#i’m so mad we have two dates this autumn but both are in places that are difficult to reach without having a car

[in-this-light-on-this-evening]

You burn like a bouncing cigarette on the road

All sparks will burn out in the end

[heavyhitterheaux]

FL CONCEPT : The triplets start dating, Jack knew about Axel, but didn’t about the girls so there’s a huge argument.

Ivy came down the steps with you behind her while Jack was half asleep on the couch in the living room. He opened his eyes once he heard the two of you and looked to see that Ivy was dressed up and you were fixing a few stray hairs that had fallen out of place. 

“You look gorgeous, princess. Where are you going?”

“Thank you, daddy. Mommy helped me with it. I’m going on a date with Damion.”

Jack then did a double take.

“On a WHAT? Excuse me? Since when did this happen?”

Ivy looked over to you for help and you simply looked at him dumbfounded.

“What do you mean when did this happen? Didn’t we agree that when they turned 16 that they were allowed to date?” You said since you were now confused at his outburst.

“Yes, we agreed on that but I didn’t know we actually STARTED. Axel came and told me he was, but they are now too?! Who is this boy? I need to meet his parents. I don’t know anything about him.”

“Okay, first off, I already did and calm down before Ivy gets upset because that is the last thing I want.”

“Oh, so you met them and didn’t think that was something to tell me?”

“You weren’t here and he is very nice and actually asked me for permission to take her out on a date. You are literally screaming your head off for nothing.”

“So, now it’s nothing? My daughter…”

“Daughters. Autumn went out on a date too.”

“And no one thinks they need to tell me anything when things like this happen!?”

“Jackman, stop it right now because I can see she’s about to cry and we’ll deal with it later after she leaves.”

“Don’t even Jackman me because you had plenty of opportunities to tell me and you didn’t.”

Just then the doorbell rang and Jack quickly moved past you in order to open the door.

“Mommy, is he mad at me?” Ivy quietly asked when Jack was out of earshot and you quickly shook your head no.

“No, and don’t you worry about it. Go out and have fun while I deal with your grumpy father.” You said while taking her hands in yours and looking up at her since all of your kids got Jack’s height and towered above you. 

“I don’t like when he’s mad at me, maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Hey, hey none of that. I promise he’s not, and I don’t even know what he’s carrying on about because when I started dating him, I was younger than you were. Have fun like I said and you know our safe word. If you ever feel uncomfortable at any time and want to leave, I’m just a text or call away.”

“Thanks, mommy. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby boo. Now come on so Damion can see how pretty you look.”

You held her hand as both of you made your way towards the door and Damion looked terrified.

“Damion! Hi, sweetie! She’s all ready to go. And don’t pay my husband any mind. Now you two have fun and bring her back at 11.”

“Hi Mrs. Harlow! And these are for you and these are for you Ivy.” He said while handing you both a bouquet of flowers. 

“ELEVEN?!”

“Jackman.” You said through gritted teeth.

You both watched the two of them get settled in Damion’s car before going back in the house and all you did was shake your head at him and cross your arms.

“What?”

“You upset our baby! I told you not to and you did it anyway! She thinks that you’re mad at her and said that maybe she shouldn’t go.”

“I just… Y/N.. you have to see where I’m coming from. I didn’t mean to upset her but…”

“I started dating you when I turned 15, did I not?”

“Yes, but…”

“Our babies aren’t stupid and we need to give them a chance. I trust them to make good decisions and you need to as well.”

All Jack did was sigh.

“We agreed on this. I admit that I definitely should have said something to you about it, but Ivy and Autumn wanted to do it themselves just like Axe did.”

“I just… our babies are literally almost adults and I’m not ready.”

“This conversation sounds familiar. And do you remember when we first found out I was pregnant with them and scared shitless? And now look, we’re sixteen years in. They’re going to be fine, just like we were.”

“I’ll… apologize to her when she comes back. At eleven on the dot.”

“Jack, baby..”

“11:01, I’m on the porch, 11:02, I’m in the car, 11:03….”

“We get it, just make sure you apologize to our oldest baby.”

“And you deserve an apology too. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

“And you’re forgiven. I get it that things can be scary when it comes to them doing more and being independent, but you know for a fact they’ll always need us. And wait, what did you say to Damion?!”

“Boys only, babe.”

You immediately rolled your eyes.

[forever-rogue]

HI LOVE, PLS FOR THE AUTUMN PROMPTS #12 WITH BUCKY I’M WHEEZING

AN | This is one of my favorite prompts! You know I love Spooky Szn more than anything!

Warnings | mentions of dying (as a joke); reference to ptsd (in passing); use of pet name (bunny)

Prompt Used | “I paid $50.00 for this haunted house. I better die.”

Masterlist | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I can't believe you managed to convince me to do this," Bucky's face was pulled into a dismissal expression as you beamed at him. You tugged on his arm with excitement as the line moved forward, throwing him a smile almost as sweet as the Halloween candy that had been everywhere for the last two months. He looked over at you, and opened his mouth to say something but stopped to lean down to give you a kiss first, "all I'm saying is that for all the hype this place gets it should be good."

"It will be," you insisted excitedly, "and ugh...it's basically a premium haunted house so...its a little bit more than the average haunted house."

"Premium haunted house?" he raised an eyebrow in surprise as you took his hand and laced your fingers together, "what do you mean?"

"Well, ugh, this is supposed to be really creepy and realistic and actually scare you," you explained sweetly, hoping he wouldn't flip out too much when you revealed how much this place was going to cost, "so you know the saying, you get what you pay for…"

"Oh no," he appeared worried for a moment before being unable to conceal the grin on his face, "alright, out with it. What are you hiding, little bunny?"

"Well, this is the hip, cool haunted house and-"

"How much is it?" you gave him a little smile as he just huffed in bemused exasperation.

"Fifty dollars…"

"Fifty dollars-"

"Each."

"Fifty dollars each?!" for a moment his expression grew worried as you just give him a nervous smile, "you know, back when I was young-"

"I know, I know," you pulled him forward with you, "you walked twenty miles to and from school in old shoes, and you worked for a dollar a week. Well times are different and these days we're paying for premium haunted houses. Besides, I asked you on this date, so it's technically my treat. Just relax and have fun!"

"Fine," he agreed, "you're an odd one, little bunny. But I still love you."

"And just how am I odd?"

"Who enjoys paying money to get scared?"

"A lot of people apparently since haunted houses are a huge commodity!" you huffed and lightly stomped your foot as if to prove your point, "I promise it'll be fun! And if for some reason you're still Mr. Grumpy Boots afterwards, we'll do whatever you want."

"Fine," Bucky was never one to turn down a challenge, "for someone that gets frightened by her own shadow, you sure do love Halloween a lot."

"Halloween is everything baby," your eyes practically lit up at the mention of your favorite holiday, "you know it's the best time of year for so many reasons! Foods, the aesthetic, fall - all of it. You can't out argue me on this one!"

"I'm not even going to try and bother," you were nearing the ticket booth and growing more and more excited by the second. Bucky could practically feel your excitement radiating onto him as you clutched his hand tightly, "I'm glad you're happy. That's all that matters."

"I am happy. You make me so happy," you promised and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "I love you, James. Hey - are you okay with this? Like really, if you don't want to, we can figure something else out."

"I'm okay," he promised, offering you a small smile, "really. I love you too. Now, let's go and get scared."

"Yay! Oh Bucky, you're the best! I love you so much," you almost jumped into his arms when he so easily acquiesced to your request. When it came down to it, you knew he would do just anything for you, "if this totally sucks, you know I'll try and make it up to you."

"All I'm saying is that I'm going to pay Fifty-five dollars for this haunted house. I better die," he looked at you with such a straight face, for a moment you couldn't tell if he was joking or serious; but you both quickly burst into laughter, "come on!"

“Alright - but don’t get mad when your wish comes true and you die!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That wasn’t too bad at all,” you shrugged as you walked out of the haunted house, into the now chilly autumn evening. You stopped for a moment to admire the stars before noticing that Bucky was slowly trailing behind you, no longer at your side. You snorted lightly before crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him, “what? James...did you…did that actually scare you?”

“What?! No,” he insisted with a dramatic scoff as a grin stretched across your features, “that was child’s play at best. The costumes weren’t even that convincing. But I hope you had fun, baby.”

“I did,” you held out your hands towards him, still not convinced that he was telling the truth, “why don’t we-”

“BOO!” the voice behind Bucky was enough to make him jump out of his skin as he yelped and practically sprinted over to you. You almost doubled over in laughter as Bucky shoved you in front of him as a human shield, “you jumped! Actually jumped!”

“Sam!” Bucky groaned at the sight of his best friend wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he walked over to you, his girlfriend Leila at his side, and shaking her head at his childishness. You exchanged a look with her and rolled your eyes at your silly boyfriends, “you’re an asshole.”

“Had to capitalize on the moment,” Sam laughed as Bucky sighed, “man, I can’t believe you didn’t realize we were behind you. What happened to the White Panther - too busy being scared?”

“I was...I was not scared!”

“You were too!”

“Boys,” you quickly interrupted the two of them, “why don’t both of you shut up and we can all go out and get dinner? Then the two of you can be idiots and argue and I can actually spend time with someone with a brain.”

“Hey!” they echoed in unison as you linked arms with Leila and the two of you skipped away to your cars. They would catch up soon enough.

“Love you!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings!)

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[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

[semischarmed]

Clarity

My hot roommate Zach is the perfect man. I think I won the cosmic lottery when we got paired freshman year. “Roommates for life!” he shouted, as he wrapped a tone arm around me in a side-hug. I chuckled, of course. Who knew the cutest guy in our dorm was such a dork. I remember that moment vividly, committed every last detail to memory. In what he likely only barely remembers, I recall to the last detail. I play it back often -even moreso, nowadays: The crisp autumn breeze. The filtered sunlight through amber trees, bathing us both in golden afternoon. The warmth of his touch, and the unintended taunt from his arm pulling me towards him and his jacket ever so slightly wrapping over my back. The slight, dense smell of coffee wafting from him and his minty breath cutting through. Thats how I remember him. Warm. Sincere. Safe. Zach would probably say that was the moment we became best friends. I, on the other-hand, would say that was the exact moment when I fell for him.

We did everything together from then on: Ate together, joined the same clubs, signed up to the same classes- that first year we were inseparable. Best friends to a tee. I’m not even sure what he saw in me- the guy was a hell of a lot more sociable than I was. He could literally find anyone else on campus, yet I had the privilege of being his roommate and friend. I commit that wonderful first year to my life. It is my happiest year to date. I commit that version of Zach to myself as well.

Trouble started early in our second year. He spent all summer back home, hanging out with his high school friends and his brothers. When we finally met back in our new room, he seemed distant. Still, I made the effort, getting closer and closer to him every day. He’d been sending signals too, I think. A stray touch, just a half second too long. A lingering stare in my direction. A gentle smile when I ask him a bout his day. I had to know for myself with certainty. 

So, one terrifying October night, I asked him straight up.The fucker laughed. Cruel, hideous, insensitive laughter. I’d never felt more alone in my life than when he laughed at my confession. That broke something in me. I quickly ran to my bed, crying myself to sleep. Without skipping a beat, Zach left the room to grab a bite to eat, seemingly unchanged by my outright confession. I had never been so humiliated in my life, yet only he would ever know. Still I felt him hold that over me in the weeks to follow like a dark cloud. Of course he’d still offer hangouts. He’d ask for help with some dumb assignment or try to get me to open up by faking some issues about himself. He was mocking me. I felt his sneer, ever-present from behind. Thats when I began researching alternative methods to exact what I needed from him.

Why a private university had a book like this is beyond me. It was a spellbook. A dangerous one, at that. All manner of incantation and processes regarding the human soul. I poured myself the next few weeks on its pages religiously. Translation is a massive pain in the ass but it gets done.

“Love cannot be created by spell,” it stated. Leave it to a fucking book to let me down too. I wiped away stray tears until I caught sight of the last batch of spells. I sighed at its contents. Fine. I couldn’t make him love me through magic, but I could have him the next best way. His body. The final section of this book of spells is, of course, the curses and enchantments required to possess another being.

———

The preparations have been made. It’s another late, awkward night in our room, where he just passes by, gives me a nod and a grimace and then heads to bed. This night would be different. I chant the words. The price is steep. Half of my body’s lifespan for the ability to take someone over in their sleep. That’s the one I settled on. Of course, there were more permanent spells outlined, but this seemed to be a happy medium.

The magic is dark in nature, and I feel the cloud over me deepen. I feel myself detach. It’s weightless, but grounded. Makes sense, given the purpose of this spell. I watch my target and lick my astral lips. There he was, happily dreaming without a care in the world. I study every curve, like sculpture. He is muscled, but tone. Zach likes to sleep with his shirt off, so I get to see what powerful chest up close. I watch as powerful lungs, drawn in air before gently dispersing it. Perfection. I watch that beautiful face lie still in a satisfied smile. Angelic. This body is power, incarnate. My power, soon.

I follow closes until I am but inches from his face. I stir around him, slightly. I want him to know it’s me. Bleary eyes open and he gives a weak smile when he sees me. “Dude-” the smile quickly fades to shock. “Wait what the fuck...” in sinful glee I push into my man. He involuntarily absorbs my particles, my spirit. He tries to push me away, to get me off him. Hands are useless to stop me. I phase through them with no resistance. His breath quickens as he begins to panic. This only further brings me into him, as he is forced to breath in the only air around him-me. 

Then, he starts choking, trying to force the parts of me in him out. I am unfazed. Instead, in I keep filling into him until all of me is inside. This is the way we were meant to be. He pulses and convulses and chokes while I align myself into him. I revel in Zach. In being Zach. Despite all the shit he pulled this year, he still is perfection. My perfection, now. 

I command his lips mine. “Invoke me. Become me. Manipulate this body. Explore us. Stay, in me. I want you here, forever.” They’re not words he usually uses. I rile in a frenzy when these phrases leave his lips at my behest. When his voice becomes my own and I make us moan. When his body complies with my every whim. When Zach’s flesh is mine. It is euphoric. Orgasmic even. I intend to follow through, to reward it. To pleasure it. God it feels good being in him. Being him. He may not love me, but love me he will, even if indirectly. Every waking moment I spend inside this man will be a moment of him loving himself, loving me. Now, And then I feel it. I clutch my head in pain. Zach.

Veins strain in his forehead as he puts every last effort to exorcise me out. Resistance almighty in this body. In tears I feel myself stripped from momentary heaven. He chokes as a dense fog that is me escapes his mouth. He is successful.

