#to answer your question theyd probably roll their eyes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

Text

sweet chaos {Brian May}

Anons asked (in a roundabout way, I lost the original prompts): Brian/Reader where she has a crush on him but he thinks she’s into another one of the band members, and when he confronts her, he tells her he has feelings too? Also, Brian/Reader where they meet in the studio and there’s flirting and they end up together.

A/N: 3640 words. Something about Brian just makes me wanna write a lot apparently. Y/N is just.... so chaotic. ANYWAYS, so this is the fic I wrote last night and then lost, but I’ve managed to salvage it, and I’m happy with how it turned out. I’m so sorry to the two beautiful anons whose prompts were lost to my mistake last night, just know this goes out to you.

“Deaks, when did you get cool?” You gaze around the studio with an almost awed expression, hands shoved in the pockets of your jacket, before finally turning your grin on John, who was crouched by his bass case, looking up at you with a singular raised eyebrow.

“I’ve always been cool.” John was adamant about this, pulling out his bass and clicking the case shut. “You just don’t appreciate me.” After a moment, in which you rolled your eyes at him, he secured the strap on his instrument and looked up at you with an amused smile. “A year ago.” He conceded, and your eyes went wide.

“A ye- John Francis Deacon-” You cut yourself off, spluttering in surprise.

“Not my middle name.” He interjected, though you just talked over him, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“You’ve been in a band for a year and you didn’t think to tell me? I’ve been living with you for like a week!” You crowed, and your theatrics had earned both a chuckle from John, and the attention of the three other boys in the room; the rest of the band.

“You care to introduce us to your friend?” The blonde one asked, eyebrows raised, confusion clear on his face.

“If I must,” John gave you a long suffering smile, before turning on his heel to face the others, “Roger, Brian, Freddie, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Roger, Brian, and Freddie, the band.” He gestured between you all, and it takes a moment for him to finally finish processing everything you had said. “How have you known me this long and not known my middle name?”

And, okay, he did have a point; you’d grown up living next door to each other, had been practically joined at the hip since some kid had tried to push you off the swing beside him, and so you’d pushed the kid back, yelling ‘go away, he’s my friend’. You been through primary school and high school together, and it was only when John went to uni and you took a year to backpack across Europe, that you really spent a meaningful amount of time apart.

“Is it Jonathan?” You asked, feigning innocence, and John had to actually stop, where he was tuning his bass to suppress a smile. You couldn’t look at him, if you did, you knew you would just break into a fit of giggles. Instead, you took the moment to really give a good look at the band. The blonde one behind the drums, Roger as he’d been introduced, didn’t seem to know what to do with you, and instead just went back to setting up his equipment. Freddie, who had been quietly warming up his voice on the other side of the room, had paused for the moment, analysing you with a serious look before his gaze came up to meet yours. He gave an approving nod, and went back to his work, already bouncing with energy and anticipation. The guitarist, Brian, just seemed amused by the banter, looking between you and John with a loose grip on his guitar.

“Yes, my mother named me John Jonathan.” His words were practically dripping with sarcasm, but you kept your composure, not even cracking a smile.

“I’ve met Lilian, I wouldn’t put it past her..” You clicked your tongue, raising your eyebrows at John. After a beat, his eyes went wide and he tried to protest, but your facade cracked and you chuckled fondly at his exasperation, and you hear Brian laugh too, before he goes back to also tuning his guitar. “I’m kidding, Deaks, you know I love your mum,” your waved him off with a fond smile, making a move to leave the recording studio, but thought better of it, turning back with a mischievous grin. John’s expression immediately became suspicious. “And of course I know your middle name; it’s Dick.”

“Richard.” He corrected automatically, the word accompanied by an eyeroll. You heard Roger snort out a laugh.

“How do you get Dick from Richard?” Freddie asked with a confused frown, stopping his pacing. The moment the words left his mouth, you’re pretty sure you can see John spontaneously form a headache, and your grin sharpens.

“You ask him nicely.” You hear both you and Brian say at the same time. There’s a beat of silence, and you both look at each other, sharing an amused moment of camaraderie, much to John’s exasperation.

“I like this one.” You say, voice firm, pointing directly at Brian. His smile widened before he ducked his head, going back to his guitar. John had just started shaking his head at you, but he was smiling so you knew you weren’t in any real trouble.

In the sound studio, the tech they had on, as well as the other two girls, Mary and Kristin, they introduced themselves as, greeted you warmly enough, and thus started one of the longest and best nights of your life so far.

John was good at bass, much better than you had realised, much better than he had any right to be, at least that’s how you phrase it in your head when you’re resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to the playback of his latest version of the song they’d been working at for about half an hour. Eyes glassy, your mouth remained shut as the boys bandied about musical terms and ideas that you didn’t really understand, though you knew you’d appreciate their end product. John sort of loved that about you, your ability to walk the fine line between irritating and lovable, yet also knowing when to keep your mouth shut if you didn’t think you could contribute to a conversation as well as you’d like.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, what do you think, Y/N?” Brian’s smiling up at you from where he’s sat in a wheelie chair they’d co-opted from the office in the next room. Snapping back to reality, you take a step back from John, looking to the now-empty studio, and then to your best friend.

“What do I think?” It takes all of your effort not to just blurt out exactly what you had been thinking; I watched John eat a worm once and now he’s making kick ass music and I don’t know how to consolidate those two mental images of him in my mind. “Great.” You answer instead. “I think it sounds great.” After a beat, you duck your gaze, laughing a little self consciously, “I don’t know a lot about music so I can’t really offer much feedback.”

“Well, if you stick around, we can probably teach you a think or two.” He shrugged, but there was clearly an offer in his words, and you smile, before turning and raising your eyebrows at John, as silent question asking if you could stay.

“He’s the one who made the offer, not me.” John just put his hands up in mock surrender, pushing you a few steps closer to Brian as he maneuvered around you to head back into the recording studio. “She’s your problem now, Bri.” He called over his shoulder, giving you a sunny smile, which only served to make you irritated.

“Problem?” You huffed, before stalking over to the sound desk, leaning over it as you turned on the microphone. “Don’t disrespect me like that, John Jonathan, I watched you eat a worm!” And to that, John, along with the rest of the band and those in the sound studio, laughed, and you felt the tension leave you as you cracked a smile. After a moment, you see John pulling up his bass, and there’s a gentle tap on your left hip, and you turn, seeing the sound technician waiting with pointedly raised eyebrows. Stepping back quickly, you move to make room for him, promptly falling right onto Brian, who was the one who had been trying to get you to move in the first place.

John’s started playing again so no-one else hears Brian’s quiet grunt of discomfort at your landing. Scrambling to stand up and apologise, you hear him quietly laugh, reaching out to take hold your wrist, not to keep you there, more like a reassurance.

“It’s fine, you’re my problem, after all.” And despite the fact that you resent being called a problem at all, the way he’s smiling at you, the way he says it, well maybe it didn’t sound too bad.

The sound got more experimental as the night wore on, and once they’d reached the tipping point while recording the tenuously titled ‘Seven Seas of Rhye’ the night became electric. You spent your time often on your feet, bouncing around the space, listening with a grin as the others would suggest a new, eclectic ideas. If you weren’t in Brian’s lap in the wheelie chair, which you’d claimed as your seat for the night, you were dancing with Mary, or John, or even Roger and Kristin, you’re pretty sure you’ve been a part of something truly extraordinary by hearing this album being created.

“Alright, alright,” when the night wraps up and John comes to collect you, you’re with Brian, chatting to Mary with his chin on your shoulder, “time to head home, dear.” Mary excused herself from the conversation, heading off to find Freddie, while you turned and gave John’s outstretched hand an unimpressed look.

“You cut me loose, Deaks, I was in the market for a new best mate and you pushed me at poor Brian here,” shaking your head, you lay the faux disappointment on thick, crossing your arms and leaning back just a little further against Brian, who was grinning with amusement at the whole situation, “this is really all your fault.” You added, but John just rolled his eyes, smiling exasperatedly at you.

“It’s fine by me, I’d love to have you off my sofa, but I just thought I’d let you know,” and he cast his gaze towards the recording studio, “Brian lives with Roger.” He said pointedly as Kristin’s high, sweet laugh rang through the air, and you saw Roger was grinning confidently, showing her how to twirl a drumstick in favour of packing up his drum kit. Standing abruptly, you took John’s free hand.

“Yeah, probably a good call.” Brian’s expression soured, but then he turned back to face you, smiling brightly. “Lovely to meet you, though; we’ll be seeing you again, right?”

“You guys play gigs?” You asked, and he nodded. “Well then, now that John’s let me in on this dirty little secret of his, I think you’d be hard pressed to stop me.” And with a final, playful wink, you loop your arm through John’s and leave the studio.

And, well, you do see them again. You see them a lot; you’re there every weekend, at gigs, sometimes in rehearsals, you become as regular of a fixture as Mary. The boys liked having you around, you were friendly and bright, and you actually seemed to bring John out of his shell a little. In general, you found it easy to be around them, being close to them, and soon enough, you’ll find yourself comfortable enough to just lean against them when you’re standing close, at bars or during a break in rehearsals. Casual hugs, arms around shoulders, it’s a staple of your existence with the band, which you love because - yay! Human contact! - but with it comes a pretty big detractor.

It’s damn hard to establish whether or not the goofy guitarist who smiles like goddamn sunshine, and who you may have an enormous crush on, is even remotely interested in you as more than anything more than a friend. You’d really tried not to like him like that, for John’s sake at least; he was your best friend, you couldn’t jeopardise your friendship with him, and his band mate, but the heart wants what it wants, and yours wants Brian to never stop smiling at you the way he does when he’s on stage and he sees you cheering for them in the crowd. He’s always the first to hug you when you arrive to a show, never one to brush you off when you tuck your arm into his when you’re both waiting for drinks at the bar, he plays along well when you’re doing a bit, and he’s always the first to drag you away whenever you’re about to get in a scrap with Roger.

That was the main problem you had with the band; Roger was far too easy to wind up, and you were far too willing to kick that hornet’s nest whenever the whim struck you. He respects you well enough, likes you well enough, is even willing to share the armchair in the hall outside the rehearsal room when you two are the first ones to arrive, and the others show up and you’re both arguing over an article in the paper but he’s got an arm around you for stability. It’s not that you don’t get along with Roger, it’s just sometimes fun to watch him get worked up over a joke. Like when you’d told him you’d seen better drumming in a high school marching band. You’d almost copped a drumstick to the face for that one, but you’d caught it just before it had landed, and after a beat of silence in which the both of look a little impressed at your reflexes, you both break out into unintelligible arguing, drawing the attention of both John and Brian who had been chatting at the side of the room.

You’re about a foot away from the drum kit, brandishing the drum stick and threatening to shove it somewhere unpleasant, and Roger was standing, looking a little like he was two seconds from crashing directly through the drum kit to tackle you, when you feel a pair of arms around you, and you’re being dragged away. Looking around, you see John advancing on Roger like he’s a spooked horse, trying to calm him down.

Once you realise it’s Brian, you stop trying to get away, and simply let yourself be walked backwards until the two of you are near the door, and he turns you, arms still around you, so he’s blocking Roger from your sight.

“Why do you have to rile him up like that?” Brian asks, and you turn around so that you’re toe to toe.

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to take a joke.” You grumbled, crossing your arms awkwardly as they’re trapped between the two, though Brian doesn’t loosen his grip, in fact, he seems rather endeared by your antics.

“Can I have that?” He asks, eyes dropping to the drumstick in your hands, and you snorted. You can hear Roger in the background angrily murmuring that he’s fine.

“I caught it, it’s mine, fair and square.” You say, voice lofty. “It’s a trophy.” You added, and that set Roger off again, just as Freddie walked through the door.

“It’s a trophy, my ass! Give me back my drum stick, you knob!” He hollers, and you use the element of surprise to shift both yourself and Brian to face the enraged drummer, though he doesn’t let go of you. John’s got his arms around Roger, but he’s not being held nearly as securely as you.

“This trophy will go up your ass! Call me lazy again!” You dared at the top of your lungs, even as you were being hauled backwards. “Let go of me, Brian!” You protested as Roger broke free of John and started wrestling one of his cymbals from it’s stand, to both John and Freddie’s shouted protests. “You throw that cymbal and I’m keeping it too!” Are the last words you get in before the door to the rehearsal space shuts and you hear it lock, presumably by Freddie. Brian lets go of her and promptly sat himself on the armchair in the hallway, looking like he was trying to process what had just happened.

With your back against the door, you twirl the drumstick absentmindedly, a skill you’d picked up quite by accident, simply by virtue of having seen Roger show off so much. It’s not something that goes unnoticed by Brian, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Why?” Is all he asks, and you finally look up. When your gazes meet, you lob the drumstick gently over to the side of the room, already bored with it.

“He was being a dickhead.” You sighed, as if it were answer enough, letting the tension out of your shoulders and resting your head against the door. Silence stretched between you, and when your gaze shifted from the ceiling to look at Brian, he was waiting with a half-smile for an elaboration. “Rog told me that if I was going to just laze around I should start looking cute or being helpful,” already your explanation made far too much sense, and Brian chuckled. “So I said I only help out people with talent, and that the rest of you were fine-” you don’t know what to make of his pleased little smile, but you’re already getting to your feet and making your way over to him, “and of course he feels the need to prove himself.” You say, sitting down on Brian’s lap. Sitting sideways, you hang your legs over the arm of the armchair and rest your cheek on his shoulder. It’s automatic, the way he rests a hand on your thigh, the other coming to wrap around you in support.

“Wouldn’t have mattered what he’d played, would it?” You can hear him smiling, and he already knows your answer.

“He implied that I was lazy and not cute.” You made a face, like you couldn’t believe it, even after the fact. “Me!” Brian couldn’t help but chuckle at that, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“I have to ask, is this some weird, passive-aggressive flirting technique you’re using on him?” And when he says it, you sit bolt upright, frowning deeply, flushing with embarrassment; he thinks you’re flirting with Roger of all people?

“I don’t know how to flirt with people I do have a thing for, let alone Roger.” But as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt your face heat up further, and you scrambled to a standing position. “What makes you say that?”

“Well you do talk about his butt a lot.” Brian himself seemed unable to look at you, and you started pacing.

“I threaten his ass a lot, I’m not- Is this about what I said about the drum stick?” You asked, eyeing the singular wooden drum stick where it’s lying on the floor. You don’t pick it up.

“You also- the spinny thing he does with it. It’s a thing he does to show off, like his signature, I just-” He’s floundering a little bit, and you find yourself smiling despite the situation.

Coming to a halt, you stand, facing the chair, fond smile on your face as you see where he’s a little flustered. Heartbeat thumping in your ears, you throw caution to the wind, just a little.

“If it was just as easy to learn guitar as it was to twirl a single drumstick, I’d’ve been Jimmy Page months ago from watching you.” You half smiled, heart in your throat. He finally looks at you, radiating pride despite his bashfulness, which is a sweet look on him, and you gently step forward, settling back down into the chair and curling up by him.

“I like seeing you in the crowd, you know?” He murmured, tapping out a gentle rhythm with his fingers on your thigh.

“I like watching you play.” You respond, before admitting. “It’s one of my favourite things in the world, seeing you up there, all confident; you’re very talented, you know-” and you look up to gauge his reaction, but he cuts you off with a kiss. Relief floods through you as you kiss him back, indulging in what you’d been hoping for for what was months at this point, since the first studio recording.

“Y/N-” John unlocks and open the door in quick succession, takes one look at where you and Brian had just broken apart, caught absolutely red handed, and immediately shuts the door again. You and Brian take a moment to look at each other, processing what had just happened, before bursting into laughter again, which quickly devolves into more kissing, until he’s gently moving you off of him, reminding you that he still had the rest of band practice to attend.

John is smug during the entire drive back to his house where you’re still crashing on his sofa, a few days away from the paperwork for your own place being finalized.

“I knew it.” Is all he says when you finally snap and tell him that smug, righteous asshole wasn’t a good look on him.

Freddie caught on almost directly after John; he’d picked it up from context clues, and also because at your next gig, Mary seemed to know without you or Brian barely speaking two words to each other. She’d leaned over to Freddie during one of the breaks and asked how long the two of you had actually been together, saying that she’d meant to ask before but it’d never been so obvious. When Freddie tells you this, you almost do a spit-take.

“You’re joking.” You respond, eyes shining with amusement. “What? Is he looking at me differently?” You cheeks flush as you look over your shoulder at where he’s waiting by the bar, and he looks back at you, shooting you a bright grin that made your heart flutter. Looking back, Freddie’s wearing a knowing smile.

“No, he’s always looked at you like that.”

#brian may #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #queen imagines #queen imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #borhap imagine #john deacon #roger taylor #freddie mercury #mary austin #the angry lizard writes

1K notes · View notes

crystalninjaphoenix · 6 years ago

Text

One Short Day

A JSE Fanfic

Yay, I wrote something that isn’t connected to pain for once in my life! Or at least, the most you get are hints and maybe a moment. I was planning on working on something else, but...I don’t know, I just felt like I needed something softer, and I’m sure there are people who need that too. So behold, an attempt at mostly-fluff! I just wanted to write the boys having fun out on the town, simple enough ^-^

It was rare that there was a full day they could all be together. A day where Schneep wasn’t working, Chase wasn’t recording, Marvin didn’t have a show, and Jackie didn’t have to bolt off at the last minute to do heroic vigilantism. A day where they could just do whatever they wanted, all of them, together.

They met up at Jackie’s apartment building. Naturally, JJ arrived first, then Schneep and Chase at about the same time. Just when they were starting to get worried, Marvin showed up, sprinting up to the group and skidding to a halt beside them.

“Late again, I see?” Jackie said when Marvin finally caught his breath. “Maybe we should just tell you we’re meeting thirty minutes earlier than we actually are.”

“Gimme a break.” Marvin rolled his eyes. “My phone was out of battery so I couldn’t check the time, then I got distracted.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “With what?”

“Um...” Marvin looked away, embarrassed. “I may have started playing Plague Inc...for an hour...or more.”

“Dude. Set a timer next time or something,” Chase said. “Ask JJ if you can borrow one of his watches if you have to, I dunno, anything.”

“Enough of this, we are wasting minutes,” Schneep said, checking his own watch. “Jackie decided what to do, what is it?”

Jackie immediately brightened. “Okay, so, we all know JJ hasn’t seen much of the town.” Everyone nodded. “So I thought we could give him the grand tour! Get lunch, go to the park, and I think the fair is open tonight so we can finish with that. That good with everyone?”

“So we’re just gonna walk all over town?” Chase asked. “Only two of us can drive, and none of us have a car right now.”

“Toughen up, Chase, walking’s good for you!” Marvin teased. “Right? Schneep, you’re a doctor, tell him I’m right.”

“He’s right,” Schneep said.

“See?!”

JJ snapped his fingers for attention. I thought we were wasting time? I certainly can’t lead the way, so I’ll ask one of you to.

“Right!” Jackie started off. “C’mon guys, lunch is waiting for us!”

They ended up at a local restaurant near the center of town called Kassie’s. It was a quaint little place, and since it was a warm day they decided to sit at a table outside. The chipper waitress gave them a plate of free fries, then took their order, and headed back inside.

“Is it just me, or is it kind of hot today?” Chase asked, fanning himself with some of the napkins.

“No, it’s not just you. God, I’m dying,” Jackie agreed.

“Jackie, you are not only wearing long sleeves, you are wearing two layers of them,” Schneep pointed out with a smile.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Mr. Sweater-all-the-time!” Jackie rolled his eyes. “What about Jays? He’s got that vest/dress shirt on.”

