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onebatch2batch · 3 years ago

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Heyo, dialogue prompts: 14 or 30? 😊

HI THIS WAS FROM FOREVER AGO BUUUUUT that's my m.o. so here we are. Hope you like it!!

And no, I'm never going to stop writing different versions of Frank and Karen getting together, you can't make me :)

14. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

Frank can practically hear David scheming, and he’s proven right when an anthropomorphic mop of hair bends into his line of sight and he says, “Hey, remember in the bunker, when we were still on the run?”

They’re both standing in David’s front yard. Frank’s van is in need of an oil change and a replacement filter and since he’s not keen on anyone else working on his getaway vehicle, he called up David to request use of his paved, suburban driveway. It’s been a few weeks since he’s managed to get over here, and David had instantly agreed on the condition that Frank stay for dinner. It’s a beautiful summer day, even if it’s a little hot, and he’s feeling a little off-kilter from the sounds of children playing all around. It’s so painfully normal that for a moment he’d regretted asking, and then David had offered him a drink. The taller computer genius doesn’t know shit about cars, so he’s alternating between fetching more beers and talking Frank’s ear off. It’s been about an hour now, and Frank has slowly relaxed into the background noise.

“Yeah,” Frank responds dryly around the flashlight between his teeth. He’s elbow deep in grease and not really interested in where this line of questioning is going to go, but David has other ideas.

“Uh huh. You know, when you got yourself on the news after that kid held Karen hostage?”

If Frank is affected by the name, all David notices is a sharp glance. “Yeah.”

“And how you freaked out and begged for my help and said she was family?”

Frank straightens and sets the flashlight down on the bumper of the car. “You got a point, Lieberman? I’m busy.”

“Yeah, I have a point. Was that all just bullshit, or what?”

They stare at each other. Frank’s jaw ticks.

“...what.”

“Thought so.”

“No, what?”

“Well you made this huge declaration and then almost got yourself killed trying to rescue her so--”

“God damn it, Lieberman, you’re never going to let that go, are you--”

David shakes his head, exasperated. “I mean, we haven’t even gotten to meet her yet and it’s been six months since Madini used her government wiles to give you a new identity--”

Frank scowls. “It’s none of your--”

The other man cuts him off quickly, hands up. To Frank’s immense displeasure, the other man looks less cowed and more placating. “I’m just saying, invite her to dinner next week. What harm is there? Maybe something good might happen to you for once, god forbid.” His friend stares him down, using every couple of inches of height to try and look intimidating. Of course it doesn’t work, but Frank is too busy thinking about having a family dinner with Karen, with his friends, like a normal person. Like a couple. He realizes too slow that David is leering at him, pleased.

“David, shut the hell up.”

“You’re blushing. Is that a yes? I’ll tell Sarah.”

Karen doesn’t question it when Frank calls her up after half a year of radio silence. She asks if it's a casual dress dinner and what kind of wine to bring, and then announces she’s got to go and she’ll see him Friday at six sharp.

He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than her just telling him to shove it.

Friday creeps up on him, and by the time he parks outside of her apartment it hasn’t really sunk in that he’s about to take Karen Page to a domestic dinner in the suburbs. Because it’s definitely not a date, even though it kind of is. It’s the stuff he used to do with Maria and the kids all the time when he was on leave; double dates and cook outs and all that crap. He’s rusty as hell and usually shit company, but they keep asking him back. And now, he’s throwing Karen into the mix.

It’s a feeling similar to being shot in the head and waking up in a hospital room. Disorienting and uncomfortable as hell.

He picks her up in the van, leaning against the side of it as he waits. The Lieberman’s neighborhood is outside the city, about a twenty minute drive. It’s going to give them plenty of time to talk, and he’d barely restrained himself from looking up conversation starters online before leaving his place. He doubts there’s any suggestions for a vigilante-cum-construction worker who’s picking up a date he’s spoken a handful of words to for the first time in six months. He’s just considering cancelling the whole thing when the door to her building opens and she steps out.

He’s seen Karen a lot of ways. He’s seen her in pencil skirts and heels and blouses, in tshirt and jeans, bruised and bloody. He’s never seen her in a sundress with her pinked shoulders bare to the world and strappy sandals on her feet. Her hair is in a long braid over her shoulder. She looks fucking resplendant. Absolutely divine. Fucking poetry in motion.

He’s fucked.

“Hi,” she greets, coming to a stop in front of him. She’s got a bottle of wine in her hands. Her eyes punch little, individual question marks into his skin when she searches his face.

“Hey.” He inhales, bracing for her reaction. His throat closes up when he gets a whiff of her perfume. So familiar from the handful of times he’s been close enough to smell it--something soft and floral, something that makes his head swim. He thinks back to that moment so many months ago, swaying together in the elevator, her skin against his, her perfume subtle under the metallic tang of blood.

Karen doesn’t immediately go for interrogating him. She only lifts the bottle in her hand. “I brought a white, is that okay?”

Wary relief loosens the knot at the top of his spine. He nods, pushing off the car to open her door. “Sure.”

When Karen climbs in, carefully arranging her skirt around her, the dark interior contrasting with the soft yellow of her dress, Frank thinks about a conversation with Curtis all those months ago. Wonders when the kick is coming.

They spend the first ten minutes looking out separate windows and listening to the radio. After that, Karen starts talking like she’s made her mind up about the evening is going to go. She asks him how he’s been, if he’s gotten a job, how Dinah is, what the Liebermans are like. Nothing is accusatory. They could be old friends passing one another on the street, the way she’s talking. Almost like she’s talking to a scared dog. Coaxing it out of a corner.

Guess he deserves that.

By the time he pulls onto the appropriate street, it almost feels normal. They’ve fallen into a familiar back and forth that’s easy to keep up with, and when he opens her door she gives him a small grateful smile, accepting his hand on the way down.

He’s not disappointed when she lets go to straighten the fabric of her dress. He’s not.

As always, the Lieberman household is an explosion of domesticity. There’s shoes on the stairs, a sweet smelling candle burning on the coffee table, toys and books strewn over the floor. Pictures line the walls. When Frank knocks on the door, Zach opens it like he’s been waiting for them.

“ Hi, Pete!” he greets excitedly, and then his eyes land on Karen. “Who’s that?”

“Hello, I’m Karen Page.” She crouches down to look him in the eye and smiles. “You must be Zach, right?”

He flushes, twisting his fingers nervously. “Yeah. Are you Pete’s girlfriend?”

They’re saved from answering by a sudden, high pitched shriek. “Frank!!”

Karen manages to stand out of the way just in time for Leo to come barrelling down the stairs directly into Frank, hugging him tightly around the middle.

“Frank, Dad says you were here Saturday but you were gone before I left Ann’s house!!” she pulls away and waves a book at him. “I’m reading the book you told me about!”

He grins down at her. “I waited around for ya, but your mom said you wouldn’t be home until later. How’s the book, huh?”

She scrunches her nose. “I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know. Are you Karen?”

Karen laughs. “I sure am. Leo, right?”

“That’s me. Come on, my mom is in the kitchen.” She nudges Zach and then four of them head into the other room. Sarah Lieberman is standing behind the kitchen counter, chopping up a head of lettuce. When they walk in, she beams at them.

“Hey guys, welcome! Hang on, let me finish this. Pete, David’s out in the garage trying to fix the sprinklers. Can you--?”

Frank rolls his eyes. “Say no more.”

He lifts his brows at Karen, but she gives him a jerk of her head. Frank huffs and stalks off after kissing Sarah on the cheek, Leo trailing after him talking about sprinkler systems and tools. Zach joins his mother behind the counter and peers at Karen curiously. She sets the bottle of wine down.

“So Karen!” Sarah exclaims, dumping the lettuce into a bowl. “Let’s get you a glass of wine and chat. How’s that sound?”

They end up on the patio furniture. After completing the salad and sides, Sarah turns on the grill and then ushers them to the corner of the patio, refilling their glasses.

“So,” she starts, and peers at Karen over the rim of her glass. “I’m going to be forward, but I get the feeling you’ll appreciate that. What’s the deal with you and Pete? Sorry--habit. Frank.”

Karen could have guessed this was coming, even if she expected a little more subtlety. And Sarah’s right, she appreciates the bluntness. It gives her a chance to answer in kind.

“I don’t know.” She runs a finger over the rim of her glass, frowning. “I haven’t--we haven’t spoken in...a while. Six months, actually. And the last time I saw him..well, it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I thought I scared him off, actually.”

“How so?”

And the story falls out of her mouth, in pieces. She hasn’t spoken to anyone about Frank, about her feelings for him--the good or bad--or about that afternoon in the hospital. “--and I thought...I thought maybe he would finally kiss me.” She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. “And then he pulled that I’m not a hero bullshit and that’s the last I saw of him. Until he called this week.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “That sounds like him. Honey, did you know when we first met he was gathering information on David?”

“Ah, yes. I was the one who found David for him.” She grimaces. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be! We’re lucky he came looking. Without him…” she shrugs. “I would still be a widow. And my kids still wouldn’t have their father. I’m just trying to say he may do things backwards, but he ends up doing things for the right reasons. Even if it takes him time to figure that out.”

Dinner goes well. Dinner goes really, really well. Not that Frank was worried--there isn’t a person alive who can sit down with Karen Page and at the very least admire her. The Liebermans fall in love with her immediately. The kids demand that she stay for a board game after dinner. Leo brags about her science project. Zach shyly asks if Karen likes football. Sarah drills her with questions about her job. David keeps her laughing while stupid jokes and send Frank knowing glances throughout dinner that makes Frank want to throw peas at him.

Karen is charming, sweet, and great with the kids. She gets along with David and Sarah, and sends him warm, unsure smiles until dessert.

They play Apples to Apples, and the kids decimate. Karen is a close third. Frank loses terribly, but he’s still busy ruminating over the warm feeling in his chest at the cacophony of noise that surrounds him as everyone submits to another peal of laughter to notice.

“Frank,” Leo says innocently once they’ve put the board game away and Sarah has told the kids it’s time for bed. She stands in the doorway to the kitchen and looks at him sternly, hands on her hips. “Please bring Karen around more. It’s not fair that you get to hog her and we’ve just met.”

“Leo, that’s Miss Page to you.” Sarah tries for sharpness but ends up laughing. “Off to bed. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“Bye Miss Page!” the kids chorus, and then it’s just the adults.

“Great kids,” Karen laughs. “Smart, too. You’re in trouble.”

Sarah sighs and pats her husband’s cheek fondly. “Yeah, we know. Somehow both of them got his brain.”

David chuckles, turns quickly to press a kiss to his wife’s palm. “At least they didn’t get my hair,” he jokes.

Karen sneaks a glance at Frank, then quickly looks away. He catches it, just briefly, as does David.

“Sarah, we should probably make sure the kids are actually brushing their teeth. I’ll tackle Leo if you tackle Zach, tag team it? We’ll be right back, guys.”

It’s quiet in the kitchen after that. Karen takes a sip of her wine and taps her fingers. There’s something on her mind, he can tell. When she doesn’t say anything he leans forward to capture her gaze. “What is it?”

“Why now, Frank?” Karen asks.

The conversation he’s been dreading. A feeling of shame bubbles up so suddenly it nearly knocks him off his chair. He scratches his neck for no reason other than to expel the nervous energy building in him.

“I didn’t want to…” There’s no use pretending like they’re talking about something else, not when she’s staring at him like that. Like she's been waiting all night for this conversation while he’s been tricking himself into thinking it may not happen. His finger dances restlessly on the table top. “I didn’t want to get you sucked back in.”

“Into what?” She arches a brow. “You?”

“Me. My life. My goddamn baggage. I know you deserve better than me.” He clears his throat. “So I wanted you to have a chance to live your life without my ghosts hanging around.”

“Frank Castle,” Karen sighs, exasperated, “please don’t tell me you’re making decisions for me. And that still doesn’t answer my question--why now?”

His expression tightens. “C’mon Karen. I’m just tryin’ to keep you safe--”

“How many times do I have to tell you--”

“As many as it ta--”

“Frank--” David steps into the kitchen, Sarah in tow. They pause, looking between the two people seated at the table awkwardly. “Oh, are we interrupting something?”

“No, David. Thank you both for tonight. I think I should be going.” Karen stands and looks at Frank. “I have loved you for two years, Frank. No amount of avoiding me or trying to protect me is going to change that. Excuse me.”

And then she walks away.

He catches up to her just down the street. As soon as he sees that familiar head of blond hair he pulls the van over and hops out, jogging to catch up. Karen glances at him and then pauses, as if waiting for something.

“Let me drive you home,” he asks. “Please.”

He doesn’t take her home straight away; she doesn’t ask. Frank drives until he finds a spot overlooking the water. The heat has finally broken and a cool breeze comes in through the open window, stirring Karen’s hair. He shuts off the engine. They sit in silence while he tries to decide what to say.

“I guess I should start by apologizing,” he says finally, tapping the steering wheel. He’s past nervous, he just wants to fix his own screw up. “I’m sorry, Karen. I don’t want to make any decisions for you. I should have--I should have talked to you about it. I should have started this conversation a long time ago.”

“So, start it.” She’s watching him, waiting. There’s a tense expression on her face--like she’s either trying not to cry, or trying not to smile. Or tell him off. He’s not sure which, yet.

Frank clears his throat. “Okay. Uh. I’m not gonna make excuses, I’m just gonna tell you what I know. I know that I have done some shit, and I’m going to continue doing that shit. I’m not ever gonna be normal. I know that you’re smart as hell, and you check me, and you’re a fucking force of nature. I know that I have been telling myself that you deserve more than some--fuckin’ vigilante who wakes up to nightmares more than he doesn’t. I know you deserve to be safe and happy. You deserve more than I can give you. But uh,” he takes her hand cautiously, waits for her to pull away, relaxes when she doesn’t, “...I wanna try.”

“You gotta mean it, Frank,” she says, voice watery. “You better fucking mean it.”

“I mean it. I swear to Christ, I mean it.”

She pulls her hand away and for a millisecond, he thinks he’s said something wrong. Then she’s unbuckling her seat belt and clamoring over the armrest into his lap. It’s not the most majestic first kiss he’s ever had (of which there are few) but her breath is hot on his lips and her fingernails scrape gently over his scalp as if entreating him closer. Frank makes a low groan that he hasn’t heard from himself in a long time--too long--and then Karen shifts and his breath catches in his throat. The heat of her, all wrapped up in his arms, her hair falling over one shoulder as she peppers his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw with the tiniest of kisses.

He could have ruined this without even knowing. He almost ruined it before it even happened.

“I do want you, you know,” Karen murmurs against the skin of his jaw, fingers grasping his shirt. “All of you.”

“I know.”

“Does that scare you?”

He pushes gently until he can look her in the eyes. “A little,” he admits. “I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“You’re doing okay so far,” she says, smiling. “Now that you’ve pulled your self-deprecating head out of your ass.”

“Took me long enough.” He cradles the back of her head in one hand, drawing her closer until their lips meet again. They’re both uncomfortable at the weird angle but it’s not until the horn beeps once, gaining the attention of a woman walking her dog, that Karen reluctantly returns to her seat.

They work to catch their breaths, watching the water.

“The Liebermans aren’t upset I left so--...abruptly, right?”

“Nah,” Frank chuckles, grasping her hand. He finds an indescribable amount of comfort in brushing his thumb over the ridges over her knuckles. “Actually, I think they like you better for it. Sarah almost chased me out of the house with a goddamn spatula.”

“I knew I liked her. Take me home? I’ll make coffee.”

“It’s a date.”

Frank’s phone lights up that night. If he were to reach an arm over and hold it up to see, David’s text would read, WELL?? Did you get the girl, Lloyd Dobler?

But he doesn’t. He tugs Karen closer and goes back to sleep.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastle fanfic #my writing #answered #cant-think-of-anything-creative

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dadgonedeku · 4 years ago

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𝙷𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚞 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙷𝚌𝚜 🐄

🐄~ SFW

🐄~ Gender Neutral!Reader

🐄~ Happy Reading!

🐄~ Ahhh, my main man 🥺

🐄~ He’s so sweet

🐄~ His spirit is possessed by the ox/cow, so naturally his personality would reflect that of an ox/cow.

🐄~ His nature is usually very calm and soothing, and he has a natural urge to bring comfort and peace.

🐄~ The only catch is that while he may act like everything is fine, it really isn’t. Hatsu carries with him a lot of unresolved trauma and pent up emotions. So when he’s angry...he’s angry.

🐄~ God forbid anything happen to you, because if anything does he will absolutely snap. Like how he did at school that one time- 😳

🐄~ But like it’s okay because it’s kinda hot-

🐄~ He’s very loyal, and always seeks peace, comfort, and happiness. So if you’re happy, he’s happy too.

🐄~ At times, granted it’s very rare, but when it does happen, he’ll need you to help him through his more vulnerable moments, where he feels like his past is swallowing him whole. He comes to you because he knows how calm and loved you make him feel, so please, be there for him when he needs it. He will always do the exact same for you.

🐄~ He gives very odd but very good advice when he’s in the right headspace.

🐄~ He lets you borrow his clothes and he loves it when you wear them.

🐄~ Loves sweet kisses and hugs, he cherishes every time he can have you safe in his embrace.

🐄~ Yes, he still loves hugs even if they don’t last long because of his zodiac form.

🐄~ He’s proud of you through anything you do or choose to do, and he’ll support you through anything. Unless he knows if something’s wrong, then he’ll step in and keep it straight with you.

🐄~ He likes to take you on walks at sunset, and occasionally he’ll suggest trying to find a nice grassy spot to watch it on.

🐄~ He gets you gifts sometimes and surprises you with them, but he acts all nonchalant about it.

🐄~ He likes to take naps with you and escape from reality for a while, just the feeling of holding you close and being able to relax with you is heaven to him.

🐄~ If you go to the same school he always checks up on you to make sure you’re doing okay, and also asks if anyone is bothering you.

🐄~ Yes, he’ll let you play with his hair-

🐄~ He takes every precaution he can to keep you safe and away from Akito, he would never forgive himself if he let you get hurt or suffer because of his lineage.

🐄~ Eventually you get to meet the kids, and all of them adore you, even Hiro. They all look up to Hatsu as a big brother, so naturally you’d be like a big sister to them.

🐄~ It’s common knowledge that Hatsuharu is fiercely protective of those close to him, so he shows absolutely no hesitation when it comes to absolutely wrecking someone for you, even if they’re family. Anyone who messes with you messes with him, and it doesn’t matter who it is, he will not hesitate to give whoever’s messing with you a piece of his mind. Or his fist-

🐄~ He appreciates every moment he can have with you, good and bad, and he’s surprisingly very good at communication.

