definitely feels like almost six in the morning.

Tucking his phone away in his pocket, he grabs the bag and slings his guitar strap over his shoulder. Without even realising it, Eita looks back over to your table. Still in the exact same position, now with a half-empty cup of coffee cooling by your elbow as your emptily stare drills into the word document before you click something and fix whatever mistake you could find. From your unhurried pace, Eita assumed you were in the editing phase of the assignment, close to the end.

He was tempted to walk over to your table, to both say thanks and to get your name. You didn’t know how thankful he was of your presence obliterating his two-week long writer’s block and he wanted to make you aware of it. If he just so happens to offer to thank you over a drink or dinner and you accept, then that'd be a bonus of getting to know you.

As Eita walks towards the exit, he still tosses up whether to approach you or not. As he nears, you sigh heavily and message your temples, signalling that maybe you weren’t in the best of moods to make friendly conversation. That’s alright, Eita thinks as he bypasses your table at the last second. He really didn’t want to be the cause of breaking your focus, especially when you looked so done with life right now.

Like a fool, Eita lets the opportunity slip trough his fingers. Sparing you once last look over his shoulder, he pushes the door open and leaves the shop just as the sun kisses the horizon with her golden rays.

As he makes his way home, in the back of his mind he hopes that you get to go home soon to get some well-deserved rest.

Watching the monster document upload slowly on the café’s slow wifi was torture in and of itself. Sipping the last dredges of the cold coffee, you stare unblinkingly at the loading bar, hoping that it wouldn’t pop up with an error and terminate the upload. If that happened, you were going to scream. And maybe break something. You’re sure Jin wouldn’t mind so much. He knew you would pay for whatever damages you caused in your hysteria.

A small green notification confirms the upload and gives a receipt of your submission. The time stamp was enough for a cold sweat to break out along your skin. Ten minutes longer and it would’ve been late and you would've receive a big fat zero for it. The professor was an asshole to have that stipulation, but you were well and truly too exhausted to be angry at this point.

Shutting down the device, you recline back in the chair and swivel your neck that was stiff from holding it in a weird position for hours on end. God, your whole body was aching from unconsciously holding tension for the entire night.

The faint sunlight filtering through the windows suggest that it was time to pack up and get some much-needed sleep before your class today. Mid-day classes were the best, you cheered. Thankfully you’d be able to get at least a few hours before having to survive the rest of the day. You still had other assignments and module quizzes after all.

After neatly placing all your stuff away, you turn to seek out the attractive musician. At the sight of the empty chair he once inhabited, your heart sinks. You hadn’t even seen him leave, too wrapped up in rushing to submit before the rapidly approaching deadline.

Dismayed at the musician’s absence, you crush the unwarranted thought of being lonelier than you thought to fall for a stranger after a short conversation. If it could even be called a conversation since it was mostly him apologising.

Sighing out loud, you grab your bag and wave at Jin as you stand.

“Thanks for the coffee. You’re a miracle worker I swear.” Your compliment made him smile as he continued to sweep behind the counter.

“Good to hear that you enjoyed my coffee even though they were probably cold when you drank them.”

You chuckle at that and give a good bye as you leave the shop. The trip home was a blur in your mind. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow. As blissful unconsciousness enveloped you, the image of the ash-blond musician pops in your mind.

Eita was torn between cursing ever meeting you or thanking every god that existed. No that was a lie. He definitely didn’t regret meeting you. What he did regret was telling his prying room mate about the unexpected form his muse appeared as, after being asked how he pumped out a song so quickly.

Satori had a field day about his incompetence in asking for a someone's name.

“You have the looks and charisma of a modern day Adonis and yet you are the most awkward person I know when it comes to flirting.”

Eita had no grounds to defend himself. He knew he was hopeless when it came to dating. That was probably why he stayed so long in his last one, knowing how hard it is to put himself back on the dating scene.

“Yeah. I know.” He replied, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. It did nothing to alleviate the headache he felt coming on.

“Have you tried going back there to meet them again?” Satori looked at him questioningly while upside down from where he had his head thrown over the back of the lounge.

Yeah, Eita has tried going back there. All at varying times that he was out and about and had succumbed to the urge to go back there and see if maybe you were there. On his tenth visit there, he was sorely tempted to ask the barista with the thick eyebrows that you spoke to on that fateful night for your name. Common sense was quick to convince him out of that idea, he really didn’t want to come across as a creep.

Satori didn’t have to know all of that, though, so he stayed vague with his answer.

“Yeah I have, but they weren’t there.”

“Well,” Satori dragged the word out for longer then necessary and Eita felt his eyebrow tick in irritation. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Like Romeo and Juliet but with less death.”

Shaking his head at the analogy, Eita silently agrees with the flamboyant red-head. Maybe meeting you once was enough of a miracle that he should be thankful for and just accept his star-crossed meeting with you.

Still, he had a lot to thank you for. You served as a catalyst for became the most popular song in their first album, 'Honey Go Home' shooting up in the charts every passing day. Since then, they’ve been booking gigs left and right. Not that you ever knew it, nor would you ever since he hadn’t seen you since that fateful night.

A text from their manager pulls him out of the bittersweet reverie, notifying him of an impromptu meeting to cover the packed schedule for the next month. Running a hand through his hair, he contemplates if he had enough time to get dressed and grab something to eat along the way.

Judging that he could, but it’d be a tight fit, Eita shoots off into his room to chuck on random articles of clothing before heading out. He hears Satori snort at his outfit combination and ignores it in favour of beating the lunch-time rush.

By the time he makes it into the business district, Semi had a handful of minutes to spare to grab lunch before what he assumes is going to be a long meeting. Spotting a takoyaki stall not far from him, he was soon waiting in line with others that were won over by the delicious savoury smells permeating from the stall.

