#ollie makes a fool of himself

[odie-mel]

Imagine that Dipper manages to time travel back to the era where Ford and McGucket are still in full swing of their investigations of Gravity Falls.

Like maybe a time historian and a time agent are sent to document the happenings of Weirdmageddon (a la the same time agency as Blending) and after the historian is documenting things one of them drops a time measuring tape - whatever. However you need to make the time travel aspect work.

Maybe Dipper, as an adult down the road, is house-sitting the Mystery Shack for Soos and while he's looking after things he finds the time tape measure in the shack. He pulls out the tape of the measure without really thinking and then when he really looks at it, he realizes what it is and it startles him enough that he drops it. When it falls, the tape goes back into the tape measure, triggering the time travel mechanism, but because it was dropped it doesn't travel back in time with Dipper. Again, whatever makes this a feasible storyline.

Dipper ends up working with Ford and McGucket while they help him figure out how to get home (he showed up in the Mystery Shack, before their very eyes, and now they're fascinated to study him as another Gravity Falls anomaly).

The amount of awkwardness he would be made to endure. Not just the nerdy, subtle (as a hammer, but they're both dense idiots) flirting betwixt McGucket and his own uncle but also the horrible Trainwreck that would have been the early Ford/Bill partnership. Poor Dipper would end up as an impromptu relationship counselor in a mad attempt to prevent Bill from manipulating Ford, and maybe change the events that led to his uncle disappearing into a portal realm for decades. Someone please save Dipper from the awkward situationship that is Fiddauthor, and the weird triangle demon that wants his Uncle carnally.

Subplot where Dipper stashes notes all over the shack for Mabel to find when she inevitably notices he's missing and she finds the time tape measure on the floor where Dipper dropped it. The twins found most of these notes the first time they ever came to Gravity Falls, and she would remember them because they were so weird - they were signed Dipper, how was that possible when they'd never been here before?, etc... Of course Dipper also wrote a note, maybe even more than one, detailing the exact time he'd been sent back to, but of course those particular notes were all impossible to find because they were all destroyed in the most narratively frustrating ways possible.

(Cue flashbacks where Stan finds one and promptly disregards it as more Ford weirdness and tosses it without a second thought, where Soos vacuums one up without noticing while cleaning around the shack one day to be extra noticably helpful to Stan, and another where Dipper & Mabel accidentally destroy one during one of their wild summer adventures, etc...)

I'm very tired, so this is half baked and not very well thought out. Please enjoy. Interact, even. Love you all, and see you tomorrow morning friends.

[cieloclercs]

grace , send me a trope + a character and i’ll write a short drabble from it

hii, can i please request best friends to lovers with ollie?

congrats on 1k btwww 🫶🫶

call me cupid — ollie bearman

pairing. ollie bearman x best friend!reader

word count. 2.7k (i swear i tried to make it short lmao)

warnings. kind of a weird fusion of fluff and angst ??? unrequited love vibes (that’s not actually unrequited but u get what i mean), pining ollie, pining reader, arthur lowkey is the mastermind, and is also sick of said pining, abrupt ending i’m sorry 😭

author’s note. hello anon! thank you so much for your request ☺️ i hope this is ok ! i know it cuts off quite abruptly, but i’d be open to writing a part 2 with the confession if you want one <3

read below the cut

He’s staring again.

It’s becoming a problem, but can anyone really blame him? You look nothing short of angelic under the strobe lights, your shimmering dress catching his eye every time you move. You’re dancing with a girl he doesn’t recognise, that beautiful smile he adores stretched across your crimson-painted lips. It makes him wonder what she’s saying to you to make you seem so content.

Best friends shouldn’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you now. Ollie knows that. Yet on days like today, he really can’t help it. This is your party, celebrating your third Formula 2 victory in a row. He’d watched from way back in P5 as you stormed through the field, fighting off every challenge your opponents tried to throw your way. There’s a reason the fans call you the Queen of Formula 2, after all. You’re practically untouchable. All it does is heighten his awareness of his own pounding heart whenever you’re around; turn his insides to velvet when you so much as smile his way. Yes, it’s becoming a problem — and Ollie isn’t sure there’s anything he can do to stop it.

“You know, I’ve just thought of something you should try.” A voice speaks up to his left, breaking him out of whatever trance you’ve unwittingly put him under. He turns. Arthur Leclerc stands like the devil on his shoulder, arms folded, expression unimpressed. When Ollie says nothing, he goes on, “It’s called talking to her. Works wonders, really, I’d highly recommend. It’s how I met Carla.”

The younger of the two rolls his eyes. Arthur is the only other living soul on earth who knows about his infatuation with you — officially, at least. In reality, almost everyone in the Ferrari Academy has long since figured it out. Everyone except you, ironically. But Ollie supposes it makes sense; why would someone like you ever even consider him as something more than just a friend?

“Can we not do this tonight?” Ollie sighs, exasperated, “I’m just trying to forget about…all of that for a moment.”

This time it’s Arthur who rolls his eyes. Ever since he first caught on to his friend’s crush on you a little over eight months ago, he’s been trying every method under the sun to try and make him see that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic about his chances. But the answer is always the same. Ollie remains convinced, like some poor, naïve, completely oblivious child, that you’d never so much as give him a second glance if he told you how he felt. It’s complete bullshit, of course. Arthur has seen the way your eyes search immediately for his after a race, be it a good result or even a bad one. He’s watched you brush off close friends (including him, many a time) even family members, to get to Ollie. But of course, Ollie himself doesn’t notice. No fool in love ever does.

“You’re not going to forget though, are you?” Arthur muses, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye, “I know you, and I know you can’t stay away from her for that long. You’ll cave eventually.” he smirks. At the sight of Ollie’s pink cheeks, he knows he’s caught him out.

“Why don’t you go annoy someone else for a change?” the Brit grumbles. There’s the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Arthur could pick it out even in the pitch dark.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.” he teases.

Within moments he’s cowered behind Carla on the other side of the room, chased away by Ollie’s (half joking) threats to crash him out of the next race on purpose if he doesn’t shut his mouth. But Arthur’s words stick with him throughout the entire night. Somehow, they always do.

In truth, Ollie's been grappling with the idea of telling you for quite a while; to put him out of his own misery more than anything else. He's sick and tired of the 'best friends' label. It seems so trivial, so reductive to say that it hurts him, when in fact, every time you refer to him as such, he’s sure you must be ripping his heart out of his chest. But then he can’t help but feel melodramatic — at least he has you, even if only as a friend. Even if you don’t love him in the way he loves you, you’re still there. Close, though perhaps not quite close enough. Ollie has decided not to take that for granted. He knows how easily it can be snatched away from him.

In the end (just as he always seems to be) Arthur is right — it’s not even an hour before he finds himself gravitating towards you; unwittingly being pulled into your orbit from which he fears, if he’s not careful, he’ll never be able to escape. You’re hovering on the edge of a group of engineers now, sipping on a glass of sparkling water out of a straw. How you can appear drop dead gorgeous yet so damn adorable at the same time, he has no idea. Ollie feels he’ll be spending the rest of his life trying to figure you and your many layers out.

“Hi, Ol.” you greet him with a smile like the sun when he finally plucks up the courage to approach. He mutters something in reply, though as soon as the words have left his mouth he’s already forgotten them — he could have said something completely unintelligible for all he knows. That’s the effect you have on him.

