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taylorroger-s · 5 years ago

Text

heartsick.

a/n my first (kinda) deaky fic!! IT’S A LOVE TRIANGLE LADS!!! i just kinda needed to write this? it has been a work in progress since february and i haven’t found the push to finish it until recently when i looked through my google docs and started finishing some wips. this is wild as hell man. kinda sad i cut it off right before THAT japan trip tho… part two anyone??

masterlist here!

people who asked to be tagged: @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @johndeaconsgf @cowparsleys

warnings : angst, curse words, some partying, briefest suggestion of infidelity, the whole shebang. 9.1k words baby

enjoy :)

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john had always loved your smile. the way your eyes crinkled at the edges and your dimples showed. the hint of white teeth behind your plush lips. he would walk heaven and earth just to make you happy.

now you were smiling that beautiful smile, but it wasn’t for him. it was for your newly minted fiancé.

you had met john the first day of secondary school. you were placed in the same french class, seated diagonal to him. the first time you heard his voice was about an hour into the lesson when the teacher said something you couldn’t remember, and deaky muttered a dirty comment. you snorted out of laughter, drawing his attention. when your eyes met his, john knew he was a goner.

from that day onward, the two of you were ingrained in each other’s lives. from birthdays to holidays, sickness and health, he was there for you as you were for him. it took it an almost ridiculous amount of time for him to realize his feelings for you.

the kicker was that he couldn’t tell if you felt the same. you were almost inhumanly hard to read, with a devilish grin and sharp wit. you treated most with the same cool attitude, same suave confidence that drove him insane. it didn’t help that you were also devastatingly attractive.

every time you showed interest in him his heart would race and cheeks flush, stumbling over his words to find a response somehow as witty as you. you were unafraid of eye contact, able to make deaky crazy with just a smirk and eyebrow raise.

for years, john had convinced himself that you were harboring feelings for him just as he was for you. it might have been true, you were always quite affectionate towards him and particular, giving you an unproportional amount of attention when around other people. but sometimes that would flip, and you would ignore him all together for hours. that didn’t stop him from twisting each bit of witty banter into a sign that you were in to him. only you knew your true feelings, but that didn’t stop deaky from speculating. from what he could tell, you were also horribly oblivious and most likely didn’t have a single inkling of his feelings.

despite this, your friendship was still good and sincere. john could put away his feelings to keep that alive, tiptoeing around the idea of being something more.

through either a strain of luck or misfortune you ended up going to the same university, growing even closer through shared classes and drunken nights. by then, deaky’s feelings had only intensified, while yours stayed a closely guarded secret. who knows? maybe you did have feelings for him. you sure as hell wouldn’t admit anything, and neither would john. so the two of you stayed in that limbo for ages.

until john joined queen. your world and, by association, his flipped upside down because of a certain blond haired drummer.

his first official queen gig. july 2nd, 1971. it was a college gig in surrey, and the first time deaky introduced you to his bandmates. he had joined the band in february of that year, but hadn’t let you meet his new bandmates quite yet. when the day finally came, you dressed up much more than you would for a typical rock concert. when you rolled up to deaky’s flat, john swore that his jaw hit the floor.

distressed leather jacket and tight black skinny jeans, with a low cut, patterned tank top. you wore high heeled, stained white combat books and silver stud earrings. your smoked out eyeliner just added to your addicting mystique, as did your blood red lipstick. compared to you, deaky looked like a broke college student, which he was. you looked even more like a rockstar than he did. john could barely believe his luck when you ran up and gave him a big hug, confessing how excited you were for him. it assured deaky that you were still his.

right?

you chatted excitedly during the ride about one of your various passions while he stayed quiet. it wasn’t like he was bored, quite the opposite actually. deaky could listen to you talk for hours and hours. he adored the way your voice changed pitch as you got more excited, the way you acted out your thoughts animatedly with your hands, and that goddamn smile you would offer him after pausing for breath. your eyes would show that rare glimmer of emotion. and it was all for him.

once you reached the venue, john was having second thoughts. he didn’t want to share you with everyone, which he was embarrassed to admit. he knew that the magnetic nature of his bandmates would draw you away from him, which was almost debilitatingly terrifying. he wouldn’t be able to stand growing apart from you. so he devised a small scheme to hold off the inevitable.

“hey y/n? how about you stay out here. i can meet you backstage after. i think it would be better to experience it from the crowd.” your face fell slightly. you were excited to be part of the behind the scenes experience of a rock band, it was one of the few things you had yet to do. but you understood his concern. it made your heart flutter just a bit. you gave him a quick embrace and kiss on the cheek before going off to find some alcohol.

he breathed a sigh of relief as he watched you weave your way in between the crowd. he still had you to himself, even if it was just until the end of the gig. shoving down his feelings, deaky made his way to the backstage space where his bandmates were lounging around, going through their pre-show rituals.

roger was sitting on a drum case, a cigarette hanging precariously from his lips. his thin fingers tapped away on his thighs, cycling through the drum patterns he had memorized. brian sipped from a half empty beer bottle, eyes trained on the ceiling. freddie was hunched over a mirror, fluffing his hair with a frown on his face.

freddie turned to john, looking at his outfit with lips twisted in a look of disapproval. freddie was dressed quite extravagantly, while deaky had opted for a simple t-shirt and jeans.

“dear god deaky, what are you wearing?” john frowned, looking down at his outfit and then back up to freddie.

“uhh, clothes?”

“oh no, that won’t do.” he shook his shoulder length curls, waving a black nailed hand at deaky’s gig attire.

“please tell me why it won’t.”

“it’s so… plain. we’re queen for god’s sake! we have to look the part!” freddie waved his hands dramatically, showing off his tight leather jumpsuit, one leg in white and the other in black. his dark eyes were lined with smoky eyeliner, making his strong features pop even more. deaky just had his hair brushed, wearing a ‘the who’ shirt and bell bottoms.

john had to admit, he looked quite plain compared to the rest of the band. brian was wearing a sequined black top with batwing sleeves, and tight leather trousers. roger opted for an open floral blazer, with zebra stripe patterned trousers for no discernible reason. john looked more like a concert goer than a rockstar. but he wasn’t about to back down.

“i’m alright with the plain then.”

“one day… i will change your mind, mark my words.” freddie said with a mischievous grin. john just rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile. though he had only been a part of the group for a few months, they already felt like brothers to him.

deaky walked over to his bass, resting it on his lap. he absentmindedly plucked away to a random beat, letting the music cycle through him and calm him down. his eyes fluttered shut. he fell back on a memory to soothe his nerves. he thought of you, sitting with your head on his shoulder as he strummed softly on his bass. he could almost feel your hair tickling his cheek as you shifted to sit up and look at him.

“that’s beautiful.” you had said, toying with the ends of deaky’s long hair. your chin was rested on his shoulder, nose just barely touching his jawline.

