#brian was the only one they truly let Get A Little Silly With It in the way that we internet queers liked

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

love that everyone's just been going a little gill and gilbert mode the past couple of days

[mubal4]

9/13/23  

Where is our limit? – Mogollon Monster 100 Race Wrap Up

How far can we truly go? What is the limit? What are we truly made of?

The questions above where the principals behind us doing the Mogollon Monster 100 (MOG 100 for short) last weekend. Would never consider myself a veteran 100-mile ultramarathon runner. This was my fifth one since beginning this wildly, wacky, and amazing sport back in 2015. However, I am familiar with the distance, what it takes to complete them, and since none of mine have been pretty (pretty-ugly more like it 😊), there have been many lessons learned along the way. Listen, running 100 miles is crazy far and there are so many unknowns; things you don’t think of, wouldn’t think of, that do occur where you need to problem solve (more to come on that). However, there are ways to mitigate some of the unknowns and uncertainty that are apparent. This in mind, I studied the course and was able to do some training runs along the route to familiarize myself with the climbs, technicality, and conditions. We spoke to friends that have experience with running it (much gratitude Meghan & Brian) and crewing it to limit a bit of the uncertainty. We trained! And trained! And trained! The expectation was this was going to be a 100-mile not like something we’ve experienced before, just in the course, terrain, and technicality. Therefore, if we were going to do something we’ve never done before, we were going to have to train like we’ve never trained before. Come race day however, there were still a few pieces of uncertainly, some done on purpose – that would prove to help us begin to understand if we could go beyond the limits!

From the book A Runner’s Hi, by Dean Karnazes

“An ultramarathon is not a single experience, but a series of little moments, strung together in a narrative thread that becomes a complete story. Some moments are silly, others sublime; not that much different from life really. In so many ways, an ultramarathon is a microcosm of life when compressed into 100 miles of running the full breath of humanness is experienced, the physical, emotional and the spiritual. Along the path, a story gets told. What I’ve come to realize is that the ending is not what matters most. Sure, I may get another buckle today, but reaching the finish line is not the ultimate prize. It is the story that’s lived along the way and today was turning out to be one hell of a story.”

Here's the story.

The foreshadowing the weeks prior to this race was the perfect preface to what was to come. We spent the two weeks before in California with our youngest daughter Alaina for two separate soccer tournaments. In between those weeks I was also in CA for work. It actually worked out well because I only drove out once (flew the other 😊). Point being, it wasn’t the ideal type of taper weeks I would have liked, and things were not routine at all. Even the week of was not ordinary in any way but the more I thought about it, it was in line with what I was expecting the race to deliver. The day before I drove up to Pine, AZ to get settled into the cabin and wait for my wife Robin & our great friend, Michelle, who would be crewing me throughout. Originally, we had thought it was going to be Robin solo for ungodly hours up on the Mogollon Rim (rim), in a point-to-point race, driving for miles and hours trying to find out where the hell I am in a remote part of AZ with limited, if any cell service. (Yeah – a bit uncertainty and unknown there). Fortunately, Michelle committed to helping out and she was a complete rockstar for her first time ever experiencing something like this. She came up critical in a number of areas. When we all arrived separately late Friday, we talked about the game plan, made final preparations, and tried to get as much sleep as possible. Not something that comes easy before any ultra, let alone one like this. When the alarm went off @ 3am it was time to get going and by 530am I was at the starting line getting ready to tackle this beast.

There was a calmness to the air as we got a few minutes out. Race Director Noah shared some instructions and insight on the course, finer details, and wished us all luck and then the National Anthem was played. This was the first time; I can remember this being done at a race. It delivered a sense of pride, some emotion, and much energy. After feelings of anxiety, stress, wonder and excitement, we were off, and I actually felt relief and comfort.

After crossing the starting map there was no hesitation, we were immediately into our first climb. The weather was cool, the climb was gradual, and we were moving steadily. A couple of short miles we were on top of the rim for the first time and the views (from every time up there) were epic. My first thought expressed out loud – “wow.” It truly is amazing, beautiful up there and recommend having it part of a bucket list. Not the race, but certainly a trip to the top 😊!! We had several miles of smooth running before descending back down to our first aid station. Quick refueling and then it was back up for our second climb for a couple more miles, then on top of the rim again, runnable terrain, before meeting up with Robin and Michelle for the first time at mile 27ish! We all had a lot of energy at this time, and I was feeling strong. We did our first sock change and took care of the feet, iced down with a neck banana. This was however, the initial point where my stomach started to act a bit off. I had been eating pretty well up to this point and staying consistent with food, but nothing sounded good to me at this time. I did though, stuff a few things in my head and got back at it. We had a few miles on top of the rim road (gravel road) before making a big descent down to a major aid station at mile 32ish. This is where the fun started!!! As I left the girls, just a few minutes out, my pack felt loose and bouncy as I ran. Not normal!! It is usually snug to my upper body. I didn’t think too much of it and kept running and for about 5 minutes the whole right side broke off. Think of having a backpack on and the right strap broke off. I was essentially running with that! No bueno for another 80+ miles. Here is where problem solving comes in…. fortunately, I had some athletic tape in my back so as I continued moving, I put that pack on the front of my body and worked to tape it up the best I can. In the meantime, I was trying to call Robin (remember remoteness and bad cell service) and fortunately she picked up. I told her the news and thankfully she and Michelle were able to catch me. Cue the MacGyver music cause this is where Michelle went to work. She was able to use leukotape (very stick & strong tape) to solidly put the pack together, while they “went to town” (a couple hour roundtrip) to see if they can get me another before meeting back up about 20 miles later.

That pack ended up holding up for the rest of the race but did cause a bunch of cuts/scrapes on my back because it wasn’t as snug, but we used that same leukotape to take care of that mess too. Leukotape – it’s the new duct tape!! The next 20 or so miles are some of the toughest of the course. There is that long descent as mentioned, and then several miles of rolling hills in an exposed area below the rim and then another brutal climb known as Myrtle. Fortunately, most of the time in the exposed area it was cloudy so we did get a bit of a break, just about a mile before the climb started. The sun popped back up and it seemed to warm quickly. The technical terrain, my stomach not on par, the heat and now the climb, started to pull me into my first real dark spot of the day. The climb up Myrtle is very tight, technical, steep, and at some points it doesn’t seem like you are even on a trail. It was slow going but I will tell you, there were a few moments when I stopped to turn around, at this point the sun was beginning to set, and the views were amazing; even saw a rainbow. It sucked but it was pretty easy to embrace that suck with what I was seeing. Things finally began to flatten out and I was able to hit the next aid station at the top. At this point, I was nauseous, and no food sounded good. I tried a few things but no dice. I took a seat, took in some salt (chips), downed some ginger ale, and I was on my way again. Fortunately, I’d be seeing Robin and Michelle for the second time in a few miles – that was giving me the energy I needed to get there.

As I began approaching what was the Buck Springs aid station, I began hearing faint noises. At this point, I was running near the edge of the rim to my left side, and it sounded like coyotes howling. Although I was a bit beat up, I wasn’t at the point where I was hearing things (yet 😊), and nightfall was just on us. The closer I got to Buck Springs the more I realized that was where the noise was coming from – it was an all-out party, on top of the rim, in the middle of nowhere and the volunteers and crews were having a blast. It was an immediate bolt of inspiration considering the last climb that happened, the 4th one. I came upon Robin and Michelle, and they went right to work. The last stretch did take a toll on me, my stomach was still queasy, but my body and mind were in good spirits. We had two jobs at this point, taking care of the feet with cleaning them up and sock change, and eating. They both went through a cycle of different types of food for me to eat and settled on grapes (thanks again Michelle, best grapes I ever had 😊), broth and a load of potatoes and salt. I also took a moment to get my wits about me. This was going to be one of those moments that was going to be unknown for me, and for Robin as well. There have been races that I haven’t had a pacer and actually, my last 100-miler back in October, I didn’t have one. I went through the night at that race solo. But……it was a 20-mile looped course and one I’ve run dozens of times, so it was VERY known. These next 20 miles were going to be through the night, on trails I’ve never traveled, likely by myself in the middle of nowhere. Yes, there are other runners out there, however at this point in a 100-mile race, things are very spread out. This is another moment of this race I was looking forward to – let’s see how I navigate and work through this without a pacer to keep me motivated, moving, fueled and awake 😊!!!!

When I left the girls, the trail descended a bit and was quite smooth. I actually caught up with another runner and we worked together for a few miles. We then came upon two others and the four of us started picking off miles throughout this section of the course, known as the cabin loop (passing by a few cabins, Pinchot & General Springs…..hence the name). After some time, we began dipping into and climbing out of a few canyons over several miles. During this time, not sure because it wasn’t like I was moving at blazing fast speed, I began distancing myself from the other three runners. Coming into Pinchot Cabin aid station I was feeling very good, likely because I ate before but my stomach was still not right and that stayed with me the entire race. For some reason, just couldn’t shake it. No worries, I downed a full PB&J, some caffeine, and was on my way. On my way out, I saw one dude and his pacer, talking deeply, and as I turned back to say thank you to the aid crew, the runner was heading to a caught to sleep……my hope for a short period of time and then pressing on. This next part was about 7 miles, and I was to be seeing Robin and Michelle for the last time at night. This part and more ups and downs, not as difficult as the climbs up and down the rim but for some reason it seemed relentless. It chewed me up and spit me out and by the time I reached the girls, at just over 60 miles, I was not in a good way. Physically, my muscles were good, and feet were okay too. We did another sock change and cleaned them up and I sat for a bit but didn’t have an appetite. The girls kept asking me if I wanted anything and nothing sounded good. I forced down another PB&J and then Robin, sweet Robin, asked if I wanted a lemon-lime Celsius. As I changed into dry clothes and got ready for the rest of the night, early morning hours, I grabbed the Celsius and took a sip. It was tasty, refreshing too. I then slugged the remainder of the can and it seemed to immediately give me a boost (caffeine….)! My mind had been in a dark spot, and I was hitting a low but once again, the girls, and this magic elixir got me moving again.

I wouldn’t be seeing the girls till mile 87, likely not until early afternoon so it was just me, my headlamp, and the trail for the next 10-12 hours. The descent just out of this aid station is down what is called the Powerline Climb and it sucked. There is no other way to describe this, about a mile maybe, trek over a rocky, boulder filled “trail.” During this time, another one of those things that don’t usually happen but will during a 100-miler, happen. As I planted my trekking pole and went to remove it, it got stuck between two rocks and I yanked one part right off. It was still connected with the internal cord but for some reason I was no longer able to collapse them AND, my headlamp ended up blowing up as well. All while descending this “trail” from hell. Thankfully, I made it to a section resembling an actual trail where I was able to get the pole and headlamp “fixed” and I was back moving again with Celsius energy. There was another aid station a short distance away and I again down a full PB&J – they seemed to be working for me at this time so stayed with it and went in and out quickly. The next few hours it was pretty much me out there. I had seen a few headlights a ways in front of me as the trail meandered through the trees and climbs but other than that, it was darkness with the cone of light from my lamp leading the way. I was moving, and moving well, or at least I felt like I was. I glanced at my watch occasionally and my pace is where I wanted to be heading to the 75-mile mark. I kept my head down and just kept moving forward. The silence and darkness were peaceful and my mind went to Robin and Michelle, hoping they made it back to the cabin okay (Robin confirmed that via text but didn’t get that until after…..). I was thinking about Isabella and Alaina and how they were doing. As well as our dog Bear. I had thoughts of when we committed to doing this race earlier in the year and the months of training leading up to it. I thought about the different trails and mountains climbed, people met, and research we did in preparation. More than we’ve done for past races. Technically, we were approaching 75-miles into this adventure, but the journey started way back in April!!!

Not sure if I nodded off for a quick second during my thoughts or it was a rock that I kicked but I did come out of what seemed like a trance and noticed two lights ahead on the trail. As I continued to get closer, I saw a couple more just ahead of me. The night sky was getting lighter, and the morning was beginning to wake up, just like me I guess 😊. My pace picked up as well and about a mile outside of the Geronimo aid station I was able to catch up to the 4-5 folks in front of me and we descended into the aid station as the sun was rising in the air. Getting through the night of an ultra can be one of the most demanding portions of the race. The last few hours for me were a bit serene and the dawn of this new day brought new life to me as well. I had a drop bag at this aid and was able to get another fresh set of clothes, new socks, and fueled up again. I had about 27 miles before seeing Robin and Michelle and the two last climbs of the day. I was ready to go but the Geronimo aid station was a scene of a bit of carnage. A friend was sitting there when I arrived, hadn’t seen him for about 12 hours, and unfortunately, he had decided not to go on. Another that I had passed coming into the aid did the same. And one guy, who we shared some miles with earlier in the race, came into the aid, all smiles and seemed like he had a ton of energy, was asked if he wanted anything, “nope, I’m done,” was his response. I wanted to see if I could rally these folks and all of us press on. But their race isn’t mine and vice versa. I gave my friend a pat on the back, it was his first 100-miler, he crushed it, and I was proud of him; happy as well to have shared miles. Told the others great job too and thanked the aid station volunteers. They all encouraged me to keep going and that I was doing great.

I had goosebumps when I left that aid station. The encouraging words, the new morning, knowing that we were getting toward the final quarter, and I knew this section of the course. I had trained on it a few weeks prior, so I was excited, and I was doing it almost exactly at the same time of day. After going through the night, conquering that uncertainty, and leaning into the unknown, I was somewhere familiar. This section of the course has some more rolling hills, nothing too substantial, before hitting the fifth climb. This is the shortest climb of all six but still gets a bit hairy toward the top. Navigating the rollers, I came across a runner and pacer, two from back earlier in the night, they were moving well, and we shared some short words. We had come across each other for several hours and figured we’d hit the climb together. I was surprised, by the time I got to the climb a couple miles later, they were nowhere in sight. I ended up seeing them finishing up the race as we were driving out of town…….it was good to know they kept moving on! Getting to the top was good and the trail dumped onto the rim road again and there was about a mile to Donohue aid station. There was about half-dozen runners at this when I rolled in and none that I had seen on the trails. We were all taking a bit of a breather because what was to come wasn’t going to be ideal at all!!! We were all about to take on, arguably the ugliest, toughest, most technical climb of the course. Prior to that, we were heading down a gnarly set of switchbacks and a steep grade, one that was to match the future climb. Altogether, it wasn’t far, 4 miles, but it was going to be brutal. I filled up my bottles, grabbed a handful of food and was on my way, I wasn’t going to delay the inevitable. I started to descend and told myself, “this is going to suck, it is going to hurt, it is going to be brutal, take your time, breathe, and keep moving forward.” The downhill was tough for a bit, slow and steady, then began to ease up getting closer to the bottom. After a quick left turn the climb was on and in reverse, it started off with an easy grade and then it just got as expected. It was almost breaking, but I just kept moving forward, took some stops for a few seconds, and kept climbing. It seemed to get steeper and steeper and then after some time, I began to hear voices. My head peaked over this ridge, and I heard a few people clapping. I was relieved to be at the top and after about ½ a mile I heard more cheering. I had made it to Dickerson Flat aid station and the final time I would see Robin and Michelle before the finish!!

It had been about 12 hours since I had seen them and yes, they were a sight for sore eyes…..and feet. Those 20 miles between our time together had tested me but not defeated me. My muscles were still feeling good, but my feet were banged up. Bones were sore and my hip/groin was beginning to bother me. I also started to begin feeling hotspots on my feet but decided not to change socks. I wanted in and out of this aid station fast. With about 15 miles to go, it was time to get to that finish line. Lemon-lime Celsius and PB&J made another appearance, and, in a few minutes, I was back on the rim road for about 5 miles before heading into Pine Canyon. This is a great view from the top of the rim looking into this canyon, all the way down, about 2 miles to the bottom. Although the view is pretty the trail down is not. Very technical, steep and switch backs several times before flattening out at the bottom. Now the trail was level, pretty smooth and was winding through some pine trees. The temps were nice, and the overcast skies made it much cooler. This was ideal since I was headed into the final stretch, which was mostly exposed. This was the second exposed part of the course I had mentioned but today, it was cloudy, and was starting to drizzle a bit. This made the next 8 or so miles to Pine Trail head, even with its climbs and descents, thankfully the final ones of the race, tolerable. There was a point on this stretch that I thought I was going the wrong way. I hadn’t seen anyone for a few miles, I was still following the markers, but didn’t realize this last stretch had so many climbs. I had even done this part of the course a year earlier at another race. I guess was beginning to lose my mind with being up for 40 hours, so I was getting a bit freaky 😊. I just kept moving and had some energy to run some of the flatter downhill areas. About 3 miles before I was to hit the last trailhead and get into the final stretch, I came upon a man, and what I found out to be his daughter. He was moving really slow – almost a crawl. I stopped to check in on him. He had said he hurt his knee quite badly and, to a point, needed to be held up by his daughter. He seemed to have his wits about him but had trouble staying upright. He still had a few hours to finish and with only 5 miles left, I believed he was going to make it. I did let the race folks know at the finish line that he was out there, but I had confidence he was going to get there. A few rolling hills later I saw the trailhead and water stations and realized that this journey, this test, was about 20 minutes from ending. The last, almost 2 miles, is on the roads through the town of Pine with the finish being at the community center. I crossed the main road and headed through this neighborhood, that dumped me out onto the main road. With about ½ mile left, you can see where the finish turns into the community center and I was able to see Robin and Michelle standing, almost in the road, waving me in. Strong feeling of emotion filled me, and my pace picked up to a solid run, faster than I had run for many hours. It is funny how the sight of your crew and the smell of that finish gives you that kick to run faster in the last mile of a 100-mile race than you had run at the start. As soon as I hit the line, some pictures were taking, and hugs were given by not only Robin and Michelle but folks from Aravaipa racing.

The race was over, and the journey completed. As I am sitting here a week later from the day the race started, I still haven’t had it set in deep. I’ve reflected on it, Robin and I’ve spoken about it a little, but who it drove me to become and where the next step will take me is unknown right now. I am clear though on the fact that what we set out to do, what I outlined above, for this race, came to fruition. I wanted to be tested, moreso, then I had ever been in a race. I wanted to hurt, be pushed to and beyond limits, go into deep pain caves, and sit there. And deal with it! I wanted to be in the mountains and woods at night, by myself without anyone around, with my thoughts on how to keep my mind and body moving forward. As mentioned, it was pretty ugly, mistakes were made and, yes, many things were not ideal. But we did it and I am grateful for all those that helped me along the way.

Thank you to #aravaiparunning, Brian and Meghan Slavin, all the volunteers, participants, crews, families, friends. Thanks for all the text and words of encouragement before, during and after the race. All those that have reached out – you reaching out means more than you can imagine. To Isabella & Alaina, one at college and the other playing in soccer tournaments all weekend, thank you for thinking of your old-man and reaching out throughout the journey. I love you both very much and am so very proud of you. To Michelle, the rookie crew member – what can I say, you freaking rocked it. You know have a lifetime spot on our team 😊. Really appreciate you – love you! To Robin – we’ve talked about it so much these last few months and in the last week. This was an adventure from the start, and we knew the journey was going to be way different than we’ve experienced before. We knew we were going to have to do things way differently than we had done before. However, when things started last Saturday and until we crossed that finish line, I knew – no matter where this journey was going to take us, I was where I was supposed to be and who I was supposed to be with. Thanks for being my partner and my guide throughout this experience. Glad we can do it together. “Once you decide to run 100 miles, you’re not in charge anymore. Those in charge are your former and future selves. During the race, when you don’t want to keep going and life’s awful, just remember your former self wanted to do this and your future self wants you to finish. Let those two be your guides.” – Eric Senseman

[girldigital]

birth control pilled

Sorry it’s been a minute since my last entry. I’ve actually not been doing too bad. I’m just not sure as to what to say anymore. I’ve been feeling like I’m in limbo. Wow this is what Microsoft Word was suggesting: “I’ve been feeling like I’m in love with”. Has the AI been picking up on my desperation? Maybe. Even if I’m not sure it’s love. I’m over so many things. Age makes you a bit jaded, I think. Nothing really feels anchored into anything. I have a job and a few friends. I have my chosen family who are truly the only people I can’t live without. I buy silly little things to make me feel better about the fact that I hate my job. Okay, perhaps hate is a strong word, but I do need to find something else asap. I don’t know what is up with my life. I could start crying at my desk right now if I wanted to.