🐄~ He gives you his jackets, and he’ll even hold bags or carry things for you if you need or want him to. But he understands wanting to be self sufficient as well.

🐄~ Whenever you need his help he’s right there beside you, through anything and everything. In his mind every relationship goes both ways equally, he gives 50%, you give 50%, add it together and the two of you make 100%.

🐄~ Overall, very sweet and respectful. He won’t push boundaries and he would never want to make you feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or unhappy. 10/10 bf, much recommend. 💕

#fruits basket #fruits basket hatsuharu #hatsuharu soma #hatsuharu x reader #hatsuharu x you #hcs #fruits basket fanfiction #fluff #gender netural reader

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ad1thi · 4 years ago

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5, 9, 10 😌✨

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

yes and no. i can’t, at the top of my head think of specific pairings that i shipped before fandom that i don’t anymore; but there’s definitely ships that i was divorced from when i entered fandom that i now really loudly am passionate about just because i know fandom is horrible to them. the most particular example i can come up with is pepperony, because i definitely went through a period right at the start of fandom where i ended up, by accident, following a lot of anti pepperony stevetony blogs and i was still quite new to fandom so i read a lot of meta that in hindsight was clearly from a Pepper comes in the middle of my white mlm ship perspective than it actually was productive and insightful perceptions of characters. So i definitely had a period where i wasn’t very pro Pepperony, ive since moved past that and recognised my own misogyny in that line of thinking.

i was also kind of into ironstrange for a brief period post IW, until i realised that most, if not all ironstrange fics (at the time anyway) were just replacing Steve Rogers with Stephen Strange, and it just felt more Anti Steve than it was pro ironstrange. The same exists to a degree with ironbat, because you’re actually hard-pressed to find ironbat content not set in a post CACW world; but i was lucky enough to come to ironbat much later, so it didn’t affect my enjoyment of the ship as much.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

WANDA FUCKING MAXIMOFF. I appreciate that there’s people who like her, and I guess each to their own, but I despise mcu Wanda. I can’t stand the fact that everyone is so comfortable to gloss over the fact that she willingly!!joined HYDRA!!a nazi organisation!!for the sole purpose!!of KILLING Tony Stark!!and that’s somehow okay!!

I’m just - im not sure right if i just watched a completely different film than everybody else, but Wanda literally joins HYDRA for the purpose of getting back with Tony, FUCKS WITH EVERYBODY’S MINDS and then faces zero repercussions,,,literally confirms on screen!! that she purposely sent Tony into a self destructive state by showing him his worst fears,,,,joins forces with Ultron!! only leaves Ultron when she realises that Ultron doesn’t plan to spare her and her brother in his quest to kill humanity,,,says some bullshit line about Ultron doesn’t know the difference between saving the world and ending it, who do you think he gets that from? KNOWING FULL WELL THAT SHE SENT TONY INTO A SELF DESTRUCTIVE STATE IN THE FIRST PLACE,,,never apologises for everything that she does

and then in CACW she fucking loses control of her powers in Lagos!! killing and injuring people!! and still somehow plays the victim!! PUTS VISION THROUGH THE FLOOR when he tries to protect her (again, bearing in mind that she literally just killed people and isn’t an american citizen, which actually means that Tony agreeing to keep her in the Compound was likely Tony’s way of protecting her from worse scenarios because we all know how nice the US is to immigrants,,,especially quote unquote dangerous immigrants)

and then!! empties an entire parking lot!! onto Tony!! just because she was upset!!!

anyway i fucking hate her

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

i think the fact that Tony’s arc ends with him dying. I hate the direction most arcs went in Endgame, but i particularly hate Tony’s because the explanation was that Tony had five years of a good life so clearly he had his happy ending and it was okay for him to die but somehow the same was not okay for Cl*nt or Scott because they had a family to go back to. like!!so did Tony!! you gave him a daughter and a wife!! he also had a family to go back to!!

also there’s something very fucked up about how Tony, the character who goes through the most visible trauma - i have meta somewhere about how Iron Man is the only superhero to visibly take on damage) - both physically and mentally (bearing in mind that his whole arc in im3 is his fight against pstd); and wins,,,he learns to deal with his trauma and recovers and fights it -- and is then shown to die. it’s a very subliminal message, but the fact that he doesn’t get a happy ending, this character that we see persevere through both internal and external struggles, the fact that his arc ends with him dying; it’s just fucked up.

and then you watch hoco and ffh and you realise oh!! it doesn’t fucking end there!! you’re just going to milk Tony as this cash cow and come up with this whole new list of laundry defects that he has,,,for villains to get mad about,,,because god forbid the villain in a superhero film actually have beef with the superhero himself,,,no it’s much better for him to dislike the superhero’s mentor and for the superhero to just get caught up in the drama,,,,and let’s make the man who’s arc STARTED with him stopping weapons production make a shit ton of weapons and give it to some teenager,,,completely negating all his character development because he’s clearly just right back where he started -- with his tech in the wrong hands,,,

and basically i just have a lot of beef with how Tony’s character is handled by the R*ssos and i think the R*ssos should be blacklisted from making films cuz they clearly have characters they favour and when you make ensemble films like this you have to give due credit and consideration to all characters - not just kill the ones you don’t like.

salty ask list

#salty asks #anti wanda maximoff #anti russos #this got #very long i apologise hdhfkff #as you can see i have many feelings #about the mcu #samrhodey #adi answers asks

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years ago

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Punkinhead (spooky mini series)

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: horror, drug usage

Summary: On a camping trip with their friends, Harry and Y/N awaken an evil unlike any other.

Friends to lovers, spooky series

Part One

1963

Hellen jumped, woken by the sound of her Father's drunken screams. She tip toed to the door of her bedroom.

"Bout as smart as them cows you're supposed to bring in! An' ya couldn't even do that!" Hellen winced, hearing her father's hand come down across her brother's cheek. Hellen watched her brother stumble, only to be yanked back up by her father.

"I'm sorry Pa." He whimpered.

"Know wha? You're gonna keep watch over them cows tonight. Give that scarecrow a break." Hellen heard her brother take in a sharp breath, struggling against their father's hold.

"No Pa! Please-"

"An' maybe Punkinhead'll take ya off my hands! Only need one Scarecrow right?!" Hellen watched her father grab a lamp and some rope, dragging her brother behind him.

Hellen put her boots and coat on quickly. Surely he was kidding about Punkinhead. Punkinhead wasn't a real thing. He didn't exist. Twenty minutes later she heard her Pa come back inside, slumping into his chair. She waited until she heard his soft snores before sneaking out into the night after her brother.

It was windy, the pumpkin patch was eerie at night, like little goblins waiting around, ready to strike at any moment. She shined her flashlight up where the scarecrow should have been. In it's place her brother, shivering in the cold.

"Abel!" Hellen shouted. She held the light between her legs, reaching up to try and untie him.

"He….he's coming." Able wheezed. His eyes were wide, staring at something in the distance. "He's coming for me."

"What?!" Hellen shouted, but she could feel it, the chill on the back of her neck. She looked up, Abel's eyes were red rimmed and filled with fear. He looked down at her.

"Leave." Abel gasped. "Go Hellen!" Hellen kissed her brother's cheek before turning away.

The wind howled and as she ran a piercing scream, blood curdling and filled with agony shook the night. Hellen glanced over her shoulder. What she saw would haunt her for the rest of her days.

Present Day

“I can’t believe you invited her to go with us.” Kennedi rolled her eyes as she hoisted her gym bag over her shoulder. She stood in the lobby with her boyfriend and their friends. Her dig was aimed at him though, Harry, her boyfriend, who had a female roommate she was not fond of.

It wasn’t that she was afraid Harry would sleep with Y/N. No, that would never happen. It was more so the fact that they were so close and she was so weird, yet Harry fawned over everything she did. Like she was the greatest person ever….it was annoying.

“Y/N is my best friend Ken. I can’t exactly leave her behind.”

“Yes you can,” Kennedi hissed. “You’re not joined at the hip.”

“I think Y/N’s cool,” Niall interjected before Harry could say anything. “She looks like she could kick my ass.” Niall had liked Y/N from the moment Harry introduced them. She was more on the punk alternative side with ripped leggings, diy vests and a plethora of band t-shirts. Let’s not forget her Doc Martens that were entirely kick ass by themselves. Kennedi rolled her eyes.

“Whatever Niall, you would.” Kennedi turned her attention back to Harry. “You live with her. You see her everyday. Do you have to invite her everywhere? That’s all I’m asking.” she wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist. “Don’t you want to be alone with me?” Niall rolled his eyes when she bat her lashes at Harry. God she was annoying.

“We will be alone baby,” he kissed the tip of her nose. Niall smirked at the way Kennedi’s face fell, annoyance furrowing her brows. “She’s my best mate. I can’t leave her behind.”

“You can, you just choose not to.” Kennedi pouted. Harry sighed, dropping his arms. “I’m sorry.” she said quickly. “I just...I worry sometimes.” Niall wanted to be sick. She played Harry so easily. He knew the real reason Kennedi hated Y/N was because she knew Harry. Y/N was first, all the time, and that pissed her off. Harry could deny it all he wanted. But everyone knew.

“Look. I gotta go home, but Y/N and I will meet you guys here bright and early in the morning so...be ready to go.” Harry kissed Kennedi once more before leaving the gym.

Harry skipped steps as he made his way up to the flat he shared with Y/N. They had met three years ago when Harry had moved to the states for school. She needed a roommate and he needed a place to stay. Though it had taken a couple months for them to get used to each other, it was true, they were practically joined at the hip at this point.

“Y/N!” he shouted, kicking the door shut with his foot. Their dog, Scrappy, bounded up to him. They weren’t sure what he was, he had been a stray, living outside of their building when they found him. Maybe it was weird for friends that lived together to have a pet. But they did.

“Hey boy,” Harry knelt down, scratching behind Scrappy’s ear. He could smell food cooking in the kitchen and hear what sounded like Iron Maiden, from the kitchen.

Y/N was cooking something Thai, a red bandana around her head, keeping her bangs out of her face. “Hello love,” Harry said, sneaking around her towards the cupboard. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. Anyone watching them would think they were a couple, but they knew better.

“Hey. I’m making chicken teriyaki. Know you’re not much for meat but-”

“No, no,” Harry interrupted. “It’s good.” He filled a cup with tap water, leaning against the counter. “You ready for tomorrow?” he asked, knowing full well that the answer was no.

“You sure I can’t just stay here? I mean, then my mom won’t have to come take care of Scrappy and I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends.” Harry studied her. Y/N was gorgeous, her humor was dark, but she was such a good and caring person. He hated that people judged her for the way she looked, especially his friends.

“Y/N you don’t embarrass me,” he said, grabbing two plates for her and another glass for her to drink out of. “You’re always home. You never go out….I think you could have fun. Kennedi is...tricky,” he said, unable to find the right way to say it, “but Niall is great. You’ll love Elenore and Gigi. Maya and you could get along really well...Louis , Liam and Zayn, they’re fun.” He took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “I want them to get to know you. To like you as much as I do.”

“Harry,” Y/N said, turning to look at him. Harry was extremely close. Their noses almost brushing as she looked up at him. She’d had feelings for him for a long time, but she knew he would never date her. Guys like him didn’t date girls like her. She was lucky just to be his friend. “I don’t want you to think you always have to invite me.”

“I don’t. I’m asking you.” he poked his lip out, giving her puppy dog eyes. “Please.”

“Harry.” Y/N said, trying not to smile. “Don’t.” he wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on her shoulder. “Don’t give me that look.” he fake whimpered, giggling at the end and hiding his face in her shoulder. “Okay. Okay.” she laughed, tugging at his arms. “Get off me.” she smirked. “Like I could say no to you anyway.”

That night Y/N crawled into bed, burrowing into the blankets.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to be friends with his friends. She was a loner, granted she had a couple of friends of her own, she preferred her own company. That was until Harry entered her life. He was sweet and fun to be around, he didn’t care how much she liked horror films or if she preferred the pit at a rock concert to front row tickets to see Ariana Grande (she’d gone, much to Kennedi’s dismay.) Harry just fit. He was her one ‘normal.’ Her one piece of consistency. But she hated feeling like she was holding him back.

“I’m going to have fun tomorrow.” she sighed, looking at the ceiling. “I’m going to have fun on this trip.”

It was a grave. Six feet deep, already laid out in front of her. The cemetery was dark, wind howling around her. The headstone was blank. She stepped forward, fear gripping her belly, she looked down into the grave-

Beep. Beep.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. Her body drenched with sweat. She threw her hand over her face, groaning. Why did she agree to get up at six am. Why did she agree to this.

Harry was already awake when Y/N came out of her room. Dressed in sweats and an oversized Meat Puppets t shirt, her hair tossed into a messy bun. Harry was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, phone in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. He was shirtless, his basketball shorts hanging low on his hips. He smiled up at Y/N, pointing at a plate of eggs and toast on the table.

“Made you breakfast.”

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled, sitting down. Harry watched her as she scratched her head, stretching her arms up before digging in. He smiled to himself. He thought she was always prettiest like this. No makeup, baggy, comfy clothes, hair out of her face. He could watch her all day. It was moments like this, when he was alone with her here, he would pretend they were more. He would pretend she was his wife and this was their home. He would never tell her that, he didn’t think she could ever like him as much as he liked her. That’s why he was with Kennedi. He needed to get over it. Y/N was his friend. Only his friend.

Y/N could feel Harry’s eyes on her. She cleared her throat, looking up at him. He was watching her with such intensity, she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Harry?” he blinked, looking at her. “Might want to get dressed. We gotta leave in like an hour.” she smiled softly, watching his cheeks go red.

“R-right.” he stuttered. Y/N watched as he downed the rest of his coffee.

“You know, you could have gotten into the back seat after we picked everyone up.” Harry said as he pulled the van up to the gym. His friends were waiting outside. Y/N rolled her eyes, tapping away on her phone.

“And let the princess see me sitting next to you? God forbid.” Harry’s jaw twitched but he didn’t say anything. He knew she was right. If Y/N was sat up front by him, Kennedi would blow a gasket. That wasn’t something Harry was looking forward to. He had hoped maybe on this trip they’d get to know each other. Maybe get along. But he was doubting that seriously.

“Harry!” Kennedi squealed, she hopped into the front seat, pressing her lips to Harry’s. Her eyes flickered to the backseat, disappointed to find Y/N wasn’t watching. She would get it through her head this weekend though. Harry was hers. And she wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of that.

Y/N took her head phones out as the back door opened and Harry’s friends clammerd in. The one named Niall sat beside her. “Hi,” she did her best to smile at him.

“Hey,” he gestured to her phone. “What are you listening to?” he asked.

“Oh,” she held out an earbud. “Black Flag.”

“No shit.” Niall sounded impressed. “Lemme listen yeah?”

Harry couldn’t stop glancing into the rearview mirror. Niall and Y/N sat closely together, talking and whispering to each other. He felt the weight of Kennedi’s hand in his but also the raging jealousy. He wanted to be back there with Y/N.

About an hour into their trip Harry pulled up to a rundown gas station. As he pulled in an old man and his son came out of the building.

“Everybody out! Stretch ya legs!” Harry shouted. Niall let Y/N go first, before hopping down out of the van after her. He stumbled slightly, reaching for her hand as he righted himself.

“Careful there,” Y/N smiled. Niall reached out, gently grabbing her waist. Y/N felt herself leaning up, eyes closing softly-

“Y/N!” Y/N’s head turned sharply. Harry was glaring at her and Niall. “Can I talk to you?” Niall smirked, letting her go.

He was gonna get through to both of them by the end of this trip. It amazed Niall how blind the two of them could be. I mean, he didn’t even know Y/N but could tell she had some major feelings for Harry.

“What’s up?” Y/N asked as Harry pumped the gas. Harry looked down at her, trying not to let his irritation at Niall show.

“What’re you and Niall doing?” Y/N raised her eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

“Just….just be careful please. I love Ni but-”

“Harry.” Y/N cut him off. “Harry this is what you wanted. For me to get along with your friends. That’s what I’m doing right?” Harry huffed, looking away. “Harry you’re not my boyfriend….you can’t tell me you want me to be friends with your friends and then two seconds later get mad when I do.” she glanced over his shoulder. “And Kennedi’s watching….Look I don’t want any drama okay.” Y/N turned away quickly. Just as Kennedi was walking up on him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright babe?" She asked. Harry nodded.

They got in the van and continued on their way. Louis and Zayn passed around a joint. Y/N talked with Gigi and Maya. They were sweet and Liam was adorable with Maya. Harry stayed up front with Kennedi. He hated hearing Y/N's laugh and not knowing what she was laughing at. He hated that she was having fun without him.

"Hey! Hey!" Gigi crawled over Y/N's lap, pointing out the window. A sign reading 'Grover's Pumpkin Patch' was passing them by. "Come on Harry! Let's stop!"

"We haven't even gotten to the cabin yet." Kennedi complained. Gigi rolled her eyes.

"So? We can take some with us to carve." Kennedi huffed, crossing her arms as Harry made the turn towards the pumpkin patch. Y/N took Niall's hand as they made their way down the dirt path. An old house sat at the top of the hill, the wood rotted and flung apart. An old woman came out to the porch as Harry parked in front of the house, everyone filing out of the van.

"Welcome to Grover's Pumpkin Patch. How can I help ya'll?" She had thin white hair and coke bottle glasses, crows feet withered around her watery blue eyes. Her gingham dress blew gently in the breeze. Harry stepped up, shaking her hand.

"Hi! 'm Harry. We were wonderin' if we could get some pumpkins?" She smiled, her eyes meeting Y/N's, there was something about the woman that put Y/N off though. She wasn't comfortable.

"10 dollars. You each can pick one." Harry grinned, reaching into his pocket. "Just stay away from the Scarecrow." She pointed over their shoulder. A scarecrow stood in the middle of the field, with a jack o lantern head. Kennedi snorted.

"What's that supposed to be?" Harry pinched her side and the woman narrowed her eyes.

"That is the alter to Punkinhead."

"Punkinhead?" Y/N repeated. "Who's that?"

"He's a demon. He fetches souls for the Underworld. If you done someone wrong they can summon him, and he won't rest until you're dead." Y/N's blood ran cold, the dream the night before flashing once more in her mind.

"Sounds scary." Kennedi said sarcastically, "lets go Harry. Get the stupid pumpkin so we can get to the cabin." She tugged on his arm as the group followed them. Y/N lingered by the old woman.

"It's true you know….you seem like you have sense." Y/N nodded.

"I should….I should go."

"Godspeed."

