#one of the first goth bands i got into was sisters of mercy

[archivedjuice]

many of you wouldn't know alternative if it bit you in the ass

[bookvvitch]

How To Make Two Lovers Of Friends

Words: 11,569

Synopsis:

Aizawa is taking a much-needed break after the war with Shigaraki and All For One. He isn't looking for anything in particular; that is, until he spots you in a goth themed coffee house. A whirlwind romance ensues in this one shot, filled to the brim with sexual tension, fluff, and smut.

Alternative/goth fem! Reader

Fair warning, this one is the first fic I'd ever written, so it isn't my best work. It does hold a special place in my heart though and I hope it's enjoyable for someone!

Morning light came dappled through the windows as you took your favorite seat at the coffee house, just like you did every morning to start your day. This coffee shop went by the name Bauhaus; probably a nonsequedor to most, but a familiar homage to a band for you. It had this witchy aesthetic, filled with books and old vinyls that made you feel at peace. You never really saw places like this when you still lived in America, at least not in your neck of the woods. How absolutely lucky that you lived just a few blocks away!

You ordered yourself the special for this month: The Headless Horseman, an iced pumpkin and caramel breve to celebrate the upcoming fall season, a welcome respite from the August heat. Smoothing away the creases on your black velvet dress, you thanked the barista, who you typically made small talk with but were not quite on a first name basis with just yet, and took your seat once again to finish reading your book. The leaves rattled in the wind outside and rapped against the building like old bones in a wooden sarcophagus.

"A storm is coming soon," you say quietly to yourself.

Gentle thunder thrums in the distance like the soft beating of a lambskin drum, and a small grin makes itself at home on your lips.

Perfect reading weather.

Adjusting yourself on the bench beneath your legs, your mouth curved at the edges, eliciting a slight hum from your lips. 

Ah. 

Spooky, scary peace.

Outside the confines of the coffee house, though, the weather was much less enjoyable. The heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic both trudged through heavy raindrops, soaked like wet dogs, caught off guard by the sudden change in weather. Aizawa scowled at his mess of dark hair getting drenched.

"Damn, this weather is nasty!" Said Mic, voice unintentionally booming.

He looked around and scouted for shelter as the thunder rolled, and settled on the closest bit of light he could see, pointing his finger at Bauhaus so as to motion for Aizawa to head that way.

They stopped at the overhang to dry off a bit before entering when Aizawa got a peek inside the shop. He took note of the band posters and bookshelves littering the walls, the violet-hued plants hanging from the ceiling and shelves, the generally alternative vibe that exuded from the place.

"I don't know, Hizashi," he stated hesitantly, shifting his weight to his good leg.

"What's the big deal? It's not like you'll look out of place," Hizashi was frank, opening the door with no apprehension. He gave a quick chuckle that sounded like taps on a hot microphone.

It was true, Aizawa typically dressed in all black. Now that he was taking a break, though, he didn't always have his capture weapon on him. He was instead accompanied by a patch over his eye and a prosthetic leg. He felt like he usually stood out like a sore thumb these days, which was problematic for someone who had always tried to keep such a low profile in the past.

Aizawa fiddled with his eyepatch and thought about how nice it would be to blend in once more. He had always tried to stay out of the spotlight, but after the intense battle with Shigaraki, it was harder to avoid the media. Maybe a place like this wasn't such a bad idea. He continued to zone out as Mic spoke much too loudly for the space they were in, as usual, and talked (mostly to himself) about if he should get a coffee or a smoothie.

Aizawa grew slightly embarrassed by his friend's actions as he looked around the room to see if his boisterous voice was bothering the other patrons. It was 6am, still early, so Bauhaus was lingering with the vestiges of sleep, waking with the rest of Musutafu. There was a green haired person on their laptop in the back corner, tucked away, uninvolved in the rest of the shop and seemingly unbothered. Empty seats. A full cup on a table that meant someone would be right back.

Then there was you.

Right beneath the window seat near the front of the shop, a purple vining plant hanging above you, crushed velvet bell sleeves rested upon the table as your fingers gripped the pages of a well-worn copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Your face was aglow like the moon, scattered with a few freckles that danced across rosy cheeks, long lashes that arched over your half-lidded eyes. The bass of the music swelling over the speakers seemed to engulf Aizawa, thumping in his head, your silken locks being brushed to settle behind your ear as his mouth suddenly dried.

Then, as if on que, you looked up at him just in time for him to hear "oh Lucretia, my reflection", and everything seemed to stand still. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips. You had these gorgeous doe eyes, these pouty little lips that gave a gamine smile to him while he held his gaze for much too long, he was sure of it. You were a vision. A blooming Queen Of The Night. A siren out in the storm.

"Quit staring at her and tell me what you want to drink!"

Aizawa was snapped out of his delusion. Flustered at the comment, he groaned, his eye twitching. Unwilling to break the eye contact with you just yet, your smile grew, and you exchanged glances with him again, causing pink heat to bloom over his face. You sat down your book and made your posture more swanlike as you maintained eye contact with him. His breath hitched at this.

You snuck looks at him for the rest of the time the two were in the shop. You weren't enough of a go-getter to approach him--nor were you brave enough to blatantly ask him out--but you really hoped that maybe he would come in again.

————

As mortified as he was by Mic's statement, he knew he had to try to see you again.

Not because he wanted to get to know you or anything.

No.

You just seemed... interesting. You seemed interesting and he felt very comfortable in Bauhaus. In fact, it probably had very little to do with you at all. He was more than likely just transferring these feelings of comfort onto you. After all, it's been a while since he's been able to go out and not feel like he was the one being stared at.

Yes.

This is rational.

This is why he needed to go back. You were just there by happenstance.

Every single weekday morning--and on weekends when he wasn't watching Eri--for an entire month, he was at the shop.

That's just how comfortable he was there. That's how good their plain black coffee was. That's what it meant to have a routine.

It was just a coincidence that he couldn't help but to notice you.

You were always there in that same cozy nook. Some days you were dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans. Some days you were in a plaid skirt and combat boots. Some days you were in a mossy green dress that went to the floor. Some days you wore causal yoga pants that were surely comfortable but made him sweat like a sinner in church. He never knew what exactly he would see you in next, but it was usually the same kind of style. And you always had a book to read, which Aizawa greatly admired. You were studious and attentive with your literature, but also a little bit goofy, judging by the laughter between you and the barista when you picked up your drinks.

But he had also come to find that you were very kind. Although you didn't appear to be a hero, you helped in other ways. You would pay for people's orders if they didn't have enough to cover their purchase. Twice, he watched you pay for the food of a homeless man, and then you sat with this man as an equal, outside on the curb, as the two of you ate breakfast sandwiches and talked. You were softspoken and gentle in your manner of speech, making him feel as though you were reading him to sleep as you talked between bites of food.

He noticed you had the biggest soft spot for animals, though.

You would watch out the window at around 6:15 to see if your little cat friend would show up that day. You would give them a drink of water from your own bottle and cap, offer them bits of bread and meat, and coo at them in a lovely sing-song voice as they ate. The cat didn't want to be touched, they were scarred and matted all to hell; but you were patient every single time. What a beautiful soul you seemed to have.

Aizawa was normally pessimistic, but you made him feel hopeful in humanity. He was certain that you had flaws, as people do, but your acts of kindness always made sure he had a good start to his day. He was always ready to protect you if you ever needed it. The world could use more good people, after all.

One morning in particular, as Aizawa picked up his drink, he noticed a man lazily stroll up to you at your regular nook. This happened to you every so often now that you were in Japan. You were approached by men, and very occasionally other women, maybe a handful of times in your entire life back in the United States. Your best guess is that here you were considered "exotic" since you looked different from most. You almost never saw someone with features like yours, and you were certainly taller than most of the women here, with noticeably longer limbs; all things that weren't exactly beauty standards in America but seemed to garner attention in Japan.

Unfortunately, the attention wasn't usually the kind that you enjoyed, and this guy was no different. He was dressed in an athletic shirt and basketball shorts. Not that you were one to judge, because hell, sometimes you showed up in pastels if the mood so struck you. People weren't bound to the confines of fashion. However, in your experience, men dressed in this clothing who came into Bauhaus tended to be... unsavory. Usually someone looking to fulfill their fetishes.

"Ooo, Cara Mia," he taunted as he approached you.

An Addams Family reference would have otherwise been right up your alley, but when he said the quote, it felt icky somehow. You knew he had to have kept this line in his back pocket regardless of who he came across, anyway. You were in a long sleeved sheer top with a lavender camisole and pair of black bell bottoms. More Stevie Nicks than Morticia Addams. So you did the rational thing and ignored him. You weren't there to be someone's Big Tiddy Goth Girlfriend.

He didn't like that much.

"Hey. I'm talking to you," he spat his words at you with barely concealed contempt.

"I heard you," you flicked your eyes up at him sharply.

Aizawa's body tensed in preparation to spring into action, taking a step forward in your direction. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

"I was just being nice. Not like anyone else is going to talk to your ugly old ass," his words were meant to bite at you, but you didn't budge.

"Old? Why, because I dared to live past 16? God, you are disgusting," you sat down your book and shook your head disapprovingly, "creeps like you are always projecting your own insecurities. How sad for you. Fuck off,"

He looked shocked, furious, like he was about to scream something in your face--but stopped abruptly when you started to hum. It was a haunting melody, something akin to a nocturne.

"I think you should go now," you stated plainly.

With this, the man walked out the door in what appeared to be a fugue-like state. And you calmly went back to your book.

Huh. Maybe you didn't need Aizawa's protection.

You just kept getting more and more intriguing.

On his fourth straight week of coming in, a Friday in early September, you decided to finally talk to him since it seemed like you were both regular patrons of the shop now. You made sure to finger-comb your hair before you turned to look at him. He was in his usual black on black sweatpants and sweatshirt, this time with his hair pulled back to reveal his jawline. He was very handsome, you thought.

"Hey there, you," you said after he placed his order of a single black coffee.

He turned around, a bit shocked at the sudden start of such a casual conversation.

"I see you in here a lot lately. I'm not sure if you have the time, but would you like to come sit with me?"

You smiled delicately in an attempt to seem welcoming.

"It would be nice to have some company for a change," you say.

His dark eye bore into you like a bullet coming straight for your gaze. After a moment of collecting his words, he finally settled on replying back:

"Yeah, sure. That would be fine,"

Aizawa tried his best to remain calm and cool, stoic even, refusing to let something so nonchalant shake him.

However, truth be told, you felt a bit shaken yourself. You weren't sure if he would accept your offer or reject it and then stop coming in. You could be so straightforward sometimes, and you felt like you could accidentally make things awkward. But you had a feeling he might at least be interested in getting to know you after your initial interaction with him.

You introduce yourself as you stirred your latte with a tiny silver spoon.

"Shota Aizawa," he gave in return.

"Nice to finally meet you," you say with a slight tease in your inflection and a mischievous look.

A blush crept across his face. God, of course you remembered when you two first saw one another. It felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles thinking about it.

"Do you like sitting under the stars?" You ask to cut the silence.

Aizawa looked perplexed. It seemed like an odd thing to ask him. Maybe you liked the outdoors?

"I've never actually been camping. Never really seemed that fun to me," he was eager to continue talking to you, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

You had this glint in your eye, like you knew the punchline to a joke you hadn't even told yet, along with a playful smile. Setting down your cup, you pointed up. That's when he noticed that the ceiling was matte black and painted with silver glittering stars.

"It's one of my favorite things about coming here," you disclosed this information to him, almost as if it were a secret.

It was then that he knew for sure that you weren't like most people.

You two met like this, discussing books and hobbies and music, for another month and a half. Every morning at 6am you could expect to see him waiting at Bauhaus for you, rain or shine. You would get some kind of breve or latte and he would get a strongly brewed black coffee. Sometimes you spoke for an hour before one of you had to go, sometimes you two were there until you were both hungry for lunch. Although the days all started at Bauhaus, occasionally, the day would take the two of you to a nearby ramen shop, a corner store, or a short walk down the block. Anywhere you wanted to go, he was there.

————

He now knew that you liked horror movies and would read just about anything you could get your hands on, that you loved animals, you moved here two years ago to help with the mental health crisis in Japan as a grief counselor, and you thoroughly enjoyed humor.