Maybe it’s the birth control? Probably not. Being aimless and unloved is a pretty valid reason to cry... Unsurprisingly, Big is still unanswered in my DMs. I don’t even know how I feel about it anymore. Okay, obviously, I’m still happy - I’d rather be with that than without and it is ideal given the fact that there’s nothing I want more than to fuck him again when I’m home - but what if that doesn’t happen? What’s all this? What’s this censorship of mine? What’s this control I’m exerting over my online presence only in order to keep weaving this intricate web path back into his bed? If last time was indeed our last, then why are we still talking? Why won’t he let me go? Why do I always look back once I’ve walked away?

The answer is simple I guess: He’s the only person I’ve ever cared about. The only person that’s ever made me feel loved even if I wasn’t.

Like a dessert you keep taking one more bite of, I keep giving you one more kiss because I can’t fathom this could be the last. Insatiable and can’t get enough. I keep giving you one more kiss like I’m taking one more bite of a dessert. I crave you like no other. I see you when I close my eyes. Why? How have I gotten myself this trapped? Every move I make makes it harder for me to get out.

I’m reading the summary of L’Ecume des Jours and it’s bringing me to tears. A book I hated reading in high school, mind you. Now I know it’s the birth control talking.

Anyway, it’s kind of making me want to write a surreal novel as well. One that, too, talks about love and jazz and the nonsense of living. I’m actually about to cry bitch. What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I need to get drunk and purge all hell from inside? Have I reached unparalleled levels of loneliness? Is God punishing me for not fasting? My kuffiyeh-wearing, fellow arab coworker isn’t fasting either and he seems fine. I haven’t gotten around to asking him where he’s from yet.

Anyway, back to my novel. Not sure how I should go about it. Then again, I’ve got about a thousand projects I’d like to start and none I actually do. But I’d love to do that, with a soundtrack to match. It’d be really cool. You know what Brian Eno said? He said ambient music must be as ignorable as it is interesting. I hope I can make something along those lines, for I hate being distracted when I read, but I also love being unexpectedly sonically surprised. I have some things to mention about Brian Eno after attending his talk also, but I can keep that for another entry. It was pretty crazy though, to hear one of the greats in an auditorium saying things about music that I tend to say on first dates. Great minds think alike what can I say…

[quixotic-writer]

Truth or Truth?

Request: Anon

Summary: Q and Sal are in a double punishment. Q is hooked up to a lie detector and is forced to answer questions about his relationship with his girlfriend who just so happens to be Sal’s sister. Whether he likes it or not, the truth will be revealed.

Warning: Smut ahead!

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“Well, seems both Sal and Q have lost the episode.” Murr announces to the cameras with absolute joy that for once he wasn’t the one being miserably punished. Sal and Q nod their heads in defeat and chuckle out of fear of what awaits them on the stage beyond the curtain of the theatre they were stationed at for the day.

“Which means a double punishment is out there waiting for you guys.” Joe says with an equal level of glee as Murr.

“Can we just get to it now, I'm sweating buckets and I just wanna get this over with.” Sal says as he wipes his hands on the sides of his pants to rid his palms of the sweat that was building up.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get you guys out on that stage!” The two men are laughing as the other two did as they were instructed. There on the stage were two chairs. One of those chairs was next to a table filled with wires and equipment, the other had rope surrounding it. Sal and Q both look at each other with eyebrows raised in question of the curious set up. “Sal you will be taking the chair on the left, Q you get the chair on the right next to that machine we’ll get you hooked up to.” The minute he heard the phrase ‘get you hooked up,’ Q knew exactly what the boys had in store.

He complied without saying anything, it was a punishment after all and it’s not like he could evacuate or run away anywhere. He watched as Sal was sat in his chair and tied up good and well to it.

“Guys I thought this was a double punishment. Why am I just being tied to a chair and Q getting hooked up to a lie detector test? What are you gonna do? Ask him how many times he’s fantasized about fictional women while jacking off?” Sal laughs. Little did he know what the guys had in store for this special use of the lie detector test.

“So our buddy Q here has been dating Sal’s sister – (Y/N) – for quite a while now.” Joe said with a toothy grin on his face. They watched as Sal’s face dropped immediately to shock and disgust.

“So we’ve hooked Q up to a lie detector test and we’ll be asking him a few questions about their relationship.” Both Murr and Joe were laughing. “But wait! It gets better!”

“There’s only one audience member besides us here.” When the lights brightened slightly, rows of chairs could be made out now in their line of vision, and so could the one solitary audience member sitting front and center: (Y/N).

“That’s Sal’s sister!” Murr says with jubilation. You could watch the color completely drain from Sal and Q’s face.

“That’s right Sal, you have to look at your sister and your best friend as we ask all these questions and you have to hear the honest truth about it all no matter how dirty.” Sal was freaking out wanting to break free of the constraints that bound him to the chair. He was begging and pleading for anything else as the two winners of the episode were laughing at his fruitless pleas. Q had his face in his hands and his face was regaining its color in only a single shade. He was red as a fire engine knowing exactly where this was about to go. He lifted his head slightly to be met with the eyes of his lover. She sheepishly waved with a smile and he did the same.

“There’s no escaping or compromising a punishment Sal, you lost and this is what you get!” Sal had stopped thrashing and now had his eyes set on the ceiling staring off into nothing. “Let’s start with the first question!”

“Let’s start easy: Have you ever kissed her,” Q huffed as his eyebrows furrowed together. What a silly question, “With tongue?” And there was the searing bit and his expression was wiped clean off of his face.

~

It was early on in their dating days, they decided on a movie night at Q’s place. It was warm and cozy, intimate and serene. She had her head resting on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around her, holding her in close so that he could be closer to each and every piece of her. Because they were together for only a short time at that moment, Q feared making moves as to not upset her and cause a rift between him and Sal. It was already hard enough getting Sal warmed up to them, it would make things worse if he accidentally made a move she wasn’t comfortable with and Sal would have even more reason to disapprove of what they had going on. So while he seemed relaxed, he was actually freaking out on the inside.

That’s when their eyes locked on each other, her hand was placed gently on his cheek as she smiled and started inching in closer. Her hand was moving in closer and he went with it, seeing as all the signals were there and he was given the green light. Their lips met and he could taste the popcorn on her lips, he went in for another, and another. She felt addicting, he loved it and wanted more. That’s when her tongue traced along his lips, he hesitated.

“Don’t be so stiff B. I know you want more.” She whispered against his lips. She was right, that’s when things started getting heated. He brought her onto his lap, she was then straddling him and their lips met with each other once again, parted and allowed their tongues to intertwine. He could taste her so much better and he knew he was in deep.

The rest of that evening was truly memorable.

~

“Y-yes.” He answered honestly.

“He’s telling the truth.” The polygraph reader spoke as he watched the readings carefully. Sal’s face contorted in disgust as laughter echoed through the theatre.

“Next question: Have you done it on Sal’s bed or in his house?” Q squeezes his eyes shut.

“Brian I swear, you better think long and hard about how you answer this. You have house sat for me many times. If you say yes.”

~

Sal was away on a comedy tour and to go visit his mom. Q was handed the responsibility to watch over his house and make sure that everything was kept clean. Sal stated that he didn’t mind if he stayed the night at his place if he ever drank or if he just felt like it, so long as everything was kept in proper order when he came back. That much Q could do. He never said anything about his girlfriend being over as well.

It started as it always did: chilling out in the living room. They were playing Mario Kart together and the competition was getting heated. Nothing made Q happier than having a girlfriend he could play video games with, especially competitively. Both of them already started playing a little dirty, bumping each other playfully, blocking their view of the screen during important jumps, and so on. They were having the time of their life until she took things a step further.

As they were on their second lap, she sat on Q’s lap and started circling her hips. Q had a hard time focusing on the screen now that something else began to catch his interest. She kept going and she could feel him starting to grow hard under her. He bit his lip to not moan and show weakness and focused as much of his attention on the screen as best as he could.

“(Y/N). T-that’s cheating. You play… Dirty.” She had her eyes on the screen and now added noises as she gyrated her hips.

In the end, Q crossed the finish line first and ended up winning.

“Well, B. Looks like you won.” She said with a devilish smirk on her face, “I guess you’ve earned yourself a prize.” She slithers down to her knees and settles between Q’s legs as he sits on the couch. She pulls down his pants along with his boxers as his member throbs in front of her eyes. Q’s lips are already parted as his breath hitches at the sight before him. She licks her lips and immediately takes him as far into her mouth as she could. He lets out a low groan as his eyes close to take in the sensation.

“Fucking hell baby.” He says as his hand goes to the back of her head as his hips start to work and fuck her mouth. He was already aching for release as she was grinding against him, so his inevitable end was already building up like a skyscraper. “(Y/N). Sweetheart. God. You’re gonna make me cum.” He was at the edge of absolute euphoria, he had control of her as he tangled his hand in her hair and guided her faster up and down his cock until he shoved her down and released in her mouth. “Swallow.” He commanded, and she did exactly that. All evidence of his climax gone. He pulls her up for a kiss before lifting her and allowing his feet to carry them to where he would now be staying for the night: Sal’s room.

~

“Do I really have to answer this one?” Q asked as he began sweating profusely as he remembered each sensation pertaining to his answer.

“Hurry up and answer! You’ve never had problems talking about your sex life before tough guy.” Joe criticizes.

“No.” A blatant lie and they all probably knew. This answer was proven false after the polygraph interpreter stated so. Sal was glaring at Q and Q dared not make eye contact at that moment.

“You guys have ravaged my house for a punishment before, but SEX in MY HOUSE?!?! Not only that but WITH MY SISTER?!” Q wanted nothing more than just to disappear.

“Next question. Oh this one's good!” Q closed his eyes again, bracing himself for the next question, “Had she ever called you daddy?” His cheeks felt like they were on fire now. “Not like how you refer to yourself when talking about your cats either. You know exactly how we mean it.”

~

The room was filled with the sounds of the bed frame squeaking and moans eliciting from open mouths along with steamy breath that stuck to their skin. Q was thrusting his hips roughly into her as she raked her nails down his back, leaving her own mark on him.

“You like that baby? Like when I fuck you hard?”

“Yes! Yes!” Her words felt like they were being forced out of her with each snap of his hips as he hit just the right spots to drive her crazy.

“Yes, what?” He asked her as he slowed to an agonizing pace. She wrapped her legs around him to try and speed things up, bringing him in closer despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything until that one word was uttered. “C’mon (Y/N). Let me hear it. Yes, what?” His hot breath fell in her ear and sent chills through her and she could feel her clit throb as she bit her lip and moaned at the authoritative tone.

“Yes daddy.” His hips picked right back up as the familiar sound of skin on skin began to echo once again in the room. “Fuck I love it when you fuck me like this. Harder. Please, daddy.” Each time she said it, it brought him closer and closer to climax.

“God I love when you call me that sweetheart.” He licked his thumb and began rubbing circles around her clit as he continued working his hips against hers. Whining as she felt her climax begin to wash over her, Q wasn’t that far behind as he began to grunt and moan with each thrust as he felt her tremble beneath him. “Gonna cum baby, you’re so perfect.”

~

Q wondered if the air conditioning in the place was even on. If it was, they needed to crank it if not his shirt was sure to be drenched in sweat by the time this punishment was over.

“Uuuh.”

“Not an answer buddy.” Q really didn’t want to answer this. He could feel Sal’s gaze boring holes into him. He knew how his best friend felt about his relationship which is why he never said a thing about their sex life like he had with previous relationships. He respected Sal that way and always made sure to treat his sister well. But the pickle he was in now was making this dynamic extremely difficult.

“I uuh.” He was choking on words. There was no sense in lying, but maybe, just maybe if he believed hard enough he could trick the lie detector into believing he was telling the truth. He took a breath, said over and over in his head that he was telling the truth, steadied himself, and “no.” He tried saying it with honest conviction.

“A lie.” Yup. He definitely wanted to crawl in a hole now. All three of the other men were hollering at the answer. Q looked at (Y/N) and she was just as red as he was but she was laughing. He wasn’t sure how she could be laughing at this moment, but for some reason it put him slightly at ease knowing that this wasn’t torture for her like it was for him.

“Okay last question Q.” Sal had been mostly silent for the last few minutes and Q just knew that Sal wanted him dead or something else. He was lucky there were restraints holding him back because god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t. Q was mentally bracing himself for something absolutely revolting that he would have to answer for, something that would really make Sal lose his mind. Dildos, sneaking off on tour together to have sex, road head, he was ready to answer for it and face the consequences. “Do you love her?”

~

It was early in the morning and sun peered through the windows of his house. As he opened his eyes, there she was. Her eyes closed and her breathing steady, all the cats were curled up around her and all were surprisingly still asleep as well. She was dreaming and he knew it. Seeing her so peacefully asleep made him happy. It wasn’t only that. It was knowing she was happily asleep in his bed, next to him that made his heart flutter and burst with joy. Waking up and seeing her was unlike anything he’s ever felt.

He crawled out of bed carefully. In the kitchen he began to cook up some breakfast for them and also to feed the needy little kittens. As he was at the stove, he heard her shuffle in. He looked over his shoulder and saw her, eyes hooded and still half asleep, a little smile tugging at her lips, hair covering most of her face. She was just the most beautiful person ever and he couldn’t think otherwise.

“Morning sunshine.” He says with a smile on his face, voice still groggy from waking up.

“Mornin’ B.” She made her way over and hugged him from behind, leaning on him as she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply smelling his morning musk and the food that was cooking. “Smells so good.” She mumbled. His heart was just exploding and he couldn’t stop smiling.

As they ate breakfast, she spoke most of the time and that was just how he liked it. He never tired of her voice, never tired of hearing her talk, never tired of being around her. She noticed the dopey look on his face as she spoke and she stopped and gave him a bit of a side glance and a smile.

“What’s with you this morning Bri? You’ve been acting all mushy. Not that I'm complaining or this is out of the ordinary.”

“I just like hearing you talk.” He said truthfully. “And it’s just–”

~

“–I love her.” He spoke with a smile on his face. “I really do. No doubt about that. There’s no one else I've been more in love with than her. Every part of her. Good and bad. I love her.” He looked her in her eyes, recalling each countless moment they’ve had with each other. Every time he was around her, he felt like a high schooler again. So bashful, so in love, hopelessly so. There was no one else for him.

“It’s all true.” The polygraph reader spoke with a smile. Sal looked at Q, then looked at his sister and saw them just entranced with each other. Hearing everything Q had to say was true made his anger quickly slide away. He wanted his friend to be happy, he couldn’t keep them apart. Despite thinking this was an absolutely terrible idea at the start, perhaps this changed things.

“That’s it Q. Interrogations over.” Both men were released from their punishment prisons and were left to face each other.

“So. You really love her, huh?” Q smirked as he felt the butterflies thinking about her again.

“More than you could imagine.” He said with confidence. He felt her arms wrap around him and he turned around to see her eyes sparkling like constellations at midnight. He wrapped his arms around her tight and gave her a kiss.

“Listen, I know i’ve been hard on you Q. Just protective of my sister y’know?”

“I get it, Sal. But I can promise you wholeheartedly that I’d never do anything to hurt her ever.”

“Might wanna hook him up to the lie detector again.” Joe said as he walked by. Q rolled his eyes.

“I know. I just want you to promise one other thing.”

“Anything.” Q leaned in attentively.

“I never wanna hear anything about your sex life ever again.” (Y/N) snickered as Q felt his face heating up in shame again.

“Deal.”

[brian-roger-deaky-and-fred]

Filling Blanks: Part IV (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Summary: A spin-off of Fill in the Blanks. Follows the life of Roger, Winnie, and Y/N as they learn what it means to be a family.

Warnings: Kissing, Self-Deprecation, References to Sex, Angst (happy ending!!)

A/N: Hello Angels!! It's been a while! I've gotten some requests for a Part Four so here we are! Let me know what you'd think and if you'd like for me to continue. I have another requested Rog smut coming out soon!! All my love!!

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Roger sat on the edge of the bed anxiously, fidgeting as he waited for her. He'd done this a few times now, and still, his heart still ricocheted around in his chest. He swallowed thickly, trying to relax his clenched jaw. Y/N could hear him tapping a beat against the floor with his foot as she capped the test, laying it flat on the countertop so she could wash her hands. Roger's sweet blue eyes lit up when she opened the bathroom door. She chuckled a little, laying down on the bed and opening her arms for Roger to come snuggle up into, which he happily obliged.

 "Still have to wait five minutes, love." She smiled lazily, rubbing the furrow from his brow with her thumb. His eyes fluttered at the sweet touch. "Where's Win? You put her down for a nap?"

That got him to smile a little. He nodded, "She passed right out after you fed her lunch. Guess she just needed a full belly."

Y/N giggled. Winnie was nearly two and a half, and growing much too fast for either of their liking. She'd started walking a little late, which of course worried Roger to no end, but now the pitter patter of her little feet served as a faithful alarm clock to Y/N each morning when Roger scooped her up out of her crib, cooing to her and grinning all the way.

"My pretty blonde loves", Y/N would always hum through yawns as Rog let their baby girl onto the bed to crawl into her mumma's arms.

"She's a good eater." Roger yawned as his wife scratched his head lovingly. "She's a good girl..."

Y/N smiled softly, love in her eyes, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. Roger, of course, didn't settle for this for a moment. He immediately tilted his head back to find her lips, pulling her into a proper kiss through her giggles.

They almost got lost in each other for a moment. That is, until Roger remembered what they'd been doing in the first place. He pulled back, pressing one last peck to her lips, "Do you think the test is ready?"

She smiled and nodded, and Roger sat up on the side of the bed, padding over to the bathroom. He picked up the little test quickly, like a child opening a Christmas present.

His shoulders immediately sunk. He stood there for a minute, silent.

"Rog-...."

"It's negative."

Her heart deflated a little at the disappointment and confusion in his voice. She stood from the bed, taking the test from his hands gently and tossing it in the trash. His eyes still didn't meet her's. Soothingly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him hold her around the waist. "Hey...'s ok..." She cradled his face in one hand, coaxing him to look at her. " 's alright, Rog."

 He kissed her softly, as if he wasn't quite convinced by her words. The disappointment in his eyes made her chest ache.

"Look at me..." she whispered, lifting his chin tenderly until he complied. The corners of her mouth tugged up as she admired him, "Just means we get to keep trying."

He fought his smile, but though it was weak, it was genuine. " 'suppose that's not the end of the world..."

Y/N held him back just as tightly, "I love you too, silly boy."

...

Y/N could tell it was starting to bother him. The more they tried the more she saw it. It only happened when Winnie wasn't there to distract him. Keep him smiling.

The first time she'd noticed, they'd left Winnie with Clare for the night to go out together for dinner with the rest of the boys and their spouses. It was fun. Truly fun. And Roger had been all smiles until Brian offered Ronnie some wine.

She giggled a little, "I'm alright, love. Thank you, though!"

The guitarist frowned a little, "You're sure? I thought this was your favorite, right? Or am I thinking of another?"

She blushed, fiddling with a lock of her blonde hair. "Oh no...No it is! 's what we had at our wedding actually!" She smiled, squeezing Deaky's hand. He grinned, love in his eyes, and gave her a nod. "We um...we weren't planning on saying anything yet but..."

"No!! You're joking!" Chrissy gasped, grabbing Mary's hand.

Brian grinned, "Christ, you're pregnant!? God, you can't help yourselves can you!"

John laughed loudly, his eyes excited. Roger stiffened a little in his chair. Y/N glanced at him, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He smiled, chuckling to himself at Brian's joke, but it was easy for Y/N to see through. Her chest ached for him.

Mary jumped up to make her way around the table to Ronnie, pulling her into a hug. "Oh Ronnie! Number four! Wow! Laura isn't even three yet!"

Y/N squeezed Roger's hand again, his going a bit limp. He stood from the table, his friends going silent. He froze for a second before giving a watery smile, chuckling, "Congrats, Ronnie...John..." He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Sorry...not feeling well. Excuse me. I'll be back in a moment."

Concern weighed on Y/N's brow as he left. Their friends returned to their conversation, too distracted with Deacon baby number four to notice the odd behavior. That is, except for Brian, who gave Y/N a reassuring pat on the back.

Just as she was about to go check on him, Roger returned, looking a bit better, and bought dessert for the table.

" 's not fair." He groaned later that night as Y/N rubbed his bare back sweetly, his hair still wet from the shower. She carded her fingers through his blonde locks as he sighed. "John's knocked Ronnie up four bloody times now and I can't even knock you up once."

His wife hummed softly, chuckling at his wording as she kissed his temple. "Sweetheart..." Y/N didn't understand why Roger had convinced himself it was somehow his fault.

