#costume hot pink boa

[ded-and-gonne]

Thank you, Sheehab

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 10.

Summary: The last few days of the year at Oxford! Celebrations to be had, but also you contemplate what may come next for Oliver once the semester ends. Meanwhile, in a brief moment of downtime, you try and discuss Felix's weirdness from before exam season, but he can and will try and seduce you instead of having a real adult conversation. But unfortunately he may have had a point, because that real, adult conversation fucking sucks.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: discussions of oliver's father dying, discussions of jealousy

A/N: 5623 words. wrote this directly after finishing ch 9. and then was like, what if i edited this. which means the ending of this chapter is COMPLETELY different to what it was originally, and is a bit of a downer. but we need conflict, you know? and sometimes its genuinely hard to have these adult conversations at like 21 years old. emotions and such. also there's a wizard hat. half edited then i completely rewrote the ending and that's absolutely unedited. how are we feeling about leaving oxford finally????

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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It's always a big deal when the first years finish all of their exams and get their final results. Or, well, the rest of the students make a big deal about it. You're not sure who started the tradition, or how long ago, but it's a tradition you hold dear to your heart nevertheless. The first year of university is nothing if not overwhelming, survival of it was to be celebrated.

Last year the cheering crowd of your more senior students had made you feel like you had conquered the world. This year, you were bursting at the seams with excitement to be able to share in the tradition from the other side, especially since there were several first years in particular you wanted to celebrate with.

Everything about the tradition seemed tailor made for your brand of joy. It's bright bits of costuming and ticker tape canons, balloons and medals for the undoubtably exhausted first years. Clustered together by the main doors of the examination school, you and your friends press yourselves against the barriers that had been put up to give all the first years enough space. Still, front and centre, many of you, yourself and Felix included, had been handed medallions to give to first years, while the rest were all still clutching each other and giggling with excitement, reminiscing about how loved you'd all felt at this time last year, seeing everyone cheering for all you'd accomplished.

For the past few days since your exams had finished, those in your group particularly committed to the bit, you and Felix among them, naturally, had been frequenting as many of the local charity and party shops in town. Each of you were desperately searching for delightfully garish garments and props to wear and share.

The moment Felix had spotted the sparkly, pink cowboy hat on a mannequin, paired with a violently lavender feather boa, he'd clung to them like his life depended on him owning them, hearts in his eyes, absolutely refusing to let them go. On the other hand, the sailor hat for Ollie was your idea; something more understated for a man more understated than either Felix or yourself. While Felix wanted to protest, wanted to give him something a little more flashy, you thankfully got him to compromise by allowing him to pick your accessories. Which is how you ended up with a hot pink, bedazzled 'Mother Of The Bride' sash.

And a blue, pointy wizard hat.

Anticipation grew in the gathered crowd, all chatter and smiles and giggling as you waited for the doors to open. In amongst the growing noise, you turn the medal over in your fingers, gazing at it with pride, excited to be able to be the one to give it to one of your closest friends. You still have your own from last year, usually pinned above your desk, but right now in a box ready to be taken back to Saltburn for the Summer.

The moment you all heard the tell-tale creak of those large, wooden doors, the cheering began, and you're glad to be pulled from your thoughts and back into the moment. It grew into a cacophony, a roar of joy and delight as the ticker tape canons went off and the first years streamed out in a river of excitement.

Farleigh's always cut a defined figure in any crowd he's in, considering his height, but you'd also given him the heads up to look out for the blue wizard hat to find you. At first you saw him scanning the crowd, but it takes him barely a second to find you. He lights up, eyes fixed on your stupid hat, and he breaks away from the pack at a full sprint. He doesn't even let you give him his medal at first, he's laughing at the top of his lungs, reaching all the way over the barrier to pull you into a hug, almost dragging you over the railing. There's nothing to be said, only a joy that has gone beyond words.

"You're a wizard!" He finally manages amid laughter as he lets you go, leaning back to hold you at arm's length, taking in your whole outfit, "and," his head tips in further confusion, "mother of the bride?"

"And you're a first year graduate," you grinned, "do you want your medal, or do you have more important follow up comments about my outfit?"

"I several have follow up comments but- oh my god," his eyes go wide and he suddenly seems a little breathless, like it's only just properly hit him "I finished a whole year," there's a genuine quality to his voice that's not often heard from Farleigh; still half laughing, but it's almost disbelieving, full of hope without any hint of irony, "not, like, just a week, or a semester; a whole year. A whole year at Oxford University." Lowering his head, he finally lets you put the medal on him.

For a long few moments he holds it out in front of him with pride and joy in his eyes; a precious, rare sight for you to behold. Then, very suddenly, he grabbed your face, bringing you close with this intense, shocked look in his eyes.

"I topped three of my Lit exams," he hissed with actual disbelief, almost making it sound like a scandal, "I took a hit before my Modernism final and spent nine pages arguing that Trainspotting was Allen Ginsberg's Howl for the postmodern audience. I don't even know if I believe that. How was that the best essay they saw?"

"Farleigh," you chuckled, "you might actually just be very good at this." You gave his cheek a fond pet, but after a moment, a hand reached over to tug at Farleigh's shoulder, breaking your stalemate.

"Congratulations, mate!" It's Felix, all smiles, unsurprisingly, "why've you got that look in your eyes?"

"He took one of his exams stoned and still topped the class," you grinned slyly, before your gaze fell on Oliver. As if sensing this, Farleigh slid over to give Felix a proper hug and congratulations, leaving space in front of you for Oliver to step in with a shy grin. You tug on his sailor hat with a fond smile and he turns even redder.

"Congratulations, Oliver Quick."

"Thank you," his gaze flicks up for a moment, stifling a giggle, "wizard."

Puffing out your chest as you mock-straightened your pink sash you hold your nose in the air.

"And what of it?" You put on a faux serious voice. Oliver has to duck his head to hide how much he's laughing at the bit. Once you let it go and deflate, you do then gesture for him to come close, wrapping your arms around him.

"Proud of you, Ollie," you murmur, giving him a tight squeeze.

"Don't know if I could have done it without you and Felix," he admits softly.

"Of course you could have," you assure him with warmth as the two of you begin to pull away. Oliver's eyes meet yours, blue and intense and that same familiar searching that you're so used to by now that it's something of a comfort. For just a moment, you want to reach out, to touch him, to hold onto his gentle expression and this moment in your own two hands. You wonder if he can see it in your eyes too, can see you repressing that urge.

"Wouldn't have been half as good," with the smallest of smiles, just edging on knowing, neither his expression nor his tone gives away enough for you to know exactly what he could be meaning or referring to, if anything beyond general companionship. So you play it off, you let anything you might be holding onto, anything that might be too much for such a public forum, pass.

"Of course," you say loudly, blithely, tucking your arm in Felix's beside you to get his attention, "we're wonderful company!"

"What's this?" Felix turns, eyebrows raised as he looks between yourself and an amused Oliver.

"Just saying that Oliver's year is better for having met us," you say simply, airily.

"Without a doubt!" Felix agrees without any kind of hesitation. Farleigh rolls his eyes, but is laughing as he calls both you and Felix incredibly vain.

As the excitement begins to die down and everyone begins to filter out, your group begins to meander towards the road that leads off campus, with yourself, Felix, and Oliver trailing behind.

"What's next? I mean, what's the plan now? I know there's a thing tomorrow, but -" Oliver's tentative again, quiet and meek again, acting like he's on the back foot again.

"Step one," Felix begins matter-of-factly, "pub; celebrate; get shitfaced." You see Oliver glance dubiously at your foot-high, velvet wizard hat once more. He's been doing it a lot. You can't lie, you've gotten very attached to your stupid look for the day and do plan to keep it all night.

"Even with that?"

"I'm gonna die in this hat I've decided," you say easily, to which both boys snicker at your assertiveness on the subject. But soon enough, Oliver raises another question.

"And- and tomorrow, that's the- I heard there was an end of year gala," he hesitates as you and Felix both automatically confirm. It did not seem to soothe any of Oliver's nerves and he finally brought up, "It's black tie; I have a black tie - bow tie, actually - but I don't really have anything else that'll match the theme -" he babbles awkwardly, looking all kinds of mousey and small with his head bent like that, hands fingers twisting together in anxious shapes. Both you and Felix are quiet, stuck in thought, and it takes you closing your eyes for a few seconds, trusting your arm in Felix's to keep you on the right path, before it hits you.

"Walters of Oxford," you open your eyes, "on Turl street, I think," you pause for a beat, reconsidering, "maybe double check that." Squinting for a moment, you try and recall, "ten minute walk, I think? Depending on your route, I guess. Not far is the point." But when you look over at your companions, both are frowning at you, something incredulous in their eyes. "To... hire a suit," you explain almost sheepishly under their respective gazes.

"How did you do that?" Oliver asks softly.

"Why did you know that?" Felix adds, bewildered.

"Isn't it handy to know the best place to get good suits and expert repairs done?" You shrugged a little helplessly. However, as you let your gaze drift, you find yourself recalling something India had said about you always needing to be a step ahead, to always have contingencies in place so Felix need not ever be inconvenienced for too long. Whatever; you push the thought and India's past negative tone from your mind, telling yourself it's good information to have anyhow.

"Anyways, I was also looking into good places for suit hires, in case the worst happened, and wouldn't you know it, Walters does that too."

"I'll- I guess I'll head there tomorrow morning," Oliver says awkwardly.

Felix drops your arm for a moment, wrapping his arm around Oliver's shoulders, bringing him in close.

"I look forward to see you in a suit, Ollie," there was no mistaking the flirty tone he was using, and from the glimpse of Ollie's face that you could see around him, he was turning red under Felix's praise, "handsome man like you all done up," he trailed off, ruffling Oliver's hair before he let go, cheeky smile on his face and bounce in his step. He has to be aware of Oliver's nervous, starry-eyed gaze locked upon him, but Felix just strikes up a conversation with you, enquiring if you would be going in a suit or a dress.

"I'm going in a wizard's hat." You declared.

"I love this bit; you aren't even drunk yet!" Everything you do is worth it if it means Felix will look at you like this, with delight shining in his eyes and in his words.

The night - what you can remember of it - is phenomenal. Benji calls you Archmage of the Bride and it's the only thing anyone refers to you as for the rest of the night, everyone else loudly correcting anyone who gets it wrong. Aside from that, everyone is babbling and bright and so enthusiastic about the gala the following night and what they'll be wearing.

Oliver is quiet, tucked in between you and Felix, nursing his pints longer than anyone else. Felix's arm is around him, as it always seemed to be, and as the night goes on, more and more you get the urge to tip your head and rest it against Oliver's for several long moments at a time.

But there's something different about tonight. Oliver doesn't reach out to you, even subtly. His thigh against yours is forced proximity, but his hands are always on his drink and his ankles are crossed beneath the table. Whenever he looks away, you start to notice that it's not at you; Felix seems to hold his attention more than anyone else, but on any other night, that wouldn't really surprise you. You want to ask what's wrong, but by the time you realise something is, you're not sure you're even capable of stringing two coherent words together.

You think back on what he'd said on the way to the pub, his voice small and nervous.

What's next?

You ponder as you leave the pub with several others in the group, thinking hard. Had he meant more than just the immediate? Your next was Saltburn, Oliver's next was... ah. Junkie mum and no dad.

Someone sticks a finger in your ear. Immediately you jump and clutch protectively at your hat -

"Fuck off 'm wizard!"

"I'm seeing if I can feel your thoughts, they look serious," Farleigh, somehow more sober than you, is still cackling. Your drunk mind doesn't like that he's laughing at you, even if it's an objectively funny situation, and you spend the rest of the short walk stomping and pouting, with Farleigh laughing and calling you ridiculous the entire time.

You awaken on the second last day of living on the Oxford University campus for your second year, with an absolutely killer headache. You don't remember getting back into your dorm, but apparently your drunken self was kind enough to steal an entire pitcher from the common area and fill it literally to the brim with water. Far less had spilled on your bed side table than you'd anticipated.

What you do remember, however, is the numerous thoughts you'd had about Oliver. Both last night, and over the past few weeks. As you take some painkillers and drink water out of the pitcher, you gaze across your room to few newspapers you've had sitting under a pile of textbooks since the second week of exams.