You came to know that he liked cats, was a teacher, liked the smell of rain, he was generally pretty introverted, read comic books as a kid, and had a liking for dark jokes. He had mentioned that he was a hero, a pro hero actually, when the shop was empty one morning. You said that was "so cool" and beamed with pride that you knew him, but you seemed unfamiliar with the Erasure Hero.

You continued to treat him exactly the same.

This was mesmerizing to Aizawa.

Today was one of the days that stretched on like a sleeping cat in a sunny patch. You'd already met once in the morning, breaked for work, and then met again in the late evening. The golden-hour sun was pouring in its warm light, backing you like some kind of seraphem, and painting him in a spreading halo of honeyed peach. The way the flecks of rainbow from the slanted glass flitted over his skin bewitched you.

And you, there at your place, drenched in marigold light that kissed down upon your flawless skin, made him shudder. Your eyes nearly glowed in the light. You appeared fragile, breakable, like spun glass; though he knew you were sturdier than your languid demeanor would let on.

He stuffed down the feelings he was starting to have for you like a snake eating a too large mouse. This was more than just lust, infatuation, or attraction. As scary as it was, he liked you. The butterflies stirred in his belly when you called his name from your window nook and the moths fluttered in yours when he said "I thought I might find you here, y/n," with the slightest upturn of his mouth. You were both nervous about this tension that was building between the two of you, but he was more reserved, whereas you tended to wear your heart on your sleeve. You knew that you would have to be the one to address it.

"Aizawa," you say to him, circling the rim of your cup with your fingertip as you place your other hand in front of his on the table, "I have some errands to run tomorrow... would you maybe want to come with me? It can be hard for me to carry heavy things all the way into my place on my own, and I really want to get some pumpkins to carve,"

This seemed utilitarian enough that he might feel more at ease accepting the invitation, but still deliciously domestic.

Aizawa felt the breath leave his lungs. Going to a pumpkin patch? Carving pumpkins? Like a cute little date?

"You don't have to, if you don't have the time," you stated reassuringly.

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," His voice broke as he uttered out an answer, "I can go. I'll make the time if I don't have it,"

"Great! Can we meet up around 10?"

"I'll be there,"

"You always are,"

The air hung around the two of you with a lightness for a few seconds. Aizawa could see his reflection in your big glass-like eyes, causing his heart to beat wildly in his chest. You gave a small laugh, crinkling your nose, very aware of the closeness of your faces. He felt like maybe he should kiss you. But did you even like him that way? You could just be friendly and kissing you would be a huge mistake. Everything would come crashing down if he did that. Your trust would be gone. You would be gone. He couldn't take that risk.

But oh, how you wanted him to lean in and touch his lips to your own. You wondered how his stubble would feel against your skin, and if he would taste like that black coffee he was always sipping on. A knot formed in your stomach, this familiar aching, a longing, a fear of the unknown feelings he had for you, and excitement that he might feel the same way. How long had it been since you felt this way? Was it ever this intense?

You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your heart racing. You could feel that something was bubbling up. Something was about to happen. You were going to lean in closer when the door to the coffee house flew open, and in walked Hizashi.

"I thought I'd find you here, Eraser! You sure love this place lately!" His voice nearly shook the entryway.

Tension gone.

Goodbye, mood.

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fully aware that Mic was about to say something daft.

"Watcha got here?" Mic asked enthusiastically, gesturing toward you with a gloved hand, "Shota, do you have a girlfriend you never told me about?"

Fucking Mic.

Aizawa looked pale, sick even.

Of course he wanted you to be his girlfriend. Especially when he was about to go to sleep, or saw some stuffed animal he knew you would like, or when he was in the shower and thinking of how he'd like to see those sultry eyes looking up at him as you put your mouth on his...

"Hizashi, for someone who's entire Quirk is based on sound, you are so damn tonedeaf," Aizawa cut his thoughts loose with this retort.

"Woah, easy there," Mic continued, "I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. If you guys aren't hooking up, how about I shoot my shot then?" He waggled his brows at you.

Aizawa gritted his teeth and his eye twitched. Like a deer in the headlights, stunned at this brazen show of complete and total assclownery, he sat still in his seat as Hizashi made fools of them both. The lanky devil just didn't know when to stop tap dancing on his last nerve.

Present Mic leaned over the table as you furrowed your brow in response.

"Wanna see why they call me Magic Mic?" He gave a wide grin with this question.

You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

"Why, did I pique your interest when you saw me bathing on the roof? Did my beauty and the moonlight overthrow you?"

"Bathing on the roof, you say!" Another waggle.

"Careful there, Sisyphus. That boulder's heavier than it looks," you chime back, scribbling something on a napkin.

Aizawa was amused at your quip. It was impressive how quick on your feet you were in conversation, and how well you handled yourself. He knew that Mic was blabbering on in the background, something about alternative chicks and their spicy attitudes, but he couldn't concentrate on anything other than you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Aizawa," you stated while getting up from your seat, "here's my number. Text me and I'll send you my address so you can meet me at my place, okay?"

Aizawa swallowed the lump in his throat and then nodded in agreement. He took the napkin in his hand and noticed you put a little heart next to your number.

Fuck.

Please let this be a date.

————

The next morning, at 10am sharp, Aizawa reached the front door to your apartment. He didn't even need to look at the number when he saw the fall wreath, covered in leaves and mini pumpkins, suspended from its metal hook. He slicked back his raven hair with his palms, attempting to keep his locks captured in a ponytail, all the while his stomach churned in anticipation. He gave a knock at the door, and you were there almost immediately. Had you been waiting for him?

In reality, yes, you had been. You were ready by 9:30 and then paced around your room before you sat by the door and waited for him to show up. You gave him a big grin as you greeted him, admiring his forearms with his sleeves rolled up. You looked him over, half covered in the shade of your awning, hair pulled back, his trim figure cut well in his dark jeans and gray sweater. Oh my god, he even shaved! That was so cute to you. He shaved for your pumpkin patch adventure. You swooned and felt that tension in your belly build back up. It made you feel like a teenager again, having a crush like that. You kicked at some rocks on your porch in a bashful display.

God how he wanted to put his hands on you when he saw you stepping out of your doorway. You were wearing a burnt orange sundress, a black cardigan with pumpkins lining the bodice, thigh high black pantihose, with black Mary Janes and a wide-brimmed felt hat. You always knew what flattered your figure, what colors brought out your eyes and complimented your skintone. He felt so typical, like such a stereotype, because that sundress was doing something for him.

"You okay with me driving?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He tensed at the prospect of being touched by you, and nodded in agreement. Grabbing your keyfob, you pressed twice to start your vehicle, a completely black car with darkly tinted windows. It was very bold, very dark, and very you.

"You can mess with the volume however you'd like. I don't mind," you told him as you started flipping through your music on the car's touchscreen radio.

Aizawa took note of how eclectic your music was. You seemed to like songs with lots of bass and rumble, and you listened to plenty of Sisters of Mercy, but you also had music that took him off guard: hyper-pop, musical numbers, heavy metal--a smorgasbord of songs on a hodgepodge of a playlist. He could never quite pin you down. As soon as he thought he knew your next move, you pulled an Uno Reverse card, and it was enthralling. He liked a challenge.

He was captured by you as you settled on Love Me by The 1975 and enthusiastically sang along to every word, miming exaggerated faces when the beat picked up. You rolled the windows down and threw your hat in the back seat to feel the wind through your hair.

You glanced over at him briefly as you sang, smiling, glowing, just letting loose with him in a way that felt more intimate than he would've imagined a car ride could feel. Your hair flipped, twisting around your face in the breeze.

He noticed how careful you were with your car, how gingerly you braked at stoplights, and joked "I think my grandpa might actually drive faster than you do,"

"Hey," you replied "I pay a lot of money for this car," you felt a bit embarrassed tagging on the next part of "besides.. it's important to follow traffic laws."

He couldn't help but admire how pragmatic you were about this. You were so soft. Willing to stand up for yourself, but always making sure everyone else was safe. You had a hero heart.

You went back to singing to music, this time Can't Hold Me by Emily King. You always seemed so in your element when music was involved.

"You have a really nice voice," Aizawa stated without thinking. It rolled off of his tongue in an easy sort of way that didn't normally come naturally to him.

"Oh, thanks. It's part of my quirk I guess,"

"You have a quirk?" It was more of a statement than a question. He was pretty positive he'd already seen your quirk in action.

"Well, yeah; but I don't use it much. It's one of those quirks that when you tell people about it they think you're a villain," your voice trailed off a bit and he looked at you with one raised brow.

A sigh escaped your lips.

"If I sing a certain melody, I can make people do whatever I want. They become really pliable and easy to manipulate. But I can only use it on one person at a time, and it's only the one song, and you would know if I was using it," you tried your best to make sure he knew you weren't using it to make him talk to you, or to make him come with you today.

"Quirks are what you make of them. And I don't think that you would ever purposefully hurt someone, y/n. You're better than that,"

On impulse, upon parking the car at the pumpkin patch, you grabbed his hand with Eat Sleep Wake by Bombay Bicycle Club playing softly in the background. The first real physical contact you two had that wasn't accidental. It was warm, and sweet, and electric. Breathing felt like there was a weight on your chest when you realized what happened, and it caught in your throat when he squeezed your hand back.

Eat.

Sleep.

Wake.

Nothing but you.

God, please just kiss me, you thought. Kiss me. Better yet, take me into this pumpkin patch and peel these pantihose off with your teeth. You were getting to the point where all of this constant winding you up had you wanting him to fuck you absolutely stupid.

Aizawa felt warm, feverish. Like he was going to melt through the seat of the car and burn to cinders on the ground. He was smoldering like a pile of ash in your hand. Goddamn it was hard to concentrate now. Where was he at? Was there a world around the two of you? Did he even care? He wasn't sure if it was right to think of you like this, though, and it happened nearly every day since meeting you. That part of him had been lying dormant for what felt like years and now suddenly these feelings were coming for him with a vengeance. He wasn't sure what to do.

"We should.. we should grab some pumpkins. Do you... like the lumpy ones?"

Shit. Did he really just ask you that? God, you must have thought he was stupid.

But you didn't. You were eating this up.

"Dude. I love me a lumpy pumpkin," was your reply.

The two of you took in the crisp autumn air and October's bright blue sky as you sipped on a warm apple cider from the drink stand. Much to his initial disapproval, you finally got him to take a sip from your cup. His heart skipped a beat drinking from the same spout where your mouth had been just a few seconds prior. You took two small pumpkins from the display they had on top of some hay bales, slipped them into a big burlap tote bag, and then headed to the field to pick out bigger pumpkins for carving.

"Do you think frogs have friends?"

"I... what?"

He wasn't sure if you were being genuine with this question.

"Well, cows make friends, and.. I don't know, I was just thinking about how maybe when frogs start to get ready for the cold weather, they find another frog that they like, and then they hibernate next to them in the mud," your statement was matter-of-fact, "or I guess technically the frogs we have here go into a state of topor, not full hibernation. But still,"

Aizawa was taken aback at this topic. You were actually wondering about the loneliness of amphibians.

"Y/n, I don't think frogs get lonely. I doubt they have high enough brain functioning to care,"

"Or maybe they do, and we'll never know, because nobody stopped to find out,"

He enjoyed that you always spoke your mind. Even if someone didn't like what you had to say, you just started a conversation based on whatever thoughts you had in your head. You were smart, but whimsical. It was so easy to talk to you and have a logical dialogue without feeling like it was getting stale.

You kicked at rocks, marveled at the fall leaves, and had this general sense of wonder. Aizawa found it fascinating how dichotomous you were. You were kind of mysterious, but you still had this youthful charm about you. He found himself to be more apathetic than anything. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't see the beauty in the things around him, he just didn't tend to pay attention at all. He was always burning the candle at both ends and pushing himself to his absolute limits, so what was the point? Who cared of frogs had friends?

"I wish I shared your passion for life," he commented.

"My grandparents were like this, and they raised me, so I guess it rubbed off. Actually, they're kind of why I came here. My grandpa always spoke about how beautiful Okinawa was. After they passed, I jumped at the opportunity to come see Japan for myself,"

You hadn't talked about anything that wasn't skin deep in what seemed like an eternity, and you felt like he was really listening, processing your words.

"Oh!" You stopped in your tracks, "I can't believe I forgot to give you this,"

From the bottom of your burlap sack, you pulled out a bag of salty black licorice.

"This is for you,"

His favorite snack.

Aizawa reached out his hand and took it delicately, as if it were precious to him.

"How did you know?"