Roger turned in her arms, crawling further up onto the bed so he could lay his damp head in her lap. She stroked his hair, scratching lightly to make him groan blissfully. His skin was warm and soft, a few residual beads of water rolling down from the nape of his neck. Y/N gently brushed them away with her thumb, smiling to herself. "Always been so gorgeous, Rog..."

His sleepy eyes fluttered a little, and he turned over a bit to look up at her. "You still think so? Even with the pudge?"

Y/N frowned, "What are you on about? What pudge?"

Roger patted his soft tummy lightly, " 'm getting soft. Working on my dad belly." He smiled sweetly.

Y/N grinned, climbing overtop to straddle him, pinching his barely-there tummy softly. "Especially with the pudge."

He smiled wildly, grabbing her hips playfully. She squealed, and Roger flipped her over, pressing kisses to her neck all the way up to her lips. Y/N sighed happily, letting him snake a hand under her shirt to run his fingers up and down her middle, lovingly.

"I've got you." Y/N whispered softly, cradling his face. "It'll be alright. These things take time."

"Not for John and Veronica."

Y/N giggled at his grumbled response, and Rog couldn't help but stifle a smile.

...

Roger had been a little more clingy than usual. He'd always been very touch oriented, but as the weeks went along, he found himself holding onto Y/N even more than usual.

He'd always been a very heavy sleeper, sprawled out over the bed like a starfish with an arm thrown over her middle protectively, but he'd recently grown to where he had to have her curled right up against his chest where he could feel her heartbeat and hear her mumble through her little dreams. He held her hand more often, like a security blanket, even when they were just lazing about at home. He seemed quiet and sleepy.

Y/N held him close now as he finally rested, brushing his wispy blonde hair from his eyes as he snored softly. Her beautiful boy. She loved having him close... having him needy and soft for her, but it worried her. He hadn't been sleeping well. That much she knew.

Part of it was anxiety. With every negative pregnancy test Roger felt more inadequate. All he wanted was to give Win a brother or a sister. He felt like he was letting her down, in a way. Letting both of his girls down. He'd started having nightmares about waking up to an empty flat. It scared him so bad he could hardly sleep anymore, the idea of waking up alone in his bed. Finding Winnie's crib empty.

He was supposed to fill in the blanks. He was supposed to be everything they needed, but now he couldn't be.

Y/N told him a million times that everything would be ok. That she loved him and Winnie loved him. She told him it was normal. That lots of women couldn't get pregnant for a long time after having a baby.

But something in Roger knew that he was the problem. That he was falling short in some way. Something was wrong with him.

He didn't want Y/N to see. Didn't want to worry her or cause trouble. He tried so hard not to let on, getting his frustration with himself out on his drums. He'd broken a lot of sticks lately.

His heart finally hit its breaking point one night when he was washing dishes. Y/N had been a few days late. They'd tried not to get their hopes up too much. The home test was negative. But then Y/N had felt a little nauseous the next morning. She decided to go in for a test at her doctor's office.

All day, Roger had held the tiniest sliver of hope in his chest as he watched his little Winnie. Maybe the test was wrong. Maybe it was morning sickness. Maybe.

It wasn't. Y/N gently told Roger the test had come back negative as he finished up the dishes, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek as she went to put Winnie to bed.

She found him later in their room, back turned to the door as he laid on top of the covers.

"Roger..." Y/N whispered, heart sinking. "Rog..." He didn't move.

She crawled up onto the bed carefully, in case he'd fallen asleep. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and it was only then when she could feel his soft sobs. "Oh my love..." She laid down behind him, and he immediately loosened his arms to allow her to wrap her's around him, holding him close to her from behind. She snuggled her nose against his back, wishing she could make his hurt go away.

Neither of them said anything for a long time. She just held him close to her, listening to his heartbeat and swallowing the knot forming in her throat until the blonde's sobs began to quiet, his tears slowing. Silence floated around them comfortably, inturupted only by the odd sniffle here and there. When Roger spoke, it was soft and weak, but felt like a knife to the heart.

" 's not fair."

His voice was croaky. A small tear escaped down Y/Ns cheek. She held him tighter. "I know."

" 's-..." he sniffled, trailing off. " 's not fair that that asshole was able to give you a baby and I can't."

Her eyes closed, letting more tears slip down her cheeks. "Rog-..."

"What am I doing wrong?" He turned over onto his back, looking into his wife's eyes with his red, teary ones. "What's wrong with me to where He can give you Winnie and I can't give you anything at all-"

"Roger." Her voice was more stern this time, stopping his words in their tracks. "He did not give me Winnie." There was a long silence. He couldn't make eye contact. Gently she reached over to brush away his tears, cradling his face. "Look at me, love."

Hesitantly, he looked up, meeting her eyes, and he looked so ashamed of himself that she could've shattered.

"He did not give me Winnie, Roger Taylor. You said it yourself a long long time ago. He doesn't deserve for that baby to be his."

Roger frowned, still not fully convinced.

"Charlie didn't help that baby grow. He didn't make her a home. He didn't protect her. He didn't name her. He doesn't kiss her cheeks and make her laugh and love her. That's You. Charlie's not who she calls daddy, Rog, That's You." Y/N spoke firmly, fully confident on the matter as she pointed at Roger's heart. Frustrated tears welled in her eyes, desperate to take away this awful idea in her love's head. "She's not his. She's yours. She's yours and she has always been yours. You gave me her. And you gave me us and you kept me safe and healthy and loved and don't you dare say you've never given me anything because you've given me Everyth-."

Roger kissed her, catching her words with his lips. He held her tight, his hand snaking up to lace in her hair, relaxing her. For the first time in a long while, the ache in his chest pattered away. "I'm sorry." He whispered against her lips. "I'm sorry, you're right. You're right. Winnie's my girl. My perfect girl. I'm sorry." He brushed tears from her face, heartbroken that he'd upset her so badly. Tenderly, he kissed her cheeks, apologizing with gentle pecks of his soft lips against her temples and neck. "I didn't mean it...just got so frustrated with myself. Feels like...like there's something wrong with me. Feels like I'm letting you down. Both of you."

"No..." Y/N whimpered, rubbing at her glossy eyes. "Rog I'm happy and Winnie's happy. Sibling or no sibling. She's so happy. You're her whole world." Roger's chest ached again, but this time it was different. It wasn't so hollow anymore. He felt full. So full and content and so fucking relieved that he couldn't help but hold her so safe in his arms. Y/N sniffled, meeting his glossy eyes. " 's our little family, Rog. It's perfect. No matter what."

He held onto her for the rest of the night, letting her coo to him softly and dote over him, brushing tears from his lashes.

"I'm sorry..." Roger hummed softly as she cradled his face, pressing his cheek into her hand. "I'm sorry I...I should've talked to you. You're my best friend...God, you're my best friend. I've been so daft."

She hushed him sweetly, kissing the tip of his nose and his forehead. " 's ok...it's all ok. We're ok. Just wanna make you feel better now. Wanna kiss it better."

So he let her.

...

Roger drowned his self-conciousness and anxiety in his perfect baby girl, taking a few days off from the studio to stay home with her. The thoughts of his own short comings seemed so distant as he watched his Winnie toddle around, nursing her dummy and offering him different toys from her little collection. Well worn lovies she'd been showered with during her two years, mostly from Fred and the other boys. She presented them to him one by one, as if showing them off to him as she stumbled around, babbling to herself. Even when she'd tumbled a bit, misstepping and landing on her little bottom, she squealed and clapped her hands, giggling and smiling so big that Roger couldn't help but grin in return. He scooped her up, laughing and tickling her little belly, "My silly girl..."

Part of him wished he could stay with her all the time, spending his day folding the laundry and taking care of his girl so Y/N could go and work. He'd bring her to the studio more, he decided. She kept the boys from fighting, anyways.

It was about an hour after Winnie's bath when she fell asleep, that night. Her wet curls had dried into soft blonde waves, and her empty sippy cup sat on the coffee table as Roger held his sleeping girl. She'd been decidedly anti-pajamas that night, so she slept against Roger's chest naked, aside from her dummy and her diapered bottom.

Roger smoothed her hair back from her sweet chubby face, admiring her thick eyelashes as they rested against her cheeks. From the time she'd been born, Roger loved holding his girl. Something about feeling her warm weight on his chest and hearing her steady breaths, feeling her heartbeat...it was pure bliss. To know she was safe and happy in his arms.

She stirred a little in her sleep, giving a soft whine, and Roger rubbed her back soothingly, pulling a blanket up around her as he cooed to her. " 's alright, Win. Daddy's got you..." Her breathing evened out and she gave a little sigh, gripping the collar of his shirt in her sleep. "That's it. Daddy's got you."

He found himself growing oddly emotional, a tightness forming in his throat. His little Win-Win.

For a long time, Roger had dreaded Winnie growing up. Dreaded the day she'd be too big to hold and the day she'd start preschool. But it was starting to feel less scary now. She'd grown so much over the last year, and even though she was still a baby, still sucked her fingers and slept on his chest and took a dummy, every day he'd watched her grow. Watched her learn something new. Every day he was more in love with her than the day before. 

He realized, now, that time passing would always be bittersweet, but it only meant that his love for his wife and his sweet Winnie Taylor would continue to grow.

He smiled to himself. His heart felt full to bursting already. It seemed impossible to love them more than he already did, but without fail, every moment got better. Warmer and sweeter and happier. Even when it was hard.

He blinked, eyes stinging, and a happy tear rolled down his cheek to land right on Winnie's forehead. He kissed it away, letting his eyes flutter shut, sleepily.

"Rog?" He glanced up to find Y/N, her brow furrowed at the sight of his glossy blue eyes.

He smiled at her, croaking her name softly.

Her heart fluttered, and she wandered over to the couch, tucking herself in under his arm. "What hurts, love? Why these tears?" Her voice was concerned as she cradled his face, thumbing them away dotingly.

"Nothing hurts." He whispered, "I'm just....I'm happy."

She chuckled softly, "Yeah?"

He nodded. There was a long silence as they sat together, admiring their sweet sleepy girl.

"Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes drifted shut, snuggling into his neck to leave kisses. "Hm?"

"I think...I think I'm not worried anymore." He whispered, his voice barely making a sound.

"Worried about what, Rog?" She cooed gently. He smiled to himself, feeling her eyelashes against his skin. He pried his gaze off of his baby girl to meet Y/Ns eyes.

"About if I'll ever be able to give you a baby." Y/N's heart fluttered in her chest. Roger glanced at Winnie again, then back to his wife. "We don't have to have another baby. We've already made a perfect one. I mean, I want it to happen. I do. But if...if we can't...You're all I need. All I could ever ask for."

"You really mean it?" She hummed softly, stroking his hair.

He nodded squeezing her free hand, "Our little family...it's complete with or without a number four. I'm happy. My heart...it's full."

Y/N smiled, her eyes full of so much adoration that Roger nearly blushed. "I love you. I love you so much."

Roger kissed her, sighing happily against her lips, and it was so gentle and tender he could have cried. "Our little family." He whispered, lifting his pinkie finger to his wife.

She hooked it with her own, giving him a squeeze. "Our little family."

...

It happened early one Saturday morning. Roger had been up late coaxing Winnie to bed, but overall, he'd been resting better. He slept now, tangled in the sheets beside Y/N in their bed as soft snores drifted from his lips. He looked so beautiful there, his messy blonde locks sticking out every which way, his cheeks and nose pink from being pressed against his pillow, and his thick eyelashes resting against his skin.

She tucked him in a little more and slid out of bed quietly, carefully not to wake him as she padded into their bathroom.

She was late. Nearly two weeks late now to be exact.

She'd stopped testing regularly months ago. Even now that he felt better, it was easy for sweet Roger to get his hopes up when she was a few days late, only to become grief stricken again and again when the test came back negative or her cycle started a few days later.

She tried not to let her own hopes fly too high now.

She would've woken Roger, but decided instead to only wake him if there was good news, as to avoid him having to carry another negative around in his mind.

She kept the bathroom door open incase Roger reached for her in his sleep and found her gone. She gazed at him now, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and waiting for her results as she listened to the cooing of the pigeons that'd nested on their fire escape. Roger had been so giddy to spot them, there. Two little white eggs tucked away in messy bundle of twigs. He'd been itching to see them hatch. Pointing them out to Winnie and checking in on them each morning.

He'd laughed his head off when they finally hatched, tears forming in his eyes as he clutched his stomach. Y/N couldn't understand why for the life of her until Roger managed to choke out, "Why do they look like that!?"

She laughed too, "What do you mean?"

He fell into another fit of laughter, wiping his tears, "They're terrifying! Don't even look like birds!"

"Well you didn't expect them to come out all fuzzy and perfect did you?"

Roger sighed, grinning, "I suppose I did! That's how I pictured them. Like little fluffy grey chicks. Didn't think their little eyes would be bulgin' out like that! They're all slimy!"

Y/N laughed heartily, "You studied biology, silly thing!"

"Ages ago!!"  She layed her head against his chest, and it bounced her a little when he giggled, kissing her head.

Y/N smiled at the memory, glancing at the wall clock and reaching over to the counter to grab the test. Two lines. She sighed, tossing it in the garbage and turning on the faucet to wash her hands. Wait.

She froze, kneeling down to pull the test from the little garbage can again with shaky hands. Two lines. One blue. One red. Positive. That's a positive, right?

She grabbed the box, triple checking herself before grabbing another test from under the sink.

Ten minutes later, and she had two positive sticks in her hand, tears welling in her eyes. "Rog...Roger...." she stumbled from the bathroom, feeling like her knees were about to give out. She kneeled beside the bed, taking his hand, and eyes fluttered open sleepily. He immediately sat up more, seeing the tears in her eyes, and cradled her face, brows knitting in concern.  "Hey...Hey what's?-"

"I'm pregnant." She croaked happily, grinning so hard she could barely say it. "I'm pregnant, Roger. You've gotten me pregnant."

He froze for a moment, frowning as he tried to comprehend what she were saying. "I...I don't-" His heart was in his throat, unable to let himself believe it yet. This must be a dream.

Y/N took his hand, pulling him with her to the bathroom door, where she handed them the two tests. His hands were shaking now too, as he squinted at the lines. His eyes met his wife's, "Y-You mean....these are....t-this is...."

She nodded, holding his wrists as he continued to stare at the tests. He stared at them until his expression crumpled, a breathless sob escaping his lips as a tear rolled over onto his cheek. "Y-You're-"

Y/N took the tests laying them down on the sink and wrapping him in her arms, letting him cling to her as he cried into the shoulder of her night shirt. She rubbed his back soothingly, tears welling in her own eyes as she spoke, "You put a baby in me. We're having a baby Rog...Win's gonna have a brother or sister..."

Roger gave another sob into her shoulder and she pulled back to cradle his face as he cried, voice breaking over his pitiful words. "I think I almost gave up."

Y/N felt her heart shatter in her chest, an ache that sunk all the way down into her toes.

"C'mere..." She rested her forehead against his, kissing him lovingly and gently. He sniffled, returning her kiss as she took his hands in hers, snaking them under her shirt to rest flat against her tummy. He broke the kiss, another weak sob rattling through him.

" 's our baby..." he managed to choke as his sobs quieted. Y/N brushed through his messy blonde locks.

"It is." She whispered, letting him rub her belly passively. "God, Rog, it is. It's our love..."

He sniffled again, and Y/N turned to pull a washcloth out of the cupboard, wetting it a little to gently press it over his tear stained face.

"I love you." He hummed softly, letting her fuss over him. "I love you so much, thank you..."

He felt like his brain was bouncing around in his skull. His mum. He'd call his mum first. Or maybe Clare? No no no they should call the doctor, right? And make an appointment? There was always time later though...the boys. He'd call the boys. He'd tell them first. God he wanted to tell everyone in the whole world. There was only one thing he knew for sure:

He was starting with the little blonde two-year-old asleep down the hall.

***

@lauritakamaki

@dealorgirl32

@demo-wise

@meddowscrl

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners: Chapter Seven

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids. 

Warning: This chapter has some intimate content between the mice, but nothing lewd or explicit. 

Word Count: 4,895

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/72272373

Ten minutes had passed and Brain was starting to grow impatient. The mouse was exhausted after a long and busy day tending to the needs of the Warners and all he wanted was to relax in the comfortable queen bed. Whatever Pinky was planning had better be the surprise of the century. 

The grunts from the bathroom ceased and were quickly replaced with the soft pitter-pattering of Pinky’s feet. 

“Okay Brain!” Pinky chirped from the floor while bouncing up and down. “It’s ready!” 

Brain rubbed his eyes and forced himself to get out of the comfortable bed. “This surprise of yours better be worth the wait,” He mentioned. As he pondered about what exactly Pinky had in store in the bathroom, he raised an eyebrow when he addressed another issue. “And sanitary as well.” 

Once Brain landed on the floor, Pinky gently took his paw and led them down a trail of rose petals towards the bathroom. The chubby mouse was admittedly impressed with Pinky’s keen eye in regards to tasteful displays of romance. He assumed that Pinky must have made a few additional purchases with the golden credit card while on his shopping spree with Yakko and Wakko.  

When they entered the dimly-lit restroom, Pinky swiftly scooped Brain up in his arms, causing the smaller mouse to let out a short gasp. The lanky mouse carried his partner bridal style towards the tape measure. With a swift kick, they ascended their makeshift elevator and arrived on the counter. The moment Pinky stepped off the tape measure, Brain couldn’t believe his eyes. 

In between the sinks, there was a white cereal bowl filled to the brim with hot water, surrounded by rose petals and the wafting aroma of vanilla-scented air-fresheners.  

“Poit! I almost forgot about the bubbles,” Pinky said as he gently lowered Brain onto the counter.  The taller mouse ran over to the Alka Seltzer box and retrieved two tablets. Heaving the small tablets over his head, he dropped them straight into the tub. Within seconds, the bathwater was coated with large bubbles. “I just love the bubbles!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.  

Brain stared at the tub in astonishment. Pinky took the time to prepare a nice bath he intended to share with him. It was a particularly nice way to wind down after a long and busy day.

The taller mouse looked over at Brain and dramatically presented his jazz hands. “Ta-Da!!” 

Brain looked into his partner’s twinkling blue eyes. “You did all this…for me?” He softly inquired. 

“Well, of course, Brain!” Pinky replied. “You must be tired after such a hectic day. So I decided to draw us a bath. Zort!” 

The taller mouse picked up an empty box of animal crackers and placed it in front of the cereal bowl as a makeshift step ladder to access the tub. “I was originally gonna buy scented candles, but Yakko reminded me of the hotel’s no-candle policy.” 

Brain was stunned that Pinky would take the time and effort to prepare such a marvelous display of intimacy. 

“Why Pinky, I’m impressed by this romantic gesture.” Brain complimented.

“Looks like my years of watching soap operas and romantic comedies have finally paid off! Zort!” Pinky said confidently. 

“Indeed it did.” Brain agreed. He looked over at Pinky and felt a pang of guilt. Pinky went through all this effort for him and Brain was initially skeptical of what his partner had in store for him. Pinky was simply too good for him. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” Brain muttered. 

Pinky’s ears perked upwards when he heard Brain doubt himself. The taller mouse marched over to his partner’s side. With his arms crossed, he stared down the smaller mouse with a hardened frown. “Brain, now what did Dr. Scratchinsniff say to you about having a self-deprecating outlook on things?” He gently reprimanded. 

Brain looked into Pinky’s hardened stare and sighed. He was still working on improving his sense of self. Years of being fodder for science at Acme Labs combined with the countless failed schemes to take over the world had drilled the terrible idea that Brain didn’t deserve anything good and decent in this world, which stemmed from the conditioning from the traumatic experiment during his youth. But Pinky proved him otherwise. He still stood by his side all these years and supported him and was more than willing to give affection. And with the additional help from his therapist, Brain was working on bolstering his self-esteem and learning to love himself. 

“You’re right, Pinky. I deserve nice things.” Brain softly admitted. 

“Yes, you do!” Pinky exclaimed. His goofy smile returned as he pulled Brain into a hug, nuzzling his cheek. Once they broke apart from the embrace, Pinky stared at him with sultry eyes. “Now why don’t you hop in the tub, where we can relax and admire each other.”

Brian lightly chuckled at his partner’s innuendo. Oh, he looked forward to admiring Pinky all right. The Warners were already fast asleep, so there was no issue with the two of them spending some alone time together, doing some rather adult activities. 