The order turnover was pretty quick, still he eyed the time on his phone’s home screen with worry. His band mates wouldn’t let himself live it down, hell he himself wouldn’t let it go. No one wanted to be that guy holding everyone up from going home to their lives. Generally, they all got along like a house on fire but with their recent schedule, it was hard not to want to spend lost time with friends and family.

Hearing his order called out, he rushed to collect the bag. There was no time to eat it now, so he’s have to eat during it, which wasn’t the worse thing to ever happen. Picking up his pace whilst answering a text, he doesn’t see the person he ends up crashing into, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

They gasp as he slams against their back and start to tilt forward before he reaches out and pulls them by their shoulder to get back their footing.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” His eyes sweep down the person’s body, ensuring he caused no physical damage. As the person turned around to face him, Eita met the  face he'd least expected to see. Taken aback, Eita stared at you in shock as you mimicked him.

It was a humorous twist of fate that he would quite literally come crashing back into your life, after trying to find you for entire week.

It took you a moment to recognise him, trying to place his face to someone you met while his eyes roam your face. Once you do remember, you flushed at the close proximity of your bodies, his hand still clasped on your shoulder.

You both stared at one another as the world passes by, unknowing of the second fortuitous second meeting of the pair. Shock was the predominant emotion reigning inside of Eita, followed by gratefulness.

He suffered a full week of teasing from Satori and his band for acting like a hapless fool in love with some nameless person. There was no way in hell he was going to let you slip through his fingers again without at least getting a name.

“Hey, I know this sounds weird, but can I ask for your name?” He cursed the way his voice cracked at the greeting, wanting to scream at how awkward he was being again.

For whatever reason, it seemed that you were charmed by his latent charisma trumping his stiff question and you respond with your name. Testing it, he says it back to you and you respond with a nod at his pronunciation.

“What’s yours? I can’t keep calling you hot music guy.” You query in kind.

A light blush covers his cheeks at the compliment. He knew he looked good, people never failed to remind him, but it was always an ego boost when someone that made his heart flutter gave a compliment.

“I’m Semi Eita.”

He realises he was still holding your shoulder as they jump up as you silently laugh at his adorable blush. As if you burned him, he snatches away his hand as the blush intensifies. Eita was sure his face was bright red now.

“Well, hi Semi. I’m glad I got to meet you again. I wanted to thank you for playing that night, it really pushed me to keep working.” You glance off to the side, not meeting his surprised expression.

A soft, warm feeling fills him at your words. The power music possessed was a mysterious thing. To know that his playing had such an effect on you was incredible. It was extremely flattering.

“That's funny, because I actually wanted to thank you.” The words pour out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

A curious look lights up your face and urges him to continue.

“In a round-about way, you inspired me –“ The shrill ring tone of his phone cut off his explanation.

Giving you an apologetic look, he looks at the screen and grimaces when he sees the contact name of his manager paired with the time. He was late already, so what was a few more minutes? He might as well shoot his shot, Eita concludes as he denies the call and meets your beautiful gaze.

Under the sunlight in light clothing for the warm spring-time weather, you looked stunning. The lack of tired lines etching your face and eye-bags soothes his heart, knowing that you got some decent sleep last night. It was weird how he barely knew you and yet he wanted to know if you got some sleep. Eita barely knew you and he craved being able to take care of you on those long nights when you were unable to do so yourself.

“Was that important?” You tilt your head at him and Eita had to refrain himself from visibly showing how much the cute action affected him.

“Ah, yeah, it kind of was,” Came his stilted reply. You bit at your cheek as Eita wanted to bang his head against a wall. What was it with him losing his cool with you around? Usually he was pretty good with small talk, or so he was told. His phone starts ringing again in his hand and he doesn't even bother to look at it.

Time had run out, it was now or never.

“Can I have your number? I’d really like to thank you when I’m not being rushed.” The words rushed out of him in a single breath, the split second of courage proving to be his downfall. As he regained that breath, he realised how fast he spoke. It was highly likely that you might’ve not caught them. Okay, now he was ready to bury himself alive.

R.I.P. Semi Eita.

Cause of death: trying and failing to ask for your number.

You stared at him blankly, mind taking a moment to process the word vomit, unknowingly watching him as he has an internal melt-down. His question suddenly hits you and it takes everything in you to not blush at the thought of a kind and talented musician asking for your number.

“Oh! You want my number?” You ask, pulling out your phone and pointing at it in question.

Relief sweeps away the embarrassment that threatened to surpass all logic and just leg it away from you and forget about ever meeting you entirely.

Not trusting himself, Eita nods. Pulling up a new contact and handing over his phone, you wordlessly do the same. Standing there filling out contact details, his accomplishment didn’t strike him until he thanked you and promised to text you soon after you urged him to get where he was needed.

While it wasn’t exactly the way he envisioned your first proper conversation to go, it did end with your name, number and a promise of a future meet-up. It was hard to keep the grin off of his face as he enters the room filed with unimpressed people. Once he explained his tardiness, the mood turned on its head as they gave him encouraging pats on the back and a few hair-ruffles that he batted away.

The entire time he sat there, his phone felt like a lead weight in his pocket. It took all his self-restraint to not text you right then and there.

In the end, it turned out you were the one to send the first text. If anyone saw the way he reacted to receiving that text as he walked out the building, he would refute any and all claims of him lighting up like a Christmas tree until the day he died.

Unlike asking for your number, it took a while for him to gather the courage to ask you out after a few easy-flowing conversations. With your enthusiastic response, he felt on top of the world.

Eita never made a habit of looking back at the past, arguing there was nothing one could possibly gain from doing so. Although, after the short few months since meeting and consequently dating you, he found himself often looking back to that quite night in the dimly-lit coffee shop. By all means, that stress-filled night should not have lead to him finding his other half. But as Eita had come to learn, even the mundane becomes extraordinary with you by his side.

Notes: I wrote this in a night and had to stop myself from posting it without editing because I have no self-restraint sometimes. Critiques, Comments & Notes are always welcomed!