"I saw you eyeing some once at a corner store. When I saw they had some here, I had to get it for you. They make it in house, so I bet it's delicious!" You sounded so excited over a bag of licorice.

Feeling a bit silly over frogs and candy, you blushed, cheeks already slightly ruddy from all of the walking.

"But we should probably go back to picking out some pumpkins, I guess," your words came out much smaller than you intended them to.

His heart swelled. You were paying attention to him, too.

The gourds were all shapes and sizes, all the colors from striking persimmon to pale yellow, from perfectly round to as lumpy as the night was long.

Clearly, you picked the lumpiest.

Loading your goods into the car, a flash of color at another stand caught Aizawa's eye.

"You stay here. I'll be right back," he commanded.

"Okay. Just let me know if you want any help,"

The stand was full of handmade trinkets: wooden hair combs, decorative mirrors with widdled handles, and silk kimonos. One garment stood out to him--emerald green with goldenrod flowers patterned over it--that, for some reason, made him think of frogs. This would do nicely.

Upon his return, he found that he really wasn't sure how to give you a gift. This was certainly not his forte. He couldn't even remember the last time he gave someone a present. Then again, he couldn't recall that last time he had received one before this day, either. Besides, you were worth the uncomfortability.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't form. You looked slightly amused, which made him even more nervous.

"I have something for you. To repay you for the gift you gave me earlier," his voice uttered out much smaller than he remembered.

The joy that spread from cheek to cheek was practically tangible for him as he handed you the paper bag. Your eyes were alight like fireworks.

"You got me a present?"

You felt a fluttering in your chest. You didn't even care what it was, he explicitly thought of you, and that made you happy in earnest.

The container was compact enough that you figured there was some kind of candy to be retrieved from it, but you opened it to see green and yellow fabric. You were stunned when you recognized it from the stand you two had passed on your way out. It had to have been expensive.

"Aizawa.. this is too much. I-I can't accept this," you stammered.

"Yes you can. Like I said, it's for the licorice,"

"This isn't exactly in the same category as candy, though, I--"

"Just try it on," he interrupted you, his hand raised as if to stop any further protesting.

And you thought about protesting--you really did--but caved, knowing he wouldn't give up until you accepted it. Your attempts to dispute his gift would be futile. So you marveled at the silk garment, feeling its slick material between your fingers. You'd never owned something like this before. You took off your cardigan and draped the kimono over your body, savoring how soft and airy it was on your skin, feeling like a princess.

"I'm not sure if this is a color you like, so if you don't like it, we can go exchange it," his voice had a hushed tone.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"No. No, it's perfect. I absolutely love it. Thank you so much, this was so sweet of you," your words rang out like a bell.

The breeze picked up and blew the soft locks of your hair as you stood there in your gown, picturesque, cottony clouds lining the skies.

You looked like a painting.

"Alright then," you said with vigor, "takoyaki is on me!"

————

When you returned home, you carved Aizawa's pumpkin together (a very classic orange pumpkin, perfect for Jack O Lanterns), swatting your cats off of the counter as they came to sniff at the seedy innards laid out on a sheet of parchment paper. You felt at home like this. You felt safe, content, like this is how life was meant to be.

You watched him as he placed the carved Jack O Lantern out on your porch, and took notice of the strands of raven hair that were falling out of his messy bun, delicately sweeping over his strong jaw and neck. The knot in your stomach returned, and with it came a sensation like you were on the downhill slope of a rollercoaster. It was a feeling of passion welling up inside of you, ready to tear open at your seams.

And you wanted more.

You wanted him to want you.

Worried that he might go home now that the sun had set, you asked if he would want to watch a movie with you. He was elated at the idea of cuddling up with you on the couch. How could he say no to that?

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever watched Hocus Pocus?"

"No, never heard of it,"

"What?! It's a Halloween classic! I'll change into some house clothes and then we'll get started. Be right back, Shota,"

A chill ran down his spine, prickling the back of his neck at the sound of you saying his name. You called him Shota. And now you were comfortable enough with him to change into pajamas. He felt almost floaty.

Aizawa was expecting you to come out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, something comfy, something plain. He enjoyed the prospect of you coming out in soft pants and fuzzy socks. There was something so heartwarming and cozy about it that he--holy fucking shit.

You came out, as casual as humanly possible, in a pair of tiny little sleeping shorts and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt with no bra. The shirt was soft, but snug, and showed off every curve of your body through the semi-sheer fabric. He had already gotten a good look (or ten) at your ass in a nice pair of pants, but this.. were you trying to kill him? You were already all legs, and now the shorts... Aizawa scanned your body to see that you were wearing stockings that hugged your legs and made divots in the plush flesh of your upper thighs. They were Ninja Turtle green and woven like a tubesock.

Of course you were wearing these fuck me socks. That way, you could definitely say that you were completely covered from head to toe, that these were normal house clothes. Nothing here but regular old pajamas. And look, see, you totally did like green!

Your couch was small, but Aizawa sat on one end, hoping that you would sit alllll the way on the other end so that he could curl up as much as possible and you wouldn't see... things. But you weren't having it. You wanted to be able to cut the tension with a knife. You wanted to make sure this sexual frustration was palpable until it drove him to action. So you snuggled up next to him and rested your head on his chest.

He took notice that the shorts nearly disappeared when you sat down, and thought about what they might look like if you were bending over. Your tits looked great through your clothes, but your ass drove him wild. He wished for the TV to mess up somehow so you would have to get down on all fours to fix it, maybe even spread your legs just enough that your sex would peek over the side of the material, sopping and messy and begging for him.

Oh lord Jesus, Vishnu, Thor, whoever the fuck was up there just give him strength. Give his waistband extra elasticity and give his poor heart a rest so that maybe you wouldn't hear it pounding through his chest. But you did hear it. You knew exactly what you were doing when you placed your hand on his thigh and traced your fingertips down to his knee while you stared ahead at the TV screen.

Under the guise of laughing at a witch riding a vacuum cleaner, you squeezed his leg, and he jumped in his seat.

Oh.

This was torture for him.

And you liked that.

A lot.

He made a pathetic attempt to stealthily lean into you, just enough so that he could get a better whiff of your hair. You smelled like vanilla and something a little floral and spicy, like a jasmine rice desert. The thought crossed his mind that you might taste just as sweet.

"Doing okay, Shota?" Your voice this time was chesty, sensual, almost like an invitation rather than a question, and you could feel him shudder in response.

There it was again. Shota. He fucking loved the way his name dripped from your lips like honey. He nodded in agreement and you patted his leg to let him know you felt the nod.

You could feel your shorts heating up and your breathing changing pace when you heard him let out little sputters of air at your touch. It was intoxicating, hearing him get excited, smelling the sweat building between the two of you in this blissful hell of your own making.

Small beads of liquid made a wet spot up near his waistband while he took in your body heat, trying his best to focus on the screen and not the friction of you against him, or the fact that he could see your nipples plainly through your shirt. Readjusting yourself, you stretched and let out a whine in the process, and your elbow brushed up against something in his lap.

With a quick grunt, he stood up suddenly, and said "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back,"

You gave him an "okay", and paused the movie for him. Maybe it was just in your imagination, but you could swear you saw a tent in his pants when he got up.

What you wouldn't give to toy with him for just a little while longer.

He shuts the door behind him slowly, calmly, before he's pawing at the buttons of his pants. A curse leaves his lips as he wrestles his leaking member from the confines of his boxers. 

"Little fucking cocktease," he grits, burying the words into his lower lip. 

God, he just couldn't take it anymore. He thought about you moaning, whining, mewling into his ear, your bodies entangling. How would he take you? If he had the option, he thinks he'd really like to watch you ride his cock, see the look on your face when you take all of him inside of you.

"Gonna have you begging for it. Fuck, do you even know what you do to me?" His voice trails into a groan, and he folds forward, bucking into his hand and holding onto the sink to steady himself.

A few whispers of your name fall from his lips, and he swipes at the slit of his aching length, smearing his precum along his shaft for lubrication. He's close. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, he's already feeling that knot within him frayed, about to snap. Just a few more strokes and he's jerking back his head, ropes of his release now dripping across his palm.

He finished in record time, expecting to have a sense of relief, but only finding that he craved more. Guilt took ahold of him when the thought crossed his mind that he shouldn't be thinking of you this way. This was so shameful, what he just did, making his hand all sticky from thinking of you. He rinsed his face with cool water to get rid of some of the sweat, and exited, stating that he needed to head home due to not feeling well.

Your heart sank, and the realization hit you that you may have made him uneasy with your forwardness. Maybe he didn't like you that way after all. You hoped that you hadn't just ruined things between the two of you.

Aizawa didn't want to hurt your feelings, and he could tell that he probably did; but he needed to get out of your apartment before he bent you over the couch.

So he left your place after an entire 12 hours together, beating himself up for not making a move, harboring resentment for his own lack of initiative. He was used to coming after villains, but this whole "love" thing really scared him. Love? He mulled the word over in his head. Worried it between his teeth. You two hadn't spent a single day without seeing each other in like two months. And he sure as hell didn't see himself picking out pumpkins with Hizashi any time soon.

He laid there in bed, trying his best to fall asleep, but the day just replayed in his head on a loop. His mattress was normally soft and welcoming, something that could easily lull him to sleep, but tonight it felt empty. Tonight, he felt alone. Until his phone buzzed from his nightstand.

You: is it too soon to text you?

Him: it's never too soon for you to talk to me.

You: good :) I was worried when you left in such a hurry.

You: and I miss you already.

Aizawa sat up in bed after reading your most recent message. You... missed him. He wasn't sure if he was reading that right. The blue light from his phone illuminated his face, now standing apart from the inky blackness of his room. He could feel you radiating from it.

Him: maybe you should stop by my place tomorrow afternoon then.

You: I'd really like that.

You: good night, Shota. <3

Him: see you soon.

————

He made sure to take care of himself in the shower before the next afternoon, not wanting a repeat of the previous night. Best case scenario, now he would last longer if you two ended up fooling around. He even double checked that Eri was in the dorms at UA again today. That was just wishful thinking, though. Sex these days would probably only come from pity for him. Poor washed-up hero, missing an eye, missing a leg. That's the last thing he needed right now.

He cleaned up around his apartment, wiping down the counters and making the area look welcoming for you. Why did he want to impress you so badly? Ugh, this was so embarrassing. He never worried about what people thought of him in any other scenario, but now, here he was, fluffing his brand new throw pillows and applying cologne to his neck and chest.

You knocked on the door, straightening the skirt of your dress, the same one you were wearing the morning you two first met. Aizawa answered the door in a gray t-shirt and black sweatpants, his hair loose and his eyes heavy-lidded when he looked down at you. That dress again. Clingy, short, nipped at the waist to show off your curves. Christ, you were beautiful. He welcomed you in, the smell of bergamot wafting from him.

His apartment was bigger than yours by quite a bit. It had a floating island in the kitchen, slate colored walls, a black sectional positioned in the living room atop a white shag rug, and circular lights that were recessed within the ceiling.

"Wow, your place is so nice. Shit. I'm sorry I made you come to my hovel last night," you partially joked, impressed with how well his home was put together.

"That's stupid. I liked being at your place,"

You saw something moving out of the corner of your eye through the doorway of the other room.

"Is that a punching bag?" You asked with a wry smile.

"Gotta keep myself in shape. Want to give it a go?" His voice was low, almost challenging you to take him up on the offer.

"Oh, I don't know. I lift weights but I don't really do a lot of cardio. I'd just end up humiliating myself, honestly," you said sheepishly.

"Come on, y/n, spar with me. I'll go easy on you,"

"Okay, okay," you gave in and walked toward the next room, which you could see upon closer inspection was full of gym equipment. You felt out of your element, but you were willing to make yourself look like a fool if it meant he was enjoying himself.

You gave the bag a light punch as Aizawa held onto it, half afraid that you would mess it up somehow, or maybe even break your damn hand. It felt like it was full of some kind of particulate. Maybe sand? Oh god, you probably looked like some kind of lazy sack, not even knowing how to punch a fucking bag.

"I know you can do better than that. You've got more power in you. Come on,"

You punched again.

"Harder. Don't hold back!" He growled.

That was really fucking sexy, actually, and now you were a little distracted. You balled your hand into a fist, made sure your thumb was facing outside, and used all of this pent up frustration to wallop the daylights out of the bag. Your knuckles made contact with a padded thud, and you let out a small grunt.

"Atta girl," he praised you, his voice like whisky.

