Highly Recommended

Freddie Wiggins || 28 || PA @ InterPride || Semi-Famous

[every-last-inch-of-me]

Birthday Blues || Open

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

every-last-inch-of-me‌:

Gaston had always been quite enthusiastic about his birthday. It was the one day of the year that everyone had to shower him with praise and gifts and kind words. I mean, sure, they should have been doing that every day of the year anyway - he was spectacular, after all. But at least on this one there was a kind of moral obligation to be reminded how great you were by everyone you’d ever interacted with. People you hadn’t spoken to since school would post warming messages on your wall and everything would be wonderful.

Only this time it wasn’t.

Because today, Gaston was turning thirty.

He’d been half tempted to do like a Wine Mom and pretend that he was twenty-nine for the rest of his life, should anyone ask. But as things were, he thought he could better stave off the great number by pretending it wasn’t his birthday at all. Which, so far… wasn’t going very well. Mostly because he was totally incapable of assuming anything that was brought into his presence was not, in fact, a gift.

“Is that for me?” He asked, eyeing the next item to enter the room, half hidden by someone’s coat.

Freddie raised an eyebrow, looking down at the half-drunk coffee he’d been holding in his coat for warmth. “Uhm, it could be.” He said, holding it out to Gaston for him to take. “Why? What’s the occasion?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe and looking the man up and down. It wasn’t Christmas yet. People didn’t give gifts on Halloween, but with Gaston, he could be expecting a gift any day of the year for any reason. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” He said, “How’s the bar? Any better?” Freddie asked, having heard about it being trashed. He hadn’t been around that side of town for a while, but had wondered how Gaston was making do in the meantime. He’d meant to stop by, but one thing after another had kept him away. 

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

Tiger Tiger | Shere & Freddie

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

professor-lungri‌:

Shere waited to sit back down until after Freddie was comfortable, eyeing the bag that the younger man put on his desk in interest. Usually, he wouldn’t take what was supposed to have been someone else’s food, but he tugged the bag closer and peeked inside, pleased to see that it was something he could have. Fishing the bagel from the bag and setting it on top, quirking a brow and sporting a lopsided smile as he spread cream cheese across the top of his bagel. He’d caught the red tinge to the other man’s cheeks and, while he wasn’t going to draw attention to it, the Vaagh had seen it. 

“That’s true I suppose. You’re an office assistant, right? That would figure. Shera’s always doing something or another out front.” Shere laughed at the comment about the town always being busy. “Oh, you’ve got no bloody idea, mate. ‘S always busy here. All the magic. Makes everything go nuts.” But the Vaagh understood what he was trying to say, and the look on his face said as much. It was sympathetic as much as it was understanding.  

“A personal assistant, but it’s the same basic concept. I’ll rearrange a meeting, he’ll complain about when I’ve rearranged it to, I’ll move it again. I’ll liaise with the customers, liaise with the managers, it’s... it’s a lot.” Freddie sighed, “One of these days I’d like to be doing the actual job instead of assisting, but I’d need to go back to school and I just can’t work that out at the moment.” Freddie said, realising he was rambling on. 

“How long have you been here?” He asked, “You seem like part of the town itself.” He said, taking another bite of his bagel and a sip of his drink. Shere was easy to get along with, even after this short encounter, Freddie knew that much. “How long have you known Errol?” He asked, curious to see if there were any more information he could get out of Shere, any embarrassing stories or habits Shere had picked up over the years. 

[lostboy-peter-blog]

The Real Questions | Open

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

lostboy-peter‌:

Peter was bored. 

But more than bored, Peter was restless. 

Restless was a dangerous thing for Peter to be. He knew he couldn’t get drunk, but he drank anyway. He drank so much. He was on his seventh bottle of vodka when he started to feel a little extra frustrated and maybe a little bit warm. 

