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everyone born in the 90s has an intense inherent desire and ability to play the sims for hours at a time

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Hey I just read your fic with ben (the coffee/bookshop one) and omg it was SO BEAUTIFUL, so I was wondering if there are any chances you could write a part 2 or something like that? I really loved it!! 😍

wowmst thank u so so much!! this is so sweet and i'm really happy you liked it 💓 i wasn't very sure about it so this made me feel better. and sure! i do love me a coffee/bookshop au so it would be nice to work on a second part. but i have a lot of stuff to do for uni at the moment (like. please pray for me) so it will take a while!

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR july 26th, 1949

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Autumn in August (80s Roger x Reader)

Pairing: 80s Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k  

Warnings: Period typical sexism and fluff. Good, old, beautiful fluff.

Beautiful Gif By: @rhythmsectionbros

Authors Note: I wanted to write something but was feeling uninspired. I asked @supersonicfreddie what she wanted to read in this ask and she said some single dad goodness. I decided to give it a go because I love fluff and also all she writes is amazing and I wanted to give back. Her masterlist is here (please go read)! 

I have a whole story in my head but I will only carry on if people think its worth it, so please tell me what you think! I would love to hear!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Seguir leyendo

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We’re rock and roll band, we don’t do disco. It’s not disco. Then, what is it? It’s Queen.

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hi 💓 could you do one where ben is a regular at this bookshop/coffee shop and he falls in love with this shy girl working there, and he asks her out eventually?

hi, sorry for the long wait! things have been intense lately and i’m not really feeling my best. but anyways! i’m a sucker for bookshop/coffee shop aus so this was really fun and cute to write. hope u like it!! (yeah, it’s ben pining again).

taglist: @luvborhap

*

It wasn’t hard to understand why Ben kept coming back.

The first time he noticed the little coffee-come-bookshop hidden just around the corner of Surrey and Whirling’s Street it was a cloudy tuesday morning and he was driving back home after a meeting with his agent. Not even a particularly exciting one. More of a “hey, you still haven’t got a call back from your last audition but try not to fret about it” kind of meeting; the type that shouldn’t bother him by now and yet still managed to make him feel quite shit. So naturally (and because for some reason it isn’t socially acceptable to get a bit tipsy at ten am), he postponed his original plan of speeding home to maybe hide under the covers for a while and decided to get for a cup of coffee instead.

Lotus’ Coffee, he thought later, was the kind of shop that you just couldn’t miss after you got your eye on it. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, its colourful walls and a strange abundance of plants made it tempting enough to get you on your feet and through the squeaky door. It looked exactly like the place to be whenever things got rough and heavy and you needed to rest your bones a little. (But that’s not what made it special).

That morning though, it appeared to be empty. Just him waiting in line on what seemed like a terribly slow day for everyone. Should’ve stayed in bed with Frankie, Ben thought, his eyes searching around for someone to take his order and landing on a small table, almost completely occupied by a box full of books, all of them carefully wrapped in brown paper and with a note handwritten in the back.

“It’s only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye”, he read, holding a book on his left hand and looking for more with the other, every quote more enchanting than the last and moving him so that he couldn’t help but stay there for a long time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”, a voice said quickly and out of nowhere, distracting him from his search and almost making him drop the box to the floor. “I-I really am, sorry. I’m- Mia is taking her break now and I just. Sorry. May I take your order, sir?”

Technically speaking, Ben knows that life isn’t a movie (regardless of how much he wants it to be sometimes). He knows about the logistics behind the camera, the angles and the lighting all working together in a perfectly organized harmony to make a scene between very tired people, that usually only talk to each other between takes, look like the epitome of good-selling romance. But, that being said, sometimes life comes pretty close or, like now, it’s even better.

The timid voice belonged to a woman that looked to be shaking a bit when, wrapping paper and scissors in hand, she made her way to the counter. Lovely, Ben thought, his hands rapidly getting sweaty while he looked at her try her best to hide the rosy colour that rose to her cheeks and spread until the neck of her shirt. Really really pretty, holy shit.