God, hearing him say that was like a dopamine hit. You were disoriented. You were already clumsy, and now your brain felt like a can of cranberry sauce splattered out onto a plate.

Aizawa stepped away from the bag, a terse expression plastered onto his face.

"Now act like I'm coming after you and try to pin me. Remember, it doesn't matter that I'm bigger than you. Use strategy to overpower me,"

You mustered up all of your strength, all of your courage, and leapt toward his torso. He didn't try to block you, so you knew he was going easy on you... but you also knew you didn't do it right when you went off to the side and started to veer straight for the wall. He grabbed you by both wrists and wedged himself between your legs in order to cushion your fall, and you landed upright, straddling him as he lay on his back.

You were both panting, eyes dilated, a wildness boiling within you like animals. He let go of your wrists and your hands softly found their rest on his chest as it heaved.

"Y/n," he laughed, "that was awful,"

You rolled your eyes and shifted your weight into less of a stiff position.

"I told you I was bad at this. I am a lover, not a fighter," you pressed your hand to your chest as you spoke. 

Moving ever so slightly on top of him, you saw his eye widen, his lips parted to let a small gasp escape from them. Panic has set in. 

"Get up. Please," his tone is highly-strung and fearful.

He looks genuinely terrified, scrambling beneath you, the only reason you're still in his lap like this due to his apprehension to hurt you by accident.

"Shota, wha--" your question is cut off by the feeling of something poking against your clothed sex.

Oh. 

Oh.

A red hue painted his entire face at the realization of the situation he was in, his blood pulsing through his body rapidly, the sound of it rushing in his ears.

"Why," you said breathily "don't you want me?"

Overstimulated, his brain didn't process what you'd just said to him.

Your lungs feel like they're about to lunge straight out of your chest, your core aching to be filled. You'll have to make sure that he really gets the point. Now was the time to be honest with him, maybe even be a little dirty. It's now or never.

"I want to know.. I mean.." talking felt hard. Your blood supply seemed starved from your brain.

"Do you touch yourself when you think of me?"

He was trembling like a leaf beneath you, caged in by the plush of your thighs. Was this a trick question? Yes, he just fucked himself to you this morning, AND last night in YOUR bathroom. Is that what he was supposed to say? He swallowed thickly, clamoring to gather up some kind of sentient thought to say to you.

"I do," you filled the gap of silence, "I think of you that way. A lot, actually,"

You ground your pelvis up and down his length, the fabric of his pants rough against him, eliciting a grunt through his gritted teeth.

"I.. f-fuck, I-I dunno how to.. answer that," he's been reduced to this mumbling mess on the floor, that silver tongue suppressed by the sweet press of your warmth to his cock.

You took his shaking hand and placed it between your thighs, right on the dampness that was spreading at your center, sopping through what little material covered them. 

"I want you, Shota. I want you bad," your words were like poetry spouting from your lips.

He rubbed you through your wet panties, soaked and clinging to you like a second skin. Were you this wet for him? He delights in the way your breath hitches, how you squirm atop him, your eyes heavy and lustful. Shota gives one last languid stroke up the lace and then pulls them to the side for easier access to your clit. He rubs light circles around it and watches you writhe, taking in the noises you were making, so painfully hard he felt as though he would cum in his pants just from watching you. He stopped his teasing and placed both hands on your hips, the pair of you frenzied for more.

You crashed your lips to his, both of you giving in to a hungry kiss, passionate and blistering with heat, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him into you, starved for his taste. He keened into your touch as if it would soon disappear. Leaving the rough stubble of his cheeks only to grab a handful of his mussed hair, you tugged at it, causing him to moan into your mouth, and you swallowd down each noise greedily. He explored your body with haste, grabbing your ass, sinking the pads of his fingers into your skin. You could feel him throbbing underneath you, so you palmed him through his pants, and with a swift jerk, he threw his head back onto the floor, not even caring to register the pain of it.

"Fuck. Y/n. If you keep going..."

You tugged at the waist of his pants, then dragged featherlight touches across his exposed cock teasingly. He felt you smile against his skin as you nuzzled the crook of his neck, and he lets out a muffled groan that tapered off into a high-pitched whine, desperate and needy.

He let out an involuntary whimper, almost pitiful with how much yearning was within it.

"You gonna cum for me already? Hmm?"

That was it.

He couldn't fucking take it anymore.

Something within him snapped and a growl poured from him, rumbling up from somewhere deep in his chest.

With hurried hands, he pulls your dress over top your head, revealing that you were wearing nothing but lacy black panties underneath. You were stunning. Like a Greek statue of Aphrodite herself. He was never able to fully imagine your naked form before, and this was a perfect frame of reference for later. He wanted nothing more than to get absolutely drunk off of you. And he gets you all to himself. He can't hardly believe his luck.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," his voice was raw and saturated with desire, a gravel to it, burning like whisky.

"I want you to touch me," you murmur, suddenly feeling shy in the sweltering heat of his gaze.

"Touch you?" Aizawa said with a chuckle, "I'm going to devour you,"

Before you were given the chance to react, he bucked into you, then slid you from his lap and onto the floor, gripping your underwear and throwing them off on your way down. He took off his shirt expeditiously to reveal his muscular form, and you admire the lines that bisect his abdomen, eyes nearly rolling into your skull when they land at the tent in his pants. He looks big. Like, concerningly big. You ran your fingers across the scars on his chest, which gave an almost tickling sensation, all the way down to the hair that trailed from his naval to his pants. He was beautiful. So fit that he looked like he could play himself in a movie.

Casting the clothing aside, he lays you flat onto the floor, kissing from your lips, to your neck, to your nipple where he sucked and flicked his tongue, using his free hand to caress the other, groping hungrily at your plush flesh. You moaned, breathy and meek, at his touch. Separating from you, his pupil was blown out as your pheromones hit him in the face, and he pulled your legs apart to fully expose you.

"Look at your pretty little pussy,"

He slipped a digit inside of you and did a curling motion until he found the spot that made you whimper underneath him, watched as your face went from shocked to a look of pleading for more, lashes fluttering.

He clicked his tongue.

"And look at you. So fucking needy. So ready for me to take you,"

He removed his finger and used it to play with your clit, making waves of pleasure shoot through your body, a white-hot coil tightening in your core just above where he was touching.

"Sh-Shota... please, fuck me," you begged, nearly mewling.

He hissed through his teeth, peering down at you as if you were prey. The look on his face is wolfish, starving, nearly pained to be holding himself back. There's a wilderness within him that begs to be let loose. You want nothing more than to be destroyed by it, left a carnal mess upon the floor. 

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until you can't even sit without thinking of me," he taps your clit with his fingertips, "But first, I'm going to make you cum on my tongue," he was serious with his words, meticulous, making sure you knew exactly what he had planned for you. Sweet, slow burning anticipation sent tingles up and down your spine.

He put your legs on his shoulders and went back to the spot inside of you that made you cry, this time sucking on your clit in tandem, fully encapturing it within his lips. Your mouth was now agape in a breathy scream as you clamp down on his fingers, moving your hips in time with him, riding waves of pleasure as he brings you closer to the edge. He lets out an appreciative groan as you say his name, the noises coming out of you so lewd and sinful that you hope the neighbors don't call someone for a wellness check.

Aizawa absentmindedly pressed himself against the floor, nearly frantic for some kind of touch while he watched you squirming beneath him, but it does little to quell the ache he has in his center. You tasted like sweet tarts and made these lustful gasps, and it drove him absolutely mad to know he was doing that to you, that these reactions were from his own touch.

"Say my name," he speaks this phrase into the throbbing bud at your apex, and you shiver, close to careening off of the edge he'd just brought you to. 

"Shota.. fuck, keep going, please," you mewl, rolling your hips. 

He nips at your inner thigh, velvet flesh pillowing between his teeth, and then drags the length of his tongue up your clit in one torturously long stroke. 

"Louder. I want everyone to know who's about to make you cum," the steel in his gaze is sharp enough to slice you. 

So you oblige him, moaning his name, chanting it like a mantra as he continues to lap at you once more. You can feel the pressure building, building, building until it finally spills over like a dam. He moans at the realization, feeling your pussy spasm under his tongue.

"Oh my god.. Oh fuck, Shota!" You cry out for him as you melt into his mouth.

He's breathless as he pulls himself away from you, mouth slick, still slipping his fingers in and out of you in an allowance to ride out the rest of your orgasm. He looks feral. Like he could tear into you. Destroy you.

He drags his cheek across your thigh.

"Good girl," he grunts, "good fucking girl,"

You look up at him with your mouth partially open, your eyes heavy with want, and with one fell swoop you sit up and pull down his sweatpants to reveal his throbbing cock, wet and dripping from the tip. You take the whole thing into your mouth, sucking, swirling your tongue, cranking your hand around his shaft like you're ready to milk the soul straight out of him. He gasps, moving his hips to pump into your mouth as you open wider, holding out your tongue so you can take in as much of his length as possible. He brought you closer until you were practically flush against him, all the while you were committing the look on his face to memory.

You can tell this is about to break him, so you tighten your grip in a pulsating pattern, moaning on his length to send vibrations through him. His movements are becoming erratic, fervent, and you cannot fucking wait to see him come apart at your doing. You run the flat of your tongue across a particularly sensitive spot along his shaft, your arousal building once more when you see the way he pinches his brows together, how he ruts into your mouth like some inexperienced virgin. You just feel too fucking good.

Suddenly, he pulls himself from your mouth with a vulgar pop, and you're gasping for sweet breaths of air after some of the sloppiest head you've given in your life.

"I knew you'd be good at that," Aizawa chokes out, his dick bobbing in front of you, "but we're not done yet,"

He lightly pushed you back onto the ground and placed your ankles up onto his shoulders, putting his tip right up against your entrance. His muscles twitched in anticipation and you reveled in his godlike form.

"Is this okay?" He asked you, gently.

You laughed a bit at the question.

With all the heat and want you can channel, you look up at him from your place on the floor and rasp "ruin me, Shota,"

He gives you a wicked smile, one you've never seen him wear before, and pushes himself inside of your aching pussy, holding onto your leg for leverage. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, a bit unprepared for his full girth inside of you. It doesn't take long for you to start moving along with him though, and he begins to thrust harder, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

Biting your lower lip, you throw your head back, attempting to keep from screaming as he delves into you. He removes his hand from your leg to grab your jaw, and locking eyes says, "Eyes on me. I want to see the fucking look on your face when I make you cum,"

This coaxes a moan from you, and he gives a gutteral response to his cock being squeezed.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. God, you're so tight, fuck," his voice is husky and deep.

Your cunt hugs him tighter with every word.

He needed more.

Aizawa takes his free hand and starts to rub your clit in circles, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and you can feel that knot in your stomach forming again. You're about to come undone already, and he can feel you clamping around him like a vice.

"Fuck that feels so good," your voice is heady and needful.

His pacing became erratic once more and his ministrations on your clit became almost desperate. He was barely holding on, whimpering, sweat dotting his brow.

"I knew you were fucking teasing me. Coming out in those tiny shorts. Know what I shoulda done? Should've fucked you right there on the couch. Should've bred your tight little cunt," he leans down to fill some of the gap between you, a few tendrils of his raven hair falling to cling to his face.

He pistons into you harder, "Swear to god, I'm gonna fuck every single thought out of that pretty little head. Wanna tease me like that? Take your fucking punishment. I.. f-fuck!" He feels you come unraveled all over his cock as you ride him from there on the floor, making sounds that hitch in your throat like ragged bleats. He made note of your blissed-out expression and then let out a sharp gasp, your walls almost too snug for him to handle.

You whined in a small voice, still finishing, your gaze not breaking when you tell him, "make a mess in me,"

That's all it took for him to lose it, giving into his pleasure and allowing himself to fill you up with what felt like gallons of cum, letting out strangled moans as his entire body throbs.

Panting, he pulls out of you, watching as his release leaks from between your legs. He wasn't usually interested in sex at all after getting off, but seeing you like this, glowing with sweat and hormones, covered in him. It made him weak. He pulls apart your cunt with his thumbs, watches your glistening sex twitch, cum dripping. He's going to remember this if he ever needs to get off in two seconds flat.

The two of you lay in the floor together, floating, riding the high in a breathless haze.

"Be my girlfriend, y/n," Aizawa was the first to speak.

You were taken aback.

"What?"

You never thought him to be the type to be alright with labels.