It really wasn’t fair, honestly, that he was stuck like this. He was doomed to forever be the same and wasn’t that just the worst? He wanted to break windows. He wanted to throw fireworks into buildings and watch everyone run out. He wanted to feel something besides the deep, aching sameness he’d felt for almost 400 years. 

He walked down the street, making sure to step on every single crack in the sidewalk. Who cared about bad luck, right? 

It was when he was hopping from one crack to another that he rammed into–well, whoever this was. 

“If you could come back in your next life as whatever you wanted, what would it be?” he asked with a dopey grin on his face. 

Freddie was just trying to get home. He’d gone out for drinks with the people from work, had a couple of glasses of wine and then moved onto soft drinks (in a move completely unlike Freddie Wiggins of old) and was resenting the bitter chill on his way home. 

He had his head buried down against the bitter wind, and didn’t see the other man until it was too late and he’d already collided. He muttered out his ‘sorry’ before registering the other’s question, poking his head out of his scarf to consider it. 

“I’d have to say something boring like a cat. Or maybe a lobster. They don’t die of old age and mate for life, I think.” Freddie said, shrugging, “What about you?” He asked, shoving his hands further in his pockets and making a mental reminder to buy a pair of gloves when he was next in town. 

[hngrylikethewoolf]

Birthday Boy || Fashion Police

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

hngrylikethewoolf‌:

The smile lingered against Errol’s mouth as the other man pushed back into the touch, allowing his hands to be moved, wrapping himself closer against the other man’s back. For a moment, he just stood there, content to beath in the same space as Frederick Wiggins occupied. It was profoundly comforting, in a way, Still, he laughed when the other turned around in his arms to face him, a crooked grin replacing the smaller one that had curled around his mouth a moment ago. 

“Maybe I jus’ missed ye. Ever fink about ‘at? I mean, sure, ‘s been a bit but we ain’t teenagers anymore. One day we’re gonna break somefin’. Be fun while it lasts though.” Nodding, the Irishman tilted his face into the kiss before releasing him, shaking his head at the slap to his ass. “Yer da’s a piece o’ work,” he called to Percy where he snuffled and snorted in his little bed. Delilah looked up at him, head cocked to the side, before settling down again once she realized he didn’t want anything from her. 

Taking a seat, the sheriff groaned quietly at the feeling of being off his feet, having been up and at ‘em for a few hours by that point. Quirking a brow at Freddie when he sat and immediately nudged his foot against Errol’s own, he curled his leg around the other man’s when he leaned forward, quickly dividing up some crepes onto two plates. 

“You didn’t need to go to so much effort.” Freddie said, hearing Errol’s Old Man Noise (tm) as he sat down. He softened, starting to munch his crepes. This was something he could get used to. Freddie could see why older guys wanted someone like him around, to take care of things like breakfast and lunch, to not have to worry about these sorts of things. To have things ready. 

He pondered a strawberry dusted with powdered sugar before popping it into his mouth. It took a moment for Freddie’s words to fully sink in. He came over to do something nice just because. Not for sex, not for any other reason than just wanting to do something nice and spend time with Freddie. It shouldn’t keep surprising him. He knew there was something deeper with Errol, it wasn’t just physical or transactional. Still, old habits die hard. 

“Do I have you for long today, Errol?” He asked, breaking the silence and punctuating himself with a sip of coffee.

[wizardroyale]

Life, Love and the Pursuit of Coffee || Fredteo

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

freddie-eddie-wiggins‌:

wizardroyale‌:

Mateo grinned, happy to see that Freddie was so interested! Most non-sorcerers got a kind of glazed over look whenever he started going off on a magical tangent.

“Umm…Im pretty sure you have to have a sorcerer’s bloodline to do that properly. But you know what?” he leaned forward over his elbows, his eyes sparking with enthusiasm, “With a little study, practice and the right ingredients, you could definitely brew potions!” He thought a moment, drumming his fingers in the table before continuing, “Like health and healing potions are most common. Umm—I have a book you borrow if you’re interested!