JJ looked aghast. You four can run around and show your arms all you like, but I’ll have you know it isn’t proper for a gentleman!

“Are you implying we aren’t gentlemen?” Marvin asked, right before tossing a fry into the air and catching it in his mouth.

JJ raised an eyebrow. Indeed.

“I don’t care, it’s hot. I’m taking this off.” With a few flailing arms, Jackie pulled his hoodie over his head and tugged it off, revealing a Marvel-themed T-shirt underneath. “Ah. That’s better.” He looked around to see the others staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Holy shit, Jackie!” Chase yelled. “Your arm!”

“Wh—oh fuck I forgot I was wearing short sleeves today.” Jackie looked down at his left arm. “Yeah, okay, I got scars, you can look all you want.”

“So that’s why I’ve never seen you in T-shirts,” Marvin realized. “Jackie, what the fuck happened?”

Jackie frowned, then coughed awkwardly. “Y’know...I’d rather not talk about it right now. Maybe later. Besides, Schneep already knows the story. ‘S how we met.”

“Honestly, you three are making mountains out of mole hills,” Schneep said. “Is fine now. You should see his torso, now those are scars.”

That only made the other three look more worried. Jackie sighed. “Look, guys, we’re having a fun day. We’re gonna have fun, and not gonna get all concerned, though I do appreciate it. And you—” he glared at Schneep “—need to stop saying that, ‘cause it makes it sound like I lost some epic battle instead of just having top surgery.”

Chase and Marvin relaxed in unison. “I’m still convinced you have, I dunno, fucking bullet scars or something,” Marvin muttered as Chase pulled the remains of the fries towards him.

“Oh yeah, but Schneep’s talking about the surgery. He’s done this before, and it’s no longer funny!” Jackie looked pointedly at Schneep when saying that last part, who just responded with a massive grin.

JJ was the only one who still looked concerned, but now that was paired with confusion. He looked around at the others. What is top surgery?

You could almost hear the hiss as the others all inhaled sharply in unison. They’d all forgotten for a moment that JJ didn’t know. Schneep cleared his throat. “Jackie, would you like to explain?”

“Right yeah. God, where do I start with this?” There was a slight pause in the conversation as the waitress returned with their food. The moment she was out of earshot, Jackie started up again. “Alright, so...” he leaned forward, hands clasped together, eyes wide and nervous. “You know how I call myself Jackieboy Man, right?”

JJ nodded. A moniker I never understood, but yes.

“Well, I didn’t always call myself that. Neither did anyone else. Because, well, they all thought that...I was a, uh, girl. Even I did. For the longest time I just sort of...accepted it. I only started to figure it out in high school. I got my first job, and one of the customers called me ‘that nice lady,’ and hearing it...just sort of surprised me. Like someone gave the wrong answer to a really easy test question. So...I started thinking, and eventually I realized that I wasn’t...actually a girl. That was when I renamed myself.”

JJ didn’t look any less confused. Why would they not understand that? Wouldn’t they be able to...see that you are not?

Jackie winced. “Well, no...you see, I...fuck.” Jackie put his head in his hands, took a deep breath, then looked up again. “I was born...in the wrong body. Top surgery is...it’s to get rid of the parts I didn’t want. Are you...are you getting this now?”

After a moment, JJ’s eyes widened. He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay. Good. Great.” Jackie sighed. “I don’t know if this word existed in the twenties, but nowadays we have ‘transgender’ as...a thing. When someone is something other than what their body is born as. I’m still a he. Or, just, anything but she, really. Literally call me anything but a girl. And please, don’t ask about what my name was before. Or what’s...down there. Those questions make me...really uncomfortable.”

My good man! JJ signed. Why would I do such a rude thing? And to my dear friend, nonetheless.

Jackie’s shoulders slumped. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled in relief. He’d been dreading this conversation, but better to rip the bandaid off now. “Thanks, man. I...appreciate your understanding.”

JJ smiled. No trouble at all, Jackie! I may not fully grasp the concept, but that’s no reason to disrespect your wishes.

“If you want, I can answer questions. Just...later. And as long as you get I don’t represent everyone who’s trans.”

JJ nodded and gave a thumbs-up. There was silence for a moment, before Chase broke it by saying “Hey, guys, I made a Jenga tower out of fries.”

Schneep rolled his eyes, and immediately knocked over Chase’s tower.

“Aw you bitch!” Chase gasped. “You didn’t even play the game right!”

“Fuck your games. Actually eat the food like it’s supposed to be.”

“You’re just jealous cause you got a salad instead.”

“Maybe I am! Did you think of that?!”

“Dude, I just said I did!”

The rest of lunch was covered in the blanket of familiar banter. Jackie smiled to himself. God, he was so glad nothing changed.

About two hours later, the boys had made their way to the southern part of the city. That was where the park was. It had an official name, but everyone just called it “the park” because there was only one of them and it was shorter. The park itself was pretty big, with trees, paths, flowerbeds, and two playgrounds at either end.

Since it was the middle of the afternoon, there were quite a few families with young children hanging around, parents watching their kids climb all over the jungle gyms and pushing them on the swings. While Marvin and Jackie walked ahead, pulling JJ with them and talking his ears off, Chase and Schneep hung back a bit. Chase was staring at the families on the playground.

“Chase? Are you okay?” Schneep asked gently.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine. It’s not a down day.” Schneep gave him a Look. “No, really! It’s just...y’know, seeing all the kids kinda bums me out. You know?”

“Of course I do, Chase,” Schneep said. He was probably the only one of the boys who did. “If you are feeling upset, you can go home.”

“No! God, no, that’s not what I meant at all. This has been good so far. I don’t want it to end.” Chase frowned. “Now I’m just...man. I’m starting to lose it.”

“Chase.” Schneep grabbed his hand. “If you are not enjoying yourself, we can always go do something more quiet. We would hate to push you to do something you are not up to.”

Chase considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, it’s not too bad. It helps that you guys are here, I think. But I’ll let you know...if it gets too much.”

Schneep gave him a long look, before finally judging that everything was alright. “Okay. You have to do that, or I am going to break into your home at night and yell at you for lying.”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” Chase laughed. He looked down at their clasped hands. “You’re not worried people are gonna think we’re a couple, then?”

“What? Oh. Is there no such thing as regular hand-holding in this country?! Besides, it should not fucking matter. Also you are not my type anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re not mine, either. You’re a guy.” Chase and Schneep both had a good laugh at that.

Marvin looked over his shoulder at the two of them. “Are you two gonna walk fast or what?”

“Or what,” Chase said with a smirk.

“Oh, you’re hilarious. A fucking comedic genius. Hey guys!” he said that last part to Jackie and JJ. “We’re gonna slow down so these two assholes can join us.”

“Marvin, how dare you,” Schneep said, mock-offended. “At least be more creative in your insulting us.”

“No.” The two mini-groups merged together to form the main group once again. “So what’re you two talking about?”

“Chase is worried that hand-holding makes a couple,” Schneep tattled.

“Bullshit,” Marvin stated. Jackie went “yeah!” in the background. JJ frowned at the use of language, but nodded. “What makes a couple is the kissing. And romantic interest in each other, which leads to the former.”

“You say, having not been on a date in at least five months,” Jackie muttered.

“Shut your stupid face, you...lovely person.” Marvin pulled his wand out of his pocket and twirled it, like he did when he was nervous. “We’ve all been kinda busy lately.”

“Yeah...that’s true,” Jackie sighed. “But maybe if you went out more, you could find someone you could go out with. Just once, if a commitment isn’t your thing right now.”

Marvin frowned. “Why in the wide world of wingmen would I go on a date once deliberately?”

“A night of fun?” Schneep suggested.

“With a complete stranger that I have no interest in? No. I need to have some intrigue in whoever they end up being.”

“None of you are gonna get anywhere with him,” Chase said. “He doesn’t get one-night stands.”

“Damn right I don’t! There’s no point!”

And it just seems improper, JJ signed. If you aren’t going to court someone, don’t approach them at all.

“Marvin! You have an ally!” Jackie gasped.

“Good. Finally, someone who agrees with me.” Marvin held up his hand and, after a moment of figuring out, JJ high-fived it. “Yeah! There we go, you got it!”

Jackie checked the time on his phone. “Alright, it’s starting to get a bit late. If we want to get enough time at the fair, we’re gonna have to book it to the eastern side.”

They didn’t actually run the whole way there, despite Jackie wanting to. By the time they got to the fair the sun was starting to set. They bought tickets and headed inside, where the Ferris wheel and the roller coaster towered over the smaller rides and the carnival games. It was a weekday, but it was one of the first days the fair was open, so the fairgrounds were crowded but not packed.

Chase gasped. “Games. We can do the games first.”

You do realized they’re all rigged, right? JJ asked.

“Who cares? They’re fun! Games now.”

Soon, the others started to suspect that the reason Chase was so eager to play games was because he knew he would win every time. The dude was scarily good. A combination of sheer luck, skill, and fuck-it-let’s-take-a-chance-ness led to many more victories than the others, something Marvin and Schneep immediately called him out for.

“You are cheating, I am sure of it!” Schneep huffed, folding his arms.

“Nah, just have a knack for it. And, in this case, practice.” Chase tossed one of the wooden balls back and forth while he waited for the carnival worker to hand him his prize. “Ya gotta aim for a bit above the spot where the third jug sits on top of the other two, then throw hard. It’s a bit of an arc.”

“No, you’re a cheater,” Marvin asserted, muttering darkly.

“Aw, c’mon! Here, will this make you less salty?” Chase accepted his stuffed prize from the worker, then handed it right over to Marvin. “I got it for you! You like cats.”

Marvin glared down at the plushie. “You’re lucky it has a cute face,” he said.

“See?!” Chase smiled. He was actually having a good time. It was a good change of pace from the park.

Eventually, everyone had a prize except for JJ. They were running out of games to play, but then Jackie spotted one of those ‘find the ball under the shuffling cups.’ “Hey guys, you up for that one?”

JJ brightened. I’m actually quite skilled at those!

“Well, then, let’s go!” Jackie pulled him over, the others in tow.

The carnival worker was calling out the rules of the game. “You get one, you win one of these lovely roses, you get two in a row, you win one of these tiny fellows here, and you get three in a row, you win one of these adorable penguins! Step right up, step right up!”

“Hey!” Jackie waved to get the worker’s attention. “We want to play!”

“Well then, young sirs, the rules are simple. Keep your eye on the ball, see right here, right here, it’s under the middle cup. Now watch as I take the cup this way, then that, then this and oh look at that! It’s goin’ fast, it’s goin’ fast don’t lose it don’t lose it! Now, which one is the ball under?”

Jackie was fairly sure he knew where it was, but he turned to JJ anyway. “So, which one?” he asked.

JJ bit his lip, then reached forward to point at one of the cups...only for the worker to slap his hand away. “I’m sorry sir, please don’t touch the cups. To prevent tamperin’, see? Just tell me.”

JJ looked a bit stunned at the worker’s aggressive tone. But he signed It’s under the left one.

“Excuse me?”

“He says it’s under the left one,” Marvin jumped in.

“...ah, I see.” The worker lifted up the cup to reveal the ball. “Seems you were right. Do you want to try again?”

The boys glanced uneasily between each other. The worker’s tone had dropped from the polite-carnival talk to one that was a bit...short. She was also talking much slower than she was before, drawing out the vowel sounds. “He can hear you perfectly fine,” Chase said. “He just can’t talk.”

“Mmm...I see...” The worker pursed her lips. “Do you want to try again?”

They all nodded. The worker was silent this time as she shuffled the cups, faster than before. When she stopped, she looked at Jackie. “Which one is the ball under?”

Jackie had a vague idea where, but he wasn’t sure. “JJ, do you know?”

The left one again, JJ signed, less enthusiastically.

“The left,” Jackie translated.

The worker frowned as she revealed the ball under the left cup. “You boys aren’t cheating, are you? Those weird gestures seem like symbols.”

Marvin laughed bitterly. “Yeah, they’re symbols alright. They stand for words. Do you not know how sign language fucking works? He’s telling us the answers ‘cause he’s the best one at it. Now let’s do this one more time.”

The worker shuffled the cups impossibly fast. Once more, she asked Jackie where the ball was. This time, he had no idea, and just looked at JJ. JJ, in turn, stiffened a bit, eyes hardening. It’s under the right one, though I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak it up her sleeve.

“Right,” all the boys said in unison.

The worker reluctantly lifted up the rightmost cup to show the ball sitting underneath. “Congratulations,” she said dully. “You win one of the big prizes. What color do you want?”

Turquoise, JJ signed. “Turquoise,” Jackie translated.

They walked away from the booth in silence. After a few moments of walking, Marvin said, “I could totally put a curse on her.”

“No,” Jackie said firmly.

“Just one little spell. She can lose her voice for a week.”

JJ shook his head, then tucked his prize under his arm so he could use his hands to sign. Revenge is never the best answer.

“It’s what she deserves!” Marvin snarled. “She was making that difficult on purpose. I saw her, she was going much slower with the customers before us. JJ, I’m so absolutely sorry on her behalf, cause god knows she’s not gonna fucking apologize.”

It’s okay, JJ insisted. Believe it or not, I’ve faced worse, especially in my day. They were much less friendly back then.

“I am sure you are not using that word in the correct meaning,” Schneep mumbled.

Marvin shoved his hand into the pocket containing his wand. “One hex. Come on. Just one. I won’t even make her ears fall off or anything.”

Everyone refused to let Marvin curse the carnival worker, and he reluctantly relented. At this point, they’d finished with the games, and all that was left were the rides. They took turns, one or two of them sitting out to watch the accumulated prizes while the others spun and flew and then stumbled off the rides. After trying most of the rides out, they took a snack break for ice cream and cotton candy.

“I think the Ferris wheel is the only one left,” Jackie said. “Unless we want to catch that sideshow thing. There’s supposed to be magicians—”

“Fake,” Marvin interrupted.

“—clowns, animals, and they advertised a knife-thrower—”

Schneep nearly choked on his ice cream. “No.”

“Okay, got it. No show then.” Jackie nodded. “But I’m not too sure about the Ferris wheel. I know at least one of us is afraid of heights.”

“Yeah, uh, me.” Chase bit his lip. “But I think I’ll be fine if I don’t look over the edge. Unless someone else doesn’t want to go on it, then I’ll stay off with them.”

“I’m good,” Jackie said. “Schneep? Marv? Either of you scared of heights?” Both of them shook their heads. “Alright. JJ?”

JJ signed, A bit, but after all these dizzy rides, I’ll take something calm like the Ferris wheel, if you please.

“Alright. Guess we’re going on the wheel, then!”

Night had truly fallen by this point. The Ferris wheel wasn’t exceptionally tall, but it still rose above everything else in the fair, providing a fantastic view of the colored lights below. Instead of having the traditional two-person seats, this wheel had booths that could fit up to eight people, so all the boys fit into one just fine. The wheel turned, and the booth turned with it. Chase squirmed, resolutely not looking over the side. Jackie and Marvin did the exact opposite, practically leaning out of the booth to look down below.

JJ tapped Schneep, signing something real quick. Schneep nodded, then yelled “Can you two stop that?! You are going to fall out of the fucking side, and you are making Jamie nervous.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jackie sat back down.

“Aww,” Marvin groaned, but pulled back into his seat. “I hope you know I do this for you, JJ.”

JJ smiled. Thank you, it’s appreciated. And I’m sure your body feels the same way, having narrowly avoided a fall to great injury.

“Nah, I would’ve been fine.”

The wheel stopped. Their booth was right at the top. “Oh, fuck,” Chase muttered, covering his eyes with his hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to come,” Jackie said quietly. “We would’ve been alright letting you stay down on the ground.”

Chase peeked between his hands. “I know. But...it’s really nice up here. Quiet. And with just you guys. As long as I ignore the distance from the ground, I’m good. You’re my friends, you know, and you make everything better.”

“Oh, Chase,” Marvin gasped. “That’s...really sweet!”

“What? Didn’t think we where friends?”

“It’s...always nice to be reminded.” Marvin smiled softly.

Well then consider this your reminder, Marvin! JJ wiggled his mustache happily. I consider you all my friends, maybe even family. You are all wonderful people and I love having you in my life!

“Nooo, stop.” It was hard to see in the dark, only lit up by the lightbulbs on the Ferris wheel, but it was possible that Marvin was actually blushing.

“You know what? I love you guys.” Jackie grinned. “Not afraid to admit it! Best friends I’ve ever had.”

Schneep cleared his throat. “Yes, I feel the same. You are all great people, and I am fortunate to have met you. I...love you as well.”

“Aaaahck!” Marvin appeared to be trying to fold into himself. “Too much love! Fatality!”

Chase chuckled. “Marvin! Accept our love!”

We love you, Marvin! JJ signed eagerly. Now you have to say it back!

Marvin made a strange sort of groaning exhale before inhaling deeply, calming down. “Yeah...I—I love you guys too. God, I love you guys so much. You should all know that.”

“There we go!” Jackie said, triumphant. “Marvin, you are, truly, the emotionally constipated one. And I thought Schneep was the worst.”

“Excuse me?!” Schneep gasped. “I assure you I am very love-sharing. I just do not use words too much because they are complicated.”

“Understandable,” Chase shrugged. “I can barely speak half the time, and I was born in English.”

I thought you were born in Ireland, JJ signed, amused.

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

The Ferris wheel started lowering, stopping and starting as it let passengers off. The boys stepped out of the booth and onto land once again.

JJ yawned. I must say that I’m rather tired after all this. I think it’s time we go home.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it,” Jackie agreed.

“You all are weak!” Marvin countered. “I’m good for another couple hours.”

“Watch you crash immediately upon entering your room,” Chase laughed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I think JJ is right,” Jackie said. “It’s time to go home.”

Schneep nodded. “Yes, I could stay up longer, but I have morning shift tomorrow so I should not push my luck. I will see you all later?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Course, dude!”

“Definitely.”

Count on it!

With that, they left the fair. Eventually they split up, each heading their own separate ways until they eventually got to wherever they were staying that night. Some went to sleep immediately, some stayed up a bit later, but eventually they all went to bed.

And when they decided to do it, none of them had trouble for once.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction

32 notes · View notes

justalittleofyourlove-fic · 6 years ago

Note

Can we have a drabble of Xander and Ryder when Xander is away at college and Ryder calls her for help?

This one got kind of long... I hope enjoy!!

And yes, there are pictures at the end for you.

Staring in the mirror, pulling a deep breath through her nose, Xander Woods was preparing herself for the day. Her first day of her PhD program!

After attending Stanford for her bachelor and masters degrees, she’d moved back to the east coast for the final leg of her academic career. New York City, and Columbia University, was her home for the next couple of years.

“Are you really nervous?” Kelley, her fiancée, stood behind her. She slowly wrapped her arms around Xander’s waist, her chin resting on her shoulder. “I’ve only seen you nervous like… 3 times in all the years I’ve known you!”

“5 years ago, nearly to the day, when we met,” Xander said with a soft smile. Her eyes shifted to meet Kelley’s grey eyes in the mirror.

“A few months after that, before your first lacrosse match,” Kelley added with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Xander turned in her arms. “Of course I was nervous! How was I suppose to know I’d meet an amazing Scottish girl at university. One who would actually love me as much as I love her! I’d just asked you to be my girlfriend and you were about to see me play a game everyone said I was the best - ”

Kelley leaned into her, silencing her rant before she could really kick it into high gear. Xander hummed and settled more fully against the counter behind her, pulling Kelley with her.

“You’re going to do great, babe. I know it. Your students will love you!” Kelley whispered against her lips when they separated.