"I like you. Not just in the way that I want to have sex with you. I want to make love to you. And I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you be with me?"

You ran your fingers across his jawline as a warm smile spread across your face.

"I'll be your girlfriend. But there are stipulations,"

"Anything. Whatever you want, it's yours," Aizawa hopes that his longing isn't too obvious, that he isn't too eager, but another part of him doesn't even care anymore.

"You have to be my boyfriend," your words are like a breeze through a windchime.

His eye takes purchase in your face as he leans into you, the kiss he offers you this time languid, lazy, loving instead of a mess of teeth and lips.

I love you, he thought, pulling away enough that your foreheads touch. God, how I love you. Just allow me to worship at the altar of your body once more.

Before you can stop yourself, and as if you can read his mind, you speak to him in a voice that's almost a whisper, "I think I love you,"

He looks dumbfounded, awestruck.

He finds his voice enough to say, simply, "I love you," followed by a kiss pressed to your nose.

The day that follows is soft and halcyon. You bask in one another like the afterglow is your lifeline, here in your own private world, all stardust and warmth. You don't know what the future holds. You stopped living in a world of 'what ifs' a long time ago. But you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you'll be there with him.

And he'll be there with you.

Like he always is.

[gabessquishytum]

So I think I will turn that 70s music AU into it's own thing, but never fear! I will not leave anyone Goth Dreamless.

So two ideas about Goth Dream. The first one is that he's the local weirdo dad to Orpheus, a bright and friendly student. He's always wearing black on black with nail polish and hair so weird it'd put Robert Smith to shame. But he's known for being one of the kinder, more caring parents. He hand makes special treats for Orpheus's youth league football team. He organizes expansive birthday parties for his son's whole class and don't even get started on their Halloween party. He has the biggest house on the block and turns it into a veritable Halloween amusement park with giant skeletons and an elaborate haunted house. Doesn't help that he has real taxidermied bats hanging from his ceiling. All in all, while he's weird, he's a good father.

Robyn goes to the same school on scholarship and Hob works multiple jobs to keep Robyn in this posh private school. Him and Orpheus became fast friends when Orpheus invited him over while they waited for Hob to get off his second job. Unfortunately they forgot to mention that to Robyn's dad. Which led to Hob frantically calling his son, then showing up to Dream's house furious that Robyn forgot to mention his little excursion to a stranger's house. Fortunately Dream, in his black silk pyjama pants and well-worn and holey Bauhaus shirt, sufficiently charmed Hob enough to invite the two over for dinner. Then when the boys tired themselves out running around the property and fell asleep in Orpheus's room, Hob got to tire himself out on Dream's prick.

The second idea I had when browsing some memes and saw a Goth Girl Simp starter pack which is totally Hob. Not that he simps over Goth guys and gals specifically, just that he has a crush.

Dream is everything he isn't. He's tall, thin, and so fair it's almost like he's a fairy. He's effortlessly cool and mysterious, never deigning to speak more than a few words with most people. He's a regular at Hob's pub but doesn't do more than drink merlot alone in a corner booth. Occasionally he brings a date, but he's seen those relationships come and go. The last girl, Thessaly, got so mad at his lack of attention that she splashed her drink in his face and stormed out. Hob comped her drinks and Dream left shortly after paying for his wine.

Joanna laughs at the whole situation. In her experience, lots of people want a goth partner, but the magic fades when they take off their make-up and walk around and their pillows are stained with black hair dye. Hob is not deterred! He wants that stranger carnally. But how is he going to relate to him? The hardest album he has in his whole flat is a copy of Diva classics covered by some punk band. He didn't spend much time with the punks or metalheads in school and couldn't tell a Christan Death song from Sisters of Mercy. Jo laughs at him the entire way through as she helps him spike his hair and paint his nails.

Then comes show time. Dream comes in every day around 7:30-8. He comes around dressed to the Gothic nines with two glasses of red wine. He had Jo put some Stone Roses on the jukebox. He casually sits in the booth and tells him drinks are free if he cares to give a little of his time. Dream bursts out laughing. That horrid, donkey bray of a laugh deflates Hob's ego terribly. He gets up to leave, but Dream grabs his hand. He's never had someone try so hard to cater to his fashion sense. It's not needed as Dream had a crush on Hob, and well, a full night full of fucking wine drinking wasn't on anyone's to do list before tonight, but Hob can't complain!

🎸

I dearly, dearly love the idea of Hob simping for goth Dream in literally any scenario. It just brings me so much joy. Like, the image of Hob laying on the bed watching as Dream goes through the process of making himself up: litres of white foundation, powder, yards of black eyeliner in complex patterns, shining black lipstick, dozens of items of carefully selected silver jewellery, half a can of hairspray. Hob is obsessed with the entire process. And of course Dream is a lucky bastard who doesn't need to dye his hair, but can you imagine the day he finds his first greys? He's locking himself in the bathroom patching up every single spot of hair that isn't absolutely pitch black. Hob diligently helps and doesn't even complain about the fact that they'll never get the stains off the sink. He assures Dream that no, he won't have to shave it all off like Andrew Eldritch. It's fine, no one will even see which bits are dyed.

And Hob is just as much as a simp on the days where Dream’s hair is sticking out at all angles completely unstyled, and he's still in his pyjamas at 2pm. Hob still takes his job as Goth Boyfriend Appreciator very seriously, thanks very much. Arguably Dream is at his MOST goth when he's wearing Hob’s tracksuit down to the local tesco and having a silent battle with someone's grandmother over the last Danish pastry.

Also!! Goth dad Dream has captured my heart because!!!! Goth baby/child Orpheus!!!! In his little black outfits and spikey hair listening to Siouxsie and the banshees on Dream’s ancient ipod!!!! I am weak for it. And of course he's besties with Robyn, who has inherited his dad's love of Clannad and Fairport Convention. A match made in musical heaven, bless them <3

[tragic-vaudeville]

is there any goth albums or bands you suggest listening too?

I listen to: all the cure goth albums, Selected Scenes from the end of the world by London after midnight, Ju Ju by Siouxsie and the banshees, Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division, Floodland by The sisters of mercy, In a flat field by Bauhaus, Ocean Rain by Echo & the bunnymen, one Ploho album (it’s in Russian), and two Molchat Doma albums (it’s in Russian 😭)

IN PROGRESS: Only a theater of pain by Christian Death and Clan of Xymox (I’m listening to it rn!!)

Right now I been looking threw Reddit for goth albums and one goth friend on instagram I follow your tumblr so I was wondering if you have any suggestions for bands and albums?

Also I went to your card and added you on air buds im on air buds (my name is Millie⁉️ and user is apolloflightsss or something similar to that)

oh i got plenty of recommendations for goth bands/albums!! i've limited down to 15 artists and 15 albums.

GOTH BANDS/MUSICIANS:

Love and Rockets

Depeche Mode

The Birthday Party

The Chamelons

Specimen

Rosette Stone

Skeletal Family

The Sound

Pink Turns Blue

Diva Destruction

Romeo Void

Play Dead

Faithful Dawn

The Damned (i specifically recommend their album Phantasmagoria bc it's their most iconic and gothic album it's so life changing vro)

Echo & the Bunnymen (okay im a huge bunnymen fan and im so glad you checked out ocean rain!! i really recommend listening to basically their first 3 albums before ocean rain (crocodiles, heaven up here, and porcupine) because they're super iconic and gothic. unfortunately from their 1987 self titled album and forward they lose their post punk/gothic sound and became like alternative dad rock. they're still good but those albums are hit and misses)

GOTH ALBUMS:

Hyæna - Siouxsie and the Banshees

Night Time - Killing Joke

Sleep in Safety - 45 Grave

Song and Legend - Sex Gang Children

The Nephilim - Fields of Nephilim

...If I Die, I Die - Virgin Prunes

Serpentine Gallery - Switchblade Symphony

Big City Fun/Blue Sisters Swing - Flesh For Lulu

All About Eve's self titled album

The Singles: 1981-1983 - 13th Chime

The Botanic Verses - The March Violets

Ceremony - Twin Tribes

Who's Been Sleeping in My Brain? - Alien Sex Fiend

Bloodletting - Concrete Blonde

Gag - Fad Gadget



[grzybjek]

for some reason i cant answer this ask directly BUT thank u user @honestlytastygayasstrash for the ask now get ready for the longest post ill ever write. I fucking love talking about my characters.

here they are. my scrimblos. :

Antek, token cis white man of the group: -ISFJ, he/him, age is around 18, listens to ABBA, Queen, Modern Talking, Manaam, Obywatel GC, Lady Pank and Depeche Mode.

(i think i wrote it on his ref sheet but he got his scar by simply tripping over a cupboard as a child. He doesnt tell anyone about this though and always comes up with different stories about how he got the scar. So some people think he got it by winning a bear fight or fighting a drunk old man)

-he is a fucking menace. and i mean it. most insane man on earth that always tries to grab others attention in the most dangerous and stupid ways imaginable. Also uses alcohol as his weapon to look and act more cool and always fails miserably. Hes also very noncommittal and always switches out the people that he talks to after a week, simply because he doesnt feel comfortable with anyone. But he still loves getting attention from others so he keeps getting into these relationships just to drop them later. Theres something different about Bianka and Gabriel though and thats why theyre friends. and I think his pinterest board explains his personality better than i ever will

and some fun facts! hes surprisingly good at cooking and is the only one in the group that knows how to drive a car.

if it comes to Bianka shes my favorite goth woman ever. Here is some info about her: -ENTJ, she/them, is around 17, listens to Siouxsie and the Banshees, Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy, Myslovitz, Republika, Depeche Mode and The Cure.

-Obviously shes recognized mostly for her gothic makeup which I absolutely love drawing. And shes goth herself, and is even in a gothic punk band! The band members include her, as the bassist, Helena as the singer, Janek as the drummer and Antek used to play the keyboard before they kicked him out.

And this is how I imagine them:-) just two alt girls and just some guy. Love them

-Bianka is the most confident out of everyone in the group, even Antek who's all over the place. She knows when to stop talking unlike him though. However her being confident doesnt mean she likes being in the spotlight, in fact, she absolutely hates it. She hates that everyone is always listening to her and whenever she walks in the room all eyes are on her. So most of the times she just wants to hide and spends time in her little circle of friends, but if theres an emergency then shes the first one to intervene. She also has a very weird moral compass just like Helena so theyre best friends, obviously.

Literally her. A fun fact about her is that she has like four Siouxsie and the Banshees posters in her room and owns a golden retriver which I didnt name yet.

oh and i forgot to mention but Bianka has Chinese ancestors and has a lot of chinese facial features that I always fail to draw because I focus on her makeup too much.

The last one is Gabriel, miserable ginger guy whos also the main character of the plot and yet i know so little about him. Im still figuring out his personality honestly. Anyhow:

-ISFP, he/him, age 17, listens to Tame Impala, Gorillaz, The Strokes, MGMT, David Bowie, Dolly Parton and Depeche Mode. All three of them are Depeche Mode fans.

-As I mentioned I know very little about him. But I think hes more of watcher of the world around him than a member of it. He's mostly quiet because he cant figure out when its the best time to speak, unfortunately that also means he keeps his best jokes to himself. Hes also mostly dissociated from the world and tries to be an active member of it so bad that he always ends up doing stupid things or hurting himself in the process. I think its just safe to say hes still figuring out his place in the world, and because the world around him confuses him so much he holds onto safe memories most of the time. Thats why hes a photographer and likes catching all of the important moments of life on camera, its like a comforting feeling for him. Hes also very irrational and a people pleaser but i blame it on his undiagnosed AuDHD honestly.

questionable pinterest board explains his personality well too

-as hes the narrator of the story, its very important to mention hes a queer character. I avoided talking about the queernes of others characters on purpose, since its an important part of their story that i dont want to share yet but without any context ill just say that Gabriel is a trans man and bisexual!

as for fun facts he owns a cat named Felek, really likes green olives and lives with his grandparents. Antek also taught him how to drive a car but he never put that info in use.

AND HERE COMES MY FAVORITE PART!!!! ILL EXPLAIN THE DYNAMIC BETWEEN THEM ALL!!!

starting with Gabriel and Nastka, whom I didnt mention in this post as shes just a side character, its important to know that these two are childhood friends. Theyre not that close anymore, their relationship disappeared as time went on, but they both keep each other in their memories and think about each other a lot. They both nicknamed each other after Dead Poets Society characters too, so Nastka never calls Gabriel by his name, but Todd. Theyre also neighbours and share a balcony. Sometimes they meet there as theyre hanging up clothes to dry and just exchange smiles.

