#SILLY GOOFY TIMES FOLKS
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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 7 months ago
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My Dearest Friend...
Glaciated Memory AU | Master Of Ice Art | More to Me (pt 2)
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Imagine this, if you will: you meet your best friend when you’re young and he already has graying hairs.
Well, young is a relative term. You’re not exactly young, or at least you don't think so. The younger children around the village call you old even though that’s hardly something to judge one's age by--you’ve only just started university--but your friend is older.
You had never enjoyed the snow coating the grass or the cold and frost that cling to your lashes on the early morning walks to your winter classes before, but that day, with ice stretching in front of you, shielding you and keeping you safe from harm, that day when he looks back over his shoulder at you and gives you a warm smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, you exhale and see the frost on your breath and you suddenly find you can never look at things like winter and white and cold the same way again.
His eyes are so light of a blue they are almost white. They’re a heavy contrast to his dark skin. At first you think the ends of his long hair are white but it sparkles like glitter and ice and you realize it's coated in frost.
He saves your life.
He has a limp you notice when he leaves the village, simply a traveler passing through like a snowfall. You drop your papers, your pencils, your projects and they spill over the ice at your feet.
“Wait--Wait!”
He waits.
You design and build a leg brace for him in your dorm. He waits patiently, standing, still as an ice sculpture until you're finished the next morning.
“Come back if it stops functioning,” you tell him.
He studies you with calculating eyes that shouldn’t have been so warm when their colour was so cold. He nods.
And he does come back. A few months later. You offer him tea and show him your plans for a new brace--one that improves upon the failures of the old one--something you started designing the moment he’d left the first time. He sits down this time and smiles and you chat. Your breath shows in the air with every exhale the longer he stays. Your teeth chatter through your grin and he grins back before throwing back his head to laugh.
You become fast friends after that.
You learn to wear more layers. His hair grays more and you graduate after many long sleepless nights studying and designing. Biomechanics, biomechanical engineering, robotics--you find fascination with building, with bodies. “A marvel,” you mutter. “A marvel. I wonder if I could replicate it.” And he smiles at you.
He comes and goes as often as cold weather. You stay holed up in your house for the most part. Designing, building. You wave him over to his new brace, made from a material more resistant to cold than the last. You’re learning. He stays for tea and you make up a guest bedroom just for him. It stays there for years to welcome him whenever he visits.
Once, someone comes to find you for knowing him. You need a leg brace of your own after that.
He has more enemies than he has friends it seems.
“I am sorry, my dear friend,” he says. There is a blizzard outside.
Your discoveries are stolen one night and someone else’s name is plastered across your work no matter how hard you try. That breaks you more than anything else.
“I’m thinking about moving,” you tell him one night, as though you haven’t been silent for the past three days.
“Oh?” he says. “Where to?”
“Somewhere cold.”
He laughs.
He takes you to a place outside of any town. Remote and freezing.
“This is my home,” he says to you. It’s a perpetual winter.
“I think I’ll build a bunker,” you say, your nose numb from the chill.
You get kicked by a treehorn and you make a sign Beware of Treehorns and hit your dearest friend with it.
“I apologize, I should have warned you,” he laughed. “I had forgotten they were unfriendly to others.”
“My ribs do not accept your apology,” you sniff.
“Will you accept it instead?”
You huff and puff out frosty breaths and jam the sign into the ground.
Of course you forgive him. How can you not?
You build something to protect you and your bunker from the creatures when your friend is not there.
He enters your bunker shaking snow off his layers and off his straw hat.
“No--not on the floor.” You throw your hands into the hair. “Now I’ll have to mop it all up.”
“My apologies,” he says, though he’s smiling wide enough to show his white teeth. “I shall assist you.”
When the frost finally melts from his hair in the warmth of the bunker you see it wasn’t the ice and snow making it look white this time.
“What is this?” he asks, looking at your project, a skeletal structure made of spare parts you’ve started to construct, loose wiring and tools scattered about it.
“A marvel of engineering--or well, it will be soon.” He looks dubious so you take off your glasses and wipe them on your shirt. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only just beginning to build what I need.”
“I won’t be back for a while,” he says quite suddenly.
You put your glasses back on hastily. “Is something wrong?”
“Please, keep far away from the north side of the forest until I return.”
You’ve known of the serpentine war for a long time. You hear of it in the north when you’re purchasing supplies from the nearby town. You know it's over when he stumbles into your bunker and collapses face-first onto your carpet.
You have never seen him in red before and you find you do not like the sight.
The type of first-aid he needs is one that requires study and time that you do not have.
He catches your hand mid-way through bandaging his side.
“I’ll be alright,” he says, his voice like a cool, barely-there breeze.
“Of course you will.” Your teeth are chattering, you realize, even though it’s not cold in your bunker.
He does heal up. It takes a few months before he’s hiking with you to the town, leaning heavily on you and the walking stick you’ve made him. Your project lays on the table forgotten.
The Birchwood Forest is colder than it ever has been.
“I’ll be back,” he says once he can walk on his own.
“You won’t be leaving,” you say firmly.
“Julian,” he says. “My friend. I must go.”
You wonder if it makes you a terribly bad or terribly good friend for letting him.
You pour yourself into your work. A body takes shape in front of you. You do everything you can to make it human.
No one can steal this from you. It is yours and yours alone and it is marvelous.
It’s years before your friend returns.
Your creation is walking by then. There are wires still exposed and kinks to work out but you’re so proud of it. He enters through the door, slowly and with enough snow on him you’ll be swimming in it by the time it melts, but you don’t care.
You introduce him to your work.
“I used the face I knew best!”
Your friend smiles. There’s sadness there.
“Julian,” he says. “I’m dying.”
His hair is fully white.
Your smile vanishes.
You hadn’t noticed your own gray hairs and wrinkles until then.
“I have no family. No one to pass my element to. I have been looking, Julian, but…”
He needs your help. Not to live, no matter how much you talk to him, but to ensure the element he carries within him does not die.
So you create something that can store it. You travel to places together, you gather what you design, you design and through trial and error you make something that can hold the power.
“There’s no one I trust with it more,” you tell him as you tinker with your creation. “He’ll keep it safe. I designed him to protect.”
“Thank you,” your old friend says, like a breath of relief.
You create him a holder for his element and store it in the creation that shares his face.
He wants to pass in the snow. You carry him the Glaciar Barrens and it is there your friend takes his final breath.
And you discover you have done more than store his element.
Your Zane acts differently. From the moment your friend takes his final breath, your Zane seems to wake up.
You continue tinkering, researching and you don’t know what you have done but nothing can explain it.
It’s his eyes that are the same. His face that you replicated to the best of your abilities still has some differences.
The eyes however. The eyes you know.
You don’t have time to begin to miss your friend when he’s standing right in front of you.
Zane feels, just like you wanted him to. You put everything you can into upgrading him until he’s as human as he can be. Until he can feel the temperature of something by touching, until he can feel the breeze and the snowflakes as they fall on his skin.
You add a memory switch, something that is not human. You hope that it will return his memories from before, but it does not. You leave it untouched for years.
And then you are old.
You are old and your friend has not aged. You have built him everything, you have taught him how to speak again, to learn to read and observe, you have taught him everything you can. But you do not know how to teach him to move on. You never did.
“Goodbye, old friend,” you say and you flick the switch so that he may start anew and live on without you.
You watch the light fade and his eyes darken to brown.
You close your eyes.
And a long time later in a dusty empty bunker, they open back up.
----
Zane blinked.
It was cold.
He was standing at the edge of a village, bare feet in the snow. His toes were numb. Villagers who had caught sight of him were approaching, calling over others to bring warm water and blankets.
He felt as though he was forgetting something rather important.
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to-be-a-dreamer · 6 months ago
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Oliver Stark’s real accent this, Oliver Stark’s real accent that, WHYST THE FUCK did no one tell me about John Harlan Kim’s real accent before I started watching The Librarians on a whim and got immediately jumpscared by that motherfucker being AUSTRALIAN????????
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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
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Sorry, whats launginstock? Is that a ship name or? (I’ve seen it everywhere on here and am genuinely confused😔😔)
oh yeah it's a pairing lol - it's Barnaby/Howdy
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jonathanbyersphd · 2 years ago
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Stranger Things AU - Jancy as Paranormal Investigators Moodboard
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Jonathan Byers was 13 the first time he saw a ghost, he screamed so loud he nearly woke the neighbors. Seven years and one brief stint in Pennhurst later, he's crisscrossing the country with his girlfriend, dispelling rumors, exorcising poltergeists, and trying to bring families closure. Nancy Wheeler is first and foremost a skeptic, so naturally, it's her boyfriend who can see spirits. And if it weren't for her own personal experience with a haunting she wouldn't believe him. She doesn't trust half the stories they hear, but she's not about to let him go investigate the paranormal on his own.
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fuzziemutt · 2 years ago
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I apologize to literally anyone trying to play TF2 with me as i don't take the game seriously at all and my silly goofiness- i have found- doesn't resonate with the other players 😶
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fazedlight · 3 months ago
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Dance
It was in the small touches, the quiet laughs, the cozy cuddles.
Kara couldn’t help the way her heart would race each movie night, as she and Lena curled up into their corner of the couch - and she could hear Lena’s heart race too. Is this what friends do?, Kara thought, noting how Alex and Kelly almost mirrored their positions nearby, as did Nia and Brainy.
She turned back to the television screen - as Jack held Rose close, the two tapping along the makeshift stage as they danced to the Irish band’s jig - and Kara felt a flutter in her chest. I want to dance with Lena like that, she thought, watching the third class dance below the decks of the Titanic.
But somewhere in her mind, just friends just friends just friends rang out. What if I’m misreading things?, Kara thought, a little forlorn as she held Lena a bit tighter.
-----
Kara watched as Lena turned towards the dance floor, her hips swaying as she strode away, and Kara couldn’t help but blush.
Lena was breathtaking. She was always breathtaking, of course - but that night, as the drinks wore on, as Lena’s tiny flirtatious touches got more and more frequent, as her black dress hugged at her figure and her smokey eyeshadow - Rao.
It wasn’t on purpose. It couldn’t be on purpose. Was it on purpose?, Kara thought, feeling the slight panic in her veins. She was happy, she was giddy, she was confused - and not really sure what to do next. J’onn nudged her to go enjoy herself, to go dance where Lena had joined with Alex and Kelly. And why not?
Kara shuffled out of the booth, intent to take Lena’s hand and give her a twirl. She sensed that Lena would welcome it, that this was a feeling that went both ways.
But when she reached the floor - Lena’s dark eyes wandering over her - Kara froze in a panic. Finding the rhythm of the music, she threw her arms out, making wild and silly motions. Peak goofy Kara Danvers.
… so she chickened out. It was worth it to hear Lena’s laugh.
-----
Kara cheered as Alex and Kelly finished their first dance as a married couple, the slow beats of the melody coming to a poignant end. Glancing around at smiling and clapping family, her eyes briefly caught Lena’s across the floor - Kara quickly looked away.
The music transitioned into something upbeat, and Kara found herself amongst the others making their way onto the dance floor. Brainy took immediately to the center, drawing more laughter, as J’onn spun Esme, and Kara found herself goofing off with Winn.
The evening passed as guests wandered on and off the dance floor, casual chatter and warm hugs creating a gentle atmosphere as the sun set. Fairy lights added a softness to the cool night, and Kara found herself feeling quietly content.
As she set down her drink, she heard a familiar heartbeat behind her. “Hey,” Lena said.
Kara turned, smiling warmly as she hugged Lena, still reeling from the emotional conversation they had earlier in the evening. Lena curled up into Kara’s arms, and Kara could feel the cool temperature of Lena’s skin along her fingers. She held Lena tighter, warding off the chill of the evening.
“This next one will be the last dance of the night, folks,” the DJ announced, as the song started coming to an end.
Kara could feel Lena tense in her arms. Kara took a small, shaking breath. C’mon, Kara, be brave, she thought to herself. It was time to take a leap. “Would you like to dance?” Kara murmured.
Lena pulled back, smiling softly. “Yes, please.”
Kara could hear Lena’s heart start to race, drowned out only by the pounding of her own as she led her to the dance floor. Is this happening, is this happening?, Kara asked herself, taking Lena’s hand into her own, feeling Lena’s other hand drift to her waist as Kara pulled her closer.
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Lena whispered.
“For how long?” Kara asked.
“For years.”
Kara grinned. “Sorry to make you wait so long.”
Lena placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Better late than never.”
-----
They couldn’t stop.
Gala events. Karaoke nights. Weddings (they may have gone a little nuts at Brainy and Nia’s). Blasting an old stereo at home. Kara pulled Lena into her arms, and they danced.
It was one night in their living room - after an incredible date, celebrating their first year together - when Kara spun Lena particularly fast. Lena spun out a few feet away, laughing as she came to a halt. She turned back at Kara - a bit surprised to not be in the kryptonian’s arms already - when she saw the blonde on the floor, down on one knee, holding a ring in her hand.
“I never want to stop dancing with you,” Kara said. “Marry me?”
“Yes,” Lena said.
-----
Their wedding was small and private. Lena had never wanted the performance of the spotlight, as much as she was used to it. And Kara was content to have their close family and friends present.
The ceremony was simple - exchanging wedding bracelets and wedding rings, as kryptonian wind chimes sounded melodically around them. Alura and Zor-El finally met Eliza, all too grateful for the Danvers family giving their daughter a home for years.
Dinner was had and cake was cut, and then music started to play. Kara swayed slowly with Lena during their first dance, twirling her new wife under her arm, Lena smoothly following. “I can’t believe we’re here,” Lena murmured in her ear. Kara smiled back.
As their slow dance came to an end, Kara pulled Lena in to cup her face, their lips meeting to the cheers of their family and friends. Kara grinned as they broke apart again, Lena mischievously quirking her eyebrows. After all, they both knew what would happen next.
A familiar Irish jig began to play. Kara tugged Lena close, slotting perfectly up against Kara’s body, as others began to rush to the dance floor. “Ready?” Kara grinned.
“Always,” Lena smiled.
-----------------------------------------------
Third Class Dance from Titanic
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radioisntdead · 8 months ago
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Good evening folks! I'm dropping this lil headcanon thingy that's been on my brain, that very much leans into the fanon territory!
Trigger warnings just in case!: Mentions of mild cannibalism because it's Alastor, and biting
I'm still figuring out how to properly write Alastor so this may be OOC! This was not proofread so please don't mind any grammar mistakes! Enjoy reading!