“Having fun?” you prompt again, your soft smile spreading into a full-blown grin. Ollie glances briefly around the room. It’s absolutely packed full of Ferrari Academy members, both drivers and personnel. Normally, this kind of event would be his worst nightmare. Even if he’s known these people for years, the idea of having to socialise and look like he’s having fun makes him feel sick. But then he remembers all this is for you. It’s to celebrate your achievements in a male dominated field, which no woman has ever managed to do before. When he reminds himself of that, all his anxiety suddenly seems to melt away.

“Of course.” Ollie grins back. His heart soars to see you light up at his words, to see you giggle behind the rim of your glass and look at him as if he’s the only person in the world. At times like this he can truly believe that maybe Arthur is right — maybe, if he confesses, his world won’t come crashing down. Maybe you’ll light it up for the better.

“What happened to you at turn one? Nic told me you dropped out of the points." you go on, eyebrows furrowing with the remnants of confusion. Ollie had begun the feature race in P2 behind you, yet you'd find that the competition you'd so anticipated disappeared not even before the first lap had ended. The Brit sighs, shaking his head.

"I collided with Jack trying to defend." he tells you with a wince, "Damaged my sidepods."

Your expression twists into one of sympathy. There's almost no coming back from that, even for a driver as talented as Ollie. Still, you think, to climb back up to P5 after sustaining damage like that is no mean feat. You don't miss the way he flushes bashfully when you tell him as such.

"It was my own fault." he mumbles, trying desperately to cool the flames in his cheeks as you watch him, eyebrows raised. He always feels like he's been put under a microscope when you look at him like this. There's no escaping the calculation in your stare, the curious scrutiny. "I took too much of a risk."

You shake your head. There's the tiniest of knowing smiles on your lips. Ollie is always so hard on himself. It's something you both admire him for, and find yourself exasperated with; he never seems to be able to see how brilliant he really is -- or at least, how brilliant he is in your eyes.

"Well, whoever was at fault, it's a real shame." you dismiss with a wave of your hand, "I miss sharing the podium with you."

Ollie is sure he must be melting. He can't figure out if it's from your words alone, or from the tiny pout that's fallen on your lips, or even the soft glint in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Suddenly the proximity between the two of you seems to have all but diminished. He chuckles nervously.

"Next race will be ours." the Brit murmurs. Little by little you inch closer to him, your hand resting on the ledge you're leaning on, just ghosting over where his own lays flat. He breathes in sharply.

"Promise?" you whisper. The point of your heel bumps against his foot. Ollie glances down at it in a panic, before his head snaps up to meet your piercing gaze. He fears that if he rocks forwards only the slightest bit on the balls of his feet, he'll be close enough for his nose to bump yours. He's never felt so consumed, so intoxicated by another person in all his life. He can smell the honey scent of your hair, feel your warm breath tickling his cheek. His gaze flickers down for the briefest of moments to your lips - soft and pink, parted as if there's something else you want to say, but the words have gotten trapped in your throat.

"I promise." Ollie croaks.

Just one more step, you think. One more step, and he'll kiss you. He's so close, closer than he's ever been before, and suddenly you can see everything falling into place: all the nights spent crying on Arthur's shoulder, wondering whether Ollie is truly just scared as your friend says he is, or whether he simply doesn't feel the same. It will all fade into a distant, long-abandoned memory. Finally, you'll be able to call him something more than just your best friend.

But then he steps away.

You flinch, taken aback at his sudden movement. Ollie stares at you, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as if he's just run a marathon. He can't believe what's just happened — can't believe he was about to kiss you. How could he be so stupid?

"I —" he stammers. The look on your face is hard to decipher: shocked, confused, hurt. If Ollie looked a bit closer, he'd be able to see the last of those emotions, or the way your shock is mixed with a horrible sinking feeling of disappointment. But, of course, he doesn't see it that way. He's stuck on the same, poisonous idea that's been plaguing his mind ever since he first figured out his feelings — you don't feel the same way.

"I'm sorry." Ollie gasps. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and runs, leaving you stood alone, arms half outstretched as if to try and stop him. You're too late, of course. Within moments he's out of sight. Gone, just like your hope.

"Well that was a train wreck." a familiar voice speaks up from somewhere on your left. You spin around, groaning as you spot Arthur, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed in what you can only imagine is frustration.

"You don't say." you drawl bitterly, glaring down into your empty glass. Wordlessly, your friend passes you his own half-full one. You lean down to sniff at its contents, and pull away, nose scrunched in distaste — definitely not water. But you think, at this point, you're owed some kind of distraction.

"Why does he keep running away from me?" you grumble. It's been months of this cat and mouse game now. Tonight is the closest you've ever got; the first time you've seen with your own eyes that Ollie does reciprocate your feelings. Yet it feels like for that step forward, all you've gone and done is taken another two back.

"Because he's an idiot." Arthur answers plainly. The Monégasque watches as you take a gulp of his drink, pulling a face at the burn in your throat, and wordlessly reaches forwards to take the glass back from your hands. He's grateful that you don't complain.

"Well I wish he'd stop." you mutter. As much as you're willing to wait for Ollie for as long as he needs, it's painful, having to go on loving him from a distance like this. Every time you lock eyes, the longing grows more intense. You're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You know, you're just as bad as he is." Arthur speaks up. Once again, your head snaps towards him, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"You heard me." the Monégasque says with a sigh, "Look, I want to help you, I really do, but you could make all of this so much easier for yourself if you just tell him how you feel."

And there it is. You can’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. It sounds so simple coming from Arthur’s mouth — so easy. God knows you’ve tried, time and time again, to be honest with Ollie about your feelings, to rip off the plaster in the hopes the pain of it won’t be too great; that he might just tell you he’s been trying to say the same thing all this time. But whenever you feel as if you might be ready, the words catch in your throat. You just can’t stomach them. It’s a kind of vulnerability you’ve never shown to anyone before, let alone someone who already means so much to you. At the end of the day, you’re still young. No matter how much you love Ollie now, the chances of him being the one are low.

At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself. But a part of you knows already — there’s no one else on earth you’ll ever feel this way about. Young or not, it’s always going to be Ollie.

“I don’t know if I can take that risk, Arth.” you say quietly, “If Ollie and I — if we’re not meant to be together…isn’t it better just to have him, even as a friend, than risk losing him entirely?”

You’re honestly not sure which is the most painful: having to pretend that you don’t love him, or the idea of one day not having him at all. Yet, you still know which one you’d choose — even if it hurts like ripping your own heart out of your chest.

“Huh.” Arthur says, eyebrows furrowing again. There’s something different in his expression this time, though. It’s less frustration, more a spark. As if he’s realised something you and Ollie may not have just yet.

“What?” you ask. Suddenly, Arthur begins to smile. You watch him disbelievingly, none the wiser as to what on earth he has to be so happy about at the present moment. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head as if in mirthful despair.

“You really are soulmates.” the Monégasque snickers, watching almost gleefully as you grow even more confused.

“What?” you ask again. Part of you begins to wonder if Arthur has lost his mind — you wouldn’t blame him after the game he’s been playing: acting as some sort of secret go-between in the middle and your and Ollie’s back and forth self-doubts. But Arthur hasn’t lost the will to live with it all just yet. In fact, he thinks he’s finally figured out how to make the both of you see sense.

“He said the exact same thing to me.”

And with that, Arthur turns on his heel, leaving you stood alone, your mind racing. All this time you’ve been trying to play the long game; trying to anticipate what Ollie is thinking, when in reality, your thoughts are practically shared. You’re both afraid. More than you ever have been in your life. But for the first time you begin to think, perhaps fear doesn’t have to be the dividing factor.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Carla Brocker asks her boyfriend as he retakes his familiar position at her side, still grinning like a child who’s just been told Christmas is coming early. Arthur says nothing, merely tilting his head in the direction of where you stand motionless. It only takes a few moments for Carla to catch on. She turns to face her boyfriend again, mouth hanging open.