“Yes Pinky, there’s nothing I want more than to admire you all night long…” Brain said in a husky voice, trying his best to sound flirty. Pinky’s cheeks turned pink at Brain’s suggestive comment and pressed his paws to conceal his blush. 

The smaller mouse carefully took off his plush robe, folded it, and placed it next to the towels. He climbed up the animal cracker box, approaching the edge of the tub. He dipped his toe in the water and was content that it was a suitable temperature. Hot, but not boiling. Brain slowly entered the tub and submerged himself into the heated water. He closed his eyes and let out a blissful sigh. The hot water soaked through his ivory coat, soothing his tired muscles. After tending to the kids’ needs for the past two days, it was truly rewarding to be soaked in a hot bath lovingly prepared by his partner. 

“Ah, sweet euphoria.” Brain said. 

“Oh Braaain!” Pinky sang. 

The pudgy mouse opened his eyes and turned to Pinky, who flirtily batted his eyes. Brain noticed that Pinky purposefully exposed his right shoulder from the purple robe. The lanky mouse loosened the belt of his robe, swiftly yanked it off, and tossed it over to the side. With a seductive smile, Pinky dropped the robe onto the floor. Now only wearing his white fur, he placed his hands on his hips as he strutted over towards the tub. 

Brain couldn’t help but stare with saucer-sized eyes as he watched Pinky flirtatiously swish his hips, humming seductively. “Yeeesss!!” The eloquent mouse cried out. 

Pinky giggled as he looked at his awe-struck lover. As he ascended the makeshift step ladder, he accidentally tripped over his foot. Pinky waved his arms around in a feeble attempt to maintain his balance, but to no avail as he plunged into the water with a tremendous splash. 

Brain’s eyes widened with alarm. “Pinky!” He shouted, thrusting his arms through the bubbled water to get his grip on his partner so he could pull him up. Fortunately, the taller mouse broke through the surface with a silly grin and his hair shielding his eyesight.

“Oh, what a rush!” Pinky guffawed as he lifted up his hair tufts, his blue eyes gleaming with joy. 

Brain was overcome with relief that Pinky wasn’t seriously hurt from his fall. The smaller mouse placed his hands over his beau’s right hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t scare me like that again.” 

“I won’t,” Pinky reassured as he gently placed his left paw on Brain’s shoulder. But the taller mouse immediately noticed how stiff it was and became concerned. “Oh dear,” He muttered. “I guess watching the little kiddies has worn you out?” 

“Yes,” Brain admitted. “While I certainly made many treasured memories bonding with the kids, it really did a number on my physical state.” 

With a gentle hand, Pinky tilted Brain’s chin upwards and gazed into his precious pink eyes. “Not to worry Brain, I know how to help.” 

Brain smiled gratefully at his lanky partner. Pinky was more than ready to shower his affection. Fortunately, the lanky mouse prided himself on being a skilled masseuse, well-versed in different techniques. 

Pinky brought himself closer to Brain’s side. With gentle arms, Pinky grabbed his partner’s waist and hoisted him onto his lap. The lanky mouse let his hands travel over to Brain’s soft belly, and he couldn’t help but playfully squish the folds of his fur. “Oh Brain, I just love your jiggly-wiggly tummy-tum!” 

Brain became a flustered, insecure mess at the mere mention of his potbelly and immediately yanked Pinky’s hands away. “Pinky, stop this foolishness at once.” He commanded, trying to conceal his self-consciousness over the one part of his body he saw as a blemish. 

Feeling guilty, Pinky pulled Brain closer and rested his chin underneath his chubby head. “Poit! I’m sorry Brain. But I love your tummy just as much as I love every part of you!” The eccentric mouse reassured as he placed his hands on the smaller mouse’s shoulders. 

“I know…” Brain admitted. He couldn’t bother to protest his partner, who only saw the beauty of everything, including his rotund belly. 

Pinky began to massage Brain’s shoulders. The eloquent mouse felt at ease as he allowed his partner to gently caress him. With deft hands, Pinky carefully applied an appropriate amount of pressure onto Brain’s shoulders. While working on his shoulders, Pinky peppered small kisses on the top of Brain’s head. 

Brain eased into the taller mouse’s hold and began to ponder. How could someone like Pinky, who likes to suck on his toes and watch those dreaded finger puppet videos on YouTube, be so knowledgeable in romantic manners such as this? 

The lanky mouse then let go and focused his attention on Brain’s chubby head. Gently placing his hands on his partner’s large cranium, he carefully kneaded his fingers in a soothing motion. 

Brain blissfully sighed as he felt Pinky’s tender paws work their magic. He always loved when Pinky massaged his head. The small mouse prided himself in his intellect, but his normally dim-witted partner knew exactly how to care for his abnormally large head. He closed his eyes as he felt Pinky’s fingers carefully caress through his fur. Such dexterity! What careful precision! 

“Yeeesss!!!” He exclaimed.  

Pinky smiled. He was glad to see Brain so happy after a long weekend. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Brain. After watching the kiddies all weekend, it’s nice to relax in a nice bath.” He remarked. 

Brain opened his eyes the moment Pinky mentioned the Warners. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” He said as he carefully got off Pinky’s lap and moved over to face him. 

“I’ve been pondering a lot about parenthood.” The eloquent mouse began. “I’m sure you recall the fond memories we had with Roman.”

“Oh, watching our little Romy grow up was the best two weeks of my life!” Pinky crowed. “We should give him a call tomorrow night! I bet he’s doing wonderful with his career in ventriloquism.” 

“Absolutely.” Brain concurred. It’s been a while since they last conversed with their cloned son, and he was curious to hear how Romy would react to his and Pinky’s weekend shenanigans with the toon kids. 

“Oh, what I’d give to be a parent again.” Pinky sighed, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia and desire. 

Brain smiled, fully understanding his partner’s sentiment. He placed a paw on Pinky’s cheek, turning his head to face him. “Perhaps we could become fathers once more, dear Pinky.” 

Pinky’s eyes widened with excitement while he instinctively held Brain’s hand, which still rested on his cheek. He never thought that he would have more kids, after Romy and that brief time watching over that adorable alien baby. But balancing a family and a career proved to be too much of a challenge. But now that Brain was feeling more and more sure of himself after seeking professional help and their blossoming romantic relationship, the lanky mouse was eager to hear what Brain had to say. 

“Really Brain?” Pinky asked enthusiastically. Brain nodded as he carefully retracted his hand from his partner’s cheek and opted to hold his hand instead. 

“When we first accepted the babysitting job from the CEO, I initially did not think much of it, besides an obstacle that interrupted my plans for world domination. But after spending some time with the Warners, I found myself growing emotionally attached to the children. And, much to my surprise, they seem to reciprocate those feelings.” 

“I know Wakko and Dot are on board!” Pinky eagerly interjected. But a small frown slowly crossed his face. “Poit. Although Yakko was having trouble seeing us as parent material since he’s been looking after his siblings for so long without any help.” 

Brain pondered as he looked over to the slowly dispersing bath bubbles. “I can understand why he would feel that way…” The mouse returned his gaze at Pinky, who stared at him with a worried expression. “However, I believe that Yakko will eventually warm up to us after some time.” 

“You really think so?” Pinky softly inquired, his voice filled with hope. 

Brain gave his partner a confident nod. “I’m certain of it.” 

If the Warners still wanted to have him and Pinky around after the weekend, then he would be able to provide them with parental affection. If it came down to being a mere lab mouse or the guardian of three wacky children, then Brain would be more than happy to leave his days at Acme Labs behind. 

Brain looked back at his beau. “You know, Pinky. I think I’m ready to get back on the saddle again.” 

Pinky’s eyes lit up. “Oh, goodie!” He clapped, but then a sad frown crossed his face. “Oh, but wait! No, no…”

Brain’s ears drooped, feeling crestfallen by Pinky’s sudden refusal. He showered unconditional love to the Warners, even gushing over becoming a parent again. What was going on in that strange head of his? 

“What is it?” Brain asked worriedly. 

“I forgot my saddle at the lab,” Pinky explained forlornly. “Had I known that you wanted to play horsie over the weekend, then I would have had it packed in my suitcase.” But the mouse’s eyes widened when he thought of something and gave Brain a flirty smile. “Although, we could make it work without a saddle!” 

Brain blushed furiously as he massaged his forehead. “I wasn’t referring to one of our roleplaying sessions, Pinky!” He splashed his hand into the water to get his partner’s attention. “I was talking about becoming a father again!”

“Ohh…” Pinky muttered in realization. But then he became excited by Brain’s admission. “You really want to be a dad again!?” 

“Absolutely,” Brain replied. “Not to mention how Wakko and Dot already referred to us as their fathers. But the more I think about it, there are several benefits to adopting the Warners.” 

“Like what?” Pinky eagerly inquired. 

“Well, for one thing, we would no longer have to reside in the lab and go through the rigorous experiments that take a tremendous toll on our physical and emotional well-being.” Brain explained. “Granted, the only downside is that the water tower doesn’t have the necessary lab equipment or other resources to aid my quest for world domination, but I’ll figure something out.” 

Pinky’s eyes lit up at the idea of moving into the water tower. “You mean I can finally live out my dreams of being a homemaker?” 

“Absolutely, dear Pinky.” Brain fondly replied, his ears contentedly flattened. “And we can apply the lessons we learned from raising Roman to the Warners. I won’t make any attempts to force my desire of world domination onto the kids, and you won’t overly smother them with affection.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try my best,” Pinky mentioned. “Oh! And Romy can finally have younger siblings to play with! Narf! And the four of them will have such a fun-fun, silly-willy time together!” 

Brain chuckled. He had to admit that they were getting ahead of themselves, pondering over the possibilities of returning to fatherhood. Of course, it all came down to whether the Warners wanted to have them back in their lives, and the consensus is that they have a two-out-of-three approval rating. But the smaller mouse was desperate to make sure that everyone was on board before making any life-changing decisions. 

The small mouse cleared his throat. “Tell you what, we’ll take the kids out for a nice brunch at a fancy restaurant, and then spend the afternoon at the park.” He explained while rubbing the back of his head. “But before we return to the Warner movie lot, we’ll ask the children how they feel about being adopted. And, if they say yes, then we’ll kiss Acme Labs goodbye and start a new home with the Warners!”

Pinky’s blue eyes glistened with joy. “Egad, brilliant Brain!” He cheered, clasping his paws together and letting out a contented sigh. “But do we have to kiss the lab?” 

Brian rolled his eyes at his partner’s ludicrous statement. “No Pinky, that’s just a figure of speech.”

“Ohh,” Pinky uttered. 

Brain allowed himself to smile at his clueless partner. “You know, I’m actually glad that we took this babysitting gig this weekend, Pinky.” He said as he moved closer to Pinky with the intention of giving him a passionate kiss. 

“Me too.” Pinky agreed. Pinky leaned closer to Brain, who had his eyes closed in preparation to lock lips with his partner. But before Pinky could seal the deal, he remembered something incredibly important he wanted to share. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Pinky exclaimed, startling Brain. 

“About what?” The smaller mouse inquired. 

“Since we were talking about saddles earlier, we should buy one of those dad saddles for the man-suit and we could take turns riding the kids around as they pretend to be cowboys and pirates! Narf!” 

“Pinky, I am not stooping so low as to purchase a degrading joke toy that would chip away at my dignity!” Brain argued. 

“But just imagine how much fun the kids would have! And since we would be giving them horse rides with the suit, we wouldn’t have to worry about back pain, and-”

In an effort to shut Pinky up, Brain propped himself across his partner’s lap, cupped his face, and proceeded to kiss him. Pinky’s eyes widened in surprise. Normally he would be the one to make the first move. But in a subversive turn of events, Brain was the one initiating the intimate moment. Pinky closed his eyes and savored the kiss. 

Once they parted lips, Pinky saw Brain’s cheeks flushed. The lanky mouse smiled warmly at his pudgy partner, gazing into his pretty pink eyes. He leaned in, kissing his partner back. 

Pinky tenderly placed his paw on the smaller mouse’s right cheek as their lips collided. Brain immediately wrapped his arms around Pinky’s neck, bring himself closer. Feeling rather frisky, Brain inserted his tongue into Pinky’s mouth, causing his partner to elicit a contented moan. 

Both mice were in bliss. 

But the intimate moment was broken the moment they heard the door open. The couple broke away from their kiss and turned around, only to find Wakko waiting by the doorway and staring at them with wide eyes. 

The mice and the middle child proceed to scream at each other. 

Wakko pointed at the mice as he stared at the terrifying sight of two grown-ups doing very grown-up things. Brain clung onto Pinky’s chest, while the taller mouse grabbed a handful of bubbles to cover his modesty, not taking into account that the bubbles were now roughly the size of his fingertips. 

Just when things couldn’t possibly get any worse for the mice, they heard a pair of shuffling feet approaching the doorway. 

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” Yakko asked as he rushed towards his sibling’s side with Dot following his trail. But the eldest sibling was surprised to see the mice sharing a tub together. “Woah there!” He exclaimed in a disbelieving smile. 

The mice stared at the three children like deer in headlights. Brain felt his cheeks burn at the thought of Yakko constantly bringing up this moment in private conversations (though Yakko was a chatterbox, he would never intentionally spread malicious gossip about his co-workers). The mortified mouse was never going to hear the end of it!

Dot also appeared by the doorway and was immediately overjoyed by what she saw. “Aww, you two are sharing a romantic moment together!” She inquired, her eyes sparkling like gemstones. 

Before Brain could make a sardonic response, Pinky lifted his hands and gathered another small pile of bubbles. “No, we weren’t!” He lied with a nervous chuckle. “We were just having a foam party!” 

“A foam party? Well how come we weren’t invited?” Wakko questioned, feeling a little sad at the thought of being left out of a fun party. 

“Oh dear,” Pinky mumbled, for he didn’t think this through. Snapping his fingers, he came up with a fib on the fly. “Well, this foam party is exclusive, and uh, only adult mice are allowed! Troz!” He explained while flashing a guilty smile. Brain smacked his paw against his forehead and groaned. 

Dot knew that Pinky was lying, but couldn’t help but joke. “Well, shame on the party planners for holding such segregationist attitudes.” She replied, feigning offense. 

Yakko smirked at the two mice. “So, what kinda party games were you two playing? Seven minutes in heaven?” He inquired with bouncing eyebrows. 

“As a matter of fact, we were.” Brain retorted. He turned his direction over to the middle child, seeing that their overreaction alerted their siblings, which led to this awkward and mortifying mess. “So Wakko, is there anything you need?” 

“I only need to use the potty,” Wakko answered their older brother’s question before turning his attention back to the mice. “But I can wait if you need some extra time alone.” 

The mice exchanged worried looks and decided to put an end to their romantic time in the tub. 

“There’s no need for you to wait on our behalf,” Brain assured as he quickly emerged from the makeshift tub. “Just give us a moment to leave and we will allow you to do your business.” 

The moment Brain stepped off of the animal cracker box, he noticed how sopping wet his fur was. Pinky quickly followed as he hastily exited the tub and tripped onto the counter. Brain took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, while Pinky wrapped his towel around his chest. The smaller mouse retrieved the plush robes and grasped his partner’s hand. Dot offered her hands out and the mice quickly jumped onto her palms. Once she carried the beaus from the bathroom, Wakko immediately ran in and slammed the door shut. 

After a moment, Yakko was the first to break into a fit of laughter. He collapsed on the bed, kicking his legs and clutching his stomach as cackled. Dot and Pinky couldn’t help but join in as well while Brain stood in her palm with an irate frown. 

“This is most undignified.” He grumbled. 

“Aw Brain,” Pinky comforted as he pulled his partner into a side hug. “You have to admit, that was pretty funny!” 

At this point, Yakko’s laughter had died down and after hearing Brain’s complaint, he felt a little sorry for unexpectedly invading their personal space. 

“Hey now, we didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Yakko assured. 

“Even if you two looked adorable in your moment of intimacy.” Dot added. 

At that moment, they heard the toilet flush and the sink going off. Brain was thankful that Wakko had the decency to wash their hands. The bathroom door swung open and Wakko leaped onto the bed, joining their siblings. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting your foam party…” Wakko apologized in earnest. 

“Not to worry dear!” Pinky acknowledged. 

Despite his embarrassment, Brain couldn’t help but smile at the middle child’s sincerity. “There’s no need for you to apologize, Wakko. Pinky and I should have been more thoughtful about using the bathroom for our own selfish purposes.” 

“Like making out?” Yakko asked with a mischievous grin. 

“Yes, always.” Brain responded sarcastically with flushed cheeks. “Now Dot, would you be so kind as to put Pinky and me back in our beds?”

Dot wordlessly nodded and gently placed the mice back on their mattress. 

Brain turned over to the three children. “Now I want you all to get some sleep. Pinky and I are going to be taking you out to an exquisite brunch tomorrow morning and I expect you all to get up at a decent hour.” 

“Okay!” The Warners chorused. 

Brain nodded, pleased that the rambunctious children understood the game plan for the following day. He and Pinky tossed aside their towels and dressed in their plush robes. Once the mice were comfortable, they tucked themselves under the covers. Wakko leaned over the nightstand and turned off the light once more. 

Brain laid awake. Even after such a romantic moment spent with Pinky, only to be accidentally spoiled by the Warners, it was going to be difficult to fall asleep after that incident. 

On the other mattress, Yakko himself was also having trouble trying to sleep. Nights were usually the hardest for the teen because he had a lot on his mind. The well-being of his siblings, the state of his career, the very nature of his existence as a toon. It was a lot for a youngster like him to take in, even if he had been the same age for decades. He wished that there was something to take his mind off of such dreadful topics. 

“Hey Brain,” He heard Wakko loudly whisper. “Are you up.” 

“Yes,” The mouse groggily answered. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well,” Wakko began, sounding rather sheepish. “Could you sing me to sleep? I can’t go to sleep and I don’t wanna wake Yakko up.” 

Yakko was stunned to hear his sibling be considerate of his feelings. Yakko wanted to swoop in and tend to Wakko’s needs, but he tossed that idea aside because he wanted to see where this situation was going. 

“Very well. I’ll make sure it’s extra boring so you could fall asleep faster.” Brain humored. 

“Yes!” Dot quietly interjected. 

Yakko was surprised to hear his little sister pipe up. Usually, she was out like a light within ten minutes. He supposed that Dot was curious to hear Brain singing once more. And the oldest Warner couldn’t blame her. He too was interested in hearing the usually serious mouse lull his siblings to sleep. 

Brain knew one particular song that would do the trick. Although the tune of ‘Camptown Races’ wasn’t the typical song one would use for a lullaby (Brain had a strong preference for Brahms’s ‘Wiegenlied’), he knew that his own set of lyrics would make Wakko and Dot fall asleep. 

“Pinky, would you care to join me as I sing about the parts of the brain?” 

“Narf! Absolutely!” The lanky mouse cheered, a bit too loudly for his partner’s liking. 

Brain tugged at Pinky’s ear. “Now I understand your enthusiasm, Pinky, but the objective is to lull the little tykes to sleep.” He commanded in a hushed voice. 

Fortunately, Pinky seemed to understand. “Right-o!” He whispered. 

Brain began to hum the opening melody to ‘Camptown Races’ to get into the mood before singing about the various parts that make up the human brain. 

 Neo-cortex, frontal lobe. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Hippocampus, neural node. Right hemisphere. 

 Pons and cortex visual. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Sylvian fissure, pineal. Left hemisphere.

 Cerebellum left! Cerebellum right! 

Synapse, hypothalamus, Striatum, dendrite.

 As the Brain hummed the chorus, Wakko and Dot were entranced by the mouse’s soothing voice. Even Yakko was starting to feel tired. He struggled to keep his eyelids open as he heard the eloquent mouse’s little ditty. 

 Axon fibers, matter gray. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Central tegmental pathway. Temporal lobe. 

White core matter, forebrain, skull. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Central fissure, cord spinal. Parietal. 

Pia mater! Meningeal vein! Medulla oblongata and lobe limbic. 

Micro-electrodes…Naaarf!

The Brain!!!

Once the mice finished their quiet rendition of ‘Brainstem’, they were pleased to hear three distinct snores coming from the other bed. 

Brain smiled, satisfied that his little tune did the trick. “That ought to keep the little squirts happy.” He said smugly. 

He turned over to see Pinky quietly clapping with that big silly grin of his. “Egad, Brain! Brilliant!” He whispered, trying very hard to contain his enthusiasm under control. 

“Yes, Pinky. Perhaps it’s time that we turn in, so to speak.” Brain mentioned. 