Alastor just causally bites, Mainly your arms and shoulders, not in a sexual way he just... Bites
Your shoulder is exposed? How scandalous! Your getting bit, he's holding your wrist for whatever reason? CHOMP, You wear something that exposes your forearms? You guessed it! It's biting time!
Broski's teeth are SHARP, don't be surprised if you end up bleeding a bit and bro just takes that as like juice, a liquid snack,
A sauce if you will,
Of course the biting typically takes place in private or when the others aren't looking, because basic decency, just because you're in eternal damnation doesn't mean you should lack proper manners! Especially if you're romantically involved!
Also his eyes do the tweaking out thing whenever he bites you
Oh you think he's gonna look dapper and handsome when biting? No.
he looks like someone just injected feral juice and some type of drug into him, even if it's for a spilt second
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This is what you get when he bites,
Is it his way of showing affection? Is it some type of weird way to gain control over you? Maybe it's to make you flustered or lose your composer for a second perhaps even to cause you a moment of misery because he's a weirdo
Or emergency snack time,
I know he's a cannibal and not a vampire but I feel like you toss some glitter on him and shine a flashlight at him he'll be a decent dupe for that one guy in twilight
I also feel like you would NOT survive doing that to him, do not throw glitter on the Radio demon and then blind him with a flashlight
You two could be having a very nice time, taking a walk, maybe your just sitting side by side somewhere and he'll just gently take your arm and before you can even process it you feel a stinging feeling and you see the oh so feared Radio demon with his teeth mid-way into your arm looking goofy, so silly.
I feel like if you start biting him back he'll either be displeased with it and nip that behavior in the bud or it becomes a game between you two,
Bonding by just chompin' down on your S/O's arm very wholesome
Also I don't know if you can get infections from getting bit in Hell but I feel like you should disinfect the bites, he might have something
Thank you for tuning in and reading folks! I hope you all have a wonderful evening!
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lich-garden · 3 months ago
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YESSSSSSSSSS
TASTY; MY FAVORITE FLAVOR
Makinggggg a timeline of events for my lil au! Here is a highlight from Jeff's childhood (he was 3 years old)
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skzdarlings · 2 years ago
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the same but different | the threesome series ; skz ; han/reader/felix
masterlist.
threesome series part 3/4.
You grew up with Felix and Jisung.  Your definition of normal has always been unique, considering Felix is a faerie and magically connected to Jisung.  So even though you are dating Jisung, when Felix tells you he needs to marry to keep up appearences in the faerie court, you see no reason to say no…
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pairing: han jisung/reader/lee felix content info: sexual content. threesome. faerie au. this is an almost 16k word read. one day i will meet my maker and have to atone for that. warning for some ambiguous motivations plus general freaky faerie and supernatural stuff. felix and jisung have a magical connection, reader does not know the details but it seems they can physically feel each other's reactions and urges and they do a lot of the same things in an uncanny way. there is a 'consummation ritual' that involves being watched but reader is clever about it.
:)
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Autumnal flurries follow Han Jisung everywhere, little tornadoes of red-and-gold kicking up an elemental fuss wherever he steps. It might be a remnant of his time with the faerie folk, or maybe a coincidence, or maybe he is such a blustery font of chaos that he is simply kicking up wind storms on his own. 
He totters into the café with his usual trail of leaves, much to the displeasure of the bus boy who follows with a broom.  The wind gets restless at the window.  It throws itself against the pane with a heavy, reverberating thunder as if nature is knocking in pursuit of Jisung’s attention.  You watch a few pine cones hurl themselves at the glass before everything settles down on its own. 
Jisung pays it no mind.  He slides into the booth across from you, heaving a big dramatic breath. 
“Good afternoon,” you say, amused with your boyfriend’s theatrics.  They are as constant as his flurries.   
“Yo, is it, ‘cause ah, HAHA—I’ve been having a day.”  He thunks his head on the back of the booth and pretends to fall asleep.  His round glasses skew with the loll of his head.
Jisung dressed up for today’s date.  He is wearing a beige coat that flatters his warm complexion plus that cute checkered scarf you gave him last winter.   You don’t mind his usual hoodies and caps as it always puts a swagger in his step, but you appreciate his effort even if it is a little random. 
He lifts his head with another musical sigh, golden blonde hair fluttering from his breath.  His big glasses make his dark eyes even bigger and you smile again.
“Hi,” you say sweetly.
He whimpers with more theatrical misery. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he says like it is the most painful fact in the world.  “Why are you so beautiful?  And funny, and smart, and mine.  If you weren’t gonna be ugly and horrible, the least you could have done is reject me.  It wouldn’t have been so bad.  I could have been a lonely suffering artist, hidden away in a basement, composing symphonies for the beautiful woman out of my league.”
“I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera,” you say.
“Even better.”  Jisung sighs wistfully.  “He lived in an underground sex dungeon, right?  I don’t think he even paid rent.”   
You laugh into your hot chocolate. 
“What’s gotten into you?” you say.  It’s a rhetorical question.  Jisung is always a little silly. 
Your playful boyfriend thumps his hands on the table and glares past you, out the window. 
“Faeries,” he says brusquely.  “And their stupid faerie bullshit. My life is a nightmare and an arthouse horror movie and no one has ever suffered more than me—oooh, is that a chocolate croissant?”
You slap his hand when he reaches for your pastry.   He yelps like you chopped it off. 
“Jisungie,” you say, lifting an eyebrow, “what do you mean faerie bullshit?” 
He pouts spectacularly while unknotting his scarf.  He speaks in a watery, despondent voice, very contrary to his usual goofiness, “What do you think I mean?”
This, it seems, is also rhetorical as you have no opportunity to answer.  The bell jingles above the door and a little shiver moves down your spine. 
Unlike Jisung, you have never been to the faerie realm, but you have a gift for recognizing a supernatural presence.  Everything catches your eye as if they are sparkling fireflies, no matter their efforts to hide. 
The courtly fae, the ones that look human, have a tendency to cast enchantments both literal and metaphorical, their impossible beauty captivating to any human eye.  You are not immune to their gravitas, the way space seems to warp around them like earth is little more than gelatinous mire, but you can sense their other-worldliness before seeing them.   This is most likely due to exposure.  You did, after all, grow up with a faerie. 
You look to the doorway.  
Ah.  Speaking of. 
“Oh my god,” Jisung whines.  “He said he’d give me time to tell you.” He steals your hot chocolate and takes a swig like it’s hard vodka. 
“Tell me,” you repeat.  “Tell me what?” 
Though you are talking to Jisung, you cannot help but look over at his… his…
His Felix. 
Felix smiles when he sees you.  He scrunches his nose cutely and it makes his constellation of dark freckles dance on his sunny face. 
The freckles have always been an intriguing part of his glamour – for his human-like appearance is a mask shrouding his true faerie form – because faeries typically regard such things as imperfections.   Perhaps the freckles are residual from his time in the human realm, as Jisung’s flurries are the opposite. 
Felix is unbelievably beautiful.  He is wearing mortal clothes but he does not look truly human.  There’s something in his movements, fluid and dance-like, sometimes too swift to perceive.  His blonde hair catches the light with a perfect glow at every angle, his slender frame flawlessly draped in a black long-coat and a flattering black sweater.  His lovely ringed fingers part the air with his little wave and his perfectly pink mouth curls up in a sweet smile.  His dark eyes seem to sparkle.  
He crosses the restaurant in a few strides, quicker than a human would.  He smiles the whole time. 
“Hello,” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter.  Or maybe you’re the butter, his voice the knife, gliding right down the centre of you and settling low in your belly.  It has always had that effect. 
“Felix, hello,” you say in that quivery way you always greet him.   You grew up with both Jisung and Felix but Felix flits off to the faerie world when it suits him, and every time he returns you find yourself awestruck by him, as if you had never truly seen him before. 
Jisung smacks his head down on the surface of the table.  You and Felix look at him, you with considerable more concern.  Felix just draws his mouth into a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning, more like he anticipated his… his… his Jisung would behave this way. 
“Is it okay if I sit?”  Felix asks, pointing to the spot beside Jisung.  Jisung is somewhat sprawled in the booth but this doesn’t seem to concern Felix.  When you nod, he smiles, smooths out his coat, and simply bumps Jisung with his hip to squish himself into the booth. 
Jisung whimpers again, resting his head on the wall and pouting at it. 
“So,” Felix says.  He folds his hands on the table and tips his head, looking at you.  “How are you doing these days, hmm?” 
Faeries are known for their decorum.  It can turn sour very quickly, but it is imperative to adhere to rules of hospitality and general politeness.  
It is still strange and unnerving to have a faerie prince plunk himself into your booth and smile at you so politely.  Especially when you haven’t seen Felix in more than a year.   A year and fifteen days, to be specific, because Jisung has counted them all.  Jisung complains endlessly when Felix visits but he complains even more when he’s gone for too long. 
You think Felix must have returned to the human realm a while ago.  Jisung is usually friendly when he firsts sees him, but right now he is glaring. 
“What?”  Felix looks at Jisung.  They cock their heads at each other, the same angle, same time. 
It is always funny seeing them side-by-side.  Singularly, they look nothing alike, perhaps because Felix has intentionally deviated his glamour from being identical.  Jisung has a round face, cartoonishly cute at times, his build bulkier from his somewhat erratic workout schedule.   Felix is all sharp lines with a pointed elegance to his features, though his presence fills what space his slender body does not.  Their only similarity is their hair, similarly bouncy, alike in length, and identically shaded.  Right now it is a matching blonde. 
Despite their ample differences, there is an uncanny sameness to them.  They move the same way, tip their heads at the same time, roll their eyes in tandem.  They even take a breath at the same time.  You are certain if you pressed a hand to each of their chests, you would find their hearts beating to the same steady cadence.   
Felix was once a changeling.  Faeries sometimes swap their infants for human ones, occasionally for fun, oftentimes when their offspring is sickly or malformed.  Once a changeling swap has occurred, the faerie and human are inexorably linked to one another.  If the human parents try to kill the faerie or let it die, it will also kill their child, so it is in their best interest to nurse the sickly baby and hope the faeries swap them back. 
Felix was born too soon, a shrivelled little creature, third son of the autumn high prince’s third wife.  His mother swapped him for Jisung, stealing the little mortal away in his infancy.  Jisung’s mother was not a bewildered, simpering mortal, however.  Her resilience and intelligence was part of the family’s initial allure, but it was also the downfall of the changeling operation.  She ventured into the faerie realm and won back her son, plus the right to see the lonely faerie prince that had been so unceremoniously abandoned by his unloving family. 
She returned to the mortal world with Jisung and Felix.  The changeling prince spent his childhood bouncing between the human realm and the world of faerie.   You grew up next door to Jisung and the three of you have been a tight-knit trio since before you can remember. 
You love Felix just as much as you love Jisung, it’s just that… the faerie-ness complicates things.  You aren’t sure Felix really loves you or Jisung in a way you understand.  Even now, his enquiry after your well-being seems more like a necessary script than genuine question.  He will be uneasy until you complete your side of the exchange. 
“I’m good, Felix,” you say.  “How are you?”
He smiles, freckles dancing.  “Good,” he says.  “Thank you.”  
Felix cracks his neck and Jisung is compelled to do the same, though he looks irritated about it.  The depth of their connection has always been ambiguous to you, but sometimes Jisung feels phantom aches and pains, urges that come out of nowhere and pester him like an itch until he satisfies them.  
He seems impatient today, his glare not subsiding for a second.  
“You said I could have time to tell her,” Jisung says. 
“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly. 
“You gave me like five minutes, man!”
“It doesn’t take more than five minutes,” Felix  says.  He seems genuinely perplexed that Jisung would believe otherwise.  He looks at Jisung with a head tilt that Jisung mirrors, then they both look at you.  “Hi,” Felix says.  “Will you marry me?  See.  That was less than five minutes.  It was five syllables, actually.  Well, I guess if you had asked it, you would have said, ‘Will you marry Felix,’ so it would have been six syllables, but that’s still less than five minutes, even if you streeeeetch it ouuuut—”
“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Jisung says, then plants his forehead in his palm.  “That came out wrong.” 
Felix does not plant his forehead in his palm but he does rest his chin in his hand. 
“So,” he says to you, smiling. “Will you?  Two syllables, by the way.”
“Shut up about the syllables, dude.” 
“Wait,” you say, interrupting their inane blabber.  If you leave them to it, Jisung and Felix will dance in verbal circles for hours and still not clarify anything.  “Marry you?  Why would I— Felix, you know Jisung and I— I don’t understand what’s—”
You love Jisung and Felix.  You find them equally attractive, in their own way and as a complimentary pair.  As much as you adore Jisung, you feel bereft when Felix is gone for a long time.  Your crush on Felix was as inevitable as your romance with Jisung.  Only where that relationship has long since solidified into a stable love, you and Felix have never done much more than hug. 
Jisung and Felix, on the other hand, have shared their own intimacies.  You caught them kissing back when you were teenagers.  You got pouty rather than angry, viciously jealous of both of them at once.  Jisung was too flustered to speak, mostly chirping like a frightened bird, while Felix just smiled and cheerily said, “Jisungie says we’re practicing.”
“Practicing?” you asked, hands on hips.  “Practicing for what exactly?”
Felix frowned, looking confused, like it had never occurred to him to follow that line of questioning. 
“For girls!”  Jisung exclaimed. 
Felix snapped his fingers and nodded.  “Right,” he said.  “Girls. That was it.  Wait.”  He looked confused again and pointed to you. “Isn’t she a girl?” 
“She doesn’t count,” Jisung said, getting redder by the second.  You threw a shoe at him and stormed out of the house. 
That was a long time ago.  That momentary flicker of suggestion was the only time Felix brought up potentially kissing you.  Even then, it seemed less desirous than pragmatic.  
And now, for some reason, he is asking you to marry him. 
“Oh my god, man, maybe if you used more than five syllables, she would get what’s going on,” Jisung says.  His gaze softens when he looks at you.  He reaches across the table to take your hand, though it takes you a second to respond.  Your fingers are frozen stiff around your mug.  “Baby,” he says in a soft, apologetic voice, “I know it sounds a bit strange, but I promise I can explain.” 
“I have to get married,” Felix interrupts, ignoring when Jisung scowls at him.  “I think it’s just for, uhhh, appearances, basically.  My brother Chan just became high prince and I’m the only one of my mum’s kids who isn’t married and she thinks it makes her look bad because all my dad’s other kids have their lives together��� anyway, she said either I find a bride for myself or she was going to give me one.  And, uh, she’s not very, hmm, generous, is she?”