It's almost midday. Taking the papers, you pack yourself a bag of whatever you'd need to get ready for the gala on top of your little project, and pull your garment bag from your wardrobe. Swinging past the on-campus café, you pick up arguably too much food for you and Felix to share before the event, then heading to his dorm.

"Get fucked," Felix shouts through the door, muffled probably by his pillow, when you knock.

"Felix, open up!"

"No! What time is it?"

"Midday!"

"Fucking midday?!"

From behind you, one of the doors flies open and one of Felix's scowling dormmates spits for you to shut up or fuck off.

"Grow up or eat shit; it's the afternoon," you flip him off with a scowl. The door slams shut. Immediately you turn and kick Felix's door. When he opens it, he does not look happy. In return, you smile sweetly at him, thanking him with the most saccharine tone you can manage.

"Brought us food," you offer, as if trying to placate him, but instead Felix pointedly falls face first upon his bed, pulling his pillow over his head in defiance. Just glad to be finally let in, you potter around his room quietly, carefully avoiding his boxes of already packed belongings.

Putting all the food on the table, you start on some of it yourself as you keep working almost silently. You hang your garment bag up next to his, put your nice shoes by his door, put all your accessories and other things you needed to get read in their own, distinct pile on his dresser before you settle yourself in his desk chair, pulling out one of the newspapers and carefully going through it.

The Liverpool Echo.

Your eyes flick briefly over the articles, not really paying any of them much real attention, at least not until you got to the obituaries. These you scoured. Names and faces and dates and sweet words about caring, loving people who you neither knew nor cared for. No Quicks. Next paper.

It takes you quite some time; you're thorough and you'd gotten quite a few day's worth from around the time Oliver had found out the news about his father in case it had been reported earlier or perhaps a few days later. Prescot didn't have it's own newspaper, but the lady at the news agency you'd phoned to order them assured you that the Liverpool Echo was received by the people of Prescot too.

"Are you reading the paper?" Felix's voice actually makes you jump, having so engrossed yourself in your reading, forgetting he was still there. Looking at the clock, then at him, you see him still looking groggy, but more bemused than anything. Then, after a beat, he looks to the pile of ones you'd already gone through on the floor by your feet.

"Food's cold," you told him, going back to your reading.

"Why are you reading the paper?" Propping himself up, he begins to stretch and finally, properly wake up for the day.

"Been thinking about Ollie," you tell him with a distracted air, folding up the paper in your hands after a minute more of poring over it, adding it your growing pile despondently. Thankfully, instead of making a snide comment, Felix yawns, asking you what exactly you'd been thinking.

"I know he said he's fine, but his dad still passed," you said softly, gazing at the small stack you're still yet to read, but feeling no urge to pick any more up, "and he hasn't been home, and when he gets home, I don't know..." you sighed, sitting back and looking at the ceiling, a kind of ache in your heart that you hadn't expected, "I wanted to try and find his obituary, to see if anyone said any nice things about him, but I'm not having any luck."

"I don't think he was the kind of man who had obituaries written about him," Felix tells you with a kind of resignation, "but I get that it's one of our last days," he extrapolates, voicing your intentions as easily as if he could read your mind, "and you want to try and give him a nice moment, to show that people care about him, before we, you know, fuck off for a month and a half and leave him."

"Grim, when you put it like that," you hummed, "but yeah, essentially." Felix made a noise of sombre agreement.

Finally, however, he rose from his bed, slowly meandering over to the desk and picking through the food you'd brought. For a long few moments he idly flicks through the few papers you had left on his desk, carelessly shoving each over as he doesn't even open them.

"What about that rock thing my family does?" Mouth half full of a sandwich and leaving the papers alone, his curiosity over them apparently sated, Felix sits himself on the floor by his bed, knees drawn up to his chest as he contemplates, "doesn't have to be all that serious, can be just about saying goodbye and letting go. Closure and shit, you know?" He swallows, looking at you with bright eyes, as if waiting for you to validate his idea, "like we did with my dog when I was a kid."

"That's actually a very sweet idea; I think he'd love that coming from you," you slowly begin to smile as you turn the idea over in your mind. Felix, however, wears a look like he's almost confused, but you can't begin to imagine what until he opens his mouth -

"What do you mean 'coming from me'?" Despite his apparent vague distaste for your wording, you can't help but laugh, rolling your eyes.

"Ollie would love the idea of lighting a bag of shite on fire on his mother's doorstep if the suggestion came from you; I'm saying it's a lovely idea, and he's very fond of you, it'll mean a lot to him."

Quiet filters in with the sunlight. You watch Felix, Felix watches himself pick at his nails.

"Very fond of you too," it's completely and totally neutral. It's also a fucking loaded statement if you've ever heard one come out of Felix's mouth.

"Felix." When he hears the warning notes in your voice, you know he pretends not to.

Reaching over to his bedside table, the unnecessary arc of his arm has him catching the light, muscles lean and taught with his effort to not otherwise move. Heat of the day had already begun to infiltrate the room, but this angle and the light makes the beading sweat along his skin glow; he's always been able to take advantage of a hot day in a way you've never seen of anyone else. Felix, of course, knows exactly what he's doing. Felix learned long ago how to perform at the drop of a hat; no-one was better at objectifying him than he was if he wanted to, "don't do that," you mutter, knowing that even you weren't immune to the way he could manipulate people's eyes upon him.

"What?" It's too innocent to be anywhere near truthful. You see the edge of a smirk before it disappears behind a cigarette and his sudden, aloof façade.

"We haven't talked about what happened," you tried, you really did, "we swept it under the rug for Ollie's sake, and then we had exams, and we -"

Felix lights his lighter, head angled so he can look up at you through his lashes, so his hair falls and curls and turns gold in the flickers of the lighter's faint fire. For another second he holds your gaze, confusing and teasing all in one; like he adores you, but like it's a challenge. Then he moves again, poses again. One leg up, one leg stretched out in front of him, cigarette resting so lazily between the fingers of the hand that he rests on his thigh, plays a staccato beat with his fingers against his bare skin. Nudity was never taboo between you, so why were you losing your train of thought over Felix in his boxers, a sight you'd seen arguably a hundred times before.

Looking anywhere else on him doesn't do you any favours, the beautiful body you've marked and called yours - jealousy, right, that's -

But his head tips back, falling back against his bed as smoke rings rise from his lips and the column of his throat is caught by the light. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, you catch only the briefest flash but he knows you can fill in the rest, knows you see the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

"You know we need to talk, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this."

"Doing what?" He shifts, legs spreading a little wider, and when he looks at you, he's wearing that smile you've seem him turn on countless girls before, teasing, flirting, look in his eyes like he's getting high of of the very idea of you. Lips quirking into a cocky smile, he raises his cigarette to his lips, watching you with an almost lazy kind of arousal. Like every girl he's looked at like this knows they could get him in bed without even trying, without even knowing they were being seduced, "something wrong, love?"

And it's fucking working.

"Fuck, Fi," you have to close your eyes, putting your head in your hands. He laughs and it sounds like fucking syrup, all teasing and warmth, but you can't fucking do this right now; "are you trying to get me in bed just because you don't want to talk about the fact that you were obviously jealous of Oliver?"

This silence is far more bitter, as is Felix's tone when he finally speaks.

"What would I have to be jealous of?" Sounding like a man in denial.

"That Oliver is good to me without needing you as an audience," you push the heels of your palms against your eyes, words and thoughts escaping you that you didn't even realise you had. The next breath you takes shakes. Audibly. Felix clears his throat, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. Now that you've said it out loud, you can feel your face beginning to heat up, tears stinging your tightly closed eyes, the way you begin to tremble.

"I know," you start slowly, carefully thinking about your words this time as you say them, "that you love me, Fi," it's gentle, reassuring, but frustrated nonetheless, face still in your hands. But your breath still shakes as you try and keep it level, "so I think part of you is- is scared that if I find someone who could love me," even the thought of your next words sit bitter and heavy on your tongue, so you have to take a deep breath, try and centre yourself, "without you," you pause, swallowing hard, feeling traitorous tears escaping you, "that I might realise I prefer- prefer that, or something," here is where you start to break, where your voice cracks and you can't keep your hands against your eyes so all you can do is hang your head and hope he doesn't see your tears, "but you've spent all your time assuming, and pouting, and thinking badly of a good friend, and you haven't even asked me!"

Finally, Felix speaks, his voice weak; he sounds moments away from tears.

"I made you cry."

You hadn't even realised how far beyond Oliver this went, how tightly you'd been holding onto this, these thoughts and feelings, keeping them coiled in your chest, until just now. Hearing his words, your crying finally becomes audible, even to you, even if you hadn't meant it to. Today was meant to celebrate, not... this.

"I don't-" he voice catches in his throat, and you hear him sniffle softly, "I don't know if I can ask you that." He admits. Finally, when you look up, you see his expression carefully neutral, looking over his shoulder with both his knees drawn up to his chest. God he can't even look at you.

You know Felix Catton too well; he is terrified.

In the moments that follow, you slowly pull yourself together. You dry your eyes, and nod, while trying to school your expression into something lighter.

"Okay, Fi," you tell him, and try to make sure he knows you're being sincere, "it's, um," you sniffle as you try and smile, "it's a loaded question, I know."

When he bites his bottom lip as subtly as he can manage, you know its to try and keep it from wobbling. There's guilt written all over his face as he watches you move around his room. He doesn't get up, doesn't move, just watches and listens.

"I'm -" you take a deep breath, looking around the room and forcing a smile, "I think I'm going to get ready for tonight with Farleigh, is that alright?"

"Yeah, 'course," he says, as if on autopilot. After a beat, as you collect up your things, Felix finally looks around his room, at the boxes and the things you'd brought with you. Suits, matching and side by side in his closet, bought alongside a third in the set for Farleigh that you know he'd be wearing tonight too. You take it out, lay it over a taped-up box full of his books, ready to go, and finish collecting up your accessories.

"You should talk to Ollie," you tell him, double checking your bag, unsure of how you were managing to act like everything was suddenly okay. Felix nods, watching you once more, gaze a little glassy, far away and looking almost lost, almost guilty again. Part of you is desperate to stay, to comfort him. But as much as he may want it, it's not what he needs in this moment.

"Fi, are you listening to me?" You asked, firmer this time, and he seems to surface from whatever thought's he'd been stuck in, giving you a faraway smile as he nods; it's almost believable, "I know you care about Ollie," you say warmly but firmly, "please talk to him," wetting your lips, you deliberate on your way to the door, picking up your garment bag, "be good to him; Ollie's the only audience that matters there."

"Does this change..." Felix is looking at the floor when you finally make it to his door, "us?"

"Are you still jealous of Ollie?" You try to make it sound joking, since you were pretty sure of the answer, though Felix shakes his head with a frown.

"No, 'course not," he mutters, almost as if to himself, but he doesn't seem to have finished his thoughts on the matter, so you give him a moment; "I've been an asshole, haven't I?" He finally mutters looking out across his room, "a right asshole to someone who's only ever tried to be a bloody good friend to me."

"You kind of have," you agreed easily, and Felix finally looks at you again, the slightest furrow in his brow. There's nothing particularly, prominently beautiful or posed about Felix in this moment; he'd dropped the pretense long ago.

Looking at him now, looking up at you with those helpless eyes, all folded up and far smaller than he usually appeared, all you can remember is the kid afraid of scary movies and his sister's Goosebumps books, who'd stayed up late with you when you'd cried your eyes out in your first year of Secondary school when your parents missed your birthday again, who never let you forget how much he loved you, even for a moment, since you'd met. Your best friend. Always.

"I wish you'd just trust how much I love you too, Fi," voice and expression softening. Slowly, Felix stands, makes his way over to you, wrapping you up in a hug.

"I do, and I will better next time," he mumbles faintly, apologetically, "'m sorry."

There's something melancholy about still parting ways, even after his apology, but both of you seem to know that it's for the best.

Farleigh is glad for your company, and you do a good enough job of appearing alright that he doesn't seem to pick up on the strange mood you can't otherwise shake. Still, you're quiet, Farleigh talking enough for the both of you in between a range of CD mixtapes he'd put together for his own enjoyment.

On your way into the gala itself, you're ahead of Farleigh by a few paces, eager to get in and get yourself a drink, but you brush past Oliver, waiting, looking, as always, out of place. When you tell him he looks lovely, you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, and barely stay, while you hear Farleigh, behind you, taking his time with antagonising your poor friend.