“The third time you saw me nervous was the day I proposed.” Xander replied. She sighed and pressed her forehead to Kelley’s. “I have students. Who look up to me! Love, I’m not a role model!”

Another kiss and an eye roll followed. “Xan. Ryder looks up to you.”

“That’s different! She’s my little sister!”

“Oh, Xander. No. Most 15 year old girls don’t want anything to do with their parents or their big sisters. They’re moody and snarky and tired and stressed over boys.” Kelley’s hands moved up and down Xander’s back as she spoke, smooth lines and wandering circles meant to calm her down.

“I think we both know Ryder Griffin-Woods is going to be a lady killer. No boys for her,” Xander said with a chuckle. “I don’t know if I’m happy about the no boys or worried for all the teenage girls back in Polis.”

Kelley giggles with her. Then she pressed another short kiss to Xander’s lips. “Good luck today, babe. I can’t wait to hear all about it!”

**********************

It was just over a week later when Xander’s phone rang in the middle of the night. Kelley only groaned and rolled over, away from the light and sound.

Xander pulled herself up onto her elbow, fumbling for the bright screen on her nightstand.

Ryder Die: FaceTime Call

Glancing at the time, Xander’s heart began to race. She sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet up over her naked chest as she settled against the headboard.

“Ryder?” She said as she accepted the call. “It’s 1:30 in the morning. Are you okay? Are Moms okay? Clio - ”

“I need your help.” Ryder said.

The tone was more serious than Xander had ever heard her baby sister. She could barely make out her blue eyes on the screen, it was so dark.

Leaning over, Xander flipped on her bedside light.

“Ryder. What’s wrong?”

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean to… I don’t even know how we ended up here!” Ryder spoke quickly. Her words tumbled together and the pitch shifted to panic. “Moms are going to kill me, Xander! I was just trying to impress this new girl, her name is Sammie and she’s just so pretty and funny and she can surf! She came over and we practiced on the wave pool Uncle Linc and Declan built for me and then - ”

“Ryder!” Xander interrupted her rant loudly. Kelley shifted beside her, looking over her shoulder.

Her little sister blinked a few times. Tears sparkles as they fell down her cheeks. “Xander?”

Sitting up, Kelley reached for her shirt and slipped it on. She wiggles her fingers at Xander, wanting the phone. Xander handed it over without arguing.

“Ryder, honey. What’s going on? Are you safe?” Kelley asked.

The teenager only sniffles and nodded. Xander breathes a sigh of relief as she slid out of bed and grabbed the sweatpants Kelley had tossed across the room earlier in the evening. She pulled on an old hoodie, one of Clarke’s from her days playing softball at UCLA, before climbing back into bed.

“Take a deep breath,” Kelley instructed. Xander didn’t know if she was talking to her or her sister, but she took a deep breath anyway. “Where are you?”

“Brooklyn,” Ryder replied. Her voice was barely over a whisper. “I think…”

Xander stiffened. She held her hand out for her phone and shook her head at Kelley’s warning look.

“Ryder Griffin-Woods!” She hissed as soon as she could see her sister again.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry!” Ryder said as quickly as she could.

Xander was already sliding out of bed again. She set her phone down, shaking her head when Kelley reaches for it. Instead she pulled off her sweats and hoodie and grabbed her jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. Pulling on some fresh underwear and a bra, Xander sighed.

“Where?” She asked as she buttoned her jeans.

“A diner. On Metropolitan Avenue.” Ryder sniffled and mumbled the words.

Kelley has joined Xander in getting dressed. She pulled her shirt over her head as Xander picked the phone back up.

“Are you okay? You’re safe?” Xander asked.

“I’m fine. There’s a few cops in here. One of them saw me crying and bought me some fries.” Ryder held one up and smiled weakly. She bit into it and smiled. “They’re really good.”

Xander chuckled and shook her head. “We’ll be there soon. 30 minutes, tops! Do not move!”

“I won’t!” Ryder promised. “Thanks, Xan!”

Tapping the screen to end the call, Xander sighed. She glanced at Kelley.

“C’mon, babe. Let’s go rescue your sister.”

“You don’t have to go,” Xander replied. “I can go get her and we’ll be back in an hour.”

With a shake of her head, Kelley held up Xander’s leather jacket for her to slide her arms into. She kissed her neck and smiled at the sigh her fiancée let out.

“You should probably call your moms. Make sure they know Ryder is safe.”

“I’m sure they think she’s at a friends house.” Xander replied.

“Then you should call them and let them know she isn’t.”

Xander laced her fingers with Kelley’s tugging her out of their bedroom and toward the front door. “You want me to sell out my sister?”

“If you don’t tell her, what happens when Ryder does?”

She took a moment to consider that. She loved being a big sister. She’d taken to the role naturally. Ryder was her little Kork 2.0 and Xander adored her for it.

“We’ll call them once we’ve got Ryder back here.” Xander decided. She shrugged at Kelley’s arched brow. “There’s no point in them worrying about her now. She’s safe and we’re on our way to get her. We’ll wake them up once we’re all safely back home.”

***********************

It was 32 minutes. Xander and Kelley walked into the diner hand-in-hand to find Ryder curled up in one of the booths.

“She’s been out since she got off the phone with you.” The waitress, Roni, said when they slid into the empty bench opposite her.

“Ryder,” Xander said loudly.

The teenager jumped and clutched at her jacket.

“Oh! Xander!” She said tiredly. She yawned and stretched. “I was so scared!”

“Why didn’t you just come to the apartment?” Kelley asked.

Ryder shrugged and dropped her chin to chest.

“Answer the question.” Xander said.

“I don’t have any money with me.” Ryder admitted.

With an eye roll, Xander slid out of the seat again and approached the waitress. The cops had paid for Ryder’s fries and her hot chocolate but left before Ryder ordered a grilled cheese.

Once the bill was settled, Xander handed her jacket to Ryder since she shivered when they stepped into the cool autumn air.

“Ryder?” Xander said, nudging her sister with her shoulder. At the blue-eyed glance that answered, Xander continued, “I am very happy you called me. You know I’ll always have your back. Always.”

“But?”

“We’re calling Mom and Mama as soon as we get back to the apartment.”

Sighing, Ryder nodded. “I kind of figured you were going to say that. I was going to call them in the first place but… you were closer. I didn’t think they’d want to get on the train tonight.”

“Well yeah,” Kelley laughed and draped an arm around Ryder’s shoulders. “But those 3 or 4 hours on the train are nothing compared to the month or so you’ll be grounded.”

Ryder smirked at the ground. “I didn’t take the train. We flew.”

Xander stopped in her tracks. Then she laughed. “I don’t want to know. I want plausible deniability. But you have to know you’ll be grounded until your birthday!”

And PICTURES!!

Xander and Kelley!!

And teenage Ryder!

#drabble #Xander #Kelley #Ryder #teenage Ryder

26 notes · View notes

matrixaffiliate · 6 years ago

Text

Like the Storybooks

Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon

FFN and AO3

(sorry everyone, my internet died as I was trying to post this)

Chapter 20

Sirius, as matter of habit, rose with the sun. He was already, to some extent, aware that Marlene did not. She would have to be woken by a lady’s maid in order to be on time for breakfast. But on that first day of their secret marriage, Sirius stayed in bed with the sleeping princess and just took in the sight of her. She’d cast off her shift entirely nearly as soon as her inner chamber door was shut behind them and hadn’t found instance in the interim to reclothe herself.

Though he’d certainly seen representation of the nude female form in paintings and sculptures, but this was a new experience. He had not expected that his life would include an extremely undressed heartbreakingly beautiful woman lying sleeping next to him. The the new day’s light peeked through the bed curtain, reflecting off her hair like a halo. He silently thanked the lord that his new wife slept deeply and well into the morning. The look on his face was probably worthy of all the ribbing he would take from the king and then some. But he couldn’t help it. He’d always contended that a princess like this should not, by all logic, have been a real person. He had only become more sure of this as he fell in love with the woman. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her sleeping head.

She stirred. Little sounds escaped from her perfect mouth but none of them came together into anything that Sirius understood as language.

“Good Morrow, My Princess.”

Though he’d intended to remind her that they were meant to tell the king and queen about their marriage and beg their blessings, he forgot all about it as Marlene’s mouth found his.

The couple were not in attendance at breakfast that morning.

After a truly mortifying experience involving the Lady’s maid, Emmeline, Sirius was quite glad to be clothed and above suspicion that afternoon.

Eventually the opportunity presented itself for himself and Marlene to speak privately with the King and Queen.

After they’d made a show of propriety for lookers on, and were well out of earshot, Marlene took no prisoners in the endeavor.

“We’ve entered into a precontracted marriage. I assumed you’d be pleased with the match. It was rather late into the evening when the discussion came to pass, you see. Waiting until morning to beg your permission seemed both unnecessary and vexsom.” She was fearless in such a way that set Sirius’s pulse racing. The walls he’d carefully constructed around parts of his mind had come crashing down all at once and only hours ago. He was still adjusting to the fact he didn’t just love her; he was allowed to desire her. The whole thing was very distracting, to say the least.

James’s face was truly a sight as he took in the statement his cousin had matter of factly dolled out. He cycled through confusion to shock, onto mild disgust and finally to amusement. Sirius could have predicted the exact responses, but they were quite a lot of fun to watch, regardless.

“You broke through my knight’s chastity belt? I thought he had it soldered on.”

“Marriage tends to be the key to such things.” Marlene smirked at the King and then winked at the Queen who chuckled.

Sirius still had not said said anything up to that point. He’d expected that the king would make some sort of crack about the concept of chastity. He’d been a little too loud in his defense of the virtue being ideal in a knight for this to have gone any other way. It did not stop his face from heating up with embarrassment. Why did this have to be discussed? Couldn’t they just… talk of war or something? Surely they had enough battles to plan that this was all very silly?

He chided himself that he’d rather plan the demise of his own family, where good men would surely die, than tolerate a little embarrassment. Marlene, surely did not seem embarrassed in the least. She seemed quite pleased with herself.

Sirius no longer wanted to think about war, all he could think of was how very difficult this secret would be to keep. It was a battle unto itself to refrain from touching her.

“Am I to understand your mild insults as your blessings upon our union?” Sirius smirked, tearing his eyes away from his wife to meet his dearest friend and sovereign eye to eye.

“Yes many blessings and all that. But it’s not going to be popular with… nearly anyone… so I hope you have some sort of plan.” James turned to Marlene with a pained expression.

“I always have a plan, cousin.” Marlene rolled her eyes with a huff and Sirius restrained from kissing her as her eyes flashed dangerously. “You knew my mother. I’m ashamed you had any doubt.”

“I had no plan. Largely, I just do what her Grace tells me.” Sirius admitted, chuckling as Marlene regained her temper.

“Well that sounds like the start of a long and happy marriage to me. What’s the plan, your Grace?” Queen Lily’s warm smile reassured Sirius that he hadn’t stepped on any royal toes in making this rather hasty decision.

“It’s best if we keep our union a secret from the court until my husband returns to me a Duke.” Marlene moved to take Sirius’ arm and smiled at her own jest. She was making it very hard not to kiss her, and by the look on her face she knew it.

“Your instincts are good, cousin. I hope that you’ll advise me someday when the Chief Minister has decided she’s had quite enough. Though I am concerned that there will be rather glaring evidence of your marriage before we are able to take Semprapuria, at least with the current plan in place.” James looked pointedly at Marlene.

Sirius didn’t quite understand. Everyone was already meant to think that they were in love. What evidence could be so glaring that the whole court would become suspicious that the affair was more than courtly in nature? Before he put it together in his head, Marlene's voice chimed in.

“Worry about the fruitfulness of your own marriage cousin. Leave me to mine. I have contingencies worked out, in any case.”

James rolled his eyes, “Of course you do.”

Sirius could have kicked himself. He’d been rather preoccupied and had somehow failed to consider the fact that Marlene could be with child.

“Your Majesties,” Sirius heard the stilted formal tone to his own voice and nearly cringed. “Do we have your leave to go to Father Hagrid? I’d prefer we get this in the church records so there will be no questions as to the honor of the Princess.”

“My husband and I are of one mind. Is Father Hagrid a trustworthy holy man?”

“He’s been my confessor since I was 15. I trust him with my life” James answered without hesitation.

“Very well then. There’s no time like now.” Marlene looked up and nodded.

Sirius was very happy, in this instance, to follow the Princess’s lead.

Sirius pulled his boots off as he sat down on Marlene's - their - bed, and sighed contentedly.

“I’m so glad that everyone protested my idea to marry you off just after you arrived.”

Sometimes words just happened to Sirius. This was clearly one of those times. Though his statement was entirely true the look on Marlene’s beautiful face as she reacted was proof that they’d been completely inadvisable.

“You… what? You wanted to marry me off? This was never brought to my attention! Explain yourself, Sir!” Her attempt to look very angry was admirable. But there was still a hint of laughter in her eyes as she chided him, and standing there in her underskirt completely undermined her faux chagrin.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Sirius smiled and stood to walk up to her. “It wasn’t some wicked plot and it was to my own brother!”

“Well believe it or not that does not make it sound any better from my perspective.” Marlene's face became wide with shock. “In fact it makes it a sight more nauseating.”

“Oh come on, Marly…” He wrapped an arm around her waist and slid the other hand along her cheek. “All I knew about you was that you were the strangest lady I’d ever met and you considered me the most handsome gentleman at court.” He smirked down at her. “It seemed like a kindness to marry you to a man who bares a strong resemblance. I wasn’t aware that you’d only have the genuine article.”

“You are quite lucky Sir,” Marlene snaked her arms around his neck and Sirius knew he was in the clear, “that you are so very handsome. I don’t generally think I’d be over fond of the touch of a man who wanted to have me as his sister in law.” She rolled her vivid blue eyes. Her bitten lips curled themselves just so, into a most captivating smile. Sirius pulled her closer. The look in her eyes was fast becoming addictive. He lifted her shift from the bottom to tease soft caresses up the outside of her thigh.

“Well it does appear that I am lucky then. Because you seem more than a little fond of my touch.”

She only nodded and took in a sharp breath. Her eyes were so full of want as he brought his lips to hers. When she practically melted into his kiss, he knew that he was more than lucky.

They couldn’t have been asleep for long when a messenger burst into the Princess’s chambers. This was highly irregular. Therefore Sirius had to assume someone was there to harm Marlene and prepare to defend her with his own life… while completely naked. He’d always thought he’d die with a sword in his hand, but he’d not pictured it quite like this. Life had taken a turn for the strange when Princess Marlene came to live at court.

“I am not here to do anyone harm! I’m just a messenger!” The man cowered as Sirius pinned him against the wall, sword at his throat. “Lady McGonagall sent me to collect Sir Sirius! She says it’s… about your family? That’s all I know. I promise. Please lower your sword and… put on some clothing?” He said the last of his plea in a hushed voice.

“If you even think about saying anything about this you will regret it for the rest of your life, do you understand?” Marlene interjected in a disconcertingly threatening voice for a woman who had been screaming bloody murder not a moment ago. Though she was still standing naked as the day of her birth, she held herself with such authority that she might have been wearing her cousin's own crown.

There was no time to think. Sirius’s head was spinning as he quickly dressed and, since there was no going back from this in any case kissed his wife goodbye as he followed the messenger. He was sure whatever news awaited him was grim.

#blackinnon #blackinnon fanfiction #sirius x marlene #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #medieval au #medieval fantasy AU #fake relationship au

5 notes · View notes

idreamofwolves · 6 years ago

Text

Summary: Klaus has lost his greatest love to another man and confides in his old friend Stefan.

Pairing: The Originals - Klaus x OC

It was the beginning of autumn, the once warm summer air had turned into that familiar, crisp breeze. The earth seemed like it was graying, dark clouds hung from the sky like curtains, surely it was about to rain.

Leaves of red, brown, and orange crunched beneath Klaus’ feet as he walked aimlessly down the sidewalk. He took in the wonderful sights and smells like he had done every fall since his birth, except this time, it left a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was her favorite time of year. He felt, deep down, that he should have been sharing this gloomy day with her, but instead she was probably cozying up with someone else.

As The hybrid walked into an old, musty, bar, that honestly looked the same as it had almost one hundred years prior, he pushed the thoughts of jealousy and anguish from his mind and took a seat at a booth by the window.

“Hi, I’m Rachel, what can I get for ya?” A waitress asked as she smiled sweetly. She was pretty and upbeat, something Klaus has grown fond of in someone else and noticed upon seeing the young woman.

“Cab, please. That’s it.” He answered, barely over a whisper.

“House okay?” She asked, receiving nothing more than a nod from him. As she left, he noticed the quiet chatter around him but was too lost in his own head to pay any mind to the locals and their petty, human, and otherwise useless gossip.

He stared out the window, drowning himself in his own thoughts as he watched the storm roll in. He was so focused that he hadn’t even noticed when Rachel set the glass of wine down in front of him and left. Who knew how long it had been there before he saw it?

Soon, after 2 glasses of wine and a cigarette, something jolted Klaus back to reality. “Hey boss.” It was Stefan, he slid into the booth across the table and greeted him. “What’s up?”

“I don’t want to be bothered, so if you don’t mind..” he said, trailing off.

“I heard you and Lily broke up. And-“ he was cut short by the darkest of glares given by the temperamental hybrid. Klaus has already gone through a somewhat murderous spree since it all happened. Since he’d gotten out of of his anger, he’d been more so dealing with the burden of loss, but Stefan was quick to give a much gentler tone, as to not bring back the cold blooded killer. “Tell me what happened. “

“Why do you care Stefan? Klaus asked after an exasperated sigh. “You have had a lost the woman you love more times than I’m sure you’d like to admit, and you sure as hell didn’t come to me for advice.”

“I’m just trying help.” He gave Klaus a stern look, letting him know he was just genuinely trying to be kind to his once best friend.

The hybrid took another glance out the window as he started his short story. “I went to her house to see her, everything seemed fine.” As he spoke he could feel this heart practically hanging from his chest. He didn’t like confiding in people, but who else was going to do this for him? “There was a pack of cigarettes on the table...” The event of that day flashed through his mind, bringing him back to the first moment he could remember feeling heartbroken in ages.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

”Lillian! Come, I have a gift for you.” Klaus called as he entered his girlfriend’s home. She was still in her pajamas and her hair looked disheveled, nevertheless Klaus found her mesmerizing. She was so beautiful and perfect in every way in his eyes.

As she came to the doorway where her loving boyfriend stood, bearing a bouquet of flowers and a box from Tiffany’s. Her eyes were already red and swollen, she smelled like salt and Klaus automatically knew something was wrong. “Thank you.” She almost choked out as she took the flowers from him and put them in a vase. As she filled the vase with water, Klaus noticed something out of the ordinary.

“Cigarettes?” He questioned, knowing well she didn’t smoke. “Who’s are they?” He asked calmly, his interest only slightly piqued by the odd object. He lazily pick up the pack and examined it, confused by it.

Lily’s heart sank and he could hear it pick up in speed. “Oh, those. I don’t-“ she started, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“What’s wrong, love? What’s going on?” He asked, his paranoia kicked in, or so he thought, and he was on edge.

Tears were already streaming down her face when she managed to choke out “Klaus, I uh- I need to tell you something.” He waited silently while she stood before him. Her body was shaking and her breaths were uneven. He reached out to take her trembling hand, but she pulled it away, unable to look him in the eye. “I made a mistake.”

Her words hung in the air, Klaus didn’t quite catch on to what she meant yet. “What are you talking about?” He asked as he felt anxiety rise.

“Klaus, those cigarettes aren’t mine. They belong to man I met a while back. “ Before he could get a word in edgewise, she blurted out “We slept together last night.”