“Into what?” Pinky asked, but then figured out an answer right away. “Oh, are we gonna turn into a big spoon and little spoon?” 

“Yes, we are, Pinky.” Brain answered. Despite their romantic moment in the makeshift tub was unintentionally spoiled, he was certain that he and Pinky can still share some more intimacy together in the bed without worrying about the curious eyes of the Warners. “But on one condition.” 

“What’s that, Brain?” 

“I get to be the big spoon.” 

AN: Hey y’all! Here is a little romantic chapter for Valentine’s Day weekend! I wanted to have a Brinky-centric chapter, but I was initially worried about this chapter being too risque and out of place, but my friend @shuunthenonbeliever (cheeserollcall on AO3) mentioned that it would make sense for Pinky and Brain to want to spend some alone time together to do some intimate couples things (and the ‘foam party’ explanation Pinky gives was also borrowed from shuun)

The tub sharing was based off of two issues in the Pinky and The Brain comics. From Issue #19 the AWPWIP exchange where Pinky replies “I think so Brain! You draw the bath and I’ll fetch the Alka-Seltzers and candles.” to which Brain responds “Maybe later, Pinky.”, as well as the moment from Issue #26 where Brain closes his eyes while taking a bath. Pinky leans in as if he’s about to kiss him, Brain opens his eyes, and they both scream. Brain yells “What are you looking at?!”, Pinky responds “I’m not looking, I’m admiring” whilst staring at him with sultry eyes, and Brain replies “Oh, that’s reassuring!” 

The moment where Brain goes a little further with his kiss was inspired by the clip of Rob Paulsen and Maurice LaMarche attending a convention, and Rob yelling “Egad, Brain! Put your tongue in my mouth!” 

The moment where Pinky tries to lie about having a bath by saying it was a foam party was borrowed from my friend shuun over on discord. 

I was having trouble coming up with a lullaby and was originally gonna use the Brownian Motion lullaby Brain sings in the reboot, but I thought it was too short. So I decided to have him and Pinky sing a quieter rendition of Brainstem because it’s longer and has more sciency words. 

The next chapter will feature some more mice and Warners bonding, and some major angst, so I’ll do my best to finish it as soon as possible. 

Thanks for reading!

[eclectic-feathers]

Hello! Here’s my submission for @50yearsofqueen’s event. Posted nearing midnight for the drama. It’s a Doctor Who crossover that doesn’t really have much to do with the franchise other than in concept. It’s a very complex show, but canon’s already constantly challenged so I might as well challenge it even more. Thanks to my partner @bananavarina who made the art for this chapter and other chapters to come. Special thanks to @anne-white-star for helping me with the concept. Hope y’all enjoy!

———————————————

Humans succumb rather easily to trickery. After all, an unfortunate amount of them lead such jaded lives to the point they gradually lose the ability of thinking outside the box. This particular box is all these humans have ever known, yet, still, it serves as a case study in the development of claustrophobia. It’s stuck moving at a steady pace in a singular direction: forward. No turning back, no jumping ahead. Worst of all, the box never takes you anywhere. You need gasoline for that and gasoline, as you may well know, is expensive.

And if you don’t prefer a cheaper alternative for transportation, you’re either very well off or there’s something terribly wrong with you.

Thus, when presented with a different box, a time-traveling, space-hopping one which happens to accommodate much bigger dimensions on the inside, humans are easily fooled into stepping right in, putting aside all reasonable caution.

It’s for this reason that The Doctor recruits folks aboard his TARDIS with relative ease. It’s an art form he has nearly mastered, effectively trapping starry-eyed wanderers under the guise of adventure into a lifetime’s worth of the terror they least expect upon boarding. This terror had plagued dozens of Earthlings whose narrow understanding of space and time rendered them rather clueless as to how they might defeat it. This entity was, as brave Jamie McCrimmon ever so rudely proclaimed, a threat less comprehensible than Cybermen. This threat was unwanted exposition.

(Which is more commonly referred to as rambling.)

Countless humans have fondly (and exasperatedly, as certified human, Tegan Jovanka may attest) listened to The Doctor ramble for hours on end. It was a familiar dynamic, one The Doctor found comfort in. Perhaps, most of his companions never truly understood what he would be rambling on about, but it was, and still is, part of their exchange. The Doctor finds joy in showing such excitement, such beauty and wonder, to his friends. In return, his friends put the fun in his travels and gawk, accordingly, to all that they witness.

The Doctor always expected his companions to marvel in the sights and let him ramble on and on from topic to topic. What he didn’t expect was for them to stop marveling and start rambling back.

-

“Your mama loved scarves. They were all she had managed to pack from home when she was taken here.”

Brian slipped on his rubber footwear, his feet secured by tiny pieces of braided cloth cut from a scarf threaded through unevenly punctured holes. Haru had called them flip flops although he wasn’t quite sure whether it was a name he’d invented to cheer him up when he was little (like when he used to call lightbulbs fireflies) or if it happened to be the effect of inherent human silliness, thus making it the correct term.

“This is your papa’s favorite pair of pants. Your mama doodled stars and planets on it for his birthday. He loved them as he loved her...you love them too, don’t you?”

He pulled the pants up and fastened it with a belt. It was rather long and baggy for a ten-year-old. Still, Brian tried to make it work, bunching up the cloth and standing as tall as he could. He wondered if his father was out there, unaware of the existence of a son, finally home among the stars drawn daintily across his trousers.

“We all had to wear long sleeved shirts back in the metropolis. I wore green. He wore white.”

Brian put one on accordingly. The sleeves flopped and swallowed his arms as the shirt engulfed his skinny frame.

“Your mama had sewn him a vest. He wasn’t particularly fond of vests but he was very fond of your mama.”

He put on the black vest

Little Brian stared at the mirror in front of him, unsure what to feel. He felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, yet he wasn’t quite sure if it were right to mourn for something he’d never known.

“Bri?”

Brian looked up to find Haru standing at the doorway. His face was blank, yet a storm seemed to brew in his eyes. Perhaps, he was upset that the child he’d loved and raised as if he were his own was wearing the painful reminder of his friends long gone. Or, perhaps, he was disheartened that said child wasn’t satisfied enough with his care to stop yearning for his parents’ presence. Perhaps, he was neither of those. Perhaps, he was angry.

Brian hoped he was angry.

A moment of silence passed between them. Then another. Brian had read about moments like this in fictional Earthling books. He was steeling himself for those angry outbursts he always read about. Haru rarely got upset, yet Ian had never messed up this terribly before. So he braced himself…

Only to be engulfed in a bone crushing hug.

Brian quickly hugged Haru back as the latter trembled. He felt the pitter patter of tears falling on his shoulder and for the first time in his life, he felt the crushing weight of loss.

“You deserve to know your father,” Haru croaked as he regained his composure. Brian merely buried his face in his shoulder as he finally let his own tears flow.

“I already do, Dad.”

—————————-

“Doctor, your library’s collection of medical books is incomplete,” proclaimed Brian, a young man clad in white, signifying his status as an esteemed astronaut of Planet Rhye.

The Doctor gasped theatrically, startling Deacy, a man from 21st century Leicester, younger and less knowledgeable than Brian, yet seemingly much wiser. He’d been tinkering with a malfunctioning lever for about an hour now.

The Doctor merely smiled in apology to which Deacy responded with a fond shake of his head.

“Oh the TARDIS hasn’t been fixed yet?,” Brian inquired as he sank into a lavish red sofa situated in the console room.

“Not to my knowledge, no,” Deacy replied.

The Doctor laughed.

“Cheeky now, aren’t we?”

“Well, I deserve to be cheeky. After all it wasn’t me who busted the wiring in the butterfly room for a photoshoot.”

The Doctor scoffed as Brian let out a snort of his own.

“I’ll have you know, darling, that we’re perfectly safe and untarnished. I managed to avert the crisis by rearranging the wires before anyone could get hurt.”

“Did you, now?,” Deacy asked, his confusion evident.

“Of course I did!”

“Then how come the wires here are all mismatched and tangled up?”

A sudden silence swept across the room.

“Oh! You managed to rearrange them well enough for the TARDIS not to combust but they still weren’t in the correct order because based on the times we were on Itakam and the time we went to Roman occupied Greece, you’re no good at technical repairs,” Brian piped up, rather satisfied with himself. Deacy chuckled as The Doctor gaped at his lack of tact.

“Brian...do tell me about the library,” The Doctor muttered, as Deacy amusedly returned to his work.

“I’ve searched high and low in every single shelf of your library and found references to every single medical lung condition I’ve read of back home. They were all there...except for one.”

“Well, that’s silly, darling! The book dealer had been very sincere. I couldn’t have been tricked!”

“Perhaps, you’d simply been gullible?,” Roger suggested as he entered the room. He was exceptionally beautiful with no trace of wrinkles, pores, or even a philtrum. His skin was smooth as silk save for a pair of gills which rested on either side of his neck. He sat next to Brian and plopped his feet on the former’s lap. It was no secret that this Doctor, unlike the last two of his incarnations, was reserved around strangers. That being said, soaked up every last trace of physical affection from his friends like a sponge. Yet, even he chuckled at the display of such disregard for human manners.

Brian was human. However he’d been raised far from Earth, isolated from society with no one but Dad for company. Etiquette was unimportant in his little world and Dad hadn’t known enough about human custom to teach him anything of substance. Brian hadn’t known touch for years and he embraced, quite literally, its sudden return in the form of team cuddles. It seems rather funny, doesn’t it? That there are things you never realize you lost until you find it and cherish it once more? Ian seemed to believe so.

Roger was a fish.

“That’s impossible, for how all that pretentiousness my sixth face had, he simply wasn’t one to be tricked.”

“I beg to differ,” Roger countered. “I’ve met him. You’re absolutely rubbish at spaceship maintenance, I give you that. But you’re actually quite clever...very creative even. He was witty and creative too, but he wasn’t clever. He was mostly a bumbling fool.”

The Doctor didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

“What medical condition were you looking for anyway?,” Deacy inquired as he rolled up the sleeves of his turtleneck and took off his spliced button up.

“Hanahaki disease.”

At this, Roger quickly turned away from Brian, trying to hold in his laughter. The Doctor buried his smiling face in Deacy’s shoulder as the latter forcibly schooled his expression into one of nonchalance. He was well aware that Hanahaki disease was fictional, after all, his girlfriend, Ronnie used to write fiction in her spare time and he’d be the beta reader. He nodded politely, as Brian happily hummed a little tune, oblivious to his friends’ antics.

You know you’ve got a terrible grasp on human custom when even a fish is more culturally aware than you.

“Well, either way,” Brian piped up, still blissfully unaware, “your collection’s incomplete. Maybe we should go look for the missing volume after Deacy repairs the console?”

“I reckon we need another adventure,” Roger agreed as he set his legs on the floor and yanked The Doctor towards the couch. Brian scooted closer, letting his head rest on Roger’s shoulder as The Doctor climbed in and rested his upper body on his companions’ laps.

“I’m afraid we’ll be stranded here for a little while,” Deacy remarked.

“Then what are you waiting for?,” Brian asked as he beckoned Deacy over to the couch. The latter smiled as he joined in what he believed to be the best part of traveling with The Doctor: cuddle piles.

—————————————-

“Are we gonna tell him…?”

“No!”

“How dare you?! I invited you onboard expecting a starry-eyed audience to gawk at everything I do but instead I got someone who seems to know my TARDIS better than me!”

“There’s no point in complaining about free maintenance.”

“You’re one to talk, fishman. There’s no point in bringing you along with me to witness the universe if you’ve already seen it all!”

“Yet you still keep us around.”

“...I suppose I do. Now wipe those smug looks off your faces. We’re going to 2012. Just to appease him.”

[spookybreadstick]

What do they need in a partner?

chaotic energy, calming energy, or a combination? 

This is just what I think they would need in a partner, ideally. Their partner does not have to have these traits, but it would make for an ideal match. 

This is also sort of a companion piece to this post about the pastas personalities! 

Remember as well: Extroverted means that you feel energized being around people (you can be a shy extrovert), and Introverted means you feel drained after being around people (you can also be an outgoing introvert). Ambiverts can be either, depending on the circumstances. 

💜💙💜💙💜💙

TEAM CHAOTIC... 

-  Laughing Jack

- BEN

- Brian/Hoodie

-  Clockwork

- Nina

TEAM COMBINATION

- Tim/Masky 

- Liu

- Jane

- Puppeteer

TEAM CALMING 

- Toby

- EJ

- Slenderman

- Bloody Painter

- Jeff

~

WHY.... 

🍬 LJ is a chaotic character. He needs somebody that is able to match his energy. You’re not only his romantic partner, but his partner in chaos <3 

🎮 BEN is kind of a himbo lmao. He wants somebody who is dirty of mind and dumb of ass lol. He just needs somebody to be a chaotic lil gremlin with him <3 

❓ Brian needs somebody that will pull him from the sidelines of the party, and get him to dance. He needs a partner who will be willing to work through his layers of mystery in order to bring out the best in him peel him like an onion babey <3

⏰ Clockwork needs somebody who she feels comfortable hanging out and being silly with. A chaotic partner is a partner she can get along with and feel safe with. She really needs somebody who will put her at ease and help her to open up <3 

~

🎭 Tim needs a partner who is the best of both worlds, both chaotic and calming. Like Brian, he would benefit from having a partner pull him from the sidelines and teach him how to live life to the fullest. But, his partner also needs to understand that Tim just isn’t a chaotic person and will not enjoy any truly chaotic activities. He longs for normalcy in a relationship, and he wants a mature partner who enjoys domesticity as well <3 

🧣 Liu’s situation is unique. He and Sully have (obviously) very different personalities, and it can be hard to find a partner who can handle that. For Liu, he would prefer a partner that is on the calmer side. He wants to be able to relax with his partner and not have to worry when they’re together. Sully on the other hand, would definitely enjoy getting into some trouble with his partner. Their partner would have to be able to roll with the punches and be down for anything, whether it’s relaxing on the couch or vandalizing public property for fun <3 

🖤 Jane would do well with a partner that can show her how to loosen up a bit, while also being mature and level-headed. She appreciates someone who can be serious when needed, but also light-hearted and silly <3 

🧵 Puppeteer would need a partner that can challenge him and make him feel alive, but also someone that carries themselves in a most dignified manner (he thinks of human as lower life-forms, despite previously being one, and he doesn’t want his partner to be linked to that). He likes ‘em lively but classy <3 

💄Nina needs someone who will match her sunny personality, but someone who will also calm her down when she’s too much (and trust me, there are times when she’s too much). She needs a high-energy partner that can also balance her out and take care of her <3

~ 

🪓 Toby needs somebody who can be there for him, and sort of mother him. He really enjoys the mushiness of being doted on and fussed over by a patient and caring partner <3 

🤍 EJ wants an introverted partner that he can hang out with and feel comfortable being himself around them. A partner that doesn’t judge him, and who takes the time to get to know him. He really just wants somebody to vibe with <3

🌲Slender would like a partner that is old-fashioned when it comes to romance. He wants his partner to be somebody he can just relax around. He doesn’t want to worry when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to do anything rambunctious. He’s a homebody after all. He needs a partner that can go with the flow easily, but is also willing to step up when needed, since they would be stepping into a sort of leadership role in the mansion when they’re by his side <3 

🎨 Helen would need a mature partner that understands his boundaries and his trauma. His partner must understand that he often needs time by himself, and they need to respect that sometimes he just wants to vibe alone. His partner would have to be somebody that he feels comfortable with, and he wouldn’t consider hanging with them to be the chore that he finds it to be for most people. His partner would be the exception to his “I hate people” rule <3

🔪 Jeff is always getting himself into trouble, making a mess, or being a chaotic fool. He needs a partner that can be responsible, but still be interesting enough to keep him coming back for more. They need to be able to keep up with him and be able to deliver classic roasts. They should be able to let loose a little bit around Jeff, but they also need to know when to reel him in. His partner would be the only person who he would actually listen to without question and who would be able to tame the wild beast. His partner would be the ice to his fire <3 

~

[pedros-mustache-main]

when your love reaches me (iii)

summary: 1978 is decidedly not 2020. nor is your life ever the same when you meet a guitarist, curly haired, soft spoken, and true.

word count: 7.5k

warnings: angst, language, yearning for a man in his 70s (c’est la vie, i guess), over-describing a moment i’m very passionate about (sorry, not sorry! ten points to the person who can tell me what moment it is LOL)

a/n: wow—this gif? yeah, match made in heaven. thank you all so much for indulging me in this mini-series. i really am very proud of this silly little thing & i’m sad that it’s over because i enjoyed writing it so much. thank you to @im-an-adult-ish​ & @deacyblues​ for helping me work out the rough spots in this one. would love to hear everyone’s thoughts because i’m very ~emotional~ about this mini-series!! xoxo.

part i, part ii

in this final chapter: you must adjust because it’s not in your cards to be with him, is it?

you run your hands down your face, feel the ring on your finger catch along the end of your nose, and sigh. two months—two months without him. two months to adjust to world you once knew but happily left behind. two months to gather the pieces of the life which cruelly slipped through your fingers like water. 

each day is the same. you rise early and take your coffee on the postage stamp terrace outside your flat. you watch the sun climb higher in the sky with each passing moment and let the warmth of your drink soothe the ache in your soul. you wash your breakfast dishes, mumble a good morning to rachel when she exits her bedroom to make her way to the shower, and dress for the day. you walk to campus if you have a class or take the underground to the museum if you have a shift. you come home, eat dinner, go to bed. repeat.

if rachel notices a change in you, she doesn’t say anything. in her mind, no time has passed between the morning where she asked you to come to the pub and the same evening you tumbled into the flat, drenched and sobbing. 

but you—you’ve lost a year of your life. there’s no getting it back, and the only thing that proves it really truly happened is the ring on your middle finger, the necklace hanging by your heart, and the undeveloped rolls of film in your bedside table.

there are few words to describe the unbearable pain in your chest. anything and everything reminds you of brian: the whisper of the breeze in the autumn-heavy trees; the feeling of your warmest cardigan around your shoulders; the sound of someone laughing in the museum.

but there’s more:

the scent of cigarette smoke reminds you of roger. the sight of two friends ribbing one another in a grocery store reminds you of crystal. a colorful jacket makes you think of freddie, a whispered snide remark takes you back to john, and two girls giggling reminds you of giddy moments with anna.

around every corner you turn there’s a memory you cannot avoid, and it hurts—desperately, keenly, deeply.

so you push it all away and soldier on, quiet and downtrodden. it’s easier that way. maybe, if you forget, you can move on and make it through life without him.

six months after you’ve left brian behind, you’re approached by your boss at the museum with an opportunity you’d only ever dreamed of: the chance to create and prepare your own exhibit. 

monica is firm when she offers you the south wing to reshape as your own. “blow this out of the water, [y/n], and there will be a job as assistant curator waiting for you after graduation. i want something fresh and exciting. think you can manage?”

you agree without hesitation.

for the first time in a long time, you can’t help but smile to yourself. this is your chance to put everything you’ve learned to good use, to put something tangible in your portfolio, to make a name for yourself. 

you’re buzzing with excitement and have to practically hold rachel hostage as you spout your myriad of thoughts and ideas. she’s your sounding board, even if she doesn’t want to be, but she’s honest where it counts most, and you’re grateful for that.

she glances over the kitchen table, laden with open magazines, cutout photos, and history books. her brow puckers. “this is... really boring, [y/n],” she says with a cringe, looking up with her blue eyes and freckled face.

your shoulder droop. “that’s it? that’s all you have to say?”

she shrugs and reaches for a photo, inspecting it with a critical gaze. “i mean, ancient textiles might be interesting to you and maybe five other people, but it isn’t exactly blowing me out of the water.”

dropping to the seat across the table, you huff. “well, we’re a photography museum, rachel. it’s not like i can whip up a few outfits and put them on mannequins.”

“excuse me, but fashion design is just as artistic as curating a museum—if not more so.” she sighs and puts the photo of a thirteenth century chinese table linen on the table. “there must be something else you’re interested in? something that other people will like just as much?”

you don’t mean to, but you let your eyes trail to the camera sitting on on the tv stand. you’d left it there after your return, uncertain where to put it. sometimes you catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of your eye and then you remember the tubes of film in your bedroom, undeveloped and unseen. 

rachel follows your gaze. “you know, you never told me where you got that.”

“it was a gift.”