[ravens-rambling]

Loved (part 2)

A/N: I know this isn’t what I said I was gonna do but I had most of this written and thought this would work perfectly in with this little series so idk take another part

this idea came from thomas’s Q and A live stream he did awhile ago and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVuvvf6k70c&t=4460s - go watch it if you haven’t its adorable

this properly isn’t as good as the others but eh I tried 

I’m already done with the final part that I said I was gonna do just got to edit it out so I should be able to post it in a few days! 

summary: They start to notice Virgil isn’t getting too much sleep lately so his family decides to step in and help! 

WC: 2,977 

ships: no ships just more family comfort <3 

warnings: hurt/comfort, touch starvation, sleep deprivation, so much fluff your teeth will fall out

Tag list: @frostedlover - if you want to be tagged in the future let me know! 

They all start to notice.

The past few days Virgil's sunken in cheeks and eyes. The fact that his skin was paler than normal. And that he wasn't eating as much as he did before, which Logan said was already pretty low amounts. That didn't settle well with Patton to see one of his kiddos suffering. He was the first one to notice the change in Virgil. And the first one to speak up about it.

"Virgil, kiddo, you doing okay?" He asked one-morning making breakfast and as of late Virgil there with him in the kitchen either tapping away at his phone or helping him get something. It bothered Patton that he was up this early. Normally he was the last to wake up out of all of them. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand but he could tell he wasn't up for any physical contact this time. Or really any time as of late.

Virgil simply shrugged and mumbled under his breath, "I'm fine Patton."

And that was that.

By the way, Virgil's tense shoulders were he could tell he was already done with this conversation.

Just thinking about how pale he looks now. How he's not eating enough. Sent Patton's bottom lip quiver in worry. He can't let this go on anymore. He has to do something to help his dark, strange son out.

At first, he tried to think up of a plan. But nothing he could think up would work for Virgil, he thought. Everything was just so...Patton and not Virgil. He knew he won't like any of his ideas.

So he turned to the rest of his family for help. 

He kept thinking that all he wants to do is hug his dark son but the scene flashed in his mind of just a few weeks ago. Patton trying to hug him through his attack and all that happened was more terrified screams coming from Virgil's mouth. It sent shivers down his spine as it kept flashing in his mind. All he can do is hold his hand at the moment...

Finally, he asked the question over dinner which to Patton's sorrow, Virgil didn't come down to eat with them. Now he's getting really worried about him. He really hopes that he's able to help him soon, one way or another. Virgil always joined them for dinner before...

"He for certain has signs of not getting enough sleep as of late. It could be his worries acting up again for whatever reason this time. I'm not certain how we can help him though. I have read recently that some psychologist has noticed in their patients that having something to represent their anxiety calms people down. Or maybe we can try-"

Before Logan finished his words Roman raised an eyebrow. "A physical representation of their anxiety? Does that really work?"

Logan adjusted his glasses a bit, "I'm not sure. It seems to work with some people. I'm not sure what that can be. It might not even be his own anxiety rather his body getting used to being touched, it might be adjusting to his new changes. Maybe having something there to help him through this is what he needs."

It brightened up Patton's heart to see the rest of his family care so much about Virgil. They have come so far in such little time. That's when it hit him.

"A plushie! We can give him a plushie!" Patton suddenly yelled out causing Roman to jump a bit.

"A plushie? I guess that would work." Logan simply said.

"Oh! I have a perfect plushie of dashing ol' me! We can give him that! Oh..wait it can't leave my room since I thought it up.."

"Roman, why do you have a plush of yourself?"

"Why to give to my fans of course! I've been meaning to take that idea to Thomas. You know people will die for it."

Before Logan could say anything back Patton shook his head. "No no. It needs to be more special than that. It needs to come from all of us."

"Oh yes something from the hearts of all of us! That way it would be like he is getting hugged by all three of us!"

"I assume then we are making this stuffed animal? Does anyone knows how to sew except for Virgil?" Logan said adjusting his glasses. He remembers that Virgil actually loves to sew, once he caught him sewing late at night in the living room. When he asked why he was doing it Virgil quietly mumbled that he liked to do it cause it kept his hands busy when he was stressed.

They both got dead quiet looking to the table before shrugging. Logan drew a long sigh before saying, "I do have some books about it in my room but I've never sewed myself before."

They both nodded and instantly got to brainstorming on what animal they are going to make. Of course not caring that none of them can't sew but they will learn if it means helping out their family member.

It didn't take long for Logan to find the books and was heading downstairs to find that Virgil's light was still on, seeping through from under the door. A light sigh escaped him. It even hurt him to see Virgil like that, despite the fact that he hates to even think about emotions. He truly hopes that this stuffed animal helps him out somehow... The only thing he could think of other then this is to sleep in the room with him and that won't work as any of them can be in his room for longer than a half hour. Plus that Virgil refuses to sleep downstairs unless he accidentally falls asleep, properly cause he only feels safe in his room. Another light sigh made his way past his lips as he made his way down the stairs and with a slight smile rushed forwards to help them two brainstorm some more.

It didn't take long before they came up with an idea. They were not kidding when they said they wanted it to be to have a part of all three of them. There was even a tiny bit of Virgil in it as well.

Once they were done brainstorming now it was the hard part. Before long it was a few hours into the night and they weren't even done making the legs. Logan checked the time and saw that it was close to midnight. Without even mentioning it he knew they were going to stay up all night making this. Silently he made a cup of coffee for each of them handing it over to them with a silent glance.

Their long night was already taking their toll on them. Patton suggested they turn on some TV just for background noise to which they all agreed. Luckily Steven Universe was playing on repeat which Patton was happy for.

At first, they were buzzing away, excitement leaking out of them, but now it was dead silent in the room. They were so concentrated and focused on their tasks at hand they didn't even think about talking to each other, that mixed with their now tiredness didn't help matters at all.

Logan read the instructions while making sure it was coming together right while Patton and Roman worked together to stitch up different parts of the animal together.