Klaus could feel the color draining in his face, he felt nauseous and immediately wanted to kill whoever smoked the Camels in his hand. “You did what?” He asked, and to Lily’s surprise, he didn’t sound angry, but worse, he sounded crushed.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobbed, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “I never meant for that, I just happened and I feel terrible.” She was already begging for his forgiveness, desperation haunted her voice and left the air in the house feeling cold and stale.

He took a step back, honestly terrified of a human for the first time in his entire supernatural life. “How could you do that?” He asked, so calmly that you’d have thought he was expecting this.

The hybrid’s anger was familiar, something Lily knew very well how to deal with, but this? This hurt he was showing? That was all new territory and she suddenly felt so distant and far from him that he wondered if her heart would give out on her from being so heavy. “I’m sorry, I love you. Please don’t-“

“What, kill him?” He asked, holding back a laugh that held no happiness, only absurdity. He took another step back and threw down the cigarettes and Tiffany’s box on the table. “No, no, I won’t touch your new lover.” His tone was venomous and the look on his face was a look that came from the devil himself. “You keep him, revel in your new love.” She knew this was a threat, but of what nature she was unsure.

“Please, we can work this out. I’m so sorry, let me-“ He backed up again as she took steps toward him as she begged. “Don’t go, we can fix this. Please, you know how much we love each other.”

“Our love was a mistake.” He blurted out, suddenly uncaring of anything in the world. His old, thousand year old heart was falling into pieces and there was nothing he could do. “And I don’t make the same mistake twice.” As harsh and angry his words were, his demeanor was still relatively calm.

He heard Lily fall to the floor and sob when he stormed out of her house. Such a large part of him wanted to go back in and tell her they’d work it out, he was desperate to coddle her and wipe away her tears, but he had to stand his ground and protect his own heart. Love had only proven to be heartache once more.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“They were his.” Klaus continued to Stefan as he thought about that damn pack of Camels. “She admitted she slept with him and I left. End of discussion.”

Stefan had noticed Klaus looking down at his phone, as if he were expecting a call. “She won’t call, you know.” He advised, and the look of Klaus’ face confirmed he believed the same thing. “Look, I know you love her, but it’s over.” Klaus’ knew it just as well as Stefan, but hearing it out loud was different. Hearing it out loud made it seem far more real.

“So what do I do now?” Klaus asked, pleading for an answer, something that would take the pain from his chest if only for a moment.

“Now, you and me go get some drinks. What do you say?” This made Klaus remember why he and Stefan were so close all those years ago. He was always so much more than a friend, he was a brother.

“Yeah. Let’s forget tonight.” He said, allowing Stefan to lead him from the booth to the bar.

Stefan looked at Klaus with a sympathy no one else would. And just before he dropped the subject, he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and said “it’s going to hurt for a while man, but you’ll be fine.”

#klaus mikaelson #klaus imagine #the originals #stefan salvatore #break up #sad #cheating #lost love #the vampire diaries #one shot #fanfic #klaus fic

12 notes · View notes

sanders-specs · 7 years ago

Text

Camp Swan Chapter 3

A/N: Yay we’ve survived another week! Hope everything is going okay for ya. If not then I’m confident it will! Stay strong :) For now let’s delve back into our summer camp adventures.

Warnings: Swearing, homophobic slurs, bullying, intentionally not eating, social anxiety (at least how I understand it. Again, if I get anything wrong feel free to let me know)

Parings: None. Just a flirty Roman

part 1| Previous

tag list: @princeyssash

“Well,” Roman says as the new kid blocked them all out, “he’s going to be a joy to room with, isn’t he?”

Logan sighs. “It seems that we have a troublemaker as a roommate, yes.”

“Now, now, I think he just doesn’t understand how great camp is just yet,” Patton says, speaking for the first time since Virgil ridiculed his favorite place on earth. “Give him some time and he’ll come around.”

“I don’t know,” Roman says doubtfully. “People like him never seem like the type to just ‘come around.’”

“Nevertheless,” Logan says, turning back to his thing to continue unpacking. “We shan’t let Virgil’s negative attitude damper our camp experience. Roman, I understand that this is your third year here, yes?”

“Yep!” Roman says proudly. “Though this is my first time meeting you.”

“Oh you’ll love Lo!” Patton exclaims. “He’s so smart, he knows just about everything.”

“If I knew everything then I would have at least a dozen Nobel Peace Prizes at this point in my life,” Logan says, “as well as a cure for all illnesses. As great as that would be, it is, in fact, false.”

“But you are smart,” Patton says.

“Yes, that is a correct statement.” Logan puts the last of his clothes into his closet and turns to Roman. “I suppose we should get the annoying, frivolous questions out of the way. Why do you enjoy coming to Camp Swan?”

Roman blinked at him, glancing at Patton for help but Patton was just sitting and staring at Roman curiously, like he was wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Well for instance,” Logan says, “I come because the particular forest that the camp is located is home to many species of plants that I would not have a chance to study through the rest of the year. I’ve been studying them every year since my first year and have been documenting their changes as our planet’s climate has changed. The camp provides the necessary resources for studying them as well, which is handy.”

“And I’m here because I love it!” Patton exclaims.

“Yes it seems that Patton enjoys the togetherness that Camp Swan brings,” Logan says with a slightly exasperated sigh. “I can’t say I understand, however I don’t judge him for it.”

“So what about you Roman? What does Camp Swan mean to you?” Patton asks.

“Ah,” Roman says, looking as if he understood better. “I come because it gives me a chance to work on all of my talents. Singing, acting, dancing…well okay I’m still working on the dancing part. Plus their equestrian training is fantastic!”

Logan had to admit that he was slightly impressed that Roman knew the word equestrian, though if anyone would be apt at horseback riding, it looked to be Roman. The other boy looked to be in fair shape, with big biceps that strained against his shirt showing that he worked out. Logan could also see through the tight t-shirt that Roman probably had what was known as a toned stomach as well. It distantly occurred to him to wonder just why Roman insisted on wearing clothing that was just a bit too tight. It did not seem comfortable.

“Look I know I’m handsome but you don’t have to stare,” Roman says.

Logan blinks. Had he been staring? He supposed that he must have, if Roman seemed to have thought so. “My apologies,” Logan says. “I was simply wondering why you would not wear better fitting clothes. We are at a camp after all, wouldn’t you want to be as comfortable as possible?”

Roman stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Frowning, Logan looks at Patton who seemed to be trying to hide a smile. “What? What did I say?”

Roman just kept laughing. He clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Man, Patton said you were smart, he didn’t tell me you were funny too.”

“I was not trying to be,” Logan says, shrugging off Roman’s hand. The other boy didn’t look offended, he just grinned at Logan.

“To me, this is comfortable,” Roman says, showing off his muscles that strained against his clothing. “It’s snug but not too snug, you know?”

Logan sighs and shakes his head. “I do not, but I suppose I will have to take your word for it.”

“Logan likes his facts,” Patton informs Roman. “He likes things to be straightforward.”

“Then I will respect that!” Roman declares, sounding for all the world like a royal. “or try to,” he adds in a calmer voice.

Patton sat on the floor, grabbing one of his nearby plushies and hugging it to his chest. He looks at Virgil, who still had his back to the rest of them, seeming to either not care about the conversation or not hearing it. “Do you think he meant what he said?” Patton wonders aloud. “That his parents hate him?”

“Oh please,” Roman says with a laugh. “Teenagers like him think that world is against them. honestly they’re a pain to deal with.”

Patton frowns. “Well something must make them feel that way.”

“Perhaps,” Logan says, knowing that it was futile to convince Patton of anything less. “However, we cannot force him to tell us anything he does not want to. Nor can we force him to enjoy camp. It will have to be up to him.”

Patton sighs a defeated sigh, but he nods. “You’re right as always Lo.” Patton turns his attention back to the ceiling. “Hey Roman, we haven’t finished the stars!”

“Right,” Roman jumps to his feet, gathering the stars they still had left to stick to the ceiling and walls.

Sighing, Logan turns towards the door. “I’ll get a chair.”

After a few hours, Thomas came back by the room to find Patton, Logan, and Roman all sitting on the ground in the middle of a game of Uno and Virgil lying on his bed, eyes closed and headphones on.

“Hey guys,” Thomas says. He points to Virgil, eyebrows creased. “Why didn’t you invite Virgil to play with you?”

“We did but Dr. Gloom and Doom seems to be too good for us,” Roman says, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Not really knowing what to say to that, Thomas just changes the subject. “O-Okay then. Anyway, the assembly is starting soon so we should all head over.”

The boys all nodded and stopped the game, even though Roman was complaining that he was just about to win (Thomas had seen that he had the most cards out of everyone, but even Roman’s roommates didn’t seem to want to correct him) and the three of them walked past Thomas and into the lounge. Thomas frowns, looking into the room where Virgil was still lying. It didn’t even look like he’d unpacked.

“Aren’t you guys going to get Virgil?” Thomas asks.

“He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with us and to leave him alone,” Logan says matter-of-factly. “We are simply answering his request.”

Thomas frowns disapprovingly at them and looks at Patton. The more kind-hearted boy shifted uncomfortably on his feet, avoiding Thomas’s gaze. It was clear that he felt guilty, but the fact that he wasn’t countering Logan’s statement meant that he agreed.

Thomas sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “Look guys, we’re not going to get anywhere this summer if you exclude your roommate. It’s just going to make things miserable for everyone.”

The boys all slump, but Patton sighs and walks back into the room to retrieve Virgil.

Virgil stood in the back of the crowd, playing with his fidget cube as he watched the head of the camp, Joan they told the campers to call them, talking about all the different activities at the camp and how they would all rotate throughout the summer. Virgil wasn’t really listening. He was too focused on not focusing on how close he was being forced to stand to complete strangers. Thomas stood behind him, his arms crossed like some kind of officer making sure that the prisoners didn’t try to run for it. Virgil had to admit that he thought about it, but where would he go?

He couldn’t see his other roommates anywhere, as they had run off as soon as they’d gotten there, but that was probably for the better. He’d snapped at them enough earlier. Every time Patton tried to get him to play a game with them or talk with them, he’d snap. Every time Roman was being obnoxiously loud—so loud that he penetrated the bliss Virgil’s music provided—he snapped. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to get through the summer with those two. At least Logan seemed to understand when someone wanted to be left alone.

“Alright, I think that about does it!” Joan says. “Now is time to get some grub! Head on to the mess hall.”

The crowd dispersed, and Virgil turned. Thomas was still standing there, looking down at him. “Care to go get something to eat?” he asks.

Virgil rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to lead me around like a lost puppy. I’ll just follow the crowd.”

Thomas gives Virgil a smile he knew all too well. It was a smile that said he was close to losing his patience with Virgil but he had to be nice so he was going to smile through the pain. “Alright, be sure to be back at the cabin by sundown.”

Virgil just nodded and started following the flow of the crowd. Usually finding the source of food was easy, because that’s where everyone always gathered. It was the same for any animal in the animal kingdom, humans no exception.

As he was walking, though, he heard someone behind him laugh just a bit too loud for it to be conspicuous. “Who plays with one of those things unless they’re a fucking child?” someone said.

Virgil glanced over and saw a boy about a foot taller than him with long brown hair that reached his shoulders and a mischievous smirk on his lips. He was looking right at Virgil, or rather at the fidget cube in his hand.

Scowling, Virgil turns away from him, shoving the cube into his pocket. The last thing he wanted to do was to deal with morons. He just wanted to get something to eat and disappear into his cabin as soon as possible.

A hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him. “Hey, faggot,” the boy says, “got any more of those sissy cubes? You know they say not to bring anything unless you want to share with the class.”

“Get out of my face,” Virgil growls.

The boy raises his eyebrows. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said get out of my fucking face,” Virgil says, yanking himself out of the boy’s grip. “and get a life. The only childish one here is you.”

No one around them seemed to notice or care about the exchange, not that Virgil was surprised. No one ever care about losers like himself. The boy reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “No one talks to me that way,” he growls.

“First time for everything then,” Virgil says, not backing down.

The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved Virgil back so hard that he fell on his ass in the damp mud. The boy stood over him, glaring. Before Virgil knew what was happening, the boy’s good connected with Virgil’s ribs.

“That’ll teach you to talk back to me, you emo fag,” the boy says spitting on Virgil’s arm. He walked off, leaving Virgil on the ground.

Rubbing his sore ribs, Virgil picked himself up, the whole situation coming back to him. He felt his limbs shaking, his breathing becoming sparse. He looked around, but he was alone. Everyone else had disappeared in the mess hall. He looked at the now crowded building and shook his head. He couldn’t go in there, not looking like this. It would just make that boy feel even better, and probably make Virgil the butt of a lot of jokes. No he couldn’t go in there. He’d just eat breakfast in the morning. He didn’t need food tonight.

So Virgil turned and forced himself to walk back to his cabin. He needed to be alone. He needed to change. He needed to be free of this fucking camp.

Chapter 4

#sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #Camp Swan fic #my fic #swearing #homophopic slurs #bullying #intentionally not eating #social anxiety #fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

shattered-catalyst · 7 years ago

Text

So this one time- at earth bending camp*.

for: @shakeitrictor- maybe not your rictor but its a rictor and I thought this may make you laugh.

Summary: Catalyst asks Rictor if people talk in their sleep. What has Rictor been talking about?? How does Cat drink his hot cocoa?? Is he a cinnamon roll?

Tune in to find out.

Excerpt: “Does everyone talk in their sleep?”

Rictor’s head snaps up from where he was stroking the coals of their fire. Dwindling in the late evening hours, each of them huddled close under a blanket. Clutching cups of cocoa, Catalysts had extra marshmallows; just like a certain red head. “What brought this up?” An uneasy feeling bubbled in his stomach as the teen shifted beside him, taking a sip.

“Does everyone talk in their sleep?”

“Oh, you were speaking a lot in your sleep last night. I was just curious if this was a normal, human thing?”The scowl on the smaller brunettes head was both curious and confused.

This time it was Rictors turn to take a sip of cocoa, longer than usual. Dios Mio what had he said? His nose wrinkled for a moment. Just staring into the fire in front of them. Hard. Trying not to give in to temptation. The last two days had been longer than he had expected. Than both of them had expected. But certainly not unpleasant. Slowly he could see some cracks in the armor Isaslan wore. Slowly he was catching glimpses of the kid he was.

Earlier they had caught buckets of frogs, he had seen him smile and laugh then. It had made everything worth it. Then they had done more power practice. Mostly feeling the earth and reading the fissures. Then they both washed up and got ready for dinner: potatoes, vegetables, corn, and some fish. Now listening to fire crackle and the crickets they were drinking cocoa for the evening.

Talking, mostly answering questions. But a lot of story telling. It was weird telling this kid stories about himself, about star. He left a good bit out. But this, was probably the most nervous he had been all day.

“What did I say??” Shit.

Catalyst reaches picking up a stick to poke the coals this time. Face passive and at rest, that same blank look Shatterstar used to wear all the time. Unreadable to most, but not Rictor. There was hesitation hidden under those blueish eyes. Shrugging under the thick wool blanket, he had on Rictors jacket as well. Hollow bones and the warm climate on Mojo world meant he caught cold much easier than most.

“I said ‘alot’.”

“Yeah, but what did I say?”

“Well first you started out yelling.” Clearing his throat he lowered his voice to Rictors tone. “Si! Si! Si! Si Corazon! Almost there! Si! Ah! Si! A little more!Wait no right-there!Si!”

Rictors face paled before turning red hand clutching the coffee cup tighter- theres no fucking way he had?! Had he!?

Catalyst continued. “Then! Then, Julio your arms went out and smacked me in the face. You screamed : Si!! Si!!Corazon!! You flipped the omelet! Its perfect!! I knew you could do it mi amor!”

He deflated in relief, rubbing sweat from his brow. Oh thank god. For several heartbeats he thought he had had a sex dream.. “D-did I now??”

“Yes then the rest of the night you were drooling on me mumbling about queso.”Cat rolled his eyes before taking a sip, the expression shockingly familiar to one Rictor’s own face could make.

That same damn eyeroll. No wonder Cable had wanted to throttle him when he did it. It was irritating as hell, but it also made him extremely proud. The pride only increased as Rictor realized something. Taking the phone out of his pocket he shoved gently at Cats shoulder. “Hey?” Catalyst looked over slightly baffled- the puppy expression “yes Julio?”

-Click-

Looking at the photo he smirked wryly. “You have marshmallow on your nose.” He warned before reaching over and wiping it off before Cat could, wiping it on his pants before ruffling that unruly head of hair. “You’re a mess kid.”

A solid stare of confusion.

“But you’re my mess.”

A small bashful smile.

* the title itself is a play off a 90′s phrase “so this one time at band camp” that my siblings used to use ALL THE FUCKING TIME. theyd come back from band camp and just babble constantly.

http://relaxing.ambient-mixer.com/camping background tunes, lol

#transientmutantdrabbles

1 note · View note

thekaiden-blog · 8 years ago

Text

The Kid Machine (Part 1)

So this is my first attempt at a VLD fanfic and using Tumblr so if you have any tips or anything hit me up. I will be posting more parts later.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Lance pov

“Ha take that!” Before anyone could blink the last shot i took ended up causing the entire battleship to explode before the ion canon was able to take a shot at the castle.

“Yeah good job Lance! That was a great shot!” Shiro said as i was doing my victory dance.

“Of course that awesome of shot could only come from someone equally as awesome.” i gloated because for once i was actually happy with what i managed to do.

“Wait then how did you make that shot?” Keith said instantly making me stop my dance whilst thoughts i tried to keep away started to come back full force.

“Shut it mullet youre just jealous you couldnt pull off that shot.” I instantly shot back at him. Before he had a chance to reply Shiro told us to stop arguing and get back to the castle which was now landed on the planet below us called Kuros. Keith didnt bother saying something again but i did manage to hear him growl lowly.