He paused, his expression shifting to that of one about to confess to a great conspiracy. "So…would you like to see? A procurement, that is?”

Freddie nodded, taking another sip of his smoothie and folding his hands on the table. “I would love to see. Procure something for me, I’d love to see how you do it.” He said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of seeing some actual magic being done. The ability to make his own healing potions would be forever useful, what with his bad habits and Errol’s profession. 

“You really think I could make healing potions? Would you teach me?” He asked, “I’d pay you, or if there’s anything you need my help with, I’d do a favour for a favour.” Freddie said, so glad he ran into Mateo in the cinema. He was so enthusiastic and kind with teaching Freddie about his craft. Freddie had struggled before trying to ask Magick people questions, he knew sometimes they were the wrong thing to say, or rude questions to ask, but Mateo never made him feel stupid for asking. 

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

Tiger Tiger | Shere & Freddie

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

professor-lungri‌:

@freddie-eddie-wiggins

With the recent uptick in death and crime that had begun to plague Swynlake in the last few weeks, the volunteers of the magick taskforce were being tossed in head first, chin-deep in the water. It wasn’t anything new, unfortunately, seeing as there seemed to always be something going on in this sleepy, little Magick-friendly town. Shere didn’t mind it, really. Once you learned to navigate it all it became second nature. 

Holed up in one of the spare offices later in the afternoon, the Vaagh was scratching away at some reports when someone poked their head around the door. Glancing up over the rim of his spectacles, the man was surprised to find Freddie Wiggins standing there. The pair saw one another in passing, exchanged pleasantries every so often. The younger man had become a common sight traipsing through the precinct or, well, during the lunch hour. He and the county sheriff were an item, after all. The bloke was nice enough, in his own way, but Shere had never gotten a proper chance to talk with him. 

Well, now seemed to be the perfect chance. 

Closing the file he’d been working on, the Vaagh leaned back in his seat before standing a moment later. “Not anymore. I’m due for a break, anyhow. Come sit down, Freddie. He’s out for the afternoon, I believe. Had to go make a few house calls.” Or, well, something like that anyway. Errol had a much larger jurisdiction than the police here did as the sheriff for the county. “Surprised you didn’t know that,” he quipped, a small smile curling around the corners of his mouth, “but what can I do for you, in the meantime?” 

Freddie beamed at the invite in and did as he was invited, taking a seat with Shere and setting the lunch bag down on the table. “Help yourself, if he’s out all afternoon he’ll find something to eat out there.” Freddie said, taking out his own bagel and spreading the paper it came in out on his lap. The last thing he needed was a dollop of cream cheese on these suit pants. He caught the quip and tried to resist the colour coming to his cheeks. “He only texts me if he’s going to be late to dinner.” Freddie said, shrugging, “If he text me every time he was out of office my phone would never stop ringing. Not that it does anyway with my work but...” Freddie said, sighing and leaning back in the chair.

“You guys always seem so busy for how small a town this is. I mean, I wasn’t friends with the police in Lond-” Freddie trailed off, “I was on a first name basis with several of them, but not like this.” He corrected, “You’re always rushed off your feet. God knows Errol brings so much of it home.” He said, something slippery and uneasy settling in his gut when he spoke about Errol and Home in the same sentence with someone else. Errol knew well enough he was Freddie’s home, but telling other people that just seemed like something deeper. 

[hngrylikethewoolf]

Birthday Boy || Fashion Police

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

hngrylikethewoolf‌: 

The smirk that curled around Errol’s mouth was molasses-slow, languishing in the bright red heat he saw creeping across Freddie’s cheeks and down his neck. Careful, the sheriff leaned forward and nosed at the top of the other man’s spine, dragging soft kisses down the exposed parts of his neck, his answer hummed out against the younger man’s skin. Just to make a point, of course. There was something so nice about this, the easiness of the morning and being able to share it with someone. 