It was difficult work to say the least. How Virgil does this on his past time they didn't know. It only brought a small admiration to all of them now.

Before long the sun leaked into the large room. They all were dead silent now as they finished up the last touches. All of their eyes could barely stay open at this point, most of the coffee they had now gone.

With one final stitch, Patton squealed in delight as he finished it off. Roman and Logan groaned loudly as they flopped on the couch in defeat. Roman's hands twitched with soreness and Logan's head was killing him. Patton, on the other hand, was squealing and jumped off the couch only to jump around the room holding the stuffed animal close to his chest in delight.

Roman simply glanced at him in astonishment, "How do you still have energy?" Though he had a small smile on his face, proud of their accomplishment and glad to see Patton so happy.

Logan simply chuckled and glanced towards the time again, "8 AM.. We've been up all night.."

Patton stopped at that and whipped over, "Virgil's been getting up earlier lately. He might come down at any moment."

As if on cue they heard a door shut upstairs and a patter of footsteps. They quickly glanced at each other before eagerly getting to their feet. Within a moment Patton hid the plush behind his back and had a beaming smile on his face. Roman tried to mimic Patton but it only came out as a half smile through his exhaustion despite his excitement. Logan looked dead on his feet while he adjusted his glasses but he tried to look at least somewhat happy at this moment.

The familiar dark form of Virgil came down the stairs his eyes looking at his screen as he was scrolling through Tumblr and had a pair of headphones on. Though when he rounded the corner to see all the other sides staring at him with weird smiles he raised an eyebrow and paused his music. Before he could even open his mouth Patton shoved something in his face. Blinking his tired eyes his eyebrow only raised even more as he saw what it was.

Only confusion was in his gaze.

It was a poorly sewed up plush of a light blue cat wearing a white unicorn onesie with purple eyes holding a sword with a red handle. Virgil just blinked at it in shock his fogged up brain slowly clicking into what was before him. His eyes glanced up to their half-asleep faces then back at the plush only for it to slowly click into what they did.

A snort of a chuckle escaped from his lips as it did, "Oh my god guys..." He said through his chuckle taking the plush very gently in his hands as he was afraid one good movement and a stitch would come loose.

"I love it.." He was going to mention how poorly it was done but honestly, he didn't want to burst any of their bubbles on seeing their faces. A few tears were on the edge of his eyes as he hugged it against his chest.

"This... This is the nicest thing..I've ever gotten..from anybody..." A shaky sigh came from him, "Thank you, guys.." He didn't know what else to say as he glanced up again to see them all staring at him with beaming smiles and Patton about looking ready to bounce around the room in happiness.

"We're so happy you love it kiddo!"

"Yeah, Jack Smellington. You better of liked it." Roman winked at him.

"Well, I'm glad you do as well. We worked quite hard on it after all." Logan sighed as he walked over to the couch his eyes already failing to keep open.

Virgil now got guilty at seeing them this exhausted. They did this for him... They must have seen how tired he was and tried to help him... They grew worried for him...

He's never had to worry about people growing concerned for him. Certainly not enough to where they would stay up all night and make him something, and nothing like this. A few tears came from his eyes before he wiped it away. "I really am grateful but um..you three look like your going to pass out... Why don't you all sleep.." He eagerly said wanting the attention to be put off him.

He hoped when they wake up he won't feel as bad. As he glanced at Patton, that still huge dumb grin on his face, he could tell he wanted to hug him. His hands grabbed in the air by his sides and he kept inching towards him.

Gulping even more at that he ducked his head trying to avert his gaze from the other. He still felt bad that Patton can't hug him. He still wanted a hug from him that's for sure. His heartache was still there, ever present though it has gone down slightly from the past few weeks, he wasn't sure if he was ready for that quite yet.

As Patton saw Virgil looking embarrassed and shied away from him he frowned momentarily before a thought came in his mind. "Oh! Why don't we have a sleepover in the living room! Sure its the morning but since none of us got any sleep so why don't we sleep altogether!" He beamed at them.

Virgil chuckled at that, of course, Patton would want a sleepover. Though he was quite nervous about sleeping down here, he's only slept in his room only. He hoped he would be fine, he rather liked the idea of sleeping with them despite not cuddling with any of them.

Roman nodded eagerly at that and the next moment was heading up the stairs to get blankets and pillows.

Logan simply shrugged and started making room for them all through he was half asleep and making more messes then ever. Truthfully none of them cared about that at this moment though.

Virgil still held the plushie against his chest as before long Roman dragged tons of their blankets and pillows down the stairs, mostly coming from Patton's room as he had the most and the fluffiest out of the four. Though Roman made sure to grab some of Virgil's as well so he would feel safe sleeping in a place that's new. At seeing that Virgil's face drew up in a slightly bigger smile.

Before long there was a big empty space in the middle of their living room and blankets and pillows were tossed around to semi resemble a bed. As they all flopped down getting themselves comfy Virgil, though, didn't know where he could lay that was far enough from them but close enough so he could still be with them.

Patton smiled lightly as he saw Virgil fidgeting above him still holding the plush close to his chest. He looked like a young kid right then. Scooting over and throwing his blankets to his side he patted next to him, "Come on, Virge. It's alright."

Virgil gave a small nod before laying himself down his eyes looked longingly at Patton. All he wanted was to cuddle up into him, rest his head under his chin and breath in his scent. That ache in his chest came back at full force at that thought, so badly that his body shook a bit. Gulping he made grabby hands towards Patton's hands and gripped onto those so tightly he was sure it must have hurt Patton.

Quickly darting away he tried to mumble out an apology but Patton shook his head, "It's alright... Here.." He scooted a bit closer and with one hand held Virgil's hand the other one raised up into Virgil's purple hair massaging it.

A shuttered gasp drew out of Virgil's mouth causing Patton to quickly dart back, "Is that alright, Virge?"