The relationship between Gabriel and Antek is more complicated. They met on a party once and never got to know each other better, but couldnt stop thinking about each other. Gabriel just knows about Antek from Bianka's stories and vice versa, and whenever they meet everyone thinks theyre best friends because of how well they can get along without even knowing a thing about themselves. They always end up dancing together on parties, going on walks at night and talking about their favorite books somewhere in the corner, having deep conversations about their views of life but they never ask each other personal questions and if you ask one of them to say whats their favorite color, they wouldnt know. I like to think the universe never gave them a chance to know each other better because if it did theyd be too powerful together. Maybe if they got to know each other better theyd be more than friends.

Bianka and Anteks relationship is pretty similar to the relationship between Gabriel and Nastka. Theyre also childhood best friends and first met each other in the counselors office in 6th grade as Bianka tried to beat someone up for being mean to Antek, a guy she didnt even know yet. She just needed an excuse to get in a fight with some boys that she didnt like and somehow made a best friend ten minutes later. Since then theyve been on and off, sometimes splitting up for months at a time and going back to each other to spill everything theyve learned while they were away. They always find support in each other even if they cant understand each other that well and are total opposites. Somehow Bianka always finds a way to cheer up Antek, even if shes the one to make him feel bad in the first place.

Antek was the first one to suggest they should make a band, and they tried several times until they ended up with Helena and Janek which I previously mentioned.

And the last one, Bianka and Gabriels dynamic..... its very cute actually. Bianka is the first person to show Gabriel the world around him and introduce him to new possibilities. She showed him goth dance moves and helped him find his taste in music. They met in high school as they sat together in math class and if not Bianka being confident and immediately accepting Gabriel as her friend, hed never speak to her. He probably still thinks shes too cool for him, but is very happy to have her as a friend anyway even if he feels belittled by her sometimes. Feeling belittled is why Gabriel usually doesnt speak to her first and waits until she does it first. They often do sleepovers where they watch all of their favorite movies for the tenth time.

Also they all have friendship bracelets. All three of them.

I dont know what else I could talk about so i think thats all!! Thats still such a long post I hope someone actually reads it. Thank you for asking about them I had so much fun writing this<3

I also purposefully avoided talking about the plot of Migawka because I want to keep it a secret. I really want to write a book or a comic one day with all three of the characters and so I wanna keep the plot to myself until I finish writing.

anyhow, heres migawkas pinterest board.

https://pin.it/7tFnFoH

[running-tweezers]

After a lot of encouraging from my bestie @phantasmechanical, and some interest from a few folks here, I’ve decided to post the first part of an AU fic I’m writing (and have been hyperfixated on) with my favorite ocs. There are currently 6 parts written, over 13k words, and I’m still working on it. If you enjoy, I live and breathe off comments and reblogs and asks and such. And I’ll continue posting more here on occasion. SO, without further ado.

~ Pictures Of You - Part 1 ~

The year is 1989. Nate, with his sunshiney smile, his love of plants, and his mostly “normal” tastes, has fallen head over heels. There’s only one issue. He’s fallen for a gorgeous goth named Zephyr he only sees on public access TV once a week.

Rated: T

2255 words

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

~ April 28, 1989 ~

Nate’s eyelids drooped a bit as the clock made its way closer to 1 AM. He would regret this in the morning. He always did. But it was worth it.

This Thursday night routine was all a secret for a while, until his sister started calling him out for nearly nodding off during their Friday lunch catch up sessions. He couldn’t hide it from her, he had to fess up. She had just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that figures,” she’d said. “You’ve always had a thing for the freaks.” She scolded him gently for not getting enough sleep and that was that, aside from the odd comment occasionally about his “hot TV goth.”

Nate poured a cup of the coffee he brewed just for this, hoping the caffeine would pull him through the next half hour without making him jittery all night. It was either that, or risk falling asleep on his uncomfortable couch again. Then he’d really regret it.

He settled in and flicked on the TV, switching it to the public access station before the screen could even fully light up. What played before varied from week to week. Sometimes it was this phony TV psychic, sometimes reruns of some televangelist, sometimes just infomercials selling Ginsu knives and love song compilations. He figured they couldn’t find someone willing to stick to such a late time slot. This week it was some New Wave guy with questionable talent and even more questionable haircut, banging on a Cassio keyboard and singing off key. He hit the mute button and sipped from his mug, waiting for the last few minutes to pass.

Soon the irritating Duran Duran wannabe cut out, and the screen filled with familiar color bars. He unmuted, just in time to hear the last bit of ringing dead air cut suddenly to the sound of guitars and deep droning vocals.

And there they were.

Behind a dimly lit desk in a brick walled basement, with thick black eye makeup and wild, ratted up hair, sat the whole reason Nate was still awake at this time every Thursday night.

“Welcome, night owls and creatures of the darkness.” The figure on the screen spoke to the camera, in a cold, deadpan voice, never letting their face show anything more than a wry smirk. “My name’s Zephyr and you’ve stumbled into my world for the next half hour. Aren’t you lucky.”

A phone number hung at the bottom of the screen as they continued their introduction. “If you have something worthwhile to say, call in. If not, don’t bother.”

They launched immediately into a long and rambling explanation of the song playing in the background that kicked off the show. Nate recognized the name of the band, ‘Sisters of Mercy,” from their music recommendations in the past. He barely knew anything about the goth scene they talked about. What he did know, however, was that they were gorgeous. There was something so entrancing about them. Something dark and mysterious that he couldn’t look away from.

Maybe Mick was right. Maybe he was just into freaks.

“Speaking of music, I got my hands on the single The Cure put out last week, the one from the new album coming out soon. I’m gonna get the album as soon as it hits the shelves, but whatever, I couldn’t resist.” Their face remained apathetic, but there was an undeniable light behind their eyes. It was obvious they were excited behind the thin mask of indifference. It was endlessly endearing.

“Fascination Street is the single, and it’s incredible, even the B-side is great—“ They paused looking down at their switchboard. “Looks like there’s someone on the line,” they muttered, fiddling with the buttons on the desk in front of them. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, me and my friend have a question,” the distorted phone voice slurred with the distinct cadence of a drunk college kid, with said friend laughing in the background. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

Zephyr breathed a weary sigh, and leaned back in their chair. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna fuck you either way.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to fuck you, you ugly fucking frea-“

“Bite me,” they flatly interrupted, disconnecting the line. “Anyway, Facination Street…”

Calls like that were too common. More people called in to be rude than to actually talk. It just seemed to come with the territory, but they handled them pretty well. It took a person with a ton of courage to come on TV and deal with people like that, just so they could talk about things they loved. That only made them that much more intriguing.

“I got the cassette version, the 12-inch vinyl has an extended intro, plus an extra B-side. I heard that extended intro for the first time at the club the other night. I swear it was a fucking spiritual experience. Being on the floor at The Underground, listening to The Cure, with all those other people? That's church to me. That’s my religion.” He continued with that same intensity, as if nothing happened. That was their favorite band, they talked about them all the time. He’d never listened to any of their music, but every time he saw one of their albums on the shelf at the store, his mind lit up with recognition.

He daydreamed occasionally of bumping into them at Sam Goody, just by pure coincidence. Striking up a conversation. Asking them about what music they’d recommend. Hearing their passionate rambling in person. It was dumb. They probably went to much cooler, underground record stores than some mall chain. But it was nice to think about.

“We have another caller.” Once again they paused their stream of consciousness and pressed buttons on the switchboard. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“The Cure sucks shit.” The voice on the other side of the phone managed to sound even more bored and detached, almost like it was a competition. “They’re nothing but mainstream garbage now.”

“Have you heard the new single?”

“No, but their whole last album was poppy bullshit.”

“It had a little bit of a pop sound, yeah, but the meat of what makes them good was still there,” they argued. “You’re acting like they became fuckin, Tiffany and started doing mall shows or something.”

“They might as well be.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well I think you’re a poser.”

They noticeably bristled at the accusation. “I’m already halfway through my slot, I don’t have time for this shit.” They disconnected the call, looking a bit more shaken than usual.

Why did people call in just to be assholes? Maybe the anonymity combined with an audience was too sweet a deal to people like that. Nate genuinely couldn’t understand that way of thinking. Where was the joy in being mean to a stranger?

He glanced at the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. Calling in had crossed his mind before. He had even had the number dialed, ready to press the call button a few times, but he always chickened out in the end. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about any of this. So he remained a silent observer, content to just watch this beautiful goth waxing poetic about the things they cared about.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for another call. They answered with a touch of exasperation. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, remember me, bitch?”

Without wasting a second, what was obviously the drunk caller from earlier, dove in with some of the most brutal nastiness Nate had ever heard anyone spew, much less a caller on their show. The onslaught of insults and hate speech seemed to be unending, attacking every aspect that he could think of. Nothing was off limits to this guy. It turned Nate’s stomach to be reminded so vividly how awful some people could be.

Zephyr didn’t look like they were faring well either. They scrambled to disconnect the call, blurting out a single shaky “fuck you,” before silencing him. They let out a heavy breath, their silence only accentuated by their faint music still playing in the background.

Something broke. The nonchalant, confident Zephyr he’d come to know through the screen was completely gone for a few brief seconds. Like they’d never been there.

They cleared their throat and sat back up straight in their chair, trying to regain composure. “Sorry about that,” they said, as solidly as they could muster. “Maybe we should just move on to something else…”

Nate made up his mind in an instant.

He grabbed the phone next to him and carefully dialed the on screen number, not hesitating to press the call button this time.

He twisted the cord around his finger as he waited to connect. The shift in Zephyr’s demeanor on screen let him know he’d gotten through. They looked defeated, like they were debating even picking this one up. He prayed that they did.

He saw the press of the button and heard the click from the phone a split second later.

“Hello?” They had dropped their regular script, too exhausted and annoyed to even finish it.

“Hi!” The first word out of their mouth was entirely too much energy, but once he heard that call connect, he was acting on pure instinct.

They relaxed, if only a little, obviously relieved to hear any voice other than the previous caller. “Hi?” they repeated, puzzled.

It hit him all at once, and he could only sit in silence for a split second. He was actually talking to them. Live on the air. He acted on such impulse, the only thought in his head was to block that asshole from calling back. He hadn’t thought past this moment.

“I uh… I didn’t really think through what I was gonna say.” Nate laughed nervously as he floundered for the right words. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really like your show? I’ve been watching every week for the last couple of months. I don’t know much about all this, but I like hearing you talk about it.”

Zephyr looked skeptical. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No! No, I mean it!” Nate summoned every ounce of sincerity he could, to try and make Zephyr believe him. “You’re obviously really passionate about it, and I like watching you because of that.”

Yes. Because of their passion for their interests. No other reason. Especially not because he found them unbelievably sexy.

“Oh.” Zephyr’s drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, uh. Thanks, I guess.” They struggled to accept the compliment and still maintain that mysterious facade. Nate thought for a second he caught the beginnings of a smile, but it may have been a trick of the cameras.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at the clock. Just over 10 minutes of airtime left. If that guy wanted to call in again, he would have plenty of time to do it. He had to stay on the line and get them talking about something else.

“So, I do have a question,” he began, thinking back to his stupid record store daydream. “If I just walk into any regular mall record store, what would you recommend looking for if I want to ease my way into listening to stuff like this? Or do I need to look somewhere else for the good stuff?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, actually.” Their eyes lit up again, and they were off. “You can find good stuff there, it’s just gonna be the more mainstream artists. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m always gonna recommend The Cure, obviously. And no matter what that prick earlier said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their last album, and I feel like it’s pretty accessible. A good gateway, I think.”

He stayed on the phone, asking questions, and they were more than happy to answer them all. The next 10 minutes flew by, and soon he had a list of artists and albums scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Eventually, Zephyr cut themself off from the tangent they had been going on. “Oh shit, I’m almost out of time.”

“That’s ok, thanks for all the suggestions!” He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice, and it threatened to draw a smile out of the stone faced goth on the TV.

“Of course.” They answered, having turned that creeping smile quickly into a smug smirk, to maintain the illusion. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He hung up the phone and watched as Zephyr went through their regular show wrap up. Only now did he realize how hot his face was. He made his dumb little fantasy come true, if not in the exact way he’d imagined it. And they came out of the horrible first half of their show unscathed. That’s all he could ask for.