More and more he’d begun to think about it, how nice it would be if this was every day. If they didn’t have to go back and forth between flats. But, well, things were good. Better than. A part of him, selfish, did not want to ruin that. 

“Breakfast first,” he agreed, rubbing his cheek lazily against the other man’s shoulder for a second more of contact. When Freddie pulled away, Errol followed, not quite ready to let go of the other man just yet. Even the ridiculous voluminousness of Freddie’s robe didn’t rob him of that and he was profoundly, absurdly, grateful. Shaking his head at the question, the Irishman pushed a hand through his curls and smiled, lip curling upward to show the white of his teeth. 

“Nae, she ate after our run. Thank ye, though. She might do wif a treat or two, but ‘at can wait till later, if ye wanna.” 

Freddie tilted his head back into the touch, shivering at the bristle of Errol’s stubble against the nape of his neck. He felt his hair catch in it and moved Errol’s hands around his waist, He could stand here all morning, warmed by Errol’s body, with the smell of pancakes wafting through from the kitchen. “It’s starting to feel like you don’t want breakfast first, love.” Freddie said, turning around to face Errol, making sure the Irishman’s hands stayed on his hips. 

“Though, I can’t blame you, it’s been what... two days? That’s a long time for us.” Freddie said, tilting his head and brushing his hair over his shoulder. “Give me a moment to freshen up, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He said, kissing Errol’s cheek and sending him off with a pat to the arse. 

He stopped in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, making sure his facial hair was the shape it was meant to be, and tying his hair up before he made it through to the kitchen, impressed but not surprised by the effort Errol had made. He sat down, immediately brushing his foot against Errol’s under the table.

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

Tiger Tiger | Shere & Freddie

Freddie walked into the police station, a regular face among the usual thrum now, though not for the reasons he used to be. He nodded to the receptionist, handing her the egg and tomato sandwich he’d made for her earlier. He’d learnt she got less uncomfortable with Freddie swanning in and making a home in Errol’s office. 

He continued through, knowing Errol’s office hadn’t been used this morning. There was no telltale mug on the desk, no papers ruffled, no trace of Del anywhere. Freddie liked to think he’d be a good detective if he had the patience, but then again, Errol was keen and clever and often left Freddie in the dust when it came to observation. 

He sighed, leaving the room almost as he found it. A post it note scribbled with ‘Miss you, xxx’ on the desk was the only sign he’d been there. 

He poked his head around the next door, giving Shere a grin. “Are you busy?” Freddie asked, “Errol’s out, isn’t he?”

[jacquescrevette]

Something Good | Open

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

jacquescrevette‌:

For a moment, Jacques was quite confused by the question that this stranger was asking him. Did he study how to become a magick? It sounded like an odd idea. Could magick just be studied? Perhaps sorcerers had that to an extent. But no, magic was still required, he was fairly sure.

Then again, he had very little idea of how any magic worked other than his own. But he admired every other type just as much. It was fun to learn about them. And talking about it really.

“Hmmm…” his eyebrows furrowed as he considered the question. “I suppose if it is something that comes from birth then it is natural. Though did I figure out control of it quickly? No, no I would not say so.” Well, he knew how it worked now and how to control it, but he couldn’t control the side effects to his body. But he didn’t much mind them if it meant it helped other people. “But should you ever have an injury, I could definitely help.”

Freddie was a little disappointed by the answer. The more he learnt about magic, the more he wanted to learn it, to be able to do things with it. Still, he supposed that was his lot in life. He couldn’t pull off halternecks, or magic spells. 

“An injury? I could have used that recently. My boyfriend and I got in a bar fight, and it didn’t end well for anyone. I don’t suit a black eye.” Freddie said. “Do you work in the hospital then? Or is that like information overload for your magic?” He asked, his mind telling him after he had already accosted the stranger that perhaps this wasn’t polite conversation for someone you just had walk into you, but the damage was already done, and Freddie had learnt long ago you couldn’t take something back once said. 