A cough brought his attention back to the menu, his eyes not really catching anything besides the girl standing behind the counter.

“Uhh, sorry. Yeah, what would you recommend?” Subtle. Years of acting school and a good job and that’s the best that he could come up with?

“Oh. Well, clients seem to like lattes lately? We got a new brew this week if you want- if you would like to try it?”

Ben doesn’t even like lattes. He’s more of a large black coffee with one sugar kind of guy because, in Joe’s words, he’s “bitter and soulless like that”. But there’s no way he could say no to this girl. It’s been five minutes and he feels himself stammer whenever he catches her eyes, his hands itching a little by his sides and definitely not because of the cold outside.

“We have banana bread too? With chocolate chips”

A woman after my own heart, fuck.

“Sure, that sounds perfect”, he replied, an actual full sentence this time, his chest feeling lighter when she gave him a smile before starting to work on his order; the book on his hand suddenly feeling like the most important thing in the world.

“So, was it your idea? The books and the wrapping, I mean. It’s lovely”

Her cheeks got red again and Ben felt like melting; following the movement of her hands and the tiny shine in her eyes like a sunflower would look at the sun. 

“Yeah, I guess? We’re kind of slowly turning into a bookshop as well. I mean, I’m trying to convince everyone else still but it seems to be working, I think”, she giggled, now cutting a piece of bread and placing it in a plate on the table, besides his latte (a latte, Lucy would be so proud).

“So, an English major then?”, Ben chuckled, his smile growing impossibly larger when it made her laugh, raising her hands in surrender.

“Would you like to take one? The books in the box. Some of them are quite old but they’re incredible, I promise. Can’t go wrong with a book”.

Ben would have bought the whole box, honestly, but he chose two in the end: the one that caught his eye first and another, a lot heavier, that he noticed made her eyes sparkle so brightly that he knew he was onto something (and someone) very special. He had never met someone so breath-taking and astounding (and that was saying something considering his line of work or whatever); someone that seemed to hide a bit under the shadows and yet beamed light without even realizing it.

A latte had never tasted as sweet as when [Y/N] told him her name, and offered another piece of banana bread.

*

Safe to say, Ben started spending a lot more money on coffee and books after that, and he wasn’t very subtle if the looks that Mia, [Y/N]’s co-worker, and even Lily, the cat that made the shop her very own castle, gave him had anything to say in the matter. But he just couldn’t help himself. The first three weeks, when he was still in London, he stopped by as much as he could (basically every day she told him she would be there?) while trying his best to not come off as a creep; absolutely fascinated by the way she talked, sometimes stumbling on her feet when Lily walked between them and demanded to be pet immediately. And just like that, he caught himself being jealous of a cat and started reading so many books, sometimes well into the night, that he had to start using his prescription glasses a lot more frequently; only to feel like he could burst when he stopped by the shop the next morning and [Y/N] brightened up upon seeing him, knowing that they were possibly going to spend hours talking about his latest read and basically everything and anything that crossed their minds, all while the coffee brewed and Lily made herself a bed on their laps.

But he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask her out just yet. Not even when he had to leave for filming during a couple weeks and his list of books had to wait a little. But then again, how do you tell someone that they’re pretty much the only thing you can think about?

*

“He’s so obvious about it, you know”, Mia said, putting all the dirty cups and spoons on the dishwasher, completely exhausted after having to deal with all those people, using her best costumer voice, during rush hour.

“Who are you talking about now?”, [Y/N] asked, having just arrived and trying to eat lunch (a chicken sandwich with lettuce, very fancy, gourmet level and all that) as fast as she could so they could go over the inventory again.

“Ben, of course. He likes you a lot”.