Definitely a rhetorical question.  You do not need to have met the faerie princess to know of her predilection for malice.  Felix would most likely be saddled with some Shakespearean donkey-headed monstrosity for all his days.  Felix, being Felix, would smile blithely and accept his awful fate, saying little on the matter when prompted. 
Felix is like that.  He shows neither amity nor animosity to much.  His emotions, whatever they are, manifest unpredictably.  He smiles a lot of blank smiles.  Occasionally he bursts into random tears that flood out of him with terrifying distress.  It comes upon him unexpectedly, so big that it is almost theatrical.  You think he might be mimicking expressions of human pain to convey whatever interior hurt he is feeling, however severe or benign, then it just stops until next time.  
He is not the sort to wail and harass you.  Even if he was desperate, he would not force you to marry him.  Looking into his dark eyes, you know that much.  There are plenty of stories the world over where supernatural princes steal mortal girls from their beds, where they compel them to dance until their feet bleed, where they fill their heads with songs that play until the human goes mad and dies in some anguished pit in their own mind. 
There are not many stories where they propose in a café.
“Felix, you idiot!”  Jisung smacks Felix on the arm.  “You didn’t even tell her the important part.” 
“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says. 
Jisung scoffs and looks at you, his expression soft again.  He squeezes your hand.
“Baby,” he says, “you know how Felix and I have a special, um, connection?” 
You know he means the changeling magic but you think about them kissing.  You push the image aside, as well as the lingering jealously, and nod. 
“Right,” Jisung says.  “We’re like… tied together and shit, right?  Like if I got hit by a bus, Felix would also go splat.”
“Faeries don’t splat,” Felix says, bristled. 
“Splat,” Jisung says sweetly, “like a big stupid faerie pancake.” 
“Jisung,” you say, “are you going to make a point?” 
“The point,” Jisung says, “is Felix is gonna live a long time, if he doesn’t go splat.  So that means… I’m gonna live a long time too.”
“If,” Felix interrupts, “he comes with me to live among the folk.” 
The fair folk.  Another name for the courtly fae.  Divided into seasonal realms, the four courts host a variety of faerie life.  Felix is from the autumn court and Jisung was spirited to it as baby.  You have never crossed from this world into the faerie world.  You know the stories better than anyone, almost more familiar with the foreign realm than the world around you, but its reality has only ever been a distant dream. 
This seems like the world’s strangest break-up: your boyfriend leaving you for his changeling faerie to live an immortal life in the faerie realm.
Except it’s not a break-up.  It’s a proposal. 
“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” you say, juggling feelings of confusion and jealousy and desire.  “What does that have to me with me?  And getting married?” 
“It will bond us together too,” Felix says, smiling again.  “Do you understand?  Isn’t that wonderful?  The three of us can be together for always.  I think you’ll really like it.”  He looks sideways at Jisung and adds, “And you’re smarter than him when it comes to the fair folk.  I would feel better if Jisung had your company.”
“What?” Jisung slaps the table.  “What are you talking about?  I’m the one who’s been there!  I am so totally super smart about faeries all the time!” 
“You once ate a magic apple and grew a tail,” Felix says.   
“You know I get snacky after my naps.  Besides, I got better.  Suck on some salty iron and boom, no tail.” 
Felix sighs, exasperated, and Jisung sighs, even more exasperated. 
“Please marry me,” Felix says imploringly.  “For all of us.” 
Felix cannot lie.  Faerie magic ranges from miniscule to immense, but lying is an impossibility regardless of rank. 
An inability to lie does not guarantee honesty. The truth can be obfuscated.  Faeries are clever with words, cleverer still what they reveal at all.  
Felix has not lied.  He needs to marry.  It would bond you.  You are smarter than Jisung when it comes to the fair folk.
Felix has not told the whole truth.  He does not need to marry you specifically.  He would be happy with just Jisung, you think.  They have something special, something you have always watched from the outside.  You know a lot about faeries but you do not belong to their world.  Felix could keep Jisung safe.  You are a spare. 
Despite the loving stare of your two oldest friends, you feel woefully insecure.  You take your hands back and rest them in your lap, staring morosely into your cooling hot chocolate. 
“Baby?” Jisung says gently.
You look up.  They look equally concerned.  They reach for you at the same time then look at each other.  They mutely come to an accord and Felix takes your hand.  You shiver immediately. 
“Sweetheart,” Felix says.  “It’s just me.  I won’t… I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I… I want to know… I mean, do you not…”
“You don’t want to come with us?”  Jisung asks, his bottom lip wobbling.  Tears spill over his cheeks seconds later.  “I-I-I know it’s a bit weird.  But you’ve always talked about wanting to see it anyway.   And you don’t have any family here anymore.  Are you worried about the royal court thing?  Because I’m gonna be there and Felix says we’ll spend most of our time at his bower anyway and okay I don’t even know what that means and I didn’t wanna seem stupid so I didn’t ask—”
“It’s just my tree-house, Jisung,” Felix says.
“It’s just his tree-house,” Jisung sobs. 
“It isn’t that,” you say.  You reach for Jisung so you are holding both their hands.  You give them a squeeze.  “I love you both.  So much.  It hurts a little sometimes because of how much.  And I’m scared… I’m scared of being left behind.” 
They both pause.  Felix looks more bewildered than any supernatural creature in history, you are sure.  They are inviting you to come along and you express fear of the opposite.  It must be incomprehensible to his mind. 
Apparently it also confuses Jisung because he softly whispers, “What the fuck.”
You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch. 
“I just mean…”  You are too embarrassed to vocalize it. 
Recognition lights their eyes at the same time.  Jisung rips his hand away. 
“I can’t be alone with Felix forever!”  Jisung cries.  “Are you crazy?  We need you!  Without you it’s just… just… just us.  It’s nothing, it’s empty.  You… you’re our person.  If you’re not there too… then… then… then I’m not going either.  I’d rather get old and die with you than live forever without you.” 
Felix’s mouth opens and closes with a storm of unspoken thoughts.  He has sobbed spectacularly at birthday cards and scraped knees, but he doesn’t cry now. 
Jisung’s exclamation rattles you.  It was such a genuine burst of emotion, so rich with devotion that you feel silly for ever doubting either of them.  Empty, he said.  You never considered what kind of echo might exist between them, how your presence filled it and made it better, not worse. 
You intend to remedy your blunder, an apology on your lips, but then Felix finds his words.
“I’ll tell you my name,” he says.  “My true name.  Will that be enough to convince you?”
Enough?
Enough?
You and Jisung stare at Felix with your jaws dropped.  Felix clenches his jaw, staring back at you. 
Faeries go by many names in their long lifetimes.  Felix was the name Jisung’s mother gave him, but it is not his true faerie name.  Names are powerful things.  If a mortal has a faerie’s true name, they can ensorcell and compel that faerie to do their bidding.  It essentially enslaves them. 
Faeries do not freely reveal their true names, not to other faeries and certainly not to mortals.  Tricky mortals have uncovered faerie names, stories of humans triumphing over wicked creatures, but you cannot think of a single story where the faerie got down on one knee and willingly offered it.
Because that’s what Felix does.  He gets out of the booth and gets down on one knee in front of you, then looks up at you with dark, desperate eyes. 
“I’ll tell you right now if that’s what it takes,” he says.  His hands are shaking.  The wind starts knocking at the window again, harder than before.  Leaves form columns of colour, shooting up to the sky, scattering in every direction. 
“Don’t,” you say.  “Don’t.”  The trust this requires is extraordinarily substantial.  It means more than any simple I love you.  Maybe Felix feels human love or maybe he feels something different.  Maybe losing you is not like losing a person, but like losing a limb or something equally vital.  It must be, for him to offer up his entire being in a word. 
The gesture means more than you can say.  The best way to reciprocate it is by refusing it. 
“It’s enough,” you say, choked up.  “It’s enough that you would offer.” 
“I’ll tell you,” he says, like he thinks you don’t believe him.  But of course you believe him.  He can’t lie. 
“I know,” you say.  “I’m sorry I doubted you.  Come here please.” 
Felix sits beside you and lets you wrap your arms around his neck.  He is tentative at first but then he looks at Jisung and holds you tighter.   The world outside settles once more. 
“Wow, that was intense,” Jisung says.  He grabs a napkin and blows his nose.  “Wheeew.  Wednesdays, am I right?”  
Felix pulls back, just enough so he can see your face.  You feel shy under his rapt attention, flush with warmth when his fingertips sweep from your temple to your jaw.  He holds your chin and tilts your face up.  He seems to be studying you.  This close, you can see all the shades of brown in his eyes, even flecks of dark, dark green and threads of gold.  There is a shimmer to the black of his iris.  If he turned a certain way, you think his glamour would disappear.  You think he would be beautiful anyway. 
He exhales.  His breath flutters over your lips. 
“Will you come with us?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling so soft and low.  “Will you marry me?”
You look at Jisung.  You cannot imagine any circumstance in which a man would look so eager for his girlfriend to accept another man’s proposal, yet this feels completely normal. 
Normal.  The three of you have always had your own definition of that word, haven’t you? 
You look at Felix, at the shimmer of his bold gaze.  
“Yes,” you say.  “Yes, I will.” 
Felix smiles and Jisung lets out a whoop!  You laugh, turning aside to wipe an unbidden tear from your eye.  Felix touches your cheek.  He looks more entranced than anything, blinking long and slow like a content cat. 
Jisung is still celebrating.  He shoves half your croissant in his mouth while you are distracted.  Then, with his cheeks stuffed full of pastry, his eyes get wide. 
“Ohyeah, weforgotsumffing!” he says around a mouthful of food.  He coughs, swallowing too quickly.  Felix clears his throat and passes Jisung your mug.  Jisung gulps it down while you and Felix exchange an affectionate glance.  
Then Jisung clinks the cup on the table and looks at you, sheepish. 
“Haha,” he says.  “By the way, you have to fuck Felix.” 
-
There are entrances to faerie in the deepest part of the woods.  Doorways are found in unlikely patterns that most humans will declare peculiar but innocuous: rings of spotted mushrooms, circular patches of darkening grass, shadows that arch with a perfect curve beneath a canopy of leaves.   
You have known this all your life, but you also knew to never go looking.  Not on your own.  A mortal wandering into faerie is not so different from a lamb wandering into a wolf den.  
Even with a wolf escort, you feel like that vulnerable lamb.  You hold hands with Jisung the entire trek, trailing behind Felix who hums as he lightly dances his way through even the harshest terrain.  Finally you come across two branches, twining up and up until they tangle like two hands clasping across a chasm.  
Winded from the exertion of the hike, you and Jisung come to a slow stop to catch your breaths.  Felix hurries ahead, his face brightening as he approaches the archway. 
“You ready?”  Jisung asks, squeezing your hand.
“Yeah,” you say.  “You?”
“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” he says with a laugh.  You look at him only to find his gaze turned on the archway, faraway with reminiscence.  “I remember it, you know,” he says.
“What?” you ask.  Jisung has never mentioned this before. “But you were just a baby.”
He looks at you with surprise, like he didn’t expect an answer.  Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud.  He laughs, deflecting the tension, and rubs the back of his neck. 
“Yeah, I know,” he says.  “Magic I guess, or something.  I dunno.  I just know I remember it.  There’s stuff that happened last week I can’t remember.  In a year, or fifty, or a hundred, I don’t know what I’ll remember from here.  But I remember this place like I never left.” 
You squeeze his hand again.  He looks at you and smiles, squeezing back. 
“Come on!”  Felix calls.  He is standing at the archway, waving to you.  He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a leather satchel slung across his chest.  The mundanity of his clothing looks unnatural.  If he looked inhuman in that café, he looks even less human now.  His glamour is in tact, his freckles pronounced, but there is a quality to him that defies logic.  He looks like he could take off flying and it would not be unusual. 
You and Jisung exchange a final glance then approach.  Felix smiles and walks backwards through the archway.  You can see him clearly as if he merely took another step in the woods.  He holds out his hands, you and Jisung taking one each, then you step through as well. 
Oh.
October orange sunlight pours through the trees, the early sunset colour of a clear autumn day at its close.  The woods are a mosaic of colour: green, orange, yellow, red, brown, little swirls of leaves flying from branch to branch, gathering in piles and scattering again.  You watch leaves settle over a pile of bones only for the whole apparatus to knit itself together.  You stumble to a surprised stop as a cat made of bones and leaves unfurls before your eyes.  It scampers up to Felix, rattling like an ivory windchime and somehow still purring.  Felix scratches behind its leafy ears, smiling and greeting the kitty affectionately. 
“Come on,” Felix says, not noticing the way you and Jisung are completely arrested by the sight of the cat.  “It’s not far from here.” 
It is the domicile of the autumn court.   It is built into the woods, or swallowed by it, grand structures built within and around trees, some abodes very high in the sunlit branches, some disappearing into the ground.  They are decorated with garlands of dried flowers, gardens of gourds and harvest fruit weaving around the lower rooms.  You jump, startled, when a pile of nearby leaves rises up, revealing itself to be a deer, presumably also made of bones beneath its leafy surface. 
“Whoa,” Jisung says, an apt summary.   The leaf animals have no eyes, the faces uncanny.  The deer turns its neck with a click of bone, dipping its head in a respectful bow to Felix as he passes. 
Felix doesn’t notice.  He is watching you and Jisung now, smiling with so much mirth you think he might start glowing. 
“Do you like it?” he asks, looking directly at you.  Maybe he knows what Jisung is feeling without asking.  You try to school your expression to show more than just awe. 
“It’s beautiful,” you say.  You can see how a mortal could be a swept away by the beauty of the faerie court.  Between the glitter of crunchy leaves and the wafts of cinnamon and spice, it fantastically overwhelms the senses.  You can also see how quickly this dream could turn into a nightmare, if the sun was eclipsed and the undead creatures of the earth turned their vacant eyes on you.
You do not convey the complexity of your thoughts.  Felix takes for granted that you always tell the truth, even though he knows you can lie.  You think he sometimes forgets.   His whole face crinkles up with a smile now, maybe too severely, but you appreciate his attempt to render delight for you. 
“A little further to the palace,” Felix says. 
“Palaaace,” Jisung says in a sing-song, squeezing your hand.  He almost knocks you over when a bird swoops by his head.  This raven is real, not made of leaves, and it perches on Felix’s shoulder.  “Birds,” Jisung says woefully.  “There’s always a freaky-ass bird.” 
“This is one of mine,” Felix says, scratching its head.  “I think my brother sent it.”
You watch as the bird leans in, eerily person-like in how it seems to whisper in his ear before fluttering off.   Felix neither smiles nor frowns, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he comes to a halt.