"Kennedi." Y/N said, her voice shaking with unease. "I don't think you should do that." She looked to Harry, hoping he would say something to his girlfriend, but he only glanced at Y/N and pursed his lips.

Kennedi had made her way straight to the Scarecrow. The old woman had annoyed her and she was gonna show her. She wasn't afraid of anything, especially not some stupid story.

"Kennedi." Her eyes flickered towards Y/N, she looked genuinely terrified. "Don't."

"Ooh." Kennedi said, her tone mocking as she grabbed the scarecrow's head. "Is Punkinhead gonna get me?" She yanked the head off the scarecrow, throwing it to the ground. Y/N shivered at the noise it made on impact, squishy as it split apart. Kennedi hopped down from the post, wiping her hands.

"Kennedi." Niall scolded. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. I don't believe in stupid horror stories. Punkinhead is about as real as the Boogeyman." She nudged Niall hard in the shoulder as she yanked Harry back towards the car.

Y/N stood rooted to the spot, staring at the smashed pumpkin. A chilly breeze swept over her and her stomach was churning.

"She shouldn't have done that." She finally said, turning to look at Niall. "I have a really bad feeling." Niall shook his head, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, turning them back to the car.

"I don't like her either Y/N but you shouldn't worry. Punkinhead is just a story....an urban legend." Y/N looked back at the house as they got into the car. The old woman stood on her porch, still watching them. As they made eye contact the feelings grew. Y/N didn't know what it was, but something bad was on the horizon.

Hellen went back into her house. She went into her bedroom, kneeling down she ripped up the floorboard and pulled out an old book. She brought it to the kitchen, slamming it on the table.

"Stupid kids. They'll learn." She growled, flipping through the pages. "Here it is." She said, stopping suddenly.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, please keep me blinded from the sight. When Punkinhead appears tonight. Appease the soul, save the right, bad blood will feed this patch tonight."

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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tcstu · 3 years ago

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June’s Honorable Mentions

The writer’s really brought it this month! Below are all of the pieces that were contenders for winning this month’s Ekphrastic Fiction Contest. I hope you enjoy reading the pieces below. If you like someone’s story, make sure to reach out and let them know. I’m sure they would love to hear from you!

As a reminder, this month’s artistic piece is titled, “Cloud Skipper,” and it was created by @crimson-chains. This artist has created quite a bit of original art and fan art, so if you like the piece below, make sure to visit this artist’s Tumblr page or you can browse their Etsy store .

Note: The Honorable Mentions below area listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.

Untitled

By: @emilyelizabethfowl

“If it looks stupid, but works, it ain’t stupid.”

That was basically Kyra’s entire worldview.

Other might insist that conjuring giant floating fish was a waste and idiotic exercise in ludicrousness. Kyra was of an opinion it was far more efficient - it took less resources, for one. The shapes were way simpler than if you tried to conjure a mammal or, Stars forbid, a bird. Not to mention the magic required to breathe life into a fish - even a floating, non-water-bound fish - was kiloRituals lower than the minimum requirement for any other animal type!

Kyra knew very well she was in the right there, but if nobody wanted to admit it, that was fine, too.

She’d just have to let her superior travel times and expenses (or the lack of thereof) speak for themselves.

“She Should Be Wearing A Harness, Though”

By: @evanthenerd83

They were walking home from school when Jared suddenly tapped his shoulder.

“What,” Sam asked.

Jared pointed into the sky, to where the clouds were clustered together and all as one.

“Looks like Mel’s followin’ her dreams again.”

And lo and behold, there she was. The eldest Gosling child, her dark brown hair flapping about. The wind kicked up the skirt of her school-uniform.

She had her arms spread out, legs too.

She stood on the back of a Diviworm, barely taller than the ribbon-sails protruding from its curved back.

Her eyes could have been closed.

It slithered through a rather large cloud, following an air current. All thirty-five of its fins glistened. The enamel-gems had just caught sunlight.

Sam Gosling simply sighed. “Hope she’s got one of Dad’s rigs on, then.”

Untitled

By: @a-river-of-roses

It was that time of the year.

You know that time when everything would go weird. When fish could fly, and rabbits could talk, and you could do whatever you ever wanted.

Morgan wanted to do a lot of things, be a lot of things, most of them weird. In the spirit of the times, of course. Last year xe was half cow, half-human! The year before that, xe answered calls as a demon. This year Morgan’s eyes were set to the skies. Xe was going to be among clouds!

When xe saw the first fish rise above the surface of the ocean towards the sky, xe immediately closed xyr eyes and wanted to rise with them. As xyr feet left the ground, xyr body became as light as a feather. Morgan tumbled round and round on xyr way and once or twice almost crashed right to the Earth. Almost. After this tumultuous journey, xyr head finally broke through the ceiling of clouds.

For miles, there was giant white cotton candy accompanied by fish of all sizes and colors. Morgan looked around xem to the stunning scenery. Xe laughed as the rays of sunshine danced on the scales of the fish.

When Morgan jumped particularly high, right before falling back to the clouds, xe looked down at the world below. Everything was so small xe could hardly see the giant statue of an octopus in the middle of the town. The world looked miniature, like toys children might play with. Xe jumped between the clouds to xyr heart’s content for hours and hours. And when xe was tired, sat down on one of the fish and rode with it for a while.

Now, how to get down from here?

A Day At The Museum

By: @daalseth

Mrs. Snydley, the prim and stuffy art teacher led the class of fourth graders through the musium. They looked at all sorts of paintings, from Rembrandt to Worhall, from Cezanne to Picasso. At each the teacher asked questions about the form, the structure, the colour. Above all she wanted to know how it made them feel. What stories were the pictures telling them. The excited class responded to each painting eagerly with insights and stories. Mrs. Snydley loved the once a year trip to the Art Gallery.

Toward the end of the trip the Mrs. Snydly took them into another wing.

“Class,” she began, “the paintings here are what are called Surrealist style. Let’s begin with this, it’s called The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali.” The class went wild for the melting clocks, the strange landscapes, the dead bird. They loved it. It was the same with I Saw Three Cities by Kay Sage. It got their creative juices going. Even The Treachery of Images by Rene Magritte wound them up, once they understood what the words said.

Mrs. Snydley lead them down a short distance and showed them another work. “This is going very well,” she thought to herself.

Stopping at one of her favourites she began, “A good example is this one titled Cloud Skipper, by an artist named Chrimson Chains. Now look at this painting and tell me what you feel. What story does this painting say to you.”

The class looked at the painting, and a hush fell upon them. There were enormous multicoloured fish leaping out of a boiling sea. A small girl was suspended in the sky. Over it all was a rainbow. The class stared for a long time.

“Well class…impressions.”

The children said nothing.

“Don’t any of you see a story in this work?”

Silence.

The teacher was taken aback. Usually this painting elicited a lot of response, maybe if she got the ball rolling. She looked at one child in the front row.

“Dougie, you’re good at making up stories. What do you get from this painting?”

The child stared at the canvas for a long time.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Snydley,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see a story. I like the picture, but just don’t know what to do with it.”

Mrs Snydley was crestfallen. This picture usually did so well with the children. Undeterred she pressed on.

“Well then children, let’s try something else. If you follow me over here, we have a work called the Son of Man by Rene Magritte.”

The children followed her across the gallery. Once there they began to giggle and talk excitedly as they speculated on the man with an apple in front of his face. This was something they could understand.

Untitled

By: @nadunacreates

Rowan did not know what it was about the color blue that fascinated him so.

The sky and the sea, the sparkle of a gem, the glint of her eyes.

He knew that beings like him weren’t made for the softer pleasures in life.

He knew that he wasn’t supposed to lie in a field of flowers, look up at the sky and get lost in the shape of rolling clouds and distant dreams. He wasn’t supposed to close his eyes and take a breath and just be — he wasn’t supposed to enjoy this existence.

And still.

It’s just: he doesn’t understand, even after twenty years. He can’t even remember it, after all, the previous life that made him deserve this punishment, the one that made him deserve to die and get reborn with white hair and black antlers on his head and black fingers on his hands. The one that made him deserve to be so marked as an outcast, a servant, as something lesser, something to be feared or hated.

He thinks he must have done something truly horrible, something so very unforgivable, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t remember, and no one will tell him anything.

He’s sure there must be people who know — but they’re not supposed to tell him, so they don’t.

Maybe this is it.

The sneaking off, the hiding away. The doing things he isn’t supposed to, the color blue.

Maybe this is it, he thinks, even as he climbs the last few feet, digs his (black) fingers into the soft green earth and pulls himself up. Maybe it’s because he’s enjoying the life he’s been given, because he dares to dance with the gods, and they laugh with him.

If it is, he thinks, as he crouches at the edge of the cliff and watches the blue blue waves crash against the bottom of it, then he knows he doesn’t regret it.

He doesn’t have to wait long, up here, until the shimmer of a rainbow appears in the spraying mist, until he can just about make out the glimmer of scales, red and blue and black and green, down below.

And then the gods jump and he lets himself fall.

He doesn’t know what it is about the color blue, but it’s always felt like coming home.

Untitled

By: @mareebrittenford

Everyone who visited New Reef City wanted to dive with the giant koi. The giant fish with their sparkling scales photographed so well, and were so easy to feature in the tourist brochures.

But it wasn’t as simple as doing a basic dive class and booking a tour.

The fish wouldn’t come out of their cloud shadows unless they wanted to. Everyone seemed to forget they were wild animals, not a trained performance. Although of course there have been many failed attempts to turn them into exactly that. But the fish defy enclosing. And any attempt to cage them leads to the whole population going into hiding.

For the good of the economy laws have been passed that forbid the capture and containment of any of New Reefs most popular citizens.

No, if you want to dive with the giant koi, and actually interact with them you have to dive with one of the sky masters.

And Elspeth is the best of the sky masters. People say she’s odd, she’d rather spend her time in the sky than with humans. The tourists can be annoying, but she’d lead a thousand tours if it meant that her best friends get to live free. (and sabotage a thousand more enclosures.)

#June's Honorable Mentions #writing contest #writing community #writeblr #ekphrastic fiction contest #ekphrastic fiction #June writing

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somethingusefulfromflorida · 4 years ago

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TLDR: the future of the country lies with the For The People Act, and Joe Manchin holds all the cards.

Whether or not Donald Trump runs for re-election in 2024 largely depends on whether the For The People Act passes in the Senate.

If it does, and elections are reformed with federal guidelines, AND if it survives the inevitable Supreme Court challenges (which is dubious given the 6-3 conservative majority), then no, Trump won't run again because he wouldn't want to risk losing a second time. He's humiliated, he has to pretend it was stolen from him so he doesn't have to acknowledge the fact that he lost like a little bitch. If the election reforms level the playing field, he wouldn't stand a chance of winning in 2024; he only won in 2016 because of voter apathy and suppression in Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania. Turnout was WAY higher in 2020, and he got blown out of the water.

If the act fails in the Senate or is struck down by SCOTUS, then Trump will absolutely run again because Republican lawmakers will rig the elections in his favor in all the swing states he lost. If the reforms don't pass, all the states Biden flipped will flip right back because of even worse suppression and partisan interference. Republicans tried to overturn the results after he lost in 2020, but the courts prevented them from doing so; now they've had a taste for things, they know what they can and can't do, so they'll spend the next four years rewriting the rules in their favor so the courts will side with them in 2024. 2020 wasn't rigged, it was arguably the most transparent election in American history, and that has Republicans scared shitless; they know they can't win on policy, they're trying to win by technicality. They haven't legitimately won since Bush Sr in 1988; Democrats have won 7 of the last 8 elections, the only exception being 2004 at which point we were still reeling from 9/11 and were caught up in two new wars in the Middle East. Bush Jr had the incumbency advantage, and the wars made him more popular than he turned out to actually be (he left office with record low approval ratings in the 20s; in 2008 both parties ran candidates on the platform of "I am not George W. Bush"). Republicans know they can win without a majority, so that's what they plan on doing from now on. They don't need to care about popular opinion.

For The People is extremely popular, with majority support from Democratic, independent, and yes, even Republican voters, but their lawmakers are fighting tooth and nail to stop it. Not a single Republican will vote for it in the Senate, and Manchin and Sinema refuse to get rid of the filibuster, so it's as good as dead unless they change their minds or reform the legislative process. Back in the day, a filibuster was active, it required a senator to hold the floor and refuse to yield for as long as possible (the record is over 24 hours). Any member could filibuster a bill by taking the floor and delaying until they were exhausted, or until 60 senators voted to stop them. Starting in the 1970s, the filibuster became passive because the Senate decided that actually holding the floor was irrelevant so long as the other side couldn't get the 60 votes needed to stop it. Legislation has ground to a halt ever since, exacerbated by the election of Mitch McConnell as majority leader in 2015. He proudly became known as the Bill Killer, effectively vetoing every single one by simply refusing to let any of them go the floor at all; instead of opening up the chamber and letting members filibuster, he would simply let the bills die on his desk, even if they had enough support to pass. If he didn't personally want it to pass, then it didn't pass. End of story. There's a joke that if Congress were on fire, it couldn't even pass the Pour Water On Congress Act, and this is largely McConnell's fault.

If Manchin and Sinema agreed to change the rules to bring back the active filibuster it would allow more bills to move forward, but each one would almost certainly take DAYS or WEEKS to get passed. If we thought Republicans were obstructionist before, just imagine what they'd do if Democrats could simply wait them out. What will happen is that a handful of them will decide to filibuster, one after another, each one holding the floor for at least day, preventing anything from getting done. Because the other side doesn't have the 60 votes to stop them, they would keep talking until they got tired, then tag out for someone else. The thing is, once you stop talking, you can't start talking again, so they wouldn't be able to filibuster indefinitely, they couldn't recharge and give it another go, they'd have one shot each. Imagine dozens of Republicans holding the floor hostage for weeks, maybe months if they were dedicated enough; if every senator held the floor for a full day, that's 50 days, over a month and a half. Now, a lot of senators are old men who probably couldn't last that long, but others like Josh Hawley are quite young and would try for a publicity stunt by holding out for the longest filibuster ever (I could imagine him making it 2 or 3 days if he was dedicated enough, which would make him a Republican superstar and guarantee him the presidency).

Of course, such a prolonged filibuster would be torn to shreds by the media; just like a government shutdown, eventually popular opinion would turn against the obstructionists, and they'd eventually have to concede. The majority of Americans blamed the Republicans for the shutdowns under Obama AND Trump, so any prolonged filibuster would largely be seen as a waste of time (though it would score them big political points from their bases, it would unite the opposition against them, hurting their chances at re-election). It's all a game, and the outcome depends on the will of the players.

I could see some of the hardliners like Ted Cruz, Tom Cotton, Rick Scott, Josh Hawley, or Lindsey Graham filibustering until the cows come home and hoping to swing public opinion in their favor, but I think eventually even the other Republicans would grow tired of having to sit through days or weeks of meaningless noise and would vote to stop them and move the bill forward.

If by some miracle the Democrats manage to increase their majority in 2022, then Joe Manchin will almost certainly leave the party and start caucusing with the Republicans. He's in West Virginia, one of the most conservative states in the country; their own governor Jim Justice was elected as a Democrat in 2016 and became a Republican immediately after being sworn in. There's even precedent for Manchin to switch parties before the midterms; in 2001 the Senate was tied 50-50 for the first time, with Republicans having the majority because Dick Cheney was VP to break ties, but Vermont Republican Jim Jeffords became an independent and began caucusing with the Democrats instead, giving them the 51-49 majority until 2003 (fun fact: Jeffords was succeeded by none other than Bernie Sanders). I could see Manchin becoming an independent and caucusing with the Republicans to try and swing public opinion towards the conservatives. A slim majority of independents are left-leaning, with both independent senators caucusing with the Democrats (Bernie Sanders of Vermont and Angus King of Maine). If Manchin became an independent and caucused with the Republicans, it would give the right-leaning independents someone to latch onto, allowing Republicans to make gains with centrists and moderates. Manchin has a snowball's chance in hell of winning re-election in 2024 as a Democrat; I don't think he's gonna go down like Doug Jones of Alabama and just let himself be voted out, he'll either decline to run at all or run as a conservative independent with Republican support (especially if Democrats keep the majority in 2022, then he'll see no point in staying on their side; they won't need him anymore)

2022 will be close, especially if For The People fails in the Senate. If it goes through, Democrats might be able to hold onto Georgia and Arizona, and could very possibly pick up Wisconsin and Pennsylvania. If it doesn't go through, then Georgia is gone, Arizona will be super close, and they'd stand to lose New Hampshire (it's been leaning further right in recent years; Republicans just flipped both houses of the state legislature).

Biden is already more popular than Trump, and Republican opposition isn't going to be nearly as united as it was against Obama for completely unknowable reasons *cough*cough*White*cough* That's not to say Republicans will cooperate with him, just that they won't be able to portray him as the super-liberal boogeyman they want him to be. He is a moderate centrist, he has been his entire career, Republicans offer him a modicum of respect because they've known him for decades, so I figure he'll stand a good chance at winning re-election in 2024, especially if the bill passes. If not, then he'll probably win the popular vote and lose the electoral college because of Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania.

I don't see any one particular future as being the most plausible, I see a web of five or six possible futures with varying degrees of plausibility. If Democrats lose the senate in 2022, Biden won't get a single Supreme Court justice, paving way for a 7-2, 8-1, or God forbid a 9-0 conservative unanimity. SCOTUS will be the deciding factor going forward; Breyer needs to retire RIGHT FUCKING NOW so Biden can replace him with someone young, though Manchin will likely hold any appointments hostage, playing kingmaker, insisting that Biden only put forward nominees with bipartisan support. Remember, he voted for 2 of Trump's 3 justices, and only voted against the 3rd because it was too close to the election and he thought the Republicans were being hypocritical (they refused to let Obama seat anyone in 2016 citing the election, but railroaded through Asshole Conservative Barbie in 2020 without hesitation). It's not as though Biden's nominees would have been super-liberal either way, but Manchin will ensure they're as moderate as possible, turning a safe 6-3 into 6-2-1 or even 7-2. He also opposes expanding the Supreme Court, which Republicans will not hesitate to do if the filibuster is reformed. They would gladly wait out every single Democrat for months if need be just to turn 6-3 into 7-3, 8-3, 13-3, 435-3, whatever they want! Sky's the limit. Republicans have no morals, they only care about holding onto power by any means necessary.