Virgil's cheeks grew hotter as he shook his head, his hand left Patton as he gripped the hand that left his hair and plopped it back on top of his head. "P-Please.." Was all that could mumble out of Virgil's mouth. His cheeks were bright red at this point. That small touch sent fires through his body. But it wasn't scouring fires it was rather soft and gentle, almost like a fireplace.

Patton smiled gently as he started softly massaging his hair again chuckling slightly at the blush that showed up on Virgil's face. He looked too cute like that.

Soft shakes came from Virgil's body but a shy smile was on his face. He leaned his head more into the hand. Soon a soft moan came from Virgil's mouth which caused him to quickly close it and shuffle away.

To which Patton gave a soft giggle, "Aaww Virge... You're too cute! Come here.." He only leaned forward and ruffled his hair some more.

A few soft gasps escaped from him before he grew quiet, his other hand tightly gripping onto the plush as he slowly closed his eyes. Slowly he melted into the touch of the other all the tension leaving his body as he curled into a ball around the plush. And before long soft snores came from that corner.

Patton chuckled, even more, softer this time as he continued massaging his hair.

Roman peeked out from beside Patton and smiled brightly at the sight, "He is too adorable, isn't he? I guess our mission was a success." He pointed to the plush that was being hugged by him.

Logan quietly mumbled from the other corner, "It seems he is okay with his hair being touched now, one step ahead... Can we go to sleep now?"

The others chuckled before quietly saying yes. Patton was pretty sure Virgil didn't know the others were still awake. A soft smile was still on Patton's face as he saw how peaceful his kiddo looked. It warmed his heart that they were helping him out. Slowly he was getting over his fear. His body was slowly getting used to being touched. Sure Patton still wants to hug his dark son, right now he was itching to cuddle up against him, but he knew in due time he would be able to do just that. Even if it took years he will wait.

He wanted his son to be happy, no matter what, after all.

[nerddface]

After Midnight

Characters: Federico Auditore, female!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Marble one of three :)

Based off of this (or these): (x)

Word Count: 1502

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A warm Italian breeze drifted through the window and meandered over Y/N’s skin. She sighed at the page she had been staring at for the last half hour. Her eyes had gone through the motions of reading what was written on it a dozen times, but her mind was worlds away.

She let her chin fall into her palm, and gave up reading altogether. Her gaze was drawn to the moon, casting its silvery light across her bedsheets and then to where it mingled with the warm yellow glow of her candles on the floor.

A knock at her window startled her, and she jumped, looking to the noise to see a familiar grin shining at her through the glass panes.

Heaving a breath to calm her suddenly racing heart, she strode to the window and swung it open.

“Federico!” she scolded in a harsh whisper. He beamed up at her and hauled himself up and over the windowsill.

“Ciao, madonna mia,” he greeted as his feet hit her bedroom rug. “How are you on this lovely evening?”

“Paranoid, now, thanks to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “My father will never allow you to see me again if he catches you in here like this.”

“Like what?” Federico looks as innocent as ever, but the sparkle of his teeth in the candlelight convinced her otherwise.

Y/N snorted and plopped back down in her desk chair.

“I hope you didn't come here for help with your studies,” she lamented, “for I haven't the mind for any of it right now.”

“The brightest woman I know, unamused by her books?” Federico placed a hand over his heart in faux shock. “Dios mio. What has happened to you?”

“I don't know,” she sighed, resting her elbow on her desk and her cheek in her hand again. Federico leaned his hip against the edge of the table, peering over the scattered literature.

There was a moment’s pause and Y/N stared mindlessly at a flickering candle flame before Federico piped up again.  

“Ah, now I know.”

“What?” Y/N blinked and met his brown-amber eyes.

“You have been staring at pages for far too long, amica. I believe you need a change of pace.”

She quirked an eyebrow, unsure of what he might propose. God only knew with the Auditore boys. She resisted wincing when she remembered the time an afternoon stroll turned into a right trample across the countryside on horseback, and ended with Federico in a sling after he missed catching a beam leaping from his horse’s saddle and dislocated his shoulder. Luckily there was a doctor literally just around the corner to set it back in place, and after a scolding, a handful of small pills pressed into her palm, and the advice to “keep your husband out of trouble,” they walked (on foot) back to the palazzo. Needless to say, his father was not very pleased, and Y/N really didn’t need to deal with that again.

“Don't worry, my dear Y/N.” Federico brought her from her momentary reverie. “You won’t cease learning, but I believe experience is the best teacher.”

He held out a hand, bowed sweepingly, and looked up at her through his dark bangs. He must have noticed her hesitant gaze, because he stood straight again.

“Have I ever lied to you, tesoro?”

He guided her hands away from her desk with his, and leaned in to press a successfully distracting kiss to her mouth.

“I suppose not,” she sighed, and stood.

“Come, then,” Federico beckoned, picking up one of her light coats and guiding her to her door.

~

Their stroll started slowly enough, simply wandering with no apparent purpose, and chatting about the slightly frazzled tendencies of Y/N’s tutor. But then Federico eyed something across the street and strode over the cobblestone to stand before a weighted scaffold pulley system.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, but the only response she got was a grin. He stepped onto the platform, and reached with one hand up to the rope and for her waist with the other.

“Hold on tight,” he hummed in her ear before she could protest, and in a moment they were shooting up onto the rooftop. Her feet made the tile clink, and she feared falling, but Federico’s arm was steadying her shoulder.

“Bene?” he asked, and she nodded, unable to find anything to say.

“I enjoy the rooftops at night,” he commented as they strolled to an edge. “You can see so much of the sky, and less people bother you the higher you go.”

The pigeons that had gathered on the tile scattered as they drew closer, and Y/N was drawn forward by Federico’s strong arm as she began to linger.

“What are we doing?”

“Learning,” Federico responded. “Remember? It’s a simple jump.”

“You plan to jump?!” she exclaimed, and he nodded, pointing to a haystack on the grass below them.

