#yes they really translated jack to daddy

[bradpittschiseledabs]

‘i am jack’s…’ quotes from fight club according to the hungarian dub

‘i am daddy’s clenched fist’

‘i am daddy’s fucked up life’

‘i am daddy’s vicious jealousy’

‘i am daddy’s lonely heart’

[requiemforthepoets]

instagram live & spring rolls 𖦹 LN4

part 1 of the norris family series

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: you had decided to do an instagram live as you and your four-year-old daughter, tilly, cook some spring rolls which is lando’s favorite as a surprise for him after a very hectic and chaotic triple header race.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: sorry guys, girl dad lando currently have me on choke hold so it might be a while. i’ll be writing a bunch of girl dad lando that it might be turned into a series too…lol…also pls don’t judge me, i love the french and russian language, i have always find them a very beautiful language. anyways, enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNINGS: some typos, google translated french and russian, a hint of reader being french-russian, and multicultural household (let me know if i missed any)

“Alright Tilly, ready to go live?” You asked. “Prêt, mon amour?” (Ready, my love?)

She nodded enthusiastically, her soft curls bouncing. “Oui, maman!”

The kitchen was bright and natural, the afternoon sun was casting soft shadows on the countertop. You smiled as you set up your phone to start the Instagram live. Thylane, or Tilly as you all affectionately called her, was standing on her step stool, with her little apron tied securely around her waist. She was really eager, her small hands already reaching for the ingredients laid out in front of her.

“D'accord, bébé, es-tu prêt à faire le plat préféré de papa?” (All right, baby, are you ready to make daddy’s favorite food?) you asked her in French, a playful smile on your face.

Thylane nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing as she responded, “oui, maman! Rouleaux de printemps frits!” (Yes, mom! Fried spring rolls!) her pronunciation was adorable, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

As the live started, a wave of comments flooded the screen, fans excited to see you and Thylane in the kitchen. You greeted everyone, switching seamlessly between languages as you spoke to the viewers and to your daughter.

“Salut tout le monde! Hi everyone!” You greeted, smiling. “Today, Tilly and I are making some spring rolls for Lando, who’s gonna be coming home soon. He loves them, so we thought it’d be a fun little surprise.” you explained, smiling at the camera.

Thylane clapped her hands, bouncing on her stool. “Spring rolls for papa!” she echoed, her excitement contagious.

“Let’s get started!” Thylane was already picking at the wrappers, her concentration focused as you gave her instructions in Russian. “Solntse, voz’mi risovuyu bumagu i polozhi yeyo v vodu,” (Little sun, take the rice paper and put it in the water.) you said gently, and without hesitation, Thylane repeated the action, dipping the rice paper into the bowl of water with a little giggle.

“Parfait, Tilly! Bien joué!” (Perfect, Tilly! Good job!) you encouraged, the fans can hear the pride and love in your voice. You ruffled her hair and kissed her cheeks. “You’re getting better every time, mon chou!” She beamed, clearly enjoying the praise and the chance to help.

A few questions popped up on the screen, asking about the recipe, Lando, and Thylane. You read them out loud as you answered, all while guiding Thylane through the next step.

“Thylane speaks three languages; French, Russian, and English. She switches languages like it’s nothing, and the fact that she can hold a conversation with each language at a young age, always amazes us.” You chuckled, your hand steady as you showed Thylane how to place the vegetables on the softened rice paper. “And yes, Lando loves spring rolls. We usually make them together, but today, it’s just me and Tilly. Right, ma petite chef?”

Thylane beamed up at you, nodding as she concentrated on rolling up the filling. “Je suis une chef, maman!” (I’m a chef, mom!) she declared proudly, making you chuckle.

“Oui, tu es la meilleure chef,” (yes, you’re the best chef) you responded warmly, watching her tiny hands carefully fold the sides of the wrapper.

“What is Tilly’s full name?” You read a question, “Tili, moya lyubov’, kto-to sprosil, kak tebya zovut. Khochesh’ sama im skazat’?” (Tilly, my love, somebody asked what your name is. Would you like to tell them?)

Thylane nodded, “Menya zovut Tilan Francheska Norris, mne chetyre goda.” (My name is Thylane Francesca Norris and I am four years old.) She held up four fingers, indicating her age. “Mama skazala mne, chto moye imya oznachayet ‘malen’kaya dikaya orkhideya’, potomu chto ya—krasivyy tsvetok.” (Mommy told me that my name means little wild orchid because I am a beautiful flower.)

You smiled proudly, “da ty, samaya krasivaya iz vsekh!” (Yes you are, the most beautiful of them all!) then you move onto the next question.

“Is Tilly good at cooking as she is at being adorable?” You read again a new question with a grin. You looked down at her, she was concentrating hard on her spring roll. “What do you think, Tilly? Are you a good cook?”

Thylane giggled, her cheeks puffing up with pride. “I am! I am! Look!” She held up her somewhat lopsided spring roll, which was more squished than rolled.

You laughed softly, patting her head. “Oh? That looks…interesting, ma cherie! But it’s okay, we’ll keep practicing.”

The comments kept rolling in, some of them making you laugh. One asked if Thylane was already better at cooking than Lando. You grinned at the camera, “well, I think Tilly might have him beat, don’t you think?” Thylane giggled at that, clearly enjoying the attention.

As the two of you continued to make the spring rolls, you spoke softly to Thylane in Russian again. “Kogda papa pridet domoy, on budet tak udivalen.” (When papa comes home, he will be surprised.)

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded excitedly. "Da, on budet schastliv!" (Yes, he will be happy!)

You returned your attention to the live viewers, showing them the progress of your spring rolls. “We’re almost done here. Look at how perfect these rolls are! Tilly is such a pro, guys!”

Once all the spring rolls were ready, you moved over to the stove to start frying them. Thylane stood beside you, watching closely. She was too small to help with the cooking part, but she stayed engaged, her eyes wide with curiosity as the rolls sizzled in the pan.

When the spring rolls were done and cooling on the counter, you checked the time. Lando would be home any minute now. “Alright everyone, that’s it for today! Thanks for hanging out with us and we’ll see you again next time, we’ll try and cook new food again with you. We hope that Lando will like his little surprise, right Tilly?”

Thylane nodded eagerly. “Au revoir, tout le monde!” (Goodbye, everyone!) She said as she waved cutely to the camera.

As you ended the live, you cleaned up quickly with Thylane’s help, just as you heard the keys jiggling on the front door. You exchanged a knowing look with Thylane, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Lando walked in through the door, looking exhausted but very happy to be home. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you and Thylane, but then he sniffed the air, a smell that is very familiar to him and his smile widening.

“Is that…spring rolls?” He asked, voice laced with surprise and full delight.

“Yup, you’re favorite.” You replied smiling, as Thylane ran up to him, jumping into Lando’s arms, and quickly carried her. “We made them for you, papa! Surprise!”

Lando laughed, tickling Thylane softly and kissing her cheek, then pecking you softly on the lips as you walked over to him. “You two are the best. I didn’t expect this at all.”

“We thought you deserved a little treat after the triple header.” You smiled, gesturing towards the plate of spring rolls on the counter.

His eyes softened as he looked at you, his gratitude evident. “Thank you, both of you. These really look amazing, my love.” Lando paused, turning to Thylane with a grin. “Did you help, my little chef?”

“Oui, papa!” Thylane said proudly, switching languages as easily as you did.

Lando gave you a playful look, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m going to need to keep up with you two and your languages,” he teased, making you laugh.

The three of you sat down to enjoy the spring rolls, with Lando praising Thylane with every bite, and Thylane feeding him one. “I think you might just be the best chef in the house, Tilly!” He said between mouthfuls, and Thylane giggled happily.

As you watch them together, you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth and contentment. It was these kinds of sweet and simple moments that made everything perfect and worth it. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in this world.

[kennyomegasweave]

Get to Know Me

Tagged by @negrowhat.

Three Ships 1. Over: Team/Win I liked the 30 minutes we got in Until We Meet Again. The whole "be brave about it" scene got so many bitches and I was one of the bitches. I loved Between Us. The only complaints I had had nothing to do with those two. Also, unpopular opinion, but the subs translating "hia" to bro were amazing because I call my girlfriends dude, so it didn't even occur to me that it was weird Team was calling his boyfriend bro. I'm a Californian okay. That makes more sense to me than Win wanting his hookup to call him the same name his baby brother calls him and he calls his older brother. I don't even like daddy kink, no thank you to a brother kink, lol.

2. Not Airing, But Not Over: Palm/Nueng Listen. They're so hopelessly teenage. They're like 18 and are like "we ride together, we die together, bad boys for life." Palm got Nueng's name tattooed on him, got shot for Nueng, had his mom die due to Nueng's life, his father is in the wind cause of Nueng's life, and he's still like I love you more than anyone in this world baby. Nueng really isn't better. He was like you're officially debuting as my bodyguard so I'm gonna dress you in a slutty shirt and too tight pants since you're gonna be next to me and I want people to see my fine ass man *play Nikki Bella's "you can look but you can't touch"*. They both tried to break up with the other with dramatic goodbye notes and leaving in the night. That didn't work for either of them. Palm like owns a bar at the end? And Nueng is like still gonna take over an entire company, possibly mafia? Remember, they're like 18. It makes no sense, compels me though.

3. Currently Airing: Buck/Eddie Eddie legit said to Buck after a year of knowing him "I know you love [his son] the same as I do." And then after only like a year and a half of knowing him gave him custody of his son in the event of his death and when he finally told Buck that, like maybe two and a half years after knowing him, he was like "yeah I have family, but you love my kid more than anyone, you'd fight for him more." I don't think I need to say anything more. Oh, except I will mention the time Eddie was trapped in a mudslide well underground and Buck tried to DIG HIM OUT WITH HIS BARE HANDS until their captain stopped him because, you know, that wouldn't work and also get ahold of yourself Buck. I've lived in that moment ever since. "Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen, time went on for everyone else, she won't know it" and all that. It won't be canon cause I know my Ryan Murphy shows, but that won't stop me because they legit have a KID together.

First Ship Eric/Jack and Shawn/Angela from Boy Meets World I loved Eric/Jack together and wanted them together all the time. Even as a kid I was like "Rachael, babe, please, let them be with each other." Looking back, I know they were baby's first slash ship. Shawn/Angela were just perfect for each other and, to this day TO THIS DAY, I don't understand why they broke them up. It makes absolutely NO SENSE. Both of these ships are why I also don't acknowledge Girl Meets World at all. Because fuck that. Just fuck all that. Thank you.

I'm gonna do my first BL ship too because it's my post and I do what I want. Prem/Wad from SOTUS. Yes, I'm aware they weren't canon. And I will be FURIOUS until the day I die. Plus Wad just disappeared never to be spoken of again and I don't understand. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Gunsmile was out here CAMPAIGNING for that ship. He would have done it! They would have made a good ship. They are the ship that should have been. I'm more angry about them not being an actual thing than I am about ToddBlack and, believe me, I am a full on clown about ToddBlack.

Last Song Serial Killer by Lana Del Rey. I will be mad as hell this was never officially released. It is in my Top 3 Lana songs.

Last Movie I haven't actually watched a movie in a really long time. So maybe it was Fair Haven months ago? I come back to that one a lot because it's not super angsty, but also not 100% fluff. It has the hint of religious trauma but even that's thrown off relatively easily cause he misses his bf that much, lol.

Currently Reading I just did a reread of The Long Walk by Stephen King. It's just sad. 100 boys are selected after volunteering to enter a yearly game in a weird alt America. They start walking at the Maine border and have to continue to walk until there's only one left alive. The winner gets anything he wants. They aren't allowed to stop for any reason. If they do stop, or fall under pace, they have three warnings and then they're shot. It's the worst because you know the entire time they're all doomed from the start, but you really hope somehow it won't end the way you've known it will end the whole time. Plus it's very fruity between two of the mains and that's like an acknowledged thing. That makes it even more devasting to me. It's one of my all time favorite books.

Currently Watching 9-1-1, Bed Friend, those are the only ones I can think of actively airing.

Currently Consuming Last night's grilled cheese.

Currently Craving Rice and an egg. Like cracking an egg on steaming rice? Perfection. I can taste it. Except I don't have any eggs. And like a cuddle buddy. I don’t cuddle but I want to, idk, lol.

Tagging: @ohnegroplease, @yourrescuemission

[pub-lius]

Do you have any fun facts about John Laurens?

Hm. Here's the thing with Laurens, we don't have a lot of information about him, and I haven’t done excessive research on him like I’ve done with some people, but I will do my best ^.^

So, for this ask, I reopened Gregory D. Massey’s John Laurens and the American Revolution (much to my dismay), to try to find better descriptions of the few facts I thought were interesting and not widely talked about, so if you want sources, I recommend that book, but if you want to keep your brain cells mmmm don’t read it!

1. Henry Laurens called John an incel

“Master Jack is too closely wedded to his studies to think about any of the Miss Nanny’s I would not have such a sound in his Ear, for a Crown; why drive the poor Dog, to what Nature will irresistably prompt him to be plagued within all probability much too soon.” -Henry Laurens, 1766

He was not plagued with any attraction towards the Miss Nanny’s. He became too closely wedded to a very sus ginger.

2. Because of how smart, John was as a kid, his dad asked him for help writing his political pamphlets

In the 1760s, Henry Laurens had legal troubles because some dude confiscated his ships and he was like “what the hell bro you can’t do that” and the guy was like “i totally can do that” so he sued him, but still didn’t get the outcome he wanted so he wrote Extracts from the Proceedings of the High Court of Vice-Admiralty. While writing this, he “...puzzled [John] about a Grammatical term or so,” and asked John to translate Samuel Pufendorf’s writings into English from Latin.

3. John wasn’t allowed to enroll in Oxford because his dad thought it was too sleazy

Henry Laurens was a very... careful, conservative guy. When he was trying to find a school for John in London, he visited Oxford and Cambridge to see if they would be good fits. They would not, at least not in Henry’s opinion. 

“The two Universities [Oxford and Cambridge] are generally, I might say universally censured. Oxford in particular is spoken of as a School for Licentiousness and Debauchery in the most aggravated heights.”

He also just hated London in general, so nothing could really make Henry happy.

4. John was a walking existential crisis

While he was in school, John was trying to figure out what he wanted to do as a career, but didn’t really want to do any of the four options he had: merchant, doctor, lawyer, or minister. Of being a minister, he said, “...commands the most solemn Silence and serious Attention from all his Audience, my Soul burns to be in his Place,”; of being a lawyer, “...the same emulous Ardor rises in my Breast,”; of being a doctor, “...I can’t refrain from wishing to be an equal Dispenser of Good.” 

Really, John couldn’t choose because he didn’t know which job would make him more famous: “No particular Profession is in itself disagreeable to me; each promises some Share of Fame.”

He did not want to be a merchant tho. He said no way in hell. Jk, he actually said, “I never lov’d Merchandise, nor can I now.”

4. My guy had severe daddy issues, bc his dad basically guilted him about everything

So, Henry left John in Geneva to complete his education, and John ended up spending too much money, and “jamming with the wrong crew” as my dad would say. I’ll just include an excerpt from John’s response letter here so you can see how depressed he was:

“I feel my Mind a little eased, tho’ it will not be free from Pain and Anxiety, ‘till it receive some words of Comfort from you. And I am persuaded that however greatly I have offended, you would pity me, could you conceive the Tort[ur]e of Mind that I have undergone this day… Yes you have shewn me myself… You have shewn me such a Man as I almost hate… I supplicate Your Pardon, and Pity, how dare I ask to restore to your Esteem, Your Unworthy, tho much afflicted and penitent Son John Laurens.”

Yes, I cry every time.

Basically John’s baggage was that he thought he was a selfish, uncontrollable, terrible person whenever he did anything slightly wrong because of how strict his dad was. Henry Laurens was a very loving father, but oh my god dude your son is dying inside. Also, there are like three other letters like this at least. 

5. My guy almost got literally smashed by an iceberg

ice age vibes

This was while he was traveling to France in 1780 to bribe the French for money. Idk how but randomly their ship was just like... floating around with a bunch of icebergs. Also Thomas Paine was there. And John was standing on this one part of the ship like an aimless idiot, and when he walked away, there was a big boom as an iceberg slammed into the ship right where he was standing and he would have gotten smushed like an ant. 

After that, everyone got so distracted that they almost died again, according to Paine, who said, “The pleasure occasioned by his escape made us for a while the less attentive to the general danger.”

6. The entire French court fucking hated him

So, John Laurens was chosen to be a special minister or envoy or something to Versailles. If the 1777 campaign hadn’t existed, this would have been the first stupidest decision in American history (jk every decision was a stupid decision in american history). 

You see, Laurens was a spicy lad, and liked to throw tantrums whenever he didn’t get his way, which worked better when you were using swords and guns instead of just your mouth (well it didn’t really work out that well for him but-). 

One person he annoyed in particular was the Count de Vergennes, who I personally think is a rat bastard, but he’s the rational one in this scenario. Laurens basically annoyed him every five minutes to give him more money. Vergennes did not want to give him more money, but he was scared Laurens would snitch to Washington.

“Mr. Laurens shows zeal, but I tell you in confidence that he did not express it in a manner suited to the nature of his mission…I think I should speak to you about this officer because it is possible that, because he was annoyed at not obtaining everything he asked for… he may give a biased account to his chief.” -Count de Vergennes, 1781

Laurens definitely would give a biased account to his chief.

Benjamin Franklin also thought he was a bit much, but Franklin didn’t do jack shit.

“Mr. Laurens is worrying the minister for more money and we shall I believe obtain a farther sum.” -Benjamin Franklin, 1781

The reason Laurens was so grouchy was because he hated literally everyone he talked to. Vergennes said that France was giving America favors (which they kinda were, America was absolutely not giving them their money back) and Laurens got PISSED, and said, “Favors! Mons Le Comte, the respect I owe to my country will not admit the application of such a term.” Like stfu bro with your patriotic ass and go back to Texas, yee haw.

There’s also that story about how Laurens went to meet King Louis XVI. I couldn’t find it in Massey’s stupid little straight man book, so I’ll just give you a vague retelling.

Basically, in Versailles, you weren’t supposed to speak directly to the king as a guest, but instead you’d speak to one of his ministers. John was too American for that, and just went straight to the king with his demands. He only got some of them, and they were poorly arranged, and Congress never asked him to go back <3

7. Laurens was a badass at Yorktown, but Lin Manuel Miranda won’t tell you that

So, during the Siege of Yorktown, the Americans were obviously going to win, but they couldn’t get around these two redoubts, numbers 9 and 10. No. 9 was put under General Lafayette’s command, and No. 10 was under Alexander Hamilton’s, and Laurens had a column under Hamilton. 

Laurens’ men were the first to charge the redoubt from behind, then Hamilton charged from the front. It was super cool, Laurens captured an officer, and then they won yay!!!!

But then dun dun duuuuunnnnnnnn they had to negotiate surrender terms, and since no one learns their lessons, Washington made Laurens one of the four dudes that would be negotiating. 

Now, there’s a really long little story that Massey included in his book, but its long, so Imma just summarize it like an incorrect quotes post bc this is tumblr and im tired

Ross: this is rude :( Laurens: which one Ross: ‘the troops shall march out with colours cased, and drums beating a british or german march’ Laurens: yep. Pretty harsh, right? Ross: wtf why is it here  Laurens: because, my good bitch, I was at Charles Town where you Brits forced us to march out under the same conditions. “It is not the individual that is here considered- it is the Nation.” if you don’t stop complaining, I’m leaving <3

So yeah, those are some of my favorite facts :)

This actually made me realize I need to do more research on Laurens, which I will do... after I finish crying over the 27 books I have to read. But its FINE because everyone’s blond, angry, patriotic himbo makes it worth it <3 hope this helps and thanks for the ask!!!

[whaleofatjme1920]

On the Coffee Table - It’s Not Entirely Comfortable (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: NSFT, creampie, rough sex, degrading, slight praise, “daddy”, “good girl”, marking - like, biting and love bites, jealous/possessive sex, squirting, slight blood? Nothing major though, also there’s three tongues in here and once again, a knotted dick/knotting. If you are a minor, DNI]

[AN: I started this at 2 am trying to finish it after downing some melatonin and only finished it now. Please tell me if I translated wrong!! I unfortunately only speak English. Doja Cat - Freak. This is 5.3K words.]

Part 1 Part 2

Jack trusts you so, so much. That much is apparent. It’s been about a month or so since he took you away from your old life, and you’ve never been happier. In fact, it’s been nothing but good things!

Why do you say that? Jack is so sweet, caring, and attentive. He knows what you want when you need it, and still, you’ve only ever kissed him.

In a sense, it’s maddening, but at the same time, it’s kinda cute. You like that he’s willing to go at your pace, and you like that he’s so mindful of how you’re feeling at any and every moment. You’re just really, really happy he chose you.

When that man from the grocery store came up to you, trying to speak to you… Well, you thought he just wanted some help! Honest to goodness, you had no idea what he was trying to do. Which is quite odd, considering you’ve been considered a goddess in your own right figuring those tells from miles and continents away.

You stood at the cart, waiting patiently for Jack to come back from the other side of the grocery story because something you’d wanted slipped his mind. So, you familiarized yourself with the fresh produce instead, looking over the pretty colors before that cute little shower system kicked on paired with the little rain noises as they gave water to the vegetables.

You were honestly minding your own business when some man came up to you, a shy smile on his face.