“You think you’ve got through to her?” she whispers urgently.

Once again, Arthur Leclerc grins proudly.

“Just call me Cupid.”

[manicpixiefelix]

Whatever you do, friend! Try not to think of Felix in-between Reader and Ollie - maybe on a couch or bed - alternating between making out with the siblings. Felix is breathless and a little dizzy.

vibes 😌💖 but also I have started thinking about this!! trapped in this little fantasy even though you warned me!! You've also reminded me of this absolutely delicious thought you sent the other day;

Reader and Ollie's elite friend group at Oxford now includes Felix, this beautiful boy radiating such glorious himbo energy, draping himself across the siblings at every opportunity and including himself in the groups conversations and plans. The dynamic between the three is so strange as the siblings seem to share Felix.

so since I'm here I'm gonna play in this space for a bit; just a warning it gets a bit suggestive and you all get a bit high --

Because Felix has spent so much of his life as an object of desire. If he admitted that out loud he knows it'd make him sound vain and self obsessed, but it is just true. This, however? The way both you and your brother look at him, touch him, want him? It makes his head spin.

Because Felix has spent so much of his life being wanted, he never stopped to think how fucking good it would feel to be wanted by someone he wants in return.

And there's two of you.

Everyone at Oxford knew the dynamic between the three of you had shifted after you and Oliver had spent the Summer with him at Saltburn. Sure, you'd clearly both adored Felix before, had flirted with him and gone out of your way to be in contact with him, but now it was... official? Was that the right way to put it? Possessive. That's more like it. Uncomfortably hot to think about, he'd once overheard. All three of you took a bit of pride in that when he'd told you. But no, Felix never really minded; he knows people find him charming and beautiful and magnetic, but even he is shocked to have two beautiful heirs so willing to get on their knees for him. He'd take any opportunity to show either, or both, of you off just as you'd both eagerly do the same with very little provocation.

"Our Felix."

In a dark corner of some house party, all of you a little high, a little drunk, tangled up together, curled around him on a loveseat definitely meant for two people, Felix feels like he's losing track of where he ends and you two begin. Its not at the point of indecency - yet - but he's not exactly sure which hands are yours and which are Ollie's, both of you curled up with him pressed between you both. You're tucked up with your head on his chest, while Oliver has his chin on Felix's shoulder, all enjoying the warm, buzzing high that engulfs you as you pass a joint back and forth between the three of you. If this moment lasted forever, Felix thinks he'd be okay with that.

Oliver always seemed to get quieter when he got high, somehow more owlishly observant, but his focus was always unnervingly absolute, if affectionate. You, however, were the tactile one of the pair, insistent yet careless about your love, needing others to keep you in check while in public as your shame seemed to evaporate in the smoke. Sober-Felix is glad for Oliver in those moments, as he seemed to have a great deal of experience in stopping High-You from making a fool of yourself. (High-Felix thinks he's a bloody buzzkill half the time; it's not like anyone would really care if you went down on him under the table at a club, right?)

All that to say that Felix knew it was really only a matter of time before you were pressing insistent kisses along his jaw, practically begging for his attention here on the sofa well after midnight at this house party. He loved having you both like this, with all the world at your fingertips but you both prefer to be holding him. Oliver cradles his face so delicately as he presses the joint between Felix's lips, and you practically melt under his touch as he shotguns that lungful of smoke into your mouth. He mumbled blurry praise against your lips as you hold the smoke in.

"Aren't they just darling?" Oliver sighs fondly in Felix's ear in a voice that reminded Felix why so many people believed the rumours about the two of you. But in this moment he can only bring himself to agree, wearing a smug smile as he nips teasingly at your lips.

"They're just darling," he echoes as you whine and finally let the smoke from your lungs. Felix finally stops teasing and kisses you, just as sloppy, passionate, and desperate as you are in that moment. The moment his hand slides from around your shoulder, down your side to your hip to pull you in closer, you moan faintly into his mouth. Felix feels when you cross one leg over the other, that leg coming making its way over one of his too, but coming to a stop before you can slide your leg between his thighs.

"Careful," Oliver's voice is low and sly when he interrupts you both. When you pull back, Felix sees Oliver's hand on your knee, the thing that had kept things from getting far more scandalous for the time being. While you whine about it, Oliver gives you a placating smile, softly pushing your leg back and passing over the joint as if it's compensation. Felix's head already feels like it's spinning from the sensations of it all, but Oliver's hand is gentle on his chin, tilting Felix's lust filled gaze while you were otherwise taking a hit.

"You'll get your chance," Oliver promises with a wicked grin before he too is kissing Felix. More insistent than his sibling, Oliver bites at Felix's lips, makes Felix think the word obsessive in the most loving way.

You giggle in his ear this time - our Felix, so good to us - as if he'd be anything less than. Oliver's hand is still on your thigh while you're half curled against Felix. A tiny part of him thinks the three of you must be getting looks, if anyone's bold enough to look in your direction, but the rest of him doesn't care. None of you do, your own little world, your own feedback loop of endorphins, all at once desiring and the desired. When he has both of your attention on him like this he is inevitably a mess, the way you lavish him with praise and affection, a lover shared, obedient between you both and simply eager to give as good as he got.

I'm kind of a mess about this dynamic omg...... but so is Felix 🥰🥰

[angelsnkisses]

nsfw headcanons - ollie sway <3

‼️ NSFW - MDNI ‼️

warnings: perv!dom!ollie, sub!fem!reader, stalking, masturbation, oral (fem receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie

• he was lowkey such a perv in this movie omg.

• he always stares at you. your ass, your lips, your thighs, everything. he's so embarrassed every time you catch him, but he'd never admit it.

"what? i wasn't staring! i wasn't, honest."

• he's so obsessed with you, always following you around and taking every chance he has to get his hands on you.

• he lowkey stalks you, following you home, watching you change in your window. one time he even touched himself while he watched you, unable to help himself.

• he'll pull you aside while you guys are with friends, sneaking off with you to make out or fool around. he's always so needy, always wanting you.

• he loves giving you head. there's no place he'd rather be than in between your thighs. even in public, he'll be quietly begging you to let him take you back to the car or somewhere secluded, just so he can eat you out.

"c'mon, please? i'll be quick, i promise."

• in public he does what he can, but he's much, much more attentive when you guys are alone. he takes his sweet time when he gets you to himself.

• he loves working you up, making out with you while his hands wander. he'll grope your ass, or bite your lower lip, getting you all wet and heated for him before he does anything else.

• he always lets out a little gasp when he first pushes into you, his head falling forward and his hair covering his face.

"oh, fuck. you're so fucking wet, all for me."

• he'll fuck you hard. he can't stop once he's started, and he lives for watching you fall apart under him. he's the epitome of 'geek in the streets, freak in the sheets'.

• surprisingly very vocal, both praising and playfully mocking you.

"good job.. you want more? such a little cockslut, it's adorable."

• his favorite way to fuck you is with your ass up, face buried in the pillows while he pounds into you from behind. he'll hold your waist, pulling you back to meet his rough thrusts.

• he moans so much omfg.

• he lovesss overstimulating you. he'll fuck you through orgasm after orgasm, cooing encouragement to you every time you start to protest.

"shh, you can take it. i know you can. come on, just a couple more for me.."

• the milky ring that forms around his base everytime you cum on his cock drives him fucking insane. it makes him feral seeing you all cockdrunk, watching you finish again and again just from him fucking you.