Felix is leaving the event as you're arriving. He almost crashes into you, bottle of champagne clearly stolen from one of the tables, in one hand as he's running from the venue.

"Hey, hi," despite both your best efforts, there is still clearly some discomfort in the air between you. Felix's eyes roam over you, almost out of habit, but there's an appreciative look in his eyes as he meets your gaze once more, "I think, I, uh, I'm going to skip this one and hang out with Ollie," almost like he's trying to invite you. But after everything, this can't be something you do; this isn't your tradition, this isn't your moment to share with Oliver. He'll never get it.

He's Felix Catton; he's the sun.

"He's going to enjoy that so much more than hanging around here," you smile brightly. Felix looks a little surprised, a little put out that you had apparently not picked up on his offer, or that you had and had decided to decline.

"Yeah, I- I thought so," he almost seems a little stunned by how cold this interaction was between you, compared to the usual, boisterous comradery you shared.

"Have a good night, Fi," finally, you kiss his cheek and slip into the entrance hall of the gala building, weaving through beautifully dressed students to find your gaggle of friends for the night. Throughout the night, you get asked where Felix is, and you shrug with a blithe smile every time.

My Felix <3: i invited ollie to spend summer with us

Tomorrow you would be okay.

Tonight, however, you planned to dance with your friends, drink enough that you either stop feeling so weird in your damn brain, or feel perhaps even worse, and probably end up crying.

Tomorrow everything would be okay again.

[morgansmornings]