When I am kicked out of his body abruptly, I flare in anger. How could he do this? How could he? I look back at my slumbering form. No matter. My resolve is steel. Somehow, somewhere deep inside me, I knew somewhere it had to come to this. I chant the final curse mentioned in the spellbook. The price is the steepest of them all.

I watch as my physical form dissipates. I writhe as I am renewed with newfound energy. Potency. Virility. I’ve put in everything. Everything I ever was into becoming him. Zach would be mine, no matter what. 

Before he can readjust, before he can even think about what had just occurred, I flood back inside my man. Inside my body. My one true body, now, given what I had to sacrifice. I make him smile while he takes me in. Smile in preparation of a new, permanent driver. I thrust my astral form inside its new home. It’s warm. Roomy. muscular. We make this body grin, shout, cry, writhing all the way in its sheets in our battle for control. I’m not even sure he knows what he’s doing when he fights me- but he always was a natural in everything he picked up. I feel our shared muscle contract and relax as it is forced to accept its two masters- soon to be one. Soon to be me. Zach’s soul was strong but no one was a match for the full force of an entire human body-turned-spirit. I feel his soul start to lose footing. Jackpot. Immediately fill take its place. My place.

I was far deeper in Zach now than I was before. His essence struggles, trying to escape me but I keep us steady, hold us tight. Our minds begin to connect this time around and we sync. The book said this was a necessary step. I blink away our tears into a satisfied smile. Our face is flush from the fight, flush from my greatest victory. “You’re mine forever,” I think to myself, My words. The verbalization of my invasive thoughts in his head- they’re spoken in his tongue. In his jock-like inflection. I even now think in his voice. Of course, it’s relatively minor in the grand scheme of things. Yet it is undeniable proof. The finality of it all. Proof that my body no longer existed in this world. Proof that for me, forever, Zach would be my default. Just one last step to it all. One last push- I’ve already given this much, there was no going back. I would displace Zach as the true owner of this body. It’s as the final line in the book states: “Encapsulate their soul, devour it, digest it, make it yours. Then, true control at long last.”

Tears stream down our shared cheeks as we both realize the true gravity, the true consequences of my actions. We are synced now, but I haven’t yet completed the process. So, our emotions are a mix. So, it’s bittersweet. He’s mine. We’re one. I’m finally with Zach in a way most intimate. Despite it all, he isn’t fighting back. Why?

I rage inside him, wanting him to be mad, wanting him to hate me, to give me justification my ultimate transgression. He offers none. Instead, I am hit with borrowed clarity. More of his memory floods into me and I begin to cry. 

I watch my every worst moment through his lens, relive the demons of my past and yet, from his perspective they never looked quite as dark or traumatic as I had made them out to be. Even my confession itself, my initial catalyst, had merely been a blip in Zach’s mind. If anything, he had been more concerned that his own nervous laughing was the cause of my spiraling. I quickly realize how much wasted time I spent, building up Zach into this god in my head. My god. In the end, he was human after all.

I feel Zach pull instances of himself from my memories in turn. It turns out he had many, many insecurities as well. Many moments where he needed validation or support. Many moments, even in recent memory, where I had never picked up on on his fear and self doubt. An offhand comment here. Some self-deprecation there. Of course, stupid me always there to respond by telling him to quit joking around. I felt the months of torment he felt in my coldness after my confession. He wasn’t making fun of me or being an ass, he wasn’t even patronizing (well, he wasn‘t trying to at least)- he thought he was losing a friend. The guy was just a bit oblivious. God I was so dumb. Of course, he blames himself for my eventual actions. Poor guy. Zach didn’t deserve any of this- he never did. “Thank you” he cries in new clarity.

In mental tears I begin to undo my connection to him. It’s not something he had the capacity to do himself- I made that a reality when I used my physical form as tribute. I know the price which must be paid, for my greatest sin, born from misunderstanding. There wouldn’t be much left for me- the price for the spell was my physical body after all. It didn’t matter. I made that choice for myself when I recited the spell. But Zach... he had no choice at all. He still had a chance at a life. A life well-lived with knowledge and confidence gained from my memory. It was the least I could give him.

I begin to drift away as I balance the cosmic scales. I detach the last of myself from Zach, ready to give him back his body, ready to return him to his life. It’s merely a reverse of the process from before, yet it all feels lighter somehow. I take it as a sign of karmic justice. Of course, I am scared. Who knows what awaits me? Maybe I can find another body to inhabit. Maybe one in a coma. Maybe i’ll be reincarnated. Maybe nothing. Maybe I’ll just vanish on the spot...

Zach doesn’t give me the chance to find out. I feel his astral hand holding on to mine. His face is sympathetic. Kind. Warm. Like it used to be. Like it always was. His body leans up to pull me into a warm embrace. I start crying in spirit. “You, you don’t have to do this-” 

“I know” he says. He pulls me tighter. “Roommates for life, remember?” Now he’s crying. “There’s no way to go back- we both know that, but you still got a life to live-we both do.” He smiles as he guides me to himself. I reattach to him. We weave our souls as one. “C’mon man, I told you I grew up sharing a room.” I am a complete mess of emotions at this point. Unworthiness, Love, Relief. I feel his mess too. Neither of us knew where to go from here, but we both knew we’d face it together.

The experience was sobering, to say the least. We cried together that night. We cried at newfound realization. We cried at irreversibility of what I had done. Hell, we even cried at the extra rent that had to now be paid. I had no way of undoing what I did, and Zach wouldn’t let me go. In the end, we decide to just give it a go, a resolve to live as one person. “Zach 2.0,” as he jokingly put it. Dork.

———

“A happy accident,” is what Zach called the events of that night. He always was the optimist. Although, these days, I’m a bit of an optimist now too. I am Zach now too, after all. All things considered, we’ve done quite well together. Zach 2.0 was everything. We were smart, intuitive, confident, compassionate. We’ve made this body the healthiest it’s ever been. Hell, together we even graduated with honors, something neither of us could ever hope to do alone. Both our parents were real proud of that one- he told mine at my funeral that we had been together and we’ve been in close contact ever since. By no means were we the perfect man though. There was no perfect man. We’ve had our share of fights, struggles, times where one of us would take full control of this body we share, shut the other out.

Once in a blue moon, we both dream of what our lives could have ended up as, had I not done what I did or had he let me disappear that night. In retrospect, I really do think my life had a lot of things going for it. Hindsight is always 20/20, as he likes to say. I saw many an opening, so many areas for improvement that my younger self was blinded by in lust and perceived betrayal. There was so much life I could have lived, had I just not opened that stupid book. I don’t dwell on it too much though. We’re both quite happy sharing this body. I’m living in one body with my crush, whats not to like?

The first few months were quite jarring. Our friends and family would see us happy and outgoing at one moment and then flip to quiet and reserved on a flip of the switch. Gratefully, they been patient with us, assuming it was the byproduct of a grieving boyfriend. The more years I grow with him, the more alike we have become. Sharing one body and living one life tends to do that. I’ve probably rubbed off on him a little too. He’s just a bit more analytical now, a bit more perceptive, and I’ve learned to let loose every once in a while. Altogether, we make a great team. We’ve even managed a slew of relationships along the way. Hell, he’s even gone out with some guys-no doubt a byproduct of my soul being a part of him. Of course, in the ultimate cruel twist of fate, they never last- he tells me “none ever match me”. Well of course they can’t. I’ve lived every moment with him, felt his every thought, lifted him when he was up, consoled him when he was down. Ironically, in a roundabout way, the spell did end up causing love, causing for him to fall for me- at the cost of us never being able to be a couple in the physical sense. Guess you really can’t have it all.

In the few years we spent together my love for him has only deepened. I know he feels the same way. We are one person, after all. All things considered, it’s not a bad setup. If love on the physical plane happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t- then we still always have each other. Regardless, I’m sure we’ll find someone out there for the both of us, someday-there’s that optimism again. Of course, we don’t pine for it. Our main focus has always been each other. Growing together. We’ve got a whole life yet to live. And he’ll have me with him every step of the way. And we can’t wait to face it all, together.

-End-

Eh, it’s a bit underdeveloped but I’m not a novelist and I didn’t want to spread this out over parts. Going for something a little different with number 14- hope y’all like it!

[wh0re-4-techno]

8. Don’t Kiss And Tell

Description: Going on a small lunch date with Techno at the Library. Guess who you run into.

Words: 3989

Last part :: Next part

Stepping out of his office, the two of you walk down the hall. He kindly took your bookbag on his shoulder.

"You know I have to thank you." You simply say, your shoes slight squeezing on the flooring. "Why is that?" He questions with his hands in his pocket. "Well, I don't think I would have the courage to ask you out." You turn towards up at him. "Even though we do casual make out now."

Right before leaving his office he changed, slipping into a pink crewneck sweatshirt and a pair of more comfortable shoes as he wore dress shoes for class. While doing so, you fixed yourself up too. Re-doing you makeup with you "To Go" bag you always had in your book bag.

He looks back down at you, "I'm glad I did too, I didn't even think you would say yes." He admits to you, it really didn't make sense though to you. "Why so? I thought I made it clear that I really liked you in your office." Winking up at him, his cheeks flashing a shade of rosy pink as he remembered what you two were doing an about half an hour. "Yes, I really liked that too, but I was just nervous." His cheeks still pink, which was adorable. "By the way, pink looks great on you." You complement the tall man. "Why thank you darling." How you wished you could hold his hand, he thinks the same.

Both of you go down the hall and stairwell, heading out the main doors to the campus.

The air was fresh on Autumn leaves, seeing as there was lesser leaves falling. But that induction meant it was mid-autumn. The air made the breeze that chilled you down after your heated make out session in his office.

You where still anxious to walk with him, but to the other students you were just having a conversation with a Professor and nothing else was happening between the two of you.

Pulling out your phone to texted Minx.

Y/n to Minx:

I'm sorry but I won't make it for field lunch

Looking back up to Techno, he had a sweet smile plastered on as you walk beside him. Excited for you little date. But getting your attention back to your phone.

Minx to Y/n;

It's okay :( Are you doing that assignment you told me about???

Y/n to Minx:

Ofc I'll meet you at the dorm in about an hour or so

You felt this strange feeling of guilt for not telling your best friend on what you were doing. But on the other hand you couldn't really tell her you where on your way to have a date with your Professor. As you waited for her response, Techno looks down at you, "Do you have any place in mind you want to go?" He asks, but your mind goes blank. Where could you given go without looking slightly suspicious?

"Like on campus?" You question him, there was no way in hell you where going to the café and have coffee with your Professor, or have a picnic on the field. That would look even more suspicious and the possibility to run into Minx. "We can if you want. I was thinking off campus though." He explains, looking for your reaction. Which you agree with, that was the smarter decision to do. "How 'bout a book store?" He says, that sounds pretty nice as you think about it. "It's quite..." He continues, but he pulls out his hands out of his pockets, pointing out with his finger. "No students would see us. And I kind of wanna show you a few book I think you would like." He had that same giddy smile as earlier. But his points did make a good defense, but you weren't going to deny his offer to a book store and watch him get happy being surrounded by books of literature.

And that he wanted to show you some books, it sounded too good to be true. But it was.

"Would you like to get coffee after? But not at the school café." He looked back up, he had a questionable face. "That sounds lovely darling." He says. Smiling as both of you continue to walk. Slowly you step closer to him.

------

Opening the door to the local book shop that was only a few blocks off the campus. A little ring on a bell once you step in, which Techno let you in first as he always does.

And there was the first time he did it.

He held your hand.

His hand was large compare to yours, which wasn't that surprising as he was much taller than you. But it made you feel like fine china as he held your soft hand with such care and gentleness. His thumb swipping lightly over the back of your hand.

You shifted your gaze up to him, seeing him not mention it as it was like nothing happened between you.

A small smile played on your lips, walking in the book shop and watching as Techno lead you the way through. It was quite small but cute. It smelt as freshly burning sage and coffee lingered as well.

Stopping to a halt, a rather large bookshelf that was made out of dark colored wood, the paneling was beautiful. How you wished you could have a bookshelf like this one in your student housing, but knowing damn well that thing would never fit or even match any furniture you would have.

"It's lovie isn't." Techno spoke softly, making sure you were the only one to hear him, even though you where pretty sure you and a few other customers where in this place. But non the less you question him on what he meant, he realizes and clarifies. "The shelf. I have similar ones in my office but still. They are very nice." He admires the shelf for another second before going back to the book of which he held. He wasn't telling lies though, they where very nice. And he did in fact have similar ones.

You lean yourself against his arm, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn't flinch one bit, he was too fixated on the books. His eyes scanning everything. Carelessly you just stand with him, taking this all in.

Reading the small few paragraphs recapping what happens in the story you simply fell for it. "It sounds very interesting." Looking up at him with a bright smile.

But hearing a small "Ah." From him draws you back to him. With his free hand he reaches for a book. It was hard cover that was a bright yellow like the sun. With large red letter spelling out the title, along with two men leaning into each other.

"The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg. Highly recommend." He passes you the book, his attention was on you now. Watching as you held it. Looking at the cover, it was very nice and once you flipped it to the back to read the description. 

As you where about to place it back in the shelf along with a collection of other books Techno stops you. "Are you not going to take it?" In his voice was a slight sting as it was like it hurt to watch you pit back a book he recommended to you. "Well I don't have my money with me, I couldn't buy it-" You tell him so his feeling weren't hurt but he interrupts you. "I'll pay for it." He says.

You pull him down by your hand beginning connected. Stepping on your tippy-toes you place a kiss on his cheek. As a way to say thank you. He gladly excepted your thanks for the book as he turned down and kisses you on your lip, it was short and sweet but something in your head was telling you that you wanted more of him.

He stands up completely, "Any other books that I might be interested in?" You ask him as he walks you down to the next isle.

Looking around as this isle was completely full on non-fiction books. Of course he would be into non-fiction as he was a history teacher, knowing he would most likely pull out 10 books of famous historians for you to binge read.

"Y/n?" Someone asks behind the two of you, you quickly pull your hand away from Techno. As much as you didn't want to, you still did so. That voice, it sounded like someone you know put you just couldn't pin it down, well until you turn to the voice. It was him, "Hey Karl."

A small wave as a welcome to him as he walks towards you. You smile, even though you were pretty sure it looked uncomfortable and awkward. Karl still walked up to you and Techno.

Techno turns to you, seeing as to why you stopped holding his hand with confused, but that quickly drops once he sees this random guy. But soon to find out that he knows you. "How've you been, we haven't talked since the party." He sounds happy to see you, but maybe a little sad that you didn't text him at all, not even once.