[wizardroyale]

Life, Love and the Pursuit of Coffee || Fredteo

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

wizardroyale‌:

Mateo listened, sympathy sparking in his eyes. It was always a little sad to remember that there were people in the world who were against magic of all kinds. He honestly felt sorry for them. People like Freddie’s father were missing out!

“Oh! Well, ok then! I just didn’t want to bore you with the basics if you already knew them, ya know?” Mateo grinned, shoving his hair back behind his ear again before continuing, leaning in on his elbows as if about to reveal one of the world’s great mysteries, “Well, procurement is the process of collecting abstract ingredients required for spells. Ingredients most people can’t just go outside and pick up, stuff like ‘Light of the Full Moon’ and ’Shy Smile” and stuff like that!”

“And those ingredients are called reagents. Does that make sense?”

“That sounds like so much fun. Can Mundus do it if they study hard, or do you need to be magic to get things like that?” Freddie asked, imagining skipping around in the moonlight capturing toads croaks and squirrels blinks. It all seemed very romantic. He’d never considered that people actually needed to gather those things, he just thought they came about if you were magic. 

“If you ever want anything from me though, let me know. I am happy to sacrifice my hair, one strand per month, or any of my flirtatious glances.” Freddie said, somehow wanting to be involved. 

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

Guess who’s back || Fashion Police

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

hngrylikethewoolf‌:

Freddie sat and Errol followed, standing in the V of his legs, fingers curling around his hand, his thumb soothing circles into the skin. When the man mentioned the awkward time he’d had with the strippers, he laughed. “Did I ever tell ye t’ time ‘at a group o’ women mistook me fer one? A stripper, ‘at is.” Errol paused, smile widening as he remembered, edging closer to the man to reach a hand up and fix a strand of hair. “Was early on, jus’ after I’d got ‘ome. Someone called in a noise complain an’ when they answered t’ door it was a bachelorette. Didna believe me ‘til I called intae t’ station an’ they confirmed it.” 

There was something freeing about talking to Freddie again, seeing him after his absence. Sure, he could reminisce about these kinds of things with anyone, particularly those that’d been around when it happened, but there was a certain joy he found in talking to him that he didn’t with other people. Behind them, the kettle whistled and popped merrily on top of the stove. Errol would keep an eye out for it. For now, the sheriff raised a hand and cupped the other man’s jaw with the hand not holding Freddie’s hand, fingers caressing his cheek and jaw through the coarse hair of his beard.

True mirth crossed his face when Freddie said something about his friends. He pressed closer, hand falling from Freddie’s face to curl around the side of his neck, merely wanting to be around him. Christ, he’d fuckin’ missed him. “’s ‘at right? ‘S’pose ‘at makes sense. Most people do.” He shook his head at the question, a bit of a furrow creasing the skin of his forehead. “Don’ need tae. Whatever ye did before ain’t none o’ me business, long as it don’ ‘urt ye. ‘at’s what I care about, right?” 

Errol pulled away long enough to move the kettle and pour Freddie a cup when the whistle screamed at them before he was settled back in the space he’d vacated. The takeaway smelled wonderful, really, but Errol wasn’t quite hungry yet. Instead, he nodded and bowed his head, pressing his face into the other man’s hair for a moment. “Missed ye, Fred,” he murmured, voice quiet but the words echoing around the silence of his flat. 

It felt more like home again, with Freddie in it. 

Freddie tilted his head back as Errol curled his hand around his neck, relaxed by the contact, as thought it were holding him together, and in some ways it was. He could imagine someone mistaking Errol for a stripper, especially if he were younger, fresh on the force, maybe just as fit as he is now, just with the tone that came from youth. Not that Freddie was partial to that. He much preferred Errol as he was. 