Of course. As if there wasn’t any doubt, as if it was so incredibly obvious it should have it her like a brick in the face by now; as certain as the sky is blue and the grass is green.

“He does not, don’t be silly”, she replied. It was too good to be true after all, more like her deepest thoughts and longings but not so much like the truth, even if she wanted to believe it more than anything.

“Uh-uh, but he does though! He really does! I mean. I told you about yesterday. He’s been back in London for like, what, a day? And the first thing he did was come here. He reeked of airport, [Y/N]. When I told him you weren’t here because someone-”, Mia continued, pointing at Lily, currently purring on [Y/N]’s lap and trying to shove her tail under her nose, “just had to be a huge cockblock and go to the vet- Anyways. He looked so sad I thought he-”

“She needs routine check-ups, Mia!”, [Y/N] interrupted, “You know that. Don’t you, Lily darling?”. The cat in question continued to purr, glaring at Mia with a surprisingly menacing look.

“You’re deflecting. This little beast here could have waited just one more day and you know it! The only reason you didn’t let me take her in the first place is that you’re scared of what could happen because you know that lover boy is so crazy about-”

“Hi there! A hello would be nice, I think”. The door made a loud squeaky sound and let Ben in, his hair looking wet and looking way longer than the last time [Y/N] saw him, holding a bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, looking like he was trembling a bit even though it was surprisingly sunny outside.

“And we’re taking our break now!”, Mia exclaimed, clapping in excitement and taking Lily from [Y/N]’s lap and into her own arms, much to the cat’s dismay, before rapidly walking into the back room.

She runs to hug him before she could even think about it, feeling truly warm and at home for the first time in weeks; the water droplets falling from his curls and into her neck.

“I-brought you something”, Ben said, hiding his face under her jaw for a second and then signalling to the presents still hanging uncomfortably in his hands, “Or well, two- various things, actually. I remember- you told me once, that morning that it was pouring outside, remember? I mean- it’s London, of course you do, it rains here all the time. But. That time when Lily was still outside, and it was raining so much you were scared she wasn’t going to come back? And she did, obviously, the little bugger. But- the point is that you told me you named her. And that you chose Lily because you couldn’t come up with anything else and you love lilies, right? Remember that?”. He left the flowers on the table, the bouquet looking fresh and just perfect by the box of wrapped books kept there. “So yeah, I got you these ones? They’re all the colours they had at the flower shop; I think. Anyways. I- that’s not my favourite part, actually. Just- look”

The bag, of course, was full of books; so old that their covers were almost crumbling and the pages, sewed together at some point, so delicate that just a rough touch could break them. “I- the old lady selling them was very nice. They’re really old, holy fuck, but listen. I know they’re some of your favourites. See, there’s a Madame Bovary somewhere in there and I know you love The Little Prince, so I found this french version… I guess, what I’m trying to say is that- I like you a lot, obviously, and I was wondering if you wanted to go out, maybe? But I got to be honest first, I-I don’t really like lattes that much?”

“These- these are some of the first editions, Ben”, he nodded, biting his lip in order to stop his smirk from growing when he noticed her getting closer and closer, her cheeks impossibly red by now, until their noses were almost touching, “ And I prefer tea, by the way”.

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This is the best thing i’ve ever heard, (This had 200,000 notes and then tumblr deleted it.

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★ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ʙʀɪᴀɴ ᴍᴀʏ ! ★

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the studious reader: reads in coffe shops and at the library, drinks lots of lattes, takes the best pictures, lives for the aesthetic, blankets and cozy outfits and candles are a priority no matter the place and time of year or day, probably a literature student or in a social sciences field, tabs, comes up with the weirdest and most detailed theories

the chaotic reader: reads four books at once, regularly forgets characters’ names, crazy reading habits, reads mostly late at night or for unhealthy stretches of time, eats snacks or bites nails while reading, had an intense reading phase around the year 2014 and feels very nostalgic about that, passionate and outspoken

the summer reader: reads outside, wears sunglasses and sits directly on the ground to read, plays with sand or grass while reading, gets bored if the story is stalling or running in circles but otherwise gets easily lost in a book, likes a sweet drink or a nice cup of tea, unapologetically reads bad chick lits, plot over prose, tropes are friends

the addicted reader: reads on the bus in bed on a chair in class at work in the bath whilst walking, would read in their sleep, wears headphones to impede social interactions, owns the largest and most eclectic collection of books, refuses to think about the library of alexandria, picky and generally hard to please, likes to keep their favorite copies freakishly clean