“think it has potential.” your closeness drowned out any rational thought he could scrape up, but each brush of your skin against his brought him back to earth. you were a drug that sent him reeling with his head in the clouds, heart pounding at every sly look and smile. he was far, far gone for you.

“that’s some grade a bullshit john.” you pulled his hand from the bass and laced your fingers with his, tracing small circles on the back of his palm. that was his favorite memory of you. you were so relaxed and peaceful, which made him feel the same. it was always the last thing he thought of before he ever had to confront a crowd.

“you alright deaks?” roger asked, pulling john back from his memory into the gritty reality of the cramped backstage in that tiny pub. he nodded, taking off the strap of the bass and resting it against the arm of his chair. roger offered him his cigarette and deaky gave him a gracious smile, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out through his mouth and nose. after a couple more puffs, they got the signal that it was time. john took one last pull before stubbing the cigarette out and picking up his bass. here goes nothing.

the small main room was packed, people standing shoulder to shoulder to watch them play. it was flat out electrifying. they cheered raucously as brian strummed the opening note of liar, freddie joining with vocals not long after. john scrunched his eyebrows in concentration during his solo, skilled fingers rapidly plucking away at the four strings of his bass guitar. after his part ended, he looked up, searching the crowd for you.

after just a moment, he caught a glimpse of you near the center of the crowd, dancing and singing along wildly. your face almost immediately brightened when you caught him watching, and you shot him a bright smile with some enthusiastic thumbs up. it made john’s heart swell, and he returned your smile. soon freddie’s iconic line “mama i’m gonna be your slave” and deaky rushed to his side to sing the “all day long” line.

every time he sang, he locked eyes with you, which gave him just enough confidence to sing in front of the crowd, especially since he had always considered himself a bad singer. you had always vehemently disagreed, saying that you absolutely loved john’s singing voice, but he couldn’t really tell if you were humoring him or not. for the record, you weren’t.

but only one song later, when john had nothing to play, he looked back at you, hoping to see you smile one more time. but you weren’t focused on him. you were focused on the drummer right behind him. deaky whipped his head around, stomach twisting when he saw the look in roger’s eyes. one that he had seen during practices whenever he would bring along a groupie. a lustful, dangerous look now aimed entirely at you from across the cramped stage, you being barely close enough for roger to see you with full clarity (he had atrocious eyesight). and you seemed to be returning his coy smile, even grinning and breaking his gaze when roger gave you a cheeky wink. john was so busy looking between the two of you that he almost missed his cue. this was going to be a long evening.

the rest of the show passed in a blur, one filled with sly glances and flirtatious gestures from across the room. but they weren’t for john, on the contrary. they were all for roger, who you were basically eye-fucking from the crowd. and he was certainly enjoying it. deaky was decidedly not. he could feel the regret pooling in his gut. you were just too irresistible to deny, and when you begged to go to his first gig, he couldn’t say no.

but now you were completely enamored by that blond casanova, one of john’s closest friends. that was when he knew that it was the beginning of the end. he could feel you slipping through his fingers. and it was absolutely terrifying. you had been by his side for so long, that a world without you next to him was unfathomable.

after the show, you came straight to deaky, almost jumping into his arms. he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, placing a hand on the back of your head to hold you close. that was the same position you had been in after your highschool boyfriend broke your heart, or when your grandma died. deaky had held you close and let you weep into his jacket, whispering soothing words.

“deaks! you did so amazing!” you pulled back a little, placing a hand on his cheek. he melted into your touch, consciously aware of the goofy grin he must be sporting. you had such an intoxicating effect on him.

“i’m very proud of you, don’t you forget it.” your thumb slowly moved back and forth across the skin of his cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in your wake. john pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your back. he wanted to drink in that moment for as long as possible. but he felt you start to back up, and he knew exactly why. because over his shoulder came a cloud of cigarette smoke and expensive shampoo fragrance, and john let you go, even though it felt like you were being ripped away instead.

roger clapped john on the back, startling him. deaky looked over his shoulder and saw roger looking you up and down with a dangerous look in his eyes. he glanced between the two of you for a few moments, heart rate steadily increasing as time went on.

“you must be y/n, i’m roger, the drummer.” he took your hand, raised it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your palm. you were frozen in shock for a moment before responding.

“nice to meet you roger.”

“so you’re not a myth?”

“what’s that’s supposed to mean hm?”

“well, john always talks about you like you are some sort of goddess. we didn’t believe him for a long while, but now that you’re standing here? he certainly wasn’t exaggerating.” roger looked you up and down, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. you smiled, genuinely smiled at his words. john had never seen you so instantly smitten. roger had you, you of all people, in the palm of his hand.

“well aren’t you a flatterer.” you gave him a sly smile, giving roger a quick once over and a cocky eyebrow raise. deaky felt his heart crack just a little more. the two of you were so charismatic and confident that it was almost unfair. two people that bewitching should be forbidden from flirting with each other, in john’s opinion.

“only with gorgeous women.” john’s stomach flipped and churned, and he felt lightheaded. seeing you so clearly enamored with his best friend sent deaky reeling. he and roger had always had a special connection being the two youngest members of queen. they were extremely close, and roger was john’s best friend second only to you. john couldn’t imagine having both you and roger separate from him. it would break his heart.

while deaky was silently spiraling, roger had taken a step closer to you, nudging john just a little bit further away. as if he was no longer inhabiting his body, john took another step back, though every cell in his body was screaming to take you by the hand and head to his flat for one of your impromptu movie nights. but it was too late, even though john had yet to accept it.

after a few more minutes of lip bites and silver-tongued words, freddie waltzed over, announced there was an after party at the nearby pub, and pulled john to his side for the walk, leaving you next to roger. the door swung open as the small posse walked out, high on post-show adrenaline. john was standing in front of you, harnessing all of his willpower that wasn’t swept away by the cool summer night to not look over his shoulder, because he knew he wouldn’t like what he saw.

from what he could hear over freddie’s rapid story about some debaucherous party in his uni days, you and roger were pulling each other in ever so slightly as the seconds passed. every time he heard your airy laughter deaky could practically see the gorgeous smile that would adorn your features, the way your eyes would crinkle at the edges as the conversation drew on.

soon enough, they reached the pub, all primed and ready to get drunk in celebration of their first queen gig together. that would surely take the edge off of john’s steadily growing headache at roger and yours closeness. when he turned around, what he saw made him want to down at least three tequila shots to purge it from his mind.

you were bundled up in roger’s plush fur coat, despite the mild temperature. his arm was slung dangerously low across your back, nimble fingers tracing circles along your hip bone as you strode through the pub’s creaky wooden doors. you were laughing at something he said, a painted nail trailing down his chest. it was almost like no one was in the room.