“Uh, hello, ma’am?” He started, a pack of berries in his hand.

You whip around and turn your attention to him, putting down the leaks as you did so. “Yes?”

“Do you know how this is pronounced?” He said. “Is it… A-kai..?”

You motioned for him to come a little closer - close enough for your shoulders to brush up against each other. Your eyes scanned over the words. “Oh! It’s açaí ,” you giggled as you read over the words.

“A-sigh?”

“Açaí,” you repeated with a small smile. “See? Say it with me,” you said, as you watched the man’s face light up.

“Oh, okay, açaí,” he finally said correctly, that same smile bloomed on his face. “Y’know, you’re really good at this,” he smiled.

You lit up. “Thank you!” Beaming, you gave him your full attention.

“It’s nothing, did you take Spanish?” He inquired, still maintaining his close distance to you.

You nodded vigorously. “I took four years of Spanish in high school. Señora Chika always said I had an ear for language,” you said in a semi-serious tone, index finger tapping your right ear lobe in a way that made that man blush.

The man smiled back. “That’s so nice to hear,” he continued, building off your words. “Look, I’m gonna be going to Mexico pretty soon, it’s a work thing,” he brushed off, “and I wanna know if I could get some of your tutoring services?”

You blinked a few times. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I think you would make an excellent-”

“An excellent what?” Jack’s clipped voice cut through, his glamour’s eyes glaring deeply at the man who dares breathing in the same air as you. When he saw the man pause, he waved his hand a bit as if to signal him to hurry it up. “She’d make an excellent what?”

“It’s… It’s nothing,” he mumbled before brushing past you and Jack. “Didn’t know she had a boyfriend, sorry,” he harshly apologized as he disappeared back into the aisles.

You tilted your head as you looked up at Jack. “What about his Spanish lessons?”

Jack sighed in deeply and took hold of the cart, tossing the thing you asked for back into it. “Él no quería clases de español.”

Your eyes widened in response. “Oh.”

Jack was silent to you the entire car ride back home, and you wondered if it was because that man came up to talk with you. You frowned in the seat. You honestly didn’t know that man’s intentions! You didn’t mean to push Jack’s buttons like that, in fact, you didn’t even know that man was flirting with you! He came up asking about pronunciation, not a number!

You pouted all the way until you made it back home, helping him bring the groceries back in as you did so.

“Put this one in the freezer,” he said as that frown continually pulled his lips downwards.

When you opened the fridge, he tsked his tongue.

“The freezer.”

You relented and did as he asked. Once it was in, he nodded at the now empty bags and began balling them up to throw away, maybe reuse and put in the bag drawer before leaving you to yourself.

And that’s how the rest of the day went. Jack looked like such a stick in the mud and you couldn’t stand it. What was eating him up so much?

You decide to confront him after dinner when the two of you are sitting on the sofa, watching some stupid program you don’t really care for. You just know you like being near him.

“Why are you being such a jerk?” You ask out of the blue as the program moves to commercials.

Jack visibly tenses before he relaxes again, raising his eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He deadpans, almost surprised you have the gall to speak to him in such a manner.

You huff and cross your arms over your chest as you turn fully towards him, brows furrowed and face cross with frustration over his behavior. “You heard me the first time,” you reply. When you watch his expression turn from vague amusement to slight anger, you backtrack. “I just - why are you so mad at me?” You finally ask, your eyes dark and stormy. “What on the gods green earth could I have done to offend you so greatly?” You huff, arms still crossed and face determined.

Jack lowers his eyebrows and reclines back, trying to give you the illusion that he’s not interested in your challenge. “You wanna rethink that tone?” He hums. “You’re messing with fire.” There’s a slight tease that laces his words and you catch it ever so slightly.

You’ve heard that tease before. “Maybe… Maybe I wanna feel the heat,” you murmur, voice dipping to something low and sultry. You uncross your arms on your chest and move your hands over to his lap.

Jack watches you carefully as he feels your index and middle fingers walk up his thigh and to his chest. “You’re gonna get burned.” His voice is so much lower and more alluring than whatever he was showing to you before.

Your eyes sparkle as your fingertips walk up to the neck of his hoodie, hooking in it and pulling slightly as if you’re asking him to take it off. “Maybe you’ll just have to kiss it better,” you mumble, bringing your lips closer and closer to his.

Jack doesn’t move and instead, allows you to lean in further and further. He’s got a budding smirk on his lips as you draw closer, his dark sockets watching you with intrigue.

You finally press your lips to his, eyes closing as he invites you further and further into him. You smile through the kiss, and giggle when his hands hook around your waist and sling you onto his lap, your thighs now resting on either side of him, bottom planted firmly on his thighs.

“You’ve been such a bad girl,” he mutters through the kiss as you move more fervently against his lips, his clawed fingertips now digging into the curve of your ass.

“Have I?” You breathe against him before smashing your lips back onto his, your heart rate already picking up and drumming wildly in your chest. You feel it’s harder and harder to breathe as he practically crushes you against his chest.

“You have,” he reaffirms, briefly disconnecting from you. “And that means you’re going to get punished for it.”

You practically squeal in delight as Jack’s sharp claws dig into the hem of your shirt and travel upwards, cutting through the fabric like it’s nothing. The torn fabric drops from beside you like it’s weightless, leaving you just shy of being exposed.

“You want me to break this too?” He hums, his fingers lightly feathering up your back to the clasp on your bra.

“I don’t care,” you giggle, leaning into his warmth.

Jack hums again and decides on unclipping it, briefly cooing in amusement as you lean back on his lap and slip the thing off before tossing it over your shoulder. He whistles deeply as he gazes at your chest. One of his hands plants back down on the curve of your ass before sliding back up to cup your chest, his large hands practically engulfing your breasts in their entirety.

You giggle once more and move your hand upwards to rest on top of his, gripping him gently and pushing him just a bit harder as he fondles you. You feel a rush of excitement every time his claws just barely ghost your nipples.

“No,” he suddenly says, his hand leaving your bottom half to pry you off of him. “You don’t have a right to touch me tonight,” he states as if it was nothing. He gestures to your hands. “Keep them on your thighs or on the back of the couch,” he commands, watching as you pout and settle on gripping your thighs. He smiles devilishly at you. “Good girl.”

You break your pout for a moment before he squeezes your breast, making heat rise to your face. The warmth that he gives off is almost intoxicating. You’re almost lost in it when he suddenly leaves, picking you up and off his lap, almost roughly placing you onto the far end of the sofa. You’re looking up at him with wide eyes as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants.

He hesitates.

“Well?” You egg him on. “What are you waiting for?”

And just like that, Jack is tearing your pants off, his claws slicing through the material like it’s nothing. You watch as he towers over you, snaking in between your legs as he pries them open. Jack’s face goes dark as he cuts off your underwear, his clawed fingers tracing your already glistening cunt.

Your mind goes blank when you catch him smirking and three long, thick, inky black tongues slip from his mouth, twirling and twisting against each other like snakes as they creep over each other, dripping with clear saliva. The tip of the longest tongue - which you recognize as the middle one - slinks forward and broadly licks you from top to bottom, making your thighs tense on instinct. Then, it takes a few more teasing licks, mostly building you up, wondering to see if you’re getting impatient, testy.

“EJ-” you barely wisp out before the middle tongue finally slips in past your already puffy lips, slowly, dragging against your walls lightly moving back and forth as it slips deeper and deeper in.

You let out a ragged moan at the sudden contact, thighs tensing once more. This action garners Jack’s attention and his arms maneuver under your slightly propped up legs, his claws digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to remind you of your place. You bite your lip in pure ecstasy as his middle tongue wiggles inside of you, thrusting light as it does so, his second tongue lathering your lips up in his saliva and applying delicious pressure to you. His third tongue begins to prod your pearl, and when it finally touches, you hiss in the contact.

You honestly didn’t realize just how warm he was. It gently circles your clit before taking slow, languid kitten licks, working you up to little circles that render his hands free to keep you from bucking him. Your wandering hands, which you had been gripping in vain on the cushions of the couch for support, feel useless under your iron grip. On instinct, your hands fly down to Jack’s head, wanting to push his face in deeper but he pauses.

His middle tongue stops twisting and curling inside of you, it’s no longer hitting that spot that has you seeing stars and his other tongues have retracted entirely.

You pout. “You’re such a meanie!” You exclaim as you throw your head back down onto the arm of the couch.

He shoots you a look as his tongue begins to retreat from your pussy, almost as if he’s asking if you want to rethink that statement.

You feel a heat rush to your cheeks.

He gives you that look again, eyebrows lowering and lids halving. There’s a faint smirk on his lips as he seemingly gestures to your hands, telling you to keep them to yourself. Jack is telling you that you aren’t allowed to touch him right now.

You glance away before he hums against your aching cunt, his tongue retreating from you just a little faster. You relent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble.

His brow raises. ‘What else?’

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you finally say before cutting yourself off with a loud gasp as Jack’s tongues are once again on the assault. His middle tongue is fucking your pussy with a heat you didn’t know possible, and you can barely even think as he rubs and sucks at your clit with his others. You feel his lips lightly graze you every now and then, his shark-like teeth coming dangerously close to nipping you but you don’t care.

In frustration, you ball your hands in fists and throw your arms over your head, struggling in vain to not touch yourself or Jack as he works you closer and closer to the edge. Your pussy feels like an ocean by how hard he’s working you, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are just downright sinful.

Jack’s thumb rubs small circles on your thighs, almost as if he’s complimenting you for not touching him before he works you closer and closer to the edge.

You clamp your eyes shut and arch your back as he removes his second tongue from your lips and wiggles it in with a powerful thrust from his middle tongue, the two intertwining and combining, bringing a new sensation to your overloaded cunt. Sweat beads all over your body as he thrusts a bit harder and flexes, the sudden thickness making your stomach and heart flutter.

His third tongue remains playing with your clit, circling and licking.

You can practically hear Jack goading you to cum.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, your thighs threatneing to clamp shut but Jack’s strong grasp holding you wide open and accessible for him. “Fuck!” You cry out again, back arching once more, hands balling so hard into fists you feel like they’re going to fall off and a raw cry of ecstasy pouring from your lips as you release onto his face, coating his tongues and face in nectar.

The white hot pleasure continues to bead and wash over you as his tongues begin to clean you up, the middle still refusing to leave your creamy cunt. It makes you tense, and that gets a soft chuckle rumbling from the back of Jack’s throat.

After he was sure he slurps you clean, Jack slowly, almost teasingly, removes his tongues from your cunt and then licks his lips like the bastard he is. He looks so smug. “That wasn’t very fast,” he notes as his lips begin to press kisses to your slightly bruised thighs, his teeth gracing your flesh every now and then.

You pout as you begin to sit up on shaky legs, body feeling like jell-o. “Give me a chance,” you challenge.

Jack raises a brow before dropping it, his face leaving from in between your legs and drawing closer and closer to yours. “I don’t think whores should get chances.”

You immediately bristle and smash your lips to his, hands angrily grabbing at his still clothed form, almost goading him to take it off. You hide your squeal of delight as he kisses you back just as fervently, his large hand groping aimlessly for yours.

Jack grabs your wrist and brings you down to his pants, allowing you to rub the large bulge that’s grown as he ate your pussy.

You stifle your giggle and unzip hi, after you worked on his belt - it’s not like this is the first time you’ve done something like this - but when you reach in and feel for him, your eyebrows raise slightly.

Jack feels you pause and laughs, effectively breaking the kiss. He pulls away from you to look at your face. “Go ahead. Take it out.”

Gently, your hands peel back his pants as he makes minimal movement to help get them off and easier for you and you are greeted to an absolute monster. He’s not even rock solid but you can tell he’s huge. Interestingly enough, there’s also piercings in it - you recognize the ones on the length of his cock as ladder piercings followed by a ring at his tip. Your face rushes with heat when you see he’s got a thick knot as well, already waiting to fill you up.

“Not what you’re used to?” He teases, his legs open as he rests back on the couch, waiting for you to touch him.

Your fingers gently trail and crawl up his muscular thighs before you wrap your fingers around him, taking note of the texture on his cock. It wasn’t anything like a human man’s, and that made you excited. That same coiling white hot heat began to pool in your lower stomach as you slowly began to pump him.

“Spit on it,” he states in passing.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, lips pursing as you thickly spit onto his head. Your thumb sneaks it over his dark dock that fades almost beautifully into his actual skin tone - you take notice of the silver specks that look like stars - and begin to grip him just a bit harder. You watch Jack’s expressions for anything of approval or disdain when you realize he’s not going to give you any satisfaction. You’ve been a bad girl. Of course he’s going to make you work for it.

“Use your mouth,” he then cuts through. “If you even think about using your hands, I’ll bite you.” He’s only half teasing. He absolutely would draw blood on your pretty flesh. His large, clawed hand that was gripping the back of the couch slinks upwards and over and buries itself onto your scalp, both soothingly and roughly guiding you down to his precum covered tip.

You open your mouth as wide as you can, mouth salivating as you finally taste him and the metal that decorates him. You’re so careful as he begins to pump your head on him, tongue flatly covering him in your spit as the head of his cock gets closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat. You struggle to breathe through your nose as he pushes you down harder and harder.

Jack hums out deeply as you suck him, your tongue swirling when he finally brings you back up. He switches hands eventually, the hand that had been holding your head now with its fingers trailing down your bare back as he cups the curve of your ass.

‘What on earth is he doing-!’ You moan against him as he twitches in the back of your throat as his ring finger and thumb slowly pull your lips apart just enough for his index and middle finger to slip in, filling you - but not to your limit. You squeeze your legs together and feel slick once again leak down your thighs as he finger fucks you while you still struggle to breathe on his cock as he pushes you down rougher and rougher.

In a way, you become his toy as his fingers make quick work of you. Your mind is lost in a lustful haze and you don’t even recognize he’s practically pulled your mouth off his cock as his fingers thrust into you harder, his nails so close to cutting you but instead, curling upwards in the best ways. Your face rests pathetically on his lap, your ass in the air as he trades his ring finger for his pinky and slips it into your needy, aching cunt.

“What a slut,” he whistles as you breathe raggedly against him. “I haven’t even fucked you properly and you’re rocking against me like a bitch in heat,” he cruelly observes, stifling his amusement at how you buck back in tandem with him. “Would you have treated that man in the store like this?” He asks, his voice dipping down to something sinister.

Your mind peers through the fog and you weakly shake your head as his fingers continue to fuck you. “Of course not,” you manage to squeak out. “N-Never, no one could make me feel like this,” you breathe out before squeezing your eyes shut, clamming your legs even tighter together to attempt to give your swollen clit some pleasure.

“You’re lying,” he states in a sing-song tone, his fingers roughly thrusting into you, curling upwards and rubbing you intimately, making you see stars. “Liars don’t deserve to cum,” and just like that, he’s pulling his long, thick fingers from your greedy cunt.

You gasp and look up at him almost wantonly and certainly pathetically. “EJ,” you begin before his other hand presses to your lips.

“You know better than to call me that,” he chides.

You swallow your pride, gradually composing yourself to a sitting position. “Daddy.”

“Better.”

“Please,” you start, moving off the cough and onto the coffee table. You turn around, planting your hands on the glass, poking your ass up and wiggling it side to side in an attempt to entice him, “please. I’ve been… I’ve been bad.”

“Just bad?” He hums as he stands up, palming his pierced cock for a moment or so, hissing as his precum weeps from the tip and onto the cheeks of your ass.

“I’ve been really, really bad,” you continue, still wiggling your hips and ass, swaying ever so slightly.

His tip just barely ghosts your entrance, hand gripping your hip. You feel his claws on your stomach, just barely poking the skin, ready to draw blood. “I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” he murmurs. “Why don’t I show you?”

You glance back over your shoulder and look at him with absolute desire and lust, nodding fervently. “Yes, daddy, please.” Your breath hitches as Jack’s hips sharply dart forward, filling you and stretching you almost painfully as his sheer size envelopes your form entirely. He’s still inching inside of you - you haven’t even reached his knot yet - and your arms almost wobble down on the coffee table as he piles you into it.

“Silly girl,” he tuts as he loosely backs up his hips and shallowly thrusts in again, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure. “You’re always gonna be mine.”

You’re not even able to challenge the notion because he begins to absolutely ravage you. You feel like you’re stretched almost impossibly wide as he fucks you against the table, his breath picking up and becoming something more feral as you become a toy, an object, as he uses you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you rest your cheek against the cool glass, chest pushing against it and leaving marks as you grip as tightly as you can onto the opposite edge of the table.

Jack begins to grit things in a language you don’t understand under his breath as he thrusts into you harder, his veiny cock pulsing inside of you as he drives in deeper and deeper. His balls slap against your clit, bringing you that much closer as he ruthlessly uses you. Judging by his tone, you assume he’s insulting you. “Fucking whore,” he seethes as he pulls you harder and harder against him, muscles tensing and all cares of breaking the coffee table being thrown out the window.

The tall, muscular, grey skinned man leans over you and begins to harshly breathe in your ear, his teeth nipping at the shell as he rolls his hips into you harder. The sound makes thick, meaty claps, almost sending you flying forward from the sheer force but him holding you back anchored you. “I can’t believe you’d even look at another man this way,” he continues in that same language, his lips and teeth leaving your ear and to your neck, nibbling before finally roughly biting down and sucking. It’s going to bruise. When he detaches, he harshly whispers to you again. “Wanton and waiting for someone else other than me, what the fuck were you thinking?” Jack harshly questions before biting yet again into your neck, his claws drawing the faintest of blood that drips like rubies down your skin.

You cry out in that same pleasurable and painful ecstasy and weakly meet his thrusts, barely able to think through the sheer force of him. “I-I-I’m sorry!” You cry out as one of his hands reaches your clit, fingering it as his balls continue to slap against it, making your legs wobble. “I’m sorry for making you mad, daddy!” You exclaim, finding yourself cut off with how his hand leaves your clit and snakes back up to your mouth. His fingers are coated in your juices and his - and he forces your mouth open.

“Lick them clean,” he harshly demands, hips still smacking against you. His length twitches every now and then, and the drag of his piercings feels so delicious against your stretched out walls.

You mumble against his fingers and lick your tongue on him, careful not to cut yourself on his talons as he shoves them deeper into your mouth. You suck on them, closing your eyes once more and feel tears well within them simply from the overload of pleasure.

When Jack pops his now clean fingers out of your mouth, he lifts you like you’re weightless and pops you off his cock, thoroughly amused at your bewildered expression before he plops you back down onto the coffee table, your legs still spread wide open from him, cunt still aching and hungry, absolutely needy for him to fill you to your brim.

The glass feels cool against your back as you realize he’s flipped you over. Your chest doesn’t feel as cramped anymore, so that’s nice. You’re barely afforded a moment with your thoughts before Jack is planting his hands on your left side and the other cups under your ass, lifting you slightly before pushing his thick, veiny cock back inside of you.

And you see it.

He’s building your lower abdomen out just from hsi size alone, and the thought, the image, the feeling, it makes you moan out again. Heat spreads over your entire body as Jack roughly works you up again, his cock bulging your stomach and weeping precum as you tighten your legs around his waist in vain, attempting to grasp onto something - anything to anchor yourself.

Your heart rate is flying, racing and your breaths are just picking up. You almost forget to breathe when Jack is back at the crook of your neck, biting, nipping and sucking, his tongues traveling over your slightly salty sweet skin like salt water taffy as you come closer and closer to breaking.

“Come on,” he hisses, hips roughly thrusting into you, making you gasp each time. “Squirt for me. Make daddy happy,” he continues, accenting each word with an even harsher thrust, stealing your breath each time. He grabs your wrist when you attempt to play with your clit and chides you with a snarl before finally rubbing you in a way that brings you over your edge.

You scream as his knot finally pushes past your bruised, puffy lips and practically becomes swallowed whole. The pain turns to pleasure as tears well in your eyes as you release all over him, sweet fluid splashing all over you and Jack as you vice grip his knot.

Jack pants out as he ruts into you as you squirt all over him, his knot still pushing into you with such hunger, filling you so much further than what you think is possible before he curls against you, his large form wrapping around you as he roars, releasing thick, creamy, white hot liquid into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, Reader, fuck,” he sneers like a mantra, hips weakly bucking against you, still very much connected by the knot as he continues to unload oceans of the warm, creamy liquid into you.

You feel tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer pleasure as you wrap your legs around his waist even tighter, nails raking against his back as you mumble his name and take in his deep scent. He’s otherworldly. You don’t even mind that Jack is still lighty rutting into you as he continues releasing, teeth bared and eyes shut in the pleasure your body is giving him.

When he finally empties himself fully into you, he breathes out deeply and rests his forehead against you, gently, tenderly, sweetly.

You feel hot, much too hot, and the only thing keeping you cool is the glass of the coffee table. You attempt to move off of him, to somewhere more comfortable when you wince in pain. “Ow! What is that?” You grumble as your eyes glance down to where Jack still remains buried inside of you.

He sighs out and follows your gaze. “Knot,” he states simply. “It’s gonna hurt-” He’s barely able to even get the words out as you’re already working on getting him out of you, wincing and hissing at the pain as you remove yourself off the thick, bulbous knot. Tears once again well in your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation, and Jack’s shaking his head as if to say ‘what did you expect?’

“I swear,” he mumbles as his thumbs gently wipe away your tears, not even noticing how his creamy cum pools down your legs and practically creates a waterfall onto the coffee table and onto his once immaculately clean floor. “Don’t force it out next time,” he grumbles as he slowly stands up, stretching slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologize, mind still hazy from the pleasure.