Karl reaches out for a hug, which you hug him back. When Karl pulls away his eye drift down to your neck for a split second, but quickly making a double take. Seeing hickeys scattered across your neck. "I've been good Karl. How are you?" You ask him, Karl got rid of the thoughts that you had someone else kiss you and leaving thoughts marks, but was becoming more difficult. Techno stands behind you, looking down at the younger boy. "Really good, oh! Alex says thank you for his coat being brought back to him. So tell Minx that as well." He chuckles, he was very charming, but not good as Techno. That was loud and clear, but not to most people apparently. "I will tell her that, but I'm pretty sure they've been texting constantly." You roll your eyes at the thoughts of Minx messaging someone non-stop for the past few day, the bright light of her screen as she giggles.

He laughs at what you said, which you join in, "So whatcha doing here? The campus has a library." He ask, his eyes looking around and looking back at Techno, unsure how you knew this older man. "I could say the same to you." You quirk an eyebrow at him, "Well I don't like how they're people from school there, so I come here. But seeing you here I might have go to another one." He jokes with you, placing his hand on your arm. Again your laughing with him. Techno takes notice of this whole ordeal.

"Unless you would want to join me and go to another book store." He plainfully flirts with you, it was the first time you where asked out to go on a date with two men on the same day, non the less an hour apart. Techno, doesn't necessarily get mad about Karl flirty with you as he didn't know you where on a date with Techno. He wanted to tell Karl that you were his and only his. But he thought it was slightly amusing to watch Karl do it, trying his hardest to win you over, not so smoothly. "I'm actually hanging out with my- my friend." You turn your head to Techno, who had a grin plastered on his face. Unsure how to even tell Karl who he was, because you couldn't say that he was your teacher. He sticks out his hand, you stand in-between the two men.

The two men who fancy you.

It was a little awkward, "Just friends?" Techno questions with a smirk, letting you have to make an explanation rather then him. Karl on the other hand is confused on what he meant by that. "Don't listen to him." You ignore Techno's statement and put your focus on Karl. But Karl was going to question Techno. "How do you know Y/n?" He asks, slightly deepening his voice. You shift your eyes to him, what the hell was he doing? Techno knew exactly what he was doing, trying to intimate him, he didn't think of Karl as a threat to your relationship with him. "I'm in her class." Techno shakes his hand and pulls away from him. "Which one?" Karl sounds a little pushy, which was strange as moments ago he was calm like a clam. It was becoming more obvious that Karl wasn't the most happy to see you with such an older man and they you two where hanging outside of campus. Karl was starting to place it together, with all the clue. The hickeys, him saying "just friends", and how you tried not say you two weren't on a date. But it was obvious.

"Do I need to say?" Techno plays with him, it was clear as the blue sky as Karl was slightly jealous to Techno. Again, hella awkward for you.

Breaking off the tension that was building rather quickly. "Alrightty, it was good to see you again Karl. But we actually have to go." You tell Karl and somewhat to Techno. Karl looks away from Techno, putting on a smile once he turns to you. "It was a pleasure to see you again. You do have my number, so if you ever wanna meet up." He winks at you before turning away from you. Glaring at Techno for a second. Walking off towards the door.

Both of you wait for the door to ring, which does, he left.

Looking back to Techno with a dead pan look, "Really Techno." You stare up at him, "What? He was the one flirty with you." You chuckle at him, men. "He didn't even say bye to me, rude." He chuckles at his comment. He shrugs off his shoulder, giving you his full attention once again.

"He seems sweet though." You roll your eyes at him, hitting his arm playfully which he chuckles at. "Do you like him?" He asks, not in a jealous way but in a more curious tone. At least that's what he wanted you to think. "Don't get me wrong, he's cute. But no, I only met him this Tuesday." You explain to him, he quirks an eyebrow with a stiff laugh.

"And I'm into someone else." You tell him honestly. The same goofy smile was on his face from earlier. He bends down slightly, "And who might be that darling?" He questions already know the answer, you give in and tell him, "You of course." Once again you kiss his cheek. "Good to know, because you have a bunch of hickeys from me." You wack him on his chest this time, giving him a glare, basically telling him to shut up. But he just smirks at you. "Com'on I'm not wrong. You love it don't you?" He still at your eye level, taunting you. He raises his eyebrow, waiting for your response, which he also knew the answer too. But he just wanted to hear the words come out of your mouth.

You play along with his game, leaning to his ear, "You're never wrong Mr. Blade. Only you can mark me up like you do." Pulling away slowly, connecting your eyes while doing so. But before you can fully retreat away he grabs ahold of your arm, not hesitating to let go. Now that you were playing along, there was no way out.

Kissing you slowly, getting pulled in like a tide. It was passionate and full of wanting for each other, but before you could continue it, Techno pulls away. That cheek son of a bitch, but the same could be said about you.

-----

The smell of espresso was different than the school campus café, more exquisite. More expensive, but to be fair this coffee shop is a little pricer then the schools.

It felt weird for him buying you stuff, sure it was only a few books and now a coffee, you really didn't want him to do that. You were a grown woman and can buy whatever you wanted.

But on the other hand, it was very kind of him to do so.

Both of you stand in line. You were next to order and already had a drink on mind that you could order. Looking at Techno, he was eyeing the black chalk board with white lettering. He seemed a tad bit confused about what everything meant. He leaned down to his side, whispering to you, "You don't mind if I get a tea?" He did look like the person who would prefer tea over coffee and it was quite obvious too. You giggle a little, "You don't need to ask me, get whatever you want handsome." He smiles at what you said, slight pink blush on his cheeks by what you called him.

Ordering was simple on and Techno paid right away.

Both of you wait for your drink by the corner. Looking around the café to see if you recognize anyone from your classes, none of the customers where recognizable, which was a huge relief.

"You never told me why you didn't do that homework assignment." He says looking down at you. "Well, in your own words you said "I could careless about that stupid assignment" so..." You draw out the "so". He looked away from you, you were right.

He reached down you to your hand, holding it once again. Rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

The barista calls for the both of you, grabbing the drinks and heading for a small round wooden table by the front. Huge windows lining the wall, letting in the natural light into café.

While sitting you take a sip over your drink before he asks you once again, "Why didn't you do it?" You look up at him, confused at what he meant, but back to the conversation. This time around he asks more blunt, there wasn't a way to be coy. Deciding it was best to tell him up front, "I was at a house party Tuesday. I was hungover on Wednesday, but still went to class. So I just never got around to it." You tell him, taking another sip of your coffee. "You actually went to class hungover?" He asks almost like he forgot everything else you said. "Yes." You give him a look, like a "duh". He chuckles at you.

Thinking back to the party, "I actually met Karl at that party." You point out, which makes Techno slightly bite the inside of his cheek. A little frustrated that we we're talking about that boy again. "He was nice, he put me and Minx in my car so I wouldn't think we did anything when I woke up." You explain to him, that point it made Techno thoughts stop, smiling at how he was nice. Plus it made a tad more sense that he really wanted to go on a date with you. "That is very kind of him." You simply nod to him.

Placing your hand on the table to take yours, which you give him your hand once again. "I really don't want to go back." You tell him, referring to campus and school which he got quickly, he takes a sip of his tea. The slight noise of the other customers in the shop was very relaxing for the both of you. "I could say the same thing darling, but I do get paid there so..." He jokes with you, which you chuckle too. "Plus I get to see you there." He was right, both of you see each other two day a week. Even though it wasn't the best, it still was an option. "I wish we spent more time together." Looking down at your hand, which was interlocked with his. How you wanted to do this every second, but physical impossible to do.

He sees your little dismay, he felt that same thing.

"You know what?" He shrugs his shoulder, drawing your attention back to him. "We should have dinners on Fridays? Does that seem like a good option?" He asks, hope and excitement filling his voice. A toothy smile awaits for your response. It was a good option for you, you only had one class that day and didn't really makes plans. But then there was Minx. She would normally makes the plans for herself and bring you along, even though you really didn't want too.

This was better then going to some clubs and getting hungover and waking up in someone random person bed, now you could possibly wake up in his bed.

Thinking for another split second. "That sounds like a plan Mr. Blade." The smirk on that man's face was make you close your legs. Now you have plans on Friday, thinking about it. That was tomorrow.

-----

He walked besides you, his hands in his pockets now, unable to hold onto your.

Maybe it's because it was fall or the two of you were out so long, the sun was starting to darken to a beautiful sunset. Which lit up the sky with a burnt orange with purples and pink.

Looking up Techno, he's already looking at you with a sweet smile. Just admiring you at how you stared up at the sky. God, he would never be able to get over you...

He reaches up to your cheek, his fingers locked around your chin as his thumb swiped your lips. His eyes looking back and forth between your eyes and back to your lips. Softly he spoke, "So pretty..." Like it was just for him to say. Saying it as a fact to the universe. Just restating it.

He bends down. Leaning your head to the side while standing on your tippy-toes to get more into the kiss. Forgetting that you where on campus and in front of everyone, that was the thing. It didn't scare you, not one bit. No one was outside your dorm building or walking by.

Slowly pulling away from each other, his hand still on your face. "I'll call you tomorrow about that date." He smoothly says, sliding his hand off of you. He hands you your bookbag from his shoulder, you kind of felt bad for him holding it all this time on your date. But tomorrow he won't need to hold it. With a wink he started to walk off.

Opening the door to the entrance and making it up the stairs well, once inside you squeal with excitement. Letting your hands flare.

Smiling to yourself while stepping into the dorm.

"There you are!" Minx reaches out for you, pulling you into a hug. "Yeah, I was just handing out with someone." You tell her, not exactly saying you were on a date with your Professor, but close enough. "Was it Karl? Is that why you where out again today!" That was Techno she was referring too, you weren't going to say that though. Not wanting to lie to her anymore, decided to play around with her.

Shrugging with a smirk you don't tell her. Heading to your side on the small room and placing your bag on the bed. She follows right behind you, preparing for you to tell her who you were with, but that never came. "Don't be a tease!" She whines, pissed off why you didn't even text her back, which you just remembered you didn't text her back. "I don't kiss and tell Minx." You say while hopping on your bed. "Fuck you." She says, flipping you off.

taglist:

@alexandrium @aplaintart @sadassflatass @sugarcoated44 @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @sammyxn @bbnoloves @l-O-ser @elly-isabella @fudrudy

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[laurenairay]

Pumpkin Carving - A. Burakovsky

Summary: carving pumpkins with your boyfriend Andre and your nieces gets a little competitive.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: minor injury (nothing serious, but a little blood), super cuteness