“My father taught me. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Your father is mad. There’s no way I’m going to jump off a building, break my neck, and die. Who is supposed to finish my essay when I’m dead?”

Federico extended an arm to the ledge and took a short step. “I will show you.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not! I won’t have you breaking your neck and dying to prove some silly--” before she could finish, though, he’d taken another step and leapt, arms wide. She held her hands to her chest and peered over the roof to see him step calmly from the haystack after a moment, grin at her when she barked his name, and scale the building back up to her.

“See?” He turned for her to see every aspect of him was unscathed. “Perfectly safe.”

“What if I crush you?” she asked, taking a step back.

He laughed, stepping forward to keep the space between them close. “Piccolo uccello, do you really think you can crush me?”

“What if you crush me?!”

His hands rested gently on her arms, and he studied her eyes with a sincerity that wasn't there a moment prior.

“I promise you will be safe.”

She looked at him for a moment, knowing that he spoke truthfully, but still unsure about the whole thing. Slowly, his arms reached around her arms and her middle, and he pulled her into his chest as he stepped closer to the edge, and--

A strand of straw poked her cheek, and her heart thudded against her ribs, in time with her companion’s against her chest. As she blinked and breathed in the warm, musty air, a smile stole her lips. A laugh bubbled up in her chest, and escalated quickly.

Giggling madly, she clambered out of his arms and the haystack, clasping her hands at her chest. “That was exhilarating! Let’s go again!”

She rushed to the ladder again, but a chuckling Federico caught her waist and pulled her back. She whirled on him, ready to pry his hands free and jump herself, when he pointed to the rooftops. She followed his finger to see a guard stepping from a further rooftop to the building they’d just leapt off.

“Looks like that is over for today.”

Y/N deflated. “Back to the books, then.”

“Hold on just a moment, young lady, I didn’t say all was over!” he slung an arm over her shoulders and steered her in the opposite direction. “There are plenty more places to find fun, and with you here, it isn’t more than a look away.”

Her cheeks flushed, and suddenly she was very aware of the weight over her shoulders. “Nothing good ever happens after nightfall,” Y/N recited. “That’s what mother says.”

Federico clicked his tongue. “That is where I have to disagree with you, bella. There are plenty of good things that occur after dark. Or did your parents never speak with you about what happens when two people find--”

Y/N cut him off with a noise of disgust. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes, they did, and no, you don’t need to reiterate!”

Federico’s laugh echoed off the slowly emptying cobblestone street. She tried to shrink away, but that only drew him closer.

“I am only teasing,” he chuckled, and she crossed her arms over her chest indignantly, peering into his eyes, turned silvery by the moon. “Come, I meant what I said earlier. Simply point me in a direction and I will make sure you enjoy yourself.”

Despite the tendency he had to get her into ridiculous (and sometimes considerably compromising) situations, she knew he told the truth when he said she’d enjoy the experience. Everywhere she went with him, be it a short trip to an artist’s booth down the street to her house or a day-long excursion outside the walls of Firenze, she came home with a warm heart and a smile.

Maybe good things did happen after midnight.

[glovenose82-blog]

Five Reasons Why Lil Wayne Had Such a Big First Week For 'Tha Carter V'

The official numbers are in for Lil Wayne's Tha Carter V in its first week of availability, and it's a triumph. The album earned 480,000 equivalent album units in the week ending Oct. 4, according to Nielsen Music, to launch at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 Albums chart, while debuting a record-tying 22 entries on the Billboard Hot 100.

The staggering numbers make complete one of the year's most successful comebacks, following a long period that the rapper born Dwayne Carter essentially spent in the recording wilderness. Feuding with former label head and mentor Bryan "Birdman" Williams held up the recording and release of Carter V for nearly a half decade, until Wayne finally made a clean split from Cash Money Records earlier this year.

In the meantime, the rapper released several mixtapes and the 2015 Tidal exclusive Free Weezy Album, but received only faint attention for the projects. It was part of a commercial (and arguably artistic) decline that had encompassed most of Weezy's 2010s, including his most recent official wide release, 2013's I Am Not a Human Being II, which sold respectably (217k first week) but underperformed compared to the MC's prior releases, and drew reviews that were middling at best. 

So why was Tha Carter V such a resounding win? Here's five things the No. 1 album in the country had going for it. 

1. Quick rollout. It was just four months ago that news broke that Wayne had settled his lawsuit with Cash Money, and not even a month ago that Wayne revealed (via his Billboard cover story) that Tha Carter V was now officially on its way. Its firm release date wasn't announced until the Wednesday before, when Weezy released a charming teaser video that divulged the album would be coming out on his birthday (Sept. 28). No songs were released ahead of time, and even the tracklist and cover remained largely a mystery in the hours leading up to its midnight drop. 

And as we've seen time and again in recent years, the less press an album has in the months leading up to its release -- particularly in the hip-hop world -- the more furor it tends to generate when it unexpectedly arrives. Eminem learned this lesson recently, when last year's over-hyped and somewhat undercooked Revival received an underwhelming response after a months-long rollout, and then this year's vengeful Kamikaze posted much stronger numbers as a sneak release no one saw coming. After a half-decade of waiting for an album, it's tough to still make it seem like a pleasant surprise, but with Tha Carter V, Wayne somehow pulled it off. 

2. Good timing. Released over a weekend (Sept. 28-30) that also had two other major hip-hop releases on the schedule, Logic's Young Sinatra IV and Kanye West's Yandhi, created a wave of excitement for rap fans that helped raise the public profile of (and excitement for) all three sets. Having both Wayne and Kanye in the mix allowed fans in their 20s to wax nostalgic about '00s release days spent lining up at stores on release day to buy physical CDs, while even older fans could flashback almost exactly 20 years to Sept. 29, 1998 -- often deemed the greatest release day in hip-hop history, due to simultaneous releases from OutKast, JAY-Z, A Tribe Called Quest and many others. 