He was reassured by Errol’s promise that it didn’t matter what he had done, so long as it didn’t hurt him. It made him. It made him think things would be fine, so long as he just stopped using. If he stopped using things would be in the past, Errol wouldn’t find out, and he wouldn’t hate him, and everything would be perfect. Only, Freddie couldn’t stop. Even with Errol was the most effective distraction he’d ever had, he still had that itch on a Friday night, that knowledge he could be having more fun, feeling better. 

He turned his head and kissed Errol’s wrist, keeping his lips there until thoughts of his next Friday, and the date he had with the powder in his sock drawer left him. 

“Miss you too, Errol.” Freddie murmured, taking Errol by the hips and encouraging him to sit and straddle his lap. He tucked his head into Errol’s chest and closed his eyes. “I really missed you.” 

[jacquescrevette]

Something Good | Open

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

jacquescrevette‌:

So Jacques got stepped on. Honestly, considering how carelessly he’d been dancing in his excitement returning to town, he sort of deserved it. And since he’d hit the guy in the face…well. They really were even weren’t they? 

A sheepish smile spread across his face. “I suppose that is good advice. But sometimes you must!” Jacques argued, passionate in his enthusiasm for dancing when the mood strikes. If the music or the mood hit, then why shouldn’t one dance around in the middle of a street or sidewalk?

“Oh. Pardon. Not quite.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It is more like…I can heal your hurts if there is something…physically there. If, for example, I caused your nose to bleed after I hit you in the face.”

Freddie considered that. A built in stain remover was also useful, and cute. Not that that mattered anymore. For the second time in his life, Freddie Eddie Wiggins was officially Off The Market. Though, it was hardly comparable to the first time. 

With this new title of boyfriend, Freddie found the attractiveness of strangers fading away. Of course, this guy had a lovely smile, and was well built, but Errol’s smile was better, the twinkle in his eyes shinier, and most of all Freddie knew when that smile was directed at him, it was directed at him despite everything Errol already knew about him. 

“Did you have to study that, or is it natural?” Freddie asked, forever intrigued by people’s powers. 

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

Guess who’s back || Fashion Police

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

hngrylikethewoolf‌

Errol raised a brow at the admission before stepping back and turning on his heel to get into the flat’s kitchen. Reaching a hand up into the cupboards, the Irishman pulled a mug down and flicked the stovetop on. Next came the kettle. Then, he came to stand back in front of the taller man, head tilting up and to the side as he quirked his lip up into a smile. “Irish cure all’s on t’ stove. Ye can sleep it off ‘ere. Or ye can tell me ‘ow it was?”

He’d missed the man, honestly, he well and truly had. There was a heaviness around when Freddie wasn’t here. Something…unsteady under his feet. It was an odd sensation, and one he was entirely unfamiliar with, but Errol had taken it in stride, just like he had every knew development about himself. 

Wrapping a hand around Freddie’s bicep, Errol steered him towards a chair and gently urged him to sit. He’d seen the look on his face when he yawned. He didn’t need to be scrubbing his hair out this late. The comment about being his plus one to the wedding made him smile, and the sheriff nodded. “I’d like ‘at Fred but, first, let’s soak up some o’ ‘at alcohol, eh? What d’yah want, luv? Ye got plenty.”

“It was good. There were strippers, so many strippers. Women strippers, so I just sat there a bit awkwardly, but kept drinking anyway.” Freddie said, “Mm, wished you were there, really wished you were there, they all asked about you, could tell the second I showed up that I was...” He paused, cuddling into Errol’s shoulder. “That I was with someone. Asked what you were like, they all about pissed themselves when I told them you were police.” Freddie said, “Tell me you haven’t peeked at my criminal record yet?” 

He sat down when Errol guided him, unpacking the Chinese and taking hold of the bag of prawn crackers, gently starting to nibble on them to try and settle his stomach. “You help yourself, I don’t know how much I’m going to eat, darling.” He said, holding his arm out to Errol, aware he was going off to make tea, but unwilling to have him out of grasp. 