“What is it?”  Jisung asks.  His startled tone reveals that Felix might be perturbed. 
“They’re expecting us,” Felix says, gazing ahead as if he can see your destination through all the foliage.  “They’re already preparing our wedding.”
“What?” you and Jisung say at the same time.  You look at each other then you ask, “Did you tell them already?”  Felix only proposed yesterday and he has not returned to the faerie realm, unless he snuck away overnight, but you don’t think so.  He spent the night with you and Jisung, Jisung insisting on being the little spoon between two big spoons.  Felix had his arm around Jisung and his hand in yours all night. 
“No,” Felix answers.  “I didn’t say anything yet.”
“This feels spoooooky,” Jisung sings, then laughs nervously. 
“Maybe,” Felix says with a casual shrug of his shoulders.  “Maybe not.  Let’s go.” 
You and Jisung exchange another look, but you have gone too far to turn around, so you follow Felix.  He leads you to a red-bricked path that thickens with moss the further you walk.    When you reach the base of a hill, Felix stops to hold your hand. 
“Don’t look back until I say,” he says.  “You could fall.  Keep your eyes on me or the cat.  She knows the way too.” 
The cat is running around your feet, mewling, though the clack of its jaws is louder than its airy voice.  You decide to look at Felix instead.  Apparently Jisung picks the cat because he coos, “Aww, she’s kinda cute in a freaky way.  What’s her name?” 
“Babyeater,” Felix says. 
“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.
You follow Felix and the cat up an incline that grows so steep that at one point you are walking perpendicular to the forest below.   You look at Felix the whole time, squeezing his hand tightly.   His returned squeeze is reassuring.  You remind yourself this is Felix, the same boy who kissed your scraped knees better, who sat through all your childhood tea parties even though he never really understood the concept of playing pretend, the same boy who has dutifully and lovingly obliged your every whim, however much he failed to understand its human purpose.  For Felix, it was always enough if it made you happy. 
He leads you safely over the crest of the hill, then it’s just a few more steps through a darker patch of woods before you are stepping into a huge clearing, bright and orange and gold.   Three massive, broad trees stand in the distance, an elaborate stone citadel built around the trunks.   There are faeries and other supernatural entities wandering around an autumnal garden, some scurrying with bundles of lights and candles and drapery.   The clearing and castle have been beautifully and frightfully decorated with pumpkins and dried flowers and bones. 
“Is this for us?”  Jisung asks.  “Uh, I mean, for you?”
“It looks like it,” Felix says uncertainly.  “I don’t know how they—”
Jisung screams, a proper shrill yell right in your ear, when something bursts out of some shrubbery and blocks his path.  You stumble back with wide-eyed surprise and Jisung instinctively shields you even in his terror.  Felix is not scared, his face neutral as ever, but his connection to Jisung has him reacting similarly, guarding you with his body. 
An eyeless husk straightens itself, bony limbs stretching for the sky.  You hear the crack of a neck-bone and the flutter of leaves, then all at a once a glamour settles over the faerie, revealing a handsome young man with short brown hair and dark eyes. 
“He’s still loud,” the faerie says.  “You were loud as a baby too.  Wahhh-wahhhh-wahhhhhh—” 
“Seungmin,” Felix says, nonplussed.  “Thank you for the raven.” 
Felix bows and the faerie, Seungmin, who must be the aforementioned brother, bows back as per the dictation of decorum. 
“Chan is mad he had to find out the news from Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his mouth quirked in a smirky little half-smile.  “You better to be ready to grovel.”   
“Ah,” Felix says.   He looks over at you and Jisung who are clinging to each other, still wide-eyed with surprise.  “Hyunjin is a prince from the spring court,” Felix says.  “He can see the future.”
“Oh,” Jisung says.  “Yeah, sure, makes sense.”  He looks at you with a face that says, it definitely does not make sense. 
“Spring court,” Seungmin says with a little eye-roll.  “They burst in here with a dramatic fuss like always.  It’s embarrassing that the high prince of autumn learned about his favourite little brother’s engagement from a different court...”
“I can’t help that Hyunjin sees the future,” Felix says, more disgruntled than you have ever heard him.  It occurs to you, as you look between him and Seungmin, that Felix stands out here just as much as he did in the human world.  It is different, as here it is the little cracks of humanity that fracture his faerie face.  Not just the glamour, the freckles or his clothes, but some intrinsic bearing.   Maybe it is the sameness to Jisung, the way they block you with the same stance, the way they shuffle on the same foot.  Maybe it’s something else, but it is suddenly pronounced. 
Seungmin does not appear to notice Felix’s tone.  He just gives another bow which Felix is forced to return.  You see Jisung twitching and you squeeze his hand. 
“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.    
“I know,” he says, then bobs twice in an aborted half-bow. 
You sigh.  You jump when Jisung shrieks again, startled by a little leaf-dog that comes running out of the shrubbery.  It is being pursued by some frantic sprites.  They yammer at the puppy in a faerie tongue as it starts to chase the cat.  All their bones are clattering as they run around, cat then dog then sprites.  Seungmin blinks at the fiasco then looks at Felix. 
“Let’s go,” Seungmin says.  He turns and gives you a bow, as is polite, then looks at Jisung and says, “Boo!” 
Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing. 
Felix gives Seungmin a little shove, his mouth a grim line again. 
You follow Seungmin further into the garden, coming upon a feast that seems to be currently underway even while servants continue to set the party around the guests.   Food appears and disappears off the table, some faeries eating and some of them throwing food at the servants.   You have heard stories of ensorcelled human servants being trapped in places like this, but you only see faeries so far.  It doesn’t put you at ease exactly, but you don’t feel quite as frightened. 
Then all the faerie guests at the grand table stop and look at you.   Then you are frightened. 
“Hi,” Jisung squeaks. 
It is nervously and thoughtlessly blurted, but it would be impolite to ignore it, so a chorus of “hi” and “hello” circles the table in return. 
Most of them have a glamour of some kind.  A stockier, handsome faerie with bright orange hair stands.   He is on the other side of the long banquet table but manifests in front of you in mere seconds.  You are very alarmed to find him wearing bandages under a black army coat, the white wraps stained with blood.  It is very at odds with his deeply dimpled smile. 
“Hi there,” he says, looking past Jisung and straight at you.  “Wow, Felix really did it.  Welcome.  Call me Chan.  Sorry for the, ah, blood, I think it upsets humans?”  This apology seems sincere enough, accompanied with a tilt of the head, but he offers no further explanation.  He pulls you into an embrace, tucking you into the fold of one muscular arm, and laughing with an unexpectedly adorable giggliness.  “We have a human little sister.  That’s fun, yeah?”  He looks at the table and everyone nods and claps, only a few characters mutely unresponsive. 
You smile, maybe.  It feels a bit boxy.  Your brain is fitting all the pieces together, recalling that Seungmin referred to Chan as the high prince of autumn.   Chan is thus the highest font of power in this faerie court and he is hugging you. 
The hug pulls you away from Jisung who moves closer to Felix.  You look at them, watching as they hold hands, trying to convey with your eyes that you would rather be with them.
There is no time for any extraction attempt because a fuss stirs at one end of the table.  A pink-haired faerie bursts out of his seat.  He is long-limbed, tall and spindly, and he runs around the huge table at a fairly human speed.  He is wearing a billowy green jacket and a long string of pearls, his pastel appearance at some odds to the deepness of the autumn court. 
“Hey Fee-lix! Heeey!” he says, very literally bouncing when he reaches Felix.   
“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.   
“You brought humans!”  Hyunjin says, sweeping down to look at Jisung, then turning his dark-eyed stare to you.  His glamour is astonishingly beautiful, as bright as his pearls, a face like a handsome marble statue and a supermodel’s stature.  But he slinks like a ferret, as smirky as a fox.   “The bride,” he says with something of a wistful sigh.  His dark eyes are sparkling.  “A faerie and a human.  How romantic.  I love romance.” 
Then you are freed from hugging Chan, but only because Hyunjin cups your face in both hands and kisses you.  Not a greeting kiss either, but a deep kiss.  You sputter when he licks you. 
“Um,” Jisung squeaks. 
“This is High Prince Hyunjin.  Of the spring court, of course,” Chan says amiably, not doing anything to stop the high prince of the spring court from sucking face with his brother’s bride. 
Hyunjin stops on his own, smiling at you fondly.  “Pretty girl,” he says, stroking his whole hand over your face.  “I wish I could marry you.”  This is spoken without much longing, but it must be true or he couldn’t say it.   
He turns his sights on Jisung next.  Jisung straightens, eyes darting around for an escape. 
“The changeling baby,” Hyunjin says.  “He’s so cute now.  Can I marry this one, Felix?” 
Jisung’s eyes widen, looking at Felix, then at you. 
Felix looks unamused.  “No,” he says simply. 
Hyunjin pouts, slinking up to Jisung.  He grabs his face, long fingers grasping him tight.  Jisung’s lips part with surprise, his cheeks puffing when Hyunjin shakes his head around. 
“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin says.  “You already have one.” 
“I said no,” Felix repeats. 
Hyunjin just sighs.  “I knew you’d say that,” he says.  “Oh well.”  Then he kisses Jisung full on the mouth too, Jisung squeaking through the very wet onslaught.  Hyunjin just smiles and strokes his face, then goes back to the table. 
Hyunjin’s self-introduction triggers a similar desire in the remaining guests.  Soon they are swarming you, forced into the vaguest semblance of a queue when Chan waves a demanding hand.  You meet Felix’s mother, who smiles and coos at you like she didn’t mandate a wife in the first place.  You meet Changbin, another half-brother of Felix, who thankfully follows the example set by Chan and not Hyunjin and simply hugs you.  He is so burly and strong that it lifts you off your feet, but he has enough restraint not to crush you, so that’s something.  
There are clusters of other faeries, all noisy, all dipping in bows or trying to kiss you, and all of them from the spring or autumn court.   A hush falls over the garden when the remaining guests approach for an introduction.  Felix finally appears at your side, Jisung too, standing on either side of you and holding your hands. 
“Winter and Summer,” Felix whispers as two courtly fae and their retinues step forward. 
You know very well why Felix deigns to warn you.  The autumn court and spring court, as per their seasonal equivalents, are shifting and transitory in many ways; they grow and they learn, and they often host humans, be it in a generous or malicious capacity.  The winter and summer courts are hostile to change, and both have little to do with humans at all.  Whatever human encounters have transpired in those courts have left few survivors to speak of it. 
Their glamours fit them strangely, like new clothes not yet broken in.   The first prince wears his glamour like a boy forced into dress clothes by a parent, walking with a stiff sort of discomfort.  His robes are coloured blue and yellow, long and loose, his blonde hair turning dark blue at the root.  His dimples are deep and cheekbones very sharp, and when he smiles he reveals a whole row of long, piercing teeth that he forgot to glamour altogether. 
You jump, staring aghast as the otherwise too-pretty prince sweeps into a bow.  He looks at Chan, sees him smiling, and copies the expression with a frightful brightness. 
“Prince Jeongin,” Felix says.  He squeezes your hand, reminding you to bow back. You do so swiftly.  “Summer.” 
“High Prince,” Jeongin says, laughing for some reason, a wheezing sound. 
“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says. 
“Had.”  Jeongin smiles again, his dimples deepening, his teeth glittering.  “I ate them.” 
“Oh,” Felix says. There is a pause as he looks at you then looks at Jeongin.  Your face reveals terror, you are certain, but Jeongin is waiting expectantly.  Felix weighs his words and says, “Uh.  You must be happy to be congratulated.” 
You wonder how you ever thought Felix was strange.  He seems so normal suddenly, the only one who finds something wrong with a person eating fourteen brothers.  If he did approve, he would not have to word his congratulations so strangely to avoid a lie. 
Unless he just did that to appease you, a small voice says in the back of your head. A different truth is not a lie.
You wish you were not such an overthinker.  This is Felix.   Your Felix.  Yours, yours.   As much yours as Jisung, who is breathing a little heavier, so it makes Felix breathe heavier, and their combined strain has you close to panting as well. 
You are thus all breathless when you meet the final prince, introduced as High Prince Minho of the winter court.  He is wearing dark clothes, apparently sans his usual furry winter accoutrements, and his glamour is a barely-there mask that vanishes when the light hits him at certain angles.  He wears it like a loosely tied scarf, grudgingly donned.  He has not glamoured his eyes, mismatched and vibrant and vacant of all human emotion.  He does not smile when he bows.   Like Jeongin, he does not hug or kiss you. 
He looks you over, his stare raking, then he does the same to Jisung.  Whatever he sees makes him laugh, though it is a derisive sound.   Then he looks at Felix and says, “They’re fragile.  Be careful, changeling.” 
When he leaves, Jisung whispers, “Honestly, that last one got me kinda hard.”
“Yeah,” Felix says, unhappily, “I know.”   
And just like that, you are trying very hard not to laugh. 
You look at Felix and find his returned gaze to be very affectionate.  You always thought his regards looked a little too precise, like he was concentrating on forming the appropriate expression, but compared to certain toothy grins and cold laughs, Felix looks positively alight with sentiment.   He still looks strange in his t-shirt and jeans, but you think he might look strange anyway. 
It never occurred to you before that Felix’s changeling life might have made him an oddity on both sides of the veil. 
You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly. 
Felix looks down at where you are holding his hand.  You see his gaze flit across to where you hold Jisung’s hand as well.  It exacerbates that pang in your chest, recalling your own jealousy when you found them kissing, plus all the years spent wishing you shared their magical connection.  It never occurred to you that Felix might feel some type of way about you dating Jisung, about you and Jisung both being human.  Maybe it reminded he was an outcast wherever he went.  Always very close to being part of something, never quite belonging. 
Funny enough, Jisung has always been significantly more blasé.   He sets his sights on what he wants and it never occurs to him that he will not have it.  He has Felix, he dates you, you marry Felix, he lives forever.  You look at your human boyfriend, at the way his dark eyes seem to sparkle as he looks around the garden.  You think somehow, despite his occasional shrieks and frights, he looks more home here than Felix. 
“Right then!”  Chan suddenly claps in your face, startling you.  “It’s wedding time, yeah?  We’ve never had a human wedding here before but Hyunjin is an expert so he helped us out…” 
Two faerie servants rip you away from Felix and Jisung.  Hyunjin follows you, looking very keen, his hands clasped behind his back but his whole face lit up brightly.  His eagerness does not put you at ease, nor are you reassured by his seemingly “expert” advice.  Seeing as he thought it was appropriate to introduce himself by making out with you, you sincerely doubt he is the human expert he has proclaimed himself to be.  