“oh really? from who?”

you’re slow to answer. the truth sits on the tip of your tongue—the man i love, the man i was going to marry—but you bite it back. “my great-aunt. she left it to me... in her will.”

you aren’t sure what compels you to retrieve the six rolls of film from your bedroom, but you do. the tubes feel heavy in your palm and clang against the table as you put them down. rachel looks at them then back at you, waiting.

“she gave me these, too.”

“i didn’t know you had a great-aunt.”

“we weren’t close.”

“obviously you were close enough to get these things.” rachel lifts one of the tubes, turning it over in her palm. “wonder what the pictures are.”

“i’m not sure,” you lie. “maybe they could make an exhibit.”

“i think you’d have to develop them first then make that decision.” she rises from the table and shrugs on her coat. “i’ve got a date, so don’t wait up. and try not to let this consume you too much? you’ve been down and out lately. i think the work will do you good, but don’t let it take over, yeah?”

you nod and wish her well on her date. she leaves the flat in a flourish, leaves you to the tubes of film and the growing curiosity in your stomach.

you really should get them developed. if not for an exhibit, then for yourself. an entire year of your life is in those tubes, and you deserve to see the photos you’d taken to preserve that time.

it’s been six months. you’ve purposefully distanced yourself from anything and everything related to queen, be it a simple news story, a song on the radio, or any of roger or brian’s social media posts. it hurts to see them, to know that they’re so close yet so far away, that they have no idea what became of you all those years ago in japan.

still, it’s been six months. developing the film might be your first step toward a sense of closure. you don’t want to stay in your rut forever. though you’re comfortable with the idea that brian might be your great love and you’ll never find another, you know you can’t stay as you are, sullen and despondent. it’s like a break-up, really. you’re sad, heartbroken over the loss, but you know it’s time to step out of the hurt and into something different.

before you can stop yourself, you grab the rolls of film, your purse, and your jacket, and you head for the nearest photo shop.

a few hours later, you return with a heavy packet of freshly-printed photographs and a usb drive full of digital scans. there’s over two hundred photos to sort through, and you’ve yet to see one. 

flipping on the light to your living room, you sit down beside the coffee table, a glass of wine at your side, the table cleared of any lingering books or empty teacups. before you open the packet of photos, you open your laptop and type your search into the search bar. if you’re going to quell your curiosity tonight, you might as well quell all of it, and you’re dying to know what happened after you left. 

a simple internet search confirms what you already know: your presence within the group on the jazz tour did not alter any significant events. freddie still passed away, john still retired. a further search yields at least one previously nonexistent queen song written by brian may: “into thin air.” it was released in the album following jazz. you can’t bring yourself to listen to it, not yet. a deeper search unearths an interview brian gave a year or so after you left. the interview was published in a magazine editorial covering of each of queen’s band members and their lives when not on tour or recording. after freddie’s bit, there’s a photograph of brian at the top of a new page. he’s smiling, but he looks weary and he mentions you only once: “i was engaged for awhile, but that ended in an unfortunate circumstance, so to answer your question: no, i’m not looking for love. not right now, anyway.”

you close the laptop and lean back against the sofa. the ring on your finger feels heavy. your eyes fill with unshed tears, and you decide the photos can wait to be seen until tomorrow.

the packet of photos ends up sitting on the coffee table for two weeks before you invite your co-worker, shamik, over for wine and cheese and museum gossip. shamik is kind, a first-generation immigrant from india with personality to spare and an exuberance for all things american. he claims it’s his greatest curse that his parents brought him to britain as a baby instead of america, and it’s something he can never forgive them for. you’ve only interacted with shamik at work, but when you mention your exhibit project, he’s eager to offer his help. with no new ideas outside ancient textiles, you’re willing to take whatever advice or ideas he has.

sitting beside him on the couch, you spread your collection of papers and pictures on the table to explain your vision. he listens dutifully, nodding along, his eyes scanning the 3-d projection you’ve made of what the exhibit might look like once completed. when you’ve finished your spiel, he sets his wine glass down and nods to the packet of unopened photographs on the edge of the table.

“what’s that?”

you frown, shaking your head at the sudden turn in conversation. “sorry?”

he reaches for the manilla envelope. “oh, it’s hefty! what’s in here?”

you sigh and take the packet from his hands. it feels solid in your lap, like a brick. “photos from my great-aunt.”

he points to the sealed flap. “it’s unopened.”

“i haven’t gotten the chance to look through it yet.” setting the packet to the side, you raise your eyebrows. “well, what do you think? about the exhibit?”

“honestly? it’s dull. monica won’t be impressed.”

you throw yourself back against the couch with a groan. “what the hell,” you whisper. “i’ve got no ideas then.”

you know ancient textile photography would not be the most enticing exhibit, but it’s been an interest of yours for some time and would be easy enough to complete. shamik and rachel’s reactions do not bode well, you have to admit. having a job as an assistant curator right out of the gate would be beyond marvelous, and you desperately don’t want to screw it up with a boring first exhibit.

“let’s have a look at these pictures from your aunt!” before you can stop him, shamik reaches across your lap for the photo packet and rips open the top. “maybe that will spark some ideas?”

you lean forward, blush already rising to your cheeks as he pulls out the first picture. “oh no, shamik, i don’t know if—”

“holy shit!”

you shut your eyes, wincing.

“that’s fucking freddie mercury!” shamik grabs your shoulder, his fingers digging into your flesh. “did you know about this, [y/n]? that’s your aunt with freddie mercury!”

forcing your eyes open, you look at the photo trembling between his fingers. it’s a picture of you sitting beside freddie on the tour bus. (you think john took the photo in an effort to get you to stop taking photos of him when he was asleep while roger and crystal placed as many items on his head as they could before he fully awoke.) your head is against freddie’s shoulder, your eyes droopy with sleep. a lump rises in your throat, and all you can do is shake your head in feigned disbelief as shamik continues to shuffle through the photos.

“oh my god, your aunt was a groupie,” he cries, passing you another photo.

“i guess—” you clear your throat. “i guess she was.”

“you know”—shamik sets the pile of photos down and spreads them across the table, obscuring your vision of an ancient textiles display—“this would make a great exhibit.”

“shamik—” your voice is a warning, a sudden surge of anger rising in your chest, but he continues.

“no, really, [y/n]! there are so many photos here that tell such a cutesy little story. i mean, come on? freddie and this cat?” he lifts the photo in question. “it’s stuff people have never seen before from a totally different side of queen. it’s a fucking goldmine!” 

“absolutely not,” you say. “i will not put my aunt’s personal affairs on display.”

“think of monica, [y/n]! think of the job!”

“no, shamik!” you stand from the table and drop your plates in the kitchen sink with a resolute clatter. “i barely knew my aunt, but i know enough to gather that her time with queen was private. she didn’t say anything about it until she died. that’s got to mean something, and i don’t want to air it all out for everyone to see and speculate and gossip about just for my own personal gain.”

you’re shouting, fists clenched at your sides, by the time you finish. shamik just stares at you, his face blank and unreadable. he glances down at a photo. 

“she looks a lot like you,” he says, his voice even.

you huff and take the wine glasses from the table. “we’ve got strong family genes. now, please, i’d appreciate it if you just drop the whole queen thing. we can find some other idea.”

you gather the photos, shove them back in the folder, and toss the envelope in the nearest drawer you can find. the drawer slams shut, and you leave the photos there to gather dust.

you mull over shamik’s idea of an exhibit based on your photos for a month before you finally relent. monica’s riding your ass daily with questions about your progress. you need to get something down on paper for her to give to the contractors, so you begrudgingly type out a response to her most recent email:

monica,

i’ve landed on an exhibit topic at last. took me long enough, right? 

i’ve recently come into possession of a series of photographs taken by my late great-aunt. turns out she was a groupie with the band queen in the ‘70s. my exhibit will be centered around those photos. i’m thinking the exhibit will be titled “queen: unfiltered.” do with that what you will. :)

monica, much to your dismay, loves the idea and sends you right to work on gathering and laying out your vision while she begins the necessary promotion.

it hurts at first—looking at all the photos you took, remembering the way you felt so unearthly happy during that year. you cry each time you sit down to sort out the best of the pictures. the ones which capture a moment of levity amongst the band or are particularly well-shot go in a pile on the left. the ones which didn’t develop well or are too intimate for you to ever consider putting on display go in a pile on the right. your bedroom floor is a mess of drafted captions written on slips of printer paper, photographs with notes scrawled along the back, and used tissues. more than anything, you wish you could step into the world behind those photographs. you want to be back there—with him, with them—until you grow old and gray. knowing you can’t, that you won’t ever see him again, tears you apart inside.

but it helps. the exhibit forces you to acknowledge the time you spent with brian, with queen. instead of leaving the photos in a drawer, they confront you everyday as you sit down to work, and everyday it gets a little bit easier to face your past. as the tears subside, you find yourself laughing whenever you find a new photo of roger’s antics. your heart doesn’t clench as much when you run across another photo of you and brian. you can smile now when you look at his face. he really was so handsome...

you go so far as to frame your favorite photograph of your time together and place it on your dresser. he’s got his arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin settled on the top of your head. you’re laughing, your hands folded on his arms, legs crossed as you tilt to the side. he’s making a face, his tongue stuck out at the camera, and every time you pass by the picture, you can’t help but chuckle.

you love him still. you’ll love him always.

with three weeks before the opening of the exhibit, the stress is starting to get the better of you. you’ve bitten your nails down to the quick, there’s heavy bags under your eyes from lack of sleep, and you can’t remember the last time you consumed something other than coffee. despite the stress, you feel lighter. working through the photos, laying them out in order, writing the captions, pouring over the faces of the ones you love so dearly—it’s all helped ease the burden in your heart. for the first time in a long time, you slip out of bed in the mornings with a newfound sense of energy and purpose.

life will go on. just as you did when you fell into the past, you will find a new future.

arms laden with exhibit proposals and mock-ups, you brush into your local coffee shop—pretty bird—intent on getting some real work done on choosing the final photographs before you send them off to be printed. you order your usual and take a seat by the front. the air which wafts through the open window at your side is warm with spring and rebirth, and you breathe deep, cracking open the lid of your laptop. you manage to pick a total of twelve of the seventy-six needed photographs before you’re interrupted.

“whatcha workin’ on?” matthew, barista extraordinaire and casual acquaintance, sits down on the bench across from you. he has his own cup of cold brew poised between his lips, and the piercing in his eyebrow wiggles as he moves his brow up and down.

“an exhibit for the museum,” you say, pausing to roll your tight shoulders. “it’s my first.”

“do tell!”

you explain, briefly, how to came to acquire your dead aunt’s photographs and the general theme of the showcase. he nods in approval then snaps as if he’s remembered something.

“hold on. stay right there. i’ll be right back.” he puts his coffee down, scoots off of the bench, and darts to the back of the coffee shop. you wait and listen to the sound of the birds twittering outside before he returns with a framed picture in hand. “i just learned about this,” he says, taking his seat again. “this building used to be a disco back in the 70s.” he hands you the frame and points to a collection of people in the middle of a disco bar. “that’s queen. they came here once and somebody had the smarts to take a picture.”

your hands shake around the photograph, eyes darting from one corner of the picture to another. 

matthew keeps talking. “the place was called climax. can you believe that? the 70s were fuckin’ wild, mate.”

you nod, lips parted, and skim your fingers over the incredibly tall and recognizable form of brian in the center of the photo. you can see your shoulder, jammed between freddie and crystal, but the rest of your body is obscured. you lift your eyes from the frame and glance around the coffee shop, at the exposed metal beams and vaulted ceilings, at the disco ball still hanging in the center of the room.

makes sense now. why the building had felt so eerily familiar back then.

handing matthew the picture frame, you sit back in your chair. “wonder if my aunt ever came,” you say.

“maybe? sounds like she was in pretty tight. you know who you could ask?” you shake your head, uncertain of matthew’s question. “chris taylor. he was a roadie back then. he’s a regular here. comes in at least twice at week.”

you can’t stop the hand that flies to your mouth in surprise. you try to smother your gasp with a cough, but matthew still stares at you like you’ve sprouted another head. 

“you okay?” he asks warily.

nodding, you take a sip of your drink. “yeah, yeah, sorry! wrong pipe.”

“so, do you want to meet him and ask about your aunt?”

everything in you screams to say no. it’s too dangerous. you will surely break the moment you see him. crystal became your lifeline apart from brian during that year. he was your brother, your partner in crime, the one who kept you grounded when things got too wild. just knowing that he’s frequented the same coffee shop as you for the last six months brings tears to your eyes. you could have run into him. hell, you might’ve already. still, you aren’t sure if you’d be able to make it through a proper meeting without spilling your guts and apologizing for the way you left.

“[y/n]?” matthew pulls you from your thoughts. “what do you think?”

you hesitate before shrugging. you speak before you can stop yourself, before the rational and reasonable part of you can take over. god, you need this. if it’s your only opportunity for true closure, you’ll take it. “if he’s up to it then... sure.”

matthew grins. “come in tomorrow. i’ll introduce you!”

that night you toss and turn. you’re plagued with anxiety. will crystal recognize you? if he does, what will he say? will he be angry? what if he tells brian and then—

your bedside alarm goes off just as you fall asleep. it’s a struggle to drag yourself out of bed, but you must. there’s closure somewhere around the corner, and if you just move your ass, you’ll find it. you have one class this morning then your meeting with crystal. you’re jittery by the time you leave class, but you chalk that up to drinking two cups of coffee before leaving your flat and one in class. 

it’s drizzling as you make your way to the coffee shop. you hasten your steps, head bent against the rain and fingers curled around the strap of your bag. when you enter the shop, it’s nearly empty aside from a few lonesome students studying in far off corners. you can hear the faint thrill of music over the loudspeakers, but the blood that’s rushing to your ears blocks out most of the melody.

crystal’s already here, leaning against the counter, in conversation with matthew.

you stop in your tracks. he’s bald now, slightly pudgier with age, but he looks every bit as devilish as you remember.

you swallow past the fear in your throat and the anxiety in your veins and step forward. you voice wobbles when you speak. “matthew?” you direct your entrance to your friend because if you come right out and say crystal’s name, you will surely fall over in a puddle of emotion.

“there you are!” matthew jumps over the counter in one easy leap and lands to the floor beside you. he drapes his arm around your shoulders and motions to crystal. “[y/n], i’d like you to meet chris taylor. chris, this is [y/n], the girl i was telling you about.”

crystal’s staring at you through his blue-tinted glasses like he’s seen a ghost. his jaw has gone slack, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to formulate a sentence. 

you shove your hand into the space between you. “nice to meet you, mr. taylor.”

looking between matthew and yourself, he gathers himself, clearing his throat, and shakes your hand. “you too.”

“should we sit?” you motion to the same table you occupied the day before. “i can buy you a coffee for your troubles.”

he shakes his head and lifts his cup. “already got mine.”

“all right, well...” you glance at matthew.

“do you want your regular?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

“comin’ right up.”

crystal follows you to the table and sits down, his movements slow. for a moment, you sit in silence and allow his eyes to roam your face. you can’t tell if he knows it’s you or if he thinks it’s just a coincidence. you want to reach out and take the hand he rubs across the bridge of his nose, but you fold your fingers in your lap.

“thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” you finally say.

“you aunt,” he starts.

“yes, my aunt.” you pull a photograph out of your bag. it’s one of the few you took with crystal all those years ago. he’s got you in a headlock, his opposite fist grinding into the top of your skull. you slide the picture across the table. “you knew her?”

crystal lifts the photo, inspects it, before putting it down. he sighs, shaking his head. “i loved that woman. broke my heart when she left.” his gaze lifts from the table. “you look like her, have her name too.”

you look away, out the window at the side. there’s bird fluttering in a puddle on the sidewalk, and you watch it for a moment before turning back to him. “i think my mother loved her a great deal. i didn’t get the chance to know her, though. we only just found these pictures recently.”

his eyes narrow. “i mean, you really look like her.”

you force a smile. “thank you. that’s kind of you.” shifting, you tap your finger on the table. “i know her leaving wasn’t exactly...” you struggle to find the proper word, but he jumps to assist.

“natural?”

“well, i was going to say easy, but—”

“she fuckin’ disappeared! excuse my language.” huffing, he drops back against his chair. “one minute she was there, the next minute she was gone. i swear, i’ve never seen anyone skip town that fast.”

“she didn’t say anything about leaving?”

“why would she? she was engaged! she had no reason to leave that i know of.”

“was she happy?”

“hell yes. her and brian—i’ve never seen two people more fit for one another. brian just about lost his mind trying to find her, but it was like she never existed. strangest thing.” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee, looking askance, before his eyes whiz back to yours. “oh my fucking god.” 

you look up, fear sparking in your belly. “what?”

“[y/n]?”

you blink. your head feels dizzy with the way he’s looking at you, like he’s about to jump across the table and throttle you or hug you so tight your insides might squeeze out of your body.

“fuck,” he breathes. “it is you.”

“i don’t know know what you’re—”

“don’t play dumb with me!” he leans across the table and lowers his voice. “i was the one who got you that phony passport, remember? i always wondered why i couldn’t find your credentials. had to lie my way through it until i got the damn thing. you’re lucky everything was so lax in the 70s.” he shakes his head. “how’d you do it?”

there’s part of you that wants to deny, deny, deny.

but it’s crystal. you can’t lie to him any more than you already have.

“i had no choice in the matter,” you say plainly. “one minute i was here, the next minute i was there, and the next minute i was here again.”

his jaw works back and forth as he processes the information. “does brian know?”

“no—and i’d like to keep it that way.”

“i thought we might lose him after you left.”

you twist the ring on your finger. “if i’d had the choice, i would have stayed. i hope you know that.”

crystal nods. “yeah, i do.” he holds your gaze then motions to your bag. “so, this exhibit matthew told me about. you’re publishing all those photos you took?”

“yes. there are some pictures i’ve saved for myself, but my boss, monica, she got permission from the record label to go ahead with the others. it opens in three weeks.”

“i’ll be there if i can. i’d like to see those pictures.”

you smile, your first earnest smile of the day. “you feature many times.”

he ducks his head like an embarrassed schoolboy. “we were thick as thieves, weren’t we?”

“you and roger were thicker, but i’d like to think i had a part to play some of the time.”

he lifts his head and heaves a heavy sigh. “you know, when i said i loved you, i meant it. not in the way brian did. you were like a kid sister to me. i cared for you a great deal.”

before you can stop yourself, you slip your hand across the table to grasp his worn fingers. his shoulders shake on another sigh, and he lifts his opposite hand to wipe at his eyes beneath his glasses. 

“oh, crystal. i’m so sorry,” you whisper. it hurts to see him cry, to know that you’re the cause behind his pain. 

he waves your apology away, sniffing hard. “i’m just glad to know you’re okay. we thought you might’ve gotten picked up or—” he shakes his head and pats your hand over his, meeting your eyes. “you’re okay, though. that’s what matters.”

“will you really come to my exhibit?”

“anything for you, kid.” he thumbs the underside of your chin with a lopsided grin. “even after all this time, i’m putty in your hands.”

you grin and hand him a business card, which he tucks in the folds of his wallet. rising from his seat, he opens his arms and you practically trip into his hug. he holds you tight for the briefest of moments before pulling back. he pats your cheek.