what really hurt deaky’s heart was your myriad of traditions the two of you shared on every night out ever since his eighteenth birthday, that you had decided to ignore. one shot of cheap tequila, then a gin and tonic for the both of you. but while john was walking toward you with two shot glasses in hand, you were leaning into roger heavily while he whispered something in your ear, a glass of whiskey and a cigarette in one of his hands, the other on your thigh.

before you could see the hurt in his eyes, john turned, downed the shots, and walked towards the dance floor, determined to forget your awe-struck eyes as you looked up at roger. and it was just his luck that the song playing was “how deep is your love” one of your’s and deaky’s favorite songs to dance together. yet by some cruel twist of fate, he was alone, shuffling to the beat while stealing brief glances at you whenever possible.

two gin and tonics later, he had nearly forgotten about you and roger just across the bar as he bobbed his head to the music, sipping his drink every now and then. he was so distracted by the music that he barely noticed a tug on his long wavy hair, a habit you had picked up to draw his attention since he was a good few inches taller than you. it was clear to see you were a little tipsy by how heavily you were leaning against the bar, one hand gripping deaky’s bicep.

“deaks, i’m gonna head. it was a long night, and i really need some… rest. but i can’t tell you enough how proud i am of you okay? you are an amazing best friend and i am so happy for you. good night johnny-boy.” your words were a little too airy for his liking, and as he bid you goodbye, he could see why.

wrapped in rogers fur coat, you smiled as the drummer whispered something in your ear. john nearly dropped his drink, but instead stood back and stared as you left the bar under roger's spell. he could feel you slipping away, into the embrace of his best friend and bandmate.

that was the beginning of the end.

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“whatcha thinkin bout deaks?”

“huh?” john mumbled, eyes closed as your fingers slipped in between his wavy hair, forming a long braid against his back. he always loved when you played with his hair. it calmed him down immensely, which was desperately needed. he had tried to ignore that you were at queen’s recording sessions more often than not, cooly ignoring him- or at least in john’s mind - in favor of watching roger.

he could only hold on to the sick, twisted hope that you would see roger’s youthful promiscuity and let him go, sending things back to how it was before. but john was kidding himself. it felt like he had been from the start.

“you seem a little… distracted,” you mused, resting your head on his shoulder as your gaze shifted to the quiet tv program inching by on your beat up box telly. there was a stillness in the air, sharp and cool, sticking to your skin.

“‘m busy, that’s all. band is getting more popular, starting ideas for an album,” he murmured after a minute or two, placing his head against yours as an olive branch to break the alien tension surrounding the room. john couldn’t get the image of you in roger’s coat from his eyes, a smile he knew so well etched on your lips.

“that’s amazing john. i am not kidding when i say queen might be the greatest band ever conceived.” he just laughed, nudging your shoulder playfully. the same old pattern reborn once more.

“even more than the bee gees? marvin gaye?”

“okay, maybe not gaye,”

“you wound me, love.” you just smiled, slowly untangling yourself from the pile of blankets, tip-toeing over to the record player tucked in your bookshelf. john shifted to watch as you flipped through the impressive vinyl collection filling the empty shelves. you quickly turned once the needle was gently placed on your chosen song, holding out a hand to deaky with an eyebrow raised. after a few seconds, the song started playing, and john matched your soft smile.

listen baby, ain’t no mountain high

ain’t no valley low, ain’t no river wide enough baby

he pulled you gently into his arms, with one hand in the center of your back, the other gripping yours so tightly as if he was holding on for dear life. you either didn’t notice his desperate hold or declined to mention it. you just kept on whispering the words, slowly swaying back and forth to the relaxed beginning of the song.

‘cause baby there ain’t no mountain high enough

ain’t no valley low enough

john drew back, twirling you along with the rising tempo. your smile only grew, growing more goofy as your dancing continued. he could barely register the music, focused solely on the feel of your warm hand against his, the sweet scent you carried everywhere you went. you giggled at his dance moves, mirroring the exaggerated slow dance

ain’t no river wide enough

to keep me from getting to you babe

without warning, john dipped you, fingers intertwined. a beat passed as he simply looked at you, eyes scanning your face hungrily as if he would never see you again. you were so close, his warm breath tickled your cheek. your heart skipped a beat, and he could only hold tight as the song spiraled to its end. you cleared your throat and flicked your gaze from him to the record player. getting the hint, he slowly, deliberately lifted you back up onto steady feet.

deaky watched as you hurried to the record player. he could feel his stomach drop to his feet at your quick change in posture. did he make a mistake? did he overstep his boundaries? with each hypothetical his doubt and anxiety rose, rooted to one spot, incapable of moving while your back was turned. you cleared your throat, head lifting with you still facing the records.

“you should…”

“yeah, see you later then?”

“goodnight johnny-boy”

“goodnight”

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deaky was on his knees in the crowded backstage, various screws and wires around him as his deft fingers worked on adjusting his amp, making sure that everything was just right for the last show of their very first american tour. there were supposed to be more, but brian contracted hepatitis so the tour was cut short.

may eleventh, 1974, just under three years after john’s first queen gig, and your first time meeting the band. meeting roger. things had continued as he had expected. you at every gig, on rogers arm whenever free, often disappearing and returned some time later looking noticeably disheveled. time had made the pain less sharp, but the ache was still there. the ache for you to be by his side instead of roger’s.

john missed being close to you. they were across the atlantic ocean, muscling through long rehearsals and, as the evening before played out, two gigs in one day. in his distraction, a sharp edge scraped his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood that glistened under the lights. he muttered a soft curse, considering wiping the blood on his pants before hearing freddie’s voice in his head. “go change deaky, we can’t have you drawing too much attention!” john smiled to himself at the thought, winding his way through the faceless crew, searching for the dressing room. once he reached the door and reached for the handle, a noise came from the door that caused him to draw back his hand as if the handle was a thousand degrees.

it was a name. roger’s name. high and giggly, and certainly not in your voice. deaky wanted to throw up. he knew it. roger was like a brother to him but he couldn’t shake the wave of anger that coursed through his veins. john expected this to happen, though he knew it was wrong- so very wrong- to think the worst of his bandmate. your tear stained face filled his mind’s eye, bringing with it crippling waves of guilt. he didn’t want to get involved, it was your business. but goddammit john wanted you to see the truth.

his internal debate was cut short when you rounded the corner, absolutely stopping any brain activity in its tracks. you weren’t supposed to be there. they were in new york for god sakes, and you weren’t supposed to be there. his internal monologue snapped back into action, keenly aware of the activities most likely occurring behind that closed door.

“deaks!!! i’ve missed you! how has america been?” john barely registered the action as you threw your arms around him, squeezing him tight. every muscle in his body was tense with anger, guilt, sadness, that squishy feeling your presence always brought him. you loosened your grip after noticing his lack of reciprocation, but john quickly moved to pull you close, burying his face in your hair.