If we don't change course as a country right now, things will only get worse going forward. We have never been this politically divided before; even during the Civil War both parties had conservative and liberal wings (like the copperheads and war democrats). Republicans never controlled the House under Ronald Reagan, but enough conservative Democrats sided with him to help him push his agenda anyway. Things are so polarized right now I can't imagine either side working together ever again. Nothing short of a constitutional convention or another civil war will make the parties come together, and even then the Democrats would end up compromising and appeasing much more then the Republicans. It's all going to boil over in the near future; it nearly boiled over in 2020, and if the state Republicans start rigging elections then it'll likely boil over in 2024 or 2025.

America as it exists today will not make it to 2030.

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dreams-of-valeria · 5 years ago

Note

Could it be F1 and A1 but like maybe the reader and hopper have an age gap so the reader parents are almost (but they are not... or they are ? Idk that’s up to you lol) the same age as hopper therefore there’s this kind of tension??? And hopper being kind of clumsy at the cake ? Sorry if I am asking too much, tbh your prompts got me exited!

@may85 asked:

Sooooooo can I please request A1 and F10 together? F10 being that the readers parents are complete shit and giving reader a hard time about Hop being late. Pllleassee!? 🥰🥰

In the midst of winter

F1: Baking a cake together

F10: Requester's choice

A1: Late for Christmas dinner with Reader's parents

Pairing: Jim Hopper × Younger female reader

A/N: Merry Christmas and thank you so much for your kind words! I’ve clubbed both of your requests together because as you can see, they are essentially the same but I’ve made sure to give them some individuality and I really hope you like it!

Warnings: Ok so this turned out to be a little darker than I expected and includes mentions of abuse and crying but it’s nothing our favourite Chief can’t handle. Age gap.

Word count: 3,067

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The old clock on the wall taunted you with every plock, demanding your attention between every bite of the bread you were working down just to keep your mouth busy.

The alternative would be to make conversation with the two severely conservative, stuck up and judgy people you knew as your parents. But unlike that moment, your childhood didn’t consist of you swimming in bread, although it had always been your favorite.

Your eyes drifted anywhere but over them sitting across from you at the table, and rather flew over the spread you had spent all day making. Gingerbread, ham, mashed potatoes, roasted green beans and carrots, sugar cookies, cake batter on the counter and a stuffed chicken because the store had run out of turkeys the night of Christmas Eve. The festive season was surely joyous and mesmerizing, but also meant you had to work tirelessly to a goal you had set for yourself, and could barely accomplish when your parents had arrived an hour early; just so they’d have extra time to pick at how untidy your apartment was, how old your simple black dress looked, and how you were wasting your life working as a writer at local newspaper. Which, they had added rather graphically the people of Hawkins only used to wipe their unmentionables. And that was even before they got to the pièce de resistance.

They had always been elitist and looked down upon the humble families just trying to survive and make it in a capitalist country, especially the folks of a small town, which was part of the reason you had moved to Hawkins, Indiana. The lion’s share was because you just had to get away.

The pleasant dream of having a small, homely Christmas dinner with Hopper had been shattered by that one phone call last night, of how your parents had caught wind that you’d found someone for yourself from your sister.

Becky hadn’t told them on purpose, of course. Unlike your parents, she didn’t see anything wrong with you dating a 40-year-old man especially when you were finally, truly happy. In fact, her only folly had been to leave the postcard you had sent her out on the counter, and naturally, your nosy parents had found out. Strangely, it had been Hopper’s idea to dress both of you up in all red for the photograph and send Christmas postcards out to everyone you knew. He wasn’t very generically forthcoming but did have certain ways to show affection.

Including offering to cook dinner with you. You smiled when you remembered, how only last night he had taken you in his arms after the phone call and calmed you down until your panic attack had passed. ‘We can figure it out’, he’d said, brushing your hair lovingly. You missed feeling that sense of warmth and safety in his arms.

You didn’t feel even an iota of that warmth and safety in your own apartment and surrounded by the people you’d known ever since you were born. But knowing and loving were two completely different things, you’d realised, a little too late in your life. The moment you did, you were on a bus heading south.

But now there was nowhere to run. They were there to meet your boyfriend, and like he had said, you just had to get through it. Pull off the bandaid. You wished Hopper wasn’t late, that he was there to defend you from the comments or offer comfort with his hand on the small of your back, but he was late, fighting crime. Typical.

Unlike in your parents’ case, you found that to be endearing. Even if he was forced to let you cook dinner alone.

“It’s been a while,” commented your mother, pulling her blazer’s sleeve back down over her diamond wristwatch. She was studded all over with stones, and they made your eyes hurt from the glare. You swallowed the bread and the lump down your throat and tried to smile.

“Like I said, he’s the Chief of police and must be busy with work.”

“On Christmas Eve? Did someone lose a cow or something?” Your father laughed, a balding bespectacled man who outshone his better half only in contempt.

“We’re not all mindless, farming hillbillies, dad.” You sighed, taking a sip from the wine, but reminding yourself not to drink too much. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol had worked before, but right then, it would only work in your parents’ favor. Just another reason to find a flaw in you.

“Of course not, dear. You’re not one of them.” Rebutted your dad, keeping it civil but his eyes spoke otherwise. Appearances meant everything to them, but you could never forget that look in their eyes that spoke more than those golden words ever did.

“Them are people too you know? Like Jim, my boyfriend.” You smiled, rubbing it in. It was a rarity for you to have the upper hand when it came to irking your parents, and you were not going to let this go. Your father sighed, and you could see that he was taking deep breaths to keep the civility going. Deep down, you wished he would break. You could feel a storm brewing, but it was no reason to let Jim bear witness to it. Provided that he made it in time.

“Of course.” He gritted his teeth but soon eased up. “All we’re saying is, it’s rude to be late to dinner. Especially when you spent all day cooking.”

You opened your mouth in reflex to counter but then listened to his words. Really listened. There were no double entendres or veiled insults. That made you even more suspicious.

”We just want what’s best for you, y/n.” He smiled and your mother mirrored him, and you looked between them like a deer in headlights. What sort of game were they playing? There had to be a game.

“And it’s never too late to make the right decision–” Your mother started off, and you interrupted her with an exasperated sigh.

“I knew it,” you chuckled grimly. “You’re just here to try to talk me out of my relationship.”

“What relationship?” Your father spat suddenly, and the timber of his voice made you shudder. There it was. “You are a child, and that jerk is just forcing you to–”

The door clicked open behind you and heavy footsteps gushed in, along with a gust of frozen air. All eyes went to the hallway and landed on the man of the hour, all bundled up in a parka and boots and huffing heavy breaths, probably from running up the three flights of stairs.

He scanned the room and pursed his lips. “H-hey.”

He was terrible at meeting new people. But that was the least of your concerns. You went up to him with an automatic smile on your face despite the circumstances and helped get his parka off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, a car had tipped over on Maple street and it took forever for the fire engine to get there and I had to wait, baby, there were kids inside–”

“It’s ok.” You assured him with a smile, holding his face in your hands briefly, knowing you had an audience. An especially judgy one.

On that note, he approached the table with a smile and drew his arm across to the seated guests.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, I’m Jim–”

“Ms. Brown.” You mother corrected, eyeing him sharply. You went up behind him and rest your hand on his back, as a form of apology. You knew already you’d be doing a lot of that later.

“My apologies, Ms. Brown. And also for being late. It’s great to meet you.” You could hear the smile in his voice despite the curt way in which they shook his hand.

“Likewise, Jim.” Your father’s jaw clenched. “Now, shall we eat before you get called into duty again?”

Hopper forced a chuckle and you could hear it. He took his seat by you, not excusing himself to change out of his uniform or splash some water on his face like he usually did before dinner. He knew that no matter how much you mouthed off about them, there was still something there, and he respected that enough not to drag it out longer than it had to be and to take whatever they threw at him. It warmed your heart that he would do that for you, but at the same time, you wished he wouldn’t.

“It smells amazing, y/n.” Jim smiled on your right, squeezing your knee gently. You looked into his tired eyes and smiled back. He meant the world to you. Would they ever see that?

“Do you cook, Jim?” Asked your father as he served himself some vegetables, beating you to it. You sighed and served the potatoes to your mother, yourself and Jim.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Brown–thank you, sweetheart–unless you count microwave dinners.” He laughed in that deep, rumbling voice as he scooped some potatoes onto his spoon.

“I don’t.” Snapped your father, watching him intently as he chewed. “So this is what your … relationship is like? My daughter cooks for you and you don’t even help out–”

“I like cooking for him.” You interrupted, making louder noises with the cutlery than needed. You used to get reprimanded for that too.

Jim gently rubbed your thigh. “I meant to get here earlier, but my job–”

“So if God forbid something happened to y/n late at night, you’d be on Maple street, correct?”

“I bet you’d love if something happened to me, wouldn’t you, mom?” You hissed, stuffing your mouth with the potatoes. They were overcooked. Damn it.

“Please don’t be a martyr, y/n.” She scoffed.

“How could I be when you steal the show, mom?” You snapped and watched her jaw drop. That had never happened before.

“Y/n! That is not how you speak to your mother. Apologize.” You could see the perspiration on your father’s forehead already, and the next level would be his vein throbbing. Some part of you wanted to push him further.

“No, I’m good. Honey, could you pass the ham?” You asked Hopper, and it took him a second to blink and realize you were talking to him. He did as asked with a slight frown as he watched you closely.

You could feel your father’s eyes burn holes through you a while longer before he wordlessly returned to his dinner. You’d nailed the ham. That Jacques Pepin really knew what he was doing.

“If we knew this was how it was going to be, we’d never had flown up.” Your father said passive-aggressively, attacking the poor ham with his knife. “Thought we could just visit our daughter for Christmas …”

“Don’t pretend like that’s all you’re here for, dad.” You rubbed your fingers over your eyes, feeling moisture come back.

“Well, of course, it’s not! We paired you up with the most perfect man!” He exploded, and you were surprised he could hold it in for as long as he did. Of course, he would bring up the lowest point in your life.

“Oh, Gerald?” You scoffed, watching his vein pop. Hopper shifted uncomfortably, arms ready to interrupt if it came to that. He knew everything about your past.

“Yes, Gerald! He went to Yale! He’s going to be a doctor, y/n.” Your father cried, eyebrows furrowed in a rage. Like you had stabbed him in the back. Your mind imploded with the overwhelming memories and seemed to grip at your chest painfully. You could feel another attack coming.

“He … hurt me.” Your voice cracked, and Jim’s arm came around your shoulders.

“So you say!” Your mother dropped her cutlery, leaning forward in a rage. “He is a good boy but of course you would find faults with him, y/n–”

“He hurt me …” you gasped for breath as your voice quivered, feeling the tears track down your face. “ … every. Day.” Jim’s other arm had come around your front and held you tight, but somehow it made you feel better. The weight on your chest was getting lighter with his touches, as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“Oh, I remember the lies, y/n. And that you ran away. And all for what? Him?” Your father spat, pointing at Hopper. His arms around you froze, and you followed.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve marred the Brown family name? Dating a damn divorcee who’s twice your age in the middle of Godforsaken nowhere?” He rasped, as his entire face turned red.

“What do you want me to do, dad?” You pleaded, throwing him another lifeline. You were stupid to hope, but that was who you were. “You want me to leave the man who loves me for who I am and finally makes me happy and go back to the one you two approve of? Even if he beats me up?”

You gazed at your parents through tears with a sincere question, still waiting like a fool for them to prove you right.

“Gerald would never do that.” Your father sighed, cleaning his glasses to the end of the table cloth, before looking up at you. There was nothing behind those eyes. “But, yes.”

And there it was.

You knew the moment you’d received that phone call that was the reason they were flying down. Not to check on their younger daughter who couldn’t do anything right with her life, or wouldn’t stay with the abuser her own parents had chosen for her right out of college to marry. But still, you dreamed that they were coming to see how you were doing, to meet Jim and maybe playfully threaten him to take care of you or to tell you that no matter what choices you made or who you were, that they were with you. That they loved and supported you.

You scoffed, realizing that that moment was the final nail in the coffin. You had long abandoned your dream of seeking your parents’ approval, but this was the end. You’d found a new dream already, and Jim would not make you chase him or point out your flaws. And you were completely and gratefully in love with him. And that was enough.

You gazed up at his face, at his still tired eyes and haphazard hair, but also at the overwhelming love in his eyes as he asked you repeatedly if you were alright. He was more than enough.

You smiled at him before turning back to them.

“Well, if I’m such a dishonor to the family name, maybe I shouldn’t have it anymore.” You said, straightening up in your seat as Hopper released you, but still kept his hand on your chair.

They looked up at you slowly, until they said almost at the same time, “What?”

“You heard me. And I think you should get going before the snow comes in.” You pulled your chair back and stood to your feet, watching them expectantly.

They seemed confused, and stared up at you with slack jaws until he said, “You’re kicking us out?”

“Perceptive aren’t you, father?” You mocked, and that seemed to do it. They hastily got to their feet and shuffled around to the hallway, grumbling as they put their coats on.

“You remember this moment when you turned your own family away, y/n. When you come begging back to us.”

“Jim treats me more like family than you two ever did. And if I do come back, it’ll be as Y/N Hopper.” You said, before closing the door after them. Their startled faces were etched into your mind as you walked back into the kitchen, wiping the remnant tears from your face.

“Honey?” Jim called hesitantly from behind you but paused in the kitchen when he saw you at the counter, throwing your apron on.

“You promised you’d help, Chief. Get your apron,” You smiled at him warmly through the tears as you uncovered the half mixed cake batter in the bowl. Hopper cautiously threw the apron on as he watched you, washing your hands before dousing them into the yellow batter.

“I’m sure we have a whisk, sweetheart.” He said, tucking some loose hair behind your ears.

“No, it’s better this way,” you smiled like you didn’t just cut off ties with your parents.

“You wanna talk about it?” Hopper asked in as gentle a voice as he could, eyeing the raisins in a bowl. He didn’t like raisins in his cake.

“I’m good. Could you pass the vanilla, please?” You asked, pointing your eyes to the small vial by the oven. He did as you asked, and you could still feel his eyes on him.

“The raisins, too.” You asked, but Jim didn’t spring into action this time. You entered a staredown, one where you looked at him expectantly, and he pleaded with his eyes. You gave in with a chuckle. He could be so adorable sometimes.

“Alright, but just this once.” You conceded, and he hovered behind you, laying a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your hair this time. You paused the mixing and sighed, smiling as his arms wrapped around you again. That one ounce of doubt disappeared when you were in his arms again, and bliss replaced it.

“I love you too,” you declared, turning your face to kiss him. Jim was chaste this time and let you off with a peck, lending that moment more gooey-ness than the batter. And it only increased when he slid his fingers down your arms and into the bowl, kneading along with you.

“What are you doing?” You chuckled, leaning back into him. He was your pillar in more ways than one. You were grateful for him every day, starting with the day you’d met him at the newspaper office when he’d wanted some ‘intel’. You’d found out days later that it was all made up and the only reason he was there, was for you.

“Helping.” He hummed, kissing your cheek as his fingers intertwined with yours and straightened out the batter, and Jim Hopper was kind enough to lend the same favor to you.

And that was more than enough.

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper #chief hopper x reader #stranger things #fanfiction #hopper x reader #hopper x you #chief hopper #hopper family #hopper imagine #hopper × oc #anon asks #christmas #hopper angst #hopper fluff #david harbour #christmas writing prompts

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magnoliaestonefyre · 4 years ago

Text

Hate at First Sight

“Baby, I dunno as it’s the best idea to bring Buttons.” Ember gazed at her oldest daughter, the large yellow snake already draped around her shoulders in a manner that was quite familiar to everyone in their family, but probably wouldn’t be to some of the others attending the party they were going to. If it had simply just been direct relations, the story would be a great deal different, but the fact of the matter was, Buttons wasn’t exactly your every day pet. Ever since Maggie had gotten her at the age of eight though, she and that snake had been glued together, never seeming to part for even a moment, even when the redhead was in the bathroom. It was as if they were two halves of the same whole and it had been difficult even sending the child to school for the first time without Buttons. That had lasted three days. Three days of tearful phone calls later and Anne had apparated before marching right up to the school with Buttons in order to speak face-to-face with the Headmistress. Ember still didn’t know what her wife had said in order to get an exception made on the exotic pet, but when it came to their children, Anne had no patience for tomfoolery, especially when it came to their animals. Having grown up on a farm, Anne was much more in tune with the delicate connections between human and creature than Ember was, who had been willing to maybe see if Maggie could make it perhaps just a little longer without her snake. She hated hearing the pain in her darling girl’s voice, but had accepted that it was something she just needed a little more time on to get used to, as all children do when leaving home for the first time. David had cried during his first week away at school, as had Danny, though he’d never admit it, and god forbid poor Ophelia. She had been so distraught on the train platform that the boys had to literally peel her off her father to get her boarded, but even she had grown used to school and been just fine in the end. Ember was fairly certain she had cried more than either of the boys, missing her sons in the house and having been overly elated to have them home when winter break had finally arrived after what felt like an incredibly long few months. It had been just as hard with Maggie.

“But Mam, Mum said I could.” Maggie frowned, stroking at Buttons’ head gently. The creature hung down over her shoulders, but had lifted up to rest her chin on top of Maggie’s red mane. It was much more well kept than Ember’s ever had been, despite being the same color. Maggie was much more subdued than either of her mothers, a gentle soul who enjoyed being out doors in the garden and spending copious amounts of time with the various animals they kept. Their ‘farm’ was smaller than the one Anne had grown up on, boasting a single cow, three goats, an adorable pig, a whole flock of chickens, two horses, two sheep, and a an old donkey. This wasn’t including their dog, George, or the countless number of cats that seemed to find their way into the house next door or took up refuge in the barn depending on their preferences, and of course, Ophelia’s fox who was still as rambunctious as ever. Maggie also had several other smaller creatures kept in tanks in the bedroom she shared with her younger sister, Violette. There was a tortoise, a couple of small lizards, and of course, Buttons. She had always been more taken with reptiles than anything else for some reason, enjoying their company the most despite them not being fuzzy. Not that you’d ever be able to tell by looking at her.

Maggie, or Magnolia Elizabeth, as she had been named at birth, had always been much more… girly, than either of her mothers could have imagined her being. She had been dead set on always wearing pretty things since she was little. Dresses with ruffles and lacy frills, shiny boots and shoes, tights and hair ribbons. Her grandmother had been over the moon when she realized she finally had someone who would actually wear all the old dresses she had tried to put on Ember when she’d been small. Of course, Meghan had also put them on her other granddaughters, but Cordelia had revolted and Ophelia had always wanted to wear the pink, pink, and pink ones, leaving the blues and greens behind. But Maggie, that darling girl, would play dress up to the point of several outfit changes a day. Even now, at fourteen, the girl had chosen a white frock embroidered with colorful flowers and short lace sleeves. Her long red hair hung down her back in perfectly done up curls, pinned back from her face with several sparkling barrettes. A straw hat was clasped in one hand, the ribbon around it white lace today to match, the shoes on her feet chunky sandals with two-inch heels which was as high as her mothers would allow Maggie to wear at her age. She had already surpassed Anne in height and would probably do the same to Ember if she kept growing at the current rate she was going. Meghan was decently tall and David had been as well, so it wasn’t particularly surprising.