“i’ll see you in three weeks, yeah? if i stay any longer i’ll end up a sobbin’ mess on the floor.”

you nod. “yeah. and, crystal?” he turns at the door. “don’t tell brian. please.”

he leaves without another word.

the day of the exhibit opening you are equal parts thrilled and a nervous wreck. everyone’s here—your family, rachel, shamik, even matthew. you haven’t seen crystal amidst the crowd mingling in the lobby, but you trust him to show. he’s always been reliable, and you doubt he’ll fail you now.

monica squeezes your shoulder as she passes you by in the staff hallway. “it looks wonderful, [y/n]. consider yourself hired,” she says and hands you a keycard. “i’m going to give you a piece of advice i got when i completed my first exhibit: go have a moment by yourself. look at your work, be proud of it. you deserve it.”

with trembling fingers and a racing heart, you make your way down the corridor to the south exhibit hall. due to a celebratory lunch with rachel the day before, you hadn’t gotten the chance to see the room in its final state. in retrospect, you’re thankful for the chance to see it for the first time alone. at least this way, if you cry, no one will have to know.

the door beeps as it unlocks, and you slip inside the room. you descend the handful of stairs which lead into the showroom floor and suck in a deep breath. 

before entering the exhibit, there’s a wall to the side with a simple explanation written in a white font:

queen: unfiltered — this exhibit preserves and presents never-before-seen images of the popular band, queen, through the eyes of an unnamed woman who spent a year traveling the world on queen’s jazz album tour. her images are intimate yet distinctive and offer a personal glimpse into the lives of one of britain’s most well-known bands. 

at the far end of the room hang four banners spanning floor to ceiling. the banners wave gently in the air blowing throughout the room, illuminated from lights on the ceiling and floor. each banner hosts an oversized photo of one of the band’s members in an image that best captures their personality. it took you hours to find the right photo for each man, but you stand by your choice for each one.

there’s john on the far left, head bent as he strums the bass across his knee. his lips are pursed in thought, a line of concentration on his brow.

there’s freddie next to him. he stands in a spanish alley way, cradling a stray cat in his arms. he looks serenely on at the camera, a rare moment of simplicity.

there’s brian sat in an overstuffed armchair, his gangly legs crossed, a book open on his lap. he has the corner of his thumb in his mouth, and if you squint you can see the edge of his tongue.

there’s roger on the far right. he’s smiling at the camera, his eyes bright with mischief and joy. there’s a party hat snug on the crown of his head, pulling the skin of his forehead taut.

on opposite sides of the room, two parallel rows of twelve photos hang in neat order. you decided to have every photograph in the exhibit printed in black-and-white and, in all, you painstakingly picked the forty-eight photos featured in their simple white frames. you walk along the wall, hands clasped at your waist, eyes running over the memories you hold so dear.

the afternoon crystal taught you ride a bike in barcelona: you’re sat on the handlebars after a hard fall, mouth open in a squeal of delight as crystal whips toward the camera.

roger and john tossing an apple back and forth in an ottawa grocery store: john’s smile is broad, the apple caught on film midair.

brian sitting on the floor of your hotel suite: there’s a tray of sushi at his feet, and he’s smiling at you, his hair wet from a shower.

freddie playing the piano in the airport in yugoslavia: he’d been so excited to see one, his shoes had slipped on the slick floor as he ran to it. he’d played dramatically, conducting those around him in a horrible rendition of “god save the queen.”

your eyes sting with tears as you glance about the room. you’re proud of your work. it looks good, professional and elegant, but more than that, you’re proud of yourself for the work you’ve done in mending your broken heart. though you will never live the life you’d once dreamed of, you will always have the memories—and that’s got to count for something.

when the double-doors open and monica ushers the first of the patrons in, you slip into the closest bathroom to wipe at the makeup smudged under your eyes. you’re happy, truly so, and you want to celebrate—celebrate both of your lives as they finally come together.

the room is crowded when you reenter, conversation and gentle laughter mingling in the air. you accept a tight hug from rachel when you see her and the congratulations of your parents. you can’t stop smiling, and you’re sure your face will hurt come morning, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?

your parents float away, hand in hand, and you find yourself alone in the center of the room, watching in awe as people you’ve never met look at your photos, at your memories, and nod in appreciation. your chest swells with an emotion you can’t place.

“i think this calls for a congratulations. you’ve outdone yourself, dove.”

you whirl on your heel, lip caught between your teeth in a poorly-concealed smile. “you came.”

crystal grins. the tie of his suit is rumbled and askew, and you reach out to straighten it. old habits die hard. “i said i would.”

“what do you think?”

“i think it’s fantastic. the lads would be proud.”

“maybe.” you shrug. “guess we’ll never know.”

“are you really so intent on staying hidden forever?”

you nod. “yes. it took everything in me to even talk to you. i don’t want to ruin their lives again by popping back up, especially because i’m not exactly old, am i?”

crystal laughs, shaking his head. “you must think you’re hot stuff if a simple hello could ruin a life.” his laughter fades into a simple smile. “now, i know you’re going to hate me and i’m willing to take that, but i did tell a certain someone about the exhibit.”

you can feel the blood drain from your face. “crystal, you didn’t.”

he winces. “i might’ve.”

you slap his arm and curl your fingers into his bicep. “you bastard!”

he holds up his hands in defense, decent enough to plaster a look of contrition on his face. “look, i didn’t tell him the context or what tipped me off. i just told him there was a new exhibit about queen and he was eager to come see. that’s all!”

you swallow hard, uncertain how to respond. “i—” your head twists back and forth in utter confusion. “i don’t know what to do.”

crystal’s face softens, and he nudges your shoulder. “go talk to him. he deserves that much, doesn’t he?”

you can’t argue with that.

giving crystal’s arm a grateful squeeze, your legs shake beneath you as you turn and see him—brian—across the room.

you don’t know how you didn’t see him before. even now, forty years later, he’s still unmistakeable: still tall, still gangly, but his hair has gone white and his strides are slower. the overwhelming urge to tear across the room and curl yourself around his back nearly overpowers you, but you shove it down and manage to cross the floor in slow, even steps. you keep your eyes glued to his back, your hands twitching at your sides. when you reach him and catch a faint whiff of his cologne, the same he wore all those years ago, you have to push back the tears that rise unbidden to your eyes.

you tap his shoulder. “dr. may?”

he circles around, as does his wife anita, her arm snug in his elbow.

brian blinks hard, his brow furrowed in confusion. for a moment, you let him stare at you as you stare right back. his eyes are the same. you’d thought they’d be different, but they aren’t. the realization stuns you silent.

anita glances between you both before smiling sweetly. “good evening, sweetheart,” she says, and her voice is so kind you can’t even summon the slightest bit of jealousy. “i’m afraid i didn’t catch your name.”

“oh, i’m sorry!” you laugh and find that smiling at anita isn’t hard. “my name’s [y/n] [y/l/n]. i created the exhibit. i thought i might come and introduce myself.”

“oh, how lovely!” anita claps her hands together. “what you’ve done is so beautiful, [y/n]. it’s nearly brought a tear to my eye.”

“that’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

“brian likes it too. don’t you, brian?”

he still can’t seem to formulate any sort of response. he’s frozen in place, and your heart lurches for him. to see the woman he’d once asked to marry him, the one so cruelly ripped away, while standing next to his wife... precisely why you never wanted to meddle in his current affairs.

finally, he seems to collect himself. he sucks in a deep breath and nods in agreement. “yes, i do. very much.”

“that means a lot,” you say, easing your smile back into place. “thank you.”

“i’ll leave you two to talk to for a moment. i see crystal hovering in the corner over there, and i’m sure you both have many questions for one another.” anita presses her hand on your arm as she passes. “lovely job, dear.”

she leaves, and you’re left alone with the greatest love of your life.

you wait for him to speak.

“you’re... alive?” it’s a question, not a statement.

“yes.”

“you’re the same age?”

“yes.”

“how did—” he shakes his head. “i don’t understand.”

“neither do i.”

his chin quivers slightly, and he looks away. “i thought you’d been taken or decided to—”

you dare to touch his arm. a spark jolts through your fingers at the slightest touch, but you hold firm. “nothing happened,” you explain. “other than nature righting her mistake.”

“i think—i think i need to sit down.”

“yes, of course. my office is down the hall. it’s quiet there.”

he nods and leans against your arm as you lead him down the hall. in the silence of your dimly lit office, he collapses to the loveseat beneath the window and drops his face to his hands. you hesitate in the doorway until he looks up. tears shimmer in his eyes, and you swallow hard, your smile wavering around the edges.

he stands then, crosses the floor, and cradles your face in his hands. “my god,” he breathes. “it really is you.”

with a laugh, you hold his wrists. “in the flesh.”

“how long’s it been?” his thumb works over your cheekbone and, though you know he should stop, you can’t bring yourself to step away from his touch.

“about seven months.”

he snorts. “try forty years.”

“you seem like you did well for yourself, though.”

he shrugs. “i suppose.”

“you’re happy?”

there’s a heavy pause before he says, “yes.”

“that’s all i want to hear.”

slipping out of his grasp, you put a modicum of space between you both. the air is thick with emotion, and your heart beats wildly against your chest. the love you thought you’d put to bed flares at the mere sight of him, even after all this time.

you drift your finger through the sand of your tabletop zen garden. “i told crystal not to tell you about me,” you admit.

“he didn’t—not in so many words.”

“i know. i’m glad he said something, though.” you pause, meet his gaze. “it’s so good to see you, bri.”

quiet falls over the room as he stares at you. you don’t squirm. you’re comfortable under his gaze, always have been.

“i hope you know i never stop looking,” he says. “even after anita, i kept trying to find you. just to know.”

“and i hope you know that i would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant i got to be with you even for a time.”

your phone vibrates on the desk, skidding across your oversized calendar. you reach for the phone and flip it over before slipping it in the purse hung over your desk chair.

“i’ve got to go,” you admit, crossing to his side. “i’ve actually got a date.”

to your surprise, his eyes crinkle with amusement. “i’m happy to hear it.” he lifts a hand and smooths back the hair from the side of your face. he looks at you with all the love he did forty years ago, and you wish you could take a picture to remember forever. 

but then you remember: you have dozens of photos at home, and it doesn’t seem too hard to let him go now. not after the work you’ve put into mending your heart. you can face this, face saying goodbye for good. you have to, for his sake and your own.

rising to your tiptoes, you place a hand on his shoulder and kiss the corner of his mouth—one last touch, for you both. you wind your arm around his neck and whisper in his ear, “i love you, brian may. i always will.”

he squeezes you hard against his body, sucking in a ragged breath. “i love you too, [y/n].”

dropping back to your heels, you huff a breath and smile wide. “well, i’d better go.”

“yes, you’d better. don’t keep the lad waiting.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, your hand lingering on his. “okay, well... goodbye, brian.”

he smiles, and it’s the loveliest sight you’ve ever seen. he brushes you cheek with the back of his hand, whispering, “see you later, love.”

dipping out the back of the museum, you walk down the street, purse slung over your shoulders. you think you’ll be able to sleep well for the first time in a long time tonight. 

you hope he can, too.

~*~*~*

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[storyofsin]

Do you know anything about the movie Performance 1970? If so please would you share your knowledge with us, I find the whole thing so intriguing but know nothing.

Okay I know I received this ask well over a month ago but I rewatched Performance last night and finally feel prepared to talk about it. I'm going to be separating this into two parts; behind the scenes drama and actual film discussion.

Behind the scenes drama:

Okay so the infamous drama that went down that this is known for is that Keith Richards accused Anita Pallenberg with having an affair on Mick Jagger while on set. This almost broke up The Rolling Stones (kind of like how Brian Jones wanted quiet after Anita left him for Keith) but obviously Mick and Keith were able to get over it and I believe not too long after filming Anita found out she was pregnant with her and Keith's first son Marlon. I remember reading stuff that supposedly Keith presumed that the baby might not have been his but christ that boy is Keith's clone.

However I should also mention that initially Marianne Faithfull was supposed to have Anita's role but she found out she was pregnant and had to be recasted (around that time Anita found out she was pregnant as well but decided to have an abortion so she could keep the role - I'm not shaming, actually good for her! there is no such thing as a bad reason to get an abortion!). But I still can't believe Mick cheated on a pregnant Marianne, I know he horribly cheated on everyone he had ever been with but christ Mick, have a little integrity for once in your life! But that same man also cheated on Bianca Jagger so yeah, he's an idiot.

I would also like to add this film was shot in 1968 and I can't imagine how ahead of its time this would have been but Warner Bros execs were apparently incredibly grossed out by the film, in particular the disgusting and filthy conditions of the bathtub that the 'women' (word used in what I read despite the fact Mick Jagger is in that tub as well) were all bathing in. Honestly the filth is what makes the film so much more real and interesting compared to a lot of other psychedelic films from around that time.

The soundtrack for the film was meant to be done by The Rolling Stones as a whole but due to the affair Keith was not interested in doing that and that was when Brian was going through his breakdown after his second drug bust.... so no score from them :( but it's still an amazing score but there are bits that sound, and forgive me if this makes no sense, that sound very Brian Jones-ish. There are aspects of that score that remind me of his contributions, the songs that he had a big part in composing, and even the A Degree of Murder score. I don't necessarily think they were trying to rip him off, I honestly think it helps add to the whole idea that Mick's character Turner is inspired by Brian (and having seen this film 3x I feel like I can see more and more of him in Turner with just a little hint of Keith for balance).

This is a little more silly and I have pointed it out on my blog before but you can see the kaftan Brian wears at the Rock and Roll Circus on one of the clothing racks in the film (also there are behind the scenes photos of Anita wearing it - probably because it's hers and Brian most likely stole it) Here are comparisons:

I wonder if it was revenge for the amount of clothes Anita took from Brian after their big break up... but that's not important. Now onto the film itself.

Film discussion (Spoilers obviously):

I can honestly say I needed the three watches to be able to understand this. I was completely confused the first time around (did not help I took like 3 gummy edibles and it was the second time I had done that... the sound became distorted in parts and the screen was spinning lol) but I still loved what I watched and specifically remember absolutely loving Mick's performance (still one of my favorites) but there are so many layers to this - everyone always seems to hyper focus on the drug aspect and rarely on the sexuality and gender parts of the film. Obviously drugs are a big part of the film - I believe it was one of the film's directors who stated that Performance was made to be a pro-drug film (which is hilarious). But if that was all the film was then it would have been another forgettable psychedelic film much like The Trip (1967) or Psych-Out (1968) (though I do suggest Psych-Out! I love that film) but it goes much deeper than those films do.

With the drug aspect, I like how the psychedelic, tripping scenes weren't like how the other films did it with bright colorful spinning lights all over the place but instead with a kind of ugly sequence that goes straight to the brain - because that's what drugs do, you're not going somewhere else you are entering your own mind. And Chaz, the film's protagonist played by James Fox, sees in his drugged out state Mick Jagger as the role of his boss making references to his sexuality in a sly way while making all of Chaz's associates strip naked. It's all scored to Mick Jagger's song 'Memo from Turner' (love, love, love this song by the way).

Throughout the film the idea of performing comes up a lot (duh it's the title of the film) but specifically the concept of presenting yourself in such a way that it appeases those around you. In Chaz's case it's shown in the film that his whole persona is a performance, that his toxic masculinity and heterosexuality are not really him. That he over emphasizes his attraction to women because that is what he is meant to be but his true self slips in every once in a while, the main visual I remember is his wall covered in nude photos of women but there also being a few photos of boxers that are in great shape and only wearing shorts. There is a character, Joey, that enters the film who has some kind of a past friendship with Chaz but it clearly went horribly wrong as Chaz's boss does not want him to speak to him. But Chaz disobeys and ends up pissing off Joey so he retaliates by destroying Chaz's apartment with red paint (including the word 'poof' written on the wall), beating the crap out of him, humiliating him and trying to get him to admit to his sexuality. He ultimately kills Joey instead because he would rather be a murderer than admit to who he really is.

Chaz and Turner have an interesting relationship to say the least. Chaz, on one hand, seems to be rather uncomfortable by the 'bohemian' lifestyle that Turner and his two girlfriends, Pherber (Anita Pallenberg) and Lucy (Michele Breton), live. Turner and Pherber take it upon themselves to expand Chaz's mind themselves by 1) trying to get him to dress more femininely and trying to get him to admit that it's perfectly fine to feel like you are a woman sometimes (with reference that neither Turner or Pherber fully identify as either man or woman entirely) and 2) drugging him with hallucinogenic mushrooms leading to the musical sequence featuring Turner.

The film implies throughout that Chaz and Turner have some form of an interest in one another, whether it be platonic, sexual, or romantic I think is more up to the viewer (though I would not say it's platonic...) The scene that gets to me while watching is towards the end, Chaz wakes up and find Turner in his bedroom than it cuts to the two of them in bed together and they embrace but then it cuts to reveal that it isn't actually Turner but Lucy (who Chaz thinks kind of looks more like a younger boy than a woman). He does like Lucy but there is a clear sentiment throughout that he wishes it was Turner who did come to his room. Even Turner seems kind of mad that he let Lucy go down to talk to Chaz when initially he wanted to be the one to do that.

In the end when Chaz is forced to leave because his boss finally found him, he makes one final goodbye to Turner (and Pherber) but Turner is insistent that he join him. Turner represents so much to Chaz, he represents what Chaz secretly wishes to be; completely open with his sexuality and gender and not caring if anyone is uncomfortable by it while also being clearly attracted to Turner as well. But Chaz is confused by everything going on (and he has a limited amount of time before he has to leave) and decides the only way he could be happy now is to become Turner. So he kills Turner, there is a quick shot of going through the bullet hole into his mind (similar to the tripping out scenes) and Chaz leaves. The film's ending is Chaz, now played by Mick Jagger, leaving in a car with his boss.

I must admit it took me until this third time watching to fully grasp the ending. Chaz is sick and tired of performing for everyone (i.e. being a masculine, heterosexual man) and the only way to stop that performance is to put on a new performance and become Turner (i.e. androgynous and non-heterosexual) because I don't think he can ever truly be himself. The whole film is everyone trying to get Chaz to be the real him but that's the last thing he could ever want. He'd rather place all these affectations on himself and play a role instead. It's just now this new performance is more aligned with his 'true' identity but nonetheless it's still a performance.

[muddyhippy]

Night Terrors Chapter 9: Battles after Bedtime

Wonderful artwork as always done by the fabulous @smolghostings!

Lily woke up as a rush of masked faces loomed at her. She lurched up gasping and surveyed her room, bathed as always in the glow of the little moon lamp.

 Nothing. Just a bad dream. Not even that scary and they were definitely not here now.

 Lily took stock. She felt alright. She probably wouldn’t go back to sleep immediately but she wasn’t scared enough to want to go and get in with Jonny. She was awake and a bit unhappy but she wasn’t scared.

 She hugged her knees for a minute before deciding what she wanted.

 Lily hopped out of bed and put her new boots on, the ones that were heavy for kicking and stomping but had pretty flowers embroidered all over them. She’d picked them out herself at the last market they’d visited. They made her feel big and strong and just as stompy as the rest of her friends.

 It was nice to wear them when she was out in the night time of Aurora, like she was prepared for things even if they were unexpected.

 She could still be quiet in them too and that was even better, it meant she could sneak past people if she wanted too. She never snuck up on them though, that was dangerous. Jonny had told her so the first time she’d tried to jump on his back in a surprise hug. He’d been very nice and Jonny about it but he’d warned that just because he realised at the last minute it was her the others might not and think they were being attacked. She wasn’t silly, she saw the look in his eyes before he realised it was her. He looked like he did the first time she came to his room after a nightmare.

 That was a bad look.

 That was a scary Jonny, not her Jonny.

Lily had no doubt whatsoever the rest of them had scary faces too and that was fine because that was what kept them all safe. It was a little bit different to her normal hugging he’d explained, because they couldn’t see it coming so even Marius might think she was a threat.

 She didn’t really comprehend the idea of them actually being a danger to her because they were her friends but was very careful anyway after that.

 She truly understood what Jonny was saying a few days later when Brian had accidentally surprised her in the kitchen. He knocked the handle of pot that was waiting to be put away, it fell off the side take half a dozen of its friends to the floor with it.

 Lily had seized the (thankfully) empty frying pan that was awaiting mushrooms and swung it fully at Brian’s face, convinced the noise meant raiders were about to descend on her.

 It look Lily a full three seconds to realise that what she’d done was hurl a heavy pan directly at her friend’s face and promptly burst into tears, running towards Brian wailing ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ Over and over again.

 Brian was genuinely non-plussed for a moment. He had just taken a pan to the face but that was getting off lightly compared to most days. He was just thinking how impressed he was at her strength and aim when she cannoned into his legs, fully wailing.

 Oh right. This sort of reaction to a startling sound shouldn’t be normal in children. (Or anyone but that was a moot point with this crew)

 Brian wasted no more time in picking her up and settling her against him, rubbing her back the way he’d seen Jonny do many times over the past few weeks.

 “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Are you okay?! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!”

 “Hey, hey now, it’s alright, it’s alright, it was an accident, I’m fine, I’m fine.” And he was, it took more than a kitchen accessory flung in fright to damage him. “Want to tell me what happened?”

 Brian knew exactly what had happened but it would do her good to recount it, then he could explain.

 “I-I-I, I-there was a big noise, it was crashing and it sounded just like on the ship and I thought the bad ones had come back and I wanted to stop them because they’re bad and I didn’t want them to hurt everyone here so I threw the pan because it might stop them but, but it wasn’t them! And that was silly because you wouldn’t let them on board anyway and then, then I’d thrown the pan at YOU and I’m sorry!” Lily started sobbing again.

 Brian let her cry herself out a bit, rubbing her back and holding her through it. Once she’d calmed down a bit, Brian humming Rose Red throughout she sniffed against his shoulder.

 “Can you hear me?”