Sure enough, the slapdash preparations are very random.  You are shoved into a very pretty dress, but then Hyunjin attempts to adorn you with both a veil and a headpiece, and you can see an array of other accessories from international wedding regalia.  Being as polite as possible, you decline the offer to any headpiece at all.   
“Wow,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face.  “You are so humble.  Humans are so amazing, the way they just let themselves be ugly.  Wow.  Wow.  I won’t interfere with your hideous but humble head.  Should we kiss again?”        
“I think it’s better we don’t,” you say.  “It might wrinkle the dress?”
He nods sagely.  “That would be bad,” he agrees.  “Especially because your head is so bare and horrible.  The dress is doing all the work.  Can I put flowers in your hair or do you really prefer to be ugly?” 
“Uh, flowers, yeah, sure,” you say.  He says everything so frankly that you somehow can’t feel offended.  A compliment would feel just as meaningless. 
“I’ve always wanted to attend a human wedding,” Hyunjin says.  “You know, spring is a very popular time for human weddings.  But humans are always dying so fast after, so it makes me sad to watch them properly.” 
“You feel sadness?” you ask.  Though Hyunjin and Felix seem quite different, perhaps you can glean an answer to the depth of faerie emotions.  Especially considering this marriage business feels like an entirely different beast now that you are in a wedding dress with an entire congregation of faeries sitting in a garden waiting for you.  It seemed like a simpler affair when it was just Felix and Jisung in a café booth.     
“Oh, of course,” Hyunjin says.  “I feel sad all the time.  I feel sad right now because you aren’t marrying me.”  He says this with a great deal of joviality, smiling at you like he’s proud of his supposed sadness.  
You decide not to ask more questions on that front, because you doubt his answers will be very helpful.  You do enquire after the wedding festivities.  You try not to frown at the very random assemblage of traditions he has baked into a single ceremony.  It sounds like a tedious affair but you decide to brace it, supposing it could be worse. 
“Then we all watch the royal consummation,” Hyunjin says casually, adding another flower to your hair. 
You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.
“Did I stab you?” he asks, blowing on your head to check for blood.  “Sorry.  I keep forgetting pins in heads kill humans.”  He says this with a lot of exasperation, like it’s a personal inconvenience to him that humans die so easily. 
“No, it’s not that,” you say.  He pops another peony on your head, manifesting the little buds out of thin air.  “What do you mean ‘we all watch the royal consummation?’  Who is ‘we’?”  
“The high princes, obviously,” he says, tucking a rose behind your ear. 
You stare ahead, mouth hanging open. 
Yesterday seems so long ago now, but Jisung and Felix did explain to you that the autumn court required an act of consummation to legitimize the marriage.  Apparently it has nothing to do with virginity or rearing heirs, mostly functioning as a ritual for the sake of itself.  Once faeries decide something is a rule they must follow it. 
You were very hot in the face the entire conversation.  Jisung seemed content to describe the way you need would have sex with his changeling faerie, but you were too embarrassed to meet either gaze. 
Maybe it would have been easier if you did not want to sleep with Felix. If it was just a necessity, it would be meaningless.
But you very much do desire Felix, even if he only smiled blithely during the discussion.  He seemed unaffected while you were very flustered. 
This is a very different type of flustered. 
“I was not told there would be an audience,” you finally say.
“There isn’t usually,” Hyunjin says.  “But that’s how human princes do it, if I remember.  A whole council watches.  Felix doesn’t have a council, though, so we’ll have to do it.  It would be very rude not to indulge your human traditions.  There!  All done.”
He steps back to admire your appearance.  You are still frazzled from the conversation, from the strong floral scent that is now wrapped around you, from everything. 
“You look—”  Hyunjin pauses, then, “—not horrible at all!  I did a very good job.  Now the wedding can start.  I’ll tell Chan to start killing the sacrificial wedding goats.   We only have one and it’s made of leaves and bones but I assumed that would be okay with you.  This way we can just keep killing the same one over and over again.  I’ll be right back.” 
“Can I—”  You feel panicked.  You need to see Jisung.  Hyunjin has you sequestered in some little golden alcove.  You do not want to be hunted down if you just flee, so you ask, “Can I go look at myself in a mirror?” 
“You’re testing me,” Hyunjin says, his long fingers covering his mouth with a surprised gasp.  Then he giggles.  “I passed!  I know you can’t look at the bride before the wedding.  Wait here!”  Then he disappears out the gate and around the corner. 
You sit down in a huff and close your eyes.  You try counting backwards from one hundred to calm yourself, but you reach the low twenties and still feel tense.   
Then you hear the patter of human footsteps.  You know it is a human because faeries scarcely disturb the ground where they walk.  You hear the crunch of leaves and lift your head, feeling a rush of relief with Jisung pokes his head into the alcove. 
“There you are,” he says.  “Felix is – uh – they’re getting him – dressed – and I wanted –  wanted you—” 
You stand as he talks, as his voice drifts, as his breath catches.  He looks down the length of your dress then back up, his dark eyes watery as he exhales with a gut-punching whoosh. 
“You look so beautiful, baby,” he says.  “This – this feels weird.  I know it’s – weird.  But it’s not – it’s not wrong, right?  It’s just weird.  But weird isn’t bad.   It’s just—”
“Weird,” you say, with a little laugh.  “Yeah.  I know.” 
He smiles softly.  He wore his glasses here but he has since put in contacts.  His hair is neatly styled and he changed into slightly nicer clothes, still human world, but very handsome in his black pants and black shirt.  He is so handsome that for a moment you forget about all your worries, taking a step towards him with your hand extended.  He catches that hand, bringing it to his shoulder.  He sweeps you into a kiss that banishes all your bad thoughts, the familiar taste and feel of him engulfing you.   You sink your fingers in his hair, parting your lips under the press of his mouth. 
It's him who ends the kiss, breathlessly, stuttering, “S-sorry, wait.  I came here to tell – to tell you – the consummation – that pink guy—”
“I know,” you say with a cringe.  You bury your face in his neck.  “Ugh, a bunch of faeries are gonna watch me have sex.” 
“Faeries and me!” he says with a nervous laugh. 
“Huh!”
“I tried to stop it, but no one would really listen to me,” he says.  “Someone only listened when I said it was weird for a guy to watch his little brother have sex, and some people agreed, so Prince Chan said I should take his place, since there were no faeries of equal rank to him and at least I was human.”  He slaps a hand to his forehead.  “Sorry.  I tried.” 
“Oh, Jisung,” you say, giggling a little helplessly at your morose boyfriend.  “How do you get yourself into these situations?” 
“You’re wearing a wedding dress!” he replies. 
“That’s only because I know you!” 
“Your life would have been very boring without me,” Jisung says, smiling. 
“I know,” you say.  “It would have been awful.” 
Because for as strange as all this faerie nonsense is, you cannot imagine a world where you never knew Jisung, where you never knew Felix, where you never had this love in your life, as messy and jealous and complicated as it has been at times. 
You tip your head, gazing into Jisung’s eyes.  He shivers when you twirl a bit of his hair around your finger. 
“Jisungie,” you say, thinking of your own jealousy, of Felix’s confounding glances.  “Do you ever feel jealous at all?”
“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.
“I don’t know,” you say.  You are not sure how to explain it without seeming ridiculous, which puts it into some perspective.  “I mean, me and Felix are about to… you know.”
“Uh, yeah.  That’s okay.  I don’t want to have sex in front of the cannibal faerie,” Jisung says, making you laugh.  “Not a joke!” 
“I know, I know.”  You kiss his cheek. 
“I couldn’t be jealous of you two,” he says, looking contemplative, as if this has never really occurred to him before.  Then he looks at you a bit sheepishly, his gaze skittish in how it darts around. 
“What?” you ask, recognizing his shy mischief. 
“I think it’s… uh… kinda hot?”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “I love you and I guess I also love that stupid faerie boy.  And… maybe… I kinda wanna see…”
You feel very hot again. 
“You, um, want to watch Felix fuck me?” you ask, frankly as you can. 
“Yes.”  He stares straight up, his ears gone completely red and his cheeks turning pink.  “I think you’ll look hot together.  I was kinda hoping we’d do something like this one day.  I mean, the cannibal faerie is a surprise, but other than that…”
You kiss him.  His arms circle your waist and he tugs you close, the kiss deepening naturally.  You let all your flustered embarrassment fizzle away, thinking about Felix, thinking about Jisung.  You get a bit handsy, squeezing Jisung’s biceps then resting your hands on his chest.  He makes a little sound into the kiss, one of his needy whimpers.  It never fails to light you up. 
“I’m nervous,” you say, speaking low, against his lips.  “Thinking about so many of them watching me and Felix…”
It is clear by his gulp and frantic nod that Jisung finds the scenario sexier than he should.   “Yeah, baby,” he says.  “What can I do?” 
You know the faeries will be occupied with Hyunjin’s myriad of rituals for a while, so you peck his lips and ask, “Get me ready?”
“Ready,” he repeats.  His gaze jumps up to the flowers in your hair.  “You are ready.” 
“Not like that,” you say.  
Jisung really does his best to be appropriate, but he gets pussy-drunk faster than any man you have ever known.  A suggestion is all it takes.  You tap his shoulder and he obediently drops to his knees. 
“Baby,” he says in a reverent whisper, sighing, eyes closing when you run your fingers through his hair. 
Heavy-lidded and so seemingly submissive to your desire, Jisung looks up at you.  Then he reaches past you, grabs the chair by the leg, and yanks.  He is not too gentle, spilling you onto it with a forceful nudge. 
You know Jisung does nothing by halves.  He is singular in his passions.   You ask him to kneel, so he kneels, so he closes his eyes, so he opens his mouth.  He pushes your dress out of his way and licks through your panties until the fabric is sticky and you are so so wet that it clings to you.  Your thighs tremble and he whimpers softly, high and light in the back of his throat. 
“Jisungie…”
“Shh, shh, shh,” he says in a raspy voice, drawing the fabric aside.  “It’s okay.  Don’t cry.  I’ve got you, baby.” 
He speaks so sweetly, like he is incapable of being mean, even while he torments you with long, twisting strokes of his tongue, never committing to a single pattern.  It is a storm of sensation, rolling through you over and over again.  You are so sensitive that slightest nudge feels like a miniature orgasm all on its own.  You gasp and whine, trying and failing to close your legs around his head. 
“Jisuuung,” you say, your voice rough. “We don’t have much time, I need to come…”
He moans when he buries his tongue in you, when he licks messily up past your clit and back down again.  You grab his hair and tug, though it does nothing to deter him. 
“Your husband can make you come later,” he says, giggling an inch from your pussy.  “I’m just warming you up…”  
“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”
“Hmm?” is his reply, then he sighs and dives back. 
Your eyes close, brow furrowing in concentration.  You rock your hips against his mouth as he finally starts circling your clit with a single-minded resolve.  You feel flushed and shaky, pleasure and heat coursing through you, and you know you must look as ravaged as you feel.   
You open your eyes and see Felix standing in the entryway.  He looks astonishingly beautiful, his long blonde hair neatly styled back, his freckles pronounced and eyes so dark.  Long earrings made of sparkling orange gems dangle from his ears, looking at once like rippling flames and water running over bronze.  He is dressed in an approximation of a tuxedo, except the pants are leather and the shirt and blazer are cropped too short. 
He tips his head, his eyes on Jisung for a moment.  Then he holds your gaze unflinchingly, maybe daringly.  His smile appears slowly.  It is too gentle to be lecherous, tender despite the fact his gloved hand runs over his belt and tugs.  His tongue touches his bottom lip and he tips his head the other way. 
His presence startles you for a moment.  You should feel caught, or embarrassed, or something.  But the initial surprise fades and you just stare back at him.  You dig your fingers into Jisung’s hair and breathe harder as he strokes and strokes and strokes you with his tongue. 
Felix exhales.  His smile is still soft.  He lifts a darkly gloved hand and gestures to you, curling two fingers, a suggestive come here. 
Then Jisung’s hand goes from your thigh to your pussy, two fingers curling inside you without any resistance.  Felix’s smile curves into a pleased, satisfied smirk.  He nods. 
You come, holding Jisung’s face against your pussy, letting him moan and whimper with his own pleasure as you roughly fuck his mouth.  When he lifts his head, his mouth is so obscenely wet that you throb with a renewed ache of desire. 
“I think you’re ready now,” Jisung says.  He lowers your legs and slowly slides his fingers out of you.  Your breath catches, swallowing up a sound of a surprise when he uses both thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze – his and Felix.  Your head feels fuzzy and not with faerie magic. 
“I think so,” Felix says. 
Jisung does not seem surprised by his voice. He lets you go, your dress falling back over your lap.  He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks over his shoulder at Felix.  Felix approaches, his steps silent despite his big black boots.
You watch.  Jisung’s bottom lip twitches.  He looks up at Felix with the same hazy intoxication he looked at you.  Felix bites the tip of a glove, pulling the fabric off with his teeth, then he swipes his thumb across Jisung’s glistening mouth.  Felix brings that thumb to his own bottom lip, his tongue only just swiping the tip of it. 
Then Hyunjin struts into the alcove and slaps a shocked hand over his mouth. 
“What are you doing?” he demands.  You think he is going to remark on the man kneeling at your feet, not to mention your sexually dishevelled appearance, but then he says, “Felix.  You’re supposed to have a hat.” 
“I don’t need a hat, Hyunjin,” Felix says with a sigh.  “I would like to talk to my bride for a minute.” 
“That is impossible,” Hyunjin says.  “You need a hat.  Come with me.”
It occurs to you that you are watching the two most emotional faeries in their courts, even if those emotions are aimed in strange directions, like hats.  Because Hyunjin is very adamant and Felix is very annoyed.  You are more than a little concerned that if things come to a head, it will turn horrifying without much effort.
Then Jisung leaps to his feet and puts himself between the two faerie princes.  It surprises everyone to silence.  Even Hyunjin stumbles to a stop.  He cocks his head like a predator regards a measly scrap of prey, eyes flashing as he takes a menacing step forward.  
Felix has no time to react.  You have no chance to scream. 
Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.
He bows.  Hyunjin stumbles to a stop for a second time.  It takes him a second to realize what has happened but when he does his eye twitches.  He bows back, then straightens with a huff.
Jisung bows again.  You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your surprised laugh.  Hyunjin looks far less amused.  Glaring, he bows too, as per the rules of politeness. 
Jisung leaps to the side and bows again, forcing Hyunjin to follow him.  He does this twice more, leading Hyunjin to the exit, bowing back and forth the whole time. 