“missed you too love.” you drew back, bright smile on your face. but your focus was clearly no longer on john, eyes scanning the hallway behind him for a certain someone. a certain someone who deaky suspected wasn’t being as faithful as you.

“hey where’s rog?”

“he’s uhh… look, love, i think he might be with someone else right now. through that door. i’m so sorry. i’m here for you.” he had to force the words out. they scorched his tongue and hung in the air like thick, harsh smog. his heart dropped as your eyes widened, hands coming up to cover your mouth. some sick part of john was almost joyful at the prospect of your relationship with roger ending. you would certainly come to him for comfort, you would hang out more, and then his highschool fantasy would finally play out.

right?

“are you… but… john…” the way your voice wavered hammered a crack in his heart. a sharp stinging picked at his guilty cheer, slowly dragging him down to earth. this wasn’t anything to be excited about.

“i’m so sorry love.” deaky stepped forward, arms open to embrace you, but your hand went up to stop him. your other hand was clutched tight to your chest. it was dead silent in your small section of the corridor, save for your irregular breaths and deaky’s heavy ones. your gaze was focused on the crack at the bottom of the door, breath hitching as your bright eyes followed another shadow. there weren't many words he could discern through the dressing room door, but that uncertainty only made the doubt worse. what could have caused the sudden quiet?

“don’t. i need to see him. right. now.” your spine straightened and you held your chin high. though you still sounded shaky, john could tell that your temper was about to boil over.

“alright, i’m right here if you need me. that menace doesn’t know what you can do.” he watched your expression as you took a shuddering breath, slowly lifting your eyes from the floor. tears clung to the corners of your lashes, stubbornly refusing to fall. deaky reached out a tentative hand, and you waited a moment before taking it. your shoulders relaxed as his fingers intertwined with yours, and john felt his heart swell just a little. maybe there was hope for him yet.

“thank you john, i mean it. you are the only thing i can depend on, apparently.” your weary tone made his hand squeeze tighter. deaky brought your clasped hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. the soft smile that appeared on your lips gave him another boost. you were strong enough to not be broken by roger, and even if you were hurt, john would be there to hold you. with another deep breath, you reached for the door knob and pushed the door open, ready to see what john had been anticipating.

both of you were wrong.

freddie fucking mercury stood in front of a sitting roger, eye pencil in hand. they were both laughing, freddie clearly mocking some critic or interviewer he encountered. freddie stepped back, taking hold of roger’s chin as he admired his handiwork.

“gorgeous rog, our dear y/n won’t be able to keep her eyes off you.” freddie had a mischievous smirk, everything clicking together as john surveyed the scene. roger’s eyes widened, and he turned towards the doorway where you stood. the fear drained from your eyes and was replaced with anger. anger reserved specifically for john. you dropped his hand, curling it into a fist by your side.

“love! what are you doing here?” roger immediately hopped off his stool, racing to sweep you off your feet with an excited squeak from you. he held you in the air for a moment before placing you back down, making sure to pepper your skin with feather light kisses while he waited for an answer.

“freddie flew me out here for the rest of the tour…”

“something wrong love?” roger asked, genuine concern in his soft voice. deaky’s guilt was mounting by the second, manifesting as a dense weight collecting in the pit of his stomach. oh lord. he really messed up now. the look of seething contempt on your face was enough to make his entire world crumble.

he fucked up. he really, truly fucked up. john's growing fixation on yours and roger's relationship was driving you farther away. in that moment, he felt something break. your trust.

"nope, just waiting for a fascinating discussion with our dear john here. i love you little drummer boy." roger grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. he seemed over the moon just to have you by his side, gazing at you with a childlike wonder. and john selfishly doubted that devotion. though an outsider would shrug off this fumble and move on, the dynamic that formed since you had met roger wrote this severance in stone.

roger wasn’t oblivious as john assumed when it came to your relationship with deaky. he noticed that john was in love with you, even if you couldn’t see it. so once the drummer picked up on your scorching glare, and john’s palpable guilt, his heart broke as well. there was no need for him to say the words. roger wasn’t mad, just disappointed that deaky would think so low of him.

“mind if i listen in on this fascinating discussion my love?”

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you decidedly avoided john until the gig began, and roger followed suit. deaky was wracked with guilt, stumbling through the show. his fingers slipped across the strings without much reason, causing fred to occasionally shoot a glance to get him back on track. the drums seemed a bit… louder than usual, aggressively perfect timing contrasting with john’s fumbling performance. the crowd didn’t seem to mind, but the band members were far from alright.

after the show, things weren’t much better. brian tried to catch deaky on their way off, presumably to give him an earful about their “god awful performance john, good lord” but he slammed the door to the bathroom shut and locked it before he had to face anymore reckoning. freddie was the next to demand an answer, taking the slightly more conservative route of screaming “pull that shit again or so help me god of rock and roll, i will break every…” and so on.

you didn’t bless john with your presence, but your absence spoke wonders. roger didn’t show up in front of the bathroom door either. once deaky crept out a vague amount of time later, the boys were far from calm, but there was no longer a threat of being burnt alive from their anger. the energy in the dressing room was horribly tense. brian and freddie seemed clueless to the reason for roger’s anger, both just focused on the show.

“wanna give us an explanation deaky?” brian muttered, leaning against a wall where multiple mirrors stood. john could see himself reflected in one of the smudged surfaces, brown eyes dark with a storm of emotions. roger was reflected in another, sitting with his elbows on his knees on a beat up couch. his face was a stony mask; completely unreadable.

“well uh… roger and,” john attempted to explain, but couldn’t seem to grasp the right words. each time he reached for something cohesive, it slipped through his fingers and he was left at square one. while deaky struggled with his words, freddie was getting impatient.

“i cannot deal with this sober. you two stay here and work out your fucking problems. better now than tomorrow morning. we’ll be at that bar across the street.” freddie declared, grabbing brian by the arm and pulling him out the door to mumbled protest. freddie silenced him with a loud hush sound, pushing brian out the door and slamming it behind him.

“so uh…” john started off, still not able to look roger in the eyes. instead, he focused on the reflection, dingy fluorescents shiny on roger’s dirty blond hair. but he didn’t seem angry. his body language spoke more of defeat and disheartenment. somehow, that hurt worse than your harsh words.

“look, i’m not mad. just disappointed that you think i would ever do that to her. i know she’s your best friend, but i love her and i would never hurt her like that,” roger was so sincere, locking eyes with john through the mirror. disappointment was certainly a word to describe the look in his eyes, along with sadness and just a hint of guilt. roger was guilty because as a younger student, there was a bit of infidelity present, and there was some weight to john’s concern. but he had grown, and he really loved you.