SLAP + Riley

This Meme: Accepting Anonymous Honorable Mention: @tarnishedhalo, @therealgamble, @tabbyrp

~~~*~~~

It was not a secret that when Jayden and Andy were in the same place, there was only one way for things to end.

In tears.

One way or another it was an inevitable outcome. Sometimes she got a sucker punch joke that had him keeling over and holding his side. Sometimes, deft but strong fingers broke through and attacked the back of her knee. Sometimes it was a straight out roasting session that would end when Brian or Tabby stepped in to separate them. Once it was over literal spilt milk when she was particularly sensitive and had been stress baking for the precinct again.

This time it was all in fun and games when they were once again fighting over ownership of the kitchen and who was better at making Thanksgiving Dinner versus Christmas Dinner. She hadn't meant to. It was a complete accident when he had picked her up to move her from the coffee pot. She had tried going for messing up his hair and accidentally ended up slapping the side of his face with the hand that had the edible glitter in it.

He’d stopped short of even breathing as the sparkling powder settled over him. Jayden on the other hand was at first horrified. Hands clasped over her mouth to muffle the gasp. And it was downhill from there as she folded into a ball on the floor, laughing so hard she could feel the heat in her face from the rushing blood.

No one could say he couldn’t pull off hot pink ever again. All he needed was the black feather boa from the one Halloween costume and his look would be complete.

[grammymk]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Accessories costume dress up play for kids masks boa crown berets leis.

[ariyacl]

As Samira pressed her about the feather boa, Ariya felt a flush creep up her neck. She let out a dramatic groan, rolling her eyes. "Oh god, you're really gonna make me relive this, aren't you?" She took a fortifying sip of her coffee before launching into the story. "Okay, so picture this: It's Halloween, five years ago. I'm fresh out of residency, working insane hours, and desperately in need of a night out. My coworkers drag me to this ridiculous costume party at a bar downtown. The theme? 'Hollywood Glamour meets Medical Mayhem.' Don't ask, it was as weird as it sounds." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Anyway, I show up in scrubs, thinking I'm so clever. But everyone else is decked out in these elaborate costumes. So, in a panic, I run to the nearest party store and grab the first sparkly thing I see—this hideous hot pink feather boa." She let out a chuckle. "I spent the rest of the night prancing around, introducing myself as 'Dr. Fabulous' and leaving a trail of pink feathers everywhere I went. I should have thrown it out, but I’m a busy woman. So it’s still sitting in my closet somewhere.”

“We survived and babe…we’re thriving,” she chuckled as she did the same with her coffee mug and took a sip. She truly believed this though even if they were joking right now. Her twenties were filled with her mostly being angry at the world and at the way Diana had been taken from them and it was only when she conceived her daughter that she found true peace once more. It was almost like a small part of her heart was coming back to her and that’s what allowed her to grow into the woman she was today. “Listen—they’d have to listen, after all—only someone heartless wouldn’t sing along with a Celine Dion song," she grinned before raising a brow at Ariya’s mention of a feather boa. “Oh no no no, you don’t get to just mention it and not expect me to ask questions. Spill Ariya, why did you buy it and why do you still have it? I’m intrigued now.”

[the-salamanders-xo]

Had a dream where I was renting a second apartment which was actually the floorspace of a church. Not like a normal sized church, but a small one. Like three guys in a dorm room size chapel (and there were three of us, one on each side of the aisle and another sleeping in the choir loft), bathrooms which looked like a sims game screenshot with the highest-of-ends wood paneling which had been compressed in MS Paint by a toddler but all the plumbing was the proper size, the stairs went up and down like a stair over a fence but with no need for stairs and in the style of Tudor nobility

Anyway, I had gotten up to explore a bit (and entirely confused as to a) why I was renting a second apartment one's enough for one person, b) both places are so nice, how do I pick between them, the experience of living in a teeny church like it's freshman year again is vs. a whole room to myself and a space entirely up to me and c) why would someone build this kind of place, it's like a midlife crisis project but on steroids, and I walk out of the chapel underneath the stairs (which went up and over the back of the chapel across to the other stairs on the opposite side, but there were doors under the stairs which led to... the other side of the stairs like a capital I and with no real place beside the really small choir loft to get to where Tim was dangling over the bannister). So I go back and am immediately inside of what appears to be a mix between hot topic and the backstage of a theater, pink and white fluffy boas mixed with medieval costume and the occasional goth paraphernalia next to Renassiance and victorian gowns and overcoats, and an immediate transition to a full on home theater where three unfamiliar girls are watching a romcom and crying their eyes out while giving my sister(?) a facemask.

So I, being my entirely unsocial self and not knowing a) who these weird people in my (second apartment) are, are they the next door neighbors the landlord should really warn us a bout this b) why there is a full but mini kitchenette under and around these feather boas and c) ooh, supreme pizza, snag a piece and back my way out of the Theater of The Other Mysterious Tenants. I check out the bathrooms on the way (again, scrunched like MS Paint, normal sized and shaped fixtures) and can only think ooof, someone's been skipping out on the bathroom maintenance, that might be me, before

Waking up to my alarm and spending a full five minutes trying to remember which apartment I woke up in, where my car is parked (in the foyer?? Yay or nay?), and are the other three girls paying their rent until I realized this Was Not the Teeny Church Apartment Universe and I needed to turn off the backup alarm before the Boat Dog annoys my roommates

[vinetae]

Try (M) - Chapter 4:

"Just you and me.."

Pairing: Taehyung x Jimin, Jimin x Reader, Taehyung x reader

Genre: PURE FILTH. unfiltered, SMUT, SMUT AND YOU GUESS IT, MORE SMUT.

Warning: HOLY SHIT SO MANY uhhhh- Gay sex, (m.masturbation), cum swallowing, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Taehyung, Switch!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, protected sex, Anal fingering, SLIGHT chocking, Breath play, Jimin jerks Taehyung off a bit, Blowjobs, DIRTY TALK, JIMIN IS SUCH A FUCKING DOM ISTG- this. is. pure. filth.. shower sex(? if you can even call it that), gay shit TO THE MAX. Jimin literally fucks Taehyung in the ass like-

A/n: Holy shit it's 3am here. Anywho- This is my first gay smut i've ever written. I know! I'm dragging this series out so much, I'M AWARE BUT I'VE GOT WRITER'S SMUT BLOCK A BIT CAUSE IT SOUNDS LIKE AN EXOSITORY ESSAY. I'm tired im sleeping now buhBYEEEE

As always, please enjoy this train wreak.

<- Previous Chapter

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Jimin's tight grasp on your wrist leaves you squirming in place.

"N..no sir-"

His dark chuckles erupt from his chest.

Shit.

You were in trouble..

“Once again” He bends down to meet your blown out iris. A smirk tugs the corner of his lips devilishly. “You’re being naughty. Should Daddy punish his baby for being so disobedient? Hmm?” He straights up, and begans to circle your dischanted form like a predator scoping out its prey.

“Maybe, I should make you watch while I fuck Taehyung-ie.” The thought of watching two men devour each other sends your sense over the edge. Everything is heightened. You felt like a fucking superhero with how sensitive you were. 

“Or maybe bring Jungkook back in here. Tie you up and watch me fuck the hell out of both of them. You’d like that,” His breath dances gently across the shell of your ear. A sound barely audible slips from your grasp, dissipating into the air.

“Wouldn’t you dirty,” With each word, you find yourself effortlessly being inched further back into the unknown.

“Dirty,”

“Girl.”

Your back hits the dewy marble walls of the shower, one hand coming up to wrap around your delicate throat.

“When I ask a question, baby,” His grip tightens, locking in place as your airway constrict like a boa. Not enough to ever hurt, just enough to make his power known. He lets go slightly, allowing you to give the answer he’s been patiently waiting for. You wantonly answer, still shocked by the amount of dominance radiating from this man you call your cute little boyfriend. 

“Y-yes please daddy, fuck him, please! I wanna watch so badly!” You’re practically on your knees. The shower having been cut off long ago.

So much for cleaning up. You thought. 

A dark chuckle rolls off his tongue, letting your body fully go, watching as it partly slides down the damp walls.

“Good. Now stand there like a good girl and watch.” His hot breath brushes your ear once again, threat even worse than before. 

“If I even see you trying to touch yourself again, I won’t let you cum for another month.” This time, your audible gasp is very recognized. He smirks, taking his time making his way over to Taehyung who’s still kneeling down, waiting for a command. 

“Well, you heard the woman, Taehyung-ie.” He nods standing, as Jimin grabs the belt part of his costume, pulling Taehyung over to lean against the countertop. The foggy sheet of white blocks Tae’s view of himself. 

He’s about to be fucked by a man.

And he’s turned on by it..

Jimin rips the rest of Taehyung’s costume forcefully down, throwing them God knows where. Reaching forward, Jimin gives the younger man a bit of mercy by moving his hand repeatedly on Taehyung’s pink tip, just for a little more lubrication. 

“You ready, baby?” Jimin’s soft words are all the encouragement Taehyung needs to nod back, letting him know that he’ll take almost anything Jimin throws his way. 

“Good boy.” His hand trails down Taehyung’s muscle crowded back, sliding his finger right down the crack of his ass, timidly toying with his rim. 

“F-fuck..” Taehyung curses, this new sensation bringing all kinds of questions to his mind. But, as soon as they had been put, they’re long forgotten when Jimin takes a little bit of his own pre-cum, dousing his middle finger before inserting it almost expertly-like in his ass. A gasp ghosts from Taehyung's body.

“F-fuck Jimin I-” He’s cut off the elder wrapping his hand around Taehyung’s cock, s ueezing the tip letting him know who’s still incharge here. 

“What was that?” Pressure increasing the longer Tae waits to answer. 

“F-fuck Daddy-” Taehyung’s knuckles turn white from the grip he has so tightly against you bathroom counter’s edge. 

“That’s what I thought.” He adds two more fingers, as taehyung silently cries out from the stretch. 

“F-fucking! Oh- Shit!” Jimin’s thrusts pick up pace once he feels like Tae’s adjusted to the new sensation. 

“G-girls are s-so l-l..LuckEY-” His moans fall upon deaf ears, before Jimin finally pulls all his digits out, leaving the young man gasping for air. His face, red and splotchy from the burning going on everywhere in his body. 

“Look at you.” Jimin coos, reaching over to grab a condom out of his costume’s back pocket, motioning you as well. 

“Be a good girl, now.” You nod, wasting no time in helping him slide the thin latex around his reddening cock, securing it smoothly before backing away to let the show continue. 

“Look at our Taehyung-ie. Think he was all high and mighty back there” Jimin’s hips slowly push against Taehyung’s as his face contorts to an expression you didn’t even know existed. 

“All those times you made fun of my small dick, huh? Not so small now, is it, big boy?” Jimin teases, his thrusts quickly speeding up as Taehyung has to brace himself against the countertop for support. A hard slap to his juicy ass, and skin clapping is all that fills the room. The constant squelching sounds make it sound so…

Dirty. 

“Hey hyung I forgot to ask if- WHAT THE FUCK-” Jungkook bursts in, immidiently regretting having walked in on such a scene, even though he’d been doing not the most holy motions either just a few hours ago. 

“S-sorry- I- Uh-” Before he can quickly turn and leave, Jimin’s deep growl sits him in place. 

“Stay.” He growls while his thrusts into Taehyung’s abused hole is all anyone is focused on. 

“Wish this was you, huh Kookie? Or, are you that much of a slut that you love watching your boyfriend getting absolutely obliterated?” You’d never see a side of Jimin likes this. Had this man taken viagra pills before coming here?!?

“N..no” Jungkook sheepishly replies, scared to do anything else in fear of his hyung’s wrath. Okay, maybe not wrath, but power? Abso-fucking-lutely. 

Taehyung wantonly moans against his own bicep, biting down on the reddened skin, hands turning blood-shot red from such force pounding into him. 

“You okay, baby? Come on, use your safe word” Jimin teases, two more painful-looking ass slaps are applied to Tae’s bottom. he whines, not sure if he likes this or despises it. To say the least, it was defiantly new. Jimin's thrust never once miss a single beat, bringing the poor boy over into a whole (heh) new dimension. Taehyung's forced to straighten up, back pressed against Jimin's controlled hip rolls. The shell of his ear, slightly nibbled on by the elder.

"Remember who's really in charge here, boy." He releases Tae's tight grip on his scalp, making him fling forward from such force.

“Get over here, Kook.” Jimin demands, the younger quickly makes his way over, before Jimin slows his motions, bringing Jungkook down on his knees infront of Taehyung’s throbbing cock. 

“Suck.” He picks up his original pace, the power of his thrusts make Taehyung’s cock forecefully dick down his lover. 

This wasn’t even Fifty shades of grey filthy. 

This was mother fucking shit filthy. If these were any other people, you’d all be disgusted by such filth. 

We’re all going to hell, anyways. 

Jungkook, on the floor being forced his lover’s cock down his throat, Taehyung painfully being the middle man, while Jimin fucks his ass like you’ve never seen someone fuck before. 

“D-daddy I- Please!” Taehyung practically screams, not being able to handle this much pleasure. 

“Do it. Cum in Jungkookie's mouth like the dirty little whore you are. What a bitch, not even being grateful for being fucked. Maybe I should just leave you here, hmm? You and your bratty mouth...God, your teasing.. I dreamed of this moment every single day.” Jimin tsks, seeming as if he isn’t even bothered by all of this. 

With every thrust, sending his words deeper into Taehyung's fucked out state.

"Waiting."

"Watching."

"Until I could teach you the lesson you so desperately begged for."

"Knowing when to shut the fuck up and take it like a man."

Holy shit, Taehyung's looking like a fucking tomato from Jimin's dirty talk. wait..

Has he fucked men before?!?!

“n-No! I- very grateful!! S-so greatfU- AHH” His last cries let everyone and their mothers (your poor neighbors) know that this Pornhub scene is finally over. Jimin allows Taehyung to lean his body against his own, knowing that he wouldn't be able to support himself for quite a while from now.

“Good, good boy. You did so well, Taehyung-ie. Such a good boy for me, hmm~” Tae’s panting overrides Jimin’s soft words of encouragement. He bends down, petting Jungkook’s head as well. 

“Swallow.” He immediately obeys, swallowing every last drop of his lover’s hot seed. His lips, swollen. Corners of his mouth tug into a slight curve.

Who knew Jungkook had a praise kink...

‘Good boy. Koo~” Jungkook leans into Jimin’s hand, loving the attention and softness he'd well deserved.

“You both did so well. Jungkookie, one last thing-” He stands up, waiting for command. 

“Take Tae back to the room to let him rest. Give him lots of water, too” Jungkook nods, helping Taehyung stand to walk out of the bathroom, leaving just you and Jimin’s (apparently still not exhausted) figure once again. 

“Hello, darling~” He coos, wrapping his limbs around your own shaking body. 

“W..what the- h..h..h.ow the fu-” 

“Shhhh~” He presses a finger to your mouth, shutting you up quickly. 

“This time,” He reaches over, still not letting your figure go while turning the shower knob on to let it heat up. 

“It’s just you and me~”

Next Chapter ->

Comments and requests always appriciated!

©2022. All rights reserved. No translations, reposting, or alterations of any kind to my work without my permission.