Jack relents and picks you up like you weigh nothing, already subtly checking if you’re hurt in any way from him and the rough coffee table. “It’s whatever,” he hums, holding you in his arms, simultaneously pleased and displeased with how harsh he was. But at least you smell like him. “C’mon, let me take care of this,” he offers, gesturing to the scrapes, cuts and bruises that are blooming on your body due to him.

Not wanting to say anything, you sleepily smile up at him and burrow into his chest. You look up at him.

“What?”

You yawn slightly. “Was I a good girl?” You ask playfully, resting your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat pick up.

Jack chuckles quietly. “You sure were.”

“Did I make daddy happy?”

Jack purrs slightly as your fingers brush against his cheek. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

[its-me-im-coraline]

NSFW Alphabet // Ethan Torchio

words // 2383

warnings // smut, clearly its nsfw headcannons

pairing // Ethan Torchio x GN!Reader (might be mentions that seem like they are for f reamer but comeon theres lingerie for every body 👁️👄👁️)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. an apology to the people on my tag list i think i accidentally have not been tagging you this whole time i am so so so sorry omg

request // yes, it was a reblog i cant find it right now

summary // self explanatory

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Regarding you, Ethan is the king of after care. As rough as he can be in bed, that’s just how sweet he can be once you're done with it. Goes full on dad mode (don’t know how else to explain this). He will have water, painkillers if you’re now in pain, a washcloth to clean you up, new clothes, and of course the cuddles.

“I’m alright, Ethan. I can do it on my own,” you say as Ethan walks to you with the wet cloth ready to clean the mess he made on your body.

“I know you can, amore. I just want to take care of you,” he says as he leaves a kiss on your lips.

I can also see him being the one to make a big fat breakfast the morning after, or at least get up early to pick something up.

Now I also feel that he is in need of some aftercare. It depends on the day really, if he’s had a pretty rough day and all I feel like he’d ask for some backrubs after. In this case he’d fall asleep so quickly like omg. But on the biggest part I see him feeling the need to reassure you that the things he said (i think we already established that this man would call you a slut) are not how he feels about you and will be asking if you feel the same.

“Do you love me?”

“Wha- of course I do, Ethan! Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know… I guess - I guess I am worried that you don’t after what I said.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to himself I feel like he really likes his chest and arms. Like I don’t know but I see him really getting off with you pretty much mastubating on his chest. Ya know what I mean? (i think you do you little sluts). He pretty much enjoys anything you do on his chest. I can imagine him looking at the mirror after you two had sex, seeing the cum on his chest along with the marks you have left and just smiling.

“What are you looking at, love?” You ask, seeing as the man is standing in front of the bathroom mirror from your spot on the hotel bed.

“Nothing, just the mess you made.”

“Mhm, and I bet you like it, huh?”

“You have no idea… Hey, are you sure you got tired? Cause I think I can do another round.”

As for his arms, as I said, he simply really enjoys that he can man handle you anytime, get you in any position he likes and feel you scratching them from the pleasure.

When it comes to you, Ethan is an ass guy. Say what you want but the man is an ass guy, end of discussion. He loves anything that involves your but. It does not explicitly have to be something like anal. He simply enjoys seeing your butt and holding it in his hand. It does not matter if it’s big or not, if it has stretch marks or whatever. Wear lingerie that he likes or that itty bitty teeny weeny bikini if you wear them or even some tight pants that make your butt just poìp and he can not contain himself.

I think I have said that to someone here (i think I had sent an ask to zodi @ icouldbeyourputtet) before but I feel like this man is very into spanking, like not even the rough malicious way. but this very wholesome chill way.

You had been talking about it all day, not having had a minute alone with each other for days, you could only dream what you could do that night after everyone left.

A playlist was playing in the background and a cigarette was burning on the ashtray next to your legs, you assuming a similar position, as said cigarette, bent over Ethan’s lap as he caressed your ass cheeks and back, playing around with the lingerie set he had gifted you a while back. (Did I just go to search my fave porn vid, lol exposing myself, and get disappointed because I can’t find it and translate it into fanfiction? yes yes i did, so bare with what i can remember)

“It’s okay, baby, you can take a little more, come on,” he praised, leaving a spank and yet another soft rub on the very red cheek.

He continued, going with the music, a very nice pattern, not very rough spanks but just enough to cause pain, pleasure and redness all over. Accidentally the man landed a few very rough ones causing a gasp and a series of giggles as you practically fell off his lap.

“Ethan, what the hell?” You laughed getting up from the floor and this time sitting on the man’s lap, sharing kisses with him.

“What,” he copied your action and laughed, “it was not intentional. I got carried away by how nice your butt is.”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He is and is not messy. He will not want the cum to be in every surface possible you know, he will be careful but at the same time this man just loves to see his cum on you, whether it’s your back or your stomach, or in you if you’re ok with it. I bet he has a teeny weeny breeding kink but not necessarily because of the idea of breeding you but rather because he looooves seeing his cum run out of you… I'm not sure if this falls in the breeding kink category but alright

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to fuck you while watching porn.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like he is pretty experienced. From what they band has said in interviews and stuff, he seems to be getting some pretty often (no one, NO ONE, is surprised at that). He is not acting arrogant tho (not unless that’s the dynamic of the night), he is willing to learn what works for you and you specifically

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As I said this man is an ass guy so I’d say anything that involves having the view of your ass. Humor me but i think he’d really like 69 with a female/afab partner (don’t know if this works very well with two dick-baring people lol). It has it all, eating you out,

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think it can be both with him. He will not exactly try to make jokes but if something like the previously mentioned spanking incident happens it’s def welcome.

Now as a general rule I see him being pretty serious. I will be honest, I’m getting brat tamer vibes from this man so it’s all pretty serious when you really get into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering he’s an Italian man and if you look at a lot of photos of him he def fit the ‘mediterenean’ man type. I see him just barely grooming. I don’t see him really shaving or whatever but he also wouldn’t want you to choke on pupic hair, he much rathers you choke on his dick

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It all depends, really. He can be quite intimate with you but it all depends on the moment. There are different occasions for everything. For example, and this is a paradox that I hope I’m explaining well enough to understand, he is not very rough (will not be very aggressive and stuff, like to the extreme those tik tok boys want to pretend they are with their * growling * ew) but he will be rough. intimidating looks, spanking just enough to make you feel pain and redden up your ass cheeks. He’s like that mostly when you are being bratty.

Most of the times, like we’re talkin kind of lazy sex moments, it more wholesome ig, like very intimate and just comfortable and almost comforting. Ok, but like why do i see him having sex and having casual conversation (not the most common, i see this as like lazy day off, having nothing else to do and not being like super horny but being more like h o r n y … am i making sense?)

Setting the scene, you two are at home, both have a day off but it’s kind of raining so any of your plans are ruined. At this point it’s at around 10 am, not early, not late. You have missed each other and both have made it obvious but you are both in a very tired state so you opt for something not too much.

Plain and simple missionary is what goes around this time, Ethan on top just holding your legs around his waist,, going at a pretty medium pace.

“It’s a pity the weather is bad today,” says Ethan staring out the window.

“I know, we were going to go to the beach… I’m bummed about it,” you say, short of breath as the man continues his pace fucking you.

“Mhm, true. But this is better, amore, no? I’ve missed you so much,” he breaths out the last part, moans interrupting his words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does that pretty often, especially if you are not around to help. Sometimes it’s because of you that he needs to. I would def see him exchanging naked pics with you and at first he does that to tease you but he ends up teased when he sees a video you sent of you masturbating.

Bets that he’d be taking photos and vids of you fucking on occasion so he goes to these when he misses you on tour.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As I mentioned previously I see Ethan to be a brat tamer. That I see to be the main kink that kind of works around everything else.

“Can you stop this, slut? It has gotten exhausting. I told you no noise but here you are,” he ordered, looking down at you trembling below his finger tips.

His face was quite stoic, voice never wavering from the strict and cold tone he tended to have when scolding you on the daily. Most times it was leaving a cup out of the sink but this time the scolding came from misbehaving. As if it was not enough that he was punishing you for being a brat and riling him up all morning, now you had to disobey orders. It was getting to him for sure.

“I’m sorry daddy,” you whisper, Ethan seeming satisfied with the response.

“Aw, why so tame puppy, now you decide to be nice?” His tone stayed the same, his words imitating a joke but the whole ordeal was not even close to it.

Now as for other kinks (did I open a site because I could not think? yes, shut up), as a result of being a brat tamer dom there are some few more kinks accompanying specifically that. He is def into bondage, both tying you up but also being tied up on occasion.

“Puppy, I have told you that is not a way to treat me. Untie me,” he says calmly, wrists tied on the headboard of the bed, eyes fixated to you.

“Well, why not? You do it all the time,” you whine, placed on all fours, facing Ethan as you lean towards him on your hands, “I want in on the fun.”

If only he was not tied… Ethan’s mind was already going places, figuring out exactly how he would punish you after you untie him -or after he escapes the restrains, whatever comes first. You knew that, very well - in all honestly that was the plan, that is always the plan.

“Amore, let me go. Let me go and your punishment will be tame,” he voiced looking at you, now positioned on top of his lap, touching yourself right then and there.

“I sense you want to be punished puppy, don't you?” You simply nod your head, eyes closed in pleasure.

“You see, the problem is you will not enjoy what I am thinking.”

“Mhmn.”

“Well, get yourself off now that you can, cause after I get my hands on you… You’re not getting to cum for days, amore.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, anywhere. I can see him having a preference to the luxury of either of your houses or a hotel room but if you push his buttons just right, some restaurant’s bathroom it is.

why can i imagine him having sex at a weeding venue’s bathroom….. omg…..

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Honestly, both. I feel like he would be extremely good at giving it, but would never opposed to receiving

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s ok with them but he doesn’t love them, ya know?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

Is surely try to do new things but it will always depends on what it is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Come on. This goes without saying. He is a drummer for a living. He can surely go on for long…

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I def feel like he has a fair amount of toys. Some for himself, some for you… He looooves using them to punish you.

(small mention to my last fic little puppet)

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A ton! It’s his specialty. Maybe one of his most common punishments is edging and teasing. He can drag it on for days

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is not very loud but is surely encouraging you to be.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost

[montrealmadison]

t'étais réel parce qu'il t'aimait

or, “you were real because he loved you”

i work at a place that accepts children’s book donations, so when “the velveteen rabbit” came across my desk the other day, the beginnings of this popped into my head. then the lovely lau at @weneedtotalkaboutfic​ posted this and also this about ftm!bitty and my brain just took off! enjoy <3

“Has her fever gone down?”

Bitty blows out a long breath and twists around to look at the clock, on the off chance that it’ll give him a better answer than the truth—but all it tells him is that it’s 8:07, and he’s exhausted.

“No.” He pins the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he can dry his hands. “Hasn’t budged all day.”

On the other end, his mama hums sympathetically. “It will, baby. Y’all are doin’ everything right.”

“Thanks,” he sighs, folding the dishtowel over the oven handle. “It’s just—I hate that she’s so uncomfortable.”

Bitty used to think that he’d made his peace with chaos. He’s moved schools, changed sports, reinvented himself half a hundred times. He’s come out on national television and transitioned publicly on the Internet. He’s written a book, is in the process of drafting another. He’s married to one of the most prominent NHL players in the league, for crying out loud.

But sick toddlers, Bitty is learning, are a whole other hockey game.

read more below or on ao3

Thankfully, at least the kitchen routine is muscle memory at this point: pots dried, dishwasher started, dog fed and watered for the night. The mess in here isn’t too bad, all things considered. He checks the lock on the back door and then lets himself sag against the counter, just a little. It’s been a day. A week, really. He's barely slept for the stress of it all.

“Dicky, honey, you sound like you need a break.” He can picture the frown on his mama’s face when she says it. Funny how her voice still feels like a hug from seven states away. “How’s Jack? Is he alright?”

“Mhm,” he says. “Upstairs puttin’ Ellie to bed, bless him.”

“Good. Well, listen, y’all call anytime if you need us, alright? Your daddy and I will be up, we’re goin’ to the Callahans’.”

“Ooh. Save the good gossip for me?”

“You know I will,” Mama promises with a laugh. “Now go on and sit down for me. I love you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Love you too,” Bitty says, almost absently, and flops onto the couch as the line clicks into silence.

He tries to relax—promise, he really does—but he only makes it about five minutes before the worry wins out and he has to get up again. He just can’t sit still today, especially when he hasn’t heard anything from upstairs in so long. He climbs the stairs and starts down the hall towards Giselle’s room, but pauses and peeks around the doorframe at the soft sound of Jack’s voice.

In the dim light, he can just make out Jack’s giant form carefully folded to fit into Ellie’s bed, one foot planted firmly on the floor to keep him balanced. Bitty presses a hand over his mouth, trying to resist the sudden urge to laugh at the sight of his husband trying to fit in a bed made for a toddler. Thankfully, it works, because neither Jack nor Giselle notice him—their daughter’s curled up next to her papa, tired and sleep-soft, with her flushed little face on Jack’s chest and her slow-blinking eyes fixed on the book in his hands.

The dog’s on the floor in here, too, tail thumping away against the carpet. He huffs, looks up at Bitty with big, understanding eyes as if to say: We got it in here.

Which is clearly the case—they’re already in the middle of a story. Jack is reading in soft, measured tones: “And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.”

It's the French translation, but Bitty feels himself melt almost immediately. He’d recognize The Velveteen Rabbit anywhere. It’d been his favorite as a baby, part of the reason his mama had come home one day with Señor Bun, and—well, the rest is Bittle family history. He leans in the doorway, closes his eyes and drifts while Jack reads.

He’s had a lot of time, now, to learn the differences between French Jack and English Jack, and why each language is important to him—especially where teaching his children is concerned. In French, his voice is softer, lilting, expressive in a way that transfixes Giselle and Bitty alike. Bitty himself has fallen asleep to the sound of that voice many times, and is mostly impressed that Ellie can still fight her own exhaustion just to listen a little longer.

Jack turns the page, and Bitty watches as his face and his voice soften with emotion at the next line: “And then, one day, the Boy was ill.”

Oh. Bitty remembers this part well, too—remembers the feeling of his own mama curled around him when he was sick as a kid. Remembers Coach’s shadow in the doorway, his quieter concern, his gentle hand on Bitty’s shoulder. Jack goes on: “But the Rabbit snuggled down patiently, and looked forward to the time when the Boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to.”

Bitty remembers Señor Bun, equally patient, snuggled up under his chin, and has an idea. He backs quietly out of the room and retreats down the hall to their bedroom, where the bunny himself is propped on the pillows, waiting for them to come to bed. Bittly inhales the familiar scent of the fabric, looks into his bright embroidered eyes. He swears they look understanding somehow.

“You ready to work your magic, buddy?” he asks. “Let’s go.”

Jack does notice him this time, eyes crinkling in acknowledgment when he sees Bitty in the doorway. His voice is getting softer now, the words slowing in time with Giselle’s blinks, and Bitty crosses the room to lay Señor Bun in their daughter’s arms.

Neither of them move until they’re sure that Giselle is asleep at last; even then, Jack extracts himself from the bed as quietly as possible, smoothes the covers over her with a feather-light touch. When they meet in the hallway, Jack presses his face into Bitty’s neck. They stand there in the quiet, breathing together, for a long time.

“How is she?” Bitty finally asks.

“Hot,” Jack says, frowning. “I gave her another Tylenol.”

Bitty sighs deep, presses his forehead into Jack’s chest. “Mm, okay. Let’s hope she kicks this soon.”

“She will,” says Jack. “She’s our kid, that’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Despite himself, Bitty finds that a smile comes easily enough. It always does with Jack’s reassurance. “Gotta be tough in this family.”

Jack laughs lightly. “Yeah.”

They retreat to their bedroom, turning off lights as they go. Their nighttime routine, too, is as comfortable as breathing now. When Bitty comes back from brushing his teeth, he finds Jack in bed, reading glasses on, still flipping through The Velveteen Rabbit.

“I’m glad you picked that one for her,” says Bitty slowly. “That was my favorite book as a kid.”

Jack turns it over in his hands, looks up at Bitty with warmth in his eyes. “This one?” he asks, smiling. “That explains Señor Bun, eh?”

“Yeah.” Bitty has to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat, and almost immediately finds himself blinking back hot tears. He bites his lip. “Well, and I, um—no, it’s stupid.”

“Bits?” says Jack, concerned. He closes the book and sits up. “Hey, no it’s not. Why else was it important?”

Bitty looks down. “I used to want to be Real,” he says, all in a rush. “Just like the Rabbit. Used to wish there’d be a fairy that would see how unhappy I was, and come and—oh, Lord—”

It’s like a switch flips in his brain; all of a sudden he’s crying in earnest, days of pent-up stress and fear rushing past the floodgates at once. Jack makes a soft sound and holds Bitty close, letting him cry it out, rocking him just a little. His hands are big and warm on Bitty’s back.

“Shh, bud, hey,” he says. “That’s not stupid at all.”

Bitty sniffles and scrubs at his eyes, lets out a burst of slightly hysterical laughter. “I—God. I don’t know what it is, I was looking at you and Ellie and—I don't know, I just wish the person I was when I first read it could see me now. I wish that little kid hadn’t had to go through all the shit I did to get here.”

Jack doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls back a little. Bitty looks up, confused—but Jack’s just reaching behind him to grab the book off his nightstand, flipping through it until he finds the page he wants. Then he puts an arm back around Bitty’s shoulders and pulls him close, kisses his temple.

“Generally,” he reads, in English this time, “by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”

He fixes Bitty with those bottomless blue eyes. "I hope you'll let me keep telling you," he says slowly, "that it all meant something, bud. You made yourself real. You gave us our daughter."

Bitty laughs, watery. "I did."

"You did." Jack kisses him again, soft and full of meaning. "And I promise I'll never stop trying to understand."

[littlefreya]

August’s NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: Explicit Smut, graphic depictions of rough sex, daddy kink, creampies, bondage and mentions of bodily fluids and August being August.

** I give no permission to copy my work, translate it and repost it **

N/A: He’s dirty, he’s hot, he’ll fuck you till you drop (that doesn’t really rhyme). I got a request to do the NSFW Alphabet and the dudette abides! This was really fun, I think Walter is up next!

August Walker’s NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

August takes aftercare seriously. Being a rough Dom he doesn’t want his princess to slip into depression. A warm bubble bath is due, with him lathering your hair and massaging your aching limbs. He invests in buying luscious bath bombs and fancy props he gathers you’d enjoy. After the bath, he wraps you in a fresh towel and carries you to bed where he begins to take care of each part of your body he hurt. Small butterfly kisses crisp your supple skin, his moustache tickles lightly, lulling you into a deep slumber.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Obviously, August loves his cock and thinks it’s nature’s gift to women. When it comes to you, he’s obsessed with your ass, loves to grab it in public to assert ownership, he squeeze it firmly and grind his aching bulge at the cleft of your ass, always letting you know he is ready to go

He calls your ass a piece of heaven on earth and oh, of course, you’re going to feel a spank or two when he’s pounding into you from behind. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A huge fan of creampies. He loves to come inside, he ain’t doing rubber so you better be strict with your birth controls. Nothing makes him sicker with pride than watching his thick cum drip down your wobbly legs. It can easily get him hard all over again and you blush with horror as you hear the camera’s click as he snaps a shot of your knees up and thighs spread open, showing your cunt full of his jizz.  

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You mean aside from the fact that he is an anarchist? Well, August might have a collection of homemade porn videos. He loves to tape himself having sex with random girls. Has a whole drawer of them. Loves to watch them every now and then to get himself off. Even after he began dating you he kept them and yes, he is trying to convince you into doing all sort of stuff for him on cam.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

August is basically the king. He fucked more women than he can remember. Lost his virginity with an older woman who taught him quite a lot.

He’s a Dom by nature, mastering different tricks and ever-exploring his darkest sexual fantasies. He definitely knows what he is doing and he has heaps of patience. It’s his greatest virtue, knowing how to torture you just enough till you’re practically begging him to fuck you.  

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy-style. He has full access to spanking your ass and squeezing it hard enough to leave bruises. Loves to watch his thick cock entering your body while his hand fists your hair. He ruts into your body back and forth, tugging you back against him, preferably in front of the mirror, so he can look into your eyes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Dead serious. If he smiles it’s definitely patronizing or sinister, to scare you and let you know he will always have the upper hand. He enjoys cooing at you while you’re a whimpering mess, making fun of how weak and desperate you are. 

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Fuck no, he ain’t trimming, he is all hair in general. Which is pretty rude considering he loves your pussy completely waxed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

On one hand, he is never going to say he loves you. not even if once in every full moon he’ll make love to you through a whole night till you’re both crashing into one another. 

August is a man of actions and touch, and he’ll touch you in ways that make you feel completely stripped down to your soul while his eyes pierce deeply, letting you know you’re his baby.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As a Dom he says you are not allowed to touch yourself without his permission and if you do and he catches you, you are in for some punishment. He’s going to tie you up and watch you as he masturbates in front of you, slow and languid, groaning your name and then coming all over your torso. His finger dips into his own cum, collecting the pearly drops and slipping it into your mouth. 