• when he finishes he makes sure he's pushed deep inside you, wanting to fill you up completely. he loves the feeling of your cunt clenching and fluttering around him while he paints your walls with his cum <3.

"that's it, let me fill up your pretty pussy. oh fuck~"

• he'll lean back to get a good look at how ruined you are, it's one of his favorite sights.

• best believe he gives you that premium aftercare.

• he'll put on a record and clean you up, humming along with the music and kissing you all over <3.

**

A/N: this is so out of character for ollie, i got carried away 😭. nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think. also, i (finally) watched twelve yesterday! chris is so sweet, he deserved sm better. looking forward to writing about him <3!

P.S. sorry this one isn't gender neutral! i try to make my works as inclusive as possible, i was self indulging a bit with this one :).

[rokishimizu4]

Arrows and Smoke

(Realized that Bruce and Oliver were married in one past or another, but I love Roy and Jason more)

It wasn’t often that Oliver Queen found himself actually busy at a gala, as it usually him bullshitting his way through the conversation and polite smiles. However, after getting the message from Flash, it was all hands on deck.

Even poor Roy, who usually never goes to any galas, was forced to attend as Cass’s plus one. As, and Oliver would never admit it out loud, but Roy was a better, quiet, shot and Cass’s ability to read people makes for a great duo.

Oliver stood off to the side, surrounded by chatty women with big earrings and even bigger check books, and felt like he rather switch places with Flash, risked bite mark and all, but notices a man entering with his wife and twin, which was someone that he never saw before.

He was not the only one to notice as he could see Jason, damn that kid got tall, do a quick circle once and flashed a polite smile at the family as the father grabbed a glass of champagne. (Aka not familiar but not on the Bat’s hit list)

However, his attention is ripped from the strange family as Bruce strides up to him, and his group of older ladies, and asks if he could “steal” him away for a moment.

”Thank fuck, I thought those ladies wanted to strip me.” He teases as he follows after Bruce, talking nonsense to fool everyone else, but tries to keep any eye on the family-especially on how much the father drinks.

“It seems like a few of your kids couldn’t make it. Who has a gala in the middle of the day anyways?” (Aka has your kids find anything? Reason for the early meeting?) “I can barely keep up with my own business nowadays.”

”Duke and Dick are in an early meeting and Barbara is meeting her father for lunch. Cass and Damian were the only ones that could make it.” (Aka busy as all hell). “It’s been sometime since we were able to have a proper get together.”

”Tell me about it! I can barely sit down to eat without someone in my ear talking about recent events.”

The two men talk and flirt with young women for a few more hours, never drinking more than a glass or two. Keeping eyes out for anyone that could be a target. Until a crash of a metal tray hitting the polished marble.

Eyes turn towards the noise and everyone sees the father, of the small family, raising his hand towards his wife as if to smack her, but Jason got in the middle of it.

Bruce and Oliver rush to the scene, only to find the man crying while his wife stands there indifferent. As if her almost being hit was just another day for her. The twins stand a little ways off to the side with Roy and Cass.

”What is the meaning of this? Security!” Another man, the Host of the Gala, calls but Oliver holds up a hand to stop the guards.

”I believe he just needs some fresh air, I’ll escort him out. Please, continue the party.” Oliver flashes his Ollie smile and helps the man to his feet and politely drags the man out and into the fresh air.

”It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” The man mumbles, clearly having more than a few glasses of champagne but not sure what else he could have drank.

”That.. that woman… don’t let..” The man tries to continue but his eyes begin to droop, and Oliver starts to worry.

However, before Oliver could get more out of him the man starts coughing violently. He tries to keep the man on his feet and tries to call for help. He manages to get the attention of people, and calls 911.

Police and ambulance arrives even before the first ring, signaling that someone else called long before he did. The medics take the man as Oliver rushes back in, almost being trampled by the mob rushing out of the building while screaming bloody murder.

It doesn’t take long for Oliver to figure out why as the windows burst apart around the force of a ice slide rampaging through.

Several people?, burst down the ice slide cackling like children, with the twins in the arms of a red werewolf (Having the time of their lives). A winged girl, with blue and pink hair and a very revealing dress, flies down and snatches the man right out of the medic’s grip and spreads some type of dust as she flies.

A man with a black fedora mumbles spells and chants for all to hear and Oliver starts to feel dizzy as a sudden sleepiness overcomes him.

Then the strangest of all, a black and purple monster of oil follows after, carrying the screaming woman out of the building and drops her violently off at Jim’s police car. Her screaming about her head being ripped off and eaten.

Then, as if nothing happened, the group disappeared in the fedora wearing man’s smoke spell, but not before an arrow shoots through it and hits the man’s fedora.

”Nice shot kid.” Oliver whispered in awe as the police and medics quickly take over the scene, only making way for Signal and Nightwing once they are on scene.

“Commissioner Gordon, please bring this woman in for kidnapping, drug and sex trafficking, and for the murder of Mrs. Bolton, a Metropolis running mate for mayor.” Nightwing orders, and Oliver thinks that he and Roy should have stayed in Central City with the Flash.

[leiflitter]

Hi I'm doing a research paper on antiheroes and I'm using Oliver as one example. Could you maybe tell me why he appeals to you as a character despite the murdering and the scheming etc

You come into my askbox while I sleep and make me think? First thing in the morning? BUT I SHALL ANSWER

won't make any sense probably but HEY!

I think the main reason I love Oliver is because I can see a lot of myself in him.

Cut bc this will be long af

Granted, my perspective on the character is... I spend a lot of time thinking about that idiot, so this is fully based on my interpretation of him buttttt

Okay, so the murders and scheming are firstly... Ambiguous. Elspeth is the only one we see as it happens- not in a flashback, big-twist, oh it was my evil plan all along #classwarfare #girlboss #theyhatetoseeabadbitchwinning way- and she's so far gone she's on a ventilator and just dies without it. How did she get so sick? It isn't mentioned. Honestly, as someone with long covid, she's wandering around London without a mask. LADY. YOUR LUNGS.

Everything else? The spiked bottle. The razorblades. They're shown to us at the end, this big gotcha moment... From someone who has clearly spent every moment since Felix Catton died trying desperately to gather some small piece of him.

His home is decorated like Saltburn. He's immediately trying to get back in. The moth battering itself against the window.

Whether or not Oliver Quick is an evil, scheming murderer is entirely down to your interpretation of that reveal montage. Mad props to Emerald for that.

My interpretation of it is... Not to say he's innocent, but that he's a sad, sad man grasping at straws to give himself more agency. He's spent years dwelling on and analysing the worst time of his life, and as a good Eng Lit student (dude was doing essays on Browning) he's turned it into a narrative.

If we stop suspending disbelief, then we have:

Felix

Oliver put some cocaine in a bottle (as evidenced by Oliver having the same sort of vial Farleigh has in the main hall). Oliver drank some. Felix drank some. He threw up, Felix died.

I have probably said this before, but Felix's death cannot be directly attributed to Oliver's actions.

Felix was in the bathroom, and although we don't see him doing lines, he's not just hanging out there for funzies. He's going hard, probably mixing drugs and booze. He's so off his tits that he doesn't notice how bad/bitter the booze Oliver gives him tastes. Plus there's a reason people snort cocaine; it's efficacy is highly reduced when eaten, and it takes far longer to reach the brain. How long would Felix have just stood in the maze? Waiting there like a sim with no activities queued until he keeled over?

It's likely that Felix overdosed, but it's really unlikely that Oliver was the sole cause, if he was the cause at all.