[moonbeambucky]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Lance Tucker

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 1078 Warnings: fluff

Summary: There are no tricks, just treats this year as the Tucker’s celebrate Theo’s first Halloween.

A/N: Thank you to my pizza love @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️

Time moves in the blink of an eye. Today you and Lance were celebrating Ariel’s third birthday when it seemed like just yesterday she was born. And Theodore? He’s ten months old today but when you open your eyes he’ll be graduating high school, or at least that’s how it felt.

Theo was smiling in your mother’s arms, proudly showing off all four of his teeth. The two on the top had come in last month and though his smile evened out it was hard getting used to. You and Lance were so excited when his first two teeth came in, two tiny white protrusions that stuck out from the bottom in the center of his gums. From that day on Theo got his nickname, Pumpkin and every morning he would greet you with a big pumpkin grin that stretched your own smile out from ear to ear.

With Theo in your arms now you posed for pictures with Lance and Ariel beside her sparkling unicorn cake. “Happy Birthday” was sung, she blew out her candles and Lance began to slice away at the beautifully decorated cake.

You sat down with Theo, whose eyes grew in size as Lance set out a slice in front of you.

“D’you want some cake, my little Pumpkin?” you asked Theo, pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheek as he eagerly opened his mouth.

You asked Lance to grab one of Theo’s spoons but he was a little preoccupied, sharing a bite with Ariel and letting her plop some purple frosting on the tip of his nose. Before you could get up your father had heard your request, grabbing the silicone spoon from the drawer so you could safely let Theo take a bite.

He opened his mouth eagerly awaiting the spoon and the moment the sugary frosting touched his tongue Theo smiled, giggling as he squirmed in your lap wanting more. A few more tiny bites was all you allowed him for now wanting to save the real fun for his first birthday party where Theo can dive right into a cake of his own.

Ariel got a few unicorn themed presents this year as you told friends and family it was currently her thing so it came as no surprise with Halloween approaching that she wanted to go as one.

Her costume was mostly homemade since the only costume you actually found was a thick fleece onesie that was way too hot for Florida. It may be the end of October but the weather was far from the many Halloween’s you’ve spent in New York. With some simple clothes, colorful felt and a lot of hot glue you made her an easy unicorn costume that really popped when she wore her rainbow tutu. A golden horn headband with a glittery mane was the final touch on Ariel’s costume.

“Y/N, you guys ready?” Lance asked from downstairs as he helped Ariel put on her favorite sneakers, the one with iridescent sequins that especially matched her outfit today.

Calling out from Theo’s room you said you would be down in a second as a last minute diaper change had delayed you.

“Look at how cute you are,” you cooed, giving Theo a big kiss as you held him in your arms.

Turning his head towards the stairs Lance heard you coming and his eyes lit up as big as his smile when he saw Theo’s costume. Over a green shirt and pants Theo wore an orange pumpkin romper with a happy grin that mirrored his own semi-toothless one.

“Thee-door’s a pumpkin!” Ariel pointed, jumping in place.

Lance’s jaw dropped open with a smile. He walked closer to meet you and Theo at the bottom of the stairs, marveling at his Pumpkin’s pumpkin costume, with a matching hat that had a small stem and vine coming out from the very top.

“He’s too cute,” Lance said to you, pecking your lips with a sweet kiss before he turned his attention to Theo. “Isn’t that right? You’re such a cute little pumpkin,” he said, tickling Theo and making him giggle.

Before you could go trick or treating you absolutely needed to take pictures of the kids, internally squealing at how cute they looked, not only in costume but together, with Ariel’s arm around Theo as they sat on the couch.

By the time you were done Ariel was even more anxious to get moving and she grabbed her pink pumpkin pail, bouncing on her heels as she waited by the door. Lance helped you secure Theo in his stroller, touching his pockets for his phone and keys.

“Take my hand Starfish,” he said, holding it out his hand to Ariel.

“No!” Her quick and distressing reply made you lift your head up with concern. “We can’t go, Daddy no wearing costume. And Mommy too!”

Lance smiled, bending down to Ariel’s eye level. “Aww Starfish, this day is for you and your brother.”

She pouted, crossing her arms insisting you both had to wear something. “Mommy help!” she said, giving Lance her treat pail as she took your hand, dragging you up the stairs into her room.

You hadn’t thought about getting costumes for yourself or Lance but clearly that was a mistake. Maybe next year Ariel can help pick things out but for now she was insistent that you wear anything. She rummaged through her dress up clothes, which you hope she realized had no chance of fitting you.

Thankfully Ariel went with accessories, placing a crown on your head and giving you sparkly butterfly wings to wear. “Mommy you’re a butterfly princess.”

“Oh thank you Ariel!” you said, fixing that straps that went around your arms. You held the things she pulled out for Lance, smirking as you made your way downstairs with her.

Lance smiled as he saw you, his smile becoming nervous as he saw what was in your arms combined with Ariel’s determined look. You knelt beside Theo, playing with him as Ariel dressed up her dad, wrapping a hot pink boa around his neck and giving him not only a princess crown of his own but a light up wand.

You took your own phone out to take pictures of Lance, by himself and with Ariel and finally you were on your way, trick or treating with your handsome husband as the most beautiful princess you’ve ever seen, Ariel the cutest sparkly unicorn and Theodore, your adorable pumpkin.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Freddie’s 40th birthday; Freddie Mercury x reader

*Author’s note*

In honor of the legend’s 74th birthday, as apart of my Rock Angel series, I have written up this little filler chapter centered around Freddie’s birthday. It’s unbelievable that had he lived today, we would’ve been celebrating his 74th bday. But as it is said in the Sandlot ‘Heroes get remembered, but legends never die’. Happy birthday Freddie Mercury, wherever you are, know that you are loved and are continued to be loved by generations of people that are just getting to know you or people that have followed/known you when you were alive.

Enjoy my lovelies and until the next update :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@klausidiot​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@naturalswifty89​

@starswin​

@dj-lowkey​

@isabella-bby​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

____________________________________________________________

*Sept. 7th, 1986*

I was looking myself over in the mirror seeing how my cowgirl hat looked.  It wasn’t anything fancy just a simple leather khaki hat that belonged to mum who gave it to me just for this party.  I brushed the ends of my hair before Jack came in wearing his Indiana Jones hat.

“Look at you my little cowgirl.”

“Now don’t you dare say something naughty or else you’re going to get it.” Jack faked a gasp.

“How dare you suggest I’d say such a thing.”

“Please Jack. You may look all sweet and innocent but even you can go Freddie Mercury dirty. Or worse Deacy leveled of rottenness.”

“Never did I think he could think such thoughts.”

“You do realize that his first song Misfire was all about pre-ejaculation right?”

“Okay subject change please!” I shoved him and said.

“You started it.”

“Nu-uh!”

“Oh shut it you. Now remind me again why you didn’t want to wear a cowboy hat?”

“You know what those hats do to me. Plus….” He stroked the rim of his Indie hat, “this makes me look cooler.” His brow quirked as he smirked in the mirror trying to be sexy (which he was but I’ll never admit that out loud).

“But then we could’ve been a matching set at the party. Fred would’ve been all gushed up about it.”

“You know this day is about him right?”

“Correction two days ago was all about him. This is his birthday party. Thankfully it won’t be as crazy as last years. Yeesh. I still don’t remember how Roger and I ended up in that closet together.”

“Let alone with your shirt over his face.”

“Oh god yeah that—most awkward thing ever. But I think I recall saying something like ‘it’s too hot in this hellhole for me!’ Or some random thing like that. At least that’s what Deacy said he heard. God we had sooo much tequila that night. Never again.”  He chuckled and wrapped his arm around me and pecked my cheek.

“Yeah cause I wouldn’t want to think that my wife was screwing around with her father figure.”

“EWW! Now that is something I know that not even drunk me would do. Why put that image into my brain oh god JACK!!!” he laughed as I began hitting his arm.  

“Ow! Okay! Okay I’m sorry!”

“You better be. Now what time is it?”

“6:40.”

“Shit we better get going!” I grabbed his hand and we took off out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

In the living room our sitter Derek aka ‘Dancing man’ Anderson, who was also one of my roadies on tour, was already feeding our daughter.

“Okay Derek, we’re heading out. Again thank you soo much for volunteering to babysit for me. Normally I wouldn’t ask you to do this much…….”

“Relax (Y/n). I’ve had 3 kids so I know how this works. Thankfully I was in the neighborhood. Plus I get the chance to see the kid before the rest of the roadies do.” I shook my head at him.

Derek had been one of my first roadies ever since I became the Rock Angel.  He was about the same age as Roger was and if I’m being honest, he’s kinda like Roger in a way.  In fact if I remember correctly it was Roger’s roadie Crystal that recommended Derek to me.  He’s great with electronics and lighting and he’s basically the ringleader since he’s the only one of my original team that has stuck with me for the past five years.

“Okay so her bottles are in the fridge and I’ve laid out instructions on how to warm them up. Her bedtime is in two hours, and her favorite story is ‘Oh the places you’ll go’. And ohh I know I’m forgetting something.”

“Angel, relax. I’ve got this. Jack gave me the full rundown about an hour ago while you were deciding on your hat. Give my birthday regards to Fred.”

“We will. Thanks again Derek.” Jack said as the two of them shook hands with each other.

“No prob, you two kids have fun. And don’t worry mini Angel will be safe and sound.”

“Alright, bye baby girl. Mummy loves you.” I leaned down and pecked my daughter’s cheek repeatedly then Jack came down and kissed the top of her head which was starting to sprout my hair color and told her.

���Daddy loves you too sweetheart.” Jack and I picked up our gifts for Freddie and we walked out the door and headed to the car.

To my surprise Jack actually offered to drive to Freddie’s place at Garden Lodge.  I looked at him surprised and switched seats with him and I must admit I’m surprised that he’s managed to get driving in England down.

“Wow Jack I must say, you’ve really adapted to our way of driving, haven’t yah?”

“Well seeing you guys drive all the time kinda helped me out a bit more. Plus those old driving lessons from Deacy also helped as well.”

“So I got to ask. American style of driving or UK style of driving.”

“Oh American hands down. I still fear that I’m gonna ram into someone driving on this side of the road.”

“Guess we both feel that way. When your cousin Jensen gave me my first car driving lessons, I was terrified beyond belief. Not only was it something totally different, but also just driving on the side of the road that I’ve never driven on. But you’re doing good baby. I’m proud of you.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and he said.

“Hey now, no need to get frisky. I’m the one behind the wheel here.”

“You are just full of snappy comebacks today aren’t yah?” he grinned at me and continued to drive on.

After a while we finally arrived at Freddie’s place just ten minutes past 7.  Jack parked the car just a few yards away from the entrance of Garden Lodge and the two of us walked hand in hand towards the entrance.  I pressed the buzzer at the gate and that’s when Jim’s voice came on the intercom and he said.

‘Hello?’

“Hey Jim it’s Jack and (Y/n). We made it.”

‘Ahh the Kline couple, come right on in.’ the gate let out a buzz and Jack opened the door and tipped his hat just like Indiana Jones as he did his best Harrison Ford impression.

“My lady.”

“Why thank you Dr. Jones.” I said in my best Southern accent before walking right on in and he followed behind me.

We walked across the front garden and I couldn’t help but admire the flowers that grew down the runway towards the house.  We walked up the steps and Jack knocked on the door and soon answering the door wearing a pink boa with an angel halo on top of his head was the Queen himself, Freddie Mercury.

“Well about fucking time you two got here. I was beginning to think you both skipped out on me.”

“Please Fred. If we wanted to, you’d never let us hear the end of it.” I teased him.  He chuckled and smiled that wide smile of his before extending his arms out and the two of us hugged and kissed each other.

“And Jack. Handsome and dashing as ever.” Freddie praised.

“Thanks Fred.” Jack blushed.

“And a couple’s costume at that. I swear I think you two will upstage me. And I’m supposed to be the birthday boy here.”

“Oh well Fred actually we’re not doing a couple’s costume. At least not anymore we aren’t.”

“Oh well then Jack what kind of hat is this supposed to be?” Fred said as he stroked the rim of Jack’s Indiana Jones hat.

“Wow and I thought you would’ve at least seen at least one of the films. This is an Dr. Indiana Jones hat.”

“A doctor you say, well what the fuck kind of doctor wears that kind of hat?”

“He’s also an archeologist that goes on adventures Fred.” I explained to him.  Freddie ahhed in understandment.

“Okay now I see. Well besides all that, come on in my darlings the party’s just beginning.” Fred opened the front door wider and allowed Jack and I to enter inside.

And amazingly while there were a lot of people there, it wasn’t as full crazed as his birthday party last year.  It was mellow, quieter, people making small talk amongst friends.  It was a nice change for once (especially after the after party for the Magic tour).

The party went on and as Fred and I stood side by side of each other looking out at the other party guests I turned to him and said.

“You know I’m really surprised Fred. You really mellowed out.”

“Well darling the older you get, the less of a party animal you become. Even the champ must lose at one point.”

“All these metaphors and old saying you’ve been saying throughout this past year, I swear Fred you should be a philosopher.”

“As great as some of their sayings are, they’d be boring to meet in real life. And dear I refuse to be boring.” He playfully dipped my hat forward covering my eyes.  I groaned and playfully shoved him as I readjusted my hat.

That’s when I noticed a band on his right ring finger.

I took his hand and held it and looked up at him and asked him intrigued.

“And just what is this Fred?”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know.” Fred teased me.

“C’mon Fred. You know as well as I that this ring isn’t like any of the old concert rings you used to wear ten years ago. So out with it.” Fred looked around before clasping my hand with his and he dragged me off upstairs where we would have some privacy.

We made it to his master suite and there I saw Delilah and Goliath both sunning themselves on the bed.

“It’s from Jim.” Freddie spoke softly as he stared down at th ring lovingly. “He gave it to my just before everyone got here. A sorta—one year anniversary present. I would wear it on my left hand if I could but—you know how people are these days when it comes to relationships. Especially with mine.”

I walked up to him and cupped his face between my hands.  He and I stared at each other and I said to him.

“I’m happy for you Fred. Truly I am. And hell if it were up to me, I’d have you and Jim married tonight if you both wanted to.”

“I know you would darling.” He very gingerly pinched my cheek.