“i know, and i’m so sorry. you’re also one of my best friends, and i just got ahead of myself because…” john ran a hand through his long hair, gearing up for a confession of what he had known for years, but never had the strength to say out loud.

“you love her too. i know. i can’t and won’t try to change your mind, because i get it. and yeah, i haven’t known her nearly as long as you, but i love her so much,” roger’s voice cracked at the end, sending a similar crack through john’s heart. roger leaned back on the couch, a distinctly sad smile on his face. this was really all deaky had ever wanted for you. someone who loved you unconditionally, and just wanted you to be happy. someone who would never hurt you. john desperately wanted to be that person for you. but that ship might have sailed.

“yeah… i- i do. but now i think she wants nothing to do with me.” now it was john’s turn to break. losing you would hurt him irreparably, but maybe it would be the best for you. he wanted you to be happy more than anything. however, john’s selfish side yearned to tether you to him and never let go.

“just give her time, i’ll talk to her. you still are her best friend, she’ll forgive you.” roger felt weird to be comforting john when he was the one hurt. and it really hurt. because one: you were hurting, two: john, one of his best friends, caused it, and three: said best friend though he was capable of cheating so blatantly in such a serious relationship. roger watched deaky in the mirror as the moment stretched on, mind buzzing with all the events of the day.

“time… i think she still might be mad at me for breaking her calculator when we were seventeen, what if she never forgives me? because oh boy, she loves you, and i don’t know if she could let this all go…” john began to pace, messing with his hair even more. his gaze was unfocused, eyes sweeping back and forth across the room as he tried to gather his thoughts into some cohesive train.

“well, i forgive you. this tour won’t get any easier if we are at each other’s throats.” john nearly slumped to the ground in relief. he wouldn’t be able to stand losing two friends. roger got up from the couch, walking over to deaky. without hesitation, he folded him into a hug, clapping john on the back. conversation over, friend forgiven, and now you were the only uncertainty in deaky’s life.

“now come on, let’s go find y/n and head to the bar. after today’s gig, i need a strong drink or two.” roger sounded relieved and ready to move on from the days events, and john was all for it. but he knew that you would be in no mood to see him, and that would definitely put a damper on the evening. truthfully? he wanted to sleep. sleep, and forget the entire day preferably.

“you go on ahead, i don’t think she wants to see me right now.” john muttered, roger’s hand on his shoulder after stepping back.

“alright, take care deaks.”

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

true to deaky’s word, you were not quick to forgive. it took six months for a major step towards healing took place at their “night at the rainbow” shows in late november, where roger infamously trashed his drumset on stage.

you had decided to accompany them for the uk and american legs of the sheer heart attack tour, so there had been a handful of shows you were present during where deaky was soundly ignored. he did an alright job of ignoring you, no matter how much it pained him. he had adopted freddie’s flair for the dramatic clothing wise by that point. roger was always ready to go all out, and you were almost always up for helping him get ready. john had walked in on you two in compromising positions multiple times, which definitely didn’t help your frosty attitude towards deaky.

but at the rainbow theater those nights, something was off between you and roger. from what he could hear, there was some wild misunderstanding before the first show, resulting in a major shouting match while the rest of the band waited outside the dressing room. some time later, you stormed out, leaving roger alone inside. freddie glared at john aggressively until he got the message to follow you and fix his mistakes.

deaky found you right in the wings of the stage, sitting on a spare amplifier while the roadies were doing a soundcheck. your shoulders were slumped forward, eyes trained on the dust streaked stage while chaos whirled around you. the sad eye of the storm.

“i know you’re there johnny-boy. and no, i don’t want to talk.” his heart unconsciously skipped a beat when you used his nickname, before plummeting back to earth from the gravity of the situation. you sounded more hurt than angry, and as to why deaky didn’t know. but he had waited so long for a chance at reconciliation, and this was the best chance he had gotten in ages. he wasn’t about to let it slip by.

“that’s alright. i’ll wait.” john took a seat on a box just a few feet behind you, crossing one leg over the other while he waited. he knew you long enough to understand that you would immediately clam up when interrogated. so he waited, letting you relax into his presence. after five straight minutes of silence, you finally spoke.

“he can be so stupid sometimes. all i wanted was to know how long he would be gone tonight, and he just snapped. i know you guys are under a lot of stress, but he was the one who asked me to come. i just want to spend time with him.” you sounded so defeated, but john couldn’t be more excited that you finally decided to really talk with him.

“yeah, he can be a real arse.” you chuckled to yourself at his response, lifting your eyes from the floor to focus more on the stage lights and various instruments being towed around.

“you could say that again. but… he really loves you. i’m sure you’ll be alright.” deaky had to force the words out, no matter how deeply he knew them to be true. he still was crazy about you, and jealousy ripped through his body when you mentioned roger.

“thanks for listening john. i know things have been a little… iffy between us. maybe a lot iffy. and don’t take this as forgiveness. but i miss my best friend. i am not ready to let your mistrust go just yet, but consider this… progress.” john’s heart swelled at your… well… acceptance of his mistake.

“i’ll take anything at this point.” you laughed lightly at his words, going quiet again right after. the moment was over. progress was certainly made, but the conversation just made john miss you more. that evening, roger trashed his drum set, fuming as he walked offstage when the show was done. you were there waiting for him and the two of you made up. the next day, things were essentially back to the way before the rainbow theater. but you would actually talk to john now. you would laugh at his jokes, tease him; progress.

things weren’t truly, totally, alright between the two of you until the very last show of the american leg, right before they went on stage. after the show, things were a little up in the air.

but before, everything became perfectly mended. john was getting ready in the dressing room, in the back of a venue in seattle he did not know the name of. the rest of the boys were there, goofing off as usual. brian was taking photos of roger posing with ridiculous faces, occasionally calling out directions for how he should look. roger was just laughing, fluffing his hair in front of a tall standing mirror.

john sat on a low sofa pushed against one of the cracked brick walls, you sitting on the other side. there was a tense silence in your side of the room, both you and john doing anything to ignore each other’s presence. they were heading to japan the next day, which means you were heading back home to the uk, and the boys weren’t going to be back until may.

john fell back to his pre-performance memory of you and him. without even knowing it, his gaze shifted to you. just as beautiful as ever. he could almost feel the soft brush of your hair against his cheek, the comforting weight of your hand in his. your whispered words from that day prickled his skin, sending a brief shiver down his spine.

“something you need from me, john?” you caught john staring at you with a wistful look in his eye, breaking his gaze almost immediately after making eye contact. you focused instead on the soft curls of his brown hair until he responded.

“just… antsy i guess.” john wouldn’t look at you once caught, glancing down to his fidgeting hands, freddie preening in front of the mirror, brian fiddling with his camera. he wanted to avoid a potential blowout, no matter how nice it felt to casually talk with you.