“She did, did she?” Ember sighed, rubbing at her temples a bit. Of course Anne would think it was perfectly alright to bring an eight-foot snake along to a party. Anne had no sense of what was and wasn’t acceptable as far as animals were concerned, nor the idea that certain creatures might possibly make some people rather uncomfortable. Ember understood how she and Maggie felt, but at the same time… “Baby, Mum lets Tits sleep in bed with us sometimes, she’s not exactly-”

“What’s wrong with Tits sleeping in bed?” Maggie asked, tilting her head to one side, not really able to see the issue as to why a cow shouldn’t be allowed in the house for snuggles. Mrs. Milkietits was one of the sweetest creatures on their small farm and Maggie loved her dearly to the point where if her bed had been big enough she would have gladly shared with her. Unfortunately, when one only has a twin sized bed and a large snake that insists on sleeping with you, it was a bit difficult to add any other potential guests. Even George had to wiggle his way in now that Buttons had grown to nearly her full anticipated length. Maggie had told just one little fib when she’d been young, a promise that Buttons ‘won’t get that much bigger’ despite definitely knowing better by that point. At eight she had been hell bent on getting a big, big, big snake, but at the time, Buttons had merely been about two feet long. Surely an easy enough pet so long as she was taken care of properly. When she’d hit about four feet long, Ember had asked Maggie again, how long her snake was getting and this time, her daughter had told the truth. Potentially nine feet, but at least Buttons was a nice snake. “Violette gets to sleep in the house every night and she’s not nearly as well behaved as Tits.”

“Am too!” Violette shouted, racing into the room wearing nothing but her bathing suit, her strawberry blonde locks a mess that looked as if it had once been tamed but disrupted shortly afterwards. At nine, Violette had settled a little bit from when she’d been smaller, but definitely not by much. She was still wild and untameable but had become more aware that her actions did, in fact, tend to have consequences occasionally. Not completely, of course, but enough that she sometimes, on occasion, did think before she did something.

“Where are your shorts?”

“Shorts are overrated!” Violette shouted, booking it out the back sliding door of the kitchen and into the yard. Maggie shook her head, laughing at her sister’s antics. Violette never wanted to wear clothes that restricted any kind of movement. She would spend her entire day in bathing suits or leotards during the warmer months, occasionally topping them off with tutus or sports shorts. When they had been a bit younger, Maggie and Violette had preferred always dressing completely alike, matching outfits and hairdos. That had changed a good bit once Maggie had started Hogwarts and Violette was left to her own devices. Now they didn’t tend to match unless they were doing some kind of family photo or it was Christmas time.

“Violette Eveleen, you need to put on some actual clothing before our guests get here.” Ember called out the door before turning her attention back to her much more tame daughter. She sighed, eyeing the snake. “Alright, but keep your eye on her and if she scares anyone, bring her back up to the house.”

“Got it.” Maggie beamed, glad to have been given total permission on her snake. She turned her head, kissing at the scaly beast’s belly as her mam took off after Violette, not as fast as she usually was. snatching dry clothes off the laundry line as she went. Maggie watched them for a moment before putting her hat on and heading outside to try and help wrangle her sister. Her mother wasn’t supposed to be running about like she was used to, her slowly growing stomach already hanging out from underneath one of her normal tank tops, the sports shorts she wore hanging on for dear life on her hips. One more baby, her mother had said. Just one more now that Mammy was cured of her lycanthropy, one of the first of her kind to have ever been given such a gift. It had been a startling, wonderful thing the first night their Great Uncle Alphie hadn’t turned, and then, when Mam hadn’t done so the next month. Mummy had finally done it and soon the cure had been administered to Grampa and then Uncle Max and his son, taking away the painful transformations that had plagued them all for so many years. Maggie, personally, was excited to have a new little sibling despite knowing she would probably be away at school when they were born. She was hoping they wouldn’t be nearly as wild as Violette was though.

After letting Buttons down onto the grass, Maggie was able to grab her sister just as she made a corner around the large swing set they had all spent so many hours playing on throughout the years. Uncle Coal had built it before Maggie had even been thought of and it held up beautifully, but it also gave Violette plenty of places to try and escape. She howled as a Maggie lifted her into the air and Ember shoved shorts up her legs, buttoning them in place despite her daughter’s displeasure. Usually, there wouldn’t be any kind of issue with Violette scampering about in just her bathing suit, but today was special and they were having over actual people they didn’t know super well. At least, some of them. Maggie was quite familiar with Addie, her cousin Gulliver’s girlfriend who had been visiting for years at this point, but she hadn’t ever met the older girl’s family properly before. They were coming, along with some other members of the Weasley clan, for a good bye party for the pair. Gully and Adelaide were to be leaving tomorrow afternoon, heading out on a great adventure to the other side of the world to attend a magical performing arts university in New York. Maggie was pretty certain her Auntie Eveleen had been crying over it already despite the fact that she had four other children to look after still. Well, two once Hogwarts started back up next week, there would be more tears when Madeline boarded the train for the very first time this year.

With Violette dressed and her snake back on her shoulders, Maggie took her little sister’s hand and they headed through the gate into their grandmother’s back yard and then, over to the long path that would take them to the large field through the woods. It was where they did all of their celebrations and where the kids liked to play a lot when they were old enough to be out of sight for longer periods of time. In the summer it was perfect, with the pond for swimming, the beachy bit lovely for building sandcastles, picnic tables for food, and a large area where they would, on occasion, build a bonfire full of many wonderful colors.

Maggie released Violette when they reached the field, letting her sister run off to join Tennyson and Sawyer who were already sword fighting with a pair of sticks on the playground. With a sigh, Maggie headed for the lake, toeing off her sandals when she reached the shoreline. She slipped her woven bag off her shoulder and tugged out her towel, placing it down on a softer portion of grass for Buttons to sit on while Maggie flopped down beside her, pulling out a book to read for a while. Behind her, family members were already finishing up tying balloons down to the tables and setting out food platters. The door to the storage shed nearby creaked and Maggie looked up, but it was only her brother Danny carrying some floats, his cheeks red from the sun… or from the brunette trailing along after him, her own face pink as she looked down at her feet. Maggie giggled but didn’t say a word as she returned to her book for the time being.

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years ago

Text

Not father by blood, but still your father; Roger Taylor x reader (oc! child)

*Author’s note*

Well after a full day of writing this idea in my head, I finally worked up the courage to post this. Sorry if it feels a little rushed with the romance stuff, but I hope the platonic stuff fills all of you with warm feels and gooeyness. There's not really much warning except for the arsehole Paul Prenter who has to ruin everything. So I hope you all enjoy this fic and don't forget to like and comment below and above :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@mexifangorl

@platawnic

___________________________________________________________

Never did he think he’d be ready for this step so soon. But the second he set eyes on (y/n) (l/n), Roger Taylor was twitterpatted. It was 1971 when he first met her. Just shortly after Queen had recorded their first album, he was browsing through a record shop one day and that’s when he heard her recommend the new Hendrix album over the AC/DC.

From that moment on, it was love and first sight with Roger. But of course flirter that he was, she at first wasn’t interested but after a few attempts at being a gentleman at various occasions like whenever she saw him perform at the bigger pubs and small venues, she decided to give him a chance.

After about six months of being together, the longest he had ever had a committed relationship, (y/n) confessed something to him. She was petrified to tell him but he assured her that he wasn’t going to flee no matter what it was.

It was then she confessed that she had another guy in her life. At first Roger thought she was cheating on him but it was then she told him it wasn’t another boyfriend, but her son.

About a year before she met Roger, she and her ex-boyfriend dated for a good six years together, soulmates at college. That was until she found out that she was pregnant and at first she thought he was cool with it, until one day his stuff was packed and he was nowhere to be found. He never called or wrote to her telling her where he had gone, it was like he vanished off the face of the earth.

It was then any other relationship she tried to start up with, as soon as a kid was brought up, every guy high-tailed to the hills and didn’t want another date.

Surprisingly for Roger, he didn’t flee. I mean yeah a kid is a big responsibility but he was just in admiration of how strong she truly was knowing that even after all that she went through, she somehow still managed to keep a job at the café she worked in, raise a son all on her own and still somehow be this vibrant spirit he saw her to be.

Roger also decided that he would like to meet the little guy because if he was going to be in her life, then he needed the approval of the man who loved her most. And let’s just say the day Roger met little Caleb, he fell for him just like he fell for his mother.

Even at just 18 months old, Caleb immediately took to Roger and always wanted to be around him. He’d crawl over to him and try to stand up on his own by using Roger’s jeans as an anchor for pulling himself up.

As Caleb grew older, he came to see Roger as the father figure he needed. And Roger was more than happy to fill in that role. He taught Caleb everything from cars, to drums, hell by the time the kid was 4 he bought him his own mini-drum kit (hoping to teach him to play before Brian weaseled his way into teaching him guitar, or Freddie with the piano).

In fact all the boys of Queen grew to love Caleb like their own nephew and they couldn’t help but spoil the boy too much, especially Freddie.

It was now 1975 and the boys were off at Rockfield farm recording their 5th album “A night at the Opera”. But they were also prepping something else, for tomorrow was July 23rd, and that meant for the boys of Queen that it was going to be Caleb’s 6th birthday.

(Y/n) and Caleb were planning to get there by morning so that meant she was probably driving them all the way to the farm as they speak. Freddie and Brian were putting up the last of the decorations while Deacy tended to the cake.

“Please tell me the cake got done properly this time.” Said Roger as he came down the stairs with the gifts.

“No worries Roger, never doubt my baking skills. At least Brian and I know how to deal with eggs.”

“That was one time Deacy!” Roger exclaimed.

“Try seven. You’re lucky (y/n) came along when she did and at least tried to stop you from doing it the 8th time in a month.”

“Oh sod off! Fred, Bri the streamers up yet!?”

“Take it easy darling you can’t rush perfection.” Freddie said.

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you!”

“Take it easy Rog, we’ll get this up in plenty of time.” Brian tried to assure his long time bandmate.

“Sorry, it’s just I want this party to be perfect for Caleb.”

“And it will Rog, you’re just overreacting. And as I’ve told you before darling there’s only room in this band for one hysterical queen.” Freddie said as he finished tacking the last of the streamers. “There, perfect!” he clapped his hands before stepping down the ladder.

“I honestly don’t get why we’re doing this. All this is is a distraction.” Paul’s voice piped in. Roger glared at him to see the snake leaning against the stairway and he snapped at him.

“If you don’t like it here then I’ll happily call you a cab back to London.”

“As your day to day assistant I have to be here.”

“Then if you’re going to complain take it up outside with the cows because they can take your shit. And I better not see you smoking anywhere near Caleb when he gets here!”

“For once I agree with Rog, so what’s it going to be Prenter?” asked Deacy. Paul knowing he couldn’t truly speak his mind, especially when Freddie was in the room he said.

“Just don’t make them stay long. Do the party for one day then kick them out.”

“They’re going to stay here as long as they want. Besides it’s been forever since I’ve seen the little tike. Why should you get to keep him all to yourself Roger?” Brian said. Roger grinned and said.

“Because I am his father and I forbid you to see him. Plus I know about those guitar lessons you’ve been trying to sneak him behind my back May.”

“Just saying, he’d look much better with a guitar in hand. Because the next thing we need in this world is another Roger Taylor. And god help us all when that day comes.” It was then Roger threw a birthday horn at Brian’s head.

“Children please. We can all murder each other but then who would be left to decorate the home for Caleb?”

“You and me Fred. So please both of you kindly set you rivalry aside and get back to work.” Deacy said as he got to work decorating the cake.

As the night went on by around 11:30 the boys finally got the house all set up for a six year old’s birthday party.

“Well I think that’s everything.” Said Roger.

“It looks good.” Said Brian admiring their hard work.

“Of course it is Brian because I designed the theme. That darling little boy is going to love it.” Freddie said.

“We’ll see come morning. What time did (y/n) say she’d be here?” asked Deacy to Roger.

“She said she’s be getting on the road at about 2-3am so that way she’d be here by around 7 maybe 8am.”

“Alright well my darlings I think after all this, we deserve a good night’s rest. Because tomorrow is party time!” Freddie proclaimed.

“Just don’t get drunk like last year Fred.” Lectured Brian.

“Don’t worry I took out all the booze this time around.” Deacy said. And with that the four band members heading towards their rooms and got a good night’s rest because tomorrow they knew they were in for a wild ride.

By dawn at the rooster’s crow, Roger groaned and placed his pillow over his face trying to block out the sound of the crowing. But then he also heard the sound of a car pulling up along the gravel driveway.

At first he thought nothing of it, that was until he remembered what day it was.

“Caleb. Birthday. Today! SHIT!!!” He quickly raced towards the window and saw (y/n)’s car pulling up and heard the engine shut off. “Fuck!” he quickly got dressed and of course in such a rush, he tripped a few times getting his pants on before banging along the walls trying to wake up Freddie and Brian. “WAKE UP YOU LOT THEY’RE HERE!!”

He raced out only to see that he wouldn’t be the first one to greet them. Ever the early rise he was, Deacy and (y/n) separated from their hug and they turned to look towards Roger.

“Well finally decided to wake up eh?” Deacy mocked.

“You…..I’ll deal with you later.” He sneered.

“Please Roger, no fighting with your rhythmic partner. Especially with the birthday boy present.” (y/n) said as she walked up to him and cooled his hot-headedness with a peck to the lips.

“Where is he?”

“Still asleep in the back. Little man slept through the entire ride over here. It hurt me to wake him up so early so that we could get on the road early enough to beat the London summer traffic.”

“Well it’ll all be worth it. I think he’s gonna love what we did for him inside.”

“And there she is! (Y/n) darling.” They turned to see Freddie and Brian standing along the porch. Freddie in his nightly kimono they got from Japan and Brian in a simple tank top and some shorts.

“Freddie, Brian. So sorry to have you guys wake up so early. Especially you Bri, I know how terrible you are in the mornings.”

“This is the one day of the year I’ll be okay with getting up at the crack of dawn. Need any help unloading anything?”

“Yes, I’ve got some of the remaining presents as well as some party games. If you lot could help me…..”

“Oh darling don’t be ridiculous, you will not be lifting a finger. You’ve already sacrificed some sleep just to get here, let us handle the unpacking while you and Roger handle the birthday boy.” Freddie said as he came up to (y/n) and placed both his hands on her shoulders.

“But—”

“He’s right love. The guys can handle the stuff.” Roger assured her. With the famed baby blue puppy dog eyes, she knew she couldn’t say no.

“Alright then you two. Come help me out then.” Deacy said as he unlocked (y/n)’s trunk and grabbed a few of the presents. Freddie grabbed the board games while Bri got the rest of the presents. As she went to open up the back door of her car, she told the guys to be quiet and they did as the three of them rushed back into the house.

“Here stay out of sight for a bit till I get him to wake up. Want to make this a surprise, I never told him where we were going.” Roger grinned and hid behind the car and got down so that he’d stay out of sight.

She opened the door and stroked her son’s cheek as she softly called out.

“Caleb. Caleb love.” He stirred and rubbed his hands over his eyes as he groaned and began to wake up.

“Mummy?”

“Hey handsome boy, time to rub Mr. Sandman’s sand out of your eyes. We’ve arrived at our destination.” Once Caleb became a bit more aware of where they were now, he asked.

“Where are we mummy?”

“Well baby; since I knew you were pretty bummed about the guys missing your 6th birthday party due to them recording their album, I thought I might bring you to a very special place. And there’s someone special who wants to see you.” (y/n) turned towards Roger and he slowly came into the frame and he said.

“Someone mention me?”

“Daddy!” Caleb called out. He struggled to get out of his seatbelt. Both Roger and (y/n) chuckled as (y/n) reached in to unbuckle him.

“Hold still sweetie, I know you’ve missed your daddy but you gotta stay still for a second.” Once she got him unbuckled, she moved out of the way and Caleb immediately flew into Roger’s arms.

Rog spun his boy around and playfully nuzzled him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“What? What?”

“Do you know what today is?”

“Hmm I don’t know is it…..Christmas?”

“No silly that’s still a long ways away. Although I wish it was Christmas.” Roger chuckled and he adjusted Caleb from his hip to around his waist.

“Okay is it……your first day of primary school?”

“Ewww no!”

“Then I don’t know, what is today bubs?”

“My birthday!”

“Your what?”

“My birthday!”

“It’s not your birthday.” Teased Roger.

“Yes it is.” Giggled Caleb.

“Oh really? Well if it’s your birthday then how old are you today?”

“Six years old, going on seven.”

“Six!? Wow that makes you a man now huh?” Caleb nodded enthusiastically while (y/n) playfully rolled her eyes.

“Please don’t make my baby boy think he’s too old for his mummy.”

“Oh never my love. No matter how old he gets, a boy will always need his mum, right champ?”

“Right! Love you mummy.”

“And I love you my little baby bear.” She cooed as she Eskimo kissed him while cupping his face and giving him multiple pecks all over his face. He groaned and ewed at the wet kisses he was receiving till he finally buried his face into Roger’s neck.

“Alright squirt, let’s get you inside.” Roger then carried Caleb into the house while the birthday boy kept asking if he could play with the farm animals, Roger answered with a maybe.

The three of them entered the house which had all of the lights turned off.

“Why’s it so dark in here?” Caleb asked a bit fearfully as he clung onto Roger’s jeans.

“It’s alright bubs, I’ll turn on the lights for yah.” The second the lights came on; Freddie, Brian and Deacy popped out from their hiding spots throwing confetti everywhere, blowing on small birthday bugles proclaimed.

“SURPRISE!!” Caleb’s face went full on ecstatic as he raced up to his uncle Freddie first who happily picked him up and spun him around.

“Happy birthday you lovely darling!”

“I can’t believe you guys are really here.”

“Better believe it lad, happy birthday buddy.” Deacy said as he placed the birthday crown on top of Caleb’s head.

“A crown befitting a prince, don’t you think so Roger? (Y/n)?”

“Indeed Freddie, and a very cute prince at that.” (y/n) teased as she gently pinched her son’s cheek.

“Mum! Prince’s aren’t supposed to be called cute!” he whined out as he rubbed his cheek.