“And……people can be bastards. They think that sexual relationships have to be in a straight fashion. Even Johanna and Graham thought that way. Any trace of homosexuality, they’d treat them as if they were scum of the scum. They’d even tried to brainwash me into believing it as well. But thankfully I have more common sense than them or anyone else that thinks that way. Love is Love. As long as two people are happy and in love with each other, so long as they are of legal age, then it doesn’t matter.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“A lioness with a heart of gold. Your parents would be proud of you darling.” He said as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Who knows maybe one day the world can change and have people of the same sex get married. And when that day comes, I’ll be right there at your side as your Maid of honor.” Freddie softly smiled and said.

“I’ll let you plan the whole thing out if you want.”

“Good cause you know I’ve got some suggestions.”

“You did learn from the best.”

“Also I’m gonna tell you what you once told me when Jack and I first became a couple. If he breaks your heart, or makes you cry like that last bastard of a man you had, I’ll pop him off his arse till he’s in a coma.”

We both softly laughed and pecked each other’s cheeks before embracing each other tightly.  “Never change my darling Rock Angel.”

“Never Freddie. So long as you never change either.”

“With you by my side, I doubt I ever will.” We both softly laughed.

“C’mon. I’m betting everyone’s wondering where the birthday boy is at.” We took each other’s hands once more and walked out of his master suite and headed back downstairs.

Everyone gathered in the back garden as Jim, Terry and Phoebe pulled out the cake (which was sculpted into the shape of an orange, black and white patterned cat standing on a podium with its paw up in the air).

Once the sparkling candles were lit, we all sang Happy birthday to Freddie.  Freddie stood by his cake smiling and gushing about till the end of the song before finally blowing out his candles.

“I better not expect a girl wearing a cat costume to pop out and ruin this cake!” we all laughed and that’s when Jim came up to him and delicately cut the bottom part of the cake.  As Jack and I sat together I couldn’t take my eyes off of Freddie.

He was just radiating this pure energy as he chatted away with Phoebe, Jim and his other friends that he knew outside of Queen. He truly was a ray of sunshine who made everyone laugh and smile, and I am so glad that he got out of Prenter’s grasp when he did cause this this was the Freddie I knew and loved.

“He seems happier with Jim.” Jack said to me as he ate a piece of his cake.

“He does. He finally found himself a little niche in life. And I’m happy for him.”

“So they’re really together, aren’t they?” Jack asked me. Of course there wasn’t any hatred or disgust as my husband spoke those words, he genuinely wanted to know whether or not Freddie and Jim were seriously an item or not.

“They are. And I can see that it’s real love between those two. I hope they stay together for a long, long time. They’re good for each other.”

“I’ll admit it, even though I’ve never really seen a gay romance for myself. I think they really do love each other.”

“It’s just like us. Like Deacy and Ronnie, like any other straight marriage or relationship. It doesn’t matter the gender of the person so long as two people love each other and care about one another. Love is Love.”

“I can get behind that.” Jack said as he nuzzled his face into my neck making me giggle softly.

It was about an hour after sunset when the party finally came to a close.  Everyone bid their goodbyes to Freddie and when I had invited Fred and Jim to come and have tea tomorrow, that’s when I found out that they would actually be leaving for Japan tomorrow afternoon.

“Oh wow Japan. You two going on your honeymoon?” I playfully nudged Fred.

“It’s not so much a honeymoon dear. Just a way for Jim and I to get to know each other a little more without all the press and cameras stalking us.”

“Understood. Those blood-sucking leeches.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbled.

“Well I hope you both have a safe trip and enjoy yourselves.”

“We will darling. And I’ll be sure to pick something up for the mini-angel’s birthday in a couple months. As well as a souvenir gift.”

“You know she’s still a baby right?”

“So what? Just because she’s a baby doesn’t mean I have to stop spoiling her.” I rolled my eyes and embraced Freddie and he hugged me back.

“You’re gonna drive me to early grey hair Mercury.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous darling.” He said in a posh tone. “As I’ve always said you’re gonna be an ageless beauty. It’s me and the other guys that’ll age like milk.” I slapped his arm then we kissed each other goodbye then Jack and I took our leave.

When we arrived back home, we came in to see Derek sitting on the couch watching the news.

“How was the party?” he asked us.

“Mellow but fun. How was our girl?” Jack said.

“Barely gave me any trouble, unlike my own daughter when she was that age. The only fuss she made was when I had to change her nappie before bed.”

“She’s done that with us too. Mum hopes she’ll grow out of it soon.” I said as I walked up to him.

‘Growing cases of the AIDS and HIV virus continues to climb. So far in England alone more than 1000 confirmed deaths have occurred due to the virus…..’ I shut the TV off and muttered angrily.

“I hate the news. They never have anything positive to say. All it is is just death, gang bangs, cults, economy crashes, war, or this new virus that’s been coming up.”

“Don’t let it affect you too much Angel, you don’t need to have all that negativity floating in your head. Well I best be off.”

“Thanks again Derek, I’ll send you your payment in the morning.” I told him.

“No need. This one’s on the house. Have a good night Angel, Jack.”

“Night Derek. Drive safely.” Jack told him as Derek grabbed his coat and keys then left the house.

Jack and I changed out of our party clothes and got into our pajamas and cuddled close together.

“G’night Jack.” I yawned.

“G’night my love. Sweet dreams.” Jack whispered.  He kissed my forehead as the two of us fell asleep cuddled under the sheets.

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Feather Boas and Hors’ D’oeuvres

A/N: This is part two of my Halloween themed fics for @badsext. It’s the Robbie x reader one! Upon writing this author’s note (I write them before I start writing the story), I have 12 works in progress, counting this one. I have no idea why in the name of the lord I have decided to do this shit, but I love writing, and love writing for other people. Here in this household, we support all bodies. All bodies are beautiful, and you better be loving yourselves beech. I hope this ends out well.

Warnings: food, bad words, mention of insecurities, self hatred (but it’s recovered, don't worry luvs x)

“Robbie, I am NOT wearing that outside. Where the hell am I meant to go wearing that, love?” you ask, looking at the outfit he prepped for me with hesitance.

“You’ll be fine dear, just don’t turn too much or y’know. Everything’ll spill out.” he says, turning me in different directions.

“Yeah, yeah. I might have to deconstruct it, and add more fabric, Robbie, this is a LOT.” you say, poking and prodding at yourself, trying to suck the infamous tummy ™ in.

“Ahh, stop that now. That squish is perfectly fine, and your organs have to go somewhere. You’re fine just the way you are. No need to suck that in, nobody needs that much breath control. Not even a strong swimmer, love. Unsuck that belly, and let’s get on with all this, okay?” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your head.

  You take the costume off, careful not to rip any of it, and put it back, waiting for Robbie to open the door, as he does. You put on your regular clothes, and decide to snoop around a bit, and look at the more absurd options in the Costume Shop. Some of this shit just does not make sense, please, society, change, and for the better this time. You do not want to wear a bathing suit outside, in 60 degree weather, just so you can say “I went Trick or Treating”. Not doing it, sorry. Those thoughts ran through your head as you went through the store, letting out a chuckle at the thought of breathing in nothing but rubber for an extended amount of time.

“Have you been having fun, going around, no worries.” Robbie asked, sneaking up from behind you, his cold arms creating goosebumps along your flesh.

“I’ve been talking to myself about just how not okay some of these costumes are.” you said, mentioning the puzzle pieces.

“That’s my problem with these things. What happened to the days where everyone went outside naked, and thought nothing of it.” Robbie asked, catching himself as he saw neon pink feathers.

“Periods exist, and it’s just too damn cold for me to go outside like that, you know that.” I say, following his eyes and sensing the chaos about to ensue.

“What about this huh?” Rob said, wrapping a painful neon pink boa around his neck.

  You shook your head at his antics, and he chased you around the store with the wretched thing, trying to capture you with it. Along the way, he collected many more items, including fake blood, vampire teeth, copious amounts of candy, and a tiny top hat, colored yellow. It had sparkles all on it, and he put it on top of his head. In his arms, a couple things began to topple over, but he ran to the front register, and quickly placed it down before he had to pay for it, plus extra.

“All this please, along with this costume, and one of your “Pretty Princess” balloons in the back there please.” he said, glitter getting in his eyes. The cashier rolled their eyes, and scanned all of the items, and almost forgot the top hat on Robbie’s head, which he bent over for them to scan.

  As soon as all of the items were scanned and paid for (and when Robbie got his balloon), the two of you got in the car, and headed back to the house, to decorate it accordingly. The car ride was quite short, but boy did it feel long. Robbie was stretched out in the back with his balloon, and you drove through the traffic, tapping your hands on the steering wheel when a certain beat hit.

Boys and girls of every age, wouldn’t you like to see something strange

Close your eyes and you will see, this our town of Halloween

“Yes, ohmygod ohmygod, THIS IS MY SONG!” you said, damn near breaking the dial to scream along to the song. Yes, you were getting weird looks from the families in their own cars, but you were feeling it.

 Robbie laughed from the back, and twisted around, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek, joining you in the chaos that is yelling song lyrics in a car. You moved along in your seat, and admittedly ran 2 red lights, dodging potholes and cracks in the road. As the song ended, the glitter from Robbie’s hat had come off somewhat, and in almost every available place, there was yellow glitter. You laughed, and knocked some of it off of the radio dial, and put your attention fully on the road, instead of purposefully missing notes just to spite yourself. A couple minutes after the song ended, you arrived at your shared home, and emptied the car of costumes, decor, and of course, the balloon, which was starting to get more and more absurd. 

“Where are we going to put half of these things?’ you ask, roaming around the house, trying to come up with a spot for your Halloween themed objects to go.

“Some of them could go outside, not much out there. The little cobwebs can go in the corners, not to be confused with the real cobwebs. The candles can go in here, Mr. Skelly can go on the mantle. We’ll figure everything else out. Oh, and the costumes go in the closet, that’s simple enough.” he says, setting Mr. Skelly in his rightful place. 

   You went down all the halls, pinning the fake cobwebs in the corners, avoiding the fake spiders. You even sprinkled some remaining glitter on the tables, trying not to breathe too much in. The fake blood was put into the bathroom, for special effects just in case you decided to be an oldie but goldie vampire. Robbie was busy getting the candles together, and he eventually got his balloon out of the car, where it had deflated some. It was put in the kitchen, along with your numerous house plants, also away from the infamous pink butter knife. He started on dinner, which was a soup of sorts, and he made the both of you a cup of coffee, pumpkin spice sadly excluded.

  Soon enough, the sun was setting, and the two of you began lighting candles, and putting the warm soup into bowls, and getting washed up before putting your costumes on. You sipped on it, and turns out it was tomato soup, with grilled cheese sandwiches because originality in cooking is always welcome, but sometimes simple does it. The two of you ate in semi-silence, music playing from the record player in the living room.

“Can you taste the red food dye this time?” Robbie asked, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

“No, not this time, at least it doesn’t make me feel like I’m a hot air balloon. Too much red food dye is lethal to anyone living, I don’t care who the fuck you are, it’s not like I’m immune to things that taste like shit.” you say, biting into the sandwich. 

“True, true, I hope it isn’t that bad, I mean, I can poison you if you’d like, just take a bite out of that candle, it’ll take you right out of here.” he says, pointing towards the lit candle in the corner of the room, which flickered due to the air in the room.

 You chuckled at the thought, and from there on, you two ate in complete silence, until you finished, and Robbie offered to wash the dishes, and you took him up on it, heading back upstairs to freshen up and get ready to go trick-or-treating that night. As you were putting your costume on, certain places weren’t the same size that they were, and a couple tears ran down your face, and onto the fabric. You knew why you were frustrated, and you knew it was a really bad excuse to be crying, but the sobs only got heavier and heavier, until you were on the floor, clutching the carpet in your hands, trying to calm back down. You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t even hear Robbie’s bare feet padding in the halls, and him stopping when he found you on the ground, in your costume.

  He didn’t say anything, only holding you as you cried, running his fingers over your hair, comforting you. You finally calmed down, and were reduced to sniffles. That’s also when you began to talk.

“Why do I have to be like this?” you asked him, seemingly, hands clutching his tank top.

“Everyone has insecurities. Society makes us, especially women feel like they have to look a certain way, act a certain way. You’re perfectly fine the way you are. You also just ate tomato soup and a sandwich, your belly is going to be a little bigger. That’s simply how humans are made, you can’t avoid it. You’re not ugly or gross for being human. Or for having a couple rolls, or stretch marks. They’re beautiful. You know I always love to see them. Doesn’t make you any less attractive.” he says, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

“Yeah, but why do I have to feel bad about it if it doesn’t matter.” you reply, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I told you, it’s society’s fault for doing that shite to you. It’s not your fault in the least. You’ve been taught to believe all of that. You’re not in the wrong here. You are beautiful, and nobody can take that away from you.” he says, tilting you to the side, looking you in the eyes.

  The two of you had a moment where there was almost silence, the only thing making noise were the kids outside, already in their costumes, cutely saying trick-or-treat. Your sniffles had subsided, and now your eyes were returning to their normal off-white color. Robbie put his fingers under your chin, and leaned towards you, kissing your lips full on. His hand slipped to the small of your back, holding you up. The two of you sat there, quiet in the gathering moonlight, still on the floor enjoying the company.

“You wanna get out of here, so I can get in my costume, and we can get gobsmacked with sweets?” Robbie asked, rubbing knuckles against yours.

“Sure, fuck it.” you say, smiling, grabbing his hand, and heading to the bathroom to get that fake blood, and put it to good use. 

  Robbie went into the bathroom after you, and soon enough, he came out, and that corset was hugging him in all of the right places. You grabbed your pumpkin basket, made of plants, and headed outside, elbows interlocked with Rob’s. The two of you headed to each house in the area, going “trick or treat” to each adult at the door, even getting giggles from little children. It began to rain, and the two of you ran into each puddle on purpose, getting completely soaked in the process. When you two got home, you rid yourselves of the homemade candy, cleaned it all off, and ate some of it. Just as it was reaching the early morning hours, the two of you went to sleep on the couch, snickers bar wrappers surrounding you.

Masterlist

[kunderdogs]

Take A Chance VIII Finale

Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Y/N (Reader) Genre: Romance / Angst Count: I didn’t count lol sorry  Warnings: None Rating: Mature (suggestive, swearing) Summary: Who would’ve thought a one night stand with Simon D would turn into FWB? It only gets more complicated when you developed feelings, against your better judgement.

Sorry for the late update! I lent my laptop to my friend and I didn’t get it back until after 3PM! ^-^’ anyway, I hope you like the finale! I’ll be posting a epilogue next week but that’ll be the end! This is shorter than I wanted but I’ve been in stump for a few weeks...

Finally after years, this has come to an end...I was going to add more drama and twist and turns but my life is about to get crazy with my job so I thought it’s best to end it here before I’m too busy to update :(

Chapter One. | Chapter Two. | Chapter Three. | Chapter Four. | Chapter Five. | Chapter Six. | Chapter Seven. | Chapter Eight (Finale). | Epilogue

“Kiseok...we can’t...we can’t be together.”

The way Kiseok sat up straighter, brows frowning and eyes narrowed on you told you that he was in defensive mode now.

“You don’t feel the same,” he concluded, jumping to the wrong assumptions.

You felt your eyes widen to almost impossible degrees at that point. That was so far off, it was ridiculous. “No! I-...I do. I like you too.”

“Just not in the way I feel about you, huh?” With that, he stood and made a beeline for your front door.

Without thinking, you jumped up and caught his wrist to stop him. Panic rose in your chest as you saw how defeated his eyes were as they stared at you. In the back of your mind, you knew now was the time to come clean about your feelings. It wasn’t a good time to hide and cower.

Whatever happened after this was meant to be. You took a breath and Kiseok waited with his eyes trained on your face.

“I’ve liked you for months.” You confessed, and it felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders.

“I tried my best to keep my feelings hidden but it was so hard. When you would listen to me, or send me cute messages like ask me how my day was going...I-I don’t even know when it happened, but it just did and I was content having you just as a friends with benefits but then...”

With your head tilted down, you missed the passing emotions that crossed Kiseok’s face. Right now, you didn’t have the courage to peer at him anyway. It was hard enough talking about your feelings, but to do it with the person causing you so much heartache was a new level of vulnerability.

Sensing that you needed some comfort, a hand came to your jaw and softly caressed the skin before tilted upwards. You hadn’t realized there were tears in your eyes until you saw Kiseok’s face soften at you. He raised his eyebrow, as if asking you to continue.

You took a breath, hating the way your voice shook, “Then I saw you at the restaurant with that girl and I just felt like my heart had broke, like I just missed my chance. I should’ve told you my feelings earlier, but I’m so scared.”

He heard your whisper, even if it was hardly detectable. You weren’t surprised. Kiseok always listened to you, no matter what. “What are you scared of, angel?”

His use of the nickname calmed you a bit. Both of your hands came up to his chest and slowly curled into fists of his sweater. With his hand still tilting your jaw up, the other found it’s place rubbing comforting circles on the curve of your back.

“I’m scared of it all - Falling and having no one to grab me. What if we get together and it doesn’t work out? What if you meet my daughter and then we-we break up? I’ve never been with anyone since she was born - what if she likes you and it doesn’t work out between us? I don’t want to bring a man into the dynamic and confuse her if this isn’t...isn’t a long-term commitment for you. Plus you’re a celebrity. That’s a new set of challenges in itself.”

“We can make it work, angel.” He finally understood. His eyes searched yours and was going to say something but you had more to get off your chest. “I can work around my schedule.”

Your grip on his sweater got tighter as you tried to articulate everything on your mind. “I can’t have someone who isn’t serious. It’s not just me. It’ll never be just me. I come with a child, and an ex who is very involved with my daughter. You’ll have to accept that all. I need someone whose ready for that, not just a fuck buddy.”

You pulled away from him gently and he let you before examining your expression again, “Why are you assuming I just want a fuck buddy?”

“You haven’t exactly implied you wanted more,” you stated, wiping the tears that leaked from your eyes.

Those dark eyes of his hardened slightly. “You think I’m going to just bounce if shit gets too hard? I’m not that kind of man.”

You shook your head, arms wrapping around yourself. “It’s not that. I mean- I can’t have someone around if they won’t be here for the long haul.”

“And you don’t think I will.”

“I don’t know if you will!” You huffed, irritated that he wasn’t seeing where you were coming from. “I don’t know. And that’s why I’m scared. What if we get into a relationship and it doesn’t work out? I’ll have to explain to Cookie and what if she takes a liking to you? Then it’ll be another father figure who she won’t see! She barely sees her father as it is! I don’t want to hurt her like that! I don’t want to be hurt like that too...”

“Can’t you just take a chance on me?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in those sharp features. “Because I’m selfish. I want all of you.”

You stopped venting, “What?”

Kiseok took a step towards you cautiously, large hands out to grasp the swell of your hips. Your body relaxed against his automatically, like you were meant to be in his arms forever. “Take a chance on me, ___. Give me a chance to prove to you that I want you - all of you. The goofy side, the business woman, the horrible baker that you are, the woman you came to be, the mother that you are - I want it all. That includes your daughter too.”

You were crying at this point, thankfully it was silent as you watched in amazement as Kiseok poured his heart out for you. “Those things made you into the woman you are and I want everything that comes with you. All the baggage and emotional trauma. All the ex’s and all the kids you have.”

Finally, he got you to crack a smile and giggle at that. Resting your head on his chest, you felt him wrap one arm around your waist and the other loop around your neck to snuggle you into his body more. “I only have one daughter.”

“Even if you had four, I would still want you.”

Securing your arms around him, you sighed deeply. Without much difficulty, he guided you to the couch and sat with you on his lap. Resting your nose in his neck, you wondered what the next step would be.

Kiseok didn’t give you long to think it over when he pulled back, dark eyes searching your face. “So. Are you free tonight? I want to take you out - on a real date. Dinner if you want.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading like wildfire on your lips. “Okay, I’d love that.”

He pulled you back, lips lightly grazing yours in a soft kiss, “Good, because I have a lot of making up to do.”

Seven months later, you sat on your couch, head thrown back in laughter as you watch Kiseok walk into the living room, decked out in a fluffy pink boa necklace and a matching tiara while Cookie pranced behind him in her Princess Tiana costume.

“Kiki, you have to go down the runway first!” Cookie whined when your boyfriend remained motionless in the door way.

His glare held heat to it as he stared at your laughing figure. With a sassy flip, he tossed the end of the boa necklace over his shoulder. “I would’ve preferred the purple but the show must go on, darling.”

With a hand on his hip to exaggerate his “model walk”, Kiseok strut down the runway that was behind the couch. He spun on his heels at the end, posing a few times before wrapping the fluffy accessory around your neck. Another imaginary hair flip later, the rapper was seated next to you, making sure to slide the tiara onto your head.

He smiled when he noticed the tears in your eyes from laughing so hard but didn’t comment. Cookie completely crushed her walk, with you and Kiseok clapping enthusiastically as she flipped her curls over her shoulder to give the audience a fierce pose.

“That’s my baby! A true model! ___-ah, let’s put her in some modeling classes!” Kiseok exclaimed before swooping down to wrap Cookie in a tight hug.

She giggled when he nuzzled his face on her cheek but didn’t push him away. From your position on the couch, you watched with a smile on your face and a light heart.

You didn’t know it months ago, but Kiseok was great with Cookie, kids in general actually. Seeing them bond and play together was probably the most fullfilling thing you’ve got to witness. You were too caught up in watching them with hearts in your eyes, that you missed how they whispered to themselves, sneaking glances at you.

By the time you did notice, Kiseok had a shit-eating grin on his face, while he adjusted Cookie on his hip. “I think it’s mommy’s turn to be Sven.”

Without further ado, you promptly jumped over the couch and booked it, the two loves of your life hot on your heels to force you into a reindeer onesie.

[merryfortune]

A bit late but I would owe you my entire life if you felt like writing a small Bede x Gloria fic, just anything about these two adorable dorks, thank you in advance

i hope you enjoy :3c

(swsh only) requests: still open

   Bede was the sort of person who was constantly vigilant. Growing up impoverished had left him with some dour traits, including the need to sleep with one eye open and with his peripheries just as important as his general sight. So, when Gloria had decided to pop in for a surprise visit, she was surprised to discover that he was holed up and engrossed in the costume box which the Ballonlea Theatre had.

   He was all but tipping over as he searched through the box, only to scurry through something else, such as the many, many clothes hangers hung up around and beside him. Honestly, it felt very claustrophobic back here, as compared to other parts of the building which were quite ventilated or, at the very least, not so busy with things because there were things everywhere. Gloria couldn’t even name half of them and make this nor that from even more of it. It was truly a treasure trove which was seventy years in the making; possibly even more so since a lot of it looked positively ancient yet diligently well kept.

   Bede popped up again and Gloria smiled to herself. He was nattering away to himself over something. His words too far under his breath for Gloria to glean the meaning of. She crept closer still. As she did so, he noticed how noise was so sponged in here; not a creak of wood could be heard underfoot, only how Bede pointlessly rummaged through all these clothes and boxes.

   A Meowth like smile graced Gloria’s face. This was a rare moment. Bede was hard-working but he was hardly ever so thoroughly distracted. She couldn’t help herself. The joke was being begged to be made and so, Gloria couldn’t resist.

   She continued to carefully edge in closer on Bede. He looked so cute from behind; the knot on his lower back, slightly askew, his fluffy hair, the pastel colour of his clothes. From the bottom of the top, he exuded what could only be described as ‘adorableness’ despite having a decidedly unadorable personality but, Gloria supposed, that gap was what made him adorable.

   With a shaking hand, Gloria reached out and her fingertips grazed the slinky material the Gym Leader (and Gym Challenger) uniform was made of. It was silky without being silk and, in doing so, she yanked the tails of the knot free. 

   Bede rocketed up, screaming bloody murder, and his hands flailed about. Gloria, laughed, as she made some room for them both as Bede continued to make some very big and very frightened movements. He whipped around, his sharp eyes angry and accusatory.

   “What the heck do you want, Gloria?!” he said.

   “I wanted to check up on you, see how you were hanging on. I hear Opal’s dropping by less and less so I figured it was my turn to come and give you some unsolicited advice. Champion’s addition.” Gloria teased.

   Bede huffed and he stared. The shirt that he wore was now a dress and Gloria realised the reason that it was so long, was not out of personal preference as with that atrocious magenta jacket that he loved to wear off duty but because it was a hand-me-down from Opal. Gloria could smell it on him. That musty, homey, grandmotherly smell which was calming and endearing. It weirdly suited him and Gloria kind of liked it. Though, now that she thought about, eyes catching on how the material near his ankles swished, the whole backroom of costumes had that kind of smell.

   “I don’t want it.” Bede said.

   “Ooh, confident, are we?” Gloria continued to tease.

   “I am, actually.” Bede said, crossing. “Rightly so, for once. It’s not coming from a place of arrogance. I’ve grown a lot these past few months, becoming Gym Leader has done wonders for him, similar to how becoming Champion has done wonders for you.”

   Gloria smiled. Being acknowledged as Champion was honestly a touch bit terrifying but it was grounding to hear it coming from Bede.

   “Now, if you don’t mind, I was busy. So why don’t you run along and go bother someone else?” Bede told her.

   “Maybe…” Gloria murmured as she inched in closer. “Allow me to fix your dress into a shirt again, first. It’s the least I can do after scaring you like I did.”

   Bede growled but he allowed it. He turned around and Gloria got down on her knees. She bunched up the material and brought it up, with herself, back to full height. She found where Bede normally kept the knot, somewhere around his waist, kind of near his posterior and Gloria divvied up the material between her two hands and went through the little, cutesy instructions involving Bunnelby ears.

   “So, um, what are you doing back here, anyway?” Gloria asked as she tied the knot.

   “I think you can answer that question yourself. This shirt’s too long but I like to pay homage to Lady Opal. After the treatment I got from Chairman Rose, she feels more like family than I ever could have dreamed up in connection to him. But it also feels very plain. I feel like everyone dresses up their uniform, one way or another. I think it would make me look more… Leaderly, if I did the same.” Bede rambled.

   Gloria thought about Milo’s broad, straw hat and the feather boa Opal went around in. Bede had a point.

   “I dunno. I think this is more than enough for you.” Gloria mumbled.

   Bede stiffened and Gloria’s eyes perked up. He thrashed himself free of her hands. She withdrew them and felt awkward. Her eyes slowly lifted up from his feet, only to widen upon noticing how scantly pink his cheeks were. Gloria’s heart wavered but in a strangely lovely way.

   “Thank you, Gloria. Looks like your unsolicited advice might be useful, after all. I think I’m just overcomplicating things. I should just keep it plain and simple, like Nessa, for example, yeah?” Bede said.

   “Yeah.” Gloria agreed. “You’re cute, no matter what you do.”

   Bede’s cheeks darkened in colour. “I am not cute.” Bede said and he marched past Gloria. “A-And I’m not blushing either, it’s just very hot in here.”

   Gloria giggled to herself. “Whatever you say, Gym Leader Bede.” 

   She followed after him as he continued to try and shrug off Gloria but she knew deep down. He liked to be praised, no matter what form it took, and, maybe, if she was lucky, he liked her (like liked her) too.

[broadwaybaggins]

Sure, the costume had been made for someone nearly a foot shorter and substantially wide-- she could make it work. First line fanfic

Behold, the summer camp AU that literally no one asked for (seriously, no one asked for this.)

Sure, the costume had been made for someone nearly a foot shorter and substantially wide-- she could make it work.

Emma took a step back and shook out the costume in her hands, releasing a cloud of dust that danced in the sunbeams. She was up in the attic of one of the barns that the camp used primarily for storage, searching through moldering boxes of costume and dress-up clothes. It wasn’t even mid-morning, but already the heat and humidity were thick enough for Emma to wish that she’d taken a leaf out of her sister’s book and begged to be assigned to lifeguard duty instead of the mishmash of theatre/arts and crafts that she had gotten stuck with. At least Alice got to lounge around by the pool or the lake every day instead of being stuck up here, sifting through relics of camp pageants past and sweating like a sinner in church.

It was only the third official day of camp. The showcase wasn’t even until Fourth of July weekend, but Anne had sent Emma up here to “see what they had to work with”, and as Anne was technically her superior this summer, Emma wasn’t about to argue. Her family might own the camp, but that didn’t make her immune to getting into trouble...and Anne certainly had a talent for getting others into hot water.