“you’re gonna do great. you always do great johnny.” he still couldn’t face you, but the sincerity of your words eased his spirit. no matter how much time passed without speaking, you would always find each other. and deaky was pretty sure he had found you once more.

“well i have my best friends here, i can’t in good conscience give less than my best.” john spoke as casually as possible, gathering the courage to finally look you in the eye. what he saw almost made him melt. you were looking at him with a soft smile that made his world right itself and revolve around you.

“you’re a good man deaky. and i forgive you. truthfully, i’m sorry as well.” a beat passed before you scooted closer to him, tension slowly building in the shrinking space between you. it was broken by you surging forward and wrapping your arms around john’s neck, inhaling his scent with deep, calming breaths. he fell stiff for a moment before embracing you back, almost shedding a tear as he tightened his grip little by little. the room fell away and it was just you and deaky.

“never apologize to me, love. i’m just glad to have you back.” john whispered breathily against your neck, closing his eyes for one long moment before he felt you soften your hold and pull back, stolen from the moment by roger taking a seat on your other side. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment of rejection, but the feel of you in his arms chased away the worries he might have clung to before the show began.

“so you two have finally made up?” roger said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. you leaned into him, resting a hand on his chest through the open vest he wore. the peaceful, dopey grin john had fell just a tad, but for the moment, just for a moment, he was content.

“i think we have, my love.” you responded lazily, pressing a kiss to the underside of roger’s jaw. that was john’s que to leave. he playfully ruffle your hair just like he once did to you as a teen, then reluctantly got up, walking over to where freddie fussed over his leather jumpsuit and shimmering wristlet.

after just a few minutes of having freddie fuss over john’s appearance, the band was called to the stage. you followed them to the door, giving roger a deep kiss and the rest of the band tight hugs. you whispered faintly in deaky’s ear before pulling away, to which he responded by just squeezing you tighter. he heard roger cough, and slowly released his grip around your waist.

“i’m very proud of you, don’t you forget it.” you smiled after john released you, somehow feeling bold enough to place a hand on his cheek. for a second, a river of unspoken words flowed from him to you, deflected smoothly by your emotional walls. john sighed, taking your wrist between his calloused fingers. he squeezed your hand, then let it fall to your side.

“never. i’ll see you soon.” he waved on his way out the door, sneaking one look over his shoulder just before turning the corner and being rewarded with roger kissing you in one last goodbye. splendid.

that show might have been the jewel in the crown of sheer heart attack’s american tour. john and roger were shockingly in sync, brian’s solos sounded better than ever, and freddie’s voice was clearer than it had been in weeks. they hit their groove, and the crowd could feel it too. their undeniable energy just raised the band’s spirits, and their last songs were met with cheers for an encore. after jailhouse rock, the second to last song, john was poised to start playing “god save the queen” until brian caught his eye and mouthed an agressive “NO.” note taken, but john shot him a questioning glance. with a huff, brian strode over to deaky, taking him by the upper arm and pulling him to the far side of the stage.

“what the fuck brian?” john angrily whispered, yanking his arm back once they were on the other side of roger’s drum kit. speaking of roger, he was standing by freddie in the center of the stage. you were standing clear across on the other side of the stage, mouthing a similar “what the fuck?” towards john, who just shrugged and looked confused. he was very, very confused.

“just shut up. you might want to hold on to something.” brian mumbled, clutching his red special a little tighter. deaky was about to bite back until freddie cut him off.

“before we go lovies, roger has a little something to say. so pretty boy, the stage is yours.” freddie spoke plainly, a teasing lilt to his words. he wriggled his eyebrows at roger, who simply swiped the microphone and stuck his tongue out at the singer. freddie retaliated by blowing a kiss and prancing over to where john and brian stood.

“fred, what the-”

“oh just be quiet and listen. our boy has a lot on his mind.” freddie cooed, still not dropping his playful tone. john was understandably agitated, while brian just stood to the side with the smallest of smiles on his lips. something was going on. just before john was able to demand clarification, roger piped up and handed john an answer on a golden platter.

“hey lads, so you know me, of course. who doesn’t?” roger joked with the crowd, sending a ripple of laughter throughout the ranks of their adoring fans. john was slow to catch on, still glaring at freddie and brian at equal intervals. both astutely ignored him, smiling at roger speaking downstage.

“but i’d like to introduce you to someone very special to me. y/n, can you come one out here?” uh oh. it all clicked for john. he knew what was happening, he knew what roger was going to ask. he knew what your answer would be. john knew that he was extremely close to running offstage and throwing up. but life had other plans, and life’s name was roger. he surged on, smile brighter than the sun as you slowly stepped onto the stage.

“this is y/n, my gorgeous, intelligent girlfriend,” roger spoke to the crowd, before turning his attention to a highly confused you. a wall of glass rose up between john and you; he could only stand by as roger got down on one knee in front of their cheering fans, all going ballistic at the prospect of what was happening to their idol, right before their eyes.

“honey, dearest, angel, my love. i was such a mess when we met. university student, head full of dreams and too much shampoo. but john brought you to his very first show with us and from then on, i knew it was over for me,” roger talked directly to you, the room falling away until everyone could only watch one of the most important moments of your life. your hands went up to cover your mouth, tears visible in the corners of your eyes. roger seemed a little worse for wear as well, blinking rapidly to keep tears from falling. john wanted to wake up from this terrible nightmare, but there was no stopping what was already in motion.

“you are the light in my life, my rock, and i don’t know how i survived that long without you. i am so ridiculously, embarrassingly in love with you y/n. and there is no one i would rather share my future with,” roger reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, blue velvet box. with one smooth motion, he flicked it open, letting the burning stage lights glint off of simple diamond ring. your happy tears finally spilled over, and roger’s soft smile brightened as he spoke his final words.

“so, would you please accept this ring and, oh, i don’t know… marry me?” you nodded rapidly before he even finished talking. roger started to stand, but you ran into his arms, sinking to the ground with your arms desperately wrapped around each other. the microphone rolled away from the happy couple, squealing with feedback before a roadie came and swooped it up.

john could barely stand as he watched you hold out a shaking hand to roger. he slid the elegant ring onto your finger, smiling all the way. you pulled him in for a deep kiss, nearly toppling roger over with your excitement. once you pulled back from him, john was nearly in tears himself. he had a tragically perfect view of your tearstained face. and there sat the biggest and brightest smile in the room, one john would march heaven and earth to see.

except that moment. he wanted to give into every selfish desire and break your heart so you would never want to see roger ever again. but he couldn’t. he just couldn’t. john loved you way too much to ruin your moment. roger’s proposal was something his good heart refused to ruin. but that smile.

that goddamn smile.

⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱

first “deaky” fic (team deaks or team rog??) so yeah. hope y’all enjoyed. i actually liked writing from the boy’s perspectives. lmk if you’re down for a part two ;))))

48 notes · View notes

ashthatdrmmrgrl · 5 years ago

Note

ANSWER ALL THEM YOU BITCH👩‍💻🤪

Ooh she's getting fiesty 😈😂 here you are, love ❤

1. What is your preferred place to write?

Laptop/computer, but since I dont have either anymore, my phone is my go to

2. When did you start writing?

I think it was 8th grade offically; my english teacher got me into reading and writing so that was the 2013/2014 school year I think

3. Favourite thing to write?

Idk, I like writing gay smut if that counts for something 🤷‍♀️

4. Fluff or angst?

I'm good at writing fluff but I love reading angsty stuff

6. Where do you usually find inspiration?

Ideas come to me in dreams, otherwise if I'm watching a movie/TV, listening to music, or just seeing something during the day will spark something.

7. Do you listen to music to help you write?

Yes! I would get soooo distracted if I didn't; that way I dont hear anything outside my head and I can focus on my writing (I'm listening to music now as I'm answering these too actually 😂)

8. What's the biggest "challenge" for you as a writer?

Finding time to write at all; I've got so many ideas bopping around in my head but life gets in the way 😭😭

9. Where do you usually go to write?

My room usually; it gives me privacy and a lot less distractions than my living room or outside the house.

10. Can you give us a sneak peek at your current WIP?

Yes!! I love this scene so much so you get to read it again;

My phone buzzed in my hands and I look down to see Sofia's face smiling at me. I pause my music and pull my earbuds out.

"The Kid's calling," I say aloud before answering. "Hey, Fi!"

"Hey yourself, is Steve available? I've got history questions that I need help with and he's not answering his phone."

I roll my eyes but put the phone on speaker. "Steve, Fi needs help with her homework."

"What's up, kiddo?" Steve asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Stupid history homework; about the Commandos and I thought, 'what better way to finish this then get it straight from the source, old man," Sofia says. Sam lets out a small laugh and Bucky shifts awkwardly beside me.

"Alright, shoot," Steve says with a shake of his head.

"Original 7 members? I only know 3 of them off hand," Sofia starts.

"Easy, Me, Buck, Dum Dum, Morita, Jones, Monty, and Frenchy," Steve says casually. There's a pause before Sofia's sigh echoes through the car.

"I don't think my teacher would appreciate it if I put their names in as if we were best friends," Sofia says offhandedly.

Steve cleats his throat awkwardly. "Right. Uh, Steve Rogers, James Barnes, Timothy Dugan, Jim Morita, Gabriel Jones, James Montgomery Falsworth, and Jacques Dernier," Steve reiterates after Sofia's let's out little "uh huhs."

"Why were the Howling Commandos formed?" Sofia asks next.

"To eliminate and wipe HYDRA bases off the map; although it seems we weren't very successful," Steve says with a frown and I see his eyes flash towards the rear view mirror, to look at Bucky, I'm assuming.

"Who did the Commandos capture during a raid in the Alps?"

"Arnim Zola."

There was a pause and I couldn't help but look over at Bucky who almost looked startled that he had spoken.

"Who was that?" Sofia asks a moment later.

"Oh, uh, Sofia, that was Bucky," I say, my voice cracking at his name. Sofia stays quiet. I check my phone and see the phone was still connected.

"Bucky?" Sofia asks, sounding doubtful. "As in Stevie's Bucky?"

I feel Bucky almost stiffen in surprise next to me. "Yeah, that would be him," I confirm.

Sofia stays quiet for a few beats again before clearing her throat. "Right, well when do you think you guys are gonna be home? I hate all of this cooking I've gotta do now that you guys are gone, not that either of you were chef's," Sofia complains.

"I'm not sure, kiddo," Steve chirps from in front of me. I lean my elbows onto the front seat and rest my head near his shoulder. "We've got something really important to take care of."

"Okay, well stay safe, and don't do anything stupid; Sam, keep them in line," Sofia says with a laugh.

"Will do, Half Pint," Sam promises.

"Well, I'll talk to you guys later. And it was nice to meet you Bucky," she says.

Bucky doesn't respond, but the rest of us say goodbye before I hang up.

"Thanks, Steve," I say, clapping my hands over Steve's shoulders.

"Anytime; I don't mind helping the kid out," Steve says.

I ruffle Steve's hair before leaning back and laughing. Bucky was looking between Steve and I with confusion written all over his face.

"So the kid?" Bucky asks, his eyes resting on Steve for a moment before looking at me.

"Yeah, she's great," Steve says excitedly and flashes Bucky a smile.

"She's my sister," I say and look down to see Sofia had texted me.

I forgot to ask while on the phone but could you ask Steve if I can look through some of his stuff that the museum let him have back?

"Hey Steve, can she look through the stuff the Smithsonian gave back to you? She didn't say what for though," I ask.

"Yeah, no problem, tell her I've got stuff in the chest at the end of the bed."

"Cool cool, thanks," I say and pass the information onto Sofia.

"Not a problem," Steve says as he takes the off ramp and turns left. "Sharon's just up here," he points out a black car that was pulled over under the bridge.

Steve pulls over and ducks out of the car and greets Sharon with a smile.

Bucky sits up and looks out the front window, eyes flickering across the background, scanning the surrounding area. Bucky's knees hit the back of Sam's seat and he glares at the back of Sam's head.

"Can you move your seat up?" He asks for probably the 100th time this trip, sounding bored.

"No," Sam replies once again.

I roll my eyes and squish myself against the window. "Scoot over here more," I offer, pointing towards the leg room that I've got behind Steve's seat.

"Thanks," Bucky mumbles and scoots over so his arm is pressed against mine. It was quiet while we watched Steve and Sharon talk as she popped her trunk. "So," Bucky starts quietly, trying to exclude Sam from the conversation. "How long have you and Steve been together?"

Sam, of course, hears and snorts out a laugh, having to hold onto the door for support.

I felt my face flush and I reach over the seat to smack Sam across the side of his head. "Shut up, bird brain. Steve and I aren't together though," I say, turning to look at Bucky who looked embarrassed.

"Sorry, I just assumed…" Bucky apologizes.

"Nah, it's okay, everyone apparently thinks the same thing," I say with a shrug. "Steve's like a brother to me. Plus right now he's not swinging this way."

Bucky's eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me with wide eyes. "So like, he's..?"

"Gay? Yeah, basically. He still likes women, but he's actually with my brother, Graham," I say, pulling up a picture of Graham, Steve, Sofia, and I on my phone. Tony insisted on us having more family pictures even though we were the least conventional family on the planet.

"So being… a homosexual," Bucky says, almost sounding like the term was weird coming off his tongue. "That's openly okay now? I don't mind, but the 30s really pressed people down, so I didn't think Steve… at least I think, from what I remember," Bucky trails off and looks out to see Steve giving Sharon a hug before grabbing the gear from the trunk.