“Make him stop!”  Hyunjin shrieks.
“Okay, okay!” Jisung says, hands raised in surrender.   He bows one more time, swooping low, then he turns and runs as fast as he can.
Hyunjin, obliged to return the bow, goes chasing after him with a frantic yelp. 
“Is he gonna be okay?” you ask, springing to your feet.  You dress falls neatly down. 
“Yes,” Felix says.  “Hyunjin won’t hurt humans.  He likes them too much.”  He turns to you then, his expression returned to a more passive neutrality, though you do not miss the way he looks you over.  “Will you be okay?” he asks.  “I’m sorry.  I thought we would have more time when we got here.  I didn’t know they would do this.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, too shy for a conversation after he very much watched you orgasm.  “Um.  Might as well, I guess… get it out of the way.” 
“Yes.”  He frowns at this, turning aside.  “You want to… get it out of the way.  I understand.  I’m sorry it had to be this way.  You don’t want to marry me.” 
He says it so plainly and without any hesitation.  He must believe it is the absolute truth.  For a moment, you can only stare at him, his handsome profile, the tendrils of sadness that tug at his features.  How did you never see it before?
“Felix,” you say gently.  He does not look at you.  You touch his arm and he looks at your hand.  “Felix, I am happy to marry you.  I love you.”  He looks up at that, his brow furrowed.  “And Jisung,” you add.  “I’m… I’m glad it happened this way.  So that you and I—”   He turns to you and your heart skips a few beats, affected by the warmth of his steady gaze.  “So that you and I could come together as well.  And now the three of us—” 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, then looks aside.  “I’m sorry.  That was forward, yeah?  I just… don’t want the first time to be out there.  Is that strange?  To be honest, sometimes I don’t know what’s strange or what isn’t.  The rules are different everywhere, you know?  I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this.  I’m sorry.  We don’t have to—”
You cup his face and kiss him.  It is very stiff for a moment, because you are both surprised by your brazen action.  He somehow grounds himself first, a careful hand curling around your hip to guide you a little closer.  A breath passes between you then he kisses you back. 
You touch his chest, making a sweet small sound into the kiss when his lips slide so softly against yours.  You are about to deepen it when Jisung interrupts with, “Aww, you’re kissing!  So cute!” 
You and Felix look over at him.  His hands are clasped and he is gushing as only Jisung can. 
“I thought you were running,” Felix says, with a hint of amusement. 
“Stupid labyrinth led me back here,” Jisung says.  He mimes zipping his lips shut and gestures to you.  “Keep kissing.  Pretend I’m not here.” 
“I wouldn’t want to pretend that,” Felix says, so sincerely that Jisung’s eyes widen.  They look at each other for a long moment, then Felix looks at you.  He cups your face. 
Then Hyunjin comes running in.  He swings his arms in a dramatic flail and flower petals fly everywhere.  The leaf dog comes running in and starts nipping at the air, trying to catch the petals.  In the midst of this chaos, Hyunjin storms up to Jisung and promptly bows.  Then he shoves him to the side and grabs Felix by the arm.
“Hat!” he shouts.  “Now!” 
-
It is a twenty-six hour wedding ceremony.  You and Jisung fall asleep halfway through festivity number twelve, curled up under a furry blanket near a fire pit.  You wake when Felix lifts your head into his lap.  Jisung is already curled up with his head on your belly, so you smile and snuggle into Felix.  He cups your face and strokes your cheek, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face, making his smile seem bigger than usual. 
The consummation ritual is last.  It takes place inside the castle, in a beautiful room that appears to have been designed for this express purpose.  The mossy stone walls are decorated with dried flowers, the plush bed laden with thick red throws and burgundy cushions.   Despite the tall open windows, there is no autumn chill, a lit fireplace cozying the room with its warmth.
It would be a lovely chamber if not for the translucent curtain with a literal audience behind it.  The winter and summer princes sit ramrod straight, so uninterested in their surroundings that it actually puts you at ease.  Hyunjin looks… a little too eager to be honest, but you aren’t convinced he understands this ritual anymore than anything else today. 
Jisung is side-eying Jeongin, who is sitting beside him because Hyunjin refused to sit by ‘the annoying changeling brat’.  Minho is sitting between Jeongin and Hyunjin, casting the occasional side-eye to the spring prince.  Despite his stoic countenance, his displeasure with the company is clear. 
Honestly, the whole tableau is quite comedic.  You find yourself trying to stifle laughter when Felix finally arrives.  You were sent to separate rooms to undress and change into robes, but you arrived here first.   Felix looks at you curiously, clearly perplexed by your laughter. 
“You’re not nervous anymore,” he observes. 
“No,” you say.  “I’ve just been thinking like a faerie.” 
He tilts his head at that.  You smile and kiss him, a chaste kiss that makes his lashes flutter.  The little reaction tickles a flurry of butterflies in your belly.  You hold his hand and lead him to the bed where you sit down.  His eyes shift with a nervous scuttle, but he follows the direction of your hand when you gesture to him. 
You keep your eyes on his, intensely locked as you lift his hand and take two fingers in your mouth.  When you close your lips around his fingers and gently suck, his breath catches.  It echoes in Jisung. 
Then Jeongin whispers loudly, “Is she going to eat him?”  He sounds moderately intrigued. 
“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies. 
“I think it’s over,” Minho says, catching onto your ruse before anyone else.  
You smile and open your eyes.  You separate from Felix and turn your head to the silhouettes beyond the curtain. 
“A penetrative performance,” you state.   “I believe that was the requirement.  And I believe that should qualify.” 
You are stretching the meaning of those words and you know it, but that’s what faeries do.  His fingers ‘penetrated’ the breach of your mouth, so it should count on the most technical level. 
“All done,” you say with a smile and wave. 
“So you’re not eating him?”  Jeongin says, frowning. 
Minho is the first one to stand.  He flicks Jeongin’s forehead as he passes, but otherwise says nothing before fleeing the room.  Jeongin follows with a slightly disgruntled shuffle, then Hyunjin stomps his foot. 
“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung. 
The door closes behind Hyunjin.  Jisung claps a hand over his mouth and laughs into it, so hard he has to put a hand over his stomach as he doubles over.   Felix laughs too, a pleasantly low rumble that he tries to stifle with a cough.  You smile up at him, leaning back on your palms and admiring him in the warm orange light.  He tucks some hair behind his ear, regarding you with a very tender gaze when he nods his head in a curt little bow. 
“All done,” he says.  It makes your brow furrow: the little shift in tone, the tension that still draws his shoulders back.  You realize that even after everything, he is still uncertain about his place.  Even Jisung knows where he belongs, not for a moment thinking he should leave the room, but Felix takes a step away from the bed like he intends to do just that.
You grab his hand, drawing his attention back to you.  Blonde hair falls around his face, shadowing it.  He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, gaze somewhere on your chin. 
“Felix,” you say.  His fingers tighten around yours and it feels like a question.  You answer by tugging that hand, drawing him closer.  His eyes flash gold when you drop his hand to open your robe.  This time you can hear Jisung’s sharp breath too, all laughter subsiding as you let the robe fall off your shoulders, laying yourself bare before Felix. 
He looks awed but stricken.  You can see when he swallows.  He looks at Jisung then back at you, his brow furrowing.  His lips twitch in a bid to speak but no words come.   
It would be funny, this supernatural being somehow struck dumb by you in your most vulnerable state, but your smile is more affectionate than amused.
“Felix,” you say again.  “Have you ever done something like this before?” 
He shakes his head frantically, his eyes still running up and down your body. 
“No,” he says.  “Uh, no.  No.  I can – feel something when Jisung – when you – I mean—”  He chokes on an awkward laugh, turning away for a second. 
“I fucking knew it!”  Jisung says, poking his head between the folds of the curtain.  “Bro, you’re such a liar.  I asked if you could feel when we fuck and you said no!”
“I can’t lie,” Felix replies, turning to Jisung.  He forgets to be embarrassed while arguing, very plainly and patiently stating his case.  “I told you most faeries don’t think about sex like humans and that I couldn’t be certain what you were doing, yeah?  And I can’t.  And I would have told you more but you only asked the first time and I didn’t know you were going to keep… being with her.  And I – I didn’t want to make things awkward… for you… okay?  By thinking of me every time… so I just… What are you smiling at?”  His deep voice breaks, pitching comically higher for a second. 
Jisung is smirking and nodding, just a floating head with a vague silhouetted body behind the curtain. 
“Man,” Jisung says, “you’ve been acting like a monk but secretly jacking it while we get freaky in the other room… That’s naughty.”
Felix draws his mouth into a flat line then looks at you for help.  You are trying to hold in your giggles, lips pressed tight together.  When he looks at you, you exhale, waving at Jisung to back down for a second.  He ducks behind the curtain again, giggling to himself like the menace he is. 
Fortunately, Felix is easy to distract.  All it takes is opening your legs for his all his attention to zero in there.  He swallows again. 
“Sounds like we’ve been teasing you too long,” you say, your voice drawing his eyes back up to your face.  You smile and beckon him forward.  “Come on.  Let me make it up to you.” 
He looks like he is going to deflect politely, either because he is a faerie or because he is Felix, but then you grab his robe and yank him closer.  He stumbles up to you, his fingers fluttering at his sides and his shoulders still tense.  You take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, soothing him with another gentle smile as you unknot his robe.
He is already very hard and this seems to fluster him, but he points to the curtain and sputters, “He’s – touching—“ 
“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says. 
“Jisung, shh,” you say, trying not to giggle again.  “And slow down.  You’re always so impatient.” 
“Am not,” Jisung says, but you can see him lean back, folding his hands behind his head. 
You look up at Felix, holding his gaze the way you did when you sucked his fingers.  You like the way he twitches and breathes harder, the way his eyes flash, the way his jaw clenches.  His thumb curls under your jaw when your mouth slides over him.  You can’t help but moan when his whole face contorts with more natural emotion than you have ever seen from him.  His breath stutters and stops and starts, his sounds so low and guttural that you feel them inside you. 
“Oh, fuck, dude,” Jisung says, rasping.  You pull back just a little, drooling and stroking with your hand, and glancing at Jisung out of the corner of your eye.  He lifts his hips and squeezes himself over his pants.  “We were fucking torturing you, holy fuck.”   
“Mmmmrrgh,” is the approximate sound Felix makes.  His eyes are partially-lidded, his expression one of immense concentration.  He pulls your face back to him with a flick of his wrist.  Appetent and quite demanding, he leads your mouth back onto him and holds you in place to shallowly and gently fuck your mouth.  He makes a pleased sound, one of deep relief, his head lolling back and the tension leaving his shoulders.   
You let him set the pace, matching the animal instinct that overcomes him.  He stops himself when he’s close, breathing hard and stepping back.  You want to ask if he is okay, but you have to flex your jaw and your voice is momentarily shot.  Before you can find that voice, he turns to the curtain and says, “Show me what you did earlier.  I want – I want to do that too.” 
There is a quiet moment, Jisung maybe surprised at the sudden attention, but then the curtain parts and Jisung steps all the way through.  He has unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, his partially unzipped pants doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his fly.  The sight of him sets off more sparks, especially when he winks at you with all his cheeky wantonness.
Felix gives Jisung a once-over too, pushing a hand through his hair and steadying his breathing.  His features look sharper than ever, darkened with a determined resolve.  He says nothing when Jisung sweeps behind him.  Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at you while he gathers Felix’s robe and slides it off his shoulders. 
“She likes your freckles,” Jisung offers by way of explanation, smooching Felix’s freckled shoulder with a playful little mwah. 
Felix tilts his head and looks at you.  “Really?” he asks.  “I can’t fully scrub them off the glamour. I think it’s somehow your fault.”  This is aimed at Jisung.
“Everything’s my fault!” Jisung says with a great deal of pride. 
“Why would you want to get rid of them?” you blurt, showing just as much as horror as you did when meeting the cannibal faerie.   Felix without his freckles is equally abhorrent.
Felix looks at you, thoughtfully.  Firelight is flickering over the room but you do not think it is a trick of shadow when his freckles seem to darken everywhere. 
“Aw,” Jisung says.  “He’s flirting.” 
Felix looks at him with a certain degree of exasperation.  “Show me what I asked,” he says. 
“Oh, wow, okay, geez, pushy,” Jisung says, circling so he standing beside Felix.  Felix drops the rest of the robe, evidently not the slightest bit shy to be standing there naked.  Now your gaze is the roving one, jumping between them, darting upward when Jisung cups Felix’s face and turns it to him. 
“You need to turn her on first, man,” Jisung says, swaying to the playful rhythm of his own voice.  Felix follows, but his eyes narrow into judgemental slits.  Jisung seems unbothered by this, standing still, tucking some hair behind Felix’s ear.  “C’mooon,” he says, with an impatient little shoulder wiggle and a laugh.  “She likes you… she likes me… as they say… badda bing badda boom…”
“I don’t think they say that during sex,” Felix says, frowning. 
“He’s right,” you say, giggling. 
Jisung sighs and looks at you.  “No audience participation,” he says, miming a zip across his lips.  “Just sit there and look pretty, baby.  We’ll get to you.” 
Felix looks at you.  Jisung leans close to whisper in his ear.  You try to decipher what he is saying based on Felix, but all Felix does is furrow his eyebrows then look sideways at Jisung.  There is a moment of quiet, then they smile at the same time.
Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.
The last time you caught them kissing, it spurred only jealousy.  But that was different.  That was your childish reaction to exclusion, your own anxieties speaking over everything else.  This time, you are not outside of their connection.  You even swear you can feel the faintest tingling on your own lips when they gently come together in a feather-light kiss.   
Their hands trace similar paths, Felix’s slipping into Jisung’s pants and Jisung touching him back.  The kiss deepens until their tongues touch, then Jisung giggles while Felix grins.  They look at you at the same time.
“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward. 
They let go of each other and Felix climbs up on the bed, guiding you backwards until your head is on a pillow.  Long tendrils of blonde hair brush your cheeks. He lays over you and kisses you, pressing your head into the cushion.  Even lost in his kiss, you can sense Jisung with a fuzzy awareness.  You recognize the familiar touch of his palm, his hand gliding up your inner thigh.  Felix makes room, joining Jisung at your thighs.  You twitch with an instinctive little jerk, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at them.  Jisung puts a finger over his lips and shushes you, smiling. 
“We got it, we got it…” he says.  He cups the back of Felix’s head and pushes his head down to your pussy. 
Felix glances up at you, then him, then down.  His eyes close and he sticks out his tongue, his expression one of the sweetest pleasure when he puts his mouth on you.   What he lacks in skill, he compensates with eagerness, messily diving in with an open mouth, licking and kissing and making a mess of himself.  Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and tugs, laughing a little. 