He is a fan of mutual masturbation though, on facetime when he is gone on a mission, so always be ready for daddy’s call. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

One? This man is almost everything goes. His biggest kink is the purity one. His woman has to be “pure” and gentle, he gets off from the thought he is defiling you, unloading all his darkness into your sweet little cunny. Or maybe tonight he’ll just dress you in pink ribbons and enjaculate all over your face, just to mess you up. Among other kinks: Spanking, orgasm denial, knife play, bondage, choking, exhibition, size kink (loves it that you’re small, it makes him feel big and strong) praising and some really dirty words that he loves to whispers while deep inside you.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere you might get caught. Especially where you work, to make a statement, he doesn’t care if you’re loud, on the contrary, he might go extra hard on you. For some reason he fantasizes about fucking you in front of his boss quite often. This one time you nearly did, but he settled for fucking you over her desk, and left some bodily fluids all over that carpet.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you’re being a brat, yes he loves his princess, but when you’re a little stubborn bitch that’s when the fun begins. You know he is going to punish you for that and when punishment time comes, he gets creative. One time you wouldn’t let him work so he tied you to a bed and pushed a toy inside you, he left in on for hours while he was working, controlling the power with a tiny remote while remaining indifferent to your screams. 

Oh yeah, your screams, the second thing that makes him hard.

But generally speaking, he is so caught up with you that everything you do turns him on. He loves to ogle you when you’re just sitting by the window, reading a book or writing something. You’re his little angel. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s not into sharing. You’re his pure angel and no one is going to touch you but him. Doesn’t like stuff involving defecation/piss. He is grossed out by it.

Less into anal but willing to try if you’d be open for it.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to fuck your face, make you tear as you choke on his cock and come down your pretty little throat. He is also into eating you out. His moustache and those thick stubbles leave you red and raw and it’s that mixture of rough and the slow slithering of his tongue inside you that gives you the hardest orgasms. You’re half convinced he is keeping that stach for that.  

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

August fucks your like a high paid pornstar; rough and fast but not without style, he’s dominating, knowing how to move inside you just right, slowing down to increase the depth and then picking up a harder rhyme where his balls slap against your pussy. 

He does go slower sometimes but it’s still rough and forceful, leaving bruises all over your body. You love it...

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Every now and then when he’s angry at the world, he uses you like a fucktoy. Coming home, he spins and bends you over the table. Not bothering with your clothes. Your panties are wrapped around your thighs and his hand is plasters your cheek to the wooden surface as he spits on his cocks and enters you with zero foreplay. 

Your scream is his favorite music.

Being so angry, he doesn’t care if you come, but you do anyway. You always do.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

August is all about experimenting but he has the meticulousness of a special agent and a man who loves to be in control. Breathplay? Sure, he might even get you to blackout, he doesn’t mind, but he’ll take precautions to not cause any damage, same with knife play and bondage. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He lasts long, he is patient and taught himself to hold back because he gets off from making you weak. August can easily take an entire night to mess you up, to a point you’d beg him to stop. You’re sore, you can’t take it anymore. He leaves you feeble, boneless but always makes sure to give you proper aftercare.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns a box of toys that he bought especially for you. As a part of very long foreplay he’d sometimes tie you up and begin stimulating and teasing you, fucking you with a vibrator while looking deep into your eyes and praising you.

You’re not allowed to touch the box without daddy’s permission but... can you help it when he’s gone all the time and you miss him?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Way too much. August loves to see you beg, he’ll take his time, bringing you to your knees, getting you close and denying your orgasm to the point of tears. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very loud, he doesn’t give a fuck who hears him, he is not ashamed and damn you love that voice he makes when he finally puts himself inside you. That guttural groan that just signifies how sweet you feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Violence gets him hard. Whether it’s hand to hand combat or killing someone. It’s a bit embarrassing, but not for him, for his colleague, seeing him get all worked up after beating some guy to a pulp. If he’s on a mission, well, tough, he’ll have to call you and masturbate while seeing you pose for him. If you’re at the same country as he is, expect him to come home and unload that pant up aggression into you. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

There is a reason why August is cocky and arrogant. He is not just BDE, he is huge and thick and he knows it. It hurts when he goes in, no matter how wet you are, but you live for that pain, it brings much pleasure.  

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Extreme, he is a sexual person, he loves to touch, he loves to be desired and he loves to desire you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away, as rough as he is, he makes sure you are properly taken care of after an ordeal. Your aftercare always comes first. 

________________________

[picnokinesis]

I love your fics! What are your genderqueer/genderfluid!Thirteen headcanons?

Ahh hello there!! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you like them! :D

I’m not sure if you’re asking about my headcanons for campervan au thirteen or canon thirteen, since they are slightly different, but I’ll share my thoughts about canon thirteen since I think that’s what you’re after. Although as an amusing sidenote, I mostly hc canon thirteen as agender (with some fluctuation), but campervan thirteen was very insistent that she was genderqueer and I wasn’t going to argue with her hahahahah

BUT YEAH I think you need to look at the Doctor as a whole to understand my thoughts about Thirteen and gender. So, in general, I think the Doctor has no idea what to do with gender and wouldn’t know one if it hit them in the face with a baseball bat. I reckon that gender for timelords is a bit like a sense of style or taste, and not really something that is fundamental to how they function as a society. And so then the Doctor hasn’t ever really thought about it, until they run away and start hanging out with a bunch of British humans, who have a very structured (and constrictive, as far as the Doctor is concerned) gender system, and these humans are like ‘ah yes, you are A Man’ and the Doctor’s probably just like ‘ok? sure whatever’ and doesn’t really think about it. But then the Doctor continues to look like a man for...a LONG time, and so then it’s only when Thirteen comes around that suddenly these humans, who have treated them as A Man for so long, are now like ‘oh, A Woman’ and the Doctor’s like ‘um. No?’ - because as far as they’re concerned, their gender hasn’t changed. Like, their whole body has changed, but...their whole body changes every time they regenerate, so they’re like ‘what is so different this time compared to every other time?’. And I feel like the Doctor was sort of peripherally aware of this whole gender thing, but it’s only when it starts to directly affect them that they’re like ‘oh. hm.’

And so then Thirteen probably has this moment of ‘I’m not a woman, but actually I don’t think I’ve ever been a man either.’ Pronoun wise, I think it’s a bit confusing because I hc that the Doctor is speaking in Gallifreyan a lot of the time, and the TARDIS is constantly translating (because it’s only written Gallifreyan that the TARDIS doesn’t translate). I think it’s quite likely that Gallifreyan wouldn’t have gendered pronouns, as such? I feel like that would make sense, since you’re talking about a race that 1) doesn’t have this structured gender binary in the same way and 2) people’s entire bodies change biologically twelve times in their entire lifetimes. So gendered pronouns would be linguistically obsolete for Time Lords - which means that moments such as in The Doctor’s Wife when the Doctor is talking about the Corsair and flounders a little over the pronouns is probably the TARDIS’s botched attempt to translate such a concept into English HAHA - but anyway, my point it that to an outside observer, the Doctor appears pronoun indifferent, and probably they are, but only because the gendered pronouns are sort of lost on them? Although they are aware of some of the language differences - case in point, The Ghost Monument (where the Doctor must have been speaking in English since the start of series 11 since no TARDIS = no Gallifreyan translation, and I doubt that the translator things that the fam get given would translate Gallifreyan) when thirteen fumbles over the “come to daddy...I mean mummy...”. They’re aware of these things, but they’re just sort of an inconvenience to them. I reckon they get just as frustrated with tenses when trying to speak in English because I reckon Gallifreyan would have a lot more. 

That said, I do feel like the Doctor experiences some gender fluctuation, as I said earlier, although I would definitely see the Master as genderfluid whereas the Doctor’s gender is the personification of a shrug. The Master’s gender is all over the place, but their gender presentation is definitely more of a performance, rather than an accurate portrayal of how they feel, if that makes sense? Ironically, the Master has a much more nuanced understanding of how humans see gender, and enjoys playing with it, whereas the Doctor has no clue what to do with it and just wants to feel comfortable. 

Regarding stuff like dysphoria, I think Thirteen mostly feels social dysphoria, because she’s been used to being treated and seen a certain way, and now she isn’t, and it’s both weird, unnecessary and somewhat distressing. But I also think she probably feels some physical dysphoria too - more so than she’d normally feel when she regenerates into a new body, and I think it would confuse her when it lingers. I think she deals with it mostly by sticking with her usual fashion style (see: the suit she wears in Spyfall, which I adore because it just radiates agender/enby vibes to me, and it’s one of the rare times I’ve experienced gender envy from someone who is afab HAHAHA). But then I also lowkey love the idea of her wearing a binder, or trying out they/them pronouns, or cutting her hair shorter - I feel like the main reason she doesn’t is because she doesn’t know this stuff is an option, or even that the reason she’s got this discomfort is because of that, and these things are the possible solution. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she thought her physical dysphoria was actually just a consequence of Twelve putting off the regeneration for so long, and so she isn’t quite settled right in her new body, as opposed to a gender thing. I would actually love to see her interact with more characters who knew her in previous regenerations - like more of Jack, or other characters, just because I think if they treated her different because she’s A Woman Now, she’d probably actually be able to say ‘ok what is with this? why is this a thing? my body has changed but I’m still the same, and this didn’t happen before, but actually I do feel this discomfort still what is with that???’ and the person would be like ‘ah. hm. how do I explain gender to an alien from a culture that views gender with the same level of importance and permanence as what kind of toppings you like on your pizza’

[expectingtofly]

My Darling, My Dearest, My Dear

1k dean/cas fic

also posted on AO3

The thought first strikes Dean one night while he’s watching Dr. Sexy M.D.

Dr. Sexy and Dr. Ellen Piccolo call each other “babe” about a hundred times in one episode and, while overdone as most aspects of the show tend to be, it makes Dean realize something.

“Hey, Cas,” he says as Castiel returns to their bedroom from a shower. “Why don’t we have pet names for each other?”

“We’re not pets?” Castiel says, standing in his underwear as he rubs a towel through his wet hair.

“No, pet names, names couples give each other.” Dean turns off the TV and throws the remote on the nightstand. “Like babe, or sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Castiel drapes his towel on the desk chair and climbs onto their bed on top of the covers. “I don’t know. Should we give pet names to each other?” He sits in front of Dean, straddling his legs.

“Well, why not?” Dean reaches out to grab Castiel’s hips and pull him closer. “We’re a couple aren’t we?”

Castiel smiles. “Yes, we are.” He kisses Dean, then tugs at his shirt. “Off.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean pulls off his shirt. “Impatient angel.”

Castiel takes Dean’s shirt and tosses it to the side. “Slow human.”

Dean sighs. “We’re not off to a very good start, are we?”

Their efforts at choosing pet names end there, both of them focused on the more pressing matters at hand, but the following morning they resume their efforts with greater vigor.

“Pass me the salt, babe,” Dean says. “No, that doesn’t feel right.”

Castiel hands him the shaker. “Here you go, honey.”

“That’s too cute.”

“We’re never going to come up with one if you keep saying that.”

Dean rolls his eyes and tosses salt onto the scrambled eggs he’s making at the stove. A stifled laugh makes him spin around to see Sam standing in the kitchen doorway.

“How long have you been standing there?” Dean demands.

Sam pushes himself off the doorframe and walks over to the coffee pot. “Long enough to wonder what the hell is wrong with you two.”

“We’re trying to pick pet names for each other,” Castiel says before Dean can shoot him a warning look. “It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

“Doesn’t Dean call you buddy?” Sam sits at the table with his coffee mug.

“That’s not much of a pet name,” Dean says. “I can call anyone that.”

“You can, but you won’t,” Castiel frowns at him. “Sugar,” he adds.

“Nope.” Dean scrapes the eggs onto a plate and sits at the table across from Sam. “Pass me a fork, Angel Eyes.” He looks at Castiel expectantly and Castiel only stares blankly back at him.

“Is that a reference to something?” He hands Dean a fork and sits next to him.

Dean groans. “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly?” Castiel shrugs. “Why do I even bother showing you the classics?” He digs into his breakfast. “Sunshine.”

“Flower.”

“Dear,” Sam suggests.

“I’m not a fucking housewife,” Dean says. “How about Baby? No, that’s just wrong.”

“I’m not your car, Dean,” Castiel says.

“No, but you ride like—wait, no, I can drive you—”

Sam clears his throat loudly and Castiel shakes his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It got the point across. Lovebug. Shit! None of these work!”

“You’re trying too hard, Blondie,” Castiel says.

Dean points at him in excitement. “I knew it! I knew you remembered the movie!” Castiel grins.

But Blondie doesn’t seem to do the trick, so they continue trying new names as the day progresses. They even enlist the help of Jack, who googles pet names and rattles off a list which includes such monstrosities—Dean’s phrasing—as pookie, boo, and main squeeze.

Things go quickly awry when Jack tries to explain the word “bae,” causing Dean to grow more distraught. Castiel insists “Love” is suitable, but Dean refuses on principle, saying he’ll be damned before he sounds like one of those stuck-up British Men of Letters.

They dive into other languages: mi amor, cariño, mon petit chou chou. That last sends Jack into peals of laughter when he learns its translation.

“Why can’t I call you Angel?” Dean asks as Jack continues laughing. “It’ll have two meanings, it’s clever.”

“But then what should I call you? Human? That’s too strange.” Castiel looks over Jack’s shoulder at the laptop screen. “Baby Daddy.”

“No,” Sam speaks up from across the map table where he sits with his laptop.

“Gotta agree with Sam on that one.” Dean sits next to Jack. “Partner.”

“Mate.”

“I don’t think you guys are meant to use pet names,” Jack says.

“Jack has a point,” Sam agrees.

Dean waves him off. “No, no, we’ll figure it out. What do you and Eileen call each other?”

Sam reddens. “We don’t call each other anything. We’re not even dating.”

“Jack, tell Sam to stop being a wuss and ask Eileen out already.”

“Sam, you should stop being a wuss and ask Eileen out already,” Jack parrots.

Sam shuts his laptop and leans back in his chair. “So I’ve heard.”

“How about something in Enochian?” Castiel suggests, moving to stand behind Dean and wrap his arms loosely around his neck.

“Will I be able to pronounce it?”

Castiel sighs. “Probably not.”

“Then I don’t see how that’s helpful, honeybear.” Dean leans his head back to look at Castiel.

“That has potential.”

“It really doesn’t,” Jack says.

They continue experimenting with different names throughout dinner, deciding if one pet name doesn’t do the trick, several might, along with a healthy dose of adjectives.

“Thank you for making dinner, my glowing, cheerful, obstinate honeybee,” Castiel says.

“You’re very welcome, my winged, dorky, uptight loverboy,” Dean replies.

“Those words make sense individually,” Sam says.

“Maybe Jack was right,” Dean admits as he pulls back the covers on their bed that night. “Why do we need pet names anyway? So we can act like some TV couple? It’s gonna take a whole lot more than nicknames to make that happen.”

“Nicknames have to happen naturally anyway,” Castiel says, getting into bed next to Dean. “We can’t force it.”

“Right.” Dean puts his arm around Castiel and pulls him closer. “Goodnight my fluorescent, iridescent sunbeam from Heaven.”

He knows Castiel is fighting back an explanation of why those words don’t make sense together so Dean kisses him as a distraction and settles onto his pillow. “Night, Cas.”

Castiel nestles against him. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Who needs pet names when he has an angel who says his name like that?

Tagging: @spnwaywardone​ @good-things-do-happen-dean​ @becky-srs​

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics :)

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Three [Pt. 1]

Part Eighty-Three [Pt. 2]

A/N: There's 2 parts to this chapter because the post was way long. Part Eighty-Four will be posted tomorrow night. I love yall and hope you enjoy, goodnight!!

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: Explicit language, drug abuse, violence, verbal abuse, domestic abuse, explicit sexual situations

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"The ambulance is on the way." I hear someone say over the noise of the running water and the blood throbbing in my ears from my mind racing. 

My heart feels like it's about to burst, my lungs feel flat, like they don't have the muscle to expand and let me catch my breath. 

Duff's t-shirt that I'm wearing is soaked with freezing cold water, Nikki's grayish-yellow skin now blue… 

We've been trying to get him to wake up. 

Slash is passed out, being knocked out by his girlfriend, Sally, once he realized what was happening and had a drunk meltdown. 

Me, Sally, Duff and Steven get Nikki from the cold shower and get him back in the living room floor, tearing at his shirt and the buttons fly off. 

"Holy shit." Steven says just under his breath as I go to start cpr but I'm stopping when my hands hit something like ice.

I quickly see what it is and I nearly fall back. 

It's my crucifix that I thought I had lost when I left it in Duff's hotel room a couple months ago…

TWELVE HOURS AGO

"Nikki's getting home later than the rest of the guys." Karen informs me as I finish wiping down the kitchen counter. 

"Why?" I ask and she sighs. 

"He told me he missed the flight." 

"Of course he did." I mumble and she sighs. 

"Well, after that stunt he pulled, I'm surprised he's even getting to come home." She states and I furrow my brows. 

"What stunt?"

"Doc didn't tell you?" 

"No?"

"...Nikki and the guys were on a bullet train and something riled Nikki up and he threw a bottle of Jack at a window and it busted and got all over the passengers, then when they got stopped and the cops got ahold of him, Tommy punched one of them so they'd take him, too." She explains. 

Am I surprised, no. Shocked, no. Disappointed, no. Annoyed? Yes. 

"They are so freaking embarrassing." I sneer to myself.

"Oh, the worst part is what he told the police chief, in Doc's words, 'if my balls were on your chin, where would my dick be?'" 

I widen my eyes, blinking slowly. 

"He said the man couldn't understand exactly what he said so the translator told him Nikki said he was very sorry and they got off." She adds.

"Of course they did." 

She just looks at me for a moment before letting out a soft breath. 

"Vivian, do you think...even the slightest chance you two can--"

"--If there was a chance, I would've gone to Japan with them." I tell her.

She's quiet. 

"I need to feed the dog." I say to her, dismissively, and as if on cue, Whisky is darting in here. "Hey, baby!" I pipe, excitedly, still feeling Karen's gaze on me before she steps out of the kitchen. "Mommy's trying not to kill Daddy." I tell him, pouring his food in his bowl. "She's really trying."

A couple hours later, I'm putting makeup on to go meet Duff when the phone starts ringing. 

"Hello?" I answer it in the bedroom, sitting on the bed. 

"Hey, beautiful, it's Robbin." I hear from the other side and I roll my eyes, chuckling. 

"Hey, beautiful, what's up?" I reply in the same tone. 

"Nothin'." He replies. "I was wondering if your daddy was home, yet?" He asks in reference to Nikki and I scoff. 

"My father is at home with my mother, probably praying or reading the Bible or secretly listening to The Cult records in the garage." I reply. 

"You know who I'm talking about, c'mon." He laughs. 

"No, Robbin, your boyfriend isn't home yet." I tell him. 

"Do you know when he will be?"

"Not too long from now, probably."

"Well, when he gets in, tell him to gimme a call." 

"I might not be here but I'll leave a note." 

"Where you going?" He asks. 

"Out."

"With who?" 

"Robbin."

"Why don't you ever come see me anymore? I haven't hung out with you in months." 

"Because I don't party and that's all you like to do at night." 

"Well, bring your ass with Sixx when he comes tonight."

"Robbin--"

"--Please, for me?" 

"I'll think about it, alright?" 

"Okay, just don't forget to get him to call me." He reminds me and I nod.

"I will."

"See you later...maybe." 

"Later."

We hang up and I groan and fall back on the bed, looking at myself in the mirrored ceiling, before calling Duff to postpone our plans by a couple hours so I can go hangout with Nikki and Robbin.

Once I'm dressed, I fall back on the bed, waiting for Nikki to get in…

I turn over on my stomach and reach for the little radio clock on his side of the bed, my finger pulling the switch on. 

Dopey Christmas music filters through the room and I turn it back off, sighing. 

Whisky jumps up on the bed with me and I sit up so he doesn't lick my makeup off, giggling at his happy-go-lucky demeanor, but something's off in his eyes. 

"He'll be back tonight, baby." I promise, scratching at his chin. "I miss him, too, you know? I know that's hard to believe but I do." I admit to him and he blinks at me. "And if you tell anybody, I won't give you table scraps anymore." I add, the corners of my mouth tugging. 

I kiss his head, leaving a smudge of lipstick and I wince, forgetting I even had the stuff on. 

"Oops." I go to the bathroom and get a wet washcloth, srubbing it off his fur as best as a I can. 

That's when I hear the door open and slam, and I exhale, standing up, tossing the cloth aside and peeking my head out of the bedroom door to see if it's Karen or Nikki. 

"Hey," I say to him and he looks at me. 

He looks like absolute hell. 

"You can stop looking at me like that." He mumbles and I try to speak but can't find the words. 

"Sorry." I finally get it out and he goes to the bathroom and shuts the door. 

I hear the shower start and I thank God because he smells horrendous. 

I light a few scented candles while he's in there, trying to clear out the smell. 

Then I try to search his suitcase for drugs, to no avail. 

"I threw them out before I got to the airport." He says and I freeze up, sighing when he reaches past me and grabs the suitcase, tugging it to the floor before grabbing at my waist, making me turn around to face him. 

I just try to keep my expression neutral, not knowing if he's in a mood or not. 

"You smell better." I tell him to avoid an awkward silence as we're uncomfortably close. 

"Yeah, so do you." He replies and I roll my eyes, about to move out of his grasp. "Wait, wait, no, no, c'mere." He grabs at me tighter, holding me still, chuckling boyishly and I give a sharp breath. 