As we stepped out of our lions the aliens who inhabit Kuros, kurens as they are called, started swarming us and started dragging us to the castle where the king and queen would be holding a party for us. This one little alien seemed to be only a child about 3 followed me around for a little bit before he attatched himself to my leg and went with me where ever i went. The kid seemed like he was getting bored so i pulled him up until he was on my shoulders then started dancing around to the music that was playing. Eventually a song came on the required a partner so i forced the closest person to me, who happened to be Keith, to dance with us. “Lance what are you doing!? I cant even dance!” Keith yelled as i pulled him with us while i started spinning us around to the beat. “Relax, Keith and follow my lead.” The dance that went with this song was very fast beat and kind of hard to follow at first but watching the other partners i managed to get into the rhythm of the dance since it was quite repetitive. Keith was against it at first and kept trying to pull away but i think the fact that the Kuren child was enjoying himself and laughing quite loud convinced keith to just go along with what was happening. The party was going on for quite a while and i was getting bored so i grabbed onto Keiths arm while setting down the tired Kuren child and started pulling keith up the stairs to go exploring. “What are you doing?” He asked as we turned a corner. “I am taking you exploring!” “Well why are you taking me exactly?” He questioned while slightly trying to pull his arm out of my grasp but i just tighted my hold while still dragging him with me. “Well because you were the closest person to me duh.” I said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world but honestly i think it was the most obvious because thats how i roll. I heard him sigh but he let me pull him to where ever. im pretty sure he doesnt know his way around and if i know Keith he will just blame me if we get caught so itd be better for him to be with me for that to make sense. I found double doors at the end of the hall that just seemed to scream my name, ok not really i just liked how they were really pretty. why does a flipping door need to sparkle, like dude thats awesome! I pushed the doors open and walked in all excited and noticed the room was dark except for the light coming from huge windows on both sides of the room but there was only a tube looking machine in the center of the room. Confused i walked into the machine with keith still right behind me when i reached out to press a button but Keiths voice stopped me. “Maybe you shouldnt press that we dont know what itll do.” “Nah its okay its not like theyd have anything harmful where someone could just walk in and find it.” Before Keith could react i quickly pushed the button which caused the tube doors to close. We both started to bang on the glass but no one was around us and our helmet comms werent working in here so i turned back to the only button thats available to press. “Maybe theyll open if i pressed the button again?” “Nooo-” i cut Keith off mid sentance by hitting the button causing a red light to flash for a second. I quickly jumped back and grabbed Keith kinda scared on what was going to happen when the light stopped blinking and the door opened. We both basically threw ourselves out of the tube as quick as we could. The room was almost pitch black since the sun went down and no lights were on in the room when we suddenly heard Shiro talk. “Guys! Lance! Keith! Can you hear me where are you we are in front of the ship the parties over.” “Heyyy Shiro were here we can hear you we are on our way now.” I said really quick so he would stop yelling. “Yep we can hear you be there in a little bit.” Keith also replied at rhe same time. We both quickly let each other go then started walking out of the pitch black room when Keith spoke up again. “Lance stop screwing around let go of my leg.” “How the butts can i be touching you when im in front of you?” I asked really confused “Wait so that... Isnt you?” “Nope whatever that is isnt me.” I assured him. After those words were out of my mouth he quickly kicked whatever had a hold of his leg off of him then was about to take off running when i heard what sounded like crying from the direction the thing landed. Keith turned on the light in our suits while i moved toward the crying thing when the light reached the object i realized it was a human child who had short black hair and blue eyes lile my own he looked to be about 3 years old at least. “Keith you kicked a child a child do you hear me!” I exclaimed while picking up the child cuddling it to my chest softly repeating that its okay and he didnt mean it “Where the hell did it come from?” “Language Keith hes a child no cussing in from of him!” I took my eyes off Keith and turned my attention to the young boy in my arms. “Hello there. Can you tell me your name?” He looked at me confused then shrugged so i took a different approach. “Okay how about where are your parents little one?” At that his expression brightened and pointed to both keith and i. “Well obviously you and dad, papa!” After hearing that i froze and i could feel Keith tense up behind me. “I mean i can see it Keith he has your hair color and my eyes.” i said while turning so Keith could see the boy in my arms easier. “There is no way in hel-” I quickly interrupted him “no swearing in front of our child alright thats a bad word.” “Papa, dad said a bad word, is he mad at me? “The little boy was tearing up while looking up at me and i could feel my heart just breaking “No little one dads not mad at you are you keith?” I looked at him pointedly as if saying to go along with it. “Of course im not mad at you but i am sorry i kicked you i didnt realize that was you.” Keith said but im pretty sure hes warming up to our little angel already. Even though it is really weird knowing.i have a kid now and with Keith no less i dont mind because i already love our child even if the other parent is Keith. “Its alright dad im not mad at you as long as you arent mad at me!” The kid said smiling brightly. Keith pov After the kid who is apparently mine and ugh lances kid finished telling me hes not mad at me he smiled in a way that reminded me of Lance very big and very bright. “Papa i wanna go see dad can i please?” The kid started making what do you call them? Grabby hands at me wanting me to carry him. Lance just smiled at him and in that smile you could see that this kid was already the center of Lances world. “Of course little one off you go.” He started handing me the kid when we heard Shrio speak up so Lance froze with the child halfway to me. “Guys what is taking so long are you almost on your way?” “Uh yeah we ar- wait ok its ok i got you.” I tried answering but lance just thrusted the kid into my arms whilst i was mid sentance. "What who are you talking to?" “No dont touch that come on lets follow.... Yeah hes right there. I told the kid as Lance started walking away with my following before i remembered Shiro could here me and was probably even more confused then before “dont worry shiro we are on our way go on into the ship be there in a couple of minutes.” “Alright i guess if you say so…” was the only reply i got. You could hear the confusion in his voice before i turned the comms off and started chasing Lance to catch up to him when the kid spoke up “Papa wait up youre going to fall.” that was all it took for Lance to stop so we could catch up. “Sorry bought that bud i promise ill stay closer this time alright?” The kid seemed happy with that answer so he cuddled up to me making me smile. As we were about to enter the castle the kid muttered about where we were and how pretty the castle is.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith (voltron)#lance #keith kogane #kid machine #shiro #pidge #takashi shirogane #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett #hunk #klance #langst

1 note · View note

angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

Text

ask your destiny to dance [17] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

It takes Roger exactly two weeks to realise he doesn’t know Ash nearly as well as he thought he did. There’s a lot to glean about a person from their room, and what they say, but not everything, not even close to everything.

“So I guess you’re working tomorrow?” Roger asks, leaning against the bar as Ash polishes a glass. It comes as a surprise when she makes a face, shaking her head. “We’re going on a pub crawl, if you wanna come along then.”

Ash takes her time before answering, hanging up the glass and pulling another from the rack before she finally speaks.

“I can’t, I’m busy, sorry.” And she sounds... uncomfortable about it. Roger’s never known her to be uncomfortable about anything that didn’t relate to her home life, and she can see the moment he jumps to that conclusion. “I’m going to Paris in the afternoon,” she says quickly, and Roger’s taken aback, “I don’t get home until late; train times, you know?”

“A day trip to Paris?” He asks, and Maureen leans over to Ash with a small smile.

“Is that where you go on those Saturdays? That’s cute, Ash, little routine trips to France.” She flicks Ash with the end of her tea towel, to which Ash smiles despite herself, blushing and flicking Maureen back.

“Oi, I’m just going to Paris, nothing cute about it. I’m allowed to have hobbies, you know.” She argued back, and Maureen snickered, smiling fondly at the ginger before she tucked her tea towel into her back pocket and went back to cutting lime wedges. “I’m going to The Louvre.” Ash explained to Roger, cheeks still faintly pink.

“The Louvre?” There was a surprise in his voice that Ash had expected, and when she looks up at him, she still seems a bit defensive.

“There’s free entry once per month; first Saturday at six.” She pauses, and when his expression brightens, hers falls and she feels like she’s said too much.

“Do you go every month?” He sounds delighted at the prospect, and Ash wants to defend herself, but then he says, “you shouldn’t be catching the train so late, it’s dark even at six, love, you must get home at like midnight; just let me drive you.”

“Rog, you don’t need to do that,” but her grin is more relieved than anything else, the tension leaving her shoulders as she goes back to her work, “you guys are going out tomorrow, and besides, it’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

“I can get on the piss with them any time; this only happens once a month.” And the way his words make Ash smile, quietly pleased, he’s already pretty sure it’s going to be worth it.

Things between them have been... weird. Good weird, sure, but that doesn’t make them less weird. They haven’t really had time for an actual date yet, they just sort of show up at each other’s homes and watch TV and make out whenever they don’t have work or rehearsals of a night. It’s been good, it’s felt safe.

When Ash sits on the curb outside of her dorm, she feels nervous more than anything else. It’s not a feeling she’s used to; she’s never been nervous around Roger before; it takes her probably too long to realise how much she wants this to go well. When he shows up, just after midday, he’s beaming from the second hand station wagon that he’d gotten since recording the album. There’s a map in the passenger seat.

“I’ve driven there before, but not for a while, you’re going to have to direct me.” He advises as she buckles her seat belt, putting her sketchbook and thermos by her feet and unfolding the map.

It’s a long drive, just over five hours, and Ash is nervous for about three of them, which is only compounded by getting lost twice, and eventually Roger pulls over.

“You’ve been tense since I showed up; what’s wrong?” He asks, and Ash sighs heavily, picking up her thermos and pouring herself a small cup of tea.

“I don’t exactly go blabbing about the fact that I make semi-frequent trips to Paris, alright?” Ash admits, and she takes a sip of her drink, looking out through the windshield. Roger’s not sure what that means, how to respond, and after a minute, she adds, “Freddie doesn’t even really know.” And she finishes the tea, putting the thermos back, and Roger’s still quiet. When she finally looks at him, his expression is fondly amused.

“You’ve made me feel all special.” It’s far too genuine to be a joke, and Ash lets herself smile back, rolling her eyes at him.

“Don’t let it go to your head.” She warned, and Roger’s smile sharpened as he pulled back onto the road.

“Too late.” But he reaches over to rest his hand on her knee as she opens the map up again, and her heart grows warm, her anxiety easing. They turn up the radio for the rest of the trip; Ash hums along to the songs she only knows the tune of without too much hassle, yet somehow can’t seem to actually sing a note to save her life. She finishes butchering Elton’s Crocodile Rock at the top of her lungs, and Roger’s sides hurt from laughing, and she’s grinning in a way that means she knows exactly how terrible she is and how much it amuses Roger.

“I have other skills.” She says dismissively, grinning with her nose in the air as the radio host announces another song, and instead of answering, Roger sings along to the radio like he’d written the melody himself. “Showoff.” Ash laughed, and Roger’s eyes crease as he grins.

“I don’t have other skills, I gotta make use of this one.” He replied, lightly, and Ash’s expression softened.

“Oh shut it, you’ve got at least two other skills, probably.” She played along with his joke, watching him as he sings along to the rock song blaring from the radio, and it’s relaxed and easy, and she finds herself wondering why she’d been so worried just a few hours before.

They hit Paris at a quarter to six, and grab some fast food before heading to the gallery. There’s people everywhere, and the line isn’t exactly short to get in, more than a few of them are uni students like them, looking to get in for free, and Ash says hi to a few; the fact that she goes here enough to know other people who do this regularly to is still something that baffles Roger a little. He’s worried she’s getting nervous again when she takes his hand - they’re not the sort of people who hold hands - but when he looks at her, her eyes are shinning and bright as she looks up at the building; she’s excited.

Ash goes quiet in the gallery, looking around with wide-eyed reverence at the works around them. They move past the entrance slowly; Ash gazes at the works with their plaques memorised, while Roger reads them, fingers laced with hers.

“Oh, hello.” Voice reverential, Ash greets a statue at the end of the hall like an old friend, and introduces Roger as such. “This is the Venus de Milo, she’s almost two thousand years old, god, look at that marble work, imagine how sharp it would have looked back then,” and then it’s like she’s opened a floodgate, and she’s tugging him along, rambling along the way about each piece they pass, little facts not on the plaques, things she can cite from the top of her head. Above everything, she’s passionate, pulling out of his grip to clutch her hands to her chest and looking up at headless sculpture of what Roger thinks is an angel, and what Ash clarifies to be The Winged Victory of Samothrace.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Ash’s moon-eyed gaze was focused on the statue’s marble garments, but Roger’s only got eyes for her. When he doesn’t answer, she looks to him, catches the way he’s smiling at her, and she feels her cheeks heat up. “What?”

“You really love this stuff, don’t you?” It’s a sincere question, and it’s as if he can see her responses flit through her mind, sarcastic, dismissive, an eye roll, flippant, she passes them all, takes a moment to really look at him, taking her time to breathe in the whole situation before responding.

“More than anything.” It’s a sincere answer, and it catches him off-guard. Ash is many things, but unapologetically enthusiastic is not one Roger’s familiar with.

Turning on her heel, Ash leads further in to the gallery, but it’s finally hits him how much this means to her, this place, these works, bringing him here. They’d been together for barely a fortnight, but they both know it’s felt so much longer than that; she’d taken a gamble, bringing him, he has no doubt she’d have left him in London if she didn’t want him to come along, and something tightens in his chest.

He doesn’t dwell on it, he takes it in stride well enough, peppering her with questions along the way that she seems thrilled to answer. Tucking her arm into his, they make their way through the building, the babbling turning to banter easily as Roger provides his own commentary on each piece as they pass, which serves to make Ash laugh.

They get to a small painting on the top floor with a border that looks bigger than the picture itself, and Ash has gotten quiet again.

“Who’s this?” Roger asks, the two of them stepping close to get a closer look.

“The Lacemaker.” Ash sounds a little awed, and when he looks down at her, Roger sees how fondly she’s smiling at the little painting. “She’s my favourite.”

“’course she is, she’s like you.” Roger answers easily, and Ash makes a face, laughing a little self consciously.

“No she’s not, shut up.” She doesn’t sound like she believes him, a bit of a laugh in her words, but she’s resting her head against Roger’s shoulder and he wraps an arm around her.

“Same focus.” Roger muses, and when Ash looks to him, surprise and confusion on her face, he just grins. “When you sew, you’ve got the same look on your face, same focus.” He explains, and there’s something in Ash’s awed expression that he can’t place, and she pulls away from him too fast for him to really identify it.

She’s pretty sure she loves him.

It’s fucking terrifying.

She can’t look at him, stepping out of his grip as she feels tears well in her eyes as her emotions overwhelm her, not that it’s an uncommon occurrence, Ash has never set foot in an art gallery and not cried, but Roger didn’t need to know that. She’d really been doing well today, too. Usually she gets lost in the scope and detail of The Wedding at Cana, or even comes to obsess over the little details of The Lacemaker, but she’s also usually alone and can get away with it.

“That’s- Rog, that’s really sweet of you to say.” And he can hear in her voice that she’s trying not to believe him, that she can’t let herself believe him. And when she turns back, she’s wiping at her eyes, and he wants to try and comfort her, but she’s already walking past him briskly, leading to the next painting.

“There’s something I’ve... well, I’ve always wanted to try here.” He hears her say, voice firm as if she’s trying to move quickly past whatever the moment she’d just had was. She leads not to the painting, but to one of the weirdly low, backless sofas that are scattered around for people to view the paintings from. This one’s empty; Ash looks around for security, and seeing none, steps up onto it.

“And what’s that?” He asks with a smirk, the sofa giving her only about two inches of height on him. He doesn’t ask why she’d almost started crying, and for that she’s thankful. Instead, his hands come to rest on her hips, and he’s smiling at her in that way that sets her heart aflutter.

“Don’t ruin this.” She warns very quietly, amused smile on her lips, and Roger quirks an eyebrow.

“Ruin what?” He asks, shooting for innocent, a million different things running through his mind that could make her smile, but would definitely ruin the moment; he bites his tongue.

Ash cups his face in her hands, and she can’t help but laugh as she leans in to kiss him. It starts sweet and tender, her lips soft against his, but he wraps his arms around her, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. There’s people moving around them, most ignoring them, some stare, but neither of them seem to care. She tastes mostly like the tea she’d sculled in the car when they’d arrived, and she’s got a hand in his hair when he presses kisses from her jaw, trailing down her neck, and she laughs, a little giddy. He pulls back, if only to see her bright eyed and blushing.

“Let’s go home.” She says softly, and Roger’s never agreed to something so quickly, his heart elated to see Ash giggling and mischievous as they backtrack through the gallery, knowing that he and the art were the things that made her smile like that.

“I didn’t ruin it.” He sounds a little smug when he says it as they walk through the streets of Paris back to his car, and Ash glances at him out of the corner of her eye, snorting.

“I could see you holding yourself back from a one-liner about pinning masterpieces to walls or something like that; I appreciate your discretion.” She tells him, deadpan, and Roger gives her a self-satisfied grin.

“It certainly wasn’t easy.” He agrees, but she still reaches out and takes his hand. When they get to his car, he goes to head around to the driver’s side, but she pulls him back for a moment, pressing a kiss to his lips. After a moment, he’s got a hand on her hips, pressing her against the side of the car, and she sighs against his lips, her arms around his neck. Her legs slide open easily as she pulls him closer, letting him slide a knee between her thighs.

“Christ,” Roger breaks away from the kiss, murmuring the word against her neck as her nails graze his scalp.

“Thank you for today.” She whispers softly, and he can hear the smile in her words. He presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“Any time, love.” He steps back from her, enough to see her fond smile, and to give one in return, before he heads around to the driver’s side and they both get in the car.

It’s well past midnight by the time they get back, and Ash follows Roger up to his flat with a yawn, flinching as the door opens and Brian, Freddie, and John all greet them with a cheer, obviously taking a pit stop in the middle of their pub crawl.

“I was starting to sober up; the walk between the last pub and the next is directly smack bang in the middle of here.” Freddie claims with a surprising amount of confidence considering his words make no sense.

“No- this place is on the way to the next pub.” John corrects, and Ash has to giggle at the sight and sound of a drunk John Deacon. It never fails to amuse her, he’s surprisingly confident and well spoken.

“Yes! Deaky is right! You two can join us!” Freddie brandishes and subsequently spills on Brian, who’s sitting beside him.

“Go if you want, I’m knackered.” Ash yawns, giving Roger’s shoulder a nudge, moving past him to his room.

“Actually, I think I’m right, I’ve been driving for a while,” Roger says, making to follow Ash, only to hear Freddie boo loudly, and John call out after them.

“Where’d you guys go?” He asks, and Roger answers over his shoulder.

“Art gallery.” He answers, and he hears Ash snort from his bedroom.

“That’s... Rog, that’s surprisingly cute, didn’t know you had it in you.” Brian smiles at him, and Roger feels a little patronised by the pride in his flatmate’s voice. He flips Brian off, along with the rest of them, since John was grinning like the cat who got the cream and Freddie looked like he was three seconds away from actually ‘awe’ing.

“Did you kids have fun?” Freddie calls, sounding nothing so much like his own mother, wearing a shiteating grin, which only got wider as Roger told him to piss off, slamming the door once he got into his room.

Ash was standing by his bed, pulling off the shorts she’d been wearing all day, already wearing one of his shirts. Roger can hear the others on the other side of the door already laughing and talking about something else, all three of them trying to convince themselves to get up and move on to the next pub. She gives him an amused smile and Roger just rolls his eyes at his friends’ whole situation.

They don’t speak, though Ash’s yawn triggers one in Roger, and when he’s stripped down to his boxers, she’s waiting for him beneath the covers. When he kisses her, it’s a thank you for the day, and she hums a soft, contented noise against his lips. They’re too tired to even fool around, and Ash wraps her arm around him as he turns to lay on his side, pressing her chest to his back, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade before they fall asleep.

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee @smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings @2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times @heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues @banhbao329 @fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric @rogmobile @cardybenhardy @snacfu @perriwiinkle @the-strange-fan-girl @finite-incantatem-7 @tapetayloe @florencewelchismybiggod

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #ask your destiny to dance fic #the angry lizard writes

138 notes · View notes

demiboypercyjackson · 8 years ago

Note

I loved your bpd solangelo can you do first fight?