“Easy, easy,” he says.  He and Felix look at each other as Jisung lowers his own face.  When he puts his expert mouth on you, your head falls back, thighs parting further.  You throw your arms over your head and dig your fingers into the cushions.  You chase the rhythm of his tongue, looking down when it stops, when Felix replaces him. 
“See, look at her,” Jisung says.  Felix looks up at you.  “Just like that.” 
Then Jisung joins him.  They torturously alternate whose mouth is on you.  Jisung dives at Felix, licking across his wet lips and kissing him before returning to you.  You can hardly tell one mouth from the next, gasping under two tongues as they stroke you and each other, matching blonde heads bobbing in perfect coordination between your thighs.  It is inhumanly perfect, so harmonious that it almost agonizing.  This is how mortals lose their minds here, you think.
Eventually you are so wound up that you can’t help but cry out. 
“Oh noo,” Jisung says, very unrepentant as lays beside you.  “I think we were teasing her… That’s so mean of us, isn’t it, baby?  Huh?”  He pinches your face in his hand, cooing at you while you playfully glare.  He giggles and kisses you, your own wet desire smeared across his lips.  “You’re so wet, baby,” he says, sliding his hand down your body and over your pussy, easing his fingers through the wetness there.  When you whimper, he whimpers back in faux sympathy, pouting and nodding.  “I know, poor baby,” he says, curling his fingers inside you.
Felix’s eyes light up, watching.  He props himself up on one hand and touches you with the other.  You make a sound against Jisung’s mouth, a breathy moan as Felix slides his fingers in too.  It’s thick, that many fingers at once and so suddenly.  Your thighs jerk and you whine into Jisung’s mouth.  You see stars when you close your eyes, their fingers moving at the same time inside you.  They share a heartbeat, a rhythm, not faulting in the slightest.
For a moment, you just lay there and dizzily take it, stretched around their fingers, wet and silky hot and so turned on that you feel like you’re floating. 
“Jisung,” Felix says in his rough, deep voice.
“I know,” Jisung replies, just as hoarse.    
Their fingers leave you and Jisung grabs your throat with that same hand, slick fingers nudging your chin to look at him.  Your breath catches and you think Felix’s breath catches too. 
“That’s my girl,” Jisung says, reaching down at the same Felix reaches up, a hand on each breast, teasing the pebbled peaks.  You squirm and Jisung returns his hand to your throat, smiling at you so innocently, scrunching up his eyes with delight.  “Good girl,” he says, squeezing.  Felix gasps then moans, sucking kisses wherever his mouth lazily roams.  Jisung places those same hot kisses on your neck, each kiss landing one after the other, lighting every nerve.  Teeth and tongue lave at your skin, no doubt bruising it with each little love bite. 
“That’s it,” Jisung says, and you really start to think your human boyfriend is made of more magic than autumnal flurries.  His dark eyes sparkle in the light, his mischievous smirk lighting up his handsome face.  He is so giggly and sweet despite the dastardly torture of his hands and mouth. 
You find yourself sinking into the sensations, eyes closed, body running on instinct. 
“Felix,” Jisung says.  His hand leaves your throat, sliding down your body.  You realize he is spreading your pussy lips again, teasing as Felix pushes inside you.  It is easy now that you have taken so many fingers, but the knowledge of what is happening, of who is fucking you, makes your breath stutter and eyes open. 
“Ohh,” is the only sound you can make, watery eyes on where Felix is moving slowly in and out of you.  His brow is furrowed again, that look of concentration, then he groans and all but sprawls on top of you, fucking you with messy abandon.   Jisung thumps his head heavily onto the cushion, panting heavily, as if he was fucking you. 
“Felix, you gotta—”  Jisung says, his own face twisted up with a tortured sort of pleasure.   Felix does not listen to him, still rocking his hips with a frantic unevenness.  It feels good and crazy and wild, your head lolling to the side, a hum in your throat. 
Jisung finds the resolve to push himself up, groaning with the effort.  You watch him roughly manhandle Felix, yanking his head up to get him to concentrate.  Felix’s eyes flash gold then go dark.  His mouth is hanging open and his cheeks are flushed.  He never stops moving. 
“And you said I was impatient,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing Felix’s hips and evening out his rhythm.  You suppose it stands to reason that if Jisung is the most pussy-drunk man you have ever known, than Felix would be too.  Except Felix actually is magic, and everything about Jisung seems to multiply in Felix.  He looks completely overcome.  Then Jisung suddenly asks, “Good tears or bad?”
“Good,” Felix rasps. 
“So you wanna keep going?”
“Ye-es,” Felix hiccups, then suddenly starts crying, all the messy human-ness mixing with his confusing faerie-ness, coming together in an explosive physical and emotional mania that has him burying his face in your neck and fucking you so deep and hard that your own sniffles start. 
“Yes,” you say at the same time as him, wrapping your arms around his neck.  Jisung touches your hand, his other still guiding Felix’s hips.  Felix moans in your throat then marginally turns his head. 
“Jisung,” he says.  “I can’t—unless you—”      
Jisung very unceremoniously shoves a hand down his pants, then looks up at you and smiles. 
“Okay,” Jisung says.  He moves and Felix sinks back inside you, moaning deeply, clutching you possessively.  You hold him back as fiercely, blinking up at Jisung when kneels near your face.  “Come on, baby,” Jisung says, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. 
“Yes,” Felix says, nodding at him and at you. 
You open your mouth, nodding at Jisung.  His pants get tossed somewhere and he removes his shirt at the same time his dick pushes past your lips.  They really do fuck with an extraordinary identicalness, perfectly matched without a word.  It is easy to fall into their rhythm, not even straining.  You feel like you were born to be here, between them, sharing them, sharing yourself with them. 
They come at the same time, Felix with his cheek pressed to yours, Jisung with his head thrown back.  They lay down on either side of you, flopping back at the same time. Felix has a completely dazed look on his face, his breath stuttering when you tuck some of his sweaty hair back.  He looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again. 
All three of you exhale at once.  The resulting giggle comes in three-way unison too. 
“Wow,” Felix finally says.  “It’s much more fun like this.”
“Hell yeah,” Jisung says, holding out his fist for a bump.  You swat it down before Felix can return it.  Jisung just laughs, snuggling up to you. 
Felix also rolls onto his side. He tucks one hand under his head and touches your face with the other.  You and Jisung both look at him, his faraway stare, the way a small smile unfurls on his face.
“You’re mine now,” he says.  “Forever.  Yeah?”  It’s posed like a question but evidently it is already fact to him, or he could not say it. 
“Forever and ever,” Jisung says easily, stretching out on the royal bedsheets like he has always belonged there. 
Felix looks at you for an answer too, still smiling.  You are not as easy as Jisung, but you try hard not to overthink. 
But you remember so many stories of humans wandering in the faerie world, never seen or heard from again, the tales of their disappearances ranging from beautiful to horrifying.  You think it would be impudent to think yourself different or better than them.  They thought they were safe too. 
The question tumbles past your lips before you can think twice: 
“Your true name,” you say.  “Would you still give it to me if I asked?” 
He clearly does not expect the question.  He blinks quickly, then his gaze darts to the side.  You look there to see Jisung nodding off, already half-asleep on your shoulder.  Felix is not sleeping.  You look at him, wondering still about the sometimes contradictory depth of their connection. 
“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask. 
“A little,” he says. 
You realize he didn’t answer your other question and you open your mouth to ask again.  He kisses you, cupping your face, making a happy sound when you kiss him back.  Jisung makes his own little happy sound, sighing on your shoulder. 
“I love you,” Felix says, speaking soft and low against your lips.  He strokes the side of your face.  “I want you to stay with me forever.” 
“You’d really tell me your true name?” you ask. 
“I’d do anything for you,” he says.  “I love you.” 
“I love you too, Felix,” you say, about to say more when he kisses you again.  He smiles so big and bright, it crinkles the corner of his eyes.  
“You do,” he says.  “That’s the truth.  You love me like you love him.” 
“It’s the same but different,” you say.   “Like how you love both me and Jisung.”
He is still smiling.  He kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly.  “The same but different,” he says.  “Yes.  I understand.” 
He draws you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head, sighing a happy sigh.  Jisung curls up behind you, already fast asleep while Felix murmurs sweet love confessions at you until you fall asleep too, nestled tightly and safely in his arms.
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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 7 months ago
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hey, here's a question:
WHY WONT KAI STAY AWAY FROM SKYLOR LIKE SHES OBVIOUSLY DANGEROUS
COLE TELLS KAI TO STAY AWAY FROM HER. NYA TELLS KAI TO STAY AWAY FROM HER. NOW EVEN I'M TELLING HIM TO STAY AWAY FROM HER
I'm sorry, I'm just worried :(
Can't wait for the next chapter :D
You know what that is an excellent question! (No need to apologize i love the all caps energy <3) And I will answer it because I actually love their dynamic it is so unhealthy rn in the fic HDJFJFJG
Kai stays near Skylor because he's self-destructive. He sees that Skylor doesn't care if she steps on his toes and isn't the least bit bothered if he snaps and Kai finds safety in that. She knows about what he views as the most shameful part of him and chooses to stick around anyway and that has made her the one person he feels he can just be around. Skylor uses what she knows to make fun of him and to his knowledge she doesnt care if she hurts his feelings and... Kai feels like he deserves that treatment rather than anything good or kind his friends try to give him because he only ever seems to return their kindness by hurting them. He identifies with Skylor more than anyone else. She's alone and he's alone. She's pushed people away by being horrible and he's pushed people away by being horrible. Why would he deserve anything better when he's such a terrible person who hurts everyone around him? Skylors voice matches the voice in his head. She treats him how he thinks he should be treated. Kai can't hurt Skylor. Because she doesn't care. And it's okay that she hurts him because he deserves it.
All that to say Kai's just in a really terrible mental state right now and it's making him do big dumb things and about to make him do even bigger and dumber things RIP to our resident fire boy
I can't wait for the next chapter either!!! Woo!!! Kai hit rock bottom and kept digging and now he's about to face the consequences for it godspeed dude
We have fun here
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adultbabystories · 5 months ago
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A night out at the circus? That was a strange offer by your friends, but you went along. Maybe years have passed by ever since you’ve been to the circus. You wondered if it was like you remembered. Your memory was vague about it, but when you and your friends parked the car, you saw the giant red tent. It was dark, but lights were shining on the red fabric from afar. A red carpet led the way to the entrance. The smell of popcorn and beer filled the space as you got closer. You and your friends were laughing about how silly it was all going to be, holding beers in your hands.
“Hey kids! Get inside quick!” a clown passed before you, shouted in a goofy voice, and squeezed his red big nose.
You threw the empty beer, got a new one, and went quickly inside. Getting inside was a sight to behold. The interior felt bigger than what you imagined from the outside. You and your friends found your places and sat down. The lights turned off and only spotlights lit the ring.
“Howdy folks! Are you ready for the show?” A clown shouted to the crowd as he was holding a comical big microphone.
“YES!” the crowd responded.
“Are you really ready? Let me hear it” The clown looked toward you and pointed, or at least it felt like it.
“YES!” the crowd shouted again.
The show was wild and funny. The clown's customs were colorful and silly. Each one had his own thing and color. One had fuzzy huge purple hair. One had huge shoes he could barely walk in. Another had a nose that covered almost half of his face. But there was one you would never forget his appearance. His face was painted all white, with a red smiley mark covering the lower part of his face, and red curls that looked like red springs, trying to bounce out of his head.
You had so much fun, that you barely noticed the pressure to pee building inside of you from those two giant cups of beer. You didn’t want to leave for the bathroom, the show was so entertaining, so you held it as much as you could. Eventually, you stood up and walked to the outside to find the toilets.
“You! The guy who’s walking outside! STOP!” you heard from the speaker, and the lights hit you.
You turned around and saw the curly clown was pointing at you. The lights washed all over you. You pointed at yourself questionably. 
“Yes you! Where are you going? We are in the middle of the show!” he asked, intending to get the crowd interested in the moment.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” you naively answered.
“Can’t you hold it to the rest of the show? You are such a baby! Isn’t he a baby people?” the clown asked the crowd, making them clap and cheer.
You turned red from embarrassment, gave him your back, and went outside. You had to pee so bad, you didn’t have time to think about what happened, not just yet. The toilets were around the tent, a bit far from the entrance. Next to it, there were the wheeled caravans of the circus crew. You could hear the crowd inside cheering and the faded voices of the clowns.
“Hey there kid, how’s it going? Have you found the bathroom yet?” said the clown with the curly hair.
He must have finished his act and went outside. He was smoking a cigar and the smoke moved around him in the light breeze. He looked at you, without the act from the show.
“No, not yet” you answered.
“It’s not polite what you did back there, only babies can’t hold and wait. You must be a baby. But you are funny, at least I can look at you and see you have The funny in ya. Ever thought about clowning? Do you want to clown around with us?” he asked as you took a big drag from his cigar, putting his lips around it, making it visible for you to see.
“What? Me as a clown? Nah, I have to take a piss, excuse me,” you said and turned away.
“You are certainly not excused.” you heard him say.
A second later, a bag was covering your head and it felt like two strong guys were holding you and dragging you somewhere. You heard a door slamming open and then closing. You don’t know how, but suddenly you were knocked out of consciousness. Sometime later, that could be moments, that could be minutes, you gained your consciousness back. You heard the crowd cheering very closely. Lights were shining into the cotton bag your head was in. You were wearing something else, something that wasn’t your clothes. You felt like you were sitting on something very thick and puffy, which seemed like between your legs as well. Maybe you wore it you thought.
“We have a surprise for you good folks! Do you remember the baby who couldn’t hold it before? Well, I’m glad to tell you that he is a baby! Our new baby clown! Give it up for the biggest baby of them all!”
Someone grabbed your shoulders, squeezed them, and pressed his head to the bag, and whispered.
“This is your birthday baby clown, the crowd is cheering for the new baby, make us proud!”
The bag was lifted from your head. You looked around, shocked. You sat in the center of the ring, in front of the cheering and going wild crowd. The lights were blinding but you could see you were wearing a comically massive white diaper and big red clown shoes. A bib with the words “big baby” was strapped around you by the purple-haired clown. A bonnet hat was strapped around your head by the clown with a big nose. You felt like crying from the humiliation.
“Awwww is baby gonna cry?” the curly clown asked, now not so serious like he was outside, but goofy and cheerful.
He took some kind of blue makeup marker and drew tears on your cheeks.