"You're high," I state, trying to nudge him away from me to give me some space. 

"Hey, I'm being nice." His expression shifts, eyes cutting at me, mouth snarling. 

"Nikki--"

"--No, when I'm pissed you get bitchy and when I'm in a good mood you get bitchy. You're just a fucking bitch. Always have been. Always will be." He snatches himself away, kicking the suitcase out of his way. 

"I'd rather be a bitch than a junkie." I reply as he goes to the bathroom and he's turning around in milliseconds. 

"Fuck you!" He shouts, grabbing my jaw, forcing my back down to the mattress, "fuck you, you condescending, manipulative, evil little witch!" He barks in my face and I keep myself as calm as I can, not wanting to make it worse. 

I shouldn't have even called him a junkie to begin with. 

I knew how he'd react. 

"Don't you ever call me that again, Vivian, do you fucking understand me?! I'm tired of it! I'm tired of your shit and your endless whining when I started shooting up because of you in the first fucking place and I keep shooting up just to escape from the reality that I'm fucking married to a twisted, sick, sneaky cunt like you!" 

My eyes water, a lump in my throat…

"Then divorce me." I let out weakly, my voice cracking. "If I'm so awful then just leave me, Nikki." 

He looks at me, tears in his own eyes, before he gets off of me and goes to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

NIKKI

I thought couldn't do that. Even when I was miserable with her, I was in love with her. That's contradictory to how I acted and treated her but it wasn't necessarily an endless doting, constant lovey-dovey, in love, thing. It was a poisonous, constant merry-go-round and anytime I would try to get off she'd pull me on again without even realizing it. She'd wear a hot dress, or laugh, or smile, or do something for me, or just say 'Nikki', and fuck, I'd be on her again. The Duff thing wasn't even on my mind that night. I got home, saw she was there, went inside and saw her and it took everything in me not to fall to my fucking knees...only for her to call me a junkie. I shouldn't have grabbed her like that, but at that point I was tired of the going around and around, spinning, dizzy, exhausted from puking...she wouldn't leave me. So I was trying to scare her off. 

I realized after my overdose that there was no scaring her off. She was as sick as I was, she needed help like I did, and until we got it we would still be on the ride. That's when I filed for divorce. I thought of it as my final, "I love you," because I really did it for her, knowing she wouldn't file after I OD'd. We were torturing ourselves at that point. We both needed to just get away from one another. And we did.

"You coming or not, Vivian, c'mon!" I call into the house when the car gets here, rolling my eyes as she takes her sweet, precious time, deliberately, staring me in the eye as she slowly steps to the door, her brow raised, red lips keeping restraint from curling at the sight of me. 

When she walks past, I'm tempted to rear back and hit her ass as hard as my hand can muster, just to see her look at me with her unamused, pissy little look she gives me when I'm being an asshole. 

We get in the back of the limo and she sits as far away from me as possible. 

It's silent on the way to town, the light flittering, through the windows in the back cast light over her face every now and then...we'd be in the floor tearing at clothes by now if this was three years ago. 

Fuck.

How the hell did we go from not getting enough of each other to fucking despising each other? 

Again, like I've been doing all year, I remind myself it's because I fucked up with Vanity.

I hope she doesn't tell Vivian I called her in Japan...It's  like I really miss her or anything, I was just lonely and Vivian wasn't taking my calls. 

She was under Duff, the demon in my ear laughs out and I look at Vivian again, seeing her quickly look away from me as if she'd get caught for staring. 

I wonder what she's thinking about right now...I wonder if she really has been with Duff this whole I haven't been home. 

Not that I have room to bitch, I spent my whole time in Japan with my head in drugs--which might as well be a fucking mistress. 

I give her one last glance before clearing my throat and leaning my head back to rest my eyes for a moment. 

Soon, we stop, and the door flings open, Robbin, Slash, some chick, and Steven all pile in, Vivian scooting over so there's more room for everyone to sit. 

I go to the other window, letting Slash and the girl I'm assuming is with him get beside me. 

Vivian's between Robbin and Steven, and it's evident they've been having some fun before meeting us. 

"Sixx!" Robbin lets out, kicking the seat I'm in.

"King!" I reply, kicking his seat, and he chuckles. 

"How was Japan?" He asks, rubbing his nose. 

"I barely remember." I admit with a laugh and he joins me, nodding. 

"Nikki, this is Sally." Slash tells me next and I lean over him to see her. 

She's pretty hot. 

"Nice to meet you." She tells me.

She's Scottish...interesting. 

I hear Vivian giggle and I peek out the corner of my eye and see Robbin whispering something in her ear, and she elbows him, jokingly. 

"You are, just saying." He says to her and she rolls her eyes. "Just get more and more beautiful the longer I go without seeing you." He adds. 

"Shut up." She nudges him. 

"You are." He chuckles. 

"Sleepy is what I am." She states as Steven tells me something, and I try to hear him, but I'm too focused on what Robbin's going on about. 

"Here," he reaches in his pocket and pulls out a baggie of coke, grabbing his keys and getting some on the tip of it, holding it up to her nose. 

She wrinkles her nose and shoos him away. 

"No, no, no." She shakes her head. 

"C'mon."

"No." She keeps her voice light but stern and he lowers it and looks at her with a smirk on his lips. 

Next thing I know, she's laughing out, "Robbin, stop," while King's dumping the dab of coke on the smooth skin of her tit that's pushed up slightly in her strapless dress. 

She squeals and laughs as he snorts it off, I guess because the scratch of his five o'clock shadow tickles or she just gets off on making me mad, then he starts quickly trailing little kisses up her cheek to her ear and she tries to put her ear to her shoulder, laughing more when his other hand tickles at her stomach…he's nearly got her laid out on the seat. 

My foot makes contact with his stomach and I'm nearly barking when I say, "sit your ass down, Robbin," sharply, making it clear I'm not bullshitting him.

"I was just playing, Sixx, damn." He sniffles, wiping his nose.  

"You don't 'play' like that." I throw at him. 

An intense silence falls over all of us and Vivian just brushes what's left of the coke off of her chest and straightens her dress before giving him a soft, reassuring smile. 

Great. Is she fucking him, too? 

When we get to the Cathouse, Vivian stays close to Steven and eventually Sally when the two of them warm up to each other. 

We make it up to V.I.P. and Viv makes a point to try to avoid sitting beside me. 

But I wait for her to sit and I'm sitting right beside her with a smug smirk while she glares at me. 

"What's wrong, baby?" I lean into her ear and ask over the loud music and she just shakes her head. 

I pat myself on the back when she eventually gets up, mumbling about the bathroom, and leaves us. 

After a few (several) lines of blow, I head to the bathroom to piss, deciding to stop by the women's restroom to see what the hell Vivian's doing. 

She probably snuck out of the window. 

I hear the very faint but distinct sound of Vivian crying, guilt stabbing at me. 

I think I took it too far earlier when I called her those shitty things. 

I just go to the men's bathroom and splash my face with water, the buzzing of coke beginning to numb my mind, thoughts of my imploding marriage, band, and life, being locked up and discarded into a black sea of, "it can wait." 

One thing is retrieved, though, thrown a life line and brought back from the depths. 

I look at myself in the mirror, staring myself down as if saying, "don't you fucking do it." 

Once the high kicks in, I can just feel Sikki scrape me from control, locking me away momentarily. 

Next thing I know, I'm standing in the women's bathroom, Vivian still sniffling in the stall...I don't think she knows I'm in here. 

"I got you this far, you fuck." The demon snarls in my ear.

I swallow and clear my throat, making Vivian go silent. 

"Viv, what the fuck's wrong, now?" I ask and she sighs, staying quiet. 

"Nothing, Nikki." She says and I scoff, rubbing my jaw. 

"It's clearly not 'nothing' because I heard you blubbering the past ten minutes." I point out and she opens the stall, door, looking me dead in the eye before pushing past me. 

"A lot on my mind, alright?" She mumbles, going to the sink and I lean against the stall, crossing my arms. 

"Like what?" 

"I don't wanna talk about it, Nikki." She tells me, trying to wipe the smeared mascara away. 

"Well, I can't read your mind, Vivian, so if you're upset with me about something th--"

Her head hangs low, a small sob coming from her throat, tears dropping into the sink, her hands white-knuckling the side of the porcelain…

"I'm upset with you about everything." She admits to me, sorrow lacing her words. 

I haven't seen her like this since Vanity aired our dirty laundry out. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why didn't you act like--" she cuts herself off, and I realize she's referring to me telling her I loved her while I was in Japan. 

"Where were you, Vivian?" I ask her out of nowhere, getting defensive. 

"Where was I?" She turns to look at me, wiping her tears, rolling her jaw. "Where were you?" She snaps at me. "Where have you been the last four years?" She asks me. 

"I'm not doing this shit here." I grumble, turning to go. 

"You asked me what was wrong, Nikki, and I'm telling you what's wrong because you asked--"

"--I also asked where you've been while I've been out of town, Vivian!" I turn on my heel, snarling. 

"I've been at home, Nikki!" She yells back. "I've been here, and I've been here for six years! Thinking you'd be right here with me but you're not! That's what's wrong! I've wasted six years of my life on someone who--" 

"--You wasted six years of your life?!" I laugh out humorlessly. "How the fuck do you think I feel? How many things I've missed out on because, 'oh, nah, my wife wouldn't like that'?!" I scream. 

"Must not have been too bad because you sure as hell weren't passing up the opportunity to have a year and half long affair with Vanity!" She wretches and it takes everything in me not to tell her I know about her little thing she has going with Duff. 

"Ya know what, I felt bad for calling you an evil bitch and a cunt earlier but fuck it, you are." I reach for the door and I feel something hit at my back, her heel hitting the floor by my boots. 

I turn at glare at her, her emerald eyes lined black, thick lashes blinking slowly, lips parted slightly as she takes in a heavy breath.

I take a step to her, then another and she steps back to the sink. 

When our lips meet, I'm putting her on the sink, wasting no time to get her dress pushed up her legs. 

"Wait, wait, wait," she gasps out, nudging me away while I unbuckle my belt. 

I catch my breath as she gets off the sink and turns around, looking at me in the mirror. 

I just lift her dress and bend her over, pulling her panties to the side before--

"God, you are so high." She grumbles, pulling me from my imagination, picking her heel up and shoving past me.

Damn her. 

I follow after her back to the guys, and within another hour, once she realizes she's just going to be babysitting us--since she's not fun enough to participate in the coke, pills, and booze--she stands up.

"I'm about to head home." She tells us, and the boys groan. 

"Oh, c'mon, Viv!" Steven complains as she leans down to hug him and tell him bye. 

"I'm tired, Stevie." She states, chuckling, wrapping her arms around Slash's neck from behind him, and he pats her hand. 

"See ya," he tells her. 

"Bye." She says. "It was nice to meet you." She says to Sally, next. 

"You, too." Sally replies. 

"C'mere, c'mere, c'mere!" Robbin calls over the music and she raises a brow and stand behind him, leaning over to see what he wants. 

He just grabs her hand and puts it over his heart. 

"You feel that?" He asks her. 

"Yeah, it feels like you're about to go into cardiac arrest." She comments. 

"It's because of you." He dopily replies and she rolls her eyes and pushes at his chest, shaking her head. 

"You're a mess." She tells him and he kisses the top of her hand. 

"Goodnight, Viv, it was good to see you again." He tells her. 

"It was good to see you, too." She replies, smiling, before pulling away. "Bye, Nikki." She says to me in passing. 

"Fuck you, too!" I call after her as she heads to the stairs. 

The next time I'd see her, she'd be trying to help Sally, Duff, and Steven resuscitate me, and eventually trying to throw herself from the balcony in an attempt to not be left behind while I moved on to where ever the hell we go when we die, begging me not to leave her. I didn't, thanks to adrenaline...but even if I did die, if I had anything to do with it, I still wouldn't have left her.

[uwuowotf2waslife]

The mercs with an s/o who is on the autism spectrum? If you want to

 as a person with diagnosed autism( ASD that later changed to SCD but concidering my countrys lack of proper diagnosis and non-existant support when i was growing up, im not sure,it might was a result of chronic abuse or i was a really weird kid) its my duty to answer this ask,

always know that you are perfect with all your imperfections 

just because maybe your brain is wired different it doest make you less of a person

you are poetry

Scout

-my boy has adhd ( probably undiagnosed until he was examined by Medic) so you two might have a little problem at the begining.

-he might be the closest to a jack russel in human form, but he cares about you and is willing to sit down and do his research so he can understand you and your struggles. He isn’t a hypocrite, he is a hyperenergetic bundle of daddy issues and is sure he will annoy you from time to time, he annoys pretty much everyone except his mom on rare occasion, he is a hanfull and he knows that years now. But he also has come to understand that everyone has struggles and little things that make them more special than others.

-if you have problems with communication , he’ll be your mouth .Problems with sensory overstimulation? he will escort you to the safest place and hug you tighter than he thought hes capable of. People mistreating or bullying/insult you? the bat is in his hands and his ready to hit home runs on their balls. You might not be the perfect couple, you will struggle like every couple and have fights and arguments, but he is ready to phase every difficulty that comes on your way. He loves you and he is here for the ride even if its bumpy.

Soldier

-( I and i think a big part of the community claim he is actually autistic) Probably the most tricky of the mercs, since at one side he might completely relate/understand you and the relationship go smoother than soft butter on bread, or he might have problems communicating the relationship problems with you.

-as all relationships you two must sit down and communicate your problems. Believe me he isn’t mentally retarded ( a horrible misconsumption ive seen being thrown around), yes he is stubborn and can’t read social cues to save his life, but he is a loyal beefcake with a golden heart hardened by a lifitime of war. He knows he isn’t the perfect man, he has nightmares and panic attacks on the regualr after so much trauma in his life. But he also knows that if he S/O needs him, it doesnt matter if its a small or big thing, he is ready to go through hell and back to make them happier or more comfortable 

-you can’t stand loud noises? copy that privet, he will stop yelling/ screaming around you. Certain things make you uncomfortable/ anxious? hes at your side and he is ready to snap necks...you have his heart and his adoration, he ain’t a coward or a pansy, you’ll win over any challenge that comes your way like the absolute unit you are and he is there to assist

Pyro

-fresh from the start they can recognise you have autism, i lowkey think they might be ( actually in young adults asd and mild schizophrenia can be mixed and confused by not good qualified doctors, its been years since i read that study so correct me if im wrong) or have really good gut insticts. Either way, they know you are struggling and trie in subtle ways to help you

-did an important call without stuttering? hug and smooch on the crown of your head, completed all your work/homework? they will cover you in stickers and cuddle you in their pillowfort, stood up for yourself? my girl theyll make a huge cupcake tray and youll two will eat while watching sappy disney films

- you won’t struggle as much, i see them as more easy going than other members of the team. But they also have big issues that may create problems in the relationship that you both need  to work on. They are more than a handfull and they aren’t unaware of it, they spended years locked inside their own head doing god-knows how vile and harming things to their mentality and body, they can’t believe they are alive and they wake up every day next to the most beautifull human being they have come across their lif, ( Y/n). You will bond slow but strong , you are their sunshine and theyll make sure their sunshine shines no matter what they have to do

Engie

( lowkey i think is canon he has some form of high-functioning autism, just hide its behind the southern warm and soft hospitality)

- when you confess, he hugs you ( a big thing coming from him since i dont consider him a touchy fella)  and returns the confession that he is too. He knows each person experiences different so he won’t press you for explanations or description of what you have is excactly. He just assures whatever happens, he is there to help you with

- doesn’t really change how he views you, but he takes the initiative for things like talking to strangers, calling to order or things that you struggle with, but he doesnt baby you. You are an adult person and will be treated as that, even if sometimes he feels he needs to “help” or “protect” you

-one of the most  easy going of the mercs, but his work is his priority so there will be long arguments about it. He understands your frustation, but he is a workaholic years now before you came in his life and can’t bring himself to change that. His work is his routine, the only comfort he knows and the only place that accepted him for who he is. But, he will be more elastic and have more breaks/ days off even if it means the project will be finished an hour or two later, unless it has an urgent deadline. He knows he can be very cold and emotionless, he is an engineer, not a spy for that reason. Furthermore he has his own times when he is stubborns or has an anger explosion because something broke/didnt meet his expectations or got way too invested into something that turned to be worthless/ uselless so he isn’t the one to judge if you are in a sour mood or you have your own “ explosion”. After all said and done, late at night when you are both alonein his workshop he will just cradle you in his arms and make a silence promise to always be there for you through thin and thick ( as we say to go through 40 waves and 40 more ) because you are something that no machine or creation can emulate or recreate, you are ( Y/N) and you are the love of his life.

Demo

-arguably one of the three more knowledgable of the mercs in the topic of mental health department. Being raised in an orphanage i doubt he didnt had at least a dozen other kids who had from high to moderate to severe autism ( during the 20th century it wasnt uncommon for people with autism to be thought less human or that the family of said people couldn’t provide for them in severe cases so theyd be dropped on orphanages and psychiatric hospitals)., so he has some first hand experiene with what autism is. It isn’t something for him in all honesty, after so much trauma and hardship in his life he is at peace that peopleare different and their brains are rarely wired the same

-he also know he isn’t ideal, he acts really stupid when he is drunk and his alcohol consumption alone is a very big problem for any relationship he ever had in his life and i doubt he is the image of psychological perfection, but he also knows that if you are willing to keep him around you have seen him wasted out of his mind, he is more than willing to put up with anyof your quirks or difficulties.

-you want to stim? go ahead he’ll leave the room/the house so you can stim to your hearts content, you want to stay? sure thing lass, hell sit in a corner and drink a bit while you have your thing. Work/ school/ home life is stress full and you are in the verge of a breakdown? he has already wrapped you like a burrito and he is holding you while you cry/vent, you dont want to be touched at that moment? hell take you to an open field and you can blow things up to get all those feelings out of you. He isn’t ideal, he is at peace with that, but now that you appeared in his life, you became the apple of his eye. He’ll cherish you and protect you both as body but as a mind and a soul for whatever shit life throws at you, he was never one to back down a challenge.

Heavy

-due to the language barrier and his nature as a quiet man it’ll take him some time. If you bring it up he’ll simply nod and run to Medic or Spy for translation. He isn’t shy to do a doctors worth of research so he knows what he has to deal with, he knows his english is broken and would prefer to have a migraine over the amount of books hes read than make you feel uncomfortable. Probably will ask advice from Medic ( the most qualified on the team) untill hes satisfied he knows enough.

-probably the sanest of the mercs, but he isn’t perfection. He had to endure famine and death from very early in his life, always be the stone his family anchored on and most people on his life, so he has his own big problems. At one side he is used to so many things, he is somewhat indiferent. You aren’t harming anyone nor its life threatening, so it doesnt really change what he feels about you. All people have flaws, noones perfect and if they do think they are perfect, they are very, very wrong. I won’t lie to you, some times hell get confuse with your behavior or will get tired of being the “ anchor” of the relationship, but he will never admit it. He survived the Gulags and years in Siberia, this is nothing but a walk in the park for him. He isn’t a fuckboy, he doesn’t want you just for some fuck and then hell forget you exist, he is much more sentimental than he appears to be. He beginned this with you because he sees you more than a body, he sees you as someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with even if itll be a challenge, he was never a quiter and he wont be now.

- don’t expect much communication help from him, unless its in russian. But whenever you feel the tiniest bit of self-doubt or anxiety his arms are open to embrace and warm you with  his love. He might was raised among anarchy and war, but he is a gentle giant with a heart bigger than Russia herself. He knows you two will struggle especially on the communication domain but he is willing  to do what it takes to make your life easier/ less challenging. He came here to stay, only if you allow him 

Medic

-Arguably the most medically qualified of the mercs, but considering the era of his studies hes at least rusty on modern terminology and general understanding of what autism is. Nontheless his a doctor ( with or without a medical license) and i doubt he ever followed the rules of ethical and unethical medicine. He is a healer primeraly and he can’t claim to be the most mentaly stable of the team.

-he might be many things, he knows hes at least crazy by normal standards and has made extremely questionable choices in his life,but he cares for the people he is close to, lovers and collagues alike. He won’t try to ‘change’or ‘medicate’ you; unless you specifically ask him for, like yes he has defied any sort of ethical medicine and has played god many times in his life, but he knows that if he changes you, you won’t be ‘you’. You will be you still, but nothing more than a lobotomized version of yourself and he fears that. Let’s be real, he probably choosed you because you are a smart individual ( that includes both street and book smarts alike) so if he “killed” your smart he would essentially kill you and this doesnt sit well with him.

-feeling down? no worries, the doctor is here ( afterhe finis hes re-connecting snipers new kidneys). Stressed? Archimedes will be your own personal cheerleader and the rest of the flock won’t let you all stressed and alone while Medic is working. In the simplest of works,he wants you to know that  he might be a madman on the field and the medbay, but he is also your lover and that means he cares about you. He doesnt care if act a lil strange or you have some special things about you, guess what? he doesnt cares. H e never cared and he will never cared, all the greatest minds had something  special about them and you are no exception. He chosed to have a relationship with  you and you accepted the love request of a surgery-happy maniac , im sure he is beyond equiped to handle you in all aspects. He might not be the most touchy but he will make his point across that you are someone who means wayy to much for him to change

Sniper

- ( i highly think he is autistic, just the way hes potrayed in most fanfics he acts lowkey autistic, mostly in the communication and sociable part) growing up in the middle of nowhere probably he has never even heard ‘autism’ as a word , so his very lost. (another headcanon of mine is that he is also iliterate) You need to explain to him what autism is and how it affects your life. He has a non-pleasant expression on his face, because he realises most things that you say what that “autism”is and the thing it has are things he actually  has and felt throughout his life. He looks like hes having a religious expierience and when you are done he only nods and hugs you almost mechanically.