Of course in 2018, one of those much-anticipated albums ended up not dropping at all: Yandhi was first delayed until Saturday night, and then pushed back all the way to late November. Meanwhile, Kanye spent that Saturday night performing on SNL, controversially wearing a MAGA hat and making unaired (but later heavily circulated) comments about being "bullied" backstage for his pro-Trump wardrobe. This may have just served to further drive listeners to Tha Carter V, however -- at a time when supporting Kanye feels more fraught than ever for many fans, listening to new material from his only real challenger for late-'00s hip-hop supremacy was by contrast a refreshingly nostalgic and generally satisfying experience. 

3. Strong branding. While Wayne has more noteworthy running album series than nearly any other figure in rap history -- including Dedication, Sorry 4 the Wait, I Am Not a Human Being and several other brand-name LPs and mixtapes with one or multiple sequels to their credit -- there's still something hallowed about his Tha Carter series. The first one launched him into the mainstream as a solo star, the second one solidified his cult and remains a Weezy fan favorite to this day, and the third one served as his commercial peak by selling over a million copies first week and winning a best rap album Grammy. Even Tha Carter IV, which received mixed reviews and a lesser fan reception than III, still sold nearly a million copies (964k) first week, and long stood as easily Wayne's most successful project of the last decade. 

So while Wayne had released some more marginal works since The Carter IV's 2011 drop, titling his most recent album Tha Carter V essentially let listeners know that he meant business this time. As with JAY-Z and his three-album Blueprint series, or Eminem with his Marshall Mathers LP​s 1 & 2, it's a title that even casual music fans can understand the significance of, signaling to audiences that after a period of perhaps not giving his best effort on recent projects, Wayne was once again ready to give fans -- as he says in the set's trailer video - "all of me... more than me." 

4. Embracing streaming. In truth, Tha Carter V only sold a small fraction of the copies moved by the last two entries in the series: just 141k in first-week sales, less than even I Am Not a Human Being 2 in its opening frame. But that doesn't really count as a loss for Wayne, because the album was so enormous on streaming services: The 433 million on-demand streams the album drew in its first week of availability ranked as the second-highest total in history, behind only protégé Drake's recent blockbuster Scorpion (745.9 million). 

It's not a surprise the album was so well-streamed, because despite the rapper being a holdover from the days of physical CDs and iTunes downloads, Wayne fitted Tha Carter V to translate to the streaming era. It's 23 tracks long -- longest of any of the Carter sets so far -- which inevitably attracts more plays total across its many tracks. And the album also features high-profile appearances from more contemporary Spotify stars like Kendrick Lamar, the late XXXTentacion and Travis Scott-- all of whom appear on the album's first half, and whose presence have helped the tracks they appear on ("Mona Lisa," "Don't Cry" and "Let It Fly," respectively) become the album's three most-streamed tracks, in fact ending the tracking week as the top three songs on Billboard's Streaming Songs chart. 

Taking it even further, Wayne also participated in an even-more-modern promotional tactic shortly following the release of Tha Carter V: He posted a Twitter video of his kids dancing to the set's "Uproar," helping spread the word of the #UproarChallenge -- a similar movement to the one that helped Drake's "In My Feelings" go supernova on the Billboard Hot 100 shortly after the release of Scorpion. Whether "Uproar" will explode in similar fashion remains to be seen, but the track does debut at No. 7 on the Hot 100 this week -- and No. 4 on the Streaming Songs chart -- demonstrating how Wayne's embrace of the viral allows him to continue posting superstar numbers in 2018, even with songs that sound like (and prominently feature both samples and artists from) the turn of the century. 

5. It's Weezy F. Baby. All the talk of timing, branding, and streaming-friendless with Wayne shouldn't bury the primary takeaway from Tha Carter V's big week here: Lil Wayne is enjoying his comeback moment primarily because he made his strongest album in ages. It's Wayne revitalized, darker and more personal than ever, but still sounding joyful just because he sounds fully invested and involved in his music again. The people agree: check review aggregation website Metacritic and Tha Carter V has Wayne's highest rating -- both in critics' Metascore and even by average user grade -- since Tha Carter III a decade earlier. 

It was clear from the Internet response to the news of his imminent return after so long adrift that people were ready to root for Lil Wayne again. But if he hadn't made an album that reminded people of why he was once widely considered (by himself above all) as the best rapper alive -- if he hadn't made an album that was worthy of the brand name its title reflected -- that good will would have evaporated pretty quickly. Tha Carter V was that album, and now Weezy has reassumed his place among hip-hop's ruling class. 

Source: https://www.billboard.com/biz/articles/8479059/five-reasons-why-lil-wayne-had-such-a-big-first-week-for-tha-carter-v

[nerddface-has-moved]

After Midnight

Characters: Federico Auditore, female!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Marble one of three :)

Based off of this (or these): (x)

Word Count: 1502

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A warm Italian breeze drifted through the window and meandered over Y/N’s skin. She sighed at the page she had been staring at for the last half hour. Her eyes had gone through the motions of reading what was written on it a dozen times, but her mind was worlds away.

She let her chin fall into her palm, and gave up reading altogether. Her gaze was drawn to the moon, casting its silvery light across her bedsheets and then to where it mingled with the warm yellow glow of her candles on the floor.

A knock at her window startled her, and she jumped, looking to the noise to see a familiar grin shining at her through the glass panes.

Heaving a breath to calm her suddenly racing heart, she strode to the window and swung it open.

“Federico!” she scolded in a harsh whisper. He beamed up at her and hauled himself up and over the windowsill.

“Ciao, madonna mia,” he greeted as his feet hit her bedroom rug. “How are you on this lovely evening?”

“Paranoid, now, thanks to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “My father will never allow you to see me again if he catches you in here like this.”

“Like what?” Federico looks as innocent as ever, but the sparkle of his teeth in the candlelight convinced her otherwise.

Y/N snorted and plopped back down in her desk chair.