A/N: Burky is such an adorable goofball, I love him  💚 

“Did you seriously injure yourself carving a pumpkin?” - prompt is from this list - one of the autumn/fall stories I promised myself I would write. Written after encouragement from @jamiedrysdales​ - and thank you to @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ for hyping me up with this one! 💖

~~~

Any time you could spend with your nieces was a blessing. Now that you’d graduated college and were working full time, the amount you saw them had massively decreased, so the weekends that you were able to, you definitely took advantage of being the best aunt you could be. This weekend was only a few days before Halloween, meaning it was time for your annual pumpkin carving competition – every year your two nieces would each draw a design in marker pen on their pumpkin and you plus another adult would do the actual carving for them (usually their mom). Whoever had the ‘best’ design would ‘win’ (of course they both got a prize) – it was just a silly little bit of fun but you treasured the family tradition.

This year you’d roped your boyfriend Andre into helping.

He’d only met your nieces a few times in the year that you’d been dating, the schedules not really having worked out, but as soon as you’d suggested the pumpkin carving he was all in. He’d arrived at your apartment nearly an hour before your nieces were due to arrive, buzzing with excitement (and maybe a little too much caffeine), to help you set up the carving stations.

Oh yes, you took things that seriously.

Either side of your dining table you set up old newspapers, 2 medium sized pumpkins, 2 thick markers and 2 thin markers, as well as the small pumpkin carving knives that you and Andre would use.

“Will this bowl do?”

You whipped your head around, smiling at the plastic bowl your boyfriend had brought in from the kitchen. That size would be just about right, good job Andre.

“Yes, perfect for the guts,” you nodded.

“Guts?!” Andre yelped.

You couldn’t help but giggle, making him blush deeply.

“The insides of the pumpkins – the stringy, gooey, seedy bits that need to be scooped out before we can draw and carve. I like to separate the seeds out later and roast them for snacks,” you grinned.

“Sounds disgusting. I’m in,” Andre grinned back.

You dug out the kids-size aprons you kept for arts and crafts activities and draped them over the back of the chairs, before putting your hands on your hips. Yes, this would do nicely. You jumped slightly as Andre slid his arms around you from behind, but melted into his embrace as his hands settled on your waist.

“You really put so much thought into this, don’t you?” he murmured.

You bit your lip, but nodded. “Yeah, it’s one of my favourite times of year and the girls love it too. It’s messy, silly and fun – we always have a good time,”

Andre smiled into your neck, pressing a light kiss behind your ear, making the skin tingle slightly. “I’m excited to share it with you,”

You spun around in his arms, smiling up at him as your slid your hands up his chest, his hands moving to rest on your ass.

“I’m excited to share it with you too,” you said softly.

Andre just smiled a little wider, before leaning down to kiss you.

You lost time exchanging slow sweet kisses, tongues light and teasing, never building to anything raunchy but just a gradual swell of intensity that had your body buzzing. You could feel Andre half hard against your stomach, but you knew it wasn’t going anywhere before your nieces arrived – that just wasn’t the vibe at all. Just being close to him, running your fingers through his curls, touching him, tasting him, that was all that you needed right now. Eventually your kisses slow down to a few gentle pecks, until you were breathing heavily. Andre’s lips were lightly swollen and pink, his eyes a little wide, and you knew you looked the same way. Damn he looked good.

“I’m going to, uh, get some drinks ready?” you said, a little breathless.

Andre just nodded, licking his bottom lip. Damn. You quickly turned and walked away, unable to stop the stupid smile on your face. You really did feel so giddy around him sometimes.

It was only a few minutes later when your doorbell rang, so placed the glasses of juice on the table before heading to let your nieces in.

“Aunt Y/N!”

You grinned at their squeals, laughing as they threw their arms around you. “Are you two ready to have fun carving pumpkins with Andre and I?”

“Yes! Is he here already?” your oldest niece asked, clearly excited.

You nodded, smiling down at her. “Yeah he’s here – why don’t you two go wash your hands and put your aprons on,”

They ran past you with happy cheers, making you laugh again as you bid goodbye to their mom. How they had that much energy was beyond you. By the time you reached them at the carving stations, they were both already sat down with their aprons, wiggling in their seats in anticipation. Andre winked at you, making you blush a little.

“Alright, who wants to be paired with Andre?” you asked, rolling your eyes playfully at him.

“Me please!” your youngest niece said immediately.

You could see the relief in Andre’s eyes that he hadn’t been a reluctant choice – you’d told him he wouldn’t be, but you were glad that you were able to prove yourself right. He sat down next to her, big smile on his face, and you sat down opposite him next to your oldest niece, who beamed at you.

“So, rules,” you said firmly.

“Rules?” Andre asked, pouting.

Your nieces giggled. “Squishy guts out first. No peaking at the other drawing. And only adults use the knives,” your youngest niece said simply.

You saw Andre make a face again at ‘squishy guts’ and grinned at him. This was going to be fun.

It took a little while for your nieces to scoop out the pumpkin guts and seeds, Andre more than happy to just pass the bowl back and forth, and after they’d washed their hands again, the drawing began. Your oldest niece had decided on having a cat face on hers this year, which looked pretty cute, but you had no idea what Andre and your youngest niece were drawing – all you could see was them whispering to each other every now and again, pointing at their pumpkin.

You didn’t think you could love this man any more than you already did, but seeing him so sweet with your niece just made your heart so happy and full. You honestly didn’t know what you’d done to deserve such a genuinely kind guy. He was so cute with your niece - what more could you ask for?

“I think we’re ready,” Andre announced.

You looked down at your oldest niece who nodded back to you. Ready it was then.

“Be careful with the pumpkin knife, Andre. It’s small but it’s sharp,” your youngest niece said suddenly, frown on her face.

Andre nodded solemnly. “I will do my very best to be careful,”

Well at least he was honest. You grinned at him, picking up your own knife, earning a grin and a wink back, his foot pressing against yours under the table. So sweet. You set to work with your pumpkin, carefully cutting out the pieces of the drawing that needed to go to achieve your niece’s desired design. You could see her smile growing wider as her drawing came to life – that was exactly why you did this every year, encouraging her creativity in such a fun way.

You were nearly finished with your carving with you heard Andre yelp, his knife clattering to the floor. “Blood!” your youngest niece whimpered.

“Did you seriously injure yourself carving a pumpkin?” you mused, carefully putting down your own knife.

Andre bit his bottom lip, nodding as he clutched his hand to his chest, shielding the injury from your niece. Oh damn. It wasn’t just his pride that was hurt then. You smiled down at your oldest niece to reassure her, before walking round the table to where Andre was.

“Close your eyes,” you told your youngest niece, waiting until she did so to hold out your hand to your boyfriend. He winced but uncurled his fist, a smear of blood masking a small shallow cut to the side of his finger. Okay, not as bad as you thought.

“It won’t need stitches, but it will need cleaning out and a bandaid,” you said softly, letting go of his hand.

“I didn’t think it was bad. It was just…”

“The shock?” you offered.

“Yeah,” he nodded, blushing a little. Bless him.

You beckoned him to stand up, pressing a little kiss to your niece’s head, murmuring that she could open her eyes now. “Stay here girls – I’ll just clean up Andre’s little cut and then we can finish, yeah?”

They both nodded, so you walked out to the bathroom, Andre trailing behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted as soon as the door closed.

What? “What are you sorry for?” you frowned.

“I ruined pumpkin carving by getting hurt,” he mumbled, seeming to shrink in on himself a little.

Oh no. That wouldn’t do.

“Absolutely not,” you said firmly, cupping his face with your hands, making him look at you, “my nieces are having so much fun and that hasn’t changed. We just need to clean you up and wash the knife, that’s all,”

“You’re not mad at me?” he asked quietly.

Your heart broke a little at the sadness on his pretty face, and you shook your head.

“I promise I’m not mad,” you insisted.

He bit his lip, unsure, so you leant up to kiss him, waiting until he’d relaxed enough to kiss you back to tug on that bottom lip with your teeth, making him whimper softly as you broke away.

“I mean it. It’s all going so well, so let’s clean up and get back out there,”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little breathless.

“Unless you’d rather stop the pumpkin carving?” you teased.

Andre shook his head quickly, making you laugh. “No! We have a competition to win!”

That’s the spirit.

[ladydarklord]

The Mighty Boosh on the business of being silly

The Times, November 15 2008

What began as a cult cocktail of daft poems, surreal characters and fantastical storylines has turned into the comedy juggernaut that is the Mighty Boosh. Janice Turner hangs out with creators Noel Fielding, Julian Barratt and the extended Boosh family to discuss the serious business of being silly

In the thin drizzle of a Monday night in Sheffield, a crowd of young women are waiting for the Mighty Boosh or, more precisely, one half of it. Big-boned Yorkshire lasses, jacketless and unshivering despite the autumn nip, they look ready to devour the object of their desire, the fey, androgynous Noel Fielding, if he puts a lamé boot outside the stage door. “Ooh, I do love a man in eyeliner,” sighs Natalie from Rotherham. She’ll be throwing sickies at work to see the Boosh show 13 times on their tour, plus attend the Boosh after-show parties and Boosh book signings. “My life is dead dull without them,” she says.

Nearby, mobiles primed, a pair of sixth-formers trade favourite Boosh lines. “What is your name?” asks Jessica. “I go by many names, sir,” Victoria replies portentously. A prison warden called Davena survives long days with high-security villains intoning, “It’s an outrage!” in the gravelly voice of Boosh character Tony Harrison, a being whose head is a testicle.

Apart from Fielding, what they all love most about the Boosh is that half their mates don’t get it. They see a bloke in a gorilla suit, a shaman called Naboo, silly rhymes about soup, stories involving shipwrecked men seducing coconuts “and they’re like, ‘This is bloody rubbish,’” says Jessica. “So you feel special because you do get it. You’re part of a club.”

Except the Mighty Boosh club is now more like a movement. What began as an Edinburgh fringe show starring Fielding and his partner Julian Barratt and later became an obscure BBC3 series has grown into a box-set flogging, mega-merchandising, 80-date touring Boosh inc. There was a Boosh festival last summer, now talk of a Boosh movie and Boosh in America. An impasse seems to have been reached: either the Boosh will expand globally or, like other mass comedy cults before it – Vic and Bob, Newman and Baddiel – slowly begin to deflate.

But for the moment, the fans still wait in the rain for heroes who’ve already left the building. I find the Boosh gang gathered in their hotel bar, high on post-gig adrenalin. Barratt, blokishly handsome with his ring-master moustache, if a tad paunchy these days, blends in with the crew. But Fielding is never truly “off”. All day he has been channelling A Clockwork Orange in thick black eyeliner (now smudged into panda rings) and a bowler hat, which he wears with polka-dot leggings, gold boots and a long, neon-green fur-collared PVC trenchcoat. He has, as those women outside put it, “something about him”: a carefully-wrought rock-god danger mixed with an amiable sweetness. Sexy yet approachable. Which is why, perched on a barstool, is a great slab of security called Danny.

“He stops people getting in our faces,” says Fielding. “He does massive stars like P. Diddy and Madonna and he says that considering how we’re viewed in the media as a cult phenomenon, we get much more attention in the street than, say, Girls Aloud. Danny says we’re on the same level as Russell Brand, who can’t walk from the door to the car without ten people speaking to him.”

This barometer of fame appears to fascinate and thrill Fielding. Although he complains he can’t eat dinner with his girlfriend (Dee Plume from the band Robots in Disguise) unmolested, he parties hard and publicly with paparazzi-magnets like Courtney Love and Amy Winehouse. He claims he’s tried wearing a baseball cap but fans still recognise him. Hearing this, Julian Barratt smiles wryly: “Noel is never going to dress down.”

It is clear on meeting them that their Boosh characters Vince Noir (Fielding), the narcissistic extrovert, and Howard Moon (Barratt), the serious, socially awkward jazz obsessive, are comic exaggerations of their own personalities. At the afternoon photo shoot, Fielding breaks free of the hair and make-up lady, sprays most of a can of Elnett on to his Bolan feather-cut and teases it to his satisfaction. Very Vince. “It is an art-life crossover,” says Barratt.

At 40, five years older than Fielding, Barratt exhibits the profound weariness of a man trying to balance a five-month national tour with new-fatherhood. After every Saturday night show he returns home to his 18-month-old twins, Arthur and Walter, and his partner Julia Davis (the creator-star of Nighty Night) and today he was up at 5am pushing a pram on Hampstead Heath before taking the train north to rejoin the Boosh. “I go back so the boys remember who I am. But it’s harder to leave them every time,” he says. “It is totally schizophrenic, totally opposite mental states: all this self-obsession and then them.”

About two nights a week on tour, Fielding doesn’t go to bed, parties through the night and performs the next evening having not slept at all. Barratt often retreats to his room to plough through box sets of The Wire. “It’s a bit gritty, but that is in itself an escape, because what we do is so fantastical.”

But mostly it is hard to resist the instant party provided by a large cast, crew and band. Indeed, drinking with them, it appears Fielding and Barratt are but the most famous members of a close collective of artists, musicians and old mates. Fielding’s brother Michael, who previously worked in a bowling alley, plays Naboo the shaman. “He is late every single day,” complains Noel. “He’s mad and useless, but I’m quite protective of him, quite parental.” Michael is always arguing with Bollo the gorilla, aka Fielding’s best mate, Dave Brown, a graphic artist relieved to remove his costume – “It’s so hot in there I fear I may never father children” – to design the Boosh book. One of the lighting crew worked as male nanny to Barratt’s twins and was in Michael’s class at school: “The first time I met you,” he says to Noel, “you gave me a dead arm.” “You were 9,” Fielding replies. “And you were messing with my stuff.”

This gang aren’t hangers-on but the wellspring of the Boosh’s originality and its strange, homespun, degree-show aesthetic: a character called Mr Susan is made out of chamois leathers, the Hitcher has a giant Polo Mint for an eye. When they need a tour poster they ignore the promoter’s suggestions and call in their old mate, Nige.

Fielding and Barratt met ten years ago at a comedy night in a North London pub. The former had just left Croydon Art College, the latter had dropped out of an American Studies degree at Reading to try stand-up, although he was so terrified at his first gig that he ran off stage and had to be dragged back by the compere.

While superficially different, their childhoods have a common theme: both had artistic, bohemian parents who exercised benign neglect. Fielding’s folks were only 17 when he was born: “They were just kids really. Hippies. Though more into Black Sabbath and Led Zep. There were lots of parties and crazy times. They loved dressing up. And there was a big gap between me and my brother – about nine years – so I was an only child for a long time, hanging out with them, lots of weird stuff going on.

“The great thing about my mum and dad is they let me do anything I wanted as a kid as long as I wasn’t misbehaving. I could eat and go to bed when I liked. I used to spend a lot of time drawing and painting and reading. In my own world, I guess.”

Growing up in Mitcham, South London, his father was a postmaster, while his mother now works for the Home Office. Work was merely the means to fund a good time. “When your dad is into David Bowie, how do you rebel against that? You can’t really. They come to all the gigs. They’ve been in America for the past three weeks. I’m ringing my mum really excited because we’re hanging out with Jim Sheridan, who directed In the Name of the Father, and the Edge from U2, and she said, ‘We’re hanging with Jack White,’ whom they met through a friend of mine. Trumped again!”

Barratt’s father was a Leeds art teacher, his mother an artist later turned businesswoman. “Dad was a bit more strict and academic. Mum would let me do anything I wanted, didn’t mind whether I went to school.” Through his father he became obsessed with Monty Python, went to jazz and Spike Milligan gigs, learnt about sex from his dad’s leatherbound volumes of Penthouse.

Barratt joined bands and assumed he would become a musician (he does all the Boosh’s musical arrangements); Fielding hoped to become an artist (he designed the Boosh book cover and throughout our interview sketches obsessively). Instead they threw their talents into comedy. Barratt: “It is a great means of getting your ideas over instantly.” Fielding: “Yes, it is quite punk in that way.”