-he will need some time, not because ofyou, but because of him. You might think he is breaking up with, butin reality he just needs some time alone to sit down and think about all the things you said. Its one of the biggest revalations he has experienced on his life and it has hit him like a wall of bricks.

- after a few days he will return to the base and will ask you to meet with him on the most secluded of his snipers nest. While you prepare for the upcoming breakup, he actually showers and wears somet hing nice for the first time in a while. He goes out of his way to make the sniper nest a bit more “ comfortable” even bribe spy into giving him one of his fancy wines. Once you go up the nest and you two meet, he is the most clingy he has ever been and almost drinks the whole bottle out of pure anxiety. Once his tipsy enough he actually confesses that from the things you said, he found out hes also autistic. Que him basically clinging you like a broken koala baby while half-sobbing to expell all the tension he  has inside him. Please pet his hair and rub his back,he will melt and quit his rugged manly man persona for that moment. He needs you there, he needs your soft touch to ground him while his whole life comes crushing down and a weight he never imagined is being lifted from his shoulders.After that, its quaranteed you two won’t be seperated ever again, he needs you to ease all this pain he has gathered from his troubled life and he will provide you the world and the stars.

Spy

- he knows what autism is( as a spy he should know about human psychology/mental disorders just to know how to impersonate any person with or without issues) and he is a very observant man. He has above average attention span and knows how to read body language so he has figured you are autistic a long time ago. He is just waiting for you to open up about it or confess it, but he also knows the social stigma around autism so he keeps his mouth shut because he really doesn’t want you  to feel uncomfortable or ‘naked’ in front of him

- i heavily headcanon him to be at least depressed/having an ugly anxiety disorder or even a dissosiative disorder considering a big part of his life is carefully crafted theater , so he can’t say he is any more better than you.Furthermore he never really cared about what society thinks about mental ilnesses, whos here to judge who sane and not? he has seen so much shady things behind closed doors of “ pure” people he has lost all respect for what society thinks its normal and what is weird or not acceptable. Yes he follows the rules of “good” society but thats more of a habit than a need. Plus have you seen what the good ol’ society behind close doors? yap youll need a good bible study and some church to wash away the sins.

-eventually when you confess to him,he doesn’t really act. He knows its a heavyemotinal moment for you but he can’t open up for his own problems, at least now. But he will embrace you for now and say all the sweet words you need to hear...untill the same time he gets drunker than he can and confesses to you in french all his psychological troubles while he cries on your chest. He won’t let go unless he wants to vomit and he will cling to you for dear life while he experiences one of the ugliest meltdowns he has experienced in the last decade. Probably will wake up with a monster of a hangover, but once he feels you wrapped around him and feel your heartbeat on the bones of his back something will meltin him. He will gather whatever strenght he has, turn around, give you one of the most genuine smiles he has ever given in his entire life and peck your lips bore he starts whining and requiesting you to either kill him or fetch medic. Perhaps one day hell say all the things he wants to say in you mother tongoue but for now, just know he will cherish you and love you like the most exquisite poetry that has graced his life

[blmmed]

👑 + boyfriend

SEND ME 👑 + A CHARACTER NAME OF A CHARACTER YOU THINK I SHOULD WRITE // accepting

WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO

he’s a cute and good boy!! i really do enjoy boyfriend I feel like if pico wasn’t around, I would have wrote either him or the girlfriend! regardless, I do love him and he’s super enjoyable to me

HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO

ICON & WRITING SAMPLE:

“beep ba skee oop?” which roughly translates to ‘where’s the food court’. two chili dogs for him and his girlfriend? yes sir!  what else was a better snack to have during the holidays. jack stares at the back of the mall santa, trying to be as good as possible. after all, once this guy is done he was gonna report to santa up in the north, so he better rack in those good boy points now.

there is no response. “bop?” he taps the back of the others red suit, waiting and his eyes widen to see the pistol pointed at the fat mans head, revealing both Daddy Dearest and Mommy Mearest, looming menacingly.

a gasp escapes him. oh no! now they’re hijacking christmas?! this won’t do at all. a determined glint shines in those black eyes. girlfriend shows up shortly with the growing crowd, tossing jack his hat and both the microphone. with one twist, the hat is put on backward and the mic is caught in the other hand.

a rap battle to save christmas? this is gonna put him on the good boy list for sure!

[halstudandruz]

Kelly Severide- NSFW Alphabet

*Not my gif*

18+

A-Z

A- Aftercare

He helps clean you up before pulling you into his chest. He then proceeds to ask you all the things he did right and all the things he did wrong so he can always better himself. He’s a very picky person that always wants to be the best.

B- Body Part

He likes his biceps. How you always tell how much you love them and how you dig your nails into them while he’s fucking you. On you he likes your hips. Likes being able to grip onto them. Loves the way they make your body curve in all the right places.

C- Cum

There are few things he loves in life more than filling you with his cum.

D- Dirty Secret

Severide is actually really romantic and gets attached easily. Even though he’s had a lot of sex he is actually okay with settling down and with the idea of only having sex with one person. Everyone thinks otherwise though.

E- Experience

Severide has a lot of experience. Before he met you it was kind of a coping method. Have a bad day at work? Go get laid. See something you’re never going to forget? Go get laid. Unfortunately being a firefighter has come with a lot of those situations so he has gotten laid quite a lot.

F- Favorite Position

Severide loves when you ride him. He loves the mix of having no control but also having the ability to take over if he needs. You like doing the work. You love hearing the string of curses words that come from his mouth it only eggs you on further. Your favorite part though is when he gets close. How do you know? He grabs your hips and takes over the work.

G- Goofy

Eh. Severide is more focused during sex. If he gets drunk as hell though you can get him to have a good time and not take it as seriously.

H- Hair

Severide stays well groomed.

I- Intimacy

Like I said he likes to be the absolute best and this translates to sex too. He is devoted to making it a good experience.

J- Jack Off

Severide is so used to getting it all the time he never needs to Jack Off. But when he does you’re always the object of his attention.

K- Kink

Although Severide likes kinks he doesn’t go too far out of the ordinary. He sticks more with the common kinks. Spanking (but not too hard), bondage, lingerie, choking. Not so shockingly though his favorite is his daddy kink.

L- Location

Truck, quarters, home in bed any place really.

M- Motivation

Seeing the hickies he gave you the night before always gets him going again. Plus they’re in hidden sight where only he can see them. Loves watching you walk, watching your hips sway in the most perfect way. Anytime you sit in his lap it’s game over.

N-NO

Anything out of the ordinary that would make you uncomfortable or humiliation.

O-Oral

Kelly is king of pleasure, and he enjoys giving just as much as he enjoys receiving.

P- Pace

He likes it rough and fast. He loves manhandling you. Every so often you can get him to take his time and go slow but those occasions are few and far between.

Q- Quickie

Yes. Very much so yes.

R- Risk

Severide loves to experiment. He’s had sex enough times that he likes to keep it interesting. New places is his favorite to experiment. Show up at work you better believe his quarters will be soon occupied. Laundry room, gear room, you name a place around the house and Severide has probably convinced you to have sex there. (Except Boden’s office that’s off limits.) He wants nothing more than to have sex on a fire truck.

S- Stamina

Kelly’s Stamina is great. Up to do anything for however long you want.

T- Toys

He’s okay with you using them and using him on you it does not work both ways though.

U- Unfair

Again yes. Very much so yes. He knows you can’t resist him and he definitely uses that to his advantage. What he didn’t account for whenever you started dating though was that you are just as much of a tease.

V- Volume

He’s loud and he doesn’t care. He likes to let you know how well you are doing and how amazing you feel. Shay used to give him a lot of shit about it.

X- X Ray

Yeah Severide’s got a nice dick. Why else would he get laid all the time? It’s not way too big but it’s definitely big enough. Between his length and width it takes a couple minutes for you to get used to it no matter how many time you have sex.

Y- Yearning

Severide’s sex drive is ridiculous.

Z- Zzz

After giving you a survey he is out like a light.

[dancerlittle006]

Two Roads - The Many Adventures of Sammi & Race

First things first, I don’t own anything related to Disney or Newsies. I do not own the poem that is mentioned in the later half of this section - that would be Robert Frost. Second of all, this is a continuation of my “The Many Adventures of Sammi & Race” series. You may want to read the others in the series but it’s not necessary!

October 18, 1904 3:00pm

“Is think Spots gonna break up with me.” The door wasn’t even closed before the words were out of his mouth.  

Katherine looked up from her typewriter and gave Race a look. “What do you mean? He’s head over heels in love with you. What happened?”

Leaning against the door, Race let the worry he had been feeling for the past few days consume him. Pushing off the door, he made his way through the living room, collapsing on the couch, burying his head in the pillow. “Race, Spot’s not going to break up with you. Talk to me; what happened?”

His response was muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. Kat rolled her eyes, going to sit beside him on the couch. “Try saying that again . . . this time without the pillow translation.”

Rolling over, he threw his arm over his eyes. “Hes really distracted and withdrawn. He barely says completes sentences to me. Is worried about him.” 

“Is everything okay at work? Maybe he’s got some things going on there? How long has this been goin’ on?” Kat suggested giving his back a rub. “I’m sure in a few days it will be fine and everything will go back to normal.”

He gave his older sister a look. “Yous sure? He ain’t like himself, Kat. Hes talkin’ to himself; Spottie ain’t never done thats. It’s been for da last week o’so” 

“Trust me, if he’s not by himself by the weekend, then we’ll pay for your next date night.” Kat grinned, giving his shoulder a shove. “Besides, maybe his heads up in the clouds thinkin’ of something.” 

Race gave her a look. “Yous know something?”

“No! He hasn’t come talk to me.” Kat mentioned, not really meeting Race’s eyes. Her fingers were more of interest to her than looking at Race. 

He studied her. There were very limited times, twice in fact, that Kat couldn’t look him in the eyes and talk with him. She was very proud of the fact that when she talked with someone, she intently listened and made eye contact. “Yous lying, Katherine Kelly. You knows something.” 

Her jaw dropped at his accusation. “How dare you, Racetrack Higgins. Accusing me of knowing something when in fact I know nothing.”

“Yous awfully confident that everything will be cleared up with Spot by this weekend . . . so what did the little bugger tell you?” Race gave her a look, daring her to lie to him once more. 

Biting her lip (another one of her tells), she looked over at her brother. “All I know is that he came and spoke to Jack about a month ago. I took Samantha out to the park and left them to their conversation. Jack didn’t tell me what the conversation was about.” 

“Truth?” Race bit his lip in worry and concentration trying to figure out what his boyfriend was up to. “Yous know nothing else?”

Taking his hand in her, she squeezed it. “I know nothing else, Race. But I know that when I came back, Jack was in a pretty good mood and excited. I don’t think the conversation was bad. Maybe something good will happen.”

“Oks.” He nodded his head before giving her a look. “Next time you want to try lyin’ to me, remember I used to kick your butt at poker and I know all yous tells.” 

Kat grinned, thinkin’ back to those nights in the lodging house and the rowdy poker games. “Deal, Race, deal.” 

“Unka Race!” Heavy footsteps were running down the hallway, and plowed into his legs before he could get a word in. “Whens you here?” A big smile crossed his lips as he tugged the little girl up to sit on his lap. “Hi munchkin. Is here to see your mumma. Hows you doing?”

“Good. Miss you.” Sammi buried her head into his chest and sighed in contentment. 

He gave Kat a look, which she merely grinned at. “I heard yous, mumma, and daddy went to thes park last night and yous got ice cream.”

Popping up her head, she grinned at him. “Yes! Is got straw’erry.” 

“Was it good?” 

Pushing her hair off her face, she nodded her head. “Mumma got ‘nilla and daddy got ‘holate.” 

“Unka Race, guess what?”

“What munchkin?”

She gave him a look. “Is no munchkin! Is Sammi.”

“What Sammi?” He chuckled at the almost 3 year olds seriousness. 

“Is saw a doggie. Me wants doggie.” Her eyes went wide with pleading, hoping her uncle would give into her wants. 

Race’s face brightened. “Yous want a dog? What does daddy say about that?”

“He says no. But he says baby’s comin’.” Sammi shrugged her shoulders, not getting what the big idea was. 

Race’s eyes flew up to Kat’s, who had a hand over her mouth trying to hide her grin. “Baby?”

Tears rushed to her eyes before nodding her head. “Spring time.” 

Picking up Sammi, he crossed the room pulling Kat into a hug. “Congratulations, Kat. That’s fantastic. Yous gonna be a sister, Sammi.” Breaking the hug, he looked at the little girl who had a pout on her face.

“No sister, no baby.” Sammi pushed away from him, making him put her down. She crossed the room to sit on the couch, pouting. 

Kat smiled sadly at him as he pulled her into another hug. “She’s not used to the idea. She’ll get there.” 

Going to sit next to Sammi, he pulled her onto his lap and faced her to him. “Sammi, whats really goin’ on? Being a big sister is a good thing.” “Not uh!” She argued, sticking her tongue out at him. 

“Yous wanna know something?” He paused for dramatics. Knowing he had her attention at the prospect of a secret, she gave him a look that she was listening. “Yous mumma is my big sister.”

Sammi’s eyes went wide. “Is thinks daddy was your ‘rother.” 

“He is but yous mumma is mys big sister. And shes a wonderful big sister.” Race ran a hand through her hair. “And Is know yous gonna be a great big sister.” 

Putting a finger in her mouth, Sammi looked wide-eyed at him and a hint of a smile was on her lips. “‘Eally?”

“Yous, Samantha Anne Kelly, are going to be a wonderful big sister.” He whispered. “And Is and all yous uncles will be here to help yous along.” 

The gentle shut of the front door caused them all to look over. Jack smiled seeing his little family there. “So I guess the cat’s outta the bag?”

“Yous daughter was the one to do it this time.” Race smiled, standing up with Sammi to give his brother a hug. “Congrats Jackie! Is very excited for you guys.”

“Daddy! “Uess what?” Jack took Sammi from Race’s arms as she threw her arms around his shoulder in a hug. 

“What?” 

She grinned, giving her uncle and dad a look. “Is gonna be a ‘ister.” 

“Yous? A sister?” He gave her a look of unbelief. “Since when?”

“Unka Race told me.” 

Jack looked at Kat who merely rolled her eyes. “Oh, since Uncle Race said it’s okay, it’s fine but when mumma and I said yous gonna be a big sister, you pitch a fit and cry. Hmmm. . . betrayed by my own child.”

“Oh grow up Jackie. This is whats being an uncle is all about. Telling your niece that it will be okay and reassurin’ her.” Race grinned. 

Jack gave his younger brother a look. “Shuddup. Just wait until yous have kids one day; you’ll be feeling the pain, Is currently feeling.”

“Sure, that’ll be the day.” Race grinned. 

Talking with them for a bit longer, he left Kelly House and started his path back towards Brooklyn.  His head was swarming with the information he had gathered at the Kelly House along with Jack’s nonchalant when Kat mentioned why Race had come over. Jack hadn’t contributed anything that Katherine had already provided. 

He crossed the bridge, stopping in the middle, letting his thoughts float as he watched the rushing waters of the river below. He and Spot had talked about marriage, both of them wanting to make it official and spend the rest of their lives together. They talked about being a family, something neither of them had growing up. The Newsies had become both of their families over the years and both of them vowed to hold close the mismatched group of friends they had.  But the thought of marriage never scared him but he knew Spot wasn’t in a place to jump into marriage. He knew that if either of them were to proposed, it would be him. He did have a ring that was kept at Jack’s for safekeeping and out of their own apartment - he had that ring for over 2 years waiting for a sign that Spot was even remotely ready to settle down.

Sighing, he pushed off the barrier and continued his walk home, mind still swarming with thoughts. Before he knew it, he was at the apartment and walked up the stairs. Reaching the front door, there was an envelope taped to the door with his name written on it.  

Race, 

Tonight wes eating out. Take a shower, put on some clean clothes, and meet me right here at 6pm. 

Love you, 

Spot

Grinning, Race opened the door, half expecting Spot to be waiting for him. The apartment was empty and quiet as he made his way to their bedroom. There was the shirt he had thrown on the bed this morning but other than that, their room was in pristine condition, nothing out of the ordinary. 

He took a shower, making sure his hair was perfect for whatever Spot had planned. Taking careful measure to dress up a bit, he saw that he still had 20 minutes until he was to meet Spot. Sitting on the couch, he put his shoes on and tapped his feet, trying not to let the anxiety creep up but really looking forward to whatever Spot had up his sleeve for the evening. 

A knock on the door caught his attention. Making sure there were no wrinkles on his shirt, he crossed the room, smiling and opening the door. Spot was standing on the other side of the door with a single red rose and a big smile on his face. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi honey.” Race took the rose from his hand before pulling into a searing kiss. “You look handsome.” 

Spot winked at him. “So do you snookums. Ready for a night on the town?”

Quickly putting the rose in some water, the two headed out to a local diner. Spot helped him with his chair before grabbing his hand. They made small talk while waiting for their waiter to take their order - spaghetti for Spot and lasagna for Race. 

“So a little birdy told me yous were worried.” Spot raised an eyebrow at Race as he took a sip of his beer. “Why didn’t yous tell me?”

Race hung his head and felt Spot squeeze his hand. “At first Is thought I did something but yous not acting like yourself. I went over to Kat’s to sees if shes noticed anything.”

“Of course yous went to Kat’s.” Spot shook his head. “Did yous learn anything from her?”

“All shes told me is that yous saw Jack a month ago but shes didn’t know what yous talked about.” Race smiled. “She eased my mind a bit.”

Spot grinned. “Goods. Alls will be revealed soon.”

“So yous is hiding somethin’?” Race’s eyes met Spot’s with a grin. “So Is was okay for worryin’.” 

He squeezed their conjoined hands. “Yous has nothing to worry about. Alls will be okay.”

Their dinner soon arrived, both of them eagerly digging in. Conversation was minimal as they enjoyed the richly good Italian food. The bill was settled as Spot suggested a walk to end the night. 

Loosely holding hands, they simply let their feet guide them throughout the city. Night had settled on the city as electric lights had clicked on, giving the city a warm glow. Pulling on Race’s hand, Spot led them towards the familiar bridge. 

Pausing in the spot Race had stopped earlier, Spot sighed. “This seems to be a favorite spot of ours, huh?”

“Old habits die hard.” Race leaned against the barrier, feeling the slight breeze on his face and listening to the rushing water below. He felt Spot settle in beside him. Sighing in contentment, Race looked beside him not seeing Spot. Looking down, Spot was on one knee with a shaky smile.  Race shot a very confused, shaky smile in his direction. Clearing his throat, Spot grabbed Race’s hand. 

“Robert Frost once said ‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.’ and Is feel like that sums up ours relationship. Wes never followed the paths set forth by others - wes went our own way and it led me to yous.  Anthony Higgins, wes been together for the past 5 years, everyday betters than the previous. Yous make me the happiest man in the world and I love yous with every fiber of mys being. Will yous marry me?” Spot finished with a shaky voice and a watery smile. 

Race had tears in his eyes, knelt down beside his boyfriend, nodding before pulling Spot up and into a kiss. “Yes, Sean Patrick Conlon, I wills. I love yous too, jerk.” 

“Surprised?” Spot pulled him into a hug, letting the stray tears flow from his eyes onto Race’s shoulder. He felt Race nod, opting to give him a few minutes to reveal in the happiness that surrounded him. “I talked with Jack about proposing to yous a month ago. Jacks was so happy but Is told him he couldn’t tell Kat ‘cause hows close you twos are. Is carried the ring around for the month tryins to figure how to propose to yous.” 

Pulling back from Spot, he gave him an excited look. “Ring? Is get a ring?” 

“Thats typically hows this work, idiot.” Spot grumbled shaking his head, reaching into his pocket to pull out a hammered silver ring. “Marry me?”

Tears clouded Race’s eyes once more. “Yes, you sap, Is marryin’ you.” 

Pushing the ring onto Race’s ring finger, Spot pulled Race into another kiss, as hoots of encouragement erupted around them. Pulling back, Race and Spot gave thumbs up to the passerbyers. “Just fors the record, Is your idiot now, Mr Tough Guy Conlon.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sealing the deal with a kiss, Spot laced their fingers together. 

The next few minutes was silent between the two, each lost in their own thoughts. “You knows, I stood in this spot earlier thinking about marriage and proposing to yous.”

“Really?” Spot raised an eyebrow in his fiancé's direction. “What were yous thinkin’ about?”

Race squeezed their intertwined hands. “Just how Is never could tells if yous were ready for marriage. Is knew I wanted to spend my life with you but I couldn’t tells if yous felt the same. And Is was okay with that. As long as yous were in my life, I was okay.” 

“That was partly what Is talked with Jack about. He told me that as long as I was in yous life, you were happy but I wanted more.” Spot squeezed their hands. “Figures Is surprise you; Is sorry I made you worry.”

Race grinned at him, reaching over and kissing his forehead. “Lets make a pact now. Wes don’t keep anything from the other from now on.” “But what if its a really good surprise?” Spot negotiated. Race considered it for a moment before nodding, seeing Spot’s point. 

“Birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas are the only surprises, Conlon!” Spitting into their hands, they spit-shook on it sealing the promise. “Love you Conlon.”

“Love you too, Higgins.” He heard the distant church bells toll. “Now comes on. Wes got somewhere to bes.” 

Giving his fiancé's a look, Race’s jaw dropped. “Thought wes just agreed no more surprises?” 

“This has been planned for a month. Now no more questions.” Spot tugged on their hands. “Let’s go.” 

They finished crossing the bridge before Spot led him further into the burb. Soon they were standing in front of the hotel Race worked at. “What wes doing here?”

“Come on.” 

Leading him into the restaurant at the back of the hotel, he squeezed Race’s hand before opening the door. “CONGRATULATIONS!” 

Race stumbled backwards at the sound that escaped from the opened doors. Spot glanced behind him and grinned. “Surprise!” 

Peeking his head into the room, Race grinned seeing all of his friends standing there with glasses of alcohol. “What’s this?”

“Possibly celebratin’ something.” Jack stepped forward giving both him and Spot a look. “A little birdy said something was happenins.” 

Race grabbed Spot’s hand and squeezed it. “Fellas, Is like to introduce you to my fiancé, Sean Patrick “Spot” Conlon.” 

The noise level went up considerably after Race’s announcement. Kat appeared at Race and Spot’s side with two glasses of champagne. Handing them each a glass, she grinned. “Congratulations, you two.” 

“Yous knew.” Race looked at her with a grin. “Yous knew this afternoon when Is came to yous house.”

Kat held her hands up, biting her lip. “I only knew after you left. Jack told me.” 

“That’s fair.” Race nodded. “Coffee date this week?”

Kat nodded. “Absolutely. You can fills me in.” 

Sammi came running up to Spot with her arms raised. “Unka Pottie! Congr’ts.” 

“Thanks Sammi. You’ll have to tell Uncle Race too.” He walked over to where Kat and Race were talking. “Unka Race!” 

“Hi Sammi!” Spot deposited the girl into Race’s arms grinning. “Long time no see.”

“Daddy say yous and Unka Pottie are ‘gage.” She said putting her arms on his shoulders. “Whats that mean?”

Race looked over her shoulder at Jack and Kat and grinned. “Know hows mumma and daddy are married and theys live together?” 

“Uh huh. Is thats what you and Unka Pottie will be?” She tilted her head in thought. “Yous still my unkas?”

Race snuggled the girl in his arms. “Is always will be your uncle and so will Uncle Spottie. That’s not changing. Yes, wes--” 

He was interrupted by Albert standing on a chair, grabbing the room’s attention. He felt Spot come up beside him and grab his free hand, giving it a squeeze. Jack came up beside him and grabbed Sam from his arms, giving him a wink and a cheeky grin. 

“I wanna welcome everyones to Race and Spot’s engagement celebration.” Albert grinned as hoots and hollers erupted around the room. “This has been a long times comin’ and Race, the fellas couldn’ts be more excited for yous two.” 

Spot gave Race a look, which caused the man to throw his head back and laugh. “Yous sure you wanna marry a ‘Hattan boy?”

“Yes, besides yous a Brooklyn boy now.” Spot growled, pulling Race into a kiss. “Besides, wes don’t dos stuff like this in Brooklyn.”

Race chuckled, knowing Spot was uncomfortable in a setting like this but willing to do it for Race’s sake. “It’ll be overs soon, snookums, and we can go home.”

Albert cleared his throat, a few chuckles sounded around the room. “Before I was interrupted by our lovebirds, Is just wanted to say congratulations and Conlon, you hurt our boy, it’s your head! To Race and Spot!”

“Race and Spot!” 

Jack stood up on the next chair, raising his beer, a cheeky smile to the couple. “Race, Is will never forget the day I met 6 year old you. It was barely 5am and yous already had a mouth on you. Yous were the little pest that didn’t shut up but yous followed me wherever Is went, wanting to knows all about papes. Yous turned into the brother Is lost many years ago. Somehow, under some influence, you grew into the man you are today. Is was proud when I made yous second, but Is might been even more prouds of yous today. Race, yous and Conlon be happy.  Conlon, Albert’s threat is the truth and wes will have yous head if you mess with Race, because Brooklyn boy or not, he’s always a ‘Hattan boy. To you both, Race and Spot!” 

“To Race and Spot!” 

With the speeches out of the way, Race kissed Spot before walking over to Jack. Pulling the older man into a hug, Race cleared his throat. “Thanks Jackie.”

“I meant it Race. Is proud of you.” Jack put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 

Race cleared his throat, smiling looking out at all of their friends that had gathered. “Yous the reason Is me. Yous realize that?”

“Me?” Jack’s eyes widened at the possibility of that concept. 

Race chuckled at the surprise tone of Jack’s voice. “Absolutelys Jack. Yous took me and the fellas off the streets and thoughts us how to survive. Looks arounds the room, Jackie. Yous is whys wes all grew up. And when Is marry Spot, yous marriage is the one Is looking at for guidance.” 

Jack stayed quiet, which was rare for the man. Race squeezed his shoulder, causing the man to look up at him. “Wes love you Jack. Grateful as hell but wes love you and yous ours brother, simple as that.” 

Pulling Race into a hug, Jack let the few tears that had built up at Race’s sincere words fall onto his brother’s shoulder. “Loves you man.”

“Loves you too.” Race cleared his throat. “Will yous stand next to me when Is marry Spot?” 

Jack smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. No other place Is rather be. I thought yous ask Kat.”

“Thought crossed my mind but Is want her to reads something durin’ the ceremony.” Race smiled. 

Jack nodded, pinching his lips together. “Is so happy for you Race. Yous deserve all the happiness in the world; yous and Spot.” 

“Thanks Jackie.” He gave him one more hug before moving across the room to the group of Newsies that had congregated together. 

“There’s the man of the hour!” Albert yelled, as Finch, Albert, Specs, and Crutchie all raised their glasses in a toast to him. 

Race bowed as they all laughed at him. “Congratulations, man. Welcomes to the engagement club.” 

Albert had asked Marie to marry him in August and they were set to get married in early 1905. Finch and Elmer were an on-again/off-again couple that none of the Newsies could keep up with.  Crutchie was working at the Lodging House, taking over a couple of years ago for Kloppman, who had had enough and finally retired. 

Race grinned. “Thanks fellas. What’s new?” The next few minutes he caught up with all of them before asking to talk with Albert. He gave his best friend a look before nodding and walking over to the corner of the room. Not realizing that the entire room was watching the two, Race folded his arms across his chest. 

“Is have a question for you.” Race shuffled from foot to foot. Albert hadn’t seen Race this nervous since the strike - Race was always calm, cool, and collected one of the Newsies. 

Al gave his friend a look before putting a hand on his shoulder. “What’s that?”

Looking elsewhere but his friend, only then did he notice the entire room looking at him and Albert. “Yous think yous never seen two fellas talkin’.” Race loudly said, waiting a minute until everyone went back to their own conversations. 

“Race, just spits it out.” Albert was pretty patient but having Race stall was gettins annoyin’. 

“Willsyousbemybestman?” Race spit it out in one sentence, feeling his nervousness disappear as soon as the sentence was out of his mouth. 

Albert heard the words but Race had said it in such a rush that he didn’t comprehend the words. “What? Says that again?”

“Will yous be my best man?” Race bit his lip as he repeated the sentence. Him and Albert had been best friends since Jack brought Al into the lodging house when he was 6 and Race 7. Thick as thieves, they would almost sell everyday together until Race discovered Sheepshead Bay Racetrack. In fact, Albert was the one to give him his nickname. Race would calm Albert’s fears while Albert did the same for Race, especially after his days in the Refuge. 

Albert smiled. “Really? Is thought yous want Jack to be yous best man.”

“Hes in the lineup but best mans spot, that’s all you. Yous my best friend. Thick as thieves, ‘member?” Spitting in his palm, Race held it out for Albert.  “Will yous be my best man?”

Spitting in his own palm, Albert grinned shaking his head. “Deals.”

“Loves you Albert.” Race pulled Albert into a hug, patting him on the back. 

“Loves you too, Race.” Albert was facing the wall but grinned. “The rooms looking at us, huh?”

Race laughed loudly pulling away from the hug. “Theys just jealous. Wishin’ theys be in our pact.” 

“Hey Race?” Albert put his hands in his pocket, giving his best friend a look. Race raised an eyebrow in question. “Nothin’s gonna change is it? Wes still have lunch and hangs out?” 

Pulling Albert into his arm, he reached out and messed up his head. “Is writing that into the vows - yes, wes still will have lunch and hangs out. Wes just will be old married men now.” 

Albert laughed at that. “Sounds like a plan.” 

12 pages, 4300 words and a baby on the way and an engagement! 

So many emotions in this chapter!!! What did you think? Come talk with me and gush about Race and Spot’s engagement and another Kelly baby on the way!! Send me all of your name recommendations!! 

Note- Robert Frost didn’t pen “The Road Not Taken” until 1915 but I feel like it fits our two lovebirds perfectly. I took some artistic liberties with this to make it work for their engagement. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

It’s a kind of magic tour pt. 2; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

And like I promised guys, here is the second part of the chapter and like I said I’ll try to get the last part of the chapter ASAP. But for now we are at the Budapest section of the tour, it’s not really so much of the concert as it is something else, but ohh wtf I’ll just say it, I mostly wrote about Roger’s bday in this chapter so it’s FLUFFY FATHER-DAUGHTER feels with this chapter so I hope you all enjoy this chapter as you did the previous part :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@psychosupernatural​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@platawnic​

@geek-and-proud​

@queendeakyy​

@kairosfreddie​

@simonedk​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@naturalswifty89​

@starswin​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

@dj-lowkey​

@isabella-bby​

______________________________________________________

*July 25th, 1986. Budapest, Hungary*

After a few days of resting from the Austria concert, we were now on the ferry ride to a place that I knew very well but the guys never got to quite go to, my favorite place of all time, Budapest, Hungary.  The guys were all psyched to visit such a beautiful country and I couldn’t wait to show them what all there was to see and do.

While Deacy and Bri were lying up along the boat getting in some sun, Freddie and I were sitting together and I was telling him all there was to know that I could remember about Hungary.  Plus he said he had a little surprise for the Hungarian audience.

“Oh look Fred the crowning jewel of Budapest. The House of Parliament.” I pointed out as we came around towards it.

“Oh fabulous isn’t it. The House of Parliament. Is it for sale?”

“Freddie!” I giggled. “You can’t just buy the House of Parliament.”

“Why not?” he then turned to Queen’s interpreter and asked him, “How many-how many bedrooms?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head playfully at him.

“About 56 bedrooms in total.”

“Do they have enough servants quarters?” I gaped at Freddie and slapped his arm and that’s when he caught onto his mistake. “Not a good thing to say in this country. Sorry, I didn’t say that.” He said to the camera that was in front of us.  I shook my head as I faced the camera and mocked the gesture of me choking Freddie before placing my hands on his shoulders and leaning my head against his.

“Fred you are such a chaotic source of energy.”

“And you only fuel the flames my darling angel.” He praised proudly as he gave my nose a peck, his tache tickling the end of my nose.  After a little more of a tour along the outer boarders of Budapest, we finally arrived at our docking point and there was an entire crowd of people, just like when I first came here, waiting to greet us like we were their Queen.

I stood along the railings and I waved to everyone before proclaiming to one and all as loud as I could.

“HELLO BUDAPEST I AM BACK!!!!!” The crowd cheered and I even saw some Rock Angel signs being held up and a few chants of ‘Angel! Angel! Angel!’ being said.

“Wow they really do love you here don’t they?” Brian said.

“Well it kinda helps when you’ve been here before, and I might’ve translated one of my songs at the time to Hungarian. Believe me it was hard and I swore I messed up some of the lines but hell it’s the thought that counts.”

“Wait so you can sing Hungarian?” Freddie said as he turned to me after he gave a wave to the crowd.

“I mean a bit.”

“Then bitch why didn’t you offer to help me with my special surprise?” of course I knew the bitch was directed specifically at me as an insult, it was just Freddie being Freddie (trust me not the first time he’s called me that in the affectionate way).

“You never asked me.” I shrugged as I went over towards Roger who put his arm over me and we both gave a wave to the Hungarian people.  Once we docked, I stood behind Deacy along the stairs and he was behind Freddie.  As Freddie was speaking to someone, probably the producer or someone else, Deacy held his arms out with that sweet loveable grin spread across his face so I decided to join him.

I switched between wrapping my arms around him, or holding his wrists and leaning up against him, placing my head on top of the floofy hair of his.  When the ferry finally stopped and the engines ceased, the guys and I walked off the ferry and walked up onto the decks to hear the crowd continuing to scream and chant.

We waved to them and as we finally got off the decks and the ramps leading us out onto the streets, we were quickly placed into the cars before the fans could try and grab a hold of us.  Of course I managed to try and at least sign a couple of things, as did the boys but we didn’t have enough time for photos before we finally got into the cabs and they drove us to our hotel.

Checking in was fortunately easy but of course cameras and photographers were taking pictures of us and watching us as we signed the guest book every guest needed to sign.

My suite was on the same floor as Roger’s and Deacy’s.  Brian was two floors above ours and Freddie got the penthouse suite.  Once I got to my suite, the first thing I did was get into the bed and reached for the phone.  I dialed the number and waited for an answer.  It rang about four times till I finally got an answer.

‘Hello?’

“Hey love.” I said with a smile.

‘Well hello mama lion. Did you and the guys make it to Budapest safely?’

“Yep we just arrived at the hotel. I promise when the tour’s over I’ll bring you and Kelly here for holiday.”

‘I don’t doubt that baby. So the ferry ride was good?’

“Oh yeah it was fun. I miss you guys so much.”

‘We miss you too mama.’

“Is my baby awake from her nap?”

‘Yep she’s playing with her stuffed lion her godfather gave her.’ I smiled and said.

“Can I talk to her?” I asked him.

‘Okay. But if she starts crying because of me taking her attention away from her toy, I blame you.’ Jack teased.

“Wanker.” I muttered.

‘I heard that.’ There was a bit of silence before I heard the coos and fussing of my 8 month old baby.

“Hi little mama!” I cooed.  It was then the fussing turned into sweet coos. “Hi baby girl.”

‘Yeah it’s mama.’ I heard Jack say.

“Hi my sweet baby girl. You being good for daddy?”

‘She’s always an angel. Although we had a rough night last night.’

“Aww little mama.” I then heard a knock at the door, but I just ignored it for now as I asked. “What was wrong?”

‘I think she might’ve had a pretty bad dream last night.’

“Can babies even get nightmares?”

‘I don’t know, I called Veronica, Dominque and Chrissie about it and they said it was possible. Ronnie even said Michael once had nightmares when he was around Kelly’s age.’ I hummed and that’s when I heard the knocking again.

“Hold on a second Jack,” I set the phone down and proclaimed. “Who is it?”

‘It’s me lovie open up!’ I sighed. It was Roger. Obviously wanting to check on me as per usual.

“It’s open!” I quickly went back to the bed and picked the phone back up. “It’s just Roger coming to check on me.”

‘His usual day to day checkups whenever you guys get to a new location?’

“Yeah.”

‘So—what are you guys planning for his birthday?’

“Well I can’t say much but Fred’s got something very special planned. And you’re sure you sent the present to this hotel right?”

‘Yes baby I sent it through the mail just last week.’

“And what exactly are you talking about little angel?” I looked up and pressed the phone to my chest and said.

“Nothing you need concern for yourself shades.” I gestured to his prescription sunglasses.  He glared at me and I said, “well be thankful I’m not calling you raccoon eyes.”

“Haha very funny.” He mocked as he collapsed right beside me. “Whose on the other end? Your boyfriend?”

“As a matter of fact it’s my husband along with my child.”

“Kelly? Let me say hello to her.”

“Ahh no sir! When they came to Wembley you took her for the entire time.”

“At least I let you see her, c’mon let me say hello to my godchild, please!” god he was such a human puppy dog.  Leaning his head against his hand and giving it that adorably little tilt, doing the pouty puppy dog lip.

‘Just put him on the phone (y/n). You know he’s never gonna give it up.’ I heard Jack’s voice say. I groaned and I said.

“Just so you know next time Nique comes with baby Rory I’m taking her away from you.”

“Fine eye for an eye now give me the phone woman!” he made the grabby hands for the phone and I went ahead and handed it to him while I got up and went over and started picking out my stage gear in two days, plus my party clothes for tomorrow.

All the while I could hear Roger cooing to my child saying hi in that baby voice.

“Hi Kelly love-a-bug. Hi lovie. Awww is that so? You think your mummy and daddy are keeping you prisoner? Why the nerve of them.” I turned to him accusingly and whispered.

“Hey!” he just grinned at me mockingly as he said.

“Well don’t you worry you sweet angel. When I get back you’ll spend the week with me and aunt Nique and your favorite sister Rory, okay?” he smiled and softly laughed. “That’s what I hope you’d say. Okay lovebug, I’ve got to go now you’re mummy is looking at me very crossly. Aww I love you too love-a-bug. Bye baby girl, bye my sweet lion cub.” He then made a kissing sound to the phone before hanging it up.

“Really? You hang it up before I could say goodbye to Jack?”

“Oh Jack was there too? I thought it was just my lovebug.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Why must you still treat him like that?”

“Like what?” he teased.

“You know bloody well what I mean your cheeky blonde lion.” I said as I sat down on the bed beside him.

“I’ve got to, it’s my rule as the father. And I promise I’ll do the same to Rory when she marries and any other daughter that I have. They’ll get the same treatment as you. Because they may find a new lion to love, but none will ever compare to their papa lion.” He said as he sat up and cupped both sides of my face before leaning his nose close to mine, and having his forehead resting against mine.

“Then may God help us once Rory and your real girls start dating. Cause then they’ll start blowing up my phone and coming to my house to escape the overbearing papa lion.” He gave me his best ‘bitch’ face like what Deacy sometimes gives me whenever I annoy him (like any good sister would do) before shoving his hand in my face and pushing me down onto my bed. “Hey you can’t do that in my room!”

“I might as well take this room as punishment young lady.”

“You are so mean!”

“But you love me for it my full grown lioness cub.”

“That I do. And I always will, even when you’re old and gray.”

“You better you ageless Angel.”

“Hey you know only Freddie is allowed to call me that.” I snapped.

“Yeah, yeah. Well I think I’m gonna head for the bar down in the lobby, care to join me?” he said as he got off my bed.

“No thanks, I’m exhausted I think I’m gonna go to bed and sleep until lunch tomorrow.” He chuckled and came up to me and kissed the top of my head.

“Well if you do wake up later tonight, that’s where I’ll most likely be, either there or in my suite.”

“Okay Rog, see you tomorrow.” He then left my room with a salute and once I heard the door close I lay back against my bed, got into the covers and just fell right asleep.

Finally for the first time in weeks, I was able to get a good days/night’s sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the sun on my face and a ringing by my bedside.  I groaned and tiredly reached over and slammed on the clock thinking it was the damn alarm, but when it wouldn’t shut off, I unplugged it but the ringing still happened.

It was then I opened my eyes and reached out for the phone and answered it.

“What?”

‘Sorry to disturb you Mrs. Kline but a package has arrived with your name on it.’ Hearing that made me more wide awake cause I knew exactly what it was.

“It has? Tell me it’s still in perfect condition!”

‘Yes ma’am. The box is in prime condition. Not a tear or soil in it at all.’

“Excellent. Send it up to the Presidential suite.”

‘Right away ma’am.’ I hung up the phone then picked it back up and dialed the presidential suite.  It rang about five times and I muttered,

“Come on Fred pick up, pick up!” I muttered.

‘Yes?’

“Fred it’s me.”

‘(Y/n)? Darling it’s 7 o’clock in the morning, why are you calling me at 7?’

“Well sorry if her royal majesty didn’t get her beauty rest. But I need you to be awake.”

‘What for?’

“My package for Roger just came in. For his you know what today.”

‘Wait it’s that time already?’

“Yes Fred, it’s the 26th.”

‘Oh fuck! I swear a week apart and I can’t keep up with the fucking demands.’ I could hear him getting out of bed.

“So you’ll take care of it?”

‘No worries darling your gift will be kept perfectly safe in my hands. Can I at least know what it is?’

“Fuck no because you are the worst secret keeper ever when it comes to presents. Especially when they involve your partner in crime. I swear you guys tell each other everything.”

‘Yeah. That we do. And you’re no fun darling, I promise I won’t tell Roger now please tell me what it is pleeease!’

“Nope. You’ll find out later tonight.”

‘I swear darling you’ve become so boring since you became a mother. You used to share all the dirty little secrets with me.’

“You’re such a liar Freddie. A Great King Rat!”

‘Seems like someone’s been listening to our first album again.’ He teased me.

“Can you blame me? Next to A Night at the Opera, that’s my favorite album.”

‘But can you at least tell me what you’re wearing tonight?’

“Sorry can’t say that either.”

‘Darling you’re killing me here!’ he whined which made me giggle.

“Okay so you’ve got the cake ready to go right?”

‘Yes I have the finest chocolatiers baking it right now. They’ll have it ready by tonight. I sent them the design late yesterday.’

“Great. And we’ve got Dominque and Felix flying in later today. Okay so I’ll keep Roger busy for the day and then bring him around at what time?”