[jacquescrevette]

Something Good | Open

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

jacquescrevette‌:

It was time. Jacques had scrounged and saved up…well sort of. He’d saved up a little so that he might just go back to the town where he’d been the happiest once. His father had expressed some concern, but oh well. Jacques had a great feeling about it. He’d return to town and he’d do some good, and all would be well.

He’d even started off with a good song, as nothing made a return to town better than with a peppy bright song to start the day. Headphones in, he started making his way down main street. “Woke up this mornin’ feelin’ fineee, there’s somethin special on my mind….” He sort of did a shimmy twirl around and then continued on his way. Herman’s Hermits brought a fun energy to his day. As did most music really.

“Somethin’ tells me I’m into something good,” the song played and he bobbed his head enthusiastically, spreading his arms out as if to further the dance, and then realizing that he spread them so fast and abruptly that he…hit someone in the face. “Oh! Oh pardon!” He paused the music, quickly turning to face the person. “If it really stings I can fix that?” Though he doubted he could have injured anyone to the point of bleeding with a accidental smack.

Freddie had been smacked a few times in his life, but never with quite so much vigour. In his shock he caught his balance forward, grinding the ball of his foot into the top of the other man’s. He startled back as soon as he realised, an apology slipping from his mouth as easily  was water. “It’s fine, really, I suppose we’re even now.” He said, touching his nose gingerly and hoping it didn’t bruise. Bruises were a pain to cover with concealer, and Freddie liked a bare-faced sun kissed look. On top of that, he didn’t want to explain to Errol he just accidentally walked into some strangers hand in the street. 

“Maybe just confine the dancing to your home, or enclosed spaces.” He suggested, “And I’ll try not to tread on any strangers in the future too.” He said, catching onto something the other had said though. 

“Did you say you could fix pain though?” Freddie asked, curiosity piqued. 

[hngrylikethewoolf]

Birthday Boy || Fashion Police

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

hngrylikethewoolf‌:

The sheriff chuckled quietly as Delilah’s tail thumped against the bedsheets, Freddie’s face snuggled into her side when he rolled over. He didn’t move away from the doorjamb until Freddie sat up, and only then to straighten up and call Del back into the living room. Errol didn’t need to look to know that she’d gone to curl up with Percy again. For whatever reason, she was inordinately fond of the snorting little pig-dog. “She ‘anted tah wish ye a good mornin’, I fink.” 

Shrugging a bit at the question, Errol dropped his arms to his sides and cocked his head, taking in the bedhead and the general unkempt features sleep had brought to Freddie’s face. It pulled a smile to his own face, one that he was remiss to squash. “Let meself in wif t’ spare. Figured ‘d surprise ye. Figured ye’d’ve thought I forgot. I didn’.” 

Freddie stood and Errol craned his neck a bit, watching his face as he came closer. The scratch of his facial hair against his cheek made the Irishman laugh, but even more so did his comment. The pat on his arse aside, Errol didn’t think Freddie taking a shower quite yet was in the cards. Snaking an arm around the other man’s waist, Errol tugged at him a bit to get him to stop, propping his forehead up against his back as he spoke. 

“Now where’s t’ sense in ‘at, luv? Jus’ come eat. Open yer gift. ‘ve called out so I can join ye in too, when we’re through.” The coaxing, slightly filthy tone was delivered with a grin and he craned his neck to peek at the other man’s face, wondering if he’d take him up on the offer or not. 

Freddie smiled and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes, giving himself a moment to properly wake up. He stayed close to Errol’s side, the man’s warmth just as comforting the warmth from the duvet he’d left behind. The fact that Errol had just let himself in warmed him even further, and he longed for the day - as he found himself doing now - that Errol didn’t need to let himself in, because he just lived here. 