YES!!! headcanon that they bicker quite a lot and they know its all silliness and its actually quite cute, but then their Actual Fights are... not really fights? id imagine they have little emotional tiffs that are so, so messy. bpd makes everything so messy. i'll write more about Lashing Out soon but this time is for soft boys being very borderline written by me, your local bpd soft boy-their first real fight is actually over the "you were looking at paolo" thing. bpd = jealous out the whazoo and nico's whazoo is doing a pretty good impression of piper's horn of plenty, except instead of sweet ham and delicious fruit, its horrible feelings of self-doubt and abandonment.will was being honest when he said he was just watching to make sure they were functioning. when he has an fp (see; nico di angelo), he stops being even slightly attracted to other people. he sees a disgustingly handsome man in a gorgeous suit? "wow that would look great on nico" he gets 10k love letters from the worlds most beautiful russian models? "itd be so dreamy if nico wrote me letters like that..." david bowie descends from the heavens and pleads with will to run away with him and be his lawfully wedded husband? "oh man, i should show nico bowie's albums.... we could cuddle while we listen!!! eep!!!" so, in short, will isnt really capable of wanting anyone else.he doesnt think much of nico being jealous, he himself gets jealous often, and he assumed they're okay, until much later when everything settles and then nico starts acting kind of distant. will is mostly supportive, but when your fp isnt giving you attention, it is Hell, and you can get a mixture of defensive and self-hatred pretty quickly. "oh god i did this. why does he hate me? because im the most unlovable thing on the planet" stuff like that.so, nico sneaks away into his cabin for the night without saying goodnight or even telling will he's leaving and will's mind immediately explodes into questions of "does he hate me?" "did i mess up?" "is he going to break up with me?"cecil, who is like, his designated 'Handler' - "i cannot believe you just called yourself that" "have you SEEN?? the way you ACT sometimes?? there isnt a logical bone in your body, solace." "okay, granted, but still" - tells him to calm down, let nico have his space, they can talk tomorrow and everything will be okay. will agrees, nodding, and accepts the big hug cecil gives him. the attention is nice, and knowing his friend actually cares about him makes things a little better.syke will totally leaves for the cabin as soon as cecil is gone because he needs nico now and he needs to know why this is so BAD and why nico would leave like thatso he shows up and knocks on the door and his hands are shaking and he cant think very good and his eyes are kind of unfocused and wow this wasnt a great idea but to his feelings-addled brain it is the best idea in the world!!! because bpd just goes and Does That and who gave you the right, honestly. nico answers the door and he doesnt meet will's eyes or really look at him"what?" he says. his voice sounds annoyed and tired and will pulls a full 180 and immeditely wants to fall down and sob because this was a horrible idea, solace, what the hell were you thinking?"im sorry," he says immediately, voice very little. "im sorry." he's doing the thing where he becomes a broken record. he doesnt know what he did, but if it made nico sound like that, then he's sorry. he'll do better. he'll be better.nico's lip kinda curls up a little. he looks empty. 'he's isolating' says will's logic brain. 'he hates you' says will's personality disorder. "why are you sorry?" says will's equally borderline boyfriend.will opened and closes his mouth a few times and looks around, lost. "i dont know. can i come inside? we can stay outside. what do you like? you dont have to answ-""i dont care." says nico and will's whole heart shatters in his chest. "do what you want.""im sorry," says will again. "can i come inside? im sorry"nico moves over so will can come in but its so hard to walk in there. he remembers that thats where nico is and his legs carry him very quickly into the cabin."are you angry?" he asks, and nico kind of shrugs a little. will doesnt know what to say. "its okay to be angry.""how come you were looking at paolo?" nico asks and will's logic brain screams 'yes! see! he's just jealous like you get! its okay!' but bpd makes every feeling in your body so big and so loud and will is so certain that that cant be it, he's being selfish and arrogant for thinking that way. obviously, nico is asking for a different reason."because i put his arms back on and i wanted to make sure i did it good." he cant really hear what hes saying but he means it. he wonders if telling the truth is manipulative. he wonders if talking at all is the wrong thing or the right thing. he wants to ask nico whats better because nico is so smart and so good, but he's afraid to because nico is angry (hurt) and he doesnt want nico angry (afraid) and he doesnt want to lose nico (his beloved, his angel), so he doesnt ask."okay." says nico, and will doesnt know what to say now."are you angry?" he asks instead, because its bad to jump to conclusions, cecil has taught him that. 'ask questions', his logic brain tells him, and boy does it sound like cecil markowitz. 'gauge the situation logically, get all the facts. figure out whats going on before you act.' all will wants to do is throw himself down and beg nico not to leave. but that would be bad. right? manipulative. is asking questions manipulative?"im not mad." says nico and his face looks a little more sad and less far away. "its fine."will shifts a little and his head itches but he doesnt scratch it. "what kind of fine? are you sure you arent mad? did i upset you?" he wants to scratch but hes kind of afraid to. he doesnt know why. he scratches it very quickly and watches to make sure nico isnt upset with him for doing that."no." says nico and its so obviously a yes that will could laugh. it brings him back to his head a little and he looks at nico's face carefully."did i make you jealous?" he asks and recieves no answer. "i dont like paolo. i like your arms. i dont even know what he says when he talks."nico whispers something in italian and will cant tell if its him lashing out or him showing a bit of humor. possibly both."please dont be mad" he says, because he cant help it. he immediately feels guilty about it, its manipulative, right? its bad to ask that. "im sorry."nico shifts his weight a little and he still looks isolate-y and far away and it makes will's Feelings get bigger again and he tries to ignore them but its hard. "its okay" nico says again. "im not mad.""i dont like paolo.""i know.""i like you. nico. my favorite person in the whole world. i love you."nico's lips twitch a little but he has a scared look in his eye that will didnt notice before. "i know.""dont han solo me," he says as softly as he can.nico has a little humor in his eyes, but not much. he looks tired, which will doesnt, and kind of lost, which will does. "im sorry.""its okay."they dance around like that for a while until will sits down on the floor because his legs are tired and nico, reacting, takes a seat on the bed he usually sleeps on. it takes a while, but eventually nico comes back to himself a little.he looks nervous, but his dark eyes look alive again, if sad and a little heartbroken, and he tells will he's sorry again. "i dont mean to get like that. i know you dont like it.""its okay. im sorry i made you jealous and didnt think about it. next time you say stuff like that, ill try harder to make sure you know i only like you."nico blinks in surprise a little and is kind of quiet. then, he murmurs, "youre perfect" in a voice thats both laugh-angry and grateful.will snorts and shakes his head vehemently. "you're more perfect." he crawls quickly over and sits next to nico on the bed without thinking about performing the act.nico smiles a little and leans his head on will's shoulder, smiling. "you're ... the most perfect." he grabs his hand and holds it tightly and their hands seem to fit perfectly together to both of them. "i love you. i love you.""i know," says will teasingly, and nico pretends to bite his shoulder in revenge. the feelings were still big, for now, but they were good feelings, and theyd calm down soon enough. theyd spend the night curled up together, and when will would relay the story to cecil later on, the red-haired son of hermes would roll his eyes and sigh. but all would be well.-so this is probably way too long but im very gay and very borderline....... alfhsks hope you enjoy >:3c and if it isnt exactly what you were looking for, youre alway welcome to drop another ask in! - mod will

16 notes · View notes

kyskingdom · 5 years ago

Text

Harmonize. (First book I ever wrote. age 9)