“Oh right sorry, I meant handsome.”

“Alright Caleb, what would you like to do first?” asked Deacy.

“Presents!” the boy exclaimed.

“Uhh sweetie, how about we hold off on presents for a little while.” (y/n) told her son.

“Oh come off it (y/n) dear. Caleb is such a good boy plus it’s his birthday. If he wants to open up presents first, then he shall open his presents.” Freddie said as he playfully jostled the boy in his arms making him laugh.

“Fred you’re going to spoil that boy.” Roger said.

“I’m his godfather I’m allowed to spoil him. Now let’s open some presents.”

“Yaaaaay!” cheered Caleb as Freddie took him over to the ‘birthday chair’ (which was just one of the chairs from the kitchen but had some paper folded on the two top ends to make them look like a throne).

“Okay my darling Caleb you’re gonna want to open mine first because it’s the best present ever.” Freddie said as he gave him a very large (and when I mean large, I mean large, it could’ve been as tall as Caleb was standing up).

“Freddie what did you get him?” asked (y/n).

“Spoilers darling, go on Caleb dear open it up.” Almost immediately, the six year old boy is ripping up the wrapping paper and opened up the box to reveal a large shark bag chair with open jaw and everything. Since he saw the film JAWS, Caleb had been obsessed with sharks so when Freddie saw this while touring in America, he thought only one person had to have it.

“Wow!”

“You like it dear?”

“I love it, thanks uncle Freddie this is the best gift ever!” Caleb hugged his godfather thanking him repeatedly.

“Alright Caleb why not open the rest of your presents just so that your uncles and daddy don’t feel left out hmm?” he nodded and proceeded to open the rest of his presents.

From Brian he got some space coloring books and a Lego space set. Deacy got him some animal books and a new stuffed lion (he, Roger and Caleb considered themselves the lion coalition since they were all born under the Leo zodiac). Roger gave him some Hotwheels model cars as well as a new drum set that almost resembled the set that Roger uses on stage (Queen design included), and his mom gave him the typical mom gifts some new clothes (but she got clothes that she knew he’d like that would have sharks or monster trucks on them) as well as a new teddy bear.

After presents, Deacy brought in the cake and Freddie lit the candles. Brian picked up the birthday boy and they all gathered around the kitchen and everyone began to sing happy birthday to him. (Y/n) setting up the video camera began recording to keep the memory of this day forever in the years to come.

Caleb felt like the luckiest boy on earth because to him it wasn’t just his family that was singing to him, but when you can say your family is Queen, it makes you feel even more special. After the song, he closed his eyes to make a wish before blowing out the candles. Everyone clapped and cheered then Deacy began cutting the cake.

It was the typical family picture for a kid’s birthday party (minus all the screaming kids). Caleb telling the guys some of the things he’s done since summer holiday started for him, the four men listening intently, smiling and laughing. Pictures were taken all thanks to Brian, and for the rest of the day it was game time.

From musical chairs, twister, scrabble (of course they let Caleb win a few rounds), to pin the tail on the donkey. Caleb enjoyed playing each game because he liked playing with his family, especially his dad.

Later that night, Caleb was in the living room cuddled between his parents. He held his stuffed lion close to him as he leaned against his daddy’s arm.

“Did you have a good birthday bubs?” asked Roger. Caleb hummed tiredly as he cuddled closer to him.

“Seems our birthday boy’s tired himself out.” Said (y/n). She strokes her son’s cheek and she tells him, “Caleb, sweetie, would you like daddy and I to make you a bath before bedtime?” he nodded.

“Alright pal, I’ll come down and get you once your mum and I get the bath ready. Don’t fall asleep till then okay?”

“I’ll try.” Caleb says tiredly as he rubs his eyes. The two adults chuckle softly and stand up before heading upstairs to prep his bath.

As Caleb stretches himself out and yawns he then hears a voice say.

“Seems you had a good birthday.” He turns around and soon coming into the living room was Paul Prenter.

“Mm-hmm, it was fun.”

“The lads and your mum sure did spoil you.”

“Yeah. I like it when they do.”

“You know I shouldn’t probably say this but I’m not sure you know what exactly Freddie and the boys do.”

“I know who they are. They’re Queen, the greatest rock band ever.”

“That they are. And their fame is only going to keep growing, especially after this album.”

“Uncle Freddie says he’s gonna let me listen to some of the songs tomorrow.”

“And what a lucky boy you must be. I mean might as well let you have one final moment with them before they’re too busy for you.” Caleb turned to the Irish man and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well after this album takes off, it’ll be nothing but non-stop tours, album recordings, concerts, press interviews, Queen will be the highest band in the world. Even bigger than the Beatles. They won’t have time for family matters.”

“Huh? But they always have time for me.” It was then Paul sighed clearly showing his annoyed impatience as he continued.

“Alright for your own sake I’ll be blunt. They won’t have time to spend with you. In fact you’ll just be a distraction to their work. Especially Freddie. He is the leader of Queen after all and he can’t have his vision compromised by a child. John and Brian will just grow tired of having to watch over a child constantly when they should be focusing on their rifts. And Roger…..well he’s always gotten the girls’ attentions. Eventually he’ll find there are better more flexible girls that won’t have a child to tie him down.”

“But he’s my daddy! He’d never hurt me and mummy.” Paul grinned and chuckled icily.

“To be honest I don’t even know why he calls himself that. He was never your father to begin with. Your real father abandoned you the moment your mother had found out you were created. Roger’s fooling himself because he’s just like the one who abandoned you.”

Caleb looked down sadly and could feel a lump in his throat and start to feel the tears pooling into his eyes.

“Caleb?” soon coming down the stairs was Roger. The second he saw Paul kneeling down before his son, he got defensive. “What’s going on Prenter!?”

“Oh nothing Roger, just asking the little tike if he had a good birthday.” Then like nothing had happened, Paul ruffled the boy’s head before heading on out for a smoke break. Roger eyed Paul skeptically knowing that something must’ve been up, but he set it aside and knelt down in front of Caleb.

“Your bath’s ready bud, you ready?”

“Can—can mummy bathe me tonight instead?” Caleb asked. Roger was surprised to hear that because bath time was usually their thing (in Caleb’s words, Roger was more fun during bath time when it came to battleship wars)

“Uhh sure. I’m—sure she wouldn’t mind.” Without another word, Caleb raced upstairs. As (y/n) was coming out of the bathroom, she felt something tackle her almost making her lose her balance. She looked down to see her son and she said.

“Caleb, what’s the matter love?” He spoke not a word but she did hear a sniffle and soft sob coming out of him. She knelt down and hugged her son and rubbed her back. At that moment, Roger came up the stairs and just stood there horrified to see his son crying.

(Y/n) shrugged in a ‘I don’t know what’s wrong’ manner but kept hugging and comforting her son.

After bath time thanks to Freddie, Caleb was allowed to sleep in his room while Fred took the couch. (Y/n) tucked her son in and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight my sweet prince.”

“Night, night mummy.” He said. She stood up and replacing her was Roger.

“Sweet dreams monkey.” He leaned down to kiss Caleb on the opposite cheek but to his surprise, Caleb turned away refusing his daddy’s kiss. Heartbroken but still wanting to show his son some affection, Roger kissed the boy’s temple and patted his arm before standing up.

The two bid the boy goodnight before turning off the light and shut the door. As the two of them prepared for bed Roger asked.

“Did he say why he was so upset?”

“No. Why did something happen downstairs when you went to get him?”

“I mean I saw Paul kneeling in front of him, if he said anything to him I’ll throw him out the bloody window of the recording studio as soon as we get home.”

“You do realize you guys have the 24th floor of that studio right.”

“So?”

“Roger, I love you but I’d rather not date a convicted criminal.”

“Hey I’d become a criminal if it means protecting you and my son.”

“I know you would love. Let’s—just let him sleep and maybe he’ll come around tomorrow.” She kissed his lips and the two of them cuddled together for the night.

However the next morning Caleb shook his mum awake asking her if they could go home. Roger and her asked why he wanted to leave so early when they could’ve stayed a couple of weeks there, but the boy refused to answer. He just clung to his mum and asked if they could go home.

Giving into her son’s request, she packed up the presents and loaded the car up ready to head back to their home in London.

But when the four boys of Queen went to say goodbye to their number one fan, he hid behind his mum’s legs and clung onto her like a koala. He refused to make eye contact with them as he got into the backseat and hid under the window.

“What’s wrong with Caleb?” asked Brian.

“I don’t know.” Answered (y/n) solemnly.

“Roger what did you do?” demanded Freddie.

“Me?! I did—”

“Don’t go blaming him Fred, he wouldn’t talk to us last night. But—maybe I’ll get him to talk once we get home. I’ll let you four know when we get there.”

“Okay, drive safe love. And do you—mind if you check in on Veronica for me?” asked Deacy.

“No problem Deacy. I am you guys mid-wife after all. I’ll check on her and see how she and the future little Deacy duckling is doing.” (y/n) hugged all the boys goodbye before leaving Roger for last.

The two lovers embraced each other and Roger whispered to her.

“Please give my love to him okay?”

“I will Rog I promise. You keep making songs and don’t lock yourself in a cupboard again.”

“No promises love.” She rolled her eyes before kissing Roger softly while cupping his face. They eventually separated as (y/n) got in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine before finally pulling out of the farm and headed back into the city.

It was Christmas time and the boys were prepping for their live Christmas Eve show at the Hammersmith Odeon to help promote the success for “A night at the opera”. (Y/n) was getting ready to head over to the theater because afterwards she and the guys were gonna come to the house for a little Christmas gift exchange.

“Caleb love, are you sure you don’t wanna go see the show live?” (y/n) asked her son. She’s been noticing how lately Caleb hasn’t wanted anything to do with Roger or the guys lately and she was starting to get worried.

“I’m sure mummy. I’ll just watch it on TV.”

“Okay honey, if you’re sure.” He nodded solemnly as he fiddled with his new Star Wars X-wing he got from Deacy as a pre-Christmas gift. After putting on the last of her makeup, the doorbell rang and (y/n) went over to the door and opened it up to reveal her best friend since childhood Dani.

“Hey girl!” she proclaimed in an ‘I’m here’ fashion.

“Hey Dani, thank you so much for babysitting at the last minute.”

“No worries girl, I love that kid to death, he is my godson after all. Where is the little cutie?”

“He’s in the living room playing.” Sensing her best friend’s worry, Dani asked.

“You okay?”

“Honestly I’m worried about Caleb.”

“What’s going on?”

“Ever since his birthday he’s been acting a little strange lately. Anything having to do with Roger or the guys he’s—he’s been ignoring them or not wanting to have anything to do with them.”

“What? Really?” she exclaimed softly in shock. (Y/n) nodded.

“He won’t talk to me about it and I’m getting worried. What if he’s—”

“Hey, hey, hey don’t think about that right now. I’ll try and get him to watch their live broadcast and see if I can get anything out of him. After all when it comes to the really juicy stuff that gets to him, he’s always told me.”

“What exactly has he told you?”

“I’m sworn under oath to never tell mummy.”

“I’ll deal with you later, but right now I better get out of here if I want to get to the Hammersmith on time.” The two women hugged each other and (y/n) went over to hug and kiss her son goodbye before finally heading out to meet with the boys at the Hammersmith Odeon.

At the theater; the boys had gotten fully dressed and were about to start the live broadcast. When they heard a knock at their dressing room, Deacy went up and opened it to reveal (y/n).

“Hello (y/n).” he said.

“Hey Deacy, I just came back to wish you guys good luck.”

“Hello my love.” Roger came up and the two of them kissed. “Where’s Caleb?”

“He—”

“He didn’t come did he.” Roger said more as a statement than a question.

“I’m sorry love.”

“Is…..it something I did?”

“Honestly Rog, I don’t know. He won’t tell me.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You don’t think he hates me, do you?”

“No that can’t be it. He’s always loved you Rog. I wouldn’t worry about it now, you’ve got to focus on the show.”

“I know. But I just wish my little bud was here. It—really hasn’t been the same since his birthday.”

“We’ll figure it out soon my love.” She kissed Roger comfortingly and that’s when the producer came in and said.

“Queen, time to get on stage.” The couple separated from each other but took each other’s hands and the five of them walked towards the stage.

“I’ll be watching from right here cheering you four on.” Said (y/n) with a smile.

“We know you will darling. Hope the little darling is watching from home. I’m dedicating his favorite to him.” Freddie said. After Bob Harris gave the introduction, the boys raced on stage and performed their hearts out.

After the show, the boys and (y/n) arrived back at her place and there they saw Dani holding a sleeping Caleb on her lap. Dani looked and she smiled at the five of them.

“How was he?” whispered (y/n).

“He was an angel as always.”

“Did he watch the concert?” asked Brian. At that question, Dani looked down solemnly.

“I turned it on but he didn’t really pay attention. I tried to get him to talk to me but he wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“You? His most trusted secret keeper?” asked Freddie bewildered.

“Yeah.” She said as she stroked his head softly. (Y/n) knelt down and gently picked her son up.

“Can I take him to bed?” asked Roger. His eyes filled desperate to hold his little boy again. Complying and fearfully thinking this maybe the only time he’d get to hold her son, she handed Caleb over to Roger.

He held him against his shoulder and took him upstairs to his room. Roger set Caleb down and tucked him in, he reached over and tucked the teddy bear the two of them won at the Autumn carnival last year. He stroked the little boy’s cheek with his thumb and whispered.

“I love you buddy. Merry Christmas.” He leaned down and kissed the boy’s forehead before sitting up and left his room. He came back down the stairs and (y/n) said.

“He still asleep?”

“Little guy didn’t even stir. That’s—the first time I’ve ever got to hold him since his birthday.”

“I know Rog.” She cooed as she hugged him and stroked through his long hair.

“Can we place our gifts for Caleb under the tree?” asked Brian. She nodded and the guys placed their Christmas gifts for Caleb under the tree, as well as the gifts they were gonna exchange to each other in the morning.

“I think I’m gonna hit the sack. We can start the gift exchange first thing in the morning.” Deacy said.

“Oh yeah cause you and Veronica are planning to go to her parent’s for dinner aren’t you?” (y/n) said as Deacy nodded. “That sounds good, we won’t keep you long Deacy. In fact I think you all deserve some rest after the show you all performed tonight.”

“You said it darling, 14 songs, four encores. I’m bloody exhausted.” Freddie said as he sighed heavily.

“Yeah. Goodnight you guys.” Said Brian.

“Night.” Soon everyone went to their guest rooms while Roger and (y/n) went into her room. As Roger collapsed onto her bed, she got on her night dress and crawled up towards him and cuddled up into his chest. Roger wrapped his arms around her and he nuzzled into her hair and without another word the two of them fell asleep.

By morning, the sound of little feet pattered towards the master bedroom. Caleb crawled up onto the bed and began shaking the figure underneath.

“Mummy! Mummy wake up wake up it’s Christmas! Wake up lazy mummy! Let’s go see what Santa brought!”

“Geez bud, you never cease using us as a bouncy castle do you.” At hearing the sound of a male voice instead of his mum’s, Caleb got off the figure and out popped out Roger.

“Sorry Roger.” Caleb said lowly as he couldn’t even look him in the eye. Feeling his heart clench that his son still wouldn’t look at him, he said.

“There’s no need to be sorry buds. So shall we see what Father Christmas brought you this year?” he asked trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe later, excuse me.” He then left the room without saying a word. Roger tried to reach out for him but he knew it was pointless. He sighed solemnly and put on an old t-shirt and grabbed his robe as he went downstairs.

“What was all that racket I heard upstairs?” asked Freddie.

“Caleb woke up thinking I was his mum. But then as soon as he saw it was me he barely spoke to me.”

“Oh Roger darling.” Freddie stood up and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“He couldn’t even look at me Fred. What did I do to him?”

“I’m sure it’s not something you did intentionally, not like you always do.” At that statement Roger glared at him. “Right not helping. Have some breakfast and maybe head back on up and see what’s going on. Cause more importantly I hadn’t gotten my Caleb hugs from him at all since his birthday and I’ve missed those so much.”

“Glad to see my problem makes you feel more like the victim than I am.” Roger muttered.

“Breakfast is ready!” (y/n)’s voice called out. As the boys of Queen gathered around to make their plates, Brian was setting up the presents so that while they were eating, they could quickly do gifts before Deacy had to leave to meet up with Veronica, their son Robert to head on out to meet her family for Christmas.

“Okay so I’ll be on the right side of the couch, Deacy you’ll be the left since it’s closer to the door, Freddie you’ll have the recliner, and Roger and (y/n) can take the loveseat.” Brian said.

“Sounds good to me.” Deacy stated as he came up towards his seat.

“Caleb come on down for breakfast love before it gets cold!” (y/n) called from the bottom step.

“I’ll be down soon mum!” he called out but she somehow knew that none of them would see him.

“Okay so….who wants to go first?” asked Freddie.

“I’ll go.” Roger said. As he went through each gift which included a new set of drumsticks with his name engraved on them, some new tools to help work on his cars, the latest “The Who” record, and some boat/yacht magazines. It was then he came across the last gift which was just a shoebox with a note that said.

To; Roger and the boys

From; Caleb

“Guys, this is from Caleb. And it’s to all of us.” Freddie, Bri and Deacy all came around him and Brian asked.

“Well what is it?”

“Open it Roger.”

“Alright, alright don’t get your knickers in a twist Fred.” He opened it up but the four of them were shocked to see what was inside.

“Are—are those…..” (y/n) started off.

“It’s all the little trinkets we’ve gotten him from our tours around the world.” Deacy said. The boys looked at each other worriedly as Freddie took out the tiny cat statue he got Caleb in Japan just last year. Deacy pulled out the snow globe of the Eiffel Tower that he got in Paris when he was 3 years old.

Brian took out the small spaceship he bought at a giftshop in Washington D.C. for his 4th birthday, and Roger pulled out the picture he had (y/n) take of them when Roger first bought him his first drumkit. Shaking his head he placed it back and said.

“Okay that’s it.”

“Roger, Roger what are you—” (y/n) tried to stop him but of course when Roger sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. When he finally reached Caleb’s room, he walked right on in to see the six year old on his bed twiddling with his thumbs.

“Care to explain this Caleb?” he tried his best to not shout at the boy but his tone couldn’t help but come off as betrayed, angered and heartbroken. “Caleb why are you giving us back all the stuff that we’ve given you throughout the years? In fact why have you been acting like we hate you?! You’ve avoided us for months, you can’t look us in the eye and you seem to not want to have anything to do with us anymore!”