“I suppose that about does it then,” they said, fully back in the swing of things. “Thanks for spending some time with me tonight. And remember, there’s beauty in the darkness, if you’re willing to let it in. Goodnight, and I’ll see you next week.”

The screen went black yet again, and Nate switched off the TV. He had to try to sleep. But between the coffee and what just happened, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get there.

At least he’d have a hell of a story to tell his sister tomorrow.

[elliekillsu]

HI HI do you have any goth music recs? I know literally nothing about this sorta stuff but I so curious, it seems awesome

ABSOLUTELY OKAY I WILL LINK SOME PLAYLISTS AND SOME BAND RECS

This is my personal playlist I don't use or update it often but it's got some good ones I can confirm

This is a bigger beginners I guess playlist for goth music

Bands:

Bauhaus- the original goth band, their song bela lugosi is dead is considered the first goth song and the birth of goth music, reflected in their following music

Sisters of mercy- very very similar to bauhaus in style, they keep a dark tone to their music while keeping it upbeat while bauhaus did more lighter songs while still maintaining the gothic vibe

Siouxsie and the banshees- definitely the more popular of goth bands, siouxsie keeps the vibes while moving towards the new wave aesthetic

These three are absolutely the most well known and greatest presences in goth music, honourable mentions are absolutely needed for joy devision, twin tribes, London after midnight, Christian death and so so many more

[shishiikura]

would you give a few personal best goth albums/artists/recommendations

Absolutely I would love to!

I'm going to go by albums since that's how I find it easiest to get into music. Anyway some of my more well-known goth faves that I kinda always listen to:

Disintegration and Pornography by The Cure. Disintegration is one of my favorite albums of all time and its one of THE goth albums however I love all of The Cure's music so.

Violator, Black Celebration, Music for the Masses, Some Great Reward and Playing the Angel by Depeche Mode. You can't expect me to choose one album of theirs they are literally the peche mode. Their gothiest TO ME is Black Celebration though.

With Sympathy by Ministry. One of my absolute favorite albums this is peak cheesy 80s gothy synthpop. I also love the song Everyday is Like Halloween.

Floodland and First and Last and Always by The Sisters of Mercy. Another goth classic like true vampire music.

I like a lot of the usual 80s suspects that may or may not count as goth such as Joy Division and New Order (who i absolutely do count) Pet Shop Boys and The Smiths (debatable but probably not tho)

My more niche fave darkwavey type stuff:

Shattered by Glass Spells

Surf Goth EP and Surf Goth B-sides by Desmond Doom. They also have a new single I like called The Big Boys

Trauma Club or literally anything by Male Tears

Haunted Castle by French Police

Display Model by Harsh Symmetry

Reflections or really anything by October Burns Black

If you like more industrial angry doomy gothy:

An Overture by Youth Code

Anything HEALTH has ever done. I like their songs with NIN, Youth Code, The Soft Moon, and Street Sects (all of these are good bands on their own too)

New Flesh by Priest (supposedly these are former members from the band Ghost? I like them more personally)

I like a lot of industrial like KMFDM and Nine Inch Nails. KMFDM has a fuck ton of music so my fave albums are Tohuvabohu, HYËNA, Nihil, Adios and Hau Ruck.

I've been listening to a little more nu metal recently since that's my bfs specialty and we have that blend playlist thang and he recently got me into Tonight the Stars Revolt by Powerman 5000. It's fun cheesy sci-fi nu metal I really enjoy it.

[liliththeblackmage]

Sanguivore, some thoughts

I made a post on here about a year ago about seeing Creeper play a headline show at London’s Roundhouse, a show which brought an end to the era of their last album, Sex Death and the Infinite Void, and an end to their time with American creativity devouring label Roadrunner. it also came with a new song Ghost Brigade to set the tone of the new era and hold fans over for a full release at some point in the future.

This show came at a really interesting time for my relationship with the band, I had been falling out of love with them slowly but surely since the end of their first album cycle back in 2018. A combination of a disappointing ending to the album cycle and very disappointing second album cycle, my tastes changing and a several unpleasant experiences with other fans lead to me being very ready to bookend my fandom of this band with a show, something I’ve done with other bands in the past. Luckily the show went some way to revitalizing my appreciation for them.

In the intervening 11 months, I’ve seen them close out a packed stage at an even more packed Slam Dunk festival, heard Ghost Brigade live and followed the announcement of their third album titled Sanguiovore. A darker, heavier project produced by Grammy award winning Tom Dalgety.

I wanted to collect my feelings on the record as I went through it, a sort of first impressions / general thoughts, mostly focused on the writing and production as that's where my interests generally lie in discussing music.

Further than Forever I really felt like this song struggled to justify its length, its 9 minutes purely because Meatloaf and Steinman did 9 minute songs so we should too. I had to listen to this track several times to fully get my thoughts together on it, and it felt exhausting to get to the end of every time. Despite that the track had some really cool musical motifs and despite it being a pastiche of Steinman, a lot of Creepers uniqueness shows through. There are definitely parts of this song that could have done with ADT or actual double tracking.

Cry To Heaven The Production of this track is really is what makes this track work, if the snare was even a tiny bit less punchy, or the synth less full, it would be all the worse for it. in terms of composition it takes a lot of its moves from Floodland era Sisters Of Mercy, its cheesy yes, but the performances really sell it, everything in terms of the performance is on point, and its very much held up by that production, I genuinely think that no other producer they have worked with could have made this song work. They manage to pull of a unironic up a fifth key change with as straight face, which is an achievement in itself.

Sacred Blasphemy Sonicly this is they’ve come so far to anything they’ve released previously, its got the AFI punkyness with a hint of Revenge era My Chem in it, but its still shown through the lens of this project, with its moody goth overtones. Will stays in a lower register for nearly all of the song, which seems to be a trend in this record. its a very short track, but it hits all the right notes despite that, in the same way AFI’s Sacrifice Theory on The Art of Drowning does. This track makes heavy use of double tracking for both vocals and guitar and it really adds to the atmosphere of the track. This the first track where their new drummer gets to flex their chops over the previous drummers much more wooden performances.

The Balled of Spook and Mercy A slower number, which is appreciated after the last one. The first track to really talk about the narrative in detail. Once again pulling from the Steinman playbook in terms of composition, performance and production, though there are elements of Murray Gold in the track composition, reminding me a lot of his early work on Dr Who. Lyrically, I struggle to place it, it reminds me a lot of folk and country songs that are more of a story with a backing track than a song. The guitar solo interlaced with a harpsichord reminds me a lot of Mike Oldfield for some reason.

Lovers Led Astray I got notes of surf rock in the main guitar motif. In a crude way of describing it, its sounds like the B52s decided to try and make a goth project. (have been reliably been informed this is what The Cramps sound like). I wish in terms of production it leaned into it more, the thick marshal amp sound does it a slight disservice. I really enjoy that the band have embraced synthesizers on the latest record. I think this is my favourite track, purely because of how weird it is. If you want a track that sounds like Judas Priest and Andrew Eldritch made a surf song, this is it.

Teenage Sacrifice This song is a perfect love letter to 80s metal, without losing sight of the tone of the rest of the project. It is VERY apparent that the producer worked with Ghost on some of their best work on this track, pulling out some of the same stellar production choices here that he did on Prequelle. I do wish there was a bit more too the verses musically, as their sparseness does leave you to focus on the lyrics, which are passable without being anything special, a common issue of classic metal which is usually overlooked because the tracks dont slow down to let you think about them.

Chapel Gates The Punk influences return with a vengeance, if Teenage sacrifice was Creeper do Judas Priest, this is Creeper do The Damned. it also has small amounts of the surf influence in it again which is a welcome addition to me. This song has one of the catchiest and most enjoyable choruses and I think this one is going to be a lot of fun to hear live. Much like Sacred Blasphemy it really lets their new drummer show off his skills with a set of complicated fills which would have been unheard of in previous tracks

The Abyss The Abyss is a short musical intro for the next track.

Black Heaven A wonderfully moody goth track, lots of 80s goth and post punk influence, from the slightly off kilter disco adjacent drum beat in the verse (again showing off their new drummers skills here), to the reverb drenched subtractive synths in the background and the minimalist motifs in the first 2/3rds of the song, the bridge and ending of the song drift back into something that fits the rest of the record more, with a ripping melodic guitar solo and layer upon layer of vocals gently taking the song to its end point with a ethereal repeated vocal part

More Than Death The final track on the record, in keeping with their previous releases its a piano and vocal lead ballad. Its certainly their most hopeful of their album closers, compared to Eternity In Your Arms’ I choose To Live and Sex Death and the Infinite Void’s All My Friend. This comes at a cost I believe, those two tracks were written from an incredibly genuine place, barely attached to the narrative of the previous tracks, commenting on the state of the band and the health of its main writers. This track, at first glance anyway, feels artificial in comparison, going through the lyrical motions of a Steinman ballad. In spite of this it is a very enjoyable closer and I think will make an appropriate song to end a set with.

I think my biggest criticism of the album is the lyricism, now lyrics have never really been the biggest strong suit of the band, this is album is no different, I think it sticks out a lot more here because the rest of the composition is so good, whereas the quality of lyrics haven’t really developed much since their singers previous bands early releases.

Overall this album represents a return to form not seen since the 2016 EP ‘The Stranger’ (potentially earlier depending on who you ask). Creeper have embraced what worked about their early work while being able to experiment with new sounds and styles on this record, leading to their best Album by a mile. it’s cheesy yes, but they lean into it in a way that makes this the musical equivalent of a hammer horror film.

[lilalilan]

About a year ago I got inspired by some of the posts @rivetgoth made to get involved in my local goth scene. I ended up going to a local goth night for my birthday, and tonight was the first time at that goth night since my birthday and like. It's crazy how different things are now.

I have so so many friends that I've met at goth nights, or through people I met at goth nights. Instead of going alone I actually have people to go to goth events with if I want, but I also have the confidence to go to new events by myself now. I've gotten to see Lead into Gold, Skinny Puppy, Sisters of Mercy, and Ministry, all bands I love but didn't really know last year. I've been more deliberate about the clothes I buy, preferring things that are good quality and would also work for goth events. I've gotten most of my accessories from vendors at goth events, and it's always great supporting cool local people and getting to know them better. I even met my girlfriend at a goth event!

Having things to look forwards to and dress up for on a regular basis is really helpful. Having a place where I can be my weirdest self and no one cares because they get it means so much to me. I literally dressed like a clown today and everyone I spoke to loved it.

It's wild that it's only been a year. I'm excited for the next one!

[predictableshame]

Bli bla blou question time! At some point in your main twst blog (that I inhaled a few weeks ago like the starving fangirl I am) you mentioned that you were goth and listened to molchat doma ? Firstly, good tastes; and secondly, what else do you listen to? Sisters of mercy, bauhaus, 69 eyes? And what other genres do you like? One of my passions in life is figuring out people's tastes in music and cinema and making recommendations that hit right on the nail

thank you!!! my music taste is actually pretty boring. molchat doma is what got me into the subculture in the first place (though I seldom dress goth anymore, I did in high school). I also like opera multi steel, which is a little obscure coldwave band

malice mizer has been my favorite for a while

I'll listen to pretty much any genre though, there's good music in all of them

[fortressofserenity]

Between the two

When it comes to Goth cartoonists on the Internet, I feel that while Kai Decadence is one of the first that I got really interested in, it's Arden Wachowski who's the more talented of the two. Generally better sense of anatomy and while their comics aren't always so polished, there's something of an interesting story and angle not commonly found in Anglophone North American comics. As they're Canadian, Cold Hard Teeth is more interesting than say Captain Canuck.

The latter's a Canadian superhero as conceived by actual Canadians, but while the stories he appears in are serviceable, Cold Hard Teeth blows the waters off of it because it's not only more readable but also has a more interesting premise. It's about two musicians who go Goth upon realising that they're monsters, also they're into bands like Bauhaus and Sisters of Mercy which makes the Goth angle all the more authentic and sincere. In ways those written by non-Goths don't get immediately.

There's a gulf of difference between something like DC's Black Alice and the characters at Cold Hard Teeth, or for another matter Courtney Gripling's Goth makeover. Courtney being this character from As Told By Ginger, but like I said earlier Gordon's and Tanner's Goth makeover is sincere as their author actually got into Goth punk music at some point and stuck to it. For all its faults, it's really well-written and it's refreshing in a sea of bland superhero stories.