Their 1998 Edinburgh Fringe show called The Mighty Boosh was named, obscurely, after a friend’s description of Michael Fielding’s huge childhood Afro: “A mighty bush.” While their double-act banter has an old-fashioned dynamic, redolent of Morecambe and Wise, the show threw in weird characters and a fantasy storyline in which they played a pair of zookeepers. They are very serious about their influences. “Magritte, Rousseau...” says Fielding. “I like Rousseau’s made-up worlds: his jungle has all the things you’d want in a jungle, even though he’d never been in one so it was an imaginary place.”

Eclectic, weird and, crucially, unprepared to compromise their aesthetic sensibilities, it was 2004 before, championed by Steve Coogan’s Baby Cow production company, their first series aired on BBC3. Through repeats and DVD sales the second series, in which the pair have left the zoo and are living above Naboo’s shop, found a bigger audience. Last year the first episode of series three had one million viewers. But perhaps the Boosh’s true breakthrough into mainstream came in June when George Bush visited Belfast and a child presented him with a plant labelled “The Mighty Bush”. Assuming it was a tribute to his greatness, the president proudly displayed it for the cameras, while the rest of Britain tittered.

A Boosh audience these days is quite a mix. In Sheffield the front row is rammed with teenage indie girls, heavy on the eyeliner, who fancy Fielding. But there are children, too: my own sons can recite whole “crimps” (the Boosh’s silly, very English version of rap) word for word. And there are older, respectable types who, when I interview them, all apologise for having such boring jobs. They’re accountants, IT workers, human resources officers and civil servants. But probe deeper and you find ten years ago they excelled at art A level or played in a band, and now puzzle how their lives turned out so square. For them, the Boosh embody their former dreams. And their DIY comedy, shambolic air, the slightly crap costumes, the melding of fantasy with the everyday, feels like something they could still knock up at home.

Indeed, many fans come to gigs in costume. At the Mighty Boosh Festival 15,000 people came dressed up to watch bands and absurdity in a Kent field. And in Sheffield I meet a father-and-son combo dressed as Howard Moon and Bob Fossil – general manager of the zoo – plus a gang of thirty-something parents elaborately attired as Crack Fox, Spirit of Jazz, a granny called Nanageddon, and Amy Housemouse. “I love the Boosh because it’s total escapism,” says Laura Hargreaves, an employment manager dressed as an Electro Fairy. “It’s not all perfect and people these days worry too much that things aren’t perfect. It’s just pure fun.”

But how to retain that appealingly amateur art-school quality now that the Boosh is a mega comedy brand? Noel Fielding is adamant that they haven’t grown cynical, that The Mighty Book of Boosh was a long-term project, not a money-spinner chucked out for Christmas: “There is a lot of heart in what we do,” he says. Barratt adds: “It’s been hard this year to do everything we’ve wanted, to a standard we’re proud of... Which is why we’re worn to shreds.”

Comedy is most powerful in intimate spaces, but the Boosh show, with its huge set, requires major venues. “We’ve lost money every day on the tour,” says Fielding. “The crew and the props and what it costs to take them on the road – it’s ridiculous. Small gigs would lose millions of pounds.”

The live show is a kind of Mighty Boosh panto, with old favourites – Bob Fossil, Bollo, Tony Harrison, etc – coming on to cheers of recognition. But it lacks the escapism to the perfectly conceived world of the TV show. They have told the BBC they don’t want a fourth series: they want a movie. They would also, as with Little Britain USA, like a crack at the States, where they run on BBC America. Clearly the Boosh needs to keep evolving or it will die.

Already other artists are telling Fielding and Barratt to make their money now: “They say this is our time, which is quite frightening.” I recall Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, who dominated the Nineties with Big Night Out and Shooting Stars. “Yes, they were massive,” says Fielding. “A number one record...” And now Reeves presents Brainiac. “If you have longer-term goals, it’s not scary,” says Barratt. “To me, I’m heading somewhere else – to direct, make films, write stuff – and at the moment it’s all gone mental. I’m sort of enjoying this as an outsider. It was Noel who had this desire to reach more people.”

Indeed, the old cliché that comedy is the new rock’n’roll is closest to being realised in Noel Fielding. Watching him perform the thrash metal numbers in the Boosh live show, he is half ironic comic performer, half frustrated rock god. His heroes weren’t comics but androgynous musicians: Jagger, Bowie, Syd Barrett. (Although he liked Peter Cook’s style and looks.)

“I like clothes and make-up, I like the transformation,” he says. Does it puzzle him that women find this so sexually attractive? “I was reading a book the other day about the New York Dolls and David Johansen was saying that none of them were gay or even bisexual, and that when they started dressing in stilettos and leather pants, women got it straight away with no explanation. But a lot of men had problems. It’s one of those strange things. A man will go, ‘You f***ing queer.’ And you just think, ‘Well, your girlfriend fancies me.’”

The Boosh stopped signing autographs outside stage doors when it started taking two hours a night. At recent book signings up to 1,500 people have shown up, some sleeping overnight in the queue. And on this tour, the Boosh took control of the after-show parties, once run as money-spinners by the promoters, and now show up in person to do DJ slots. I ask if they like to meet their fans, and they laugh nervously.

Fielding: “We have to be behind a fence.”

Barratt: “They try to rip your clothes off your body.”

Fielding: “The other day my girlfriend gave me this ring. And, doing the rock numbers at the end, I held out my hands and the crowd just ripped it off.”

Barratt: “I see it as a thing which is going to go away. A moment when people are really excited about you. And it can’t last.”

He recalls a man in York grabbing him for a photo, saying, “I’d love to be you, it must be so amazing.” And Barratt says he thought, “Yes, it is. But all the while I was trying to duck into this doorway to avoid the next person.” He’s trying to enjoy the Boosh’s moment, knows it will pass, but all the same?

In the hotel bar, a young woman fan has dodged past Danny and comes brazenly over to Fielding. Head cocked attentively like a glossy bird, he chats, signs various items, submits to photos, speaks to her mate on her phone. The rest of the Boosh crew eye her steelily. They know how it will end. “You have five minutes then you go,” hisses one. “I feel really stupid now,” says the girl. It is hard not to squirm at the awful obeisance of fandom. But still she milks the encounter, demands Fielding come outside to meet her friend. When he demurs she is outraged, and Danny intercedes. Fielding returns to his seat slightly unsettled. “What more does she want?” he mutters, reaching for his wine glass. “A skin sample?”

[bokutoisbestowl]

Fem!S/O; Meetings, Feelings and Futures: Kenma, Aone and Kyoutani

Thank you so much @kara-grayson04 for requesting!! 💞💞 I hope you enjoy it and that its good enough!!

Also thank you for requesting for Aone that man makes me S O F T 🥺🥺🥺

So I’m going to be introducing a master taglist, but it'll be limited to about 40-50 people, so please don’t hesitate to ask!! SMAU’s will have their own separate, unlimited taglist (unless Tumblr has some limitation I don’t know about) that you'd have to ask to be added to separately. 

The headcanons may be a bit shorter than usual just because of it being multiple characters but I hope you guess still enjoy it! Feedback is always welcome!

As always, requests are: O P E N

Kenma

You two met during high school, through Kuroo of course. see, rooster boy thought that having another game obsessed friend would make Kenma come out of his shell a little bit

little did he know that it wouldn’t change a thing apart from the fact that he now had two nerds to look after

at first, Kenma didn't really think much of it, you were just another person who befriended Kuroo and would most likely see around quite a lot.

when he saw you, he would be polite and node or mumble his greetings but that was about it at first. You were similar in a way and honestly Kuroo almost regretted it. 

almost

Kenma didn't know when it happened, all he knew was that one day he just saw you and blushed like a mad man after realising just how beautiful you were. He didn’t know why you, a simple acquaintance (at least) suddenly became the only thought in his mind

he loved how patient you were with him, even when he was being bluntly analytical of everything, you would simply smile whereas someone else would have complained or just left

he remembers speaking to you about his distaste for hot and cold weather, saying there was not in between. one was too hot, the other too cold and you just nodded along 

“That's why I prefer spring and autumn, they're the transitioning seasons so the weather can be more balanced.”

Kenma is just shook that you didn’t point out the obvious that well, one is summer and the other is winter.

you two just starting talking a lot more and Kenma starting falling deeper and deeper and so you did you

although you managed to keep it hidden a bit better but not by much

you two would always look over each others shoulders when playing games together, trying to help each other out and occasionally will discuss games seriously; their design, animation, mechanics basically a range of things

you two became friends quickly after actually talking to each other and his feelings only really became clear when you were absent from school one day

he started texting you straight away, hearing from Kuroo that you were ill and home because your parents still had to work. Surprisingly, he’d managed to convince Kuroo to let him check up on you after practice since your parents worked late

both were shocked seeing you covered in blankets with a red nose, teared up eyes (from all the sneezing) and an exhausted aura opening the door, Kuroo quickly getting Kenma to take you to your room whilst he looked for food to give you

Kenma made sure you were covered with a blanket, grabbing a cold towel to place on your forehead. But rather than sit in silence, he because quietly talking about the newest game, smiling when you became discussing it as well

honestly this boy was falling in deep

collabs are a must when you two create your youtube channels in University, whether it was gaming, challenges or vlogs, around half of yours and his videos always include the other person

your fans are starting to ship you to together, Kuroo being their leader

little did they know you two had been dating since your third year, Kenma having awkwardly gotten his sims character to ask your sims character out on a date and then asking

“So... should we go out for real or?”

you agreed instantly of course

Uni had gone passed easily and your relationship remained strong throughout the years, going on dates every Thursday (both in real life and on any game you could manage)

when you weren't going out on dates, you two were lounging in your shared room or sitting in the living room of the house playing games or watching movies

Life got better after he proposed

he did it after graduation in the celebratory dinner, with help from Kuroo and some of you University friends

you could tell he was slightly embarrassed but luckily it was a private dinner in your residence so he wasn't that bothered. Of course he wanted it to be private but he also lowkey wants to show your relationship off like

“Look at this beautiful woman I am asking to marry me. Like if she says yes i’ll be shook.”

and he was.

Your daughter came along soon after the wedding which was much more simple than anyone expected. You two got married in the back garden of your childhood friends in front of close family and friends.

Pregancy was difficult, but it did give you time to actually play some games rather than having to work all the time plus your YouTube Channel became a family channel

Kenma was forever supportive, reading up on what to expect and how he can help. He never really asserted himself as the type of partner to tell you not to do something, he knew you understood your limitations and so left you to it

but he was always by your side, no matter what

And when Kanna was born, you both fell in love all over again. She was the perfect mixture of you both, with Kenma’s shy, introvert personality and your socialable, patient personality 

honestly Kenma was glad of it, knowing that being a major introvert can sometimes be harmful, but he knew his daughter would be fine.

if not then BET he will do everything he can to make sure any problem gets solved quickly

his favourite thing though? 

Coming home from work to find his two girls asleep on the sofa

Kanna cuddled up ontop of her mother and you holding your daughter securely in your arms, the two of you breathing softly

calm and serene

it was that he though of when he came up to you one night, wrapping his arm around your waist gently and kissing your shoulder

“...Lets have another.”

Aone

You were on the train when he first saw you properly. Of course he’d seen you around school but didn't really think much of it since his school mates never really spoke to him anyway

something about him being too intimidating to approach (rude)

BUT on the day when the two of you met, the train was way too crowded and you were honestly suffering. getting crushed between bodies or walls daily was getting exhausting and you couldn;t take much more

thankfully you spotted an empty seat and Aone. It wasn;t that you were hesitant because of him, no, you just didn’t want to disturb him if it happened to be that he liked to be alone. but it wouldn;t hurt to ask, right?

so carefully you walked across the train and smiled at him politely, nodding towards the seat next to him

“hello Aone, would you mind if I sat next to you?”

HOLY SHIT HE WAS SOFT IMMEDIATELY

this baby nodded and stiffened as you sat down, he couldn’t believe you’d actually done it and that you seemed so calm and relaxed. did he not scare you??

the two of you sat in silence but that was fine with Aone because someone was sitting next to him

both of you were surprised when you got off at the same stop, you smiling shyly up at him as he let you off first. you were surprised once again to find him walking the same way as you

you walked next to him silently, enjoying his company until it was time to head your separately ways

“Well, thank you for letting me side beside you Aone, I really appreciate it... do you... think I could sit next to you again.. tomorrow?”

he quickly nodded, blush rising from his next to the tips of his ears

you two soon fell into a pattern, whenever you would see each other you would smile and wave, him returning the kind gesture - even at school time which made a lot of people curious and weary 

eventually you began waiting for him after practice, quietly waiting outside the gym and smiling when he would come out. he would always nod, giving you a look that you recognised as him saying “please wait a few more minutes” as he went up to get changed

will forever be surprised to see you still standing outside waiting for him

it would always be the same, quiet routine with Aone allowing you on the train first so you could sit first or get the last seat and he would simply stand in front of you, watching over you like a guardian of some sort

on occasions where the train was fully packed, he would gently guide you to a rail - oddly thankful for his intimidating nature since it would lead to people making room for you

once it starts to get darker, Aone refuses to let you walk home alone and goes out of his way just to make sure you get home safely. 

you were grateful for it though, simply because of the company

your parents met him once and they loved him. it was like they could also see his kind nature, smiling at him and always thanking him for getting their daughter home safely

he would always nod and bow politely

honestly he adores you because goddamn it finally someone isn't scared of him

goes out of his way to ensure your safety, happiness and comfort. listens to your every word. sometimes he’ll respond to you and sometimes he speaks with his eyes but either way he (and you) are content in each others presence 

your relationship moved quickly, dating after only a few months of properly knowing each other but neither of you would have it either way

you supported him in his volleyball career as much as you could, coming to his games or cheering him on when you couldn't make it. If playing is what he wanted to do alongside work then you were happy as long as he was

will bring you flowers and replaces those flowers once they die

all he asks is for kisses 

despite the quick beginning, it took four years for you to get married and another two for you to have your children. 

the wedding was beautiful, all your friends and family there, even his old high school friends (including the third years from back in his second year)

everyone was happy that this guy finally found love

the pregnancy was unplanned, and you were both shocked.

you’d missed your period and decided to take a test, Aone came home to you on the sofa, holding some baby shoes that you had gotten during the day to surprise him with

he was s h o o k

imagine both your surprise when you found out you were having twins

when you went into labour, Aone was terrified that his children would be scared of him, but his thoughts were quickly shoved aside when he heard his son cry out. and then his daughter

his heart was beating so fast, man was thankful they were in a hospital.

your son, Reo, calmed in your arms leaving your daughter, Aoi, to her father.

she cooed instantly and was labelled daddy’s girl

straight away

Reo was a lot like Aone in that he was oddly silent, even for a baby, you guessed he must have picked up on it and just went with it

Aoi was more like you, the talker of the pair and smiles all around

it was one day when he was watching the three of you play that he chuckled to himself, smiling happily.

Once upon a time his concern was that no one would sit next to him on the train

now it was that one day his daughter would get a boyfriend

god bless that boy