Its quite here. There is no noise, except Gala snoring next to me. A car pulls into the drive, Gala snaps awake and growls at the noise. The person in the car is Emily, my sister. She "accidently" left her wedding ring here last time she visited. I think she just wanted a reason to come home again. Just a few weeks ago, Emily married Tom, a semi-truck driver who treats her amazing. They go everywhere together, which is why Emily needed an excuse to come home. I hear the front door open, and I hear her shoes on the floor. She knocks on my door. But walks in immediately after. So the knock was pretty pointless. Why is she In my room though? I told her where the ring was when we were on the phone earlier. I tried to make it sound like I wasnt going to be home. Its not like I dont love my sister, I just dont want to talk to her right now. I dont know why. But I don't. She stands in the door way and stares at me, I stare at the floor. "Selina, what is it?" Said Emily making her way to my side. "Nothing." Emily started poking my arm, trying to get my attention. I pretended not to feel Emily, though it was getting very annoying. "What is it? You can tell me." Oh! Wow! Yes! I'm just gonna tell you everything! "I dont know,I guess I just want to be able to support myself." I cringe, that's the best my brain can come up with? Pathetic. "What? You already support yourself." Okay, I'm getting pretty annoyed, just play along! "No I'm mean, completely support myself, like, in my own house..." That part wasnt a lie, I do want my own place. "Well, just, I don't know, just dont rush yourself." I looked up at Emily, I know why she has someone and I dont, she is stunningly pretty. I have always thought she was beautiful, her freckles around her nose, the short wavy auburn hair that hang over her shoulders. Like our mom. I dont look like them. My features are plain. I'm sometimes feel invisible, like my face has been used too many times. "Well," I said "I've gotta get to work." "You know," said Emily ,"you shouldn't be working two jobs at 19." I work one, so I correct her. "I only work one." I try to say this as serious as possible, but its hard to when Mary is such a wonderful woman. "Oh right, 'taking care of Mary isn't a job' right?" Emily said in an awful, what I would guess to be an impression of me. "Well, it isn't." I turned and grabbed my purse from the dresser, as Emily was passing me to leave. I walked out after Emily, who turned for the door, after she said goodbye to mom. My mother is wearing a scowl, one she saved for a very specific person, this cant be good. Or it might be really good! "Mary Rogers called last night, Saphy got her driving license so she'll be taking care of her now." Saphy, that little...I decide not to discuss her right now, I already know my mom hates her as much I do, so I play it off as if I'm talking about someone pleasent. "I thought Saphy was in Florida? Remember, she thought she was too good for Louisiana?" I always thought Louisiana was a great place for everyone to live, turns out, pretty-in-pink barbie dolls hate it here. "She's coming back to town, Her friends and her got in an argument, well a 'life crisis' if you ask her." Mom smiled at the 'life crisis' part, I really dont know why though. Other then to, I dont know, add something interesting to the conversation. Her and Emily talk the same way, while smiling. "Right, I need to get to work." I hugged her and headed for the door. I think about Mary on my way to work, A 98 year old woman who always insisted on me calling her 'aunt'. The first time we met, I had about 20 cats circling my feet, all meowing, Mary came down the stairs with a little furball kitten in her hand. It was the cutest thing I have ever seen! I smiled, remembering how sweet Mary was, but the smile quickly faded. Unfortunately, everyday I have to pass the road where my dad was killed by a drunk driver, I was around 8, sitting in the back seat, singing along to the radio, when a loud screeching sound rang in my ears, then glass reflected red and blue lights on the dashboard. I pulled into the small parking lot of the restaurant I work at, it was just me and Dolores, the cook, and like 5 people that wanted a coffee refill for the road. I normally just read, but I am fresh out of books, so I need to make a deal, I go around my school and ask people for their books, with the promise that I will do the book report, but its summer, and nobody has book reports in the summer. I was brought out of my day-dream feeling my phone buzz, my mom. "hey are you busy?" Nope, just busy with my book-dealer thoughts! "Its never busy here mom." I thinks thats less of a crazy answer, right? "Right, well, Someone just called, He needs a new caretaker." He? I specificaly put on my resume 'Woman Only!' But the resume only exists in my head, and as far as I know, people cant see into my brain place, not that theyd want to, my train of thought often crashes into the Great Wall of Stupid, and repairs take a while. "Do I know him?" That was a stupid question! No, of course you dont know, you have conversations in your head like this one to avoid talking to real people! "I don't think so,his name is Brian Elderson,He just dropped outta college." College?? How old is this guy? I should make friends with him, enough money to drop out of college! "College?How old is he?" "I'd guess about 18-20." Woah, what? Why? And how? "Okay, what is wrong with him?" That sounded insensitive, but mom knows what I mean, I hope. "He was paralyzed in a car crash, I dont think hes gonna be as easy, he was one of those hard-headed and strong-going kids, and now he thinks he useless." Hmm...did she Google him or something? "How do you know all this?" "Hes one of my co-workers son." Mom dosent care for her co-workers, but I've never heard the name 'Elderson' Before. "I've never heard you talk about anyone named Elderson." "I didn't even know he existed, but he over heard Elly and I talking about you and Mary." Elly was Mary's younger sister, though they didn't talk much, Elly was still acting like she was 20, Elly and Mary still cared about each others well being. A woman just walked in the door, and headed to the back corner table. "alright I've gotta go, an alien just walked in." Mom must have understood, because she hung up, or she was afraid it wasn't me talking and someone possessed me, either way I would be happy with. I went to take the woman's order, but before I could speak, the woman said "eggs and toast." I honestly dont know what I expect. We have menus glued under the glass tables. Do people know we serve other things then eggs? I relayed it to Dolores, who was dancing in the kitchen, but stopped immediately when she saw me. "Who is it?" Asked Dolores "Dunno, but she looks rich and official." " 'Rich and official' only you could come up with that." I rolled my eyes and went back to my barstool, and stare at the counter, it has a very interesting design, but not really. Rich and official. Those were the first words that came to my mind when I looked at her, She had blazing red hair and a black jumpsuit, she reminded me of a certain book charecter. I grab the plate of food Dolores slid on the counter in front of me, interupting my disecting of the counter design, and went back to the table and offered it to the woman. I handed it to the woman and went back to the barstool, the counter isnt as interesting anymore, but I continue to stare anyway. Me and Dolores spent the next half hour peeping around the corner at the woman like cannibals, but, she never came back, and we were back to the same few customers. This place is going to go bank-rupt soon, and there is nothing I can do about it, the helpless feeling is the worst, like theres a hole in my chest that little helpless bugs lay eggs. "Well, That kinda sucks." said Dolores "Yeah, What can we do about it though?" I say like wasn't just invisioning little mosquito like bugs laying eggs inside my heart. "What we need is a fundraiser." said Dolores. "Fundraiser? Like anyones gonna buy from our bakestand when they have way better food." I said pointing down the road at our rival restaurant rival. "Who said I was talking about a bakestand?" Oh, my brain just automatically guessed a bakestand since that's what most normal people do, my mistake. "Well what were you thinking?" "Dunno, Any ideas?" Well, then I guess we're going with the cookies and a wood stand! "No, not really." I say. "Do you know anyone who might be able to lend us some money even for a paint job?" Hmm...let me think, like anyone can afford paint around here, living in a poor town! Just peachy! "Everyone I know can't even afford their own paint." "That's what happens in a poor town, right?" Oh crap! She can read minds! Take cover! All my psycho thoughts hide under the tables! "Yeah." The door opens and coffee refills walk in the door, not literally, but that's all they ordered. “”“ "Well, I'm checkin' out for the day." said Dolores, she says it as if I dont know that she always leaves at the same time every day. "Yep, I'll just clean up and I'm leaving too." So I headed over to the one table that woman sat at and wiped it off, there really isnt anything else to do, so I head to my car. When I walked in the door, Gala greeted me by licking my face, she was tall enough when she stood on her back feet, as I am freakishly short for someone my age. Mom came out of her bedroom, carying her purse and her phone in the other, she looked disoriented about something. "Feeling alright mom?" Mom let out a sigh, this cant be good, she uselly only wears that face when somethings wrong, or she had a bad day at work, but thats pretty much the same thing. "Mary" She says. Mary what? Is she okay? "Is she okay?" "Kind of, she had a heart attack last night, the hospital just released her this morning to a nursing home." "They probably should have released her yet, right?" "No, they shouldn't have, but they dont think she has too much longer to live" Her voice wobbles at the end of her sentence, Even though Mary was old, she was still very close my mom and I, so losing her would be purely awful. "We're going to see her, right?" I dont know why I said that, we are obviously going to see her. "You think I'm gonna leave her by herself?" I feel worse with my mothers reply, it was rather harsh, so I know she is worried. "Your right,that was a stupid question" I followed her quietly to her car. She turned the key, it cranked and cranked, but didnt start. "We'll take my car." I say after mom gave up, the battery has been needing jumped every day for a while, and company's wont lower the flipping price of car batterys! It was a quiet and awkward ride, the home was about an hour away, sometimes its nice to just get in tje car and ride, with no plan as to where you re going, or what your even doing. But this is not a relaxing ride, Mary is laying in a hospital bed, probably not feeling too good, and she likes to talk to anyone and everyone, but shes probably by herself right now. Sometimes we can pull a radio signal, so I try, but I regret it. 'Deeper than The Holler' came on, it was mom and Dads song when they were in high school. Tears were swelling up in moms eyes, tears like a blade piercing my heart, slow and painful. I turned it off, I miss him too much, and its not safe to drive for my mom to drive with blurry vision. I clear my throat. "I'm sorry." Tears roll down my face as I choke on the words. "Sometimes," mom says "we need to let go, and get over the past, to be able to live in the present." She reached forward and turned the radio back up. I can't believe she just did that. The song that brought back so many memories, them dancing in the living room every time time it came on, their wedding song. She turned it back on. After my heart was drained of anything happy, she had the strength to turn it back on. She knew him better then I did. She went on trucking trips with him, he was a trucker. After Emily was born, Mom ha to stay home, every once in a while she would go with him. After I was born, she went with him even fewer places. Then Dylyla came along, Mom couldnt go at all. Dylyla doesnt even live with us anymore, she lives with Grandma. It really makes me mad when I think of it, mom wanted her to get her grades up, or she was going to make her take a break from cheerleading. Dylyla hated mom after that, but Grandma didnt help at all, she said Dylyla could live with her and not worry about education. “”“ One of the home workers led us to Mary's room. I followed mom and Alice, the worker, down a brown hallway, it smells like a Bingo room, anything that smelled nice before, was now overpowered by cheap perfume. Alice left us at the doorway, Mom headed in first. "How are you?" Mom asked, I just hovered around the end of the bed, like a bee unsure of itself, that is what I am, always unsure, of everything. Thats the thing about life, you may think its certain, but I've learned that it never is, its always changing, just like the tide, the whales are so sure they won't be beached, yet they still are. I realize mom and Mary are deep in conversation, I dont really hear it though. Finally, Mary looks away from Mom. "Well don't act like a stranger! Get over here!" I smile, makeing my way to hug her, she is always so happy. "Oh I missed you! That girl does nothing but chatter on her darn ol'phone!" I feel bad, I didn't realize that it had been so long since Saphy has been taking care of her, well, only two days, but still. I used to think your heart couldn't actually feel anything, it was just you telling yourself it could, but I was wrong. I walk over to chair in the corner of the room and sit down. I am not, will not, cry, not here, not for Mary to see. I feel the pain, the pain people talk about. The heartbreak. I didnt think it was possible, but it is. I dont want it to be, but it is, and there's nothing I can do. The door to the room is still open, I decide to close it, but as I do, I see a little girl, 10 maybe. She is crying. I can only imagine what for, but it can't be good. As quiet as I can, I make my way back to the chair, trying not to interupt the conversation they are back into. I can't feel anything. If I let any feelings in, they will all crumble. I straighten in my chair, put on a face, and push every feeling out, every last one. It worked, I have been trying it a lot lately, and it works now. ”“”“” I woke up at 4:00 the next morning. I dont need to be at work for another hour, but I decided to go in early. I dont think I can talk to Mom right now, she'll just try to comfort me, and words arent what I need right now, words are powerful, but not as powerful as a hug, or a day in the rain with a good book. I got out of bed and looked in the mirror, my cheeks are still blotchy from last night, I layed in bed and cried myself to sleep. It is very obvious now. I throw on some makeup, just concealer to cover up the redness. Very quietly let Gala outside, I dont want to wake mom, she has the day off. Once Gala is back in, I lead her back to moms room and close the door. ”“”“ As I pull around the corner to the restaurant parking lot, I notice how bland it looks. It kind of hides. It definitely needs an update. I make a quick turn to the dollar store, I know they have like tablecloths and stuff, but I dont know what to do for the outside. ”“”“ There are now tablecloths for all the tables, curtains hanging on the outside of the windows, it actually looks really nice. I also bouhht one of those door frame floral tapestry things. Dolores pulls in as I put on some coffee. "Well, well, Somebody's been doing some shopping!" Said Dolores as she came in the door. "Do you like it?" I ask "Yes! It looks so much better, I thought the place had been demolished and rebuilt!" "It doesnt look that different." In fact, it hardly looks different at all. But it is more noticeable, which is what I was going for. Noticeable, but not in your face, like the place down the road. Dolores went back out to her car, she fumbled around for a long time, then re-entered with a bundle of wires and metal. "Its a radio." she announced like it was gold. "Where did you get that?" "I uh, acquired it." I smile. "You didnt steal it, did you?" I ask raising my eyebrows. "No! Well, maybe, my Ex's truck quit running so I ripped this thing out before we broke up." "And you kept it?" I ask. "Of course I kept it! I also kept his 50 inch TV he just had to have!" She scowls, I knew she hated him, but not that much. She looks at me and lifts a finger to point at me. "Dont you dare say 'I told you so'!" "Well, if you had listened-" I smile and bite my lip at her face, like A warning from an angry toddler. I'm trying so hard to hold in a laugh that I almost choke. "Stop! Its not funny!" Dolores exclaims. "You're right, its not funny. Not one bit." Then we both laugh. After a while, it turns into us doubled over with our mouths open like sick walruses. There no audible laughs. I can only imagine what we look like right now. Crap. Someone just came in the door, Dolores walks to the stove, hiding behind the wall, but I can still hear her laughing. I take a deep breath and walk over to the guys table. "What so funny?" He asks with a smile. "Actually," I say "I dont even know!" "One of those things, eh?" He says. "Yes. What would you like today?" "Eggs and coffee." He says. I walk to the coffee pot and pour a cup. When I go back to the table, he asks if I know his sister. "Whos your sister?" I ask, I already know I don't know her, but I dont what him to think I can read minds or do crazy crap like that. "Jane Brown" he says with a kind of longing in his eyes. "No, I don't think so." I know so, but he doesn't look too happy right now, nor does he look like he had a good relationship with her, since he hasnt looked up from his coffee. "Nah, I didn't figure, ain't nobody seen 'er." His eyes actually have tears in them. Should I sit down and comfort him? She I leave him to his feelings? I decide to pull out a chair and sit down, I still dont know if its a good call. "What does she look like?" I ask. "Hang on." he says as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone. He shows me a picture of a girl with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. "We weren't very close when we were kids, but just as we worked out our issues, she was gone." he says, his eyes not really focused on anything. "And did she she say where she was going?" "Oh, I know where she went, but she aint in good shape." I feel like I shouldnt ask any more, so I dont but soon he is deep in his story of his sister, how she got in an unhealthy relationship, and the guy "poisened her brain" And that she wouldnt be coming back anytime soon. And that he was hoping she would come back home soon. As he talks, I notice green flecks in his blue eyes. I look away from his eyes as I realize that I shouldnt be looking at a stranger that way. But he does look to be around my age. Stop thinking like that! I tell myself, but I dont listen. After he was finished talking, I say "You know, my little sister is like that, expects to have the world handed to her. She lives with my grandma now" He looks at me and smiles, a smile he has probably practiced in the mirror. "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?" He asks, still smiling. Heat rushes through my cheeks. I tuck my hair behimd my ear, hoping he doesnt notice how red my cheeks are. "No, why?" I shift in my chair. Yes, sitting down was the right choice. He laughs, a small laugh, but it sends a chill through my stomach. "I think you know why." He says. Now, the chill turns into a sickening feeling. I'm being called pretty by a stranger. Kind of creepy, ain't it? Dolores hollers around the corner. "Eggs and coffee on the love boat." I look back at him as I walk to get the plate, surprised to see him looking at me. "Thanks for that." I hiss at Dolores, who looks very pleased with herself. As I set the plate at his table, he looks at me, I'm not sure what to do, and I'm getting a little uncomfortable, I've never had an experience like this before. "I'm John, by the way." "Selina." I say and walk back to the kitchen and hide behind the wall. Dolores is plugging in the radio. I walk up behind her. "Dont you dare turn that on!" She looks up and smiles. "Why not?" She asks innocently. "Because the only station we can pull in is a love song station, and I know what you'll do!" "Okay, you dont have to lecture me!" "Okay, just...don't do anything." I walk over to a cormer amd lean up against the wall, I close my eyes. ”“”“” When I hear the bell above the door ring, I walk to clean up the table. I find a napkin with a phone number on it. I look behind me to make sure Dolores isnt watching, and shove the napkin in my pocket. I try to fight my smile, but I can't, so I just bite my lip to try to conceal it. I carry the plate and bill back and set them on the counter. I'll deal with it later. "Did he leave his number on the bill?" Dolores asks. "No," it isn't a lie, because it wasnt on tje bill. "And never will, so will you just knock it off?" "Ha! Not a chance." She answers. "Besides," she says "you could use some pointers." "Pointers? From the girl that just stole her Ex's radio?" "Hey! After 5 years of dealing with his crap, I think I have a right to a radio that was going in the dump anyway." I roll my eyes at her. I really wish I had a book that I could hide behind right now. Sadly, I still dont have any deals. Dolores is pulling out a small bag from her other huge bag. "How many bags do you have in one bag?" I ask. "7." She answers like its not obscure to carry around more than one huge bag. "What is that one for?" I ask. She pulled out a glittery purple one and set it on the counter. "If you want to make a good impression," She says. "For who?" I interrupt, I know who, and what, she means, but I'm never gonna even see him again anyway. "You know. The one you were just swooning over." "No," I say "I'm am not participating in your little plan here. Besides, you know how many girls he probably leaves his number to? Too many for me to care." She scans me like a lie-detector. But I'm not lying, I dont really want to be seeing someone who goes into random resteraunts and talks about his personal life to some waitress. I feel like I'm lying. But I'm not. Am I? No. Really though, who goes and tells a stranger about their psycho sister? Probably someone who will tell anyone anything, even if its none of their business. "Fine," Dolores says. "If you dont want a little romamce in your life, that's your choice." She says as she puts all her bags back in her bag. "That wasnt romance," I say, "That was a guy complaining about his sister. What's 'Romantic' about that?" She shrugs her shoulders. "I dont know, maybe because he chose you to talk to." "He didnt 'choose' me! Besides, if you would have went over there, he would have talked to you." "Okay then! Tomorrow, when he comes back, I will go wait on him, see what he says then." "You just do that," I say, sitting down on the barstool. "And good luck, because he wont be back." "Right." Dolores mumbles. But, I dont know what shes planning, because he aint gonna be back. Chapter 2 I get back in my car, and let out a sigh. I had a meeting with the Eldersons, I guess they wanted to see how I was, no one has ever wanted a visit before. Its refreshing to finally smell fresh air. The air in the house was full of air fresheners, I would almost bet that it smelled better without all the fragrances. They were pretty nice, I guess. Emma, Brians mom, asked me things like what I have in mind for my future amd small-talk like that. But nothing really related to care-giver work. Maybe she was just testing me. She is leaving her son with me, after all. “”“” When I get home, Mom is popping popcorn on the microwave. Gala is at her feet begging. "Gala! You user puppy!" I say as I bend down to pet her. "I figured we could use a movie night" Mom says as she piches the popcorn bag and puts it all in one big bowl. "We havent done that since Dylyla left." "No, we haven't, and since its just you and me, you can pick the movie." "You say that like you dont know what I will pick." My mom knows I have two favorite movies. That is one thing I told her. "Hm. Half-Blood Prince, or Divergent?" She asks. That is a hard choice, its been a while for both. "Which would you rather watch?" I ask "I cant make up my mind." She smiles, I already know what shes going to pick. "Harry Potter, Baby!" She says. ““”“ I wake up tired. We ended up watching all 8 Harry Potter movies, and all 3 Divergent Movies. We probably should have gone to bed earlier, but, we you are handed movies like that, theres no telling how long you'll be awake. We probably should have waited for the weekend. We both have to work today, and Emma wants to meet "Privatly without the family." I don't know what that's about, but I imagine since Colin, her youngest son, was being pretty distracting, she wants a more focused setting. We are meeting at a park at 3:00, but I dont get off until 4:00, so I'll have to talk to Dolores. She'll probably cover for me, not that it matters, no one is ever there. I slept through my alarm, so I hurry and dress, then run through the house like a ninja finding food. ”“” When I get there, Dolores is already there. Normally, I'm here way before she is. "Is everything alright?" She asks when I come in the door. "Yeah, Mom and I stayed up until 3:00 in the morning." I say as I tie on my apron. "Why in the world would you do that?" She asks. "Oh, you know, Harry Potter." I answer, smiling. "Ah, I see. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. Did you get a call last night?" She asks. I look at her questoningly. "What do you mean?" I ask. I feel clueless, like I should known what shes talking about. "Wow, you really must have missed a lot of sleep." She says. "I'm sorry, I'm not following you." I say. "Obviously! I'm talking about flirty-pants." I roll my eyes at her. She needs to drop it. "Will you please stop! This isnt some Insta-romance story. So knock it off, I already told you, hes probably some creeper. I'm not even looking for a relationship." I say to clear things up. I guess she took the hint because she just shook her head, but didnt say anything. I stay on the barstool for a while, but after a little bit, these seats get really uncomfortable. I go over to a booth and lay down. Before I know it I'm asleep, not remembering my last thought. I'm awoken by music blaring from the kitchen. Dolores must have gotten the radio working. I sit up, involuntarily groaning. I walk over to the kitchen, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and turn off the radio. Dolores comes out of the bathroom. "Why did you shut it off? And why do you look like a zombie?" She asks, but all I can do is glare at here. My mouth wont form words right now. I go back to the booth, but don't lay down, instead I stare out the window, wondering if penguins have knees. Soon, cars and people and bikes going by are just blures of color. I dont even her Dolores when she walks over. I dont notice until she blocks my view. "Here." She throws my phone into my lap. I pick it up, there a million texts from my mom, and a few missed calls. 'are you ok?' 'why arent you answering?' 'seriously, reply!' I keep scrolling, more of the same. Her texts look panicky, I immediately think the worst. Then I see the first text. 'hey sweety, she passed away, I'm sorry.' I can't see anything. My vision is blurry with tears. I feel Dolores' hand on my arm. An attempt at comfort, but we both know shes not good at it. I stare at my hands, this time, I'm going to let my tears come. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone, and I was not there for her. I wasnt there. And now shes gone. Gone. The word repeats in my head, as if on a broken record. It won't leave. It wont stop. And neither will the tears. Maybe she is in a better place. Maybe shes up there with her Mom, her Dad, her brother. I lean forward and put my head in my hands. I feel Dolores rubbing my back. She met her. Once. I feel like a wimp. Sitting here, crying. Its not who I am. But then again, who am I? I don't know. Not anymore. We should have visited her last night. Instead of watching movies. We should have. I cant think straight right now. What did I do after Dad died? I don't know. I dont remember. Not now. But I went through it once before I look at Dolores. She has a small tear in her eyes. More from sympathy, it looks like. "You can go home." She says before I can even ask. I lean over and side hug her. Sniff, and shove my phone in my pocket. I take off my apron and hang it on the hook. I walk out to my car. Crank the engine, and pull out. I feel numb. Too numb. I feel like I should be feeling something. Other than a blade in my chest. That's it. That's all I can feel. ““”“ When I get home, Gala is ready to lick my tears away. I sit down on the floor, and Gala and I stare into each others eyes, for a long time. Sometimes, I think animals understand things better then humans. Animals will put aside everything they have wrong. Humans are wrapped up in their own problems, that they wont put aside. Animals are truly a blessing. I feel bad for the unfortunate souls that dont like animals. The wall phone rings. I get up and check my voice to make sure it will work. "Hello?" "Hello, this is Emma, are we still meeting?" "Yes! Yes, I'm sorry, I forgot, I'll be on my way! I'm so sorry." "Don't worry about it, I heard what happened." "Y-you did? From who?" I try to sound curious, not demanding. I dont know if it worked. "Oh, your mother told me this morning." "Oh, ok, I'm on my way." I hang up and run to the mirror. Blotches. Of course. I put on more makeup. Grab my purse. I'm out the door before I realize. Emma is already sitting on a park bench, holding a book, as gentle as if it could crumble in her finger tips. She looks beautiful with her hair blowing around. Her son definatly looks more like her than his dad. I step out of the car, Emma hears the car door shut, she carefully sets the book on top of her purse, when I get closer, I realize its a journal. "Hello!" She starts walking towards me, I'm walking toward her, I'm feeling very awkward, should I stop walking? I'm taken by surprise when she hugs me, as if we are long lost friends. Lost. The word rings in my head and I think of Mary. No. I wont think of her right now. Too late. My eyes are watery. "I'm so sorry to hear what happened." Emma says with a sorrowful look on her face. She's a nice woman. I've met her once, briefly. And she is already pitiful for me. I don't think that is normal. But maybe Ive never met a truly nice person before. Maybe I have. I dont remember them if I have, but I remember all the rude people who will shove me out of the way at the grocery store. Or flip me off in traffic. Or the man who killed my father. I will always remember his face. Permanently etched in my brain. People can't forget something when it affected them so badly. Thats not how the mind works, unfortunately. It would be wonderful if I could just tell myself to forget something. I would be much happier. Or would I? Maybe. Maybe not. "Well, at least shes in a better place now." I say. My eyes flick up to the sky. I hope thats where she is. I look down and stare at my shoes. Emma goes and sits on the bench. She moves her purse and beckons for me to sit. I walk over. Awkwardly. The bench is short, so we're only about a half an inch apart. I bring my shoulders forward to keep from brushing her. I dont know why though. I just feel uncomfortable. "I would like to ask you something." Emma says, "I hope these questions arent too annoying for you, I'm just a curious person." I look up at her and shake my head. "No, youre fine, I understand, I mean, you are leaving your son with me." I flash a quick smile at her. "Ok then!" She says. "Why did you choose to become a care giver at such a young age?" She lowers her voice towards the end of her sentence. I decide to give her the truth. Though I've never actually told anyone. They ask. But I just tell them I like helping people. "I watched both my Dad and my Grandpa die. It was hard. But I figured I could lie and wollow in my self pity, or I could help other people going through the same thing they did." I shrug. I want it to sound casual. But how casual is talking about your dead relatives to a stranger? She rubs my arm, like I'm her daughter, or younger sister. She seems like she could put aside her problems, or maybe she already has. I dont know. I dont know a lot these days. I dont know her, but shes nice. I dont know Brian, but he looks like her. I dont know Colin, but he's a good kid. I dont know my little sister, but I miss her. I dont know. I dont know. It rings over and over and over in my head. I want all of this to stop. I want everything to go black so I can curl up and forget everything. I want it to stop. How? How can it stop, when its real? "I know how youre feeling." Emma says. How? How could anyone know what I'm thinking, when we're all so different? Maybe we aren't different at all. Beating heart. Breathing lungs. Blinking eyes. Its all the same. Or is it? I'm questioning everything I know. Why? Because I'm not sure anyone knows for sure. Maybe they do. Right now, I vow to never think anything is certain. Even if I want to. "You do?" I ask. I'm still staring at the grass. I didnt even realize. But I dont look at something else. Maybe I'm being rude. "Yes. I went through the same thing when I lost my baby. I wanted to give up on everything. And everyone. I just wanted to curl up in a ditch and think of nothing. But I finally realized that there is so much around me. Everything is so much more then meets the eye." She looks around at the trees, the cars, and the children playing. Then I realize, the trees look like theyre swaying in the wind. But they're producing oxygen, they're housing insects amd lives smaller then we can see. The cars look like theyre driving themselves. There is someone inside, giving instructions to an engine that moves everything else. The children look like they're just sliding down slides. But theyre pretending to be superheroes, gliding through the sky like birds. How could I be so narrow-minded? There is too much worth remembering to just give up. I was focusing on the negative. When there is way more positive I could have been thinking of. "Yeah, sometimes I forget that." I say. "Not just you, I think everyone forgets it occasionally. Nothing to worry about, just something to be aware of." She reaches down and puts the journal back onto her purse, which just slid off. "Can I ask you something?" I ask. "You just did, didnt you?" She says smiling. I smile back. Like I'm with an old best friend. I feel comfortable enough to go ahead and ask. "Whos journal is that?" I ask pointing at the old book. The thread is fraying at the spine. It still smells like leather. Like its been in a box for years. "Its my moms. I found it a few years after she died. But I just now got the guts to read it. Im glad I did. I'm learning alot from my 14 year old mom." She looks at me quizingly. I feel like she is going to ask me something I wont know how to answer. "How is your relationship with your mom?" I knew it. I frickin foretold that! "Well, I mean. Its good, I guess." I feel like an idiot. I love my mom. But is that enough? I dont know. When I listen to music, they say love is the most powerful thing ever. But is love alone enough? It doesnt seem like it, but then again, what more could you give? I don't know. "I guess it isnt perfect. But I love her. Is love enough?" I ask. She seems wise and honest, I'm quickly comfortable around her. Even more then with Dolores. But Dolores seems always pre-occupied with her own thoughts, Emma isn't. I dont know how she does it. "Well, the feeling of love is enough, but just saying 'I love you' is not enough. You have to show that someone what they mean. You cant just tell them. They have to feel it. It sounds cliche. And probably overused, but its overused because its true. Why would anyone say it over and over if it isnt true? They wouldn't. Or theyre just good at acting." She says. Yes, very wise. But why use the word acting? Instead of lying? "Isnt acting and lying the same thing?" I ask. "No, not necessarily. Lying is making something up, just to see how it works. Acting is believing that something is false, but somewhere in them, they might just believe that its true, or vice-versa, depending on how you look at it." That answer is satisfying enough. But I have one more that is buzzing in the back of my head. "Do you believe that everyone is unique? Or that we are all the same?" I ask. I should be asking these questions to my mom, but I'm not. "Well, what I believe is very complex. Yes, I believe we are all unique. But I also believe we are connected by some invisible line. The same line that allows us to feel someone staring at us from yards away." She says. I wonder what school she went to that teaches this stuff. Or did she learn it on her own. "Where did you learn all this stuff?" I ask, calmly, not demanding, or insistent, just curiously. "That's the thing, I dont know any of this for sure, but its things I've thought about while sitting in silence." She looks at me quizingly again. "Do you listen to music, Selina?" She asks. Again, I'm going to answer honestly, I feel like I'm getting an honest overdose. This is the most honest I've been in years. "Yes, like when its quiet. I dont like to be alone with my own thoughts." I lean forward and pick up the blade of grass that I was staring at previously and start folding and ripping it. "Sometimes, we can learn from our thoughts. Sometimes, its better to be in quiet. Music is great too! But sometimes, say 15 minutes a day, we should be in silence." She says. We are again deep in conversations, about beliefs, wonders, and everything between. For a minute, I forget about my griefs. But grieving is useless. What good does it do anyway? Besides allow you to feel sorry for yourself? It does nothing besides that, at least in my experience with it. It might work for other people, to maybe let go of something. But is that really grief? I dont think so. Maybe it is. Who knows for certain? How many certain things are there really? I make a mental list. God. Family. Hope. Faith. Gravity. Oxygen. ?. Thats all I can think of. Maybe Love? No. Love could be a lie. This is a list of completely certain things. Yes, I love my mom, but thats what family is. So love is not included in this list. Is that a good or a bad thing? ”“” I'm back home. Emma and I talked until sunset. I still don't know what the purpose was in her mind. But I'm glad we met. I feel like a veil has been lifted. One that was blurring my vision of the world. I dont think I should base my thoughts off of what one person says. But, its a start. I should ask what other people think of the world. I make another mental list. Mom. Dolores. Emily. Dylyla. Yes, I will ask Dylyla, I want her back home. I miss her. But I won't grieve. Its useless. Maybe I will. I'll count to 10, let the grieve come in. Then push it out. 1 2 3 Why? 4 How? 5 Why? 6 What is this pain? 7 Is it my fault? 8 Will I really see them again? 9 What if I don't? 10 I let out an internal scream. Then its gone. Its gone! I will do this every time. I feel light. Like a feather. A feather that attached to a bird. A bird that is very intelligent. A bird that is hungry, but full at the same time. That is a very conflicting idea. But it makes sense to me. And that's all that matters, right? As long as I understand what one person means, my life is not wasted. Even if that one person is myself, or Emma, or Mom, or Emily, or even a stranger on the street. Thats what I believe. Is it though? Is that what I really believe? Yes, it is. And I need to stop questioning myself so much. I need to stop a lot of things. But right now, I'm focusing on, well, focusing. I need to really look at the world. Then I will really look at myself. I will fix what I need to fix. But if its fine, why fix it? Why not improve it? Yes, that sounds good. That's what I will keep in the back of my mind. Like a sticky note on the walls of my mind, I will write it big enough to see from anywhere in my mind. I pretend I'm ripping all the other notes on the wall away. The notes that don't matter. "Grief" "Self-pitty" "Why?" I keep ripping. And I rip them all away. There are only a few left. "Famliy" "Hope" "Faith" "Learning" "Realizing" Those are the only good notes I made. I will add more to my mind-walls soon. As soon I learn more, as soon as I get my family back together, as soon as I find hope again, as soon as I find faith, as soon as I realize how amazing this world actually is. Until then, this is all that matters. I crawl into bed. I'm asleep immediately.