Kai Decadence's stuff tends to be more sexualised, in the sense that he fetishises not only muscular men, but also bodybuilders and it shows in the way he draws cartoon characters. The less is said about his fursona, the better. While Kai Decadence is one of the earliest I got into, Arden Wachowski's better even if their art's not always polished but is at least interesting.

[maximuswolf]

Listening to the Sugarcubes' first album and thinking about the darkwave bands

Listening to the Sugarcubes' first album and thinking about the darkwave bands The actual term "darkwave" didn't get used much before the 00s, maybe the 90s, as I recall. (Can't back that up.) In the 80s we just called it new wave. Obviously lots of people here were there back then. I look back at some of what I considered "good" music, and it did actually need to be dark. Mainly in the lyrics. The Pixies' "Doolittle", for instance, was wildly successful, in part, because the lyrics were so incredibly morbid. Black Francis talking about hating himself so much he invites all his enemies to torture him to death over an afternoon ("Gouge Away"), or how he didn't consider himself a lightweight in the world of punk rock. He considered himself as hardcore as the movie Un Chien Andalou, with the actual razor slicing an actual eyeball. Or any number of other songs on there, although of course not all of them.The same time I had the Doolittle cassette I had the Sugarcubes cassette, and that first album is still amazing. Not just for the famed back-and-forth that rock critics hadn't been able to salivate over since Exene Cervenka and John Doe back in the early-80s. But it also had an "edge", as I would have called it back then. The first song is about facing execution. The second is a happy little song about accidentally causing a road fatality. The third is either a heartfelt ode to how it's totally okay for little kids to hang out with old men in the bathtub while they sew spiders into their underwear, or, hear me out, it's intentionally creepy. There's the song about collecting children. There's the song about the suicidal naked man who Bjork brings back from the edge with sweets and sex. All sorts of wonderful stuff.Around that time we had the Jesus and Mary Chain writing love songs with just a hint of thematic tie-in to Christ being crucified ("April Skies" -- complete with crucifixion cover) or songs about true love being like a force of darkness. (Half the songs on "Darklands".) But even earlier, Siouxsie and the Banshees made a real thing out of it. Their second album (massively overlooked) was just non-stop dreariness, and they did happen to write a song about torturing children to death ("Pulled To Bits"), and one about getting tired of watching videos of people being tortured, since she wants to see the real thing. ("Monitor".)And there's a ton of stuff to point to, from Wire to The Smiths. But point is, new wave had to go to a darker place, and yet we never really categorize it in any particular way, maybe because it was so natural back then. The first bands to go further than NYC punk were called new wave (Blondie and Talking Heads) and they never got that heavy, really. The first bands to go further than UK punk were called post-punk (Siouxsie and the Banshees, Joy Division, The Cure, Wire, The Chameleons, Bauhaus, PiL and Gang of Four). And they *did* go too far. (The second PiL album is also an overlooked gem of non-stop dreariness.) There were the bands that went dark in a poetic way, and they got called goth (The Cure, Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy). You then have the endless question mark that tries to define the difference between alternative rock (Love and Rockets) and indie rock (Pixies), and never quite gets there. But darkwave is more an idea. That's really anyone who darkened their material. Does anyone else remember it being like this? For instance, the follow-up to Doolittle, the Pixies album Bossanova, aside from not having as many memborable tunes, also lacked a sinister streak. It was irritatingly positive. I remember Black Francis (or maybe Kim Deal) saying something back then like, "We don't always want to talk about death. Maybe we want to talk about UFOs."Sorta TL;DR -- I'm guessing I wasn't the only one in the 80s who needed their underground music to go to dark places. It puts more context to grunge, and later on Britpop. Or is that a construct? Is it always like that? Submitted July 11, 2024 at 09:04PM by Nerditter https://ift.tt/gMnPRDO via /r/Music

[gothethite]

Fave goth songs this year: 1. Crescent and the star - Sunshine Blind Gothic Rock

Honestly my favourite Sunshine Blind song objectively is probably burned at the stake now, but I'm a bit emotionally attached to this one. I spent a lot of time this year driving around alone and camping etc. to see cool landscapes and stuff + moving around between states so yeah. I really like the buzzing instrumentals and the way the singers vocals kind of match that in a way that's a bit hard to describe.

2. Telekinesis - Altar de fey Deathrock

I really like all the space imagery and stuff in this song, I read a lot of science fiction and this song just feels like a scifi short story thing. Also I really like the way the fast, discrete drumming contrasts with the guitar where all the notes blend into each other.

3. A fever dream - Mors Syphilitica Ethereal wave

This was my ethereal wave year tbh, I used to not listen to it much but it was probably my top genre this year. I love the really dramatic soaring instrumentals and vocals but the drums make it a lot more like, heavier and driving in contrast to a lot of ethereal wave I find a bit boring. Also the singer's vocals are so cool.

4. Silent Thunder - Mephisto Walz Deathrock

So according to spotify Mephisto Walz was my top artist, and though I also listened to a ton of stuff on youtube, bandcamp and mp3s that's probably right overall. I absolutely love Mephisto Walz's instrumentals and the kind of monotone sinister vocals go so well with them... they're probably my favourite of any bands I can think of.

5. Strange Weather - Dead Spells Deathrock? Their bandcamp and stuff says post punk and darkwave but the drumming and guitar sounds make me think deathrock tbh

Ok usually I like really dramatic instrumentals and stuff but I also really like the spooky more hollow sounding usually deathrock stuff but I think it's reallyyyy hard to do well without sounding boring but all this band's stuff is great. The lead singer's voice is great and I like the kind of tense tone of the lyrics. I could listen to this song on repeat for hours tbh.

6. The Future - Second Still Post Punk

Second Still is a really great band I'm so sad they broke up :(. They're also influenced by no wave so they've got some really interesting rhythms and stuff, it's more obvious in some of they're other songs on the album. The lyrics and stuff are also interesting it's very detached yet kind of upbeat which like so true...

7.Valentine - Sisters of Mercy Gothic Rock

The instrumentals and stuff make such a spooky ambience I love it. Also I think the anti war and militarism message is really relevant (Like yeah Andy's pretty obnoxious in a lot of ways but the anti militarism messages and critique of cold war unhinged nationalist mutually assured destruction stuff are so true. I keep seeing people going 'gothic rock has always been apolitical' and it's like mate. sisters of mercy is NOT subtle lmao what do you think the rain in first and last and always represents...) + the juxtaposition of really mundane imagery of everyday stuff and descriptions of like conflict really feel like this year tbh like I wake up in the morning and read the news and it's like wow. there's a lot of horrible stuff happening, a terrifying rise of far right groups and climate change and stuff. ok time to make breakfast and go running and study for my bio test I guess.

8. Dusk of Hallows Gothic rock? Post punk?

Corpus delicti has the best synth of goth bands imo. ok 100 years by the cure is extremely good too but the echoey soaring synth in corpus delicti is really good in way more songs it's so dramatic and the switching between the quieter synthy bits and the loud drumming and guitar works really well.

9. Remedios the Beauty - Strange Boutique Ethereal wave

I love the instrumentals in this, like I love screechy soary synth and guitars and stuff but this song kind of did the opposite with more clear instrumentals sounding a bit more like plucked strings I guess and it sounds really cool! Another of the songs that got me really into ethereal wave this year.

10. You bleed me - Suspiria Darkwave/Gothic rock

Over the last year Suspiria has become my go to 'it's 4 hours past time to go to sleep but I really need to finish this essay'. Very upbeat and also kind of fun in a silly vampire way. In a slightly different world where I was a more social person this would be the drag king music I would pick tbh.

[all-things-gothic12]

SOME OF MY FAV GOTH (Industrial too) SONGS

For my third post instead of info dumping on a plethora of broader topics like I've done in my previous two posts I thought I'd share some of my favourite Goth songs. Every song on this list in some shape way or form has either inspired me, resonated with me, or I have some sort of nostalgia around.

For this first pick I want to start with one of the more nostalgic songs, "On A Roll" by Ashley O. Now,,, I know what you're probably thinking: This song is not in any way shape or form GOTH. And that's correct but it does lead into actual goth music..

To give context, 'On A Roll' is sung by Ashley O in an episode of Black Mirror, after watching this subsequent episode I dug a bit deeper into the lore of the song and learnt that 'On A Roll' is actually a 'cover' of the hit song 'Head like Hole'. And, although I've always been interested in rock music, listening to this Nine Inch Nails song, absolutely broadened my horizons on music as a whole. Many people argue that Nine Inch Nails is Industrial and not Goth, but there are Gothic elements within NIN so I thought it was appropriate to still include this song on this list. (Also because of how influential it was in my discovery of other industrial + goth bands).

Here's the song itself, and you can see that the imagery of this performance and the lyrics itself are absolutely sublime, with it's edgy aesthetic, meaningful lyrics and total goth rock, industrial aesthetic it's definiently one of my favourites.

Secondly, Type O Negative!

I love this band and one of my favourites songs by them is 'Be My Druidess'. The song itself is super sensual and has super catchy lyrics. Peter Steele's voice carries heavily throughout the entire track, not to forget the amazing backings of every other members insane instruments. It can be listened to as a love song or as something more dance-esque. There's that variability that is great because it's a song you can listen to whenever whereover. (I'm also a sucker for good gothic romance songs lol).

Thirdly, Depeche Mode

This is probably one of their most popular songs ever, and for good reason. I've listened to this song hundreds of times on Spotify. I always end up going back to this song no matter how many times I say it's overplayed lol. This song perfectly encapsulates the dreamy aesthetic of goth-ness. Dave Gahan's vocals are absolutely fantastic, the romantical essence that he's able to convey within this song never grows old. The chorus itself being terribly catchy lol. It's a great dance song and a great love song! Total versatility in that regard.

Finally, I want to touch on a song that I recently just got into even though I've known of the band for agesss.

I've listened to Sisters of Mercy for years but never bothered to check out certain songs/albums just because of pure laziness. Finally, I decided, I'd check out some of their other stuff and wow I was not disappointed. Like their other songs 'More' is totally epic. The opening instrumental with the intense viola? Absolutely blows my mind, the lead in with his raspy vocals and the drums are just fantastic. Not to forget the harmonies with the backup singers. Also, the lyrics themselves? Fantastic, simple yet super in depth, and emotionally expressive. 'More' is truly the epitome of a goth song. And I can't believe I didn't know of the song sooner. But this just goes to show that 'new' songs and bands will always be discovered and that's just fantastical.

Thanks for reading my blog. If you have time please listen to the songs ranted about, they're wonderful.

[venusofvolterra]

Hi! As a baby bat and big Felix fan I'd like to hear more about goth Felix please 🥺

I definitely see Felix as someone who got into gothic literature as it came it emerged and was popularized in the 1800s (and is jealous that Demetri is the inspiration for Dorian Gray and not him).

Gothic literature has always been very cynical about human nature. Not only does this have synergy with Roman sentiments about human nature, Felix had seen the worst of these things in his human life and through time. He sees human life as a continuous struggle for power (and does see humans as uncivilized because of it and therefore his service to the Volturi being for the greater good ). Nonetheless, he finds us incredibly fascinating.

He is also fascinated with the science fiction and fantasy aspects of gothic literature — they get into to the seamy underbelly of human fears, particularly fears around death. If he’s being honest, he too is still toying with these fears. What happens when someone does manage to tear him limb from limb and set him on fire?

I can also see him being a big fan of the fashion from the time as well. He’d always been drawn to the dark and macabre. He likes it’s richness and frankly enjoys the fact that he gets to indulge in such luxuries in his indeed existence.

Now, as it pertains to the modern goth movement, he’d been all about it since it first appeared in the 80s. It’s a call back to all the things he enjoyed about the original goth period and he loves the music and fashion.

His favorite bands include Bauhaus, Type O Negative, Vampire Beach Babes, Catholic Spit, Sisters of Mercy, Rasputina, and She Wants Revenge.

As far as modern goth aesthetics are concerned, he’s partial to trad goth, Victorian goth, and Romantic goth.

Which also brings me to one of the biggest appeals of the goth subculture to Felix — the emphasis on eternal and all-encompassing love. I’ve said before that I truly believe he is a hopeless (Roman)tic who longs for true love. He’d be the kind of lover to die for you and pour his heart and soul into you. He’s definitely the kind of guy to say he doesn’t have sex, he only makes love. It’s a little cheesy but he really is just like an old cliche sometimes.

Okay, I think that’s all I have for now! The original discussion about goth Felix starts here.