"He was hard on himself at first," I say, remembering how weird Steve would act whenever Graham would say something to try and test the waters. "I think knowing and befriending Graham really helped him a lot, seeing that it's not a mental illness, that you wouldn't be imprisoned or institutionalized for it."

Bucky still looks at Steve, but there was a small smile crooked at the corner of his mouth and his eyes seemed fond.

"I'm happy for him," is all Bucky says in reply.

"So am I," I say, patting Bucky's forearm with my hand. "So am I."

11. How many stories have you written so far?

Well I've only ever completed 1, (excluding oneshots) but I've got... at leave 7 going, a few that I've discontinued, and a shit ton of ideas that haven't been written yet 😂

12. What's your favourite thing that you ever wrote?

Well I'm honestly so proud of my Beauty and the Beast Lashton fanfic that I wrote and the only one I've ever finished. But I'm also sooo proud of 2 WIPs that I'm writing with the lovely asker

13. How many chapters does your longest series have?

I dont have any series yet, but my longest fic has like 200,000 words and no distinctive chapters yet (writing specific scenes then gluing them together)

14. What's your favourite character/person to write for?

I only really write Lashton or Stucky but I'm my cowritten books I have an OC be with Ashton Irwin and Bucky Barnes because DAMN they are kweens

15. "OCs" or "Reader" inserts?

I personally like writing OCs but I've been getting into readers lately

16. Can you tell us anything about your current WIP?

I suppose, but asker already knows since she's helping me write it 😂 it's a Marvel fic about these two girls and their brother who lose their parents in the Battle of New York in 2012. Brother is working for Stark Industries already when Steve asks my OC to join the Avengers but my OC and her brother keep that a secret from their younger sister (my friends OC). That's enough for now tho 😘

17. How long was the longest fic you ever wrote?

Question 13 kinda answered this question but its 200,000ish and growing

18. What fandoms do you write for?

Marvel and 5sos mainly, but I used to do Supernatural back in like 2015/2016. I also dabble in Shadowhunter stuff too

19. What is/are your favourite fandom author/authors?

Well the asker is such an amazing writer I love her work, um, @Larry_Lashton on Wattpad is good, @moonstruckbucky and @sunmoonandbucky are phenomenal

20. Have you ever written an AU?

That's basically all I write; I've only got one original piece and not many are real to whatever reality.

21. What is your favourite AU trope?

I have a weakness for Professor Seb/Bucky and I love stucky (and StuckyxReaders) so if you know of any hmu 😉

22. A fanfiction trope you can't help but love?

ENEMIES TO LOVERS FUCK

23. For how long have you been a fandom writer?

Shortly after I started writing, so like 2015?

24. Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it?

Absolutely! I usually loosely plot out the whole thing and try and hit the main points but by like... 1/4 or 1/2 way through depending on how long it is I'm like fuck I totally forgot I was going to add that (and by then it wouldn't make sense to add it in)

25. What do you do to motivate yourself to write?

Listen to music, but I also read what I've got to help myself get back into the flow of the story.

26. How did you find out you like to write?

Like I said it was 8th grade and my english teacher showed me this new side of reading that I didnt know about and then I was like fuck I can do this too!

27. Are there any writers (fanfiction writers or not) that have inspired you to start writing?

Well I used to only read the Twilight series, but then I read Cassandra Clare's books, and the it sorta branched out from there, so Stephanie Meyer and Cassandra Clare are who you should thank for that 😂

28. What's your favourite fandom to write for?

Does Stucky count as it's own fandom? Because that ship sails itself man #ExceptEndgame #FuckingSucked

29. Describe your style in three words.

Um... smutty... gay.... fluffy?

30. What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written?

Well I've got one on Wattpad with almost 20k but it's a continuation of a story that has like 300k, otherwise most of my other ones on there have 4k actually.

31. Blurbs or drabbles?

Both are great, dudes 🤷‍♀️

32. Have you ever written smut?

33. How long does it usually take you to write?

Used to be I could get like 20 chapters (decently long ones too) in about 8 months but now I'm not really posting anything and I'm slowly working on a current WIP

34. What's your favourite font to use when writing?

Ariel, size 11, 1.15 line spacing. Veranda is a nice font too though

35. What do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics?

I like long ones man; but I either write forever long ones or oneshots 😂

36. How do you keep yourself inspired? Seeing new things, listening to new music. Sleeping?

37. Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted it anyway?

I don't think so. I mean I've posted stuff that I wasn't excited about, but I don't think I've ever hated anything I've written

38. What's your "strong suit" as a writer?

My OCD with punctuation and formatting?

39. What's your favourite trope?

Friends who are oblivious to the other persons feelings so they dont ever make a move until they're drunk 🤷‍♀️ *40s Stucky bonus*

40. How many likes does your fics usually get?

300 for 4k reads on Wattpad

41. Have you ever used a prompt?

Absolutely! Sometimes you just need a little help and there ain't nothing wrong with that!

42. What is your weakness as a writer?

I am obsessed with the small details that nobody cares about (especially height comparisons) but I think that comes from my artistical side.

43. Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you wrote?

Oh absolutely, all the fucking time!

44. Have you ever done a collab with another writer?

Yes! Only 1 other writer who is also the asker 😘😘

45. One thing you love about fanfiction?

I think it's an amazing thing to write because people already have deep connections with the characters so you dont have to waste the first part telling their story (unless it's an AU, but even then it's totally okay to just jump right into it!)

46. What's your favourite emotion to cause your readers?

I definitely enjoy leaving them on the edge of their seats, but I also love writing fluffy scenes that make peoples hearts flutter

47. What's your favourite thing about writing?

The creativity and ability to create a reality! There's endless possibilities and that's so fascinating and amazing to me

48. Do you post your writing on other platforms? I only post on Wattpad, but I have thought about posting things on tumblr too! Thoughts?

49. What app/apps do you use to write?

Either google docs or just in Wattpad itself

50. One thing you don't like about fanfiction?

Some people get the characters totally wrong personality wise and that sorta bugs me when reading because I get confused

51. Least favourite trope?

Coffee shop AUs are a little boring unless somebody brings something new to the table (like one of them is a vampire or witch or single parent instead of just like OH this barista/customer is cute). But if I come across a coffee shop AU I'm not going to NOT read it, you know?

52. Favourite words to use when writing?

No? I mean I know everyone's writing is different and unique to the person but I don't think I have any favourites.

53. Least favourite words?

When writing straight smut I get uncomfortable with certain words people use to describe the female anatomy other then that no 🤷‍♀️

54. Do you usually like what you write?

Yeah! And if I don't, I'll change it until I like it before posting it 😂

thank you @scaryaryanna for the lovely ask and thank you to anybody who stuck around to read everything ❤❤❤❤❤

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