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hi there! i've been pretty inactive over the last week or so (uni and all that 😔👊) but i want to get back into writing. so if you have any requests just hmu 👋 it may take me a little while but i'll get there!!

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“What is love? two souls and one flesh;                friendship? two bodies and one soul.”

― Joseph Roux

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fluff with roger? maybe reader’s on her period and has bad cramps, and then has to get a tooth removed the same day? it’s fine if you can’t

thank u for requesting!! this was so cute to write my teeth ached a little 💕 i really hope this isn’t your situation right now but if it is, remember to stay hydrated and be gentle with yourself. or well, have this short drabble at least!!

*

It’s been six hours. Six very long hours since she was woken up from what until then was a peaceful slumber by the worst excruciating pain in her lower stomach and a killer headache that made it almost impossible to open her eyes. She was kind of expecting, though; the changes subtle but noticeable on both her body and mood for the past few days: her skin had felt tighter, almost as if it wasn’t hers (and she was already dreading the pimples that were sure to come), and her emotions had seemed all over the place, jumping quickly from happiness to anger to an inexplicable sadness before she could even start to process it, and, funnily enough, the absolutely insane horniness she had felt over the last week while waiting for Roger to come back from tour had immediately faded into an uncomfortable sensitivity when his eager hands wanted to wander up her skirt yesterday. So yes, she went to bed prepared but not for this exactly.

How come she’s still surprised every month?

And Rog is so lovely about it too, all worried and confused, hair still messed up and a little bit of drool on his chin when her whimpering (the bad kind, he noticed right away) woke him up at six am, his hands then moving from her waist to rest gently and warm in her lower stomach, his face hiding in her neck and peppering soft kisses under her jaw. He knew how to help her through it by now (biology major and all that), apparently familiar enough with the signs to know what to do (cuddles, tender kisses and touches, tea, indian food and basically anything that could satisfy her sweet tooth) and what not to under any given circumstances (namely: don’t be an idiot and shut the fuck up because you don’t even have an uterus).

So, it’s safe to say that when he came back at lunch time with two orders of chicken tikka masala and chocolate and then absently reminded her of her appointment with the dentist late in the afternoon, she wanted to kill him. [Y/N] is a strong, independent woman, alright? She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself and being an (somewhat functional?) adult; it’s just that today she literally didn’t feel like it. And Roger? He is now fundamentally the messenger of the devil himself.

Later though? When he held her hand and tried not to laugh at how incredibly adorable her post-tooth-removal face was while he fed her some ice cream? He was an angel again by then.

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hello and welcome!! sooo can u do something w/ ben about him and reader being coworkers and he has such a crush on her and she's clueless so someone else tells her and he's all nervous around reader and all that cute funny stuff? thanks !!

hi there! thank u so much!! i’ve been in the fandom for a couple months now but only made this blog like two weeks ago? anyways. this ended up being longer than expected bc i have no self control i guess? but i hope you like it!! have 1.4k of ben full on pining.

(oh and like i said before, english isn’t my mother tongue. so this is a weird mix of american and british english djfgkjs. and a lot of parenthesis and italics because that’s how i roll).

*

Like most things in Ben’s life as of recent, it was Joe’s fault.

See, he was perfectly fine, actually minding his own business and feeling a lot more comfortable on his own skin after finally getting over a quite messy break up. He was putting himself out there (exclusively for a good time), having fun with his friends, and his auditions were going pretty well too (sometimes people even called him first, things were that smooth, mind you).