Emma shifted so she was sitting criss-cross applesauce, as her littlest campers called it, on the grimy floor. Already streaks of dust and dirt marred her cutoff shorts, and sweat was dripping down her back and dampening her camp shirt. She pulled another box toward her and opened it up, but this one only revealed some old Americana sheet music and some truly ancient craft supplies, including a Ziploc baggie of pipe cleaners that may, at one time, had been bright fuchsia but had faded to a sad shade of baby pink, all tangled in a knotty, gluey, glitter-filled clump. The former she set aside--you never know when something like that could come in handy--and the latter she put firmly in the garbage pile. At this point, she was going to throw out more stuff than she actually uncovered.

Even though it was hotter than blazes, Emma reached up and yanked the hair tie out of her ponytail, letting her dark hair fall in waves around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it a couple times, ignoring the cloud of heat that it raised around her, as if she were sitting in an oven. She went to pile it up on the top of her head in a messy bun (much cooler, temperature-wise, than a pony even if only incrementally) when she heard a creak from the ladder leading up to the attic. “Hello?” she called, getting ready to untangle her legs and stand up. The last thing she needed was for one of her kiddos to figure out that there was a ladder that they could climb with no supervision. She could already envision the paperwork.

But instead of one of the kids in her group, the head that appeared in the trapdoor entrance was that of a dark-haired young man who Emma recognized from orientation. The last few days, beginning with orientation weekend before being tossed headfirst into the deep end of campers and schedules and mercifully, no rainy days yet, had been such a blur that Emma was still getting acquainted with everyone on staff. She thought for a second, remembering dinner on Sunday night before the first session day campers arrive the next morning, vaguely recalling seeing this man sitting next to Samuel around the fire. They had been laughing at something, and then Sam had brought out his guitar...

Emma watched his eyes scan the attic for a moment curiously before landing on her. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was up here.”

“Just me,” Emma said with a smile, watching as he climbed the rest of the ladder and gently hoisted himself through the trapdoor. His camp shirt was black--Emma didn’t know how he was handling that in this heat--and he wore tan cargo shorts and sensible running shoes which crunched the grit under his feet as he walked over to her. “Raiding the costume stash looking for anything we can use for the Fourth of July extravaganza.”

“Already?” he asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Be prepared or die trying. The unofficial Anne Hastings motto.”

That got a laugh out of him. “She does seem a little...intense.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Emma wiped her dusty hands on her shorts and stood up as gracefully as she could manage. She hoped she didn’t have any dirt or dust on her butt, then wondered why she cared--hopefully he wouldn’t be looking at her butt anyway, right? added a voice in her head that sounded an awful lot like Mary. 

“I’m sure we’ve been introduced, but you’ll have to forgive me--it’s been pretty much a whirlwind since day one. I’m Emma, Emma Green.”

She held out a hand and he shook it, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Green? As in James and Jane Green, directors and general head honchos? Green as in...Camp Green Wood?”

Her face flushed. “Yeah. Those Greens. Sorry about the name. Great-great-Granddaddy thought he was clever.”

Another laugh. Emma was two for two. “I think it’s funny. I’m Henry Hopkins.”

“Oh!” That did spark a bit of recognition. “The...chaplain, right?”

“Student chaplain, at least for now,” he corrected gently. “But not so much while I’m here. Unless it’s really needed, I guess. Instead, you can catch me attempting to supervise fifteen fourth grade boys through the different activity groups.”

“Oh, a true counselor,” Emma said knowingly. “Good luck with that. They showed y’all where they keep the coffee, right?”

“Oh yes. It hasn’t been too bad so far, although there was one incident yesterday with some ghost stories that upset some of the boys. Something about Civil War phantoms?”

“Oh yeah, there’s lots of stories about that. Some small battles took place on this land. The hotel my family owns used to be a hospital during the Civil War, actually, so if anything is bound to be haunted, my money’s on that.” She trailed off, aware that she was rambling on about things that he probably didn’t even care about. He was studying to be a preacher, right? He probably didn’t even believe in ghosts.

He looked interested, though. His eyes were very, very blue. “That’s amazing,” he said. “The hotel, I mean. The history there.”

“Yeah. I mean, when you’ve grown up around it, literally, it kind of stops being interesting. But I’d be happy to give you a lesson. A history lesson, I mean. I’d be happy to tell you about the history. Only, be prepared for like a super SparkNotes version.” She glanced around the mess of boxes at their feet. “Speaking of history, I actually was sent up here to see what of this mess can be salvaged for the Fourth of July show, which Anne has somehow gotten into her head is going to be a musical journey through American history, so if we get a call from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s lawyers, we know who to blame.”

“Sounds ambitious.”

“Particularly considering the kiddos are supposed to have a hand in writing the show, and we haven’t started, so I don’t even really know what I’m looking for.”

“Can I help?” Henry asked, sounding eager. “I mean, technically I was sent up here to look for some extra canoe paddles, but I’m not seeing any, and this seems a far more worthy cause. Besides, I’m doing a history minor. I could be your historical consultant.”

“I think in the theatre world, they might call that a dramaturg.”

“Even better. Now I have a cool title.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to laugh. “Well, if it won’t get you in trouble, I sure could use the help. Or at least some company.”

Henry made a little face and reached for the nearest box, dragging it across the grit to him. “Byron’s in charge of the boys for the next hour at least. Hopefully they won’t eat him alive before then. I’m all yours until they need me to report for duty again.” He tugged on one of the corners of the box, tearing the cardboard slightly as it opened. An assortment of feather boas in various colors tumbled out, and he looked up at Emma triumphantly. “Something that you might be able to use?”

“Oh, jackpot. Having you around is already starting to pay off.”

Maybe, Emma thought, it wouldn’t be such a terrible summer after all.

[grammymk]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Accessories costume dress up play for kids masks boa crown berets leis.

[beowulf22121]

I used to do some mideval combat. After, we'd go to whatever fast food place and hang out. We would all be half in costume. Whatever wasn't bulky, we'd wear. Leather armor, patchwork clothing, ect.

One day, this dude walks up looking like Elton John. Sparkly boots, hot pink pants, LED belt buckle, mustard yellow shirt, clearly plastic tophat covered in superglue and rhinestones, feather boa, toy parrot glued to his shoulder, beyond large sunglasses.

And he asks us, "What're you wierdos dressed up for?"

Every one of us had the same reaction. "This guy may noy be as physical, but is clearly a friend."

Coolest non-fighter I ever met while I was in fighting gear. We must have talked to him for a good half hour before he excused himself.

The hard truth about autism acceptance that a lot of people don't want to hear is that autism acceptance also inherently requires acceptance of people who are just weird.

And yes, I mean Those TM people. Middle schoolers who growl and bark and naruto run in the halls. Thirtysomethings who live with their parents. Furries. Fourteen-year-olds who identify as stargender and use neopronouns. Picky eaters. Adults in fandoms. People who talk weird. People who dress weird.

Because autistic people shouldn't have to disclose a medical diagnosis to you to avoid being mocked and ostracized for stuff that, at absolute worst, is annoying. Ruthlessly deriding people for this stuff then tacking on a "oh, but it's okay if they're autistic" does absolutely nothing to help autistic people! Especially when undiagnosed autistic people exist.

Like it or not, if you want to be an ally to autistic people, you're going to have to take the L and leave eccentric, weird people alone. Even if you don't know them to be autistic. You shouldn't be looking for Acceptable Reasons to be mean to people in the first place. Being respectful should be the default.

[seventyfiveapples]

Noise Complaint

Bright / Nick Jakoby x reader / one-shot

Just a fun, light-hearted one-shot I wanted to write to take a break from my longer multi-chapter fic. This probably sets some kind of record for “most references to penises in a non-smut fic.”

Summary: Officer Nick Jakoby responds to a noise complaint and faces a rather awkward case of mistaken identity. Shenanigans ensue...

Bachelorette parties were really not your scene. But when your best friend asked you to be her maid of honor, you knew you wanted to  give her the best damned party ever.

As you trolled the aisles at the party supply store, filling your cart with anything hot pink, zebra striped, and/or dick-shaped, you realized that bachelorette parties were no one's scene. No one wants to bake a cake in a penis-shaped cake pan and then serve that cake to their friends. No one.

She imagined using this cake pan for any other event: ”Did you try the cinnamon apple dick cake? The balls are pumpkin spice!” 

Why did they even make a cake pan in this shape? This wasn’t the Great American Baking Show, you thought, tossing it in your cart. This was Sparta.

You thought of your best friend and reminded yourself: this was all for her, in honor of her upcoming wedding. The thought made you look a bit more fondly at the tiara in your hands, admiring how the rhinestone-bejeweled penises across the crown caught the light. 

It was all hideous, you thought, and she would love every bit.

 The night of the party was here. After a round of penis Jell-O shots and a rousing game of “Never have I ever,” all the guests were well into their cups. Several women had been singing loudly on the backyard patio and everyone was having a good time.

Only the grand finale awaited. You took a sip of your “penis colada” and took another look out of the window, waiting for the entertainment to arrive.

That same evening, Officers Ward and Jakoby were the closest when the call came in for a 415 - a Noise Complaint - so they headed to respond. After a short drive, they pulled up to a small house in a quiet neighborhood. There were a few balloons out front: it must be a oarty if some kind. Just before they parked, Daryl got a call from home. His daughter Sophia was sick and he’d been waiting for an update.

"Damn it - Can you get this one? I’ve got to take this,” he asked.

Jakoby agreed, heading alone to deliver what he hoped would just be a stern warning.

 Ding Dong! 

The entire party screeched excitedly at the doorbell.

”Who can this be?!” Asked the bachelorette in feigned surprise, as you went to open the door.

"Why, I just can't imagine!" you responded, matching her tone. You opened the door and... damn! You had requested a police officer stripper, but you didn't expect such realism. This guy was obviously ripped. Sending an orc was an interesting touch, you thought. You knew that Samantha, the bachelorette, would be totally into this guy.

"Ma'am," he began in a stern voice that was so deep it seemed to vibrate through your chest. "We've received a noise complaint for this address. Are you the homeowner?"

"Ooh, you're good. Really selling it. She's going to love you!" You whispered, grabbed his hand and leading him into the house despite his stuttered protests.

"Oh, Samantha - I think you're about to be in some trouble!" You told her as the rest of the guests let out a chorus of "Wooo!"

"Um, Ma'am, are you the homeowner? I'm afraid we've received a noise complaint. You all are going to have to keep it down,” he told the group. Samantha was eating it up.

"Oh no! What if we don't? Will you have to cuff me?" She delivered the question in a killer flirty tone, but the orc just seemed confused.

You wondered if he was new. Didn’t they usually bring music or something?

"Um, that’s probably not going to be nec-“

He stopped mid-sentence, interrupted as a hot pink penis-shaped balloon bounced off of his head.

“TAKE IT OFF!” Someone yelled at him, sending the group into another fit of laughter and “Woo!”

 The officer blinked rapidly and - was he blushing?

A few dollar bills landed at his feet.

Nick had no blessed idea what was happening. 

The more firm his tone, the louder and more boisterous the group became, yet they didn’t not seem to be defiant, exactly. It was more like they expected him to do something... and he wasn’t quite sure what.

Scanning the decorations in the room, he decided he’d accidentally stumbled into some sort of human female fertility ritual. 

Another guest draped a sort of long scarf around his shoulders. It was covered in fluorescent pink feathers and glittering plastic pieces shaped like male genitalia. Was this part of the ritual? He didn’t know everything about human customs and didn’t want to offend.

He turned to her with a serious look and said, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Ohh shit, you thought, as the walkie-talkie on his belt let out a staticky sound. You noticed that his boots were heavy-duty work boots, and scuffed. His strapping, muscular physique was too good to be true: this guy was not a stripper. He was a real-deal police officer.

And her friends were throwing dollar bills at him.

Could they be arrested for sexually harassing an officer of law, you wondered?

As the host and the only (mostly) sober person in attendance, you knew you had to do something.

Ding dong! 

Saved by the bell. This time it really WAS the stripper. You noticed his shiny tear away costume - with shorts - and his (hopefully) professional name of “Officer Long N. Strong.”

Looking at them side by side was a trip. The orc Officer - Jakoby, according to his uniform - seemed further confused by this new guest.

”I understand we have some NAUGHTY LADIES at this location!” “Officer Strong” called out, eliciting the loudest "Woooo!" yet.

The guests barely noticed the switch as you walked Jakoby to the door, stepping outside with him on the front porch to apologize. Suddenly his face grew concerned.

”You ladies know that’s not a real police officer, right?”

Oh, this poor, sweet man.

“Yes, we know... Officer, I’m so, so sorry- we thought you were... someone else.”

“To be honest, I’m not quite sure what I walked in on, but I really do need to make sure you understand about that noise complaint. If we have to come back again," he added, casting a wary look towards the house, "it will mean a citation."

You doubted that any force on this earth could make him walk back into this house, but you nodded to make clear that you understood his warning.

”Of course, Officer. I’ll make sure everyone stays inside from now on. Thank you for being so patient. Listen,” you started, “I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable in there.”

The officer smiled and shook his head. “Not at all ma’am. I wish your friend luck with... whatever she’s preparing for. Just luck in general, I suppose.”

He really had no idea what the party was. You were unable to stifle a smile as you looked in his golden eyes. God, he was handsome. You let your eye contact linger for another second and felt your face flush. In a moment of bravery, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper.

Nick climbed back into the police car in a daze. Ward kind of snort-laughed and shook his head as his partner took his place in the driver’s seat.

”Nice boa, Nick. Really goes well with the badge and gun.”

Nick had forgotten he was still wearing the feather boa covered in glittery plastic dicks. He removed the boa as he responded, folding it and placing it carefully on the seat as if it were a totem of powerful magic.

”Ward, do human women use magic? I think they may have been casting a love spell or fertility rite of some kind in there.” Ward cracked up at this.

“Shit, Nick. At least tell me they tipped well!”

He would ask his partner for an explanation later. For now he felt a little giddy as he thought of... you. He reached into his pocket and unfolded the paper you’d given him, reading it again. On it was your number, and a message:

Call me, cutie! -Y/N