“Aoi, boys who are friends are okay. Boyfriends are banned.”

“Daddy... what’s a boyfriend?”

Kyoutani

Okay so ya’ll met under bad circumstances. and by that I mean he shoved passed you and knocked you on your ass, not even sparing a glance to you as you walked passed.

a bunch of the male students were immediately shouting at him for being rude to a girl, female students coming to help you up whilst the culprit just sulked off somewhere

you were a first year, friends to Kindaichi and Kunimi and also lowkey manager of the team

you had heard that Iwaizumi was having to take up some of the role and felt bad, since you were there watching your boys anyway you thought might as well so you spoke to him and Oikawa about applying for the position

You were SHOCKED to find him there, like how did a guy that unsociable get into a club??

you soon found out about the teams troubles with him and realised that it’s just his personality

but he was good at the game, despite stealing a few of Kindaichi’s sets and just being plain rude. But you loved how he was with Oikawa, laughing quietly to yourself as the older boy pouted when he was being ignored

Kyoutani thought nothing of you at first, you were just some girl he’d bumped into but then he saw you in club and was annoyed

did you follow him here to scold him cause it wouldn’t work

but then he saw how kind and attentive you actually were and boy was soon blushing (but only slightly)

it pissed him off whenever you went to Iwaizumi or Oikawa because obviously he saw Iwaizumi as the big dog and Oikawa was.... Oikawa so gross 

was also surprised when you came over to give him a towel, because he thought he’d scared you off with his rudeness

blinks before nodding and wiping he face, feeling your presence move before swiftly catching your wrist

“Sorry... ‘bout before”

you just smiled and nodded at him, when he let you go (he was receiving looks off of Iwaizumi otherwise he could have stayed like that staring into your eyes for the rest of practice) you went back to your friends, laughing at Kindaichi as he demanded for information

Oddly enough he became a lot calmer when you were around because you were call him out for his mistakes

“That wasn’t your set Kyoutani, you need to wait otherwise your spikes won’t be as strong as they usually are and might get blocked easily.”

honestly you didn’t know if your words were actually helping but he seemed to take them in a wait for Oikawa to actually set to him

it didn’t work all the time however, in actual matches he got so into it that he just forgets and acts out

Oikawa and Iwaizumi sometimes look to you to calm him down, again sometimes it works and sometimes all you can do is shrug and say you tried

no one is sure of when you two started hanging out or dating but it just kinda happened

like one day you just kinda went “yeah he’s my boyfriend” and visa versa

he would walk you home on the grounds of Iwaizumi telling him to

you walked home alone because Kindaichi and Kunimi didn't live near you and Iwaizumi just turned to mad dog like “Walk her home. We need to make sure our manager gets home safely.”

everyone thought he’d put up a fight but he just turned, grabbed your hand and starting walking.

will continue to hold your hand and actually intertwine your fingers if he sees other boys walking past you two

kinda like a claim? but a sweet one like

“back off she’s mine”

you were sad when, a year later, he graduated but he always came back to walk you home at the end of day like routine

like I said before, no one was sure when you two started dating they just knew he was soft for you but still growly and glaring

you didn't mind though because he treated you gently

you got pregnant after you left high school and starting working. well, a few years into your job you got pregnant.

totally unplanned and definitely outside of marriage

your mothers were like “excuse me. what”

he proposed a few days later

I say proposed

you two were led in bed and he just turned around and said “you wanna get married or what?”

you legit just nodded all chill like and said “sure why not”

instant grin and kisses because he loves the playfulness

you ended up having a son who was exactly like his father and finally

after all these years

Kyoutani got a taste of his own medicine

“He’s such a fucking little shit.”

“He’s your son smh.”

Itsuki was born with a scowl on his face, Kyoutani was sure of it. he swears to whatever god he can that he saw it with his own eyes

but there are some moments where he remembers just how much he loves his son

but in all seriousness, seeing his son take after him so much fills him with joy and he’s so happy that they have that little mad dog

any future children (daughters) will be well protected

“Mommy... I want a baby brother.”

Kyoutani just sits there grinning

“You heard the rascal.”

●●●●

Master Taglist: Ask to be added whilst you can!!

@reinyrei

[little-diable]

Middle of nowhere - Jasper Hale (smut)

Request by anon: (Smut)Could you write and imagine where jasper and the reader are stuck in the middle of nowhere after their car breaking down and not knowing where they were so they spend their time waiting for anyone with their favorite past time😉

Hope this is what you had in mind, enjoy lovely. xxx

The soft motion of the car always managed to lull (y/n) in, it would take about five to ten minutes for her to fall asleep, of course only if Jaspers was driving. She felt safe in Jaspers presence, calm and carefree, ideal for a little slumber. 

It turned into somewhat of a routine, he’d place his right hand on her thigh, she’d plug her phone in and play one of her favorite songs, would close her eyes and fall asleep. Jasper adored her, knowing that she could just let go and stop herself from worrying, in his presence, brought a smile onto his lips. 

It had been one of those days, Jasper and (y/n) were on their way to a little cabin in the woods, a few hours away from Forks, they were desperate for some one-on-one time. The human girl was a big part of the Clan, Esme and Carlisle treated her like one of their owns, the siblings accepted her with open arms, even Rosalie, Jasper and her had been dating for a few months by now. 

Noak Hellsings voice hallowed through the car, Jaspers fingers circled soft motions onto her thigh, (y/n)s eyes were focused on the road ahead, the sun was just about to go down, drenching the autumn afternoon sky in a deep orange color. 

(Y/n) wasn’t quite sure why, but she felt wide-awake, she somehow couldn’t fall asleep, “you’re still awake, darlin’?”, a chuckle rumbled through Jasper as his eyes momentarily found her (y/e/c) ones. 

Trees surrounded them, it was dark by now, only a few stars were twinkling on the night sky, a light breeze was blowing through the forest, it seemed as if the trees were telling their own stories. 

A silent “fuck” escaped Jaspers lips, the car began to make a few weird noises, slowing down and finally coming to a halt in the middle of the road. “What’s going on?”, panic clear in (y/n)s voice as she turned her head towards Jasper, she knew that she’d be safe with him, but still, she felt uneasy, (y/n) had never been a big fan of the dark. 

“Seems as if our car just broke down. I need to make a few calls, do you have any signal?”, his eyes were trained on his phone screen, lighting up his pale face, eyebrows furrowed together. (Y/n) checked her phone, “no signal”, they were in the middle of nowhere, a groan left her lips, “no, my phone’s about to die”.

“I think there should be a clearing a few miles down in that direction.”, Jasper bit down on his lower lip, a sigh left (y/n)s lips as she took a hold of his hand, “you’ve got no clue about our whereabouts, right?”, a small chuckle left her lips. 

The small “no” that left his lips turned her chuckle into a full laugh, of course, something like this would happen to the both of them. “I think we should just wait till somebody drives pasts us, maybe they could help us.”, (y/n) closed her eyes and leaned backwards in her seat. 

“I mean-”, his hand was slowly moving upwards on her thigh, “-I’ve got some ideas, about how we could spend our time, while we wait.”, (y/n) struggled to keep the smirk from spreading.  

(Y/n) leaned towards him, body hanging over the middle console, hands teasing his growing member through the fabric of his jeans, his deep groans filled the car, Jasper always liked to be vocal during their intimate one-on-one time. 

He was fisting her (y/h/c) hair, her delicate fingers were working on his fly, taking a hold of his length, pumping him a few times, before teasing his tip with her tongue. The grip on her hair would get tighter by the second, impatient like he was, he’d force her down a little too fast, watching how she’d gag on his impressive size. 

Grunts were leaving his lips as (y/n) bopped her head up and down on him, tasting him, trying to fit as much as she could into her mouth. “I’ll cum, if you don’t stop now, darlin’.”, voice raspy, eyes closed, pale fingers still tightly fisting (y/n)s hair, she kept on hallowing her cheeks, kept on teasing his veins. 

As soon as he relieved himself into her mouth, she pulled him off with a sticky pop, cleaning her mouth with the back of her hand, a smirk on her lips as she took in his glistering features.  

“Backseat, now.”, his voice was stern, Jasper watched her crawl onto the backseat, his eyes were focused on her exposed ass, he could feel his member already throbbing, once again, ready to dive into her warm core. 

(Y/n) was thankful for her choice of clothing, the plaid skirt was shuffled upwards onto her abdomen, Jasper didn’t waist any time, he pulled her panties down her legs, storing them away in the back pocket of his trousers. 

He began to spread her wet folds, rubbing his lips against them, a moan left his lips as he tasted her arousal, sending shivers up her spine. (Y/n) legs were slung over his shoulders, locking his head between her thighs, fingers buried in his golden locks, tugging on the roots.  

“Oh Jas’.”, her back was arched as he began to toy around with her clit, he slid two fingers into her core, curling them upwards, he knew her body like the back of his hand. It didn’t take him long to push her over the edge for the first time that night, (y/n)s moans were hallowing through the car as her orgasm washed upon her, he dipped his fingers into her mouth, letting her taste her own arousal.   

Jasper moved himself upwards, one hand was tightly gripping the car door, he was sliding right into her core, filling her to the brim, she could feel his every vein, (y/n) was stretching around his length, eyes closed at the sensation. 

She was tugging on his shoulders, pulling him flush against her front, his cock was throbbing inside of her, Jasper kept on rolling his hips against hers, he’s too good, knows exactly what he is doing, fucking her just the right way. 

He kissed her hard, almost bruising her lips with the amount of force he put into the kiss, (y/n) back was moving against the fabric of the backseat, she knew that she’d have to deal with a few burning marks later on, but it was totally worth it, the way his length was perfectly fitting inside of her, she was gasping into his mouth. 

“Fuck darlin’, you feel too good around me.”, his eyes were closed, knuckles white as he kept on tightly gripping the door, he rammed into her hard, pushing her up on the seat, her core felt hot around him, a burning sensation was building up in her belly, she was close, her head was tilted backwards, eyes finding the round form of the moon that was shining down onto the forest.   

“Don’t you stop, please, Jas’, oh god.”, she was a blabbering mess by now, couldn’t think straight any longer, he was dragging out one moan after another, growling against her sticky skin. Jasper kept on grinding against her, both of them could feel their own orgasm nearing, chasing their release, he kept on praising her, telling her how much he loved her, ready to push her over the edge. 

“Oh god.”, screams left her mouth as she kept on tossing around underneath him, she was trembling as he kept on riding out her orgasm, clenching around his length, drawing him closer and closer. He lets himself spill into her, groans vibrating against her neck, inhaling her smell, taking a few seconds to calm down, before pulling out of her sensitive warmth.  

Jasper pressed a kiss onto her swollen lips, he helped her sit up, pushed her skirt down, before crawling back to the front seat. “I’m not too mad about the car breaking down actually.”, a yawn interrupted her chuckles as Jasper kissed her forehead. 

[phonecallwithsatan]

Rain

a.n.: ugh sorry for my leave of absense. was depressed. something new... now writing for Spencer, i hope yall like it! if youre here, hey, if youre not, welcome back! <3 gender neutral fluff, maybe at 1.5k 💛

y/n surprises Spencer with his favorite book amidst admiring his hair while sitting in the car with rain pouring down in D.C.

✩

Being the Representative for D.C.’s at Large Congressional District was your dream job, and is your dream job. It does however leave for no free time, but today was different.

You were able to take off surprisingly earlier than usual, which led to a rare night off. Luckily your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, also had a free night from the B.A.U., something that was also rare for his line of work. You were planning to meet him at his apartment at 6. 

The leaves on the sidewalk had turned into mush piles of orange and red as your boots walked through piles of water and leaf-mush. You were walking to your all-time favorite book store in D.C., the one Spencer had taken you to countless times.

You looked up and saw that the already darkened sky from the Autumn weather had clouds rolling in, leading to more rain. Luckily you were already at the book store, stepping in and brushing your boots off on the doormat at the entrance of the store.

“Hi, Grace!” Your favorite sales clerk was working today.

Grace looked up from her book and smiled at you. “Hey, y/n. We got some new shipments, do you want to look through them? I haven’t put anything new out yet.”

“After I look around if you’re not busy? I’m kind of in a rush,” you looked down at your watch and saw that it was 5:30. You may not make it for your date at Spencer’s apartment. 

Grace nodded and you carried on into the depths of the bookstore, cascading your eyes on the different colors of the book spines, some cracked, some not, and some nearly falling off. 

You plucked Fahrenheit 451 off the wall and recognized the cover to be from the 70s, smiling at yourself because of the glorious find. You’d always known this bookstore had amazing books, but not something like this. This was your favorite book, and you probably owned copies, but not this one.

Ray Bradbury was displayed at the top, followed by the title, finishing off with a woman’s face at the bottom, lit up in between a blaze of fire coming from two books. Spencer would freak out if he saw this, you thought to yourself.

You had decided to look for his favorite book too. 

Still under B in the book store, you searched through more of Ray Bradbury’s work until you found your boyfriend’s favorite- The Illustrated Man. 

You found two copies. One which was the other that Spencer kept around his house all the time, and one that had a particular cover you hadn’t seen before. Pushing the other book back into its spot, you tucked Fahrenheit 451 under your arm and flipped to the first few pages. You gasped at the publishing date. 1951. An original.

Spencer would be running circles if he was next to you. You looked down at your watch when the thought of Spencer came to your mind. 5:51, read the clock. You took the book and walked up to Grace who asked you for the new shipment once again.

“Not today, Grace,” you said as you placed both books on the counter. You looked outside as Grace was ringing the books up and explaining the significance. Rain. Hard, pouring rain, ruined your chances to get to his apartment at a reasonable time and pace. You were planning to take the Metro to his apartment but those plans were diminished when you saw the bolt of thunder paint the sky a slight white for a moment.

“$9.53 for today, y/n.” Grace said. She must have not known about the covers, even though she had just explained the history. 

You gave her your card and she fiddled with the new system. You took this time to call your boyfriend. He never said no to picking you up.

The phone rang once when he picked up.

“Hey, y/n. Where are you?” He asked not-so-patiently. 

“Spencer, can you come pick me up? I’m sorry but it’s raining, like, really hard over here. I’m still in the city.”

Your man stuttered and you heard him run to get his keys.

“Yeah, where are you? I’ll come.” The keys jangled in the background.

“I’m at Second Story,” you said. You knew he would be mad.

“Without me?” You heard the door of his apartment open.

“I’m sorry, Spence, I was in the area.” 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up and you went back to Grace. She was wrapping up the books and the machine was screaming for you to take your card out of the chip reader. 

You took it out and placed it in your wallet. You loved this place mostly because of the atmosphere, first off. The second was because of the memories you had with Spencer.

Grace carefully wrapped the edges of your book with the brown wrapping paper that you knew and love. It was her special touch.

“Hey, while you’re wrapping those, can I look through the boxes?” She looked up and nodded. You turned and knelt down to open the first box. You picked up a few biographies, some cookbooks, and a Sci-Fi novel with an interesting cover. Just as you were about to pick up the book, your phone started to buzz in your pocket. Spencer. 

You got up and saw a text from Spencer. Here.

You thanked Grace and grabbed the books from her hands. “y/n, I marked 451’s wrapping on the side so you don’t mix them up.” You thanked her once again.

 Pushing the door of the bookstore open, you scanned for Spencer’s blue Volvo. You finally saw it parked with its signature circle headlights shining bright way at the end of your street. You began to walk through the hard and cold rain and quickly tucked the two books in your coat so they would not get ruined. 

You were still far from the car but you saw Spencer get out and walk to you. 

“Spencer!” You called out, confused as to why he was getting himself all wet. 