Steadily Roger’s voice got angrier and angrier. But then just before he could blow off his top, he heard the sounds of Caleb sniffling. He looked down to see the little boy trying to hold back his tears but they kept coming out in tiny drops, like a loose pipe dripping water in the sink.

Roger’s anger immediately deflated and all that he was filled with now was regret.

“Oh Caleb, ohh buddy I—I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m so sorry, c’mere.” He picked the boy up and held him close as Caleb finally started letting out all the tears he’s kept in for five months. “Shhhh, shhh. I’m sorry buddy. I’m so sorry. I’m not mad at you, it’s okay, it’s okay shhh.”

“Y-you….can—gonna….leave…..”

“Caleb, pal I can’t understand you right now. You’re too upset to talk, take a few deep breaths with me, okay?” Caleb sniffled but nodded. Roger set him back down on the bed and knelt down in front of the boy.

He took his hands and helped guide him through some deep breathing exercises.

“In for three….one, two, three. Hold. Then out one, two, three, four, five. Good, again pal.” The two of them did the breathing technique together then once Caleb seemed to calm down, Roger softly smiled and tucked away the boy’s bangs away from his face. “You okay now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Caleb nodded softly.

“That’s good.” He gingerly wiped away the access tears that stuck to the boys face and said. “Do you wanna talk? I know something’s been bothering you for a while now. Tell me Caleb what is it?”

“I—I can’t tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because……because…..cause you’ll hate me.” At hearing that, Roger’s heart broke.

“Caleb. You know that I could never, ever hate you. Nothing in this entire world could ever make me do that.”

“But this might.”

“You’ll never know unless you try. Remember when you said you’d never be able to ride a bike? Hmm? Or play the drums? And what did you do?”

“I learned it.”

“Exactly. We never know what will come unless we take the dive and do it. Or talk about it. So come on pal out with it. I’m not a mind reader like Professor X. I can’t look into your head and see what’s been bothering you.” For awhile Caleb remained silent and refused to look Roger in the eye just like before.

But somehow Roger was patient and waited until Caleb finally spoke up.

“Are…..are you…..” he trailed off before looking away.

“Am I what pal?” Roger said as he turned the boy’s head back to him by gently cupping his face.

“Are you gonna forget mummy and me?” Roger was horrified to hear those words come out of him.

“What? No. Absolutely not. What made you get an idea like that?”

“M….Mr. Prenter told me back at the farm that—after this album you, Uncle Freddie, Uncle Bri and Uncle Deacy were gonna be so famous that you’d forget about us. That more girls would come to you and that you would leave mummy for them. And that….you wouldn’t…..want to be my daddy no more when they did.”

Roger was now a field of mixed emotions inside. There was sorrow and heartbreak of Caleb having to think this for over five months, no wonder why he wouldn’t see him or the guys. But there was also rage due to the fact that Paul Prenter, a grown man had the nerve to actually say things like that to a little boy.

“That son of a…..I know I keep saying but this time I mean it. I’ll throw him out the bloody window!”

At hearing the anger in Roger’s voice and seeing his blue eyes turn ice cold and murderous, Caleb whimpered and started trembling in fear.

“Oh no, no, no buddy, buddy it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry I scared you. Come here.” Roger instantly reverted back to his calm state that he always used with Caleb and he immediately hugged the boy close to him.

He rubbed his back in soothing circles and rocked him back and forth trying to comfort him.

“I didn’t mean to scare you bubs, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I vowed that I would never get angry around you.” He stroked Caleb’s head before planting a kiss on top of his head. “Listen Caleb. Forget everything that Paul said to you.”

“But…..”

“No buts, as your father I forbid you to mention him right now.”

“But he…..Mr. Prenter also said that you weren’t really my daddy. That my real daddy…..never wanted me.” Roger rubbed his son’s back and said.

“First of all Caleb, I want you to stop calling him Mr. Prenter. Mister is something you only use when someone respects you back. And Paul doesn’t deserve your respect.”

“Then what should I call him?”

“Whatever mean name you can come up with.” Caleb thought about it before saying.

“Poo-poo pee-pee!” Roger laughed and said.

“That’s perfect!” he playfully ruffled Caleb’s head messing up his inherited (h/c) from his mum. “Now everything that poo-poo pee-pee said to you, is nothing but lies. I love your mother, and I love you. You both are my whole world, sure there have been women while I was on the road trying to get a hold of me but every time I denied them because I already had my best girl and best bud waiting at home for me. And that they are the loves of my life.”

“But when he—said that you weren’t my real father. Is….is that true?” At that question, Roger knew he had to word it carefully because at this point Caleb was still fragile and if he said that what Paul said about Roger not being his real father was true, the poor boy would have a breakdown and feel like he’s been living a lie.

“I can tell you this Caleb. The man who—was with your mum before me. He lost a great opportunity. And his loss was my gain. Because just like Queen, you and your mum are my family. Just like I hope that I’m a part of yours. Family doesn’t always end in blood, it’s the bond we share with each other. And the love we give each other throughout our lives. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Oh you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to call me that again.” Roger said as he stroked Caleb’s cheek with his thumb and smiled down at him. “Can I get some lion cuddles and kisses?” Caleb nodded and cuddled close into Roger’s chest.

He clung onto his shirt before raising his head to kiss Roger’s cheek. Roger smiled and playfully devoured Caleb in wet kisses making him laugh and try to break free of Roger’s embrace. Roger chuckled and said.

“Now this is what I wanted for Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Your hugs and kisses are worth more than any presents Father Christmas can give. I’ve been denied this gift for five months so you better pay me back with as many hugs and kisses you can give me. Deal?”

“Deal.” The two men shook on it.

“Now tell me; who do I love most in the whole wide world?”

“Me and mummy!”

“You got that right pal. I love you so much Caleb.”

“I love you too daddy.” He hugged his father and Roger rubbed his back. “I’m—sorry I hurt your feelings daddy.”

“Shhh, don’t think of it anymore. All is forgiven. So long as you take back your gift.”

“I will. Do—Uncle Freddie, Bri and Deacy forgive me?”

“I’m sure they do. Freddie has been going on nonstop of how he’s missed your hugs. Wanna go down and see them?” he nodded and Roger picked him up so that he hung around his waist and the two of them headed downstairs. “Look whose finally decided to come down.”

“Caleb darling!” Freddie exclaimed. Roger set him down and Caleb immediately ran up to his uncle Freddie who picked him up and set him on his lap. “Ohh this is what I’ve waited for.”

“You happy now uncle Freddie?”

“Oh darling I am very happy.” As Roger came up to (y/n) she whispered.

“Everything okay now?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you once he tires from playing with all his presents.” And with that the five adults watched as Caleb ripped open every single one of his presents and was all oooh and awe.

Roger finally got what he wanted and he was so happy to finally have his little buddy back on his side. Because even though he wasn’t Caleb’s birth father, he still looked at that boy like he was his own son. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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clairebeauchampfan · 4 years ago

Text

It’s all a conspiracy, I tell ya. TBTB, The powers that be, are actually lizards, aren’t they?

These quotes from a recent over-excited post by three ‘fans’ . I’ve taken off the names to spare them the blushes when Caitriona and Tony’s Wedding Certificate comes out. But hey, that’ll be ‘faked’ too, won’t it? (my emphases)

‘Fan A’

Remember when this came out and Sam was Glamour’s no. 63 in their top 100 sexiest men. Selling the Highland warrior... one who obviously dates but is not in a committed relationship or about to get married, so women feel he’s available. We don’t see this quite so much now I guess given many people are onto the Fantasy man deal. Cait of course gets a mention here so it totally supports the opinion that the ONLY woman that could EVER threaten the sexy Highland warrior image is Caitriona. It was necessary to EXCLUDE her from the equation (imo FvF career carrot) as a sister who had a remarkable ‘wedding’ that the Highland warrior attended as a guest. Cait’s out, Sam’s obsession’s safe. No brainer. What’s interesting is that Sam never used to sell this well but since his meeting at Disney with Parnell and MIK got a gig, he’s now on board publicly running any connection to Cait under a bus. He’s backing the total burial of his own identity as a partner or family man which we’ve never seen before. As I’ve mentioned a number of times whatever Sam had in the pipeline to push him to do this must he big. Not sure how he’ll be with Cait in public...now she’s a sister...but he used to continually single her out as an important person in his life. The thing is...the universe kept them on side and supported their love for the way he did that imo. You start verbalising and the universe starts hearing...just sayin Sam. Of course the fly in the ointment in all this is if Sam has some little people in his life that look like him. Man, they’d certainly have those little rascals hidden away now and God forbid if anyone’s onto that! They’d be attacked and defamed for sure! I mean, we already know SC have their barrels locked and loaded incase shit hits the fan. Sam’s bullying letter and the evidence of killer-stalker grannies intruding on them is already there for any pissed off, played, Sam obsessed women to turn their anger onto Shippers and away from them. It’s there in place all ready to go. Sam and Cait can sit back and watch the onslaught of online bullying in their name from afar. It’s not going to be pretty but we know it’s coming. And let’s face it, they needed an out and we always knew it would be us. They can’t exactly turn around and run TPTB under a bus....they needed an exit strategy ready to go. The one thing they DON’T want is for the Sam obsessed to cotton on to the game before the pigs at the trough have had their fill...that everyone is satisfied and things have been ‘worth their while’. It’s not rocket science. Pandemic or not the sexy Highland warrior needs protecting as does the ‘exit strategy’.... Interestingly articles like this are becoming increasingly harder to find...I can see why....makes the whole game pretty obvious doesn’t it? Can’t have the Sam obsessed reading too many of these now they’ve been played for 6 years. What they are counting on is for those played women to be pretty dumb and latch onto the hooks in the exit strategy provided. I hope for their sake they’re right....they’ll already have enough pain from the years of lost moments and lies to haunt them...that’s if the universe continues to be on their side...and unfortunately the truth always has a way of coming out no matter how hard anyone tries to stop it...I mean...shared trailers and all...right Matt? Right Sam?? I say just come out already and get it over with before this happens!

‘Fan’ B

This post is the brutal truth. But there is one more vector in this rocket ride from the galaxy to the garbage dump....the quality of the Series itself. Like the “6-year lie....the show’s “real creative director” is driving the Series from “excellence” to the garbage dump as well. Start watching the Series from Season 1 and continue through Season 5....it plunges downward from excellence to a Season 4 flop...then gives us a little blip upward in Season 5. This downward trajectory matches identically with the lie about their private lives. As the lie became more ridiculous with time....so did the Series. How do the people in charge of this circus keep their jobs???? Who knows....maybe the virus will be the real killer of this misery. But I especially like this part of the post......” Of course the fly in the ointment in all this is if Sam has some little people in his life that look like him.”

FAN C

Well said, Fan A and Fan B Since its inception, this ‘fake narrative’ has become more and more unbelievable and ridiculous. I thought adding the ‘fauxgagement’ hit the all time low, but then add the ‘fauxmarriage’ to someone who could not swing his ‘bat’ in the direction of a woman if he wanted to. He as well as Caitriona look like they swallowed a glass of sour milk when they are ‘forced’ to stand within 3 feet of each other. Then add in the list of ‘hot sexy girlfriend’s’ that supposedly shared Sam’s bed and you have a runaway locomotive that’s going to soon hit a brick wall. Sam’s calling Caitriona his ‘we are together AND we work together’ significant other to his ‘sister’ has caused this narrative to hit rock bottom. I really don’t think it can go any lower....but then I never thought Sam would call Caitriona, the mother of his children, his ‘sister’. I fully believe that all would have gone on as it’s always done....just beat the dead horse again and the ‘newbie’s’ will never know that it’s all a ‘shit show, UNTIL COVID19 hit the world with the Pandemic. Not only did it implode Hawaiigate, it’s now gotten into the Hollywood Hills with ‘social distancing’ guidelines. And we all know that Sex and Violence are the Hollywood $$$$$$$ makers. Put that into Outlander language, Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe, who play Jamie and Claire Fraser will NOT BE ALLOWED TO TOUCH, KISS, OR HAVE HOT SMOLDERING SEX WITHIN SEASON 6. OMG, and I thought Season 4 was bad...this will be the downfall of the series. Subscriptions with STARZ will cancel like flies on shit. If by chance they do produce a Season 6, the ratings would plummet. Who wants to watch Jamie and Claire have ‘fucking eye sex’, 6 feet from each other. Remember, no touching and you must wear a mask. UNLESS, THE TIME HAS FINALLY COME TO TEAR DOWN THAT WALL OF LIES, SAVE THE SERIES, SAM AND CAITRIONA ARE MARRIED! Because as a married couple, they can touch, kiss and have mind blowing sex within a scene....because “THEY ARE MARRIED”! What’s it going to be Parnell? Who IMO, has his balls wedged between a vice with the prospect of losing Sony/STARZ/LG’s top ‘cash cow’...are you willing to sacrifice the Outlander, Season 6 and possibly more? Or are you a smart businessman (cough, cough) and you and Hirsch will give your ‘ok’ to let the ‘Cait’ out of the bag and announce that Sam and Caitriona are married and have been since late 2015. The balls in your court Parnell....and for once, use your brains instead of your mini balls to make the right decision. I think your job and your career depend on it!

SEE ! Photographic proof!That’s Parnell standing right next to the Queen!

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/apr/07/conspiracy-theory-paranoia-aliens-illuminati-beyonce-vaccines-cliven-bundy-jfk

#samcait samand cait

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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years ago

Text

Problem-Solver || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader & Brian May x fem!Reader

summary || you thought that brian and roger would be able to share, but their jealousy starts to get the better of them. maybe having a friends-with-benefits arrangement with two guys who live in the same house was a bad idea.

rating || some heavily implied sexual content, but that’s all. plenty of talking about feelings, though.

word count || 4.7k

author’s notes || and finally, another instalment in the try series! although this can be read on its own. i do a lot of changing and shifting with timeline stuff as i edit, so if there’s so discrepancies in that regard, please let me know! it’s hard to keep track of it. this instalment is more of an exposition-y thing, but i liked writing it, and it needs to be posted for the upcoming instalments to make sense.

masterlist

“You’re what?”

You took a sip of wine, nodding. “Yeah.”

Veronica stared at you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Then she laughed, a high-pitched, disbelieving laugh. “You’re sleeping with both of them.”

“Yep.”

“Brian and Roger.”

“Uh-huh.”

Veronica laughed again. “I– How? I mean, I know how you and Brian… Well, I know that you and Brian were – doing that, but I found that out from Roger. Who told everyone because he was making fun of you.”

You hummed in thought, taking another sip of wine. “As if turns out, Roger was making fun of us because he was jealous.”

“And how on Earth did you find that out?”

“I slept with him.”

Veronica made a strangled sound of surprise, and then leant back on the couch, shaking her head. “I am… shocked. Absolutely shocked.”

“Are you, though?” you said.

Veronica’s eyes went even wider. “Yes, I’m shocked! You’re casually sleeping with two of your friends. Who live together.”

“That’s not that weird, is it?”

“It’s fairly unusual, yeah!” Veronica sighed heavily, and gulped her wine. You waited in silence, letting her process it.

She looked to you. “Do they know about it?”

“Does who know about it?”

“Does Brian know that you have this thing with Roger, and vice versa?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you said with a shrug. “It’d be ridiculous to try to hide it from them. Schedule clashes, y’know? Couldn’t exactly hide why I’m over at their place from the other person either. And anyway, the way I wound up sleeping with Roger in the first place is because Brian and I decided that I should try to. To find out if he… was jealous or not.”

“Blimey,” Veronica muttered into her wine, shaking her head. “Honestly, I find one boy is enough to keep me busy. I can’t imagine two.”

“Yeah, but Deaky’s your boyfriend, that’s different,” you said. “There isn’t that extra emotional stuff. I don’t have to worry about date night or meeting the parents or anything like that. It’s just casual sex.”

“How do you even have the time?”

“I figure it out somehow. And Brian and I do some of the same subjects, so he helps me study.” Not that all of those study sessions wind up being that productive, you thought to yourself with a smile.

“Well, is it going all right, then?” Veronica asked. “They’re not fighting over you?”

You sighed. “Uh… For the two weeks, it was fine, no problems. A bit of negotiation around who I see and when, but it settled down well enough by the second week. Then after that, things started getting a little… I don’t know.”

“Wait, how long has this been going on for?” Veronica interjected.

“Me and Brian?” you said. “About, um, almost six months? And Roger, a month-ish. Just under.”

“And you’re only just telling me?”

You pouted. “Yes, I know, I’m sorry.”

Veronica tutted. “Okay, well, go on.”

“They’re not… fighting over me,” you said. “It’s not that, like, territorial. Ugh. It’s more like they’re – I dunno – unsure? Like they don’t know how to deal with everything? I don’t know if they talk about any of it in private, but right now, when the three of us are in the same room together, even if other people are there, it feels like there’s this big, huge elephant in the room. I don’t expect them to talk about it or anything, but I’m just hoping it doesn’t become a bigger problem. I’m more than happy to discuss whatever they like, and we do these check-ins where we ask each other how we’re doing, like, emotionally and stuff, which Roger took some getting used to, honestly, but it’s always only in relation to each other and the friends-with-benefits arrangement. Not with anything else, you know? So Brian’s name wouldn’t come up in a check-in with Roger, for instance, because it’s more about what’s between me and Roger in that moment. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Veronica said slowly. “But what if Brian’s this sort of unspoken thing between you, and Roger just hasn’t said anything? Or the other way around?”

You frowned. “Usually we’re all pretty good with check-ins. I’ve never had reason to doubt their honesty before.”

“It’s not being dishonest, necessarily,” Veronica said. “Just… I don’t know. I’d be wary if the tension between them got any worse. Just be careful, okay?”

“I am being careful,” you said.

Veronica chewed on her bottom lip, staring at you with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

“What?” you said.

“Roger said that you, um… you and Brian – the whole ‘Daddy’ thing? Is that really true?”

“Ah,” you said, setting down your glass. “Well, um…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Veronica said quickly. “It’s just curiosity.”

You sighed. “Um, no, it’s true. It’s a little more complicated than that, but, uh, yeah, we do that sometimes.” You hesitated, and then added with a cheeky smile, “Turns out Roger was pretty jealous of that, too.”

“Oh my fucking…” Veronica said. She laughed. “You astound me.”

“Oh, why, thank you,” you said, picking up your glass again to gesture to her in thanks. “But this stays between you and me, all right? Don’t tell John about any of this. God forbid the boys find out that I’ve been gossiping about them behind their backs, and then they’ll be asking all these dumb questions like, ‘Did you tell her how big my dick is?’, ‘Did she tell you any whack, freaky shit about Deaky?’”