Venetia

He left razorblades near her. That's literally all we see. From Oliver as a character, I don't think he has the guts to actually, directly kill- and it wouldn't make sense to. He'd be found out immediately if he did- any sign of violence and the Cattons would have private investigators and all sorts at their disposal. He was in the next room. It'd be open and shut. I do think, from the blood on the floor, that she tried to go to his room for help and he ignored her- but!

Leaving something sharp near someone in distress is another shitty scheme. What was he going to do if she didn't notice them? What if she knocked them off the side of the tub accidentally? Was he going to leave her a post-it note like HI V PLS KYS LUV OLLIE to make sure she noticed them?

Another thing that often is kinda... Glossed over... Is that Oliver is a fuckin teenager, and he isn't as smart as he portrays himself.

Olls. Why would you fool about with Felix's sister in plain view of the house? Ollie. What exactly did you expect one email to do? Erase Farleigh from existence? Oliver. Mate. You left your phone in the bathroom? Where Felix "no boundaries" Catton could find it? Why? Did you need to play Snake in the bath THAT BADLY? Oliver. Why would you lie about something so easily disprovable? Oliver Quick, you started digging a hole and it became Felix's fucking grave.

Older Oliver has turned what happened into a narrative where He Has Agency. He did it, and he did it on purpose, because HE WASN'T IN LOVE WITH FELIX (he was in love with Felix). He had a plan, you see, it wasn’t him being desperate and trying anything, everything he could to stay close to Felix.

He wasn’t a weird, awkward teenager who went away from home, fell in love with someone entirely unobtainable- due to socioeconomic bracket, gender, the year, all of that- and was so desperate to be near Felix that he built an unsustainable web of lies that fell apart. I think the maze scene is Oliver at his most honest, because he doesn't understand why his performance is any different, other than the amount of effort he's put in.

No, he was evil. A bad guy. A wolf in sheep's clothing, Felix his innocent victim. He's a genius... Because what is the alternative for Oliver Quick?

Admit that he was little more than a child, lashing out, unable to accept his own feelings- as he's unable to accept them as an adult- and now...

The immutable fact is that Felix died, and Oliver will never be over it.

What's the safer option?

I was a mess and I might be responsible for this and I was lashing out and I might have killed the thing I loved most because I fucked it all up.

or

I did it all on purpose.

And... To bring this back to the question.

I have been Oliver Quick in the bit before the bike scene. I've watched people I'd like to be friends with, living a life I was too shy or scared to go after. I can remember desperately wanting to be cool, to have a backstory, to be compelling...

I just never got desperate enough to lie. And I'm doing pretty good now, but I fucking get it. To want that connection so badly, to yearn for the life you see other people living, to want to be someone other than yourself.

So y'know

That's why I love him.

[queenimmadolla]

This headcanon inspired by my adorable nephew. Recently hes been learning about giving kisses and saying yes and no and usually what will happen is you ask him “Ollie can I get a kiss?” And he grins and shakes his head no just Eddie trying to get kisses from baby penny and she shakes her head no and Ofcourse, being Eddie his response is extremely dramatic lmaoo. But then on the offchance she does say yes and actually gives him a kiss, he is equally dramatically happy

One of my nephews does that to me when he’s feeling like being a punk lol

It’s the cutest thing ever and Penny would definitely do that to Eddie.

Once she starts being playful and thinking on her own rather than simply prompted by whatever you say, she starts to mimic your behavior. She’s seen you deny Eddie his kisses (playfully of course, you ain’t no fool) and the teasing you’d do to each other after so when Eddie would ask her for a kiss—fully expecting her to give him one because she’s yet to deny him—he’s stunned in amusement when she smiles, tip of her tongue poking out my from between her lips as she leans away with a shake of her head.

“Excuse me?” Eddie asks, eyebrows pulled together and lips already breaking out into a wide smile as he catches on to what his baby girl is doing.

When she remains silent, still not leaning in but grinning, he lets out the most dramatic gasp, hands flying to his chest as he lets himself crumble to the ground which sends you and Penny into a fit of giggles.

He lays there on the ground, eyes closed and tongue out of his mouth for that extra oh, he’s dead effect. Eddie hears the rustle of her diaper as she climbs down from her perch on the couch, and he’s smirks, smug at the fact she was about to come and kiss him back to life.

Except she doesn’t. When he hears her toddle right past him, he opens his eyes and watches her waddle up to your legs instead, hands reaching up and making grabby hands.

Penny smirks at him when you lift her up and his mouth drops wide open, the dramatic gasp one hundred percent real this time. When she leans in to give you a kiss, holding eye contact with him, Eddie shoots up and marches right over, eyes still alight with mirth because his baby was playing with him! She was teasing him all on her own!!!!!

“I know exactly what you’re up to, little pretty one! You’re trying to make me jealous.” Eddie scoffs and scoops her out of your arms, holding her face up to his as he gives her an unimpressed look, “Well, guess what? It’s working.”

Then proceeds to cover his giggling daughter’s face in loud, smacking kisses.

God, I love them.

[hollow-keys]

I am thinking about this interview with Judd Winick (the guy who made Jason Red Hood and laid the foundation for his entire modern characterization) because it's very telling with regards to the motivations for why Jason was made into a villain.

"I've said this before, but think anyone would agree that Batman is a hard character to write because we've done so much with him already. He's the most psychologically analyzed character in the entire superhero genre. Even when he makes the jump to second media stuff, it's equally about what goes on in his head as it is about his fists. So he's been explored inside and out. For me, Jason represents a whole new avenue of story in the Bat-universe, both as Batman's greatest failure who has come back to haunt him, as well as a character that is interesting to explore as an individual."

To me, this is him saying that the decision to bring Jason back as a villain was primarily to serve as a good antagonist for Bruce and keep Bruce's story fresh rather than being for Jason. Exploring this new Jason as a character in his own right was a secondary motivation. Winick's character decisions are not rooted in what best serves Jason and what makes sense for him, it's to serve Bruce.

"Yes, Jason sees what he's doing as making himself into a better Batman, the Batman that the world actually needs today.

But some of that is just Jason fooling himself. The truth is, all of it is based in the fact that Jason is just damaged and tortured and angry with Bruce. And this is a constant revenge upon him."

So, the justification for Jason being a villain is that he's traumatised. It should go without saying, but saying "this guy is evil and broken because trauma, you should write him off because trauma" is not a good way to write survivors.

"So do I understand him? I don't know. It's a scary thought that someone would have an affinity with someone who is as messed up as Jason. I do think he's wrong. I don't think he's going about justice the right way. Maybe I'm able to get inside his head a little, but thankfully he hasn't started rooting around in mine."

Winick not only views Jason as a villain but as one no one should have affinity with. He's not meant to be relatable, as above you're meant to write him off. There's no room for the idea he might have a point.

It reminds me of the leftist villain trope where they don't actually care about equality, they're just jealous or they do care but they go too far so you shouldn't listen to them.

"I also like the fact that Jason's actions aren't black and white. Sometimes he functions in that gray area, and it gives you the license to be somewhat hypocritical, because he is. I used to do that with Oliver Queen in Green Arrow, and people would go crazy, because I thought it was interesting to explore that sometimes he's a bit of a hypocrite. I find that likable about the character. And in Jason's case, he professes that he's trying to be a better Batman and he's trying to rid the world of evil, but then he's also just trying to stick it to Batman. It's very much a man-child thing going on."

If by "go crazy" you mean "hated it" then yeah, you're right. A lot of Green Arrow fans do not like Winick's run precisely because he does not understand the character and misrepresents him to make him look worse, like a hypocrite. There's a parallel between how Winick treats Ollie and how he treats Jason because in both cases he's taking pre-established characters and making them look worse because he does not respect them. He writes Jason as having very legitimate grievances with Bruce's ethics and then writes him off as a man-child. He is not approaching him in good faith.