You were getting closer to the car but further from dry clothes. Spencer smiled at you and opened the car door, making you grin at the gesture. You sped up and cupped your hand to his face mid-stride before getting in the car. He closed the door after you placed your right foot in the cars interior.

He jumped around to get to the driver’s side and you waited for his expression for when you gave him the book.

Spencer got in and closed the door before smiling at you. He leaned over and kissed you, not too eager but also not too light, you took one hand and cupped his face once more before pulling away. He didn’t move from his position and placed a hand on your leg.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up, I got you something actually.” You took the books out of your coat’s protection after he said, “of course.”

You made sure his book did not have the marking on it before giving it to him. Spencer took his hand off your leg and took the book in his hands before shedding the wrapping off. 

He looked up at you, then down at the book, just to look up once again.

“y/n, you found this in Second Story? I can’t- thank you, y/n/n,” he cut himself off before flipping through the pages and back to the beginning to look at the publishing date of his favorite book.

He kissed your forehead and you felt his hair drip on your face and you made a face and you looked up at his half wet and half dry hair. His expression changed when he saw yours. He quickly forgot though and he went back to analyzing the book you picked up for him.

Rolling your eyes, you lifted your hand and ran it through his hair, previously slicked back which was now hanging down in sections. You pushed it back and past his ear, going back to tuck it in so it wouldn’t pop out again. You took this chance to go ahead and go back up and comb your fingers through his damp hair and watch it separate and slick back because of the water.

Raindrops hit the glass infront of you while the wipers worked hard.

Spencer’s hair was one of the first things you had noticed about him when you had started dating. He liked to style it in different ways but he always played with one piece that stayed behind his ear. That piece would always pop up while he was working, reading, writing, you name it. Even now, it had managed to escape.

You took this particular piece and began to lightly twirl it around in your fingers. You leaned in a bit and leaned your arm a bit on his body to get a better look at the book in his lap. He analyzed the pages and you were very pleased with the outcome. You spun around the slightly curled piece and ran your hands once again through the side of his head, tucking the piece in behind Spencer’s ear where it usually stayed. You smoothed it down by using the backs of your fingers. Your thumb grazed his cheekbone as you once more moved it up to secure the piece in.

He was flipping through the pages and began to talk about the novel he had in his hands. You loved listening to him ramble.

Your hand moved to the back of his head and you ran your hand up the direction of growth, feeling the wet pieces mix with the dry ones. He explained the unrevised wording in this and that page, and you watched his dimples appear and disappear with every pronunciation of “a” and “s” that came in a word. 

You scratched lightly at the back of his head before moving onto the nape of his neck. There, you had noticed that he had gotten a haircut so there were no stray hairs. You massage lightly and then noticed him tilt his head towards you. This was his favorite. 

“I mean, look at the font. This is nothing like the ones I’ve seen before.” He continued on and you noticed that his hair dried quickly. You left his neck and moved back up to the front where a good amount of hair was dry and frizzy. 

You smoothed it out once again and heard him hum lightly. His hair was soft and had noticeable layering because of the haircut. Your fingers glid through his brown locks and you slid it back this time, taking some of the hair behind his ear with it. 

Instinctively, he took a hand to tuck it back but he met yours instead.

He looked up and took your hand from his head into his, leaving the book in his lap.

“Thank you, y/n. Truly, I just, can’t even process that this is in my hand.” He continued to talk to you about the first edition novel and your poor boy couldn’t finish his sentence as the loud thunder startled him. You laughed and watched the sky light up in various places in front of you.

“Come on, sweet boy. Let’s go home.”

“Home?” He asked.

You let home slip out in your sentence even though you probably spent a good amount of your time there. You probably slept there four times a week.

“Your apartment.” You corrected yourself. You looked away, mentally kicking yourself that you let home slip in.

“So, home,” Spencer said, looking away and taking his hand out of yours to hold onto the shift knob.

You looked back and as he switched to drive. He took your hand back to his as he turned the wheel to the left to exit his parallel parking spot. He looked over and smiled. 

“Yeah,” you responded. You took your hand out of his quickly to brush that annoying piece back behind his ear and took his hand in yours once again. “Home,” you said.

[jonahlovescoffee]

Mistletoe | J.M.

a/n: i suck at writing. the only thing im good at is procrastinating my procrastination so send help pls :/ this fic was supposed to be up before Christmas but i just finished writing it today and i’m not even proud of it :’) anyways, happy reading and be sure to tell me what you think in the end <3

summary: all you wanted to do was kiss your boyfriend under the mistletoe, but things didn’t work out as planned.

warning: secondhand embarrassment, fluff & some mildly suggestive themes in the end bc i couldn’t help it lmao

word count: 2407

“And that’s what I call a perfect plan,” Emily threw her arms up in the air excitedly, thankfully not getting the attention of anyone else in the cafe. She had just finished explaining the details of her stupid plan to make your boyfriend finally kiss you that was admittedly not so stupid after you ran through the whole thing once again in your head. What’s the worst possible outcome of her plan? Him hating you forevermore? You highly doubt that’d happen so maybe this plan was actually worth a try after all.

“Do you think this is a good idea though, I mean I don’t wanna come off as too needy or anything...” you rambled on nervously, your hands fidgeting with the hem of the beige sweater you were wearing.

“You always overthink everything,” Emily landed a firm reassuring pat on your shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’ll be completely fine. Couples kiss each other all the time! And it’s about time for that dip to do the same to you too.”

You and Jonah had been dating for quite a while now — nearly a month and a half to be exact — but you both had never kissed. His previous girlfriend had left him heavily scarred and this was your first romantic relationship with anyone, meaning that you were too inexperienced in this relationship department to know how it works, so of course both of you had agreed to take it slow. Don’t get you wrong, he did shower you with affection all the time through other methods, mainly through intimate gestures but he didn’t make a move to take it any further and you being the useless coward you were, you didn’t even dare to initiate it either even though you’d gotten comfortable enough with Jonah to the point where you do want to kiss him. Very badly.

Now, you knew that each and every relationship was different and there was nothing wrong with not choosing to express one’s love through something as absurd as kisses, but after Daniel accidentally let the fact that Jonah actually kissed his ex on their first date slip during one of your conversations with him, you started to wonder whether you were the problem. Were you not pretty enough? Not capable enough?

Your worsened insecurities didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend, which was exactly why she dragged you out to a cafe that late autumn day to offer you her so-called ‘foolproof’ plan that couldn’t go wrong.

So when winter rolled around and it was time to put up Christmas decorations around your house, maybe it was because of the indescribable Christmas magic in the air, or maybe it was because of the delightful festive cheer, you eventually decided to follow her advice and hung a mistletoe above the door. Now all there’s left was for you to greet him at the door, inconspicuously gaze at the mistletoe above you, say something along the lines of, “Wow, I wonder how that mistletoe got there!”, and then hope he’d get the hint and was ready for a cute Christmas kiss — If he did go along with the plan, that is.

Which explained why here you were right now leaning against a wall of your living room, shifting your weight from one foot to another repeatedly while biting your nails as you stare intensely at the clock, trying your best to soothe the nerves in your stomach. You had just invited him over for dinner like usual and was now waiting for his arrival anxiously like something big was about to happen although you knew very well that a kiss was hardly considered that big of a deal.

The loud chime of the doorbell that sounded moments later disrupted your train of thought, startling you a little. You hurriedly smoothed your attire and took a deep breath to calm yourself down before making your way to answer the door. You flung open the front door with a cheeky smile plastered on your face.

“Hey, ba....Corbyn?! What are you doing here?” Your voice raised a pitch in the end of your sentence from how shocked you were when you were greeted with the sight of Corbyn standing on your doorstep instead of your boyfriend whom you were expecting, your eyes widening in disbelief so much that you swore they almost popped out of your sockets.

“Just here to pass your present before I return to my hometown tomorrow for Christmas,” he answered, passing you the rectangular shaped present that was beautifully wrapped with vibrant Christmas-themed wrapping paper. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve thanked him profusely and proceed with guessing excitedly about what he might’ve gotten you (because he is an amazing gift-giver) but this time was different. You had a mistletoe dangling from the ceiling above your head and your friend was not supposed to be here now. Out of all the times he could’ve passed you your present, he had chosen today to do it. Great.

“But isn’t that Jonah’s car?” You asked, pointing at the black Audi that was parked in your driveway, completely ignoring the present that was now in your hand.

Please don’t see the mistletoe. Please don’t see the mistletoe....

“Not even a thank you?” Corbyn cocked a brow but sighed and gave you a reply to your question when he realised you were scowling at him. “Yeah, I caught a ride with him since we’re heading to the same place and he wants me to wash his car afterwards. This dumbass is too lazy to do anything by himself,” he explained and rolled his eyes.

“He’s in the car now talking on the phone with our manager, so yeah,” he added, still not noticing the mistletoe, even when he looked up a little and scratched the back of his head. Luck was definitely on your side today.

“And I bet you have tons to pack for your trip tomorrow, don’t you? So you better hurry home and get ready,” this was the best excuse you had to get him to leave before things got awkward.

“Hello? It’s me you’re talking about,” Corbyn ruffled your hair with his hand. “My stuff is all packed and ready a week ago.”

“But I guess I should get going anyway,” he said, clapping his hands. Jonah can be seen walking towards you both. “The last thing I want is to third wheel your date so see ya’ soon,” he bid his goodbye and you felt a weight lifted from your chest when he still paid no attention to the stupid plant.

But someone else sure did. You watched as a smirk grew on Jonah’s face when his gaze lifted higher to see the mistletoe above you. He was about to walk away when Jonah stopped him by putting an arm over his shoulder.

“Hey, Corbyn, don’t you think it’s extremely rude to leave a girl standing under a mistletoe without a kiss?” His simple question had you internally cursing him with a long string of profanities as embarrassment flooded your veins instantly, heat spreading from the tips of your ears to all over your face.

“Oh,” He dragged out the one syllable word when he finally took notice of the mistletoe as realization hit him. “No wonder you were acting all weird just now! Because you wanted a kiss from me but you didn’t have the guts to say it, huh?”

“No, I absolutely don’t want anything from you!” You waved your hands frantically in front of you in denial.

“Including your present? So give it back to me,” Corbyn instructed, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, in which you responded with another deep scowl.

“No, the present is mine now so you can’t take it back!” You practically screamed at him as you tightened your hands around the said object protectively. You friendly banter went on for a while more, with Corbyn teasing you and you shooting your crafty retorts back at him.

Jonah watched the exchange between you and his best friend silently with an amused smile and couldn’t help but burst into laughter when Corbyn suddenly said “you’re so annoying! It makes me want to kiss you to shut you up” in the midst of your playful bickering, making your cheeks redden even more and from the way you open and close your mouth without any words coming out of it, it was evident that you were at a loss of words too.

“Then kiss her, bro,” Jonah urged him with a nudge of his shoulder. “But not on the lips. Those are mine,” he said in a serious tone, the former cheekiness all gone. It was merely a simple sentence but little did he know butterflies erupted in your stomach just from hearing it.

“As much as I’d not want to kiss you, this is tradition and we can’t break it,” with a hopeless sigh, Corbyn scrunched up his nose in disgust but proceeded to lean in and give you a brief kiss on your cheek before pulling away almost immediately. “There, that’s settled. Hang your mistletoe elsewhere next time. The last thing I want is to fucking kiss my best friend again,” he left with a wave of his hand at you and Jonah.

“I guess it’s just the two of us now,” Jonah stated the obvious as his car pulled out of the driveway a moment later by Corbyn.

“Shut up and get lost, I don’t wanna talk to you,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking away from him, still mad that he made your friend kiss you. It was nothing more than a kiss on the cheek but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t awkward.

“But why are you still standing here then? Right under the mistletoe,” he moved closer and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, kicking the door shut behind him. You were engulfed in his uplifting and clean scent of autumn that you loved so dearly, considering that autumn is your utmost favourite season of all. “Wonder how did that get here. I don’t remember seeing the mistletoe the last time I visited.”

“Fuck you, Jonah.”

“Here? Against the wall? Damn, darling, you sure are one kinky girl,” he joked, earning a playful smack from you.

“Stop,” you whined and buried your face in his chest to hide your blushing face that was already as red as a tomato or even redder at this point. He chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your face and pushed it backwards gently before tilting it upwards.

“Sometimes I forget how delicate and innocent you actually are,” he breathed and you could feel heart doing jumping jacks when your gaze met with his intense one. Your mind went totally haywire when he started to lean in, your breaths mingling with each other’s. “And you have no idea how much I’ve thought about doing this.”

When your lips connected at long last, the wonderful sensation was like nothing you had experienced before. The kiss was soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath, one sensation, one timeless and passionate moment. You yearned for more — you wanted so badly to feel so, so much more of him — so you didn’t hesitate to comply to his wish when he bit your lip lightly for permission for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

The heat rose in your cheeks as your tongues entwined, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined, more curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of you. Instinctively, you grabbed fistfuls of the soft material at the front of his coat to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He groaned when you bucked your hips against his as his grip on your waist tightened to prevent you from repeating the same action because his self-control was reaching its limit. One more time and he might not be able to restrain himself from pinning you against the wall and ripping off your clothes to devour you.

Plus, he knew that you weren’t ready for that either.

“That was amazing,” you said in awe when you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, breathless from the heated kiss-turned-makeout session with your boyfriend. “If I can get kissed like that everytime I stand under a mistletoe, I think I might go against Corbyn’s advice and hang more of those around my house.”

“You don’t need a stupid mistletoe to kiss me, idiot. You can do it whenever you like,” he replied, his thumb caressing your cheek gently, as if you were his most prized possession that he was more than reluctant to let go of (which you were).

“But why haven’t you done that before?” You asked, staring quizzically into his hazel eyes that were the softest brown infused with green, as if he held the new spring growth inside.

“I wanted your first kiss to be special,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “There’re a lot of things that I want to do with you and do to you that I haven’t done yet, love, so you gotta be patient,” he promised and took your hands in his, squeezing them once.

“But what if I want you to show me what you want to do to me now?” You wanted to take the question back right after you said it out loud. His lips curled into a smirk which made you even more embarrassed than you already were, not saying a word. “No, I mean what am I even talking about...” you trailed off, pulling your lower lip between your teeth tentatively, not on purpose but because that was what you did everytime you were nervous, only to find his jaw slightly clenched as you did so before using his thumb to softly pull your lip back out.