‘Well the guests are gonna start coming up to my suite around 6:30-7ish. Brian will pick up Dominque and the mini Taylor at around 5:15 and Deacy will be helping me with the decorating.’

“Awesome. So I will see you tonight then Fred. And remember my package.”

‘No worries dear I’ve got it all taken care off. In fact I think that’s it right now. See you tonight my darling.’

“See yah Fred.” I hung up the phone.  I got dressed into some casual clothes for the day so that way I wouldn’t ruin my party clothes for tonight.  I ended up wearing a simple summer blouse that I hadn’t really worn since before I got pregnant with Kelly as well as some jean shorts.  I did my hair and makeup before finally heading towards Roger’s room.

Thankfully the guys always give me a spare key to their hotel rooms each time we go on tour together, just so that way if I ever needed company I could go to them, or in an occasion such as this, I could give the guys some special birthday morning loves from me.  Once I got the door opened, I slowly crept inside and there I saw Roger still asleep in bed, with his shades still on.

I rolled my eyes and tip-toed towards the bed and as gently as I could removed his shades.  Thankfully Rog was always a heavy sleeper, even more so than Brian was.

“Roger.” I softly whispered as I poked his cheek.  He didn’t flinch. “Roger wake up.” I gently shook him this time and he still refused to wake up.  So I resorted to my usual method of waking him up, “Dad!” I hopped up on the bed and pressed my hands on his back, lightly bouncing up and down, like how I’ve seen Felix do to him. “Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad!”

Suddenly I was tackled to the bed and I was looking up into the tired blue eyes of my surrogate father Roger Taylor.

“Even when you’re a parent, why must you still act like a child?”

“Maybe you should say that into a mirror? You literally did this to me just days ago when we were in Austria.”

“So Roger Taylor, how does it feel to be 37 years old? Feeling your age yet old timer?”

“Believe it or not I still got a spring in my step. I’m still in my 30’s and I still look attractive don’t you think?”

“Not as you once were in your 20’s I’m afraid. In fact I think I see some graying right here.” I teased as I brushed my fingers through the top right corner of his head through his short, ruffled hair.

“Okay that’s it!” he tackled me and proceeded to tickle my sides.  I shrieked and tried to get away from him but he kept a firm, strong grip around my waist. “Oh no you don’t get back here!”

“Dad! Nohohoho!”

“And don’t think you’ll be in the clear yet young lady. Once you reach your 30’s I’ll be teasing you endlessly.” He ceased his tickle attack leaving me a panting mess.

“Bitch please Freddie said I’m the eternal youth. I’ll age gracefully.”

“Nope you’re gonna get grey streaks and wrinkles and bags by the time you’re 34.” I shoved his shoulder and I said.

“I’d come up with far worse insults but I don’t want to be the cruel bitch because it’s your birthday.”

“That means you’ve got to treat me like the royal Queen I am.” He said as he lay sprawled out on his back like one of Freddie’s cats.

“Yes I will. Now get dressed yah wally and let’s get going.” I got out of his bed but I was pulled back in and I whined out. “Whaaaat?” dragging out the A.

“Before you leave, I would like a birthday kiss from my daughter.” I smiled before kissing his cheek.

“There, happy?”

“I expect more. One for each day of my age throughout the day.”

“Just be thankful I’m not doing what you do to me. Damn you for not being ticklish.”

“I’m so blessed.” He then pecked my cheek and allowed me to stand back up and I left his room to allow him to get dressed.  It took him awhile to get fully ready but he soon came out with a pair of jeans, blue and red and white stripped button up shirt (you know the one that really gives him that dad vibe), his black leather jacket, of course his shades and white sneakers.

“You ready?”

“I’m ready if you are my dear.” He said as he crooked his arm for me.  I slide my arm through his and we went on our merry way out into the beautiful country of Budapest.

So for the entire morning Roger and I did some sightseeing together and I showed him some of the best locations.  We went to the National museum of Fine Arts, saw some of the famed statues, and of course took advantage of seeing the new records shops they’ve been building.

Cause last time I ever came to Budapest, since they were still heavily influenced by the Communist party, they were slightly hesitant on letting record shops being a full fledged thing.  So the biggest record shop was probably no bigger than a comic book shop.  

But in the last few years with Communist party losing it’s harsh grip, the stores grew and actually took up an entire shop now.  So Rog and I checked out to see who all Hungary was being exposed to.

After getting some lunch at a great steakhouse I hailed down a cab for us because now it was time for Roger’s main surprise from me.

“Okay Rog now I want you to do something for me.”

“That depends on what it is. If it’s not allowing Kelly to stay with me after the tour forget it.”

“No nothing like that. Where we’re going next is a surprise, so I don’t want you to see it.” Taking out of my purse, I held out a long black sash and held it out to him. “Put it over your eyes.”

“You’re joking right?”

“No I told you I want it to be a surprise. I promise you this isn’t an attempt to kill you.”

“Yeah cause saying that makes me very sure.” He said sarcastically.

“C’mon Rog, when have I ever really let you down? Hmm?” he looked at me and I quirked my brow at him, kinda giving him my best Brian gaze.

“Promise me no tricks? That we’re not gonna go to somewhere boring.”

“I swear. In fact it’ll probably be hard to get you to leave.” He took the sash and removed his glasses and tied the sash over his eyes.  I told the driver the address and soon he took off driving.  As we drove on, Roger asked me as I fiddled with his shades.

“Can I at least be given a hint of where we’re going?”

“No can do.”

“But I’m the birthday boy, why keep it from me on my special day?”

“Because birthday boy, this is part of a surprise I have in store for you.” I said as I bopped his nose. “We’ll be there in like ten minutes. It’ll go by fast I promise.” Then to get his mind off of where we were going, I asked him what he planned to do after the tour was over.

That’s basically the whole conversation between us about what we’d be planning to do.  I told him that due to this tour, I had to miss all of Kelly’s first at this point and I refused to miss her first word or first steps so I hope to have a year maybe 2 yearlong break before I start doing anything else.

Because to be truthful, the longest break I had was probably 6 months and that’s when I had Kelly. So since I began my career, all I’ve been doing is album, tour, concerts, live performances, interviews, getting married, had a baby, tour again, record, make public appearances and be apart of other singer’s records.  All in the span of five years of my career.  I need a break.

“Miss, we’re here.” The driver told us.

“Thank you.” I thanked him as I opened the door.  I took Roger’s hand and gently guided him out of the cab.

“Can I take this damn thing off?”

“No, no not yet just wait like three more seconds.”

“Well I’m counting one, two…..”

“Roger!”

“Okay, okay.” I adjusted him and said.

“Okay, now you can take the blindfold off.” He took it off before putting his shades back on and it was then he saw that we had arrived at the Go-Kart race track.

Already thousands of people were gathered around with seats as a race was already in place.

“Oh my…..”

“Surprise! Yeah I found this when I first came here and thought it’d be a cool thing for us to do. Though sadly some of the producers from the filming of the concert are here too. Kinda wanted this to be just you and me.”

“It’s fine lovie. Thank you for bringing me here. So wanna have a race?”

“Yeah. Any excuse to beat you grandpa.”

“Grandpa?!” I grinned and the two of us raced on ahead towards the race track.

Once we got down to the track, we met up with some of the volunteers who work with the driver’s on the track and we got to chat with them.  They told us how to work the cars, which pedals were the gas and breaks, and how to work the stick shift since it was on the side next to the wheel.

We also signed a few autographs for either Queen or Rock Angel fans, which I never mind doing, and I also asked if one of the workers could take mine and Roger’s picture here at the track.  As Roger and I began to prep for the next race, I told him.

“You’re going down old man.”

“I wouldn’t say that bicyclist. Cause you’re about to eat my dust.”

“Cute pun Roger Taylah. But that won’t stop you. At this point you and I are mortal enemies, see you on the other side.” I lowered the screen protector of my helmet and turned my go-kart on and revved it just to taunt him.

As Roger, I and the other racers got into place, we waited for the light to tell us to go.  It went from red, to red, to yellow then finally green. Both Roger and I took off against the other racers leaving them practically in the dust leaving Roger and I to tie neck and neck.

By the first turn, he managed to get the upper hand but pressed down on the gas pedal and tried to catch up to him.  I soon cut him off and turned back to look at him and even though he couldn’t see it, he knew I was grinning at him.  I focused back forward, and I don’t even know how it happened but he somehow managed to drive ahead of me about 7 feet in front of me.

“Oh hell no!” I tried to catch up but no matter how fast I was going I wasn’t able to catch up with him. Unfortunately he won the first race and as the two of us circled in the cockpits, I removed my helmet and he got up beaming with cockiness as he said.

“Now what was it you had said earlier?”

“Very funny.”

“What was that come again?”

“Okay I had a default gearshift, and my engine spurted on that second turn which is why those guys were able to pass me.”

“So who’s the real grandpa now?” he bragged as he knelt down beside me.

“I want a rematch. Best 2 out of 3.”

“You’re on, but it’ll just end up the same way. You biting the dust.”

“Not for long car-boy.” I revved my engine and put my helmet back on and drove back towards the starting line.

Sadly I only won the last race as Roger had beaten me again.  Then being a good sport he figured possibly one last race would maybe get me another win but the little shithead knew he’d win so he won 3 of the four races we did.

As we drove away from the go-kart track and headed back into town, I sat there pouting as I leaned against the window.

“Aww c’mon love you did fine. In fact that last race you nearly had me.”

“Oh shove it yah car lover! This is why I prefer bikes. If it were a bike race I’d cream you!”

“You’d do worse than that. I could barely even get on a bike. But don’t be such a sore loser lovie.” I grumbled and turned away from him. “Wow, my own daughter giving me the cold shoulder on my own birthday. Whatever shall I do?” he then bumped seats over and sat right next to me and pressed himself against me.

“Get off!” I whined and tried to shove him off.

“Nope. Not gonna do it till my lion cub is happy again. She’s being a grumpy pants and I can’t have that, I won’t have it. Now c’mon give us a smile, please? For me?” I grumbled under my breath and refused to look at him.

It was then I felt him poke my sides making it tickle.  I held in a squeak and I muttered to him.

“Don’t you even dare!”

“Then give me a smile and I won’t. Also stop being such a spoil sport or I’ll tell Freddie. And believe me love he’s worse than me when it comes trying to make you smile.” He was right I’ll give him that.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I’m being a sore loser.”

“Well you’re still an adorable loser.”

“Dad!”

“You know I love you poppet. No matter if you beat me at something or I beat you.” He said with a kiss to my cheek.

“I know, and I love you too.” I kissed his cheek again and we continued on our drive back into town.

As the day went on, the sun was starting to set, I looked down at my watch and saw that it was getting close to party time.

“Hey dad, it’s getting pretty late why don’t we head back to the hotel?”

“Not getting bored of me already are yah?” he teased.

“Oh you know that’ll never happen. But I did promise Jack I would give him a call, maybe you can also get a birthday message from your goddaughter.”

“Why didn’t you say so let’s go!” next thing I knew I was being dragged along the sidewalks as the two of us raced back to the Four Seasons hotel.

We got back to my room and as he dialed my number to talk with his goddaughter, I silently slipped into the bathroom and changed into my party dress.  It wasn’t fancy-fancy just a simple dark blue dress, I changed into some black flats and as I quietly stepped out I could hear Roger once again cooing into the phone at my daughter.

“Aww lovie thank you so much. Yes I wish you could be here too.” As Roger continued to talk to my daughter, I wrote Roger a quick note before slipping out of my room and raced down the hallway towards the elevator and quickly pressed the up button. I tapped my foot anxiously hoping that I could disappear before Roger even noticed I was gone.

Finally I heard the ding and the elevator opened.  I got inside and pressed the Penthouse button and I went up the rest of the 8 stories up. When I got to the penthouse I could already hear some music and the sound of an already packed crowd of people inside the penthouse suite.

“Hello (y/n).”

“Terry. Freddie got you being watchdog for Roger?” I asked Freddie’s driver and bodyguard whose also served as my ‘temporary bodyguard’ shortly after my first one Big Rob had to retire due to health issues.  He had accompanied me during the tour just after my wedding and stayed with me up until Live Aid last year, before I finally found my current bodyguard Anthony “Big Tone” Pesci.

“Yep. I’ll radio in once I see him come out of the elevator, he’s not with you is he?”

“No he’s still in my room talking to Kelly.”

“How is that baby girl of yours anyway?”

“She’s great. God I can’t believe I had to miss her 8 month birthday. I just hope I can plan a hiatus just so that way I can stay with her for a year. I already had to miss most of her first few months because of this tour.”

“It’s hard. John was the same way when I first started working for Queen once his second son and daughter were born. Especially when Laura was born.”

“I’ll bet. God having kids really does change you doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does. Well don’t wanna keep you waiting looking all beautiful like that, go on in.”

“Oh stop it Terry you’re making me blush.” I then went inside and low and behold there were people literally crowding the entire suite.  Not only from our team but also Hungarian press and reporters.

“(Y/n)!” I looked up and there I found that familiar tuff of black hair.  I smiled and waved and rushed over and hugged Dominque.

“Hey how was the flight?”

“Thankfully uneventful.”

“That’s good. Is Felix here?”

“Yeah he’s with Brian and Deacy. But how have you been?”

“Okay. Just really miss my baby girl.”

“I know. When Felix was first born Roger went crazy over missing him the first few months. Now that we have Rory ohh god—”

“Your parents babysitting her?”

“Yeah. Sadly the kid’s too small to fly first class.”

“Yeah otherwise we’d both have our baby girls here. Hell I’d take my kid on the road if I have to. But the road’s no place for babies, at least not yet.”

“LISTEN UP MY DARLINGS! LISTEN TO ME LOVIES! I just got a radio from Terry, Roger’s just getting out of the lift!” At this point everyone began to get into their hiding positions.  I ran with Dominque and the two of us hid behind the red sofa.  Brian switched off the lights leaving us in total darkness. Everyone trying to shush one another before we all finally fell silent.

The door opened and I could hear Roger say.

“Jesus it’s dark in here.” I saw his shadow walk further in the room before finally the lights came on and we all jumped out and yelled.

“SURPRISE!!!” Roger jumped back with a hand over his heart but had a wide smile on his face. Freddie came up with a glass of Hungarian vodka for Roger and he said.

“Surprised Roger?”

“God am I ever.” At that we all softly chuckled as Freddie handed him the shot glass and Roger took a swing of it.  He then spotted me and said. “This your idea?”

“You know me I’m nowhere near the party planner as Freddie is. I was just part of the distraction so that way he could get everything set up.” I told him.  He then turned to Dominque and he said.

“You came too?”

“You really didn’t think I’d miss your birthday did you?” she came around wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Felix here too?”

“He’s with his uncles, I can take you there if you’d like. I think the boy needs to go to bed, poor little guy could barely keep his eyes open once we got off the plane.”

“Just like his dad.” I piped in.

“And his aunt for that matter.” Roger retaliated.  I playfully stuck my tongue at him and chuckled.

As the night went on, it was now time to cut the cake.  The hotel’s chefs brought it in and I was amazed at it.  It was a small 3 level, platform style vanilla cake with a sculpted Roger on the drums in chocolate, as well as decorated with chocolate musical notes.  And to make it very “Roger-y” there was even fire spurting out from the front ends of it, sparkling like sparklers on the 4th of July.

We all gathered around and proceeded to sing Happy Birthday to Roger.  I stood beside him so that he was sandwiched between me and Freddie. By the end of the song, he hugged and kissed my head first before turning to Freddie and hugged him.

“That’s the new drummer!” Freddie announced which made all of us laugh.  After that, I handed Roger the large cutting knife so that he could make the first cut of the cake.  

As we all gathered around the small cake, it was then Freddie said.

“Now I know you don’t like this Roger, but a girl is going to pop out of that.” At that point I just laughed and couldn’t help but roll my eyes.  If there were a girl in that cake then she’s have to be pixie sized like Tinkerbell. “Just try.”

“Not very big enough.” Roger said as the crowd all laughed and Roger took the first small cut and got his slice of the cake.  Then it was Dominque’s turn, then the guys, me and then the party guests.

There was mingling, dancing, and interviews going on.  I had just a bit of cake left to go over and tease Roger while he was on camera with the Hungarian press about why Queen had finally come to Hungary and what they got in return (why do I know this? Because they asked me the very same questions the first time I came here over three years ago).

I walked over as I heard Roger saying.

“There’s a tremendous feeling of sort of—I suppose job satisfaction. Is a strange way to put it.”

“It’s quite good to get job satisfaction after 14 years.” The interviewer asked Roger.

“Well it’s a pretty good job isn’t it?” at that point I dipped my finger into the vanilla frosting and came into the camera shot and bopped his nose before saying in a sing-song tone.

“Gotcha!” I grinned like the Cheshire cat at him and couldn’t help the giggles that came out of me.

“And of course this one makes it all the more traumatizing.” I gaped at him in mocked shock but he grinned and wrapped his arm around me and said, “No, no, no she makes it so much more fun. And she keeps us in line from killing each other.”

“That part is true.”

“So Rock Angel, a lot has happened since you were last here, what has returning to Hungary meant to you?” the interviewer asked me.

“Oh god well it has been awhile. In fact to be honest I was a little terrified cause there were still some doubt about letting Rock and roll into your country, but I was welcome with open arms by the majority of your people and now like three years later I’m welcome back like I’m visiting family again. Budapest has meant a lot to me and umm….I’m just happy to be back.”

“And with touring with one of the biggest bands of the world, what has that meant to you?”

“Oh these guys are my family. I—really wouldn’t know where I’d be if not for these four. They each inspired me all my life and I—I’m forever grateful to them.” Roger kissed my temple before getting his revenge by smearing a bit of cake onto my cheek. “Oh no you did not!”

“You bet your arse I did Angel.”

“You’re gonna get it Taylor!” Soon I chased after him with the actual cake in my hands.

The party was a huge success and everyone managed to get back to their hotel rooms even with as shitfaced as some of them were.  Roger and I were on the tipsy but still sober enough (since we all had the big concert tomorrow Queen and I made a pact to not get shitfaced so that way we could be presentable and show up for soundchecks tomorrow afternoon.)

“So birthday boy, did you have a fun night?”

“I did. Thank you soo much.”

“Oh hey I uhh—kinda swiped this away cause I wanted to sorta give it to you personally.” I held out my gift to him.

“I thought it was weird not seeing a present from you.” I handed it to him and we both sat down on the floor so that he could open it properly.  He tore the wrapping off and opened the box up to reveal an official signed copy of The Who’s last album before their breakup.

Apparently when I was recording with David Bowie on his album, I went to the coffee shop just down the road from the studio we were at and there I saw all members of “The Who” who were recording their own album in a separate studio.  We chatted a bit and I had asked them if they wouldn’t mind signing something for a father-figure in my life and amazingly they accepted.

“You’re a hard guy to shop for dad, cause you practically have everything so I—I hope this is okay.” He hugged me tightly and said.

“I love it darling. You knew they were my favorite band and hearing of their breakup made me in a foul mood for weeks. This really means a lot to me, even worth my entire home.”

“And your cars and yacht?”

“Even those lovie. Because it came from you. Although I would’ve been twice as happy if I had gotten your signed record.” He said as he cupped my chin and pressed his forehead against mine.  I smiled and felt him kiss my forehead.  “Get some sleep love, we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“I will, so long as you do as well.”

“I will. Goodnight love.”

“Night dad, happy birthday.” I gave him one last hug and he hugged me back, rocking us back and forth.

“Thank you my sweet lioness.” He gave me one final kiss on top of my head and headed down the hall towards his room.  I got into mine and did a quick shower and changed into my nightdress before finally getting into bed.

And as usual the next day was our concert.  We did our soundchecks at around 1pm and the stage crew got the entire stadium stage built throughout the entire afternoon.  Soundchecks started by about 7pm and then the concert began at 9pm.

As always the guys and I delivered a stellar performance that only Queen and the Rock Angel can do together.  We both even had a little surprise for the audience.  Freddie was performing the traditional Hungarian folk song “Tavaszi Szél Vizet Áraszt” and I with a translator, worked together in translating my song “Shallow” into Hungarian.

The two of us had been practicing our songs all day, he with Brian and I at the piano practicing by myself.  I would help him with some of the pronunciations of some of the words, and he’d help play the piano whenever I was distracted in trying to figure out how to say and play the words that were translated for me.  It was hard work but the two of us managed to do our songs for our beloved Hungarian fans.

By the end of the night, as me and the guys closed out with “We are the Champions” Freddie came out dolled up with the kingly robe and crown and he held the crown up to the audience before we finally closed the concert.  As the audience applauded us, I gathered with the guys to the edge of the stage as Freddie said into his mic.

“Goodnight, thank you very much. You beautiful people. God bless you we Love you.” As “God save the Queen” began playing I stood between Brian and Deacy as the three of us waved goodbye to the crowd.  While Freddie actually gave his crown and placed it on Roger’s head, however that only lasted like 2 seconds before it fell off his head and onto the lower segment of the stage.

I laughed and raced over to him and proclaimed.

“What was that Roger? Disrespecting the crown you royal fool!” he embraced me getting me even sweatier than I was at that point and I groaned in disgust leaving Deacy to pick up the crown and give it back to Freddie.  Deacy also spared me from Roger’s grip as he pulled me away and wrapped an arm protectively around me as the two of us waved the crowd goodbye before finally leaving the stage.

Another successful concert.  And with that we packed up our stuff, checked out of the hotel and went back on the road to our next gig.