I see Jason being a villain as a choice the writers made not because they thought it was good for the character, but for secondary reasons and then justified by villainising trauma survivors.

This is exactly why I don't take Winick's word as gospel with regards to Red Hood.

And post Winick, DC only seems to create stories where Jason is nothing but an edgy anti-hero divorced from righteous anger or strong ideology and stories where Jason has to change and throw his ideology away so he can be reincorporated back into the Batfamily. It's not great.

But that being said, I do think there's potential for Jason as Red Hood. I don't want it scrapped altogether because I would love to see a Jason who is actually trying to serve victims and help people in bad situations by both destroying what causes harm and constructing alternatives. Jason is a character with a lot of potential that I would like to see realised.

[imzsuzsis-blog]

"On behalf of my family, Lando Norris, I'm asking for the full truth now!" I stood behind him while he threw himself into the bin, because sightseeing was the obligatory program today and this was the third bin he threw into. "I'm saying that I'm not pregnant with some kind of virus. You're just imagining it, I won't deny that. That I'm gay and that Ollie and I had a rough time, but we're still a couple." I smiled back at Alex and shoved the test back into my belt pouch. Don't let him see that I lied to him. "Shit, did you see Lando?" George became serious and became engaged to his girlfriend." "What were you gossiping about?" "Congratulations, man, that's a big word." "Thanks, Lando, when did you tell our little three that you were probably pregnant?" "Lando, I told you that's what you said yesterday in Swedish, you flat idiot!!!" "It's good that I'm pregnant from Ollie, but the breakup was very rough, the boys don't want to talk about it, let's sit down somewhere and celebrate the engagement."

"I'm a fool, I let the boy I love go." I twirled the racket and at least tried not to throw it, but once I almost managed to hit Logan in the face. "Ugh, I'm sorry, my thoughts wandered somewhere else." "Paul is your boyfriend, that is, the one with whom you made the news." "Logan, it's not true, you made this up and you spread or spread the rumor about me, it's not false." ,.I have no relations with the f2 field, they said that you were dating him and he was quite angry about the kiss, who did it happen to?" "Fuck you that me and Lando kissed, you fucking have nothing to do with it, you Florida bastard!!!!" I ran out in anger, laid down on the floor and could hardly breathe. Logan freaked me out, he's the gossiper, but I really can't stand it in that field. "Paul pick it up!!!!"

In front of the cattle, I was in the hotel room and I was video chatting with my girlfriend who was there with Bali Carlos's girlfriend and they say that they really like each other... They can't stand each other. Apparently, one of the queens of OnlyFans reached out to Carlos. He is already sick of this app, as are many of us in the field, especially Lando or Alex, although Lando tried it, but he thinks there are so many whores and cock-hanging him prostists up there that he deleted it, so he doesn't date here if he wants someone for himself, he also tried the apps, but they failed miserably there more than once he walked out of the date himself, the subject wanted to kidnap him and drag him out to make him a prostitute, but he was also transgender, he keeps in touch with him to this day, but unfortunately most of them were whores who only wanted Lando's money, so that's all about Tinder. "Sorry, but that was really optional." "Charles can't go without throwing up." "I'll leave you... Calm down, Lando, it will definitely be over one day, don't worry about it too much." "That's not the problem, but Kelly, you know. DR Yin said she started to worry if I didn't only have acne in the morning anymore. Now it's half past two and I've been throwing up for half the day and I don't even know how many Tokyo trash cans are full of what I had for breakfast today." "Fuck it, I'll call the ambulance then, it's bad, not only your health is important now, but the health of the people inside is even more important!!!"

In the hospital, I didn't even understand what the doctor was talking about. I looked at her, then at Charles, who was shrugging because I think he thought the same thing as me, he thought I was pregnant by him. We started pointing out that no, I am not from him, but from another boy who is younger than me. I felt that someone other than Charles would hold my shoulder and bring me heart trouble. "My mother Loki, the heartache that hit me was terrifying." ,,Lando will say hello if we already dated yesterday..." ,,Hi, I've only vomited for almost half a day, you poor trash, and you know I'm afraid that my beans will hurt. I'm about five weeks pregnant, but that's not fixed either." "Thank you, he said that he can tell you at any time that you are seven weeks old, not five." ,,MR Norris calm down, thanks for the information about you now deep air guys from outside..." I looked at him, I couldn't believe it. "Fetus, fetus?" "Tears of joy or sorrow?" "Ecstasy is more there, my little one." "Look at one there and the other there, but wait with him if it doesn't get absorbed by the twins, but it seems to me that it won't." I held my face at the news, my brain couldn't place the news, it was good and bad. "Do you hear?" "Yes, I can hear their tiny heartbeats." I wanted to go out and nyakuba fell over, but I didn't go, I took the little rest I had, I saw how he was wiping the jelly from my stomach, I stood up, took everything and went out. "Why did you send us out?" Silnetly fell to the necks with a tearful face, I couldn't say what to say, "Gemini, now the other is not willing to give up."

[itaerae]

🎧 Annon is so so right no one writes for Ollie and it’s so sad bc I can’t move on even tho Bp has been over for a while.. Ik you’ve already done a lot of Ollie stuff so it’s ok to decline. But can you pls do a grumpy/sunshine Ollie fic? Ik you kinda already did kind of a similar concept but maybe you could do a diff au? It would be so adorbs in ur writing style ty so muchh

but i like you — l. ollie

pairing: coworker!ollie x reader

synopsis: ollie is one year your senior and frequently helps you out at your florist job. only problem ? he’s quite cold to you ! what happens when this one shift pushes him on edge ?

word count: 0.5k

warnings: none ! (not proofread)

authors notes: this fic is purely inspired by lyrics from 'but i like you’ by bnd ! sorry i took so long to post this, i had a cold and summer school work on top of it so i was really unmotivated. anyway, happy reading ! ⟡

—

the bell rung as you walked into the floral shop. your sight was greeted by your coworker, ollie, who appeared to be working on a bouquet. deciding not to bother him, you clocked in for your shift and started rearranging some boxes.

ollie was glancing in your direction every so often, making sure you hadn't injured yourself lifting such heavy objects. he noticed you were struggling with a particular box and decided to help out.

"let me do it for you." he stated, grabbing the box from you, accidentally brushing against your hand in the process. you smiled and thanked him, to which he only nods, turning away from you to put the box up.

i think my hand touched hers. she grins at me, how is she so pretty ? a blush spread like wildfire on his cheeks.

the bell rung once again, letting you both know a customer had walked in. "hi welcome to in bloom— TAERAE !" you eyes lit up as saw the customer, your older brother.

"hey, (nickname) !" he pulled you into a side hug. ollie stared at the both of you from the counter for a bit before returning to what he was doing.

"so, what brings you in here today ?" you inquired jokingly, raising a brow at him. taerae chuckles and pats you on the head.

"just picking up some flowers for a friend's graduation and stopping by to see my favorite person~" taerae teased back. suddenly a loud crash is heard and ollie speaks up.

"oh sorry, a flower pot fell off the shelf. i'll be in the back cleaning up, (name)." before you could reply, he already walked away. you sighed quietly before leading your brother to the bouquets of carnations.

i saw you linking arms with him, should i just go for it ? who is he ?

your brother finally left the shop and it was just you and ollie once again. he emerges from the storage room. "oh, did the customer leave already ?" he asked, looking around the store. you nod.

"ah, you two seemed pretty close. do you know him ?" he goes over to rearrange some bouquets and gestures you to follow.