So, naturally, Joe fucked it all up. And not even on purpose. The first time he mentioned her they were just catching up on his flat, one of the few times he could be bothered to go to London instead of expecting everyone to show up in New York. And that was it, really. Just one mention of this new friend he made the last time he visited: that was, in a way, all it took. Her name was [Y/N] and she had only moved there recently, working occasionally as a dialect coach and accent expert of sorts, and was somehow shy yet one of the funniest people I have ever met, Benny, I swear to god. You would like her a lot, I think.

And wasn’t that the whole problem? He just, fuck, he just liked her so much it was ridiculous (and quite embarrassing, as the annoying little voice on his head that sounded suspiciously a lot like Gwilym’s would like to add). After that first mention, Joe would just casually bring her up sometimes and not even three weeks later, fate (if you want to call it that) started playing its part as well. If he hadn’t given that much thought to the lovely woman that apparently made his friend cry of laughter once (Joe had this way of taking everything out proportion and besides, he’s just having fun now, right?), Ben was in no way prepared for the absolute angel he met on the first day of production for his most recent movie.

It was kind of humiliating, to say the least. Ben was not used to losing his breath when he met a beautiful woman but, it seemingly turns out, there’s a first time for everything. And it was definitely not the last. It was almost seven am and the weather wasn’t helping a lot in terms of motivation, but her nose was red from the cold, her body shaking a bit under many layers of clothing, a big yellow scarf almost swallowing her up, and Ben was falling under and fast even before she talked and moved him completely: her name was [Y/N] and, because the movie was a historical fiction book adaptation, it was her job to help him practice a swedish accent until it hopefully sounded native (or very close to it, at least). And things just got worse from there, really. Ben’s pretty sure he’s been dying a very slow and painful death for the last two months and, even worse (!), he couldn’t be more obvious about it even if he tried.

He even feels like a creep sometimes. They practice every day and yes, his voice quality seems to be getting a lot better (something about using a lower tone helping the accent roll easier on his tongue), but it’s like his skin can’t stop itching no matter how much he tries. He was, in all seriousness, pretty much shaking the first time they were alone, her small hands helping him correct his posture so he could reach a better pitch; and if he’s being honest with himself, every time after that. It’s like’s he’s restless al the time; the smell of her hair and perfume staying on his memory long after their last hug (and yet not quite enough), her laugh making his heart jump quick whenever they talk, the possibility of seeing her again actually motivating him to get up at five am (!) and the mere thought of kissing her until her knees were trembling was enough to lead to certain uh, interesting thoughts when’s alone in bed at night (or at the tube, the market, the fucking bookshop that one time he prefers not to think about).

The thing is he’s so obvious about it that everyone has noticed. And he doesn’t mean just his co-workers (which is already bad enough!) but also his friends have quickly caught up on his incapability of shutting up (whining, according to Rami) about her and, as expected, they’ve been completely insufferable ever since. Hell, even his mum called him the other day asking when she’s meeting the girl that has him so interested. Fuck Joe, honestly. Why does he even talk to her on the phone, anyways? It’s like he just needs to tell everyone (and well, uhh).

As if he wasn’t already easy to pick on; by all means, he could just put a big sign on his head announcing his feelings into the entire world and it wouldn’t make much of a difference. But, funnily enough, [Y/N] seems to have no idea, even though he’s been torn between (unknowingly) dropping hints constantly and wanting the ground to swallow him whole for a while now. It’s just, she’s probably used to having a ton of people interested? Or maybe she’s been trying to tell you she’s just not that into you and you’re a clueless bastard that she has to deal with because it’s her job? The possibilities are endless, you see.

—Hey, can I– are you busy right now? do you have a minute? –she asked, closing her umbrella and stepping into the trailer, the rain just starting to pour down outside.