“Desperate now, are we?” He teased, holding your hand as he led you towards the dining room where the various dishes you had prepared for dinner sat on the table. “Maybe I would, but let’s have dinner first, okay? Dessert will come later.”

It took you a moment to understand what he meant and when you finally did, your face turned red all over again.

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Ch 3

A/N: I don't remember Aedion’s mom every being explicitly named in the series so I just kinda made up a name. I picture her as being the young cool aunt so that’s just my portrayal, not canon lmao. 

Also I'm going to reveal what happened between them in the next few chapters so send me some theories in my asks!!!

Despite Aelin's attempts to forget about Rowan, the day continued to drag on slowly. First science class, where somehow her brain managed to relate molecular compounds to Rowan's face. Then lunch, when luckily Aedion had managed to distract her with donuts for the short fifty minutes. Now she was back in the last period of the day, left to brew in her own apprehension as the on-screen lecture lapsed by and turned into silent reading. 

Rowan had agreed to drive them both to her house after school, saving Aelin from walking back in the crisp autumn weather. She’d put more energy into her appearance today than she’d like to admit. If Aelin had one thing she love about herself, it would be her style. Today she was wearing a slightly too short wrap skirt and a loose satin black button up which she tucked one side into the skirt. She had chosen to wear her platform Doc Martens, naively assuming she could handle the ankle pain. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and she pulled back her short layers from her face with gold pins. Aelin fiddled with her hoop earrings as she watched the second hand move around the clock. 

“You’ll be fine.” Lysandra whispered, her head still staring down at the book they were supposed to be silently reading. 

Aelin scooted her chair a little closer to her friend, careful not to make a squeaking noise against the marble tile. “But what if I'm not?” 

Lys didn't look up but Aelin couldn't tell she was no longer actually reading. “Then call me and we’ll get white girl wasted and watch pride and prejudice for the hundredth time.” 

Aelin laughed under her breath, images of Mr. Darcy’s hand flex flashing though her mind. “Can you blame me? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers.” 

Lysandra shot he a conniving look. “Maybe this is your chance to experience your own enemies to lovers?” 

Aelin scoffed a little too loudly and someone behind them glared. “It would be more like friends who slept together to lovers to enemies to awkwardly fake dating to lovers.” 

Lysandra stifled her laugh and went back to reading. Aelin was glad that she had someone to talk to about whatever the fuck she and Rowan were about to do. Saying she hadn't thought several times about putting the breaks on this whole thing would just be a futile lie. Rowan resented her, he’d made that much clear over their very brief and clipped conversations. A part of Aelin was holding onto a hope that today they’d be able to work some shit out at least. If not, she was in for an incredibly uncomfortable few months. If they even lasted that long. 

Unable to focus, Aelin began doodling on the front of her binder. She was about to run out of space when the bell signalling the end of school rang at last. Aelin swung her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed Lys’ hand, pulling them both out of the classroom. 

“Holy fuck you are so pale.” Lysandra exclaimed. 

Aelin released her and offered a small apologetic smile. “I feel like I might throw up.” There was a moment of awkward silence before Aelin spoke again. “Will you walk to his car with me?” 

Lysandra grinned at her. “Duh! What are best friends for?” 

Normally Aelin would've hugged her but she was too focused on not emptying the contents of her stomach on the school floor. Lysandra was going on about something trivial in her attempts to distract Aelin when she spotted him. 

He was leaning against his car talking to Lorcan and Fenrys. Or more, Fenrys was talking and the other two were listening. Aelin approached him carefully, Lys an ever steady presence on her left. 

“Hey.” She said softly. Fenrys’ talking ceased and all three massive males turned towards her. They all seemed to bear matching expressions; disdain. Despite Lorcan’s body language suggesting indifference, his eyes held a hatred Aelin had rarely seen before. 

She swallowed nervously and bumped Lysandra lightly. Lys, thank god, received the message and smiled widely. 

“I’m Lysandra.” She said, her voice filled with fake sweetness. 

“We know.” Lorcan grumbled at the same time that Fenrys said “Nice to meet you.” 

They both then shot each other matching looks and fell silent. “I’m fine guys.” Rowan said at last, his first time speaking thus far. He had yet to look straight at Aelin. “I’ll come over after.” 

They nodded reluctantly and walked away, Lorcan fighting back a laugh at something Fen said. 

Aelin pulled Lysandra into a long hug. “Call me if you need anything.” Lys whispered in her ear. Then they pulled away and her friend was gone, leaving Aelin and Rowan alone. 

“Hi.” She said again. 

He only nodded at her and walked around to the drivers seat of his car. She groaned internally, already dreading the next few hours.

The car ride to Aedion’s house, where Aelin had been living for two years, was deadly silent. It wasn't really awkward, just the type of tension that you were too scared to break in fear of a storm. 

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Aelin unbuckled her seatbelt and was halfway to the door before Rowan even got out. She unlocked the door with a spare key and walked into the house. Aedion and his mom, Althea, lived in a small semi a few miles from the high school. Upon Aelin’s parents sudden death, the spare room had been shifted into Aelin’s room and Althea had taken her in with a warm heart. 

“Althea I'm home.” She called out into the house. 

A voice came from the kitchen. “I made some sandwiches.” 

Despite herself, Aelin smiled at the prospect of food. Without turning around, she led Rowan through the small hallway and into the kitchen.

Her aunt was sitting at the island, munching on celery and dip when they walked in. Upon recognizing Rowan, she dropped her food, mouth agape. 

“Althea,” Aelin spoke through her teeth. “You remember Rowan. We’re going to study for a bit.” She silently begged her aunt not to question it. 

Ever so slowly, her aunt nodded. “Of course. It’s nice to see you again Rowan.” 

Aelin swiped the plate of sandwiches off of the table and handed them to Rowan. “Take these to my room. I’ll be up in a minute please.” 

He nodded and turned on his heels quickly, clearly desperate to get out of this room. Once Aelin was sure he was out of earshot, she turned back to the kitchen. 

“Oh my god.” Her aunt whisper shouted. “Is that the same Rowan who’s dick I walked in on you sucking.” 

Aelin cringed at the reminder. She selectively tried to forget about that very awkward encounter that had traumatized all involved parties for several weeks.

“Yes.” Was all Aelin could manage to say. 

“The same Rowan who’s heart you shattered on my front lawn while me and Aedion watched from the upstairs window.” 

Aelin began tapping her foot. “Still mad at you for that.” 

Her aunt wasn't deterred. “The same Rowan -” 

Aelin put up a hand to stop her. “From now on how about we just assume it’s all the same Rowan. It’s probably wise considering I only know one.” 

Althea let out a small laugh at that and shooed Aelin out of the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, her steps unhurried on the wearing carpet. Upon arrival at her room, she found Rowan hovering over her desk. He was looking at the pictures she had framed, none of which included him. There had been a time, when nearly every single one those pictures had been him and Aelin together. In the heat of the moment, she’d smashed them all on the ground, glass shattering on her wood floor. She’d immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. Over the months since, she’d gradually replaced the photos with new ones. Her and Lysandra smiling from pool chairs. Her and Aedion drunk and laughing at something Aelin could no longer remember. There was one on the far left of her and Chaol at junior prom that Aelin had forgotten to remove. She looked beautiful that night, with a stunning pale blue dress that shimmered in the moonlight outside the venue. Chaol had looked handsome too, but he wasn't who Aelin had really wanted to be there with. 

It was that photo which Rowan was now staring at, his back to her. Leaning against the door frame, Aelin cleared her throat. Rowan whirled around, his face red as if he’d just been caught in the midst of something illegal. 

“I was just - uh...” He ran a hand through his silver hair in a way familiar to Aelin. 

“It’s fine.” She said, waving her hand dismissively. 

They both took up positions on opposite sides of the bed, Aelin at the head and Rowan at the foot. He crossed and uncrossed his legs a few times before deciding at last to lie on his stomach, legs hanging off her bed. 

“This is awkward.” He said, surprising Aelin enough that she fumbled with the sandwich in her hand before regaining control. 

“Yep.” She nodded, and took a bite to refrain from having to answer. 

He shook his head as if he wanted to say more and pulled out a notepad from his bag. “Let’s make rules and a contract.” 

Finished chewing, Aelin halted to gape at him. “Are you seriously going to make me sign a legally binding contract or some shit. Rules make everything less fun.” 

Rowan didn't meet her eye when he spoke again. “I’ve learned not to trust your word.” 

A blush crept over Aelin’s cheeks and she ignored the sudden pain in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, to say what, she didn't know, when Rowan interrupted. 

“Besides, this isn't about fun. It’s a mutually benefitting deal.” His voice was dead serious but Aelin couldn't help but scoff. 

“You’ve always been good at making fun things sound like physics homework.” 

“And you’ve always been good at taking nothing seriously and thinking only of yourself.” He looked dead at her when he spoke, his features stone cold. 

Aelin froze up and placed her half eaten sandwich back on the plate. “You’re being mean.” 

A smirk crossed his lips, although she read no real amusement there. “My apologies, your highness.” 

“Fine.” Aelin said, turning away from him to blink back a few barely there tears. “Let’s make rules then.” 

-------------------------

Rowan was being a dick. He knew that. And yet somehow, every time he opened his mouth something mean and condescending came out. Clearly, he wasn't as over Aelin Galathynius as he’s convinced himself to be. Sitting on her bed after school, scrawling notes in a notebook and eating sandwiches brought back memories he’d honestly rather forget. Maybe it had been her Aunt’s reaction to seeing him, or the picture of Chaol on the dresser, but all Rowan knew was that somewhere between the threshold and here, he’d turned into a douchebag. 

Currently, Aelin was rummaging through her desk drawer for a pen. She returned a moment later and handed it to him, careful to avoiding their hands touching. 

“Fake Dating Contract”

Rowan scrawled a title messily at the top of the page, trying to ignore Aelin’s eyes on him. 

“So what’s number one?” He asked out loud. 

She tucked a few loose blond strands of hair behind her ear and bit her lip in the way she always did when she was thinking. Unable to watch the familiar motions anymore, Rowan turned back to his paper. 

“Tell no-one.” He suggested dryly. 

“I already told Lysandra,” she admitted guiltily, “and I’ll have to tell Aedion as well.” 

He had already been expecting that response. “That’s fine. I wanted to tell Lorcan and Fenrys anyway.” 

She nodded in his peripheral vision. “But no one else. If this gets out I'll be the laughing stock of the school.” 

“Of course princess. How dare I endanger your precious reputation? Need I remind you that this was your idea.” His tone was mocking, even as his brain scolded him for the cruel words. 

Aelin blanched and shot him a glare. “Don't act like you don't need this either. I’m getting you what you always wanted.” 

 “How are you even planning on doing that anyway?” 

She wouldn't lie to him about this. Would she?

Then it crossed his mind, he had no fucking clue what she would do. There had been a time when he thought he knew every thought that Aelin had. But then she’d broken his heart and altered his view on people forever. His distrust was both justified and entirely her fault. 

“You won't like it.” Aelin said softly. 

“I don't really care how you do it.” It was a lie. Despite his disdain for her, he didn't want her methods to be anything that put her in danger. 

They went silent for a moment before Rowan spoke again. “What are the limits?”

Aelin arched an eyebrow at him. “Limits.” 

“Yeah.” He sat up, suddenly feeling too uncomfortable to be lying down. “Like if we're going to make people believe it then we’re going to need some displays of public affection or whatever.” 

Rowan didn't even need to look to know Aelin was delighting in how red his face had gone. A wicked smile crossed her face, “Are you trying to seduce me Rowan Whitethorn?” 

He couldn't help the short laugh that escaped his lips. “Stop that,” he grumbled halfheartedly. Aelin had always been the best at making him blush. 

“We’ll kiss here and there, go to a few parties together, and hang out with each others friends a few times. It won't be too hard.” She shrugged as if they were just discussing the weather. 

“Alright.” If she wasn't going to act like this was a big deal, than neither was he. 

Half hour of back and forth conversation and a few snide comments later, the rules were complete. Rowan ripped out the looseleaf paper and held it up for Aelin to read. 

Fake Dating Contract

1. Tell two people each ... ONLY

2. No making out for longer than 30 seconds. 

3. No being rude or resentful to each other in public

4. Rowan must fake date Aelin for four months or until she says otherwise. 

5. Aelin must get Rowan a football tryout by week two

6. Rowan and Aelin’s friend groups have to sit together at lunch

7. ANY RULES BROKEN RESULT IN THE SAID RULE BREAKER BEING BURNED ALIVE. 

Rowan had added the second one, much to Aelin’s amusement. She had stolen the paper at the end to add the last one and sign her name at the bottom, handing it back to Rowan to do the same. 

Once both their signatures were at the bottom, he pocketed the paper and stood to leave. 

“You’re leaving?” Aelin blurted out, clearly uneasy. 

“Why would I stay?” He meant it to come out rude, but it sounded more like a plea for a reason to. 

Aelin hesitated for a moment before offering him a small smile and turning away. Sighing, Rowan quickly exited the room, tiptoeing down the stairs and out the door to avoid any awkward encounters. It was only when he got to his car that he realized just how badly he had wanted her to make him stay. 

--------

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[milazka]

Can I request a blurb where you and Drew aren’t dating because you’re recently out of a relationship but he’s pretty open about his feelings & one day when he invites you over for dinner w/ his family someone asks if you guys are together and the cocky little shit says “not yet” so they ask what that even means he flat out just says “well I’m in love with her but she needs some time to realize she’s in love with me too” or something stupid & he says it with a bored face like nothing lol

hii ! this is my first writing in like two weeks, so it’s not my best work, but i loved the idea so i decided to write it to get me in my writing mood! hope you enjoy !

Thanksgiving was the most important holiday of the year for the Starkeys, it was a tradition for them to gather at the chalet during the weekend to enjoy the beautiful colours of autumn. It was your second year going with Drew, your best friend since you started college. You met him through your roommate, since his boyfriend was on Drew's football team. and so was your ex. You broke up a few weeks ago after you had refused to move in with him, you weren't ready and he didn't take it. The weekend at the cabin was perfect, you were gonna be able to take your mind off things. 

“Y/n, sweetie, would you like more turkey?” Drew’s mom asked you and you nodded, a kind smile on your face. 

Seated around the table, you were enjoying the food lovingly prepared by Drew's mother and aunt, which was simply delicious. At the same time, you were trying to keep up with the conversation between Drew and his father about the upcoming Super Bowl. A few knocks on the door interrupted the conversation and Tim, Drew's godfather, came in a few seconds later with his wife and children. 

“Sorry we're late, we got lost on the way!” he laughed as as he greeted everyone. You made you way to the door where everyone was gathered. Drew placed his arms on your shoulders, putting his chin on the top of your head since he was as tall as a giant. When Tim got to Drew and you, he looked at the both of you with a big smile. 

“You finally realized that you were made for each other!” he happily exclaimed.

“Well,” drew started, still hugging you from behind. “Not yet.” You almost choked, not expecting that answer. Tim frowned and pointing to you both, clearly meaning that you looked like a couple to him. 

“And why so?” he asked, hands on his hips, his head slightly tilted to the side. 

“Because I’m in love with her but she needs some time to realize she’s in love with me too, she’s kind of slow sometime,” he said, a cocky smile on his lips as you gently hit him in the ribs before taking his hand.

“I’m sorry, Tim, I need to have a little chat with this moron, see you later!” you said as you dragged Drew to the room you shared with him. You closed the door with your foot and faced Drew with your arms crossed over your chest. He had his stupid mocking smile on his face and you coudn't help but find him attractive. 

“What?” he innocently asked you, giggling. “You look mad, mama.” 

You rolled you eyes, but cracked a smile.

“I didn’t know you liked me,” you said, looking at the floor. 

“I don’t like you, Y/n, I’m in love with you,” Drew said, taking a few steps closer to you. He cupped your chin with his hand, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded and felt electric jolts in your veins when his lips crashed on yours.