“I hope you didn't come here for help with your studies,” she lamented, “for I haven't the mind for any of it right now.”

“The brightest woman I know, unamused by her books?” Federico placed a hand over his heart in faux shock. “Dios mio. What has happened to you?”

“I don't know,” she sighed, resting her elbow on her desk and her cheek in her hand again. Federico leaned his hip against the edge of the table, peering over the scattered literature.

There was a moment’s pause and Y/N stared mindlessly at a flickering candle flame before Federico piped up again.  

“Ah, now I know.”

“What?” Y/N blinked and met his brown-amber eyes.

“You have been staring at pages for far too long, amica. I believe you need a change of pace.”

She quirked an eyebrow, unsure of what he might propose. God only knew with the Auditore boys. She resisted wincing when she remembered the time an afternoon stroll turned into a right trample across the countryside on horseback, and ended with Federico in a sling after he missed catching a beam leaping from his horse’s saddle and dislocated his shoulder. Luckily there was a doctor literally just around the corner to set it back in place, and after a scolding, a handful of small pills pressed into her palm, and the advice to “keep your husband out of trouble,” they walked (on foot) back to the palazzo. Needless to say, his father was not very pleased, and Y/N really didn’t need to deal with that again.

“Don't worry, my dear Y/N.” Federico brought her from her momentary reverie. “You won’t cease learning, but I believe experience is the best teacher.”

He held out a hand, bowed sweepingly, and looked up at her through his dark bangs. He must have noticed her hesitant gaze, because he stood straight again.

“Have I ever lied to you, tesoro?”

He guided her hands away from her desk with his, and leaned in to press a successfully distracting kiss to her mouth.

“I suppose not,” she sighed, and stood.

“Come, then,” Federico beckoned, picking up one of her light coats and guiding her to her door.

~

Their stroll started slowly enough, simply wandering with no apparent purpose, and chatting about the slightly frazzled tendencies of Y/N’s tutor. But then Federico eyed something across the street and strode over the cobblestone to stand before a weighted scaffold pulley system.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, but the only response she got was a grin. He stepped onto the platform, and reached with one hand up to the rope and for her waist with the other.

“Hold on tight,” he hummed in her ear before she could protest, and in a moment they were shooting up onto the rooftop. Her feet made the tile clink, and she feared falling, but Federico’s arm was steadying her shoulder.

“Bene?” he asked, and she nodded, unable to find anything to say.

“I enjoy the rooftops at night,” he commented as they strolled to an edge. “You can see so much of the sky, and less people bother you the higher you go.”

The pigeons that had gathered on the tile scattered as they drew closer, and Y/N was drawn forward by Federico’s strong arm as she began to linger.

“What are we doing?”

“Learning,” Federico responded. “Remember? It’s a simple jump.”

“You plan to jump?!” she exclaimed, and he nodded, pointing to a haystack on the grass below them.

“My father taught me. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Your father is mad. There’s no way I’m going to jump off a building, break my neck, and die. Who is supposed to finish my essay when I’m dead?”

Federico extended an arm to the ledge and took a short step. “I will show you.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not! I won’t have you breaking your neck and dying to prove some silly--” before she could finish, though, he’d taken another step and leapt, arms wide. She held her hands to her chest and peered over the roof to see him step calmly from the haystack after a moment, grin at her when she barked his name, and scale the building back up to her.

“See?” He turned for her to see every aspect of him was unscathed. “Perfectly safe.”

“What if I crush you?” she asked, taking a step back.

He laughed, stepping forward to keep the space between them close. “Piccolo uccello, do you really think you can crush me?”

“What if you crush me?!”

His hands rested gently on her arms, and he studied her eyes with a sincerity that wasn't there a moment prior.

“I promise you will be safe.”

She looked at him for a moment, knowing that he spoke truthfully, but still unsure about the whole thing. Slowly, his arms reached around her arms and her middle, and he pulled her into his chest as he stepped closer to the edge, and--

A strand of straw poked her cheek, and her heart thudded against her ribs, in time with her companion’s against her chest. As she blinked and breathed in the warm, musty air, a smile stole her lips. A laugh bubbled up in her chest, and escalated quickly.

Giggling madly, she clambered out of his arms and the haystack, clasping her hands at her chest. “That was exhilarating! Let’s go again!”

She rushed to the ladder again, but a chuckling Federico caught her waist and pulled her back. She whirled on him, ready to pry his hands free and jump herself, when he pointed to the rooftops. She followed his finger to see a guard stepping from a further rooftop to the building they’d just leapt off.

“Looks like that is over for today.”

Y/N deflated. “Back to the books, then.”

“Hold on just a moment, young lady, I didn’t say all was over!” he slung an arm over her shoulders and steered her in the opposite direction. “There are plenty more places to find fun, and with you here, it isn’t more than a look away.”

Her cheeks flushed, and suddenly she was very aware of the weight over her shoulders. “Nothing good ever happens after nightfall,” Y/N recited. “That’s what mother says.”

Federico clicked his tongue. “That is where I have to disagree with you, bella. There are plenty of good things that occur after dark. Or did your parents never speak with you about what happens when two people find--”

Y/N cut him off with a noise of disgust. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes, they did, and no, you don’t need to reiterate!”

Federico’s laugh echoed off the slowly emptying cobblestone street. She tried to shrink away, but that only drew him closer.

“I am only teasing,” he chuckled, and she crossed her arms over her chest indignantly, peering into his eyes, turned silvery by the moon. “Come, I meant what I said earlier. Simply point me in a direction and I will make sure you enjoy yourself.”

Despite the tendency he had to get her into ridiculous (and sometimes considerably compromising) situations, she knew he told the truth when he said she’d enjoy the experience. Everywhere she went with him, be it a short trip to an artist’s booth down the street to her house or a day-long excursion outside the walls of Firenze, she came home with a warm heart and a smile.

Maybe good things did happen after midnight.