"of course, he's my older brother !" ollies face flushes with embarrassment and the jealousy fades instantly. he should've known, he thought to himself. think of me as a fool. "i see."

a comforting silence falls on the both of you before you decide to speak up. "ollie i've noticed you rarely face me whenever we speak, why is that ?" you were really curious now.

the question catches him off guard. another moment of silence passes. he looks up at you, still avoiding your stares. "ah, no reason really. i just have a hard time looking people in the eyes." he lies, hoping you'd buy it.

but you stare at him quizzically. "you're lying." you sneer at him jokingly, resting your face in your palms. "c'mon, i'm so curious !" you complain, giving him puppy dog eyes hoping to convince him further.

he sighs and rubs his temple. after a bit of contemplation, he decides it's finally time to tell you. "you're driving me crazy, but i like you."

taglist: @wonswife , @keita-luv , @sanastulip

[pies-database]

OBLIVION [He/they]

Name(s): Oliver, SW4

PHALANX code: ALTN - 004 - 998

Nickname(s): Ollie, Bliv

Likes: Club music, experimental food, cheesy romcoms, lonely nights, quantum physics, business studies, cats, mythology studies (especially anything about apocalypses), a challenging case, law

Dislikes: War history, the study of Medicine, the sound of scratchy metal, walking on gravel, being the centre of attention suddenly, "dull" days, physical work such as engineering.

Personality: They may seem closed off at first, but don't let that fool you, he thrives on a bit of light chaos. He's a sort of Backroad Lawyer where desperate people can pick him up for some of their oddest cases. It's why Smiler IMMEDIATELY seeks them out when they want to start their own business.

Before all this comes to light, though, they do seem very much a shadow on the corner of your vision.

Abilities: Harness darkness itself, and can make it 'consume' people. No one, not even Oblivion himself, knows what happens to people who are consumed. Can cause extreme bouts of paranoia with his presence alone, and can cast his consciousness and voice to different electronics within a certain radius.

Abnormal physical features: Perfectly white eyes, apart for a ring where the edge of the iris should be. This makes them essentially stone-cold blind. Something on his presence will never have a highlight, it is always shadow. This constantly shifts, but is most often his cape.

Backstory:

In 1990, a 15 Oliver comes out to his parents as being Oliver and is promptly kicked out. Luckily enough, they have a friend (and their parents) willing to take them in. Then, he just doesn't move out.

People would oftentimes mistake them for a couple, but that was never entirely the case, they never agreed on a relationship status. One day, they just didn't bother to correct people anymore. And a couple they were.

They went to University together, even. Oliver studying law while their partner studied business from 1993 to 1996. Eventually they both came home, a crumbling mess of the people they once were. Oliver got prescribed antianxiety meds while away, and had become dependent. Their partner, because of this, was constantly out on pub crawls. Things turned sour.

It was the first pub crawl when they got back, that caused an issue. Their partner met someone, and it changed both of their lives. Their partner slowly gained more confidence, spending more and more time away, sometimes spending the night somewhere but never saying where.

In 1998, the shoe dropped. They broke up with him, leaving him with an empty flat filled with furniture for two. They went to pubs to drown their sorrows away.

It was March 14 1998 when it happened, he went to far. Got too drunk, got kicked out. He fell on the way home. But this is a British village we're talking about here, he didn't just fall, he rolled, eventually landing face first in some glass in the road. Blinding him. Pretty much killing him, actually.

Luckily, someone found him in the road and nursed him back to health. Unfortunately, he couldn't be fully saved. However, the person who took him in already knew this, and didn't care, cause they were one of the previous residents of the Stately Home: Black Hole.

Ever since, they were the "oddballs" on the outskirts of the forest, usually taking residence in an abandoned warehouse. They would go out "stargazing" together where Black Hole would explain the astrophysics, and Oblivion would relate it to a tale he heard in a mythology.

This peace was once again disturbed when Black Hole left him, in a much more final way than their previous partner. 8 years later, and they meet someone new. Or rather, they have a brief encounters before the Someone New chases them down and strongarms them into giving legal support with incredibly poor charisma.

Current residency: Ministry Of Joy warehouse in X-SECTOR

ASKS: OPEN

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[felixferitas]

@ourpretender: inside a single bathroom of a place of service; restaurant,  store,  club etc. ( ollie & felix / older!au ? where felix lives and they went their separate ways and some ? 15 year reunion dinner for oxford graduates pulls them back together and it's . sparks all over again ? the place of service could be a restaurant near the campus and the nostalgia could hit . . . )

to everyone's disbelief, his parents in particular, felix grows up. when he fell back into old self-destructive patterns, blowing through girls and drugs and money, it seemed as if he might never. but he lives to learn from his mistakes. some more life-altering than others, he thinks, absentmindedly rubbing over the pale strip of skin where his wedding band used to sit. tying the knot with the first girl to make googly eyes at him after graduation had not been a smart choice, but an honest one, with his ex-wife trying and failing to take half of his assets with several rounds of meetings with the divorce lawyer his family had on retainer. the whole thing had left him feeling a bit jaded on the concept of love, a mere juvenile thing to forego now that he's had an artificial taste of it after entering adulthood. casual flings always suited him better, always struggling to commit to things, his inattention a perpetual problem that plagued his past and his present. nostalgia obscures the full picture, always makes things seem better than they actually were when looking in the rearview mirror, but as nightmareish as that summer had been, felix wants to delude himself into thinking he maybe had a taste of the real thing once. that's why it had been so fucking frightening. because it was terrible and true, unconditionally all consuming, felix had to flinch away from it. he had to send oliver reeling away like a kicked dog. seeing him again here at their reunion dinner, felix has to admit that he looks far from kicked or down on his luck. oliver looks polished, like he's finally settled into the skin he was always trying to slip out of, and heat prickles at the base of felix's spine with trepidation. felix pretends not to notice him and instead waits to be noticed, because that's how it's always been, it's how felix needs things to continue to be. for all his fine english pedigree, all that nobility has afforded him in life, there are still some things that have escaped felix's grasp. some things he's let slip through his fingers like wistful grains of sand.

"hiya, mate. you look well," felix greets, unpolished and clumsy. it's possible his charm has eroded with the natural passing of time, along with the distance between them creating a rift, and felix no longer knows how to bridge that gap. especially now that there was more of an even playing field, with oliver no longer looking like the poor welfare case who got all his clothes from oxfam. felix wonders if they would've ended up in the same place if they'd met as equals, if their tale would be a little less tragic and painful. "got even more jacked than the last time i saw you. you know there's room for more than just protein in a healthy diet, right?" felix offers a tiny breadcrumb to defuse the tension, because although he knows he's skilled at playing the fool, genuinely inquiring after oliver's wellbeing throughout the time they haven't been speaking would be a ghastly mistake. i think you need to see someone. you need help, okay? felix smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. all the lights are on, but nobody's home.

[innitmarvellous]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

I feel like the way I'm interpreting these prompts isn't the intended way, but...what can I do, I'm a politics nerd, lol.

Fandom: The Thick of It

Words: 818

CW: swearing, but if you know the show it's rather harmless haha

Fic under the cut (& on AO3, link above)

'Here we go, mate. But only for a few minutes. It's late at night and I'm not supposed to do this at all, but since I know you I'm making an exception.'

Malcolm put a hand on the caretaker's shoulder, an unusual gesture for a man like him. 'Thanks, it's much appreciated. I'll be out of here soon, I promise.'

'Alright. I'll leave you alone now.' The doors closed and Malcolm was alone inside the big chamber of the House of Commons in Westminster Palace.