“Give it up for our crybaby people!” he made the crowd cheer even more.
He took a rolled-up carpet and unrolled it in front of you. It was a childish carpet like you see in nurseries.
“Crawl around for us baby! Let everyone see your wet diaper you needed!” gesturing you onto the carpet.
From the excitement and the commotion, you didn’t even notice you were peeing in your new diaper. Somehow the massive diaper became yellow on the front as you peed. You looked at the wet and yellow diaper, at the carpet, and the gesturing clown, and the cheering crowd. 
“Always, such, a whiny, baby. Folks our baby always wants us to pick him up! But he can crawl, I tell you he can! Cheer for him, tell him to crawl!” the clown thrilled the crowd.
“Crawl! Crawl! Crawl!”
They were cheering for you. They were cheering for the baby clown. You were it, you were the show now, give it to them. Crawl to the carpet. Crawl to the spotlight baby.
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My conversation with @itsclowntime about clowning got me really inspired to write this short story. If you like clowning or being naughty thinking about it, check out his page. A side note - I used AI to visualize the story. I hope it adds to your imagination.
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princessbrunette · 5 months ago
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when did you know you loved me? pt.3/4 ♡
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deer!reader had never been more comfortable with anyone in her life. she enjoyed that she got to be herself around him — a little weird, sometimes quiet, simply enjoying eachothers company until she could think of something to say.
“it feels oddly good. like the contrast of the cold shells on my hot back? it’s therapeutic.” pope observes as you sit cross legged on the beach beside him, placing the collection of shells you’d gathered along his bare back, enjoying the peace it brought you.
“okay new business venture, i offer my services of shell-therapy where i place shells on peoples backs along the beach and they pay me lots of money.” you smile, watching your boyfriend shake his head from where his temple rests on his stacked hands.
“oh hell no, this is a special service for me only. far too intimate. also as much as i enjoy this, i wouldn’t pay for it. bad business move.” pope banters in response and you laugh openly. he always entertained your silliness, or your goofy ideas that logistically made his head hurt just a little. to this, you felt a wave of affection.
“i love you.” you grin, shaking your head. it’s the thousandth time you’ve said it, but the abruptness of it compared to the conversation makes pope lift his head, craning it around to look at you with a confused yet adoring smile.
“oh— well, i love you. a lot.” he reciprocates and you lean forward, kissing his sweaty temple.
“can i ask you something a little weird? there’s a segment missing in my ‘us’ section of my journal and i wanna fill it out.”
“ask away.” he croons as he settles back down in the position he lay in before.
“when did you know you loved me? was there a moment? or was it a slow gradual thing that just crept up on you?”
there’s a silence for a moment as pope considers, before he slowly rolls over — tipping all the shells off his back back onto the sand and laying on his back once more, breathing out a slow breath of consideration. the sad “hey” that you were about to mewl at him destroying your artwork on his back died on your tongue, more interested in what he had to say.
“you know… there’s part of me that wants to say the first moment i saw you i was in love with you. i mean, shit — it absolutely felt that way.” he splutters with a quiet laugh.
“really?” you return his tone, chuckling as you gather your shells once more, not wishing to lose them.
“i mean yeah. when i saw you struggling to walk all those dogs along the beach after the storm i remember thinking ‘okay, that is definitely the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen’” he relays, soft smile remaining as he closes his eyes once more, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.
“aw…” you hum, pulling your knees to your chest and continuing to listen.
“and then of course i saw you again working at the library, and i knew i definitely had to have you, even though i kinda felt like a creep thinking that… because you barely knew me.” he cringes and you giggle, starting to place shells on his toned stomach instead.
“but i dunno… i think… i think i knew for sure that i loved you, like hard core— capital L loved you… was the first time you came to meet my folks. you came to dinner and you wore that pretty dress with the flowers on it? the one i love? and i could see the way my pops just thought you were everything, and my mom clearly adored you… and i realised i didn’t just love you… i wanted a life with you. like, the whole shebang… marriage, babies one day… all of it. you’re like… my forever. ugh, that was total cringe. but it’s true.”
he peeks an eye open, to see if you’d totally caught the ick for his sappy story, but was happy to see you grinning ear to ear. you launch forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth. it’s a little sandy and salty, but it’s pope — so you don’t care.
“i want you forever and ever.”
“yeah? good. i want that too.”
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anyca786 · 6 months ago
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Jimmy Kimmel Live
Y/n! Actress x Sebastian Stan (+ Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie and Paul Rudd)
A/N : Inspired by the Jimmy Kimmel Live interview during Captain America: Civil War (8years ago)
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The lights dim in the studio, and a booming voiceover fills the air. On the screen, a montage explodes – Captain America’s shield clashes with Iron Man’s repulsor blasts, Black Widow flips through the air, and heroes stand divided. The title card blazes: Captain America: Civil War.
Thunderous applause erupts as the lights return to a smiling Jimmy Kimmel. “Welcome back to Jimmy Kimmel Live! Tonight, we have a super-powered group joining us. Give it up for Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Paul Rudd, and the lovely Y/n!”
The five actors walk out, waving and soaking in the cheers. Jimmy throws them some playful jabs, then dives into the questions.
“Alright, let’s test your knowledge of each other. Chris has memorized all the songs of which Disney musical?”
“Frozen!” Anthony Mackie blurts out, earning laughs.
“Nope,” Chris smiles. “Anyone?”
Paul leans in, “Aladdin?”
Y/n and Sebastian speak at the same time, “Little Mermaid!”
"Yes" Jimmy confirms. The crowd roars with laughter. Chris throws his arm around Y/n.
“This is the kind of chemistry you see on screen, folks,” Paul teases.
“Well,” Chris grins, “Y/n and I might have belted out a few Little Mermaid duets in our trailers.”
"Interesting. Alright, let's move on. Paul's family name was shortened from what?" Jimmy asked.
Anthony jumps in with a goofy grin, “Rud-rud-evan-rudabar?”
The actors erupt in playful chaos, throwing out silly suggestions. Finally, Paul reveals the answer: “Rudnitsy.”
The questions keep flying. Chris nails Anthony’s debut film, and the crowd goes wild. The tension rises as Jimmy reaches Y/n.
“Alright, this might get interesting. Who is y/n's celebrity crush?”
Y/n hides her face, a playful blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Oooh, this is juicy!” Anthony leans forward.
Paul throws out a guess, “Brad Pitt?”
"Nope, try again" Jimmy says with a playful smirk on his face.
Chris and Anthony exchange knowing smirks.
Sebastian tries his luck, “Johnny Depp?”
Y/n shakes her head, even more flustered.
"Maybe I should just say it for you…" Chris teases.
"Please don't!" Y/n says blushing.
Jimmy, sensing the tension, prodded further. "Come on, Chris, spill the tea!"
Chris Evans & Anthony Mackie replied "Sebastian Stan!"
The crowd gasps, then bursts into excited cheers. Sebastian's cheeks match yours in a vibrant shade of red.
He leans towards you, a playful whisper brushing your ear. "Really?"
You nod sheepishly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "We'll talk about this later," Sebastian murmurs back, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
"Alright last question, aside from English, what other language does Sebastian speak fluently?
"Romanian!" Y/n replies immediately and the crowd erupts in whistles and applause.
As the show drew to a close, Jimmy unveiled a set of action figures – Captain America, Falcon, Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, and (your superhero name). The audience roared with approval as you held up your miniature self.
"Thank you guys for being here!" Jimmy said, extending a warm hand to all of you.
The cheers continued as you and your fellow Avengers exited the stage, the energy of the night buzzing in your veins.
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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 10 months ago
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01/20/2024 Crew Recap
TLDR; David Jenkins Message on IG; How you can help; Contacting Netflix, Prime, AppleTV; General Guidelines for Wooing Networks; New Hashtags; UK Crew Updates; Petition/Fundraiser Status; Articles; Extras; Rhys' Stiddy
=== Chaos Dad's Message ===
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David Jenkins messaged us FRIENDS and gave us a new heading to steer the ship for the crew. Truly an amazing and sweet message, and helping give @renewasacrew a good place to start on new networks.
== How you can help ==
So based on Chaos Dad's tweet, what the folks over at @renewasacrew have recommended is we focus our efforts on Netflix, AmazonStudios, and Apple TV. We'll be polite menacing but also doing some more specific wooing this time so please see below for more information.
= Reach out to Netflix =
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You can reach out to Netflix Here.
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= Reach out to Apple TV =
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You can reach out to apple tv by going here.
= Amazon Prime: Thank you @mermaid-stede for this write up: =
1) if you have an Amazon account, go to My Stuff > Settings > Help & Feedback > Provide Feedback
2) If you don't, write here
3) might as well try their customer service 888 280-4331, using the same strategy from above (though you might need an Amazon account)
4) and here's an email! [email protected]
Amazon.com: AIV Website Feedback Form
DIGPRJSURVEY.AMAZON.COM
You can see more of their write ups here
=New Hashtags=
#AdoptOurCrew #RenewAsACrew #SaveOFMD
Things to remember:
Only Message 1 of the 3 networks at once. We are wooing them, they want to be enticed, not included in a crowd. If you are reaching out to one, make sure to reach out to all three (just separately)
Be Polite, this is a bit of a different strategy from max, we WANT these people to pick us up, we're not grumpy at them.
Yes you can use season 3 and beyond, use the same terminology David Jenkins did.
More specific info from folks regarding the things to remember:
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=== UK Crew ===
Great job everyone! Your efforts made a difference! Thanks for the update @lamentus1!
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Something else to mention for our UK and International Friends that are reaching out via social networks or email/phone:
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=Daily Engagement Reminder!=
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Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia Page
Google Search for Our Flag Means Death
Google UK Search for Our Flag Means Death
Our Flag Means Death IMDB
=== Petition / Fundraiser Status ===
Petition: ALMOST at 75K!
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Renew as a Crew - Benefiting Rainbow Youth is fully funded at $17K!
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OFFP Care for Gaza - HITS $10K!!!! Great job all!
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=== New Articles ===
Fans Declare War Against Warner Bros., Light Up Times Square for Beloved Show
Our Flag Means Death’s Renewal Campaign Lands Times Square Billboard
=== Other Stuff ===
Some BTS from Vico's IG reels
=Wanna help out our fellow cancelees?=
Sign the Petition for Rap Sh!t!
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So Dad's message kind of blew everything else out of the water today, there were some sightings of various crew on the web but most of them were reactions to David's reel so I figured it probably wasn't worth adding today. Thank you as usual to the @renewasacrew team, and @TheCozyPirate for all their steering and insight and helping make these pivots possible each day!
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Side note: I saw a lot of really great stuff today-- people focused more on action with the renewal and starting to discuss fun things more and more, less dealing with trolls. I hope that means you all are getting some rest and avoiding some of the crazy shit going on.
Seriously, you're doing amazing. David sees it, the cast sees it, the crew sees it, we all see it. You should all feel super proud of yourself for all the hard work you're doing, whether it's just enjoying the show, being active in the renewal efforts, or just being you.
Please continue to make art, and fics, and goofy memes, and silly videos, and everything. Your creativity is so inspiring and fun and it keeps us all sane! (Also please share them with me I love them.)
On that note, here's Rhys grabbing one of those Stiddies.
Gif courtesy of ofmd-ann's post here
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ao3-shenanigans · 7 months ago
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Hello folks! Figured it was about time I made a proper introduction post!
This blog focuses on reading, writing, and fandom meta-content, particularly Archive of Our Own and Fanfiction as whole. We’re here for a silly goofy time to build community and have fun.
This blog is not officially representative of Ao3, nor run by a member of its team. I’m one person doing my best and having a good time :3
Some personal notes- I am pretty vocally aromantic (aro-spec) as well as a few other personal labels and am very much apart of the Magnus Archives fandom which pops up from time to time.
My pronouns are a mystery for you to figure out own your own/j
Though I don’t always respond right away, my asks are almost always open!
Some regular tags:
#ao3 shenanigans
#ao3 shenanigans ask
#ao3 shenanigans recommend
#ao3 shenanigans fanfic game
#ao3 shenanigans doodle
#my vendetta against ai ✌🏻
#not fanfic #not fanfiction
#the truth or dare saga
Truth or dare requests are currently closed! Thanks!
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trollprincess · 16 days ago
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On Election Night 2016, I called the national suicide hotline.
Okay, well, first I had a panic attack at work for obvious reasons. I was working as a temp at the place where I work weekend nights now, and as the attack was ramping up I decided to go home. It was a really bad attack. Like, I have a ten-minute drive home and I shook the entire way home.
I got home and was in the middle of my attack when I realized I was holding some of my medications. I can’t remember grabbing them. I don’t remember grabbing them. I do remember sitting there and thinking, “Maybe.” And so I picked up the phone and dialed the suicide hotline.
It kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing.
No one picked up. I hung up, then tried again in five minutes. I got through this time. I didn’t take it as a good sign. You know, in general.
I unloaded on the poor woman who answered. Which is, you know, their job, but still. I think I spent five minutes demanding she not find some way to direct cops to my apartment. I’ve told my brother the same thing, if I go to him because I’m having a breakdown. Never call 911. Never risk the cops coming. Never risk the cops deciding the middle-aged depressive is a threat.
The thing is, I knew what was coming. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. And I wasn’t. The only reason I’m still here most days is the thirty-pound lump currently asleep on my foot.
Part of my plans for the day of the election is putting all of the medication I have - iron pills, antidepressants, clonazepam, Midol - in a bag and taking it to my parents’ house. I’ll probably do it in the morning. Stuff the bag under my brother’s bed, text him the next day when I think I’m okay. Maybe text him I’m not, and to keep it a little longer.
All the “glorious revolution” folks who want to start some shit if everything goes wrong again .. I just can’t even. It’s vulnerable people on the chopping block, and people seem just sort of fine with that.
I don’t imagine getting people hurt for whatever delirious fantasy pops into my head. But I do imagine hurting myself. Five and a half years of two jobs and a podcast, no money, no retirement on the horizon, debt up to my earlobes, publishing looking more and more like some silly idea I had once that’s propping up a table somewhere in my apartment. A life I sometimes only barely manage to tolerate for the simple fact that my goofy, chicken-hogging dog needs me. What’s the point? What is the *point*?
Where does the point even go if the next four years do what the other four did?
I sound dramatic. I’m an anxiety sufferer, a disaster podcaster, a writer. Of course I sound dramatic. Ducks are going to quack.
I don’t think I can do this again.
… I mean, pity my therapist, I guess. She’s got to talk to me tomorrow after a month-long break and I am … you know. *gestures at the rest of this post*
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