Freddie cuddled into his neck, blushing heavily. “Breakfast, gifts and shower sex?” He asked, waking up a little and tangling his fingers with Errol slowly, the feel of his large hands sending a lick of fire down his spine. “Breakfast first though.” He said, walking through to the kitchen, grabbing his robe off the door on the way through. 

As soon as he headed into the kitchen, Percy stood and trotted behind him, expecting breakfast too. “Has Del eaten or should I give her breakfast too?” Freddie asked, knowing Errol would likely disapprove of anything he wanted to give to Delilah. She was a well oiled, and well loved machine. Whereas Percy was just a spoilt little hippo. 

[wizardroyale]

Life, Love and the Pursuit of Coffee || Fredteo

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

wizardroyale‌:

Mateo didn’t think Freddie sounded like an idiot at all. He sounded—a lot like Mateo, in fact. Well, Mateo back when he and Elena had started dating; before he had ruined literally everything. He remembered that overwhelming warm feeling, like his insides had been turned to gooey melted cheese or something. So much nicer than the knot of anxiety and unhappiness that currently resided in its place.

But he wasn’t going to think about that! This was about Freddie!

Mateo smiled, sincerely happy for his friend. “That’s really great Freddie! I’m so happy for you!” He wanted to ask more, but decided to leave it at that, worried about prying into personal matters.

“And the book! It has spells and theory, actually,” Mateo continued, giving his coffee a little stir, “I’ve only just started but I found this fascinating discussion my grandfather wrote about wandless procurement that I’ve been spending most of my time on. It’s a skill I’ve been wanting to work on and it seems my time has finally come.”

He paused, glancing uncertainly across the table at Freddie. “Um, how much do you know about magic? Like, do you know about reagents and procurement?”

Freddie listened with rapt attention, having no idea really what Mateo was on about, but wanting to know nonetheless. Magic seemed like hard work, like an area of study built into your very being. Freddie was grateful for not having the extra work, but it was still so interesting. He couldn’t imagine having some sort of power other people didn’t. The power to influence things, or create things, whatever it was Mateo did. 

“Wandless? That sounds impressive. And to have something your grandfather wrote still helping you today? I’d love to have that sort of legacy to look back on.” Freddie said, sipping his drink as he considered Mateo’s question. 

“I know next to nothing. I know some people have it and some people don’t. My father kept me really in the dark about it. He didn’t want me ending up any sort of different, so Magick culture was off the table.”

[miss-marian]

Moving In || Open

[freddie-eddie-wiggins]

miss-marian‌:

Marian offered a small nod as the man offered her clock forward, bending her elbow so it opened a crack in one of the bags she was carrying, in hopes he’d drop it in there. When she’d first heard it twang against the ground she’d almost hoped it had exploded. After all, it was the reason she couldn’t hear the sound of a bell, however quiet, without having a mini hear attack.

“Well,” she smiled, glancing back at the open boot of her car, “there are a few bits left in my car if you want to grab them.” If someone was offering help, she was going to capitalise on the offer. What was better than only having to do one trip? “Just don’t shut the car. It might get stuck.” For as long as she’d had her little Morris Minor, she’d been playing car-boot roulette with it. Some months it’d be great. Some months it jammed every other day and if she believed that cars had spirits, she’d think it was spelling out ‘I hate you, Marian’ in smoke. But she’d be careful, just in case. They had just driven almost 200 miles in one sitting.

Freddie felt a little odd about leaving the boot of a car open in the middle of a public space. But then again, looking at the car, it didn’t look like anyone would want to steal it. He was just used to having to guard his things against people who might want to steal them. He could’t imagine it being the opposite. 

He collected up the miscellaneous belongings and followed her to her new place. Following her, he didn’t have much to look at. He wasn’t exactly one to appreciate the female form like some other man might. Instead his eyes followed that mane of red hair with something close to awe. It was such a rich colour, clearly natural. No sort of dye could produce that colour and that health. 

“Are you new to town or just moving houses?” Freddie asked.