0 notes

that-buckley-gal · 6 years ago

Text

Powerless - Chapter Six

June 22, 1943

When I woke up in the morning, sunlight was poking through the otherwise thin curtains. I was grateful that I wasn’t fully exposed to the sun this time. I yawn and stretch and kick my blankets to the floor, instantly regretting it as the cool apartment air gave me a sudden chill. Moaning softly as I shivered, I curled up into a ball and rolled over to my side. My eyes focus on the clock staring back at me, showing that the time was 8:04 AM.

“It’s not like me to sleep in,” I told the clock, my voice thick with sleep. “But I did have a rough night, right? Oh what do you know? You’re just a clock.” I doze off again only to wake up six minutes later, this time more alert. I need to get up. Steve’s coming home and the place is a mess. Add to the fact that I haven’t worked in nearly a week, I felt like a wreck. Cleaning made it easier. I dipped into the bathroom for a moment to make myself look decent; house chore clothes and hair pinned back. I wandered back to the kitchen and began tossing out random items that looked like garbage.

Time obviously flew by as the apartment got tidier and started to smell fresher. Before I knew it, it was already nearing four in the afternoon when I decided I’d take a break. All I had to do was the bedrooms, and Steve’s would just need to be aired out after being left alone for almost a week. I think I should’ve cleaned his sheets or something. Then I decide I should wash them. I get up and enter the room, heading straight for the window for two reasons. The first was to open the one, large window that was in there. The second was to see if old, grouchy Mrs. Craw was putting her stuff on the line in the back; she was. Cursing silently to myself, I move and grab Steve’s blankets and raise them up and shake them a few times and repeating the action with his pillow. I then remake the bed as neatly as I could before moving back out to grab the broom and start sweeping up any and all dust that has collected over the week, not that there was a whole lot to start with. As the dust was collected and promptly thrown into the over-filled garbage can, I set to work scrubbing the place. I supposed that if I was in this position around this time last year and Steve and Bucky walked in, they’d correctly assume that I was ridding myself of the dark place. It wasn’t something I was even remotely fond of, as I knew that the darkness looming over me made me an emotional time bomb. One moment I’d feel perfectly fine alone then I’d feel lonely. If Bucky or Steve showed up, I would become immediately irate with them and they would leave, making me feel lonely once more. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I’d be either really glum about everything, or I’d be really excited for everything: there was no in between. When I was really off, I’d get really hot and bothered just at the thought of Bucky, but I never acted on those impulse instincts, instead berating him for being too handsome and would lock myself away until I was either glum or excited again, pushing away the thoughts of my unwanted thoughts. Cleaning usually helped to ward off the darkness, but not always. It’s still here now, I can feel the moodiness creeping up on me, but I continue to do my work in silence, myself being the only companion at the moment. If Steve wasn’t coming home today, then I knew I’d be calling on my girls to be with me, even if just for an hour. My boys were at war, this they knew, and I was alone. I just plopped back down onto the couch when the apartment door creaked open. I turn to the sound, painfully aware that I am weaponless and exposed. My relief is instant when I catch sight of Steve…or who I believed Steve to be. “Steve?” I ask in disbelief. “Hey, Mads,” he said. His voice was the same. Eyes, facial structure, basically everything was the same. The only painfully obvious differences were in height and build. He was huge! It worked I thought idly as my eyes took in the new appearance as I slowly approached him. He didn’t move as I approached and I briefly wondered why before I realized he might’ve realized I was cleaning. But that shouldn’t automatically cause him to think that I was in the dark – even though I was – for all he knew I could’ve been cleaning as a way of saying “yes I can live alone if I really needed to” and in this case I did. I kept the place from burning down. The same couldn’t be said for Bucky’s apartment. I should probably go check on that later. “I met Peggy,” I announce as I back away. Hugs were going to be reserved for another time when I was sure he wouldn’t crush me. I could see Steve’s brows furrow as he thinks back as to when, why, and how Peggy came to see me. Questions he’d have to find the answers for out on his own later. “And I really like her. She’s pretty, tough…English. I think you two would be really good together.” I take a breath and smirk at my brother. “Not as good as Buck and I, obviously, but a close second for sure.” Steve laughed that deep, genuine laugh of his, and I knew that he was my brother still on the inside. It was exactly like Dr. Erskine said: his good qualities were now great. And his new physique would allow him to go overseas and fight for good like he always wanted to and I was happy for him.

Steve and I spent the night talking about his changes, and I let him know that Peggy spilled the beans about Project Rebirth, which worried and relieved Steve. He also let slip the fact that Dr. Erskine was killed yesterday by a man who Steve gave chase to. “His last words were ‘Hail Hydra’,” Steve explained. “Hydra?” I asked. “Well, that’s original.” “You think so?” Steve asked. “I think that’s dangerous.” He didn’t speak as he finished off the last of his food. I’d finished my own plate a while ago. “You should ask about getting paid for being a test subject,” I said. “Especially now that you’ve torn through everything that was in the fridge.” Steve gave me an impish look before his face fell. “Have you checked out Bucky’s place at all?” “It’s too painful,” I said in a dejected voice. I snuck a glance at Steve to see he looked at the table, lips pursed in thought. “I miss him.” “I know. I do, too.”

We fell into a brief silence before Steve perked up.

“Did you ever get your present from my closet?”

“Um,” I honestly forgot about his note. “No? I’m sorry, this past week has been insane.”

“Understandable,” Steve smiled. “Wait here.” He took off towards his room and I sighed. He returned as quickly as he went, holding a box wrapped in navy wrapping paper with a opal white bow. “Here ye be, happy belated birthday.”

“Thank you,” I said accepting the gift. I practically tore the paper to shreds, revealing the cardboard box underneath. I opened it to find a letter with my name on it, a slightly larger envelope beside it, a small box, and an even smaller velvet box inside. I opted for the velvet box first and opened it to reveal a silver heart-shaped locket.

“Oh, this is beautiful, Steve,” I said and opened it. I could feel my eyes get misty when I saw a picture of my mom holding me when I was a baby on one side, and a picture of her, Steve and myself on the other. “Wow.” I closed it and inspected the locket closer to see there was some kind of symbol engraved on the back of it. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know; mom wanted to give you the necklace and the letter on your twentieth birthday.”

“Then why…” I didn’t need to finish. Steve didn’t think he was going to come back. “Well thank you, I guess.” I took the letter from mom and went to open it, but stopped. “I’m going to wait to open this.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked. I could tell he wanted to know what it said as well and I nodded.

I took the other small box out next and opened it to find a grey and red scarf with matching beanie and gloves in it. “Wow, Steve. Thank you!” I laughed and put the gloves on right away to see they fit perfectly. I also draped the scarf around me. “This is great; exactly what I need for the winter.”

Steve smiled. “Well I know you weren’t too happy when you found out me and Buck lost your other set on that snowman. I figured it’s better late than never to replace that.”

“You are simplifying it, brother. But thank you.”

I opened the card next to find a handmade card from Steve, with $25 inside. I tried to give it back to Steve, insisting he earned it but he said it was for me and that he wouldn’t take it back, so I begrudgingly put it in my purse. I thanked my brother with a final hug before retreating to my room for the night, with the letter from my mother weighing me down.

#powerless #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #the first avenger

0 notes

huesofjadeharley · 10 years ago

Note

I only just noticed that you're wearing a bucket on your head. What would the trolls think if they saw such a display?

its taken two years for someone to remind me of that

two years!!!

i almost forgot it was there

#asks #to answer your question theyd probably roll their eyes #lavenderlalonde

2 notes · View notes

angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

Text

ask your destiny to dance [6] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“What are you doing here?” Ash’s voice is hostile, and Roger waits with his snare in his arms, just around the corner of the building. He’s not following her, or at least, he didn’t mean to; he’s just packing up his drums, like he did after every show. Sure he was a bit earlier than usual but that didn’t mean anything.

“Sweet girl, I wanted to see you.” The voice is teasing, like she should have know this already, masculine, low, and it makes Roger nauseous. Finally he peers around the edge of the building and catches a better glimpse of the man from the bar, who is now standing less than a foot from a tense and confused Ash who leans against the door to the bar.

“You- why?” Already her voice has softened, but it seems he still makes her uncertain, if the tense set of her shoulders is anything to go by. But then the man’s reaching out, resting his hands on her upper arms. “You’re not mad at me?” She asks, relaxing under his touch, looking up at him with her big, brown eyes. Something in Roger’s gut twists at the sight.

“Of course not, baby girl.” He’s got her accent, Roger realises, and something in his chest tightens as the man places his hands on her shoulders coaxing her away from the door so he can wrap her up in a hug. Roger can see her trembling as she hugs him back, a soft confusion written all over face. “I’ve missed you.” He tells her, voice a murmur, but in the crisp, night air, it’s loud enough that even Roger hears.

“Why are you here, Gus?” Ash is the one who steps back, out of his grip, leaning back against the door. Roger can see her hands shake when she pulls half a cigarette from her breast pocket.

“I wanted to see you again, make sure you’re okay.” And the man, Gus, takes her hands, gently taking the cigarette stub and throwing it away before he laces his fingers with hers. She doesn’t even protest.

“And Kira?” She’d asked, voice so soft that Roger almost didn’t catch it, and the man in question shook his head with a smile as he leaned in, murmuring something that only she could hear, pressing kiss to her cheek.

“Oh, my sweet girl, you look so good.” He mused, voice growing a little louder, stepping back to admire her, and though Roger wants to gag at his tone, syrupy and full of obviously fake revere. Ash actually giggles, and not insincerely. “As beautiful as the day I met you.”

“You think so?” Voice uncharacteristically young and hopeful, it’s so unlike her that Roger’s pushed to the end of his patience, and rounds the corner with his drum in hand, not even acknowledging the pair as he heads for his van, though the way Ash jumps back from the man as if he’d burned her, it does little to ease the discomfort in Roger’s chest.

“Hi!” Suddenly flustered, Ash moves around Gus to stand between him and Roger. He’s not really sure why she’s bothered, there’s so much distance between the back door and the van, but he thinks it might be so that they look less suspicious. It’s not working.

“Hey.” Roger says, tone clipped as he says it, fumbling for his keys as he opens the back doors of the van.

“This is, uh, August.” She’s aware of how strange it sounds, how guilty her words come out, and when Roger’s sat his drum inside the van, he finally turns to get a good look at the man. The man with a hand on Ash’s shoulder, making direct, unflinching eye contact with Roger, smirking.

“August, this is Roger, he’s in the band.” There’s a waiver to her voice that Roger doesn’t like, and he can’t bring himself to smile at her. Everything feels so wrong, and Ash looks so guilty, like she’s been caught red handed.

He’s handsome by any definition, but not by Ash’s usual one. High cheek bones, hair gelled up into a neat quiff with a few sparing grey strands running through it that only served to make him look more distinguished, as did the dark, well groomed stubble on his jaw. He looks to be in his late 40s, in a pressed, well tailored suit, and shoes that Roger would consider too formal for even an explicitly formal event, so out of place in the dingy, pub setting. And his hand is still on Ash’s shoulder.

Roger doesn’t want to think about why it puts him on edge, just knows that it does. August takes long, deliberate strides before he reaches Roger, holding out his hand.

“August Reid.” His smile was sharp, and when Roger took his hand, he held it a little too tight, a show of dominance. “You guys played very well.” It’s the least sincere compliment Roger’s ever received; he wants nothing more than to punch August in his smug face.

“Roger.” After a beat, he leaned against the edge of the van, crossing his arms. “So how do you know Ash?”

“Ashley.” August correct automatically, and Roger can see the way Ash flinches out the corner of his eye, still looking a little mortified, avoiding looking at both of them. August doesn’t see it, his smile widens just a little bit, all sharp teeth. “I taught her back at Saint Andrew’s, I thought I’d stop in while I was in town.”

“He was my Art History professor.” Ash confirms from behind him, and Roger freezes where he’s looking at her. He’s never seen her like this before, demure, shy; she’s always consciously made an effort to appear larger than life, to compensate for her size and sweet looks, but now she looks so young. She can’t even bring herself to meet his gaze, but he can tell she doesn’t know he saw their earlier exchange, if she did know, he thinks she probably wouldn’t be so honest about that.

“Oh,” is all Roger can say, before he snaps out of it, moving past where August is trying to be intimidating, up to Ash who’s leaning against the back door, “Rocket, can you move, I’m trying to pack up.” She doesn’t even fight him on it, tell he can walk around the front the same way as he got here. With the door opens, he hesitates, reaches out to touch her arm, and when she looks at him her expression is surprised as he tilts his head in a silent question, asking if she’s okay.

“What?” She snaps, frowning and shifting out of his grip, a spark of her old fire returning. Roger’s moment of softness receded with his eye roll and he lets the door slam closed behind him. Part of him knows that August was watching the exchange. By the time he’s pulled down the rest of his equipment and is ready to haul it out, Ash is behind the bar, cheery as ever, and August is nowhere to be found.

“I thought you were studying fashion.” Brian muses into the balmy night air. The band had stayed until last call, intrigued about the newcomer, waiting until Ash was taking out the trash for the night to ask her, the four of them chatting around the van, Mary looking quite tired and leaning against Freddie, but enjoying their company..

“I am.” Ash agreed, seemingly back to her old self now that August had left, grinning like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This isn’t my first go at uni.” She admitted, and Freddie nodded, passing Mary his lit cigarette.

“I thought he was a talent scout or something; he’s well dressed.” Brian half smiled, and Ash chuckled, shaking her head at him, smile bright. "What was his name?” He asked, and Ash looked a little shocked, looking to Roger, who was suddenly avoiding her gaze.

“Rog didn’t tell you guys?” She asked, smile fading a little into confusion, and Roger snorted out a laugh.

“Told them he seemed like a prick.” He scoffed around his cigarette, and Ash flushed, frowning at him.

“Oi, don’t be mean, Rog! It’s just how he is, he’s always been a bit of a-” and for the barest moments they lock eyes and Ash turns a hilarious shade of pink, they both somehow know what she was about to say, he’s always been a bit of a dominant one, but she can’t bring herself to say those words out loud. She doesn’t want to say it for how it would sound, how it would make the others suspicious, but she knows Roger already is, even if she doesn’t know the full extent; it would be funny if the implication didn’t make Roger’s stomach turn, “a bit of an alpha male, you know.” After a beat, she clears her throat. “But yeah, Doctor Reid is my old Art History professor.”

It doesn’t escape Roger the way she doesn’t say his first name.

“What made you change your mind?” Mary yawns, passing the cigarette back to Freddie, and Ash fixes her with a fond smile. Since Freddie had introduced the women, they’d become fast friends, and Roger had never seen anyone as ready to fight as Ash when the dudes start leering at Mary.

“This was the only place that I could do what I wanted to.” And it sounds so honest that Roger’s tempted to believe it, if not for the memory that surfaces.

It’s her, a few months ago, bathed in moonlight, her head on his chest and his arm around her, ‘I was kicked out of uni once before, you know?’ her voice is thoughtful and he laughs, a little incredulous, asks how, but she’s grinning at him with that wicked smile of hers, and does a good enough job of distracting him that he doesn’t even realise she doesn’t give an answer.

“I’m surprised you even remember his last name,” Freddie laughs, “she couldn’t name a single lecturer on our timetable this semester.” And the others laugh, but Ash just rolls her eyes.

“I don’t want to know their names, it’s not like we’re gonna be friends,” but she does concede after she turns to head inside, “Doctor Reid is a friend of my dad’s, I’ve known him since I was sixteen.” And she smiles so blithely it somehow takes some of the shock out of her statement for Roger, who chokes on the smoke of his cigarette.

“How did he know you were here?” John’s question cuts through Roger’s spluttering, and Ash stops in her tracks.

“What?” She asked, suddenly confused, a little defensive, as she turns back.

“How did he know you’d be here?” He asks again, so calm and unflinching, not looking away from the sudden flicker of doubt that cross Ash’s face.

“It was coincidence, Deaky; just luck is all.” She says, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She heads back inside.

The next time they play there, he’s back, and Ash is a sweet, flustered mess, and the dichotomy of this, and who Roger knows her as, is a little shocking. Even Maureen seems concerned, though she doesn’t say anything.

“He’s too old for you.” Roger makes it out the back before Ash does during her usual post-gig break. August went home halfway through the night, and Ash had returned to her normal bright, if a little sultry, bar-persona.

“Excuse me?” She snapped as the door slammed closed, and she looked to where Roger was sitting on her usual milk crate.

“You heard me.” Roger responded, something easing in his chest at the comfort of hearing the hostility in her voice that she’d used when they’d first met. It also hurts a little, to think how he’d prefer the hostility to the cute, blushy mess that August brings out in her. “I saw how he looked at you.”

“Watch your accusations.” She snapped, but there was actual anger in her words, which surprised Roger. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She growled, and it was cold hostility; it wouldn’t lead anywhere fun, and Roger didn’t know how to face this. “I’m an adult, dickhead, so don’t think I can’t make my own decisions.” And her accent’s a little stronger, but her words take a moment to process. “He’s a friend-”

“He calls you baby.”

That shocks her into silence, and after a moment, a cruel, cold smile spread over her face. They both know, now, that Roger knows exactly what’s going on between her and August. He’d never been good at anything apart from blurting out exactly what was bothering him, and this time was no different.

“Are you jealous? Were you eavesdropping on us? What the fuck?” And there’s no warmth in her harsh laughter. “This is why I don’t do casual.” She spits, and Roger’s whole face lights up with shock, and he barks out a laugh.

“Jealous? Oh Ashley,” and when he says it, she flinches again, and he regrets using the name almost immediately, but he can’t help digging himself deeper, “no, I’m just interested in what a goddamn doctor, who’s almost fifty, mind you, is doing being interested in a girl like you.”

He watches as she actually has to take a step back, her mouth falling open in shock, eyes suddenly shiny with tears, and he knows he’s fucked up.

“A girl like me...” She whispers it with a laugh, smiling sadly, before finally meeting his gaze. “He... he likes me, Roger.” And fuck, she sounds so vulnerable it’s like a punch to the gut. “After everything I’ve done, he fucking likes me.” And after a beat, she stepped forward. “He still thinks I’m good, and that’s all that matters.”

She cuts her own break short, slamming the door as she heads back inside, leaving Roger to the silence of the car park.

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee@smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings @2ptonpt@benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times @heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98 @ceruleanrainblues@banhbao329 @fantasticchaoticwho @ko-kitty @seven-seas-of-hi @mimisfangirlfantasy @aadjuric

#roger taylor #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor imagine #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #queen imagines #ask your destiny to dance fic #the angry lizard writes

151 notes · View notes