He looked around and even if he knew this room so well - the wooden benches covered with green leather, the visitor's gallery high up above his head and the special atmosphere that was simply unique to this place in the heart of British democracy - it felt as if he only really saw it for the first time.

His feet took him over to the right-hand benches and he sat down where the leader of the opposition usually had his or her place. He took a seat and thought about how he had never actually sat on these benches - of course not, after all he wasn't one of these fucking politicians! - but he had seen many people who had been sitting here and on the opposite side of the chamber. They had come and after a while they had gone again. Because of stupid scandals or simply because they had been unfortunate enough to have lost their seat in an election.

And now it was his turn. He wasn't a member of parliament, but he sure had lost something. It wasn't just a job, really. It had been his life, for better or for worse.

He felt empty inside. And this big chamber - so utterly devoid of people, of any sign of life - echoed his feelings perfectly. It was like a metaphor. However, he hated thinking in such terms like metaphors. That was the kind of fucking stupid things sentimental people did. He didn't need that kind of rubbish.

Yes, it was all empty now. He had often seen the House of Commons full of people. He had been up there on the gallery, first in his function as the Prime Minister's close advisor. And then, in their opposition days it was Nicola whom he had accompanied here. In fact, none of them would have come very far without his support and the work he had done for them. What would happen now that they had to make do without him? Would Westminster Palace simply fall down, now that Ollie - that incompetent little fool - had taken his place? No, of course it wouldn't. It was a thought that almost made him laugh (and he had not had many occasions for laughter recently), but it was nothing but a nice thought.

The world would simply go on. Soon this empty house would be full of people again. People that weren't him.

He ran a hand across his face. 'Fucking hell. I must be too old for this. I'm getting sentimental.'

As he was still facing this horrible thought, the big door opened with a creak and the caretaker peeked in. 'I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave now, mate. Can't risk losing my job over this.'

Malcolm got to his feet. 'Alright, alright. It's about fucking time anyway.'

He allowed himself one more look around. That was it. Time to go, truly.

After he went outside, the caretaker locked the door and said: 'That other bloke has already left, you know.'

Malcolm frowned. 'What other bloke?'

'Well, the other bloke. Tall, dark hair, wore it weirdly slicked back...didn't like him, honestly. A rather smarmy fella. Said he wanted in too because he's a friend of yours. Wasn't that true?'

'No, I don't know anyone like that,' said Malcolm, despite knowing the truth very well. So that spineless little rat had followed him here, but then he had been too much of a coward to actually talk to him. Well, that was typical for Ollie.

The caretaker shrugged. 'Oh, well. Can't have nicked anything and now he's gone anyway.'

He said his goodbyes to the caretaker and thanked him again, then he left the building. He took his time walking through the hallways, taking everything in as he passed by.

As he went through the door and stepped out into the outside world he felt that something had changed inside him.

There was relief. It was as if he had left behind a lion's den. A gruesome place that wasn't worth another look back.

And yet...

That place had been a big part of his life for the last years. He wasn't able to leave it behind for good. Some part of it probably remained here. Some part of his life, of his self, and he would never get back.

He had no idea whether that was a good or a bad thing.

[goldendoodlerlockerlove]

Also, also, Jimmy Jr

Woohoo!! The only boy ever, the dancing queen himself, Jimmy Jr. I'm lowkey sweating a bit because I want to do your favorite boy justice.

First impression: I was very normal about Jimmy Jr. at first (please don't come for me--) I just didn't have a very strong opinion about him. I thought he was funny, and a decent love interest for Tina, but I didn't think much of him. I did think the whole Romeo & Juliet thing he had going on with Tina was pretty great, but other than that, I was pretty normal about him.

Impression now: I hope you know you've made me appreciate him so much more, and now I find myself randomly thinking about him. I think he's an interesting character to analyze, especially when it comes to his daddy issues with Jimmy Pesto Sr., And analyzing how he expresses himself through dance is really fun. He's quite a relatable character. You've given me brainrot, DT, I hope you're happy, pffffffft.

Favorite moment: One of my absolute favorite quotes in the entire show actually is "DON'T TELL ME NOT TO DANCE, DAD!! 😤" I kid you not, it makes me wheeze every time. And the moment when he takes Tina out on a date to Fro-Yo Mama in What A (April Fool) Believes is so sweet (awesome frozen yogurt shop name, by the way).

Idea for a story: Ooooooh, maybe a story that delves deep into his daddy issues with Jimmy Pesto Sr. would be great. Or one that delves deep into his relationship with his mom, because we haven't seen her yet. Though, I would also love to see something centered around his relationship with Andy and Ollie. We need more Pesto Brothers lore!!

Unpopular opinion: Oh my god, what are some people's problems with Jimmy Jr.?? Why can't we all just get along and appreciate his weird, wonderful dancing?? I swear, every time he appears, it stirs up some sort of controversy within the community, and frankly, I'm so tired of it. He's a great character, and I will not hear otherwise. He's thirteen and doesn't treat her that much badly than Zeke. I said it!!

Favorite relationship: I love his relationship with Zeke, it's hilarious. I still keep thinking about when he wanted to catch a chicken nugget in his mouth in the movie and Zeke was helping him. That was great. However, I do love analyzing his relationship with Tina. The two of them are so fun and chaotic together. I will say, @babsvibes said it best, but one of my favorite aspects about their relationship, whether romantic or platonic, is that Jimmy Jr. loves it when Tina is mean, and she can get mean. Their stupid competition on who can run the fastest during The Gene Mile?? I love it. And it goes to show that Tina can be just as mean to J Ju as he can be to her. It's mutual 😌

Favorite headcanon: Jimmy Jr. is a redhead and I will not hear otherwise. DT, ever since you began drawing him with red hair, I've been so obsessed. Now every time I've drawn him (which honestly hasn't been enough, I want to draw him again) I always make him a redhead. It just works so well!! I like to think him and Andy and Ollie all got their hair from their mom. I'm really glad that he didn't inherit Jimmy Pesto Sr.'s butt chin--

[tabswrites]

OC Interaction Tag

Tagged by @willtheweaver here!

Gently tagging: @revenantlore @galactic-mystics-writes @sunset-a-story and an open tag!

Your OC: Hesper is the long-serving guard captain for Lord Halley of Loftperch Lookout. He has few ambitions outside of serving his liege. Proud and quick to anger, he will respond to any threat with overwhelming force. As well as being a skilled fighter, he is also a strategic planner, preparing for any and all scenarios before committing his soldiers to battle. For someone who has dedicated their life to the art of war, Hesper is surprisingly cultured. He fancies himself as a war poet and has composed songs and ballads recounting tales and battles of old.

My OC: Oliver is the former lieutenant of the High Guard and the disgraced descendant of his city’s founding father. He is described by some as charismatic, handsome and talented with a sword. He is described by others as a lazy, arrogant drunk. After trading the love of his life for a shiny new title, he became a cold and bitter person whose only passion in life was the desire to feel nothing. These days he’s just trying to make up for his mistakes and find a purpose, but the part of him that loves to raise hell and drink his problems away is still very much there.

Hesper and Oliver: I think that Hesper would strangle Oliver about five minutes after meeting him—if he even lasts that long. Ollie loves to provoke people and he loves a good brawl. He’s really good at finding the right buttons to push.

However…I think if the fools can manage to avoid concussions, they would find that they have a lot in common. Skilled fighters, both of them are/were guards, and they both have an interest in music.

Do I think they could be best friends? No. Would they live through the encounter? 50/50 chance (my money is on Hesper). Would it be fun to watch? 100%.