Oh.

—Su-sure, of course. Is everything alright? I thought you were going downtown with- –he said, cleaning his now very sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants but stopped abruptly after taking in her blotchy cheeks and shaky hands, holding them with his own before moving one to gently caress her jaw– Hey, did something happen? You’ve been crying, I can tell –his voice caught on his throat upon seeing her eyes fill up with tears again, now holding her face with both hands and trying to get her to look at him– Did someone do something to you? Please, you know you can tell me anyt–

—I talked to Joe –[Y/N] replied, remembering the phone call that had taken place not even half an hour ago, her heart still so hopeful it ached from it– He– Ben, be honest with me, okay? Okay, so, he said, well I guess he implied that– that you may have a crush on me, I think? But like, he could be wrong? Maybe he was joking.

Oh. Oh shit, this can’t be good at all. It was bound to happen eventually. But everything was so perfect (could be more, though, always more) when they were together, running over his lines and practicing impressions until their stomachs hurt from the laughter, drinking tea when it was still impossibly early in the morning and then talking about anything and everything in the afternoon and late into the night, that he forgot this moment was even a possibility.

—He– he did that? –she nodded slowly, not even daring to lift her head, so scared of what she could find in his eyes (is he upset? What if he’s angry, disgusted, even?) and, even more, of what it could mean for them– I– fuck, I could kill him I swear he– listen, I don’t. I don’t want you to feel obligated, alright? This is– I can handle it, really. But I can’t stop, [Y/N], I swear I’ve tried but hell you’re just so– you. And I like you, okay? I like you so much it’s not even funny and if you give me a little more time maybe I can get over it and we’ll still be– umphh– –it felt like he was melting from the inside and bursting at the seams; her lips were soft and chapped from the cold, the absolute best thing he’s ever felt, his hands going from her face to her waist, not knowing where to settle, where to even begin. Months of waiting and craving seemed like nothing (and yet, meant everything) now, knowing that this was at the end of the line.

—You’re an idiot, you know?

She giggled and he fell in love all over again.

Maybe he would thank Joe, after all.

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Any interest in doing song fics? Asking for a friend

hi there! yes, of course! i'm up to pretty much anything i guess?

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hi everyone! so this is blog is pretty new (my first one in this fandom!) and i plan to use it to get back into writing (it’s been uhhhh. a while), so if you got any prompts, requests or whatever feel free to send them (please)!

btw english isn’t my first language and i’m still a little bit rusty on writing so it probably won’t turn out that good 🤷‍♀️

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(hey, hey) you got me rocking now: sneak peek

—Does it feel as good for you as it does for me? –she asked, both cold and warmth hitting her all at once and making her shiver. While the snow outside tapped the window with a dry, barely-there sound and the candles burnt bright and sharp on the bedside table, her body was still quivering under the covers, yet her voice was soft and distinguishable– Being t-together like- like this, I mean.

—Nothing feels as good as you, angel. Haven’t I been clear enough? –he chuckled; the knot caught up on his throat betraying his façade, hands still tangling and every part of his body feeling just a little bit raw (just the right amount)��� Shit, I’m still- fuck, you- you’re incredible.

She giggled, blush spreading quickly to her cheeks (and down, down, down…), hiding her face on his neck for what felt like the hundredth time. As if she wasn’t red enough. As if she could possibly be shy now, after everything.

—This isn’t just a shag, y’know?

There it is.

The room fell quiet all of sudden, yet it was the loudest it had ever been. Lonely, even though she wasn’t alone and Stevie Nick’s voice was still ringing from the vinyl playing down the hall; the one he bought that afternoon after rehearsals, blisters on his fingers and cursing under his breath, when they–

Not this again, Rog, please.

–You know that, right?

It was just so cold again, her chest now feeling like a wound being picked with a nail over and over again; rubbing, rubbing and rubbing until it broke through the skin.

You never learn, do you?