Veronica snorted. “No. John and I have tried a few things here and there, but I’m sure we’re as tame as can be in comparison to whatever wild shit you three get up to.”

“‘You three’,” you scoffed. “You make it sound like we’re all sleeping together at the same time. That is not happening.”

Veronica quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

It was moments like these that you could see why she and John were such a good match. “It isn’t, thank you, you snide cow,” you said, and Veronica giggled.

“Oh, we’ll see,” she said.

“Fuck off!” You shoved at her, and she cackled. “As if Brian and Roger would ever willingly see each other naked.”

“That’s your only barrier?” Veronica said. “Not the whole try-to-handle-two-guys-at-once thing? The fact that you don’t think they’d be down for it?”

You scoffed at her, pushing her knee, more lightly than before. “Stop twisting my words.”

“You still haven’t denied it.”

“Ronnie!” you exclaimed indignantly.

“Say no! Look me in the eye and say you’ve never thought about it.”

“Get fucked.”

“You can’t. You can’t do it. You’ve so thought about it.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and then, far too belatedly, said, “I have not.”

Veronica grinned at you. “And have you mentioned it to either Brian or Roger that this is on your mind?”

You gave her a look. “No! Of course I haven’t, are you mad?”

“It’s a fair question.”

You shook your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Me?” Veronica cried. “You’re the one with this whole… business!”

You clicked your tongue at her. “Can we drop this now?”

“You brought it up.”

“And now I’m ending it.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Yeah, well, what are you gonna do about it?”

She laughed, and curled her legs up against her chest. “Okay, gosh, message received. Can we watch this stupid movie now?”

“Yes, please,” you said, leaning forward and pressing the space bar on your laptop. The Kissing Booth began to play.

A few nights later, you had a small get-together at your place, just with Veronica, the boys, and a couple of uni friends. You didn’t want to say you’d jinxed anything in your conversation with Veronica, but it was hard not to think it when you noticed Roger and Brian getting increasingly testy with each other as the night went on. Every time you were alone for more than two seconds with one of them, the other would find an excuse to barge in. You weren’t even looking to hook up tonight, and they both knew it, but apparently, having a one-on-one conversation was too much to bear.

It was royally pissing you off.

Your other guests started to notice, too – especially Veronica, who kept giving you smug, knowing looks, which weren’t helping your increasingly sour mood.

But you let it slide for tonight. It wasn’t unusual for Brian and Roger to bicker, and, although you did seem to be the root cause of their fighting, you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, just this once.

The next week, it was your night with Roger. Wednesday nights were Veronica and John’s date night, Freddie had a class that went late and he always went to the pub with his classmates afterwards, and Brian had a study session. So you and Roger made use of the empty house, making out on the couch. Neither of you were in a hurry to escalate things at this point – Roger seemed far more invested in trying to find your most ticklish spot with his tongue, making you laugh.

“Oh, wait,” he gasped. “Can you lie down?”

“Flat?” you said, shifting into position, Roger standing up to give you room.

“Yeah. Like that.”

You gave him a look. “Okay. And?”

“I knew a girl once who had a really weird thing…” He held your hip, and began curiously prodding the flesh around your hipbone with his thumb.

“What weird thing?”

“She was really ticklish, like, here?” He pressed his thumb hard into you, and you yelped far too loudly, batting his arm away.

Roger laughed. “You’re ticklish there too!”

“I – I never knew,” you said, laughing, but deeply confused. “Wait, do it again.”

He did, and, sure enough, your nerves went wild, and you squeaked. “Oh, whoa,” you said, looking down at your hip with wide eyes. “That’s so weird.”

“I know, right?” Roger said. He grinned, waggling his eyebrows, and knelt on the couch, slotting his knee between your thighs. “Can crack that one open later.”

“Sure, if you want to take me completely out of the mood,” you said dryly.

“Tickling can be sexy, can’t it?”

“Not to me. Why, do you find it sexy?”

“If I can watch you and another equally hot woman to tickle each other while in your underwear, sure.”

You slapped his thigh. “Arsehole.”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Roger said. “I don’t mind it sometimes, but I can’t say it really gets me going, personally.”

“So we agree.”

Roger hummed, and lent forward, hovering above you, the conversation clearly already forgotten. “Do you ever get tied to the bed?”

“Yeah, all the time.”

“And we haven’t tried it yet?” Roger shook his head. “Despicable.”

“Have you ever been tied to the bed?”

Roger’s eyes went dark, and he sucked in a breath. “No.”

You bit your lip, slipping your hands under his shirt. “Well.”

Roger hummed again, a thoughtful noise, and leant down to kiss you softly.

You were just getting lost in the kiss when there was the sound of keys in the door. You and Roger barely had time to react, scrambling away from each other, when the door slammed open, and Brian strode in.

“Oh,” he said, far too casually for how aggressively he’d opened the door. “Hey, guys.”

You sighed in relief. You didn’t really ever want to get caught in a situation where you’d have to explain your arrangements to Freddie or John. That being said, you weren’t all too pleased about interrupted, either.

Brian gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Forgot you two, uh… Forgot it was your night.” He closed the door firmly behind him, and tossed his keys onto the kitchen table. They clattered against the wood.

Roger cleared his throat. “Well, yeah, it’s our night, so.”

“Yep.”

“So you’re heading out again soon, I assume.”

“Uh.” Brian cocked his head, thinking. “Mm, nope, don’t think so.” He seemed a little out of breath, like he’d hurried home.

“Well, that’s fine with me,” Roger said sharply, reaching for you. “We’ll just continue where we left off. You don’t mind, Brian, do you?”

“Rog,” you said lowly. “Let’s go to your room, yeah?”

Roger seemed all too happy to give you his attention, although it seemed a little too attentive to be entirely natural. “Sure, sweetheart, whatever you like.”

You both got to your feet, and Roger took your hand and started leading you to his room.

You could feel Brian’s heavy gaze on the both of you, but, luckily, he stayed silent.

On Friday, it was your night with Brian. You should have guessed that a similar event would have happened as on Wednesday, but it didn’t occur to you until Roger kicked the door open, his arms loaded with a twenty-four pack of beer. “Hey guys,” he said amicably. “Sorry, I assumed you’d be in Brian’s room by now. Taking your time tonight, are we, Brian?”

As it was, you and Brian were sitting on the couch, just chatting. You liked to play with Brian’s hands on nights like these, liked to see Brian’s eyes drink in your face. Liked to let the tension build.

But the tension was gone now, like a burst balloon.

A dark cloud swept over Brian’s face. “Fuck off, will you?” he said to Roger.

“Just making conversation, mate.” Roger set the case down on the table. “Either of you want a beer?”

Brian sighed, and turned to Roger. “Can you just bloody leave us alone?”

Roger raised his eyebrows. “Oh, sorry, it’s all right when you do it…”

“I’ll have a beer,” you cut in sharply.

Brian gave you a quizzical look, and it gave you an idea.

Maybe it was time to nip this whole stupid thing in the bud. “Actually, Roger, why don’t you join us?” you said.

Roger paused, taken aback. “Huh?”

“What are you doing?” Brian whispered.

“Yeah, come on,” you said, waving Roger over. “Grab us a couple beers.”

Roger’s gaze flicked between you and Brian, and then he said, “Um. Ye– All right, yeah.” He tore open the case and grabbed three cans.

He sat down on the single couch, and handed out the beers.

You cracked yours open and took a big gulp. “Cheers,” you said, licking your lips. Your heart was hammering away with nerves – you didn’t quite know why you were so nervous, but perhaps it was the prospect of a big argument breaking out – and you took another drink to calm yourself.

Neither Brian nor Roger had opened their drinks, staring at you unsurely.

“Well, go on, then,” you urged them, and, mechanically, they both opened their beers and started drinking.

“So,” you said with a contented sigh, “how was your day, Rog?”

The boys slowly warmed up to the idea of just sitting and having a drink and a chat. You could still feel Brian’s frowns on your face – he probably felt a little cheated out of the evening that he’d pictured – but you were able to ignore it well enough.

The beer helped lubricate the conversation.

After an hour, you wondered if you could genuinely get away with avoiding a big talk about everything. Maybe Roger and Brian were fine. They seemed to be getting along perfectly well now. Maybe they’d just been having a rough time, or maybe they’d been in disagreement about something else and that was leaking into their arrangements with you, maybe–

“So what kind of stuff have you two done?” Roger said, gesturing between you and Brian with his beer. “Y’know, the weird freaky shit?”

You swallowed an exasperated groan.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, actually,” Brian said tersely.

“Nah, come on. We’ve done so much already, haven’t we? And it’s only been a month.”

“Roger,” Brian sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “we have clearly done far more than you two would have done. By far. It’s not even a competition.”

“You’ve just been fucking for longer,” Roger said. “Doesn’t count. You have to go from the first month. No, the three weeks, even. Just the first three weeks.”

“I can’t remember all the stuff we did in the first three weeks,” Brian said. “It was so long ago. Because we’ve been fucking for so long.”

“I bet, in the three weeks we’ve been fucking, we’ve done just as much as you have in your five months of fucking.”

“God,” you muttered into your drink.

“Six, actually,” Brian said. “And I bet you haven’t.”

“I bet we have.”

“Bet she hasn’t fucked you up the arse yet.”

Roger’s mouth fell open. “She what?”

You gave Brian a bewildered look. “Brian!”

“With a strap-on,” Brian said proudly.

Roger turned to you, a look of betrayal on his face. “Why haven’t you fucked me up the arse yet?” he protested. “I’d be so good at it, I promise.”

Jesus Christ. “I di– I haven’t fucked anyone up the arse, thank you,” you said, shooting a pointed look to Brian. “Brian’s just lying.”

“I’m not lying,” Brian said.

“She just said she hasn’t fucked you up the arse when you said she did,” Roger said.

“We’ve talked about it,” Brian said. “Right? We’ve talked about it.”

“We… Well, yes, we have,” you muttered. “But that’s very different to actually doing it.”

“Have to talked about it with Roger?”

“Maybe,” Roger jumped in. “We– We might’ve. Maybe? Have we? I think we have.”

“Can we stop?” you said. “Please? This is already weird and uncomfortable.”

“I can’t believe you,” Roger shot at Brian. “You’ve made her uncomfortable.”

“She wasn’t talking about me, clearly,” Brian said.

“And can you both stop talking about me as if I’m not here?” you snapped. “‘She’ the cat’s fucking mother.”

The boys fell silent.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Of course there are going to be – differences. Between my… relationship with you, Brian, and my relationship with you, Roger. It wouldn’t make any sense if they were the same, because you two are not the same, and how I – how I interact with you and… what makes me feel – makes us feel happy and comfortable and all that good stuff is different for each of you. With each of you. You’re not in contest with each other, all right?”

Brian and Roger glanced at each other.

“I can’t believe I even have to spell this out for you,” you added, and, oh dear, here comes the big talk. “I thought it would be – manageable, at least, to have this sort of relationship with the two of you, because I thought you both would be mature enough to handle it. Honestly, my only thoughts were how you both – how we all would deal with the risk of getting in too deep, emotionally, rather than you two squaring off like– like some kind of animal. Like…” You shook your head. “Whatever… Whatever male animals fight each other in the wild. Moose. Do male moose fight each other?”

You looked to them, and they stared blankly at you.

It took them a second to realise they expected an answer, and they both spoke at the same time.

“I– I dunno,” Roger said.

“Yes, they do,” Brian said.

“You’re like a pair of… mooses. Mooses?”

“Moose,” Brian supplied. “You just said it before.”

“Whatever.” You sat back on the couch, and raised your eyebrows at the boys. “Honestly, right now, I’m struggling to understand why I could be bothered to deal with any of this. We’ve had a good run, right? Maybe it’s time we all let this go.”

Brian and Roger spoke at the same time again.

“Whoa, hey, let’s not…”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

You shrugged. “Friends-with-benefits are temporary, anyway. We all knew that going into this. Maybe I want to start looking for an actual partner, y’know? Actually date someone.”

“But do you?” Brian said. “Or are you just tired to us fighting?”

You chewed on your bottom lip.

If nothing else, he could read you like a book.

“If that’s really what you want,” Roger said carefully, “then we’ll respect that–”

“Of course,” Brian said, nodding emphatically.

“–but, I don’t know, we haven’t even tried talking it out.”

“This is starting to sound awfully like an actual relationship,” you muttered.

“But it’s not,” Roger said. “Because I… We don’t…” He looked to Brian, lost.

Brian watched you with soft eyes. “Check-in,” he murmured.

You matched his gaze, and sighed. “Honestly? No, I don’t have feelings for you, and I never have. Same with you, Rog. But I don’t know if I’m entirely happy with how things are right now. It’s been more stress than I want, or need.”

Brian nodded once. “Okay,” he said. “I don’t have feelings for you, either. But I care about you deeply. You’re one of my closest friends, and I really enjoy the time we spend together. No matter what we’re doing. And…” He took a breath. “And I admit that I have been feeling jealous of Roger lately. Irrationally so. I think part of me thought that you started your arrangement with Roger because you were growing bored of me, or I wasn’t good enough in some way, and instead of talking to me about it, you’d decided to start sleeping with my flatmate. To…” He swallowed, dropping his gaze to his hands in his lap. “To annoy me, maybe. Even though I know – I know that’s something you wouldn’t do, because you care about me, and you’ve been extremely open with your feelings since day one, which is something I respect. A lot.”

Veronica had hit the nail on the head, it seemed. “How long have you been feeling like that?” you asked.

Brian hesitated. “A while. Not at first, but maybe after a week or so.”

“So during our check-ins, you were, what, lying? About how you were feeling?”

“I wasn’t… lying,” Brian said. “I just wasn’t saying the whole truth. And I’m sorry. That wasn’t right, or fair, and it wasn’t respecting our rules, I understand that.”

You sighed, thinking this over. Your eyes flicked to Roger. “Rog?” you said. “What about you?”

Roger drummed a frantic beat on his knees. “Uh…” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s– I’ve been jealous of Brian. I know how much history you two have, and I – I think I wanted that, maybe? Or felt like I had to live up to it somehow? I… I guess I just felt that I’d never be able to compete with that, so you’d ditch me soon enough. Guess I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that what we have is so different from what you and him have.” He rubbed the back his neck. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded to yourself, then took a drink. You swallowed, felt it slide down your throat, a faint coolness brushing down the centre of your chest. You could feel two pairs of eyes watching you, like skittish horses eyeing up a snake.

You set the can down on the coffee table, and then said, “Okay. Well. At least we’re all being honest now. About fucking time.”

“So… what’s next?” Roger said.

You thought for a moment. “I’m not sure,” you admitted. “But I think you two should apologise to each other, for starters.”

Roger and Brian looked to each other, and then away, both muttering apologies.

“Properly,” you said. “Haven’t you two ever apologised to each other before?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Brian said.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jesus, that explains a lot.” You nodded towards them. “Go on, then. Kiss and make up.”

They met each other’s eyes. “Sorry,” Brian said.

“Sorry too,” Roger said.

They looked to you.

You stared back. “Don’t look at me,” you said bluntly. “What am I, your mother?”

Roger sighed, and turned to Brian again. “I’m sorry for being a prick,” he said. “I was acting out when I should’ve – talked about how I was feeling. You’re my mate, and you’re all right most of the time, and it wasn’t right of me. So I’m sorry.”

Brian’s face softened. “I’m sorry too,” he said, and he sounded so sincere that you saw a blush of embarrassment crawl up Roger’s neck.

Good Lord, they truly hadn’t ever properly apologised to each other.

“I was being just as much of a prick as you,” Brian continued. “I wasn’t thinking about how you would’ve been feeling in this situation, and that was shitty of me. I should’ve talked about it, too. And I’m sorry that it’s taken someone else’s intervention for us to actually properly apologise to each other for the first time literally the whole time we’ve been friends.”

“Yeah,” Roger said with a chuckle. “We should… We should work on that.”

“Yeah, probably,” Brian said.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Feels gross, actually,” Roger said, screwing up his nose, and you laughed.

“It does feel… It feels good,” Brian said. He patted Roger on the knee, slightly awkwardly. “I… I care about you, Rog,” he said. “You’re a good mate, and I’m lucky to have you around.”

“Oh, shut up,” Roger said. “Bloody sentimental old man.”

Brian laughed.

It was time to help lighten the mood. “Now kiss and make up.”

“We just did,” Brian said.

You waggled your eyebrows. “No,” you said slowly, “kiss and make up.”

Both boys took a moment to understand your meaning, and then they broke out into spluttering and stuttering, leaning as far away from each other as they could, shaking their heads dramatically, both of their faces turning red.

“I’m joking!” you exclaimed. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Jeez. Sorry for making such an offensive suggestion.”

“It’s not offensive,” Brian said. “It’s just–”

“Weird and disgusting,” Roger said. He looked to Brian. “No offence, mate. You’re just not my type.”

“Oh, none taken,” Brian said. He shook his head at you. “You’re filthy.”

Your mouth fell open as Roger laughed. “Brian! I was just making a joke, you pig!”

“I knew you were into some weird shit, but watching your two male friends kiss each other…”

“I was joking.” Aw, fuck. You’d really walked right into this one.

“This is what you were leading up to the whole time, weren’t you?” Roger said. “I knew it. You couldn’t help yourself. Brian and I are just too bloody delicious for you to resist.”

Brian burst out laughing. “Eugh, don’t call me delicious!”

“I’m not calling you that, I’m saying that–”

“You just called me that!”

“I called us both that, Brian, I didn’t just sit here and call you delicious.”

“That’s what you did!”

“I di– We’re on the same side here, you fucking bastard!”

You were laughing, hard, but the tense ball of anxiety had just relaxed in the pit of your stomach, and the beer was starting to get to your head, so you couldn’t help it if you laughed a bit more than the banter really warranted.

sorry we didn’t really have the night u were expecting, you texted Brian the next day. did u want to make up for it?

It’s all right, he replied an hour later. It was a night that needed to happen. And I always like spending time with you, so I count it as a night well spent, regardless.

You smiled to yourself. i think it needed to happen too. i’m glad it did. can u two legit talk about shit if it starts getting in the way again? please?

Yes. I’m sorry you had to do that.

it’s fine, I just don’t want to have to make a habit of it ok?

I completely understand. But thank you, anyway.

it’s ok.

You went to put your phone away, but then it buzzed once more.

Not to go back on what I just said, but can I show you how grateful I am? Brian had texted. Or perhaps tell you over the phone tonight?

A thrill bubbled through you. I think I can make time for that.

I’m glad to hear it. I’ll text you later.

You grinned, and pocketed your phone.

#try verse #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #rpf #mine

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