 He received a wet nod to the neck.

 “Good, alright, Lily, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?”

 Another wet nod.

 “Good girl, it’s alright, you were scared and you reacted. It’s very understandable. Everyone here does that sometimes when they are surprised like you were. I know Jonny’s told you about this already and you’ve been very good and careful about not surprising us and I am very proud of you for that because I know you like to jump up and hug people. It’s just what happens when people have had times when they’ve been very, very scared and have been in danger like you. We all know what it’s like so I’m not cross and I’m not upset. I know you didn’t mean it, I’ll do my very best not to make big crashing noises around you. But I’m not cross and I’m not hurt.” He knew that was her big hang up. “We’d never let anyone on-board Aurora to scare you either.”

 Lily sniffed, “I know, you’d shoot them all first.”

 “Yes we would.” Well, the rest of them certainly would, if he was on EJM at the time he might get a little more creative and Jonny would most likely forget he had a gun use his bare hands if anyone made a move towards Lily, if that time a drunken barfly took offence at Nastya turning him down was anything to go by but she didn’t need to know that.

 “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 “That you’re not cross with me, that getting scared and fighting even if there’s no one there to fight is something that happens sometimes if you’ve been in danger and scared a lot. That is happens to everyone here and that’s why everyone tries to look after each other by not scaring each other.”

 “Very good, you’re an excellent listener.”

 “I still don’t like that I did that.”

 “I know little flower. I don’t like it when I do that either. None of us do. But bit by bit it gets a bit easier to manage, it helps knowing you’re safe with us.”

 “I know. I’m very safe with you all.”

 “Good. Just give it time.”

 “I’ll try.”

 She made absolutely no move to let go. Exhausted from the emotional outburst and enjoying the sense of security the pilot gave out, he was so strong and solid.

 Brian didn’t mind, it was nice to be wanted as a reassuring presence.

 Ivy and Marius ended up cooking dinner that night.  

 Lily was extra careful after that, very aware of how nasty it could be to be scared and accidentally hurt people because you were scared and she didn’t want to make her friends feel bad.

 The one person she never needed to be careful of was the Toy Soldier. The Toy Solider loved to be hugged and pounced on and played with. Lily practiced creeping up on it for tackle hugs and it always seemed to enjoy being included in any of her games. Lily loved the Toy Soldier, it always had interesting stories to tell and sung beautifully. It had taught her lots of songs and sayings and she loved to listen to it. It was amazing at playing games too.

 It was late enough that no one was around, Lily didn’t mind being on her own as much anymore because she could hear Aurora and knew there was someone there with her, even if they weren’t immediately visible. Lily could hum to Aurora and Aurora would hum back. Aurora was usually humming but she’d change her pitch depending on what Lily was humming directly to her to show she was listening.

 Sometimes it was happy tune and sometimes it was a soft one but it always sounded friendly and comforting.  

 She reached the mess without bumping into anyone or anything going wrong, plans of things to make tomorrow bubbling happily in her brain, if she was less tired she might have made some bread dough and left it to rise. Raphaella had made her some what she called ‘super yeast’ that only needed a little bit and could be left out for hours to rise. It made some impressive loaves once Lily and Marius worked out the right amounts. The first time had been messy. And sticky. But they got all the dough off the walls eventually.

 What she wanted right now was glass of warm milk then she could head back to bed. She’d had no idea how good warm milk could be, then again, she’d had no idea how good milk was full stop.

  As Lily headed in she did not expect company.

 She definitely did not expect to see the Toy Soldier sat at the table with the entire contents of the cutlery drawer dumped on the table which it was calmly sorting through.

 Lily stood and watched fascinated for a moment before curiosity got the better of her.

 “What are you doing TS?”

 “Oh! Lily! How Nice To See You!”

 “It’s nice to see you too TS but what are you doing?”

 “I Am Arranging All The Cutlery Into Proper Ranks. They Are Most Disorganised!”

 “What do you mean by rank? Are they just knife for cutting, fork for stabbing and spoon for scooping?”

 “No No No! They All Have Different Jobs You See And They All Have A Proper Place!”

 “But there’s only those three jobs?”

 “No, There Are Lots Of Different Jobs Young Bean!”

 “Oh. Can you show me please?”

 The Toy Soldier, whilst its face didn’t change looked somehow more delighted that usual.

 It very much liked Lily, she was so small but so full of energy and affection, it made it feel even more thrilled about playing with its’ friends because the games got a lot more gentle and lots more people joined in. They didn’t play their usual games as often, knife monopoly, gun karaoke and switchblade snakes and ladders were only played after Lily went to bed but they tended to play more games all together which was jolly nice and Lily always asked it to play which it adored.

 They’d all played the shooting game without bullets using the coloured water bombs instead several times and each had been spiffing fun! It had joined Lily in ganging up on several of the crew in a surprise attack, little Lily was becoming a sharp little tactical bean. Tim had talked about creating soft bullets they could shoot instead that wouldn’t hurt or break things and had shown it his blueprints for the new gun designs to shoot the soft bullets, it looked jolly complicated but it liked complicated mechanics. Tim had asked it to help because it and Brian were the best at clockwork mechanics and Tim wanted to avoid his usual barrel strike or laser model versions. It was nice to see him so excited about a new weapon, TS loved seeing its friends happy. Lily was helping Tim, Brian and it build the new gun too, she tested the weight of them.

 Lily understood the joy of being included.

 She would also make a good soldier if she wanted to be. When she was bigger. A proper uniform wouldn’t fit her yet and that just wouldn’t do.

 But it very much enjoyed Lily’s company, she was an excellent tea party guest and made lovely cakes with it in the kitchen, she made the effort to be extra delicate and even made literal tea cakes with finely powdered earl grey and lavender icing. Utterly delightful!

 Lily was its friend and it cared about her a lot. She was a very good listener and gave it hugs every time she saw it. She’d asked very politely too, she had much better manners than the rest of its friends and had asked if it minded at all if she hugged it a lot? It hadn’t minded at all, it loved to be included and Lily made an excellent companion in game-playing, story-telling and song-singing.

 She made it feel even more real and a big part of everything. It was very pleased about that. It liked Lily a great a deal and was always happy to spend time in her company.

 It carefully went through all the different cutlery on the table and what they were used for, Lily liked listening to the Toy Soldier talk even though half of what it said sailed over her head, it was so enthusiastic and friendly no matter what it was doing or what was happening. It was nice and made her feel that everything was alright. You couldn’t talk like that or care about little forks and spoons when your ship was being raided.

 It made her feel safe whenever she listened to it. That the world was only a pot of tea, tiny cakes and neat cucumber sandwiches away from being alright again. She loved making up new and fancier cake recipes for their tea parties. She was so proud of herself when she managed to pour the perfect cup of tea for TS using its special fancy pots it called a ‘service’, pouring the milk in first because the fancy cup was made out of something called ‘bone china’ and pouring hot tea into it from the pot would damage it if it went in first. Then she stirred it carefully and picked up two little sugar lumps with tiny silver tongs and stirred the tea again before handing it to TS. It drank it in it’s own way and declared it was the best cup of tea it had ever been given and it had drunk a lot of tea.

 Lily had glowed with the praise and set to enjoying her own cup beaming throughout the rest of their tea party.

 It didn’t take long for Lily to climb onto its lap for a cuddle because maybe she was a bit scared after all and TS was solid and strong and safe. She could always tell herself it was because she wanted a better look at the assembly arranged on the table. It was even sort of true.

 TS wrapped a supportive wooden arm around her and carried on happily, enjoying having company, Lily was a very good listener and it liked being cuddled. Lily was very good at cuddling, it made TS feel special and as included as everyone else. It carried on explaining the different scenarios in which a salad fork maybe used.

 Lily was just beginning to settle when she got an idea that demanded attention, she voiced it immediately, “These look like the military units Tim was talking about who have different weapons, if these were different war people, what would they do?”

 The Toy Soldier glowed with excitement, very much liking this idea having had it before. Now it could show someone who appreciated its attention to detail!

 “I Can Show You!”

 It was another two hours before Lily was nearly sleep-walked back to bed then gently picked up and carried carefully the rest of the way and tucked in by a very happy Toy Soldier who hadn’t had quite so much fun in a jolly long time.

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

 That morning when Lily casually swapped the fish knife in Jonny’s hand for a butter knife when he reached to slather pancakes she’d made he looked very confused. When she explained it was the wrong knife he looked disgusted. He zeroed in on the Toy Soldier who was happily sipping tea from a china cup and saucer.

 “You!”

 The rest of the group froze. Jonny’s patience with TS was legendarily short, it was miracle he hadn’t shot it yet. Several of them braced to haul Lily out of the way whilst the rest prepared to yell at Jonny for the next few hours.  

 “What Ho Old Chap! These Pancake Are Jolly Delightful What?!”

 “Have you been teaching Lily etiquette?!” He spat, incandescent at the idea it had been filling her head with complete nonsense.

 It was utterly un-phased in the face of Jonny’s fury, “Of Course! It’s An Important Thing For A Young Person To Know!”

 It took everything Jonny had not to blow its head off right then and there.

 “No it is isn’t! If Nastya, an actual princess doesn’t bother there is literally no point!”

 Nastya was about to argue back that he should mind his own goddamned business and maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing that their youngest crew member knew her way around a knife and fork unlike some unabashed heathens when another voice piped up.

 “Jonny! Don’t be cross!” Admonished Lily, looking utterly unimpressed, “TS taught me last night when I came to get some milk, it was fun! We turned them into fighters and we had a battle! General Tablespoon won because she lured Marshall Ladle into a trap in the valley of condiments and hit their teaspoon infantry with her flanks of fork knights!”

 All eyes that had focused on Lily flipped back to Jonny fascinated to see what he’d do, this was far too entertaining to ignore; breakfast was rarely so engaging.

 Without missing a beat and with the same level of intensity now missing the annoyance Jonny carried on with the new information, “Well, okay, were you advising General Tablespoon?”

 “Yes!”

 “Well good!” He blustered, “Excellent tactics!”

 Tim, deeply proud of Lily but also finding Jonny being put on the spot by their eight year old hilarious nearly ruptured something with Marius and Ashes not far behind. The whole table was laughing within seconds, and after a moment Jonny included. He couldn’t be annoyed that Lily had found a way to play and enjoy herself when she’d clearly been woken up by another bad dream, there was no other reason as to why she’d be up with TS late at night. He was still going to shoot the Toy Soldier when he next got the chance but he was pleased it at least had done a half decent job looking after her.

 Maybe it would get a pass.

 Just this once.  

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Pain Is So Close To Pleasure (modern!Queen x platonic!reader) - Chapter 2

Summary: As a recently promoted Soloist for the Royal Ballet, you move closer to Covent Garden with your three-year-old daughter, Rose. But your new neighbour turns out to be the last person you'd expect to pop up on your doorstep.

A/N: This chapter, but really this whole fic, has such a specific vibe and I love it?? Like I can relate to a lot of the things I describe, and I don’t know if that’s a me thing, or a British thing, or just a thing. Anyways I’m here for it. And if you’re not British and don’t relate to this fic in the way I do, and you’ve wondered what it’s like to live in Britain, this might give you a rough idea.

The chapter count for this crept up again because I’ve had about two or three more ideas for this. I think now would be a good time to mention that I’m treating this as more of a load of one-shots set in the same verse, rather than a story with a plot. That’s why it will start to seem more like a series of vignettes, not as a storyline.

As always, I hope you’re all doing okay with everything that’s going on, and I hope to have another update for you all soon. I hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): swearing

Word Count: 3.3k+

Inspiration: Incandescent by @immistermercury on AO3, Outed by @platawnic on Tumblr, Rock Angel by @mirkwoodshewolf on Tumblr, Brian’s Instagram, Modern Times Rock ‘N’ Roll by @rhapso-kei on Tumblr and AO3, this silly lockdown business, the fact that I should have gone to see Queen over two weeks ago but it’s fine

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26

Series Taglist: @banana-tree-freddiemercury @lillycarlyn (darling you didn’t say which taglist so if you want me to put you on the perm one then let me know)

Ask to be on either! Make sure to specify!

You popped your head round the door to the studio and smiled to yourself when you found it void of people. You switched the lights on, the charcoal-grey clouds outside casting a darkness over the Opera House; uncharacteristic for midday, but then it was London, and it was February. You couldn’t expect too much from good old British weather.

It wasn’t often that you had the opportunity of having a studio all to yourself, so when you did, you simply had to make the most of it. The way your timetable for the day had worked out meant that you had a longer lunch break than everyone else, not by much, but fifteen minutes was more than enough time to go over a routine you’d crafted yourself. So, seeing as you could afford to eat later on, and everyone else was either in the canteen or some café in Covent Garden, you decided to book one of the studios for your own use.

You connected your phone to the mostly unused speaker in the corner of the room and quickly found the song. Time was of the essence here, and you were most conscious of that. You lightly ran to the centre of the room, making sure you weren’t facing the wall-length mirror for watching yourself dance made you rather self-conscious, replacing passion with technicality. This dance was your own, you had created it, cradled it, held it oh-so-close to your heart; unlike anything you’d ever done professionally, this dance was all about the enthusiasm and the love with which you danced.

Freddie’s voice rang out through the studio, clear as day and filling each and every particle with the richness of his voice. The singular note was soon accompanied by harmonies and then the familiar piano motif of Somebody To Love. You smiled despite yourself as you began the routine.

You promised yourself that one day you’d perform this to someone, even if it was just Rose. But that day was a long way off yet.

The way you danced was unlike how you had ever done so on stage. You performed with a vivacity that many dancers lost so early on in their careers when they valued the physical quality of their dancing over the raw emotion of it. You considered yourself quite lucky that you hadn’t yet surrendered to that particular temptation.

You considered this song to be a crescendo in and of itself, just building and building as its many layers unfolded. You’d made sure that this was reflected in the choreography. Each section was grander a more extravagant than the last. You quite liked the simultaneous challenge and familiarity of it; it made for a good dance to return to when you found your head overflowing with your thoughts and anxieties. You made more and more use of the space as the song progressed, like you were contained by an invisible circle that gradually grew.

When the third verse came around, and Freddie’s voice temporarily faded into silence, fooling the nonchalant listener into thinking it was the end, you had a second to pause. You used it to inhale deeply before starting the fouettés that accompanied the acapella. One, then another, then another, more, more, more until you genuinely thought you were going to fall over. You persevered, however, pushing through all forty of the turns, and even though by the end you wanted nothing more than to lay on the ground and watch the world spin, you couldn’t stop yourself from beaming because holy shit you’d never done them all before. You shook off the feeling, allowing yourself to revel in it later; right now, you had the rest of the dance to get through.

You breezed through the rest of it, the highest jeté seeming insignificant compared to the dizzying hell you’d just put yourself through. When everything quietened down once again, and Freddie faded back into his falsetto, you came to a still in the centre of the ‘stage’, going up on pointe and gradually raising one leg into the air so that it was parallel to your upper body and then to your face. When the music kicked in again, you dropped it back down and returned to your original flow. With the last tiny piano chord of the song, you did a cheeky little jump with the biggest grin on your face, before curtseying to your non-existent audience.

Or so you thought.

A slow clap sounded from the doorway and you whirled round to look at the intruder, blushing furiously with the embarrassment of being seen without knowing. Your smile made a comeback, however, when you recognised the face.

“Wow, that really was something, (Y/N),” Brian whistled, “I’m impressed, truly.”

“Thank you,” you ducked your head, panting heavily. Your muscles screamed with exhaustion, and even though you wanted to just lay down and maybe have a nap, you stayed strong, refusing to appear rude to Brian.

Somehow, he seemed to read your mind, “You can sit down, you must be knackered. Don’t mind me.”

You smiled at him gratefully before sinking down in the corner of the studio next to your bag and grabbing your water bottle with desperation. You gestured to the spot next to you which he took gladly. “How much of that did you see?”

“Pretty much all of it,” he laughed, “I was about pop in for a chat but I saw you put the song on, and I thought I might as well watch.”

“Gosh,” you muttered, beginning to take off your pointe shoes to relieve your aching feet. You’d had back-to-back classes all morning and doing a routine such as that one after all of that just didn’t help.

“I didn’t know you guys danced to non-classical music,” he said.

You managed to get one shoe off, and you started on the other one, wrinkling your nose at the quite frankly disgusting smell that Brian was politely showing no reaction to, “We don’t. Well, I haven’t heard of it anyway. Even if people did somewhere, it would be an awfully long time before the Royal started doing it.”

He shot you a confused look, “Then how…”

“It’s my dance. I choreographed it a while back,” you shrugged, not really understanding what the big deal was, “That’s probably the best run I’ve done of it.”

“Wow, I,” he ran a hand through his hair, “That looked like something from an actual ballet.”

You ducked your head again with the kind of embarrassed pride that comes with compliments, “Thanks, Brian, that means a lot. I only made it a while ago. I,” you laughed self-deprecatingly before saying, “I’d just done quite possibly the worst audition of my life, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how shit it was. So, I just freestyled to some of my favourite songs and that happened.”

“You just made that up?” he asked incredulously.

“It wasn’t nearly as good as it was just then. I’ve been working on it for months until it became what you just watched. It’s been my little side project,” you mused, shoving your phone and both of your pointe shoes into your ballet bag. You poked your head up and peered through the huge window on the opposite wall, cringing at the heavy rain and how that wasn’t a good mix with the non-waterproof trainers you were now putting on, “Oh, shit, I thought it wasn’t going to rain until later. I don’t think I packed my umbrella,” you said, forgetting about your shoes for a second and rifling through your bag.

Brian placed a hand on your arm, “Relax, I have one, we’ll just have to share, if that’s alright with you?”

“Thanks,” you looked at him gratefully before returning to doing your laces.

“Where are you going anyway? You haven’t finished work already, have you?”

“Oh, I wish,” you laughed sadly. You did love your job, but today was just one of those days where you had no energy and just wanted to cuddle up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a box of Quality Street chocolates all to yourself and binge watch Miranda on Netflix. “No, I didn’t bring any lunch with me, so I thought I’d have a look and see which cafes have free tables. You’re more than welcome to join me if you want.”

About five minutes later, you found yourself running through Covent Garden Market while it was hammering it down with rain, sharing an umbrella with Brian that was way too small for the both of you. You were trying your hardest not to slip on the shining cobblestones beneath your feet, while also trying not to knock into any other pedestrians who, like you, were also running for cover. It wasn’t long until you reached your destination, a café that was a favourite haunt of yourself and Rose. It served at Rose’s Friday treat after she had finished preschool for the day, when the weather wasn’t too good and you couldn’t go to the playground in St James’s Park. You also frequented it on bank holiday weekends or half-terms where you’d been in the flat for three days straight and were in desperate need of some fresh air but had absolutely nothing to do.

You held the door open for Brian, hearing the little bell ring when it came into contact with the door, and you grabbed the umbrella from him as he entered. You shook it rather aggressively outside and popped it into the bucket next to you, filled to the brim with the umbrella of fellow patrons who unluckily got caught in the rain and had dived into the nearest establishment for sanctuary. You made your way to the only free table left while Brian queued up to order your food and drinks.

This wasn’t actually the first time you two had done this, though it was the third. The first time had been rather awkward, as from the second you put your shoes on to leave to the second you said goodbye, you were both repeatedly stopped by people wanting to talk to Brian. And even though neither of you ever complained, you had later admitted to each other that you had found it rather annoying. The second time wasn’t as bad, though at one point you had been stopped by a guy from some tabloid you’d never heard of asking for an interview. Much to your amusement, and Brian’s embarrassment, the guy had actually been looking to talk to you instead of him. You’d politely declined, offering to do it another time, but as soon as you’d sat down to eat, you teased Brian mercilessly about it, and still did every now and then. All it took was for you to say Brian look I’m more famous than you for him to blush furiously and ask you to please change the subject. Considering this was the third time now, the initial shock of oh my God I’m just casually having lunch with Brian May this is fine had passed. Now it was merely having lunch with a friend. Just that that friend just so happened to be an international icon. No big deal.

You looked up to see Brian making his way over to you, carrying a tray of food, and you smiled when you noticed that he’d remembered from last time when you’d told him what, in your opinion, was the best food this particular café had to offer. He sat down opposite you and plonked the tray down on the table, as you both started to work out who’s food and drink was who’s.

“How’s work been this week?” he opened up the conversation as he stirred his latte that had fake milk in it because I don’t know if their milk is locally sourced, (Y/N)!

“Not too bad, actually,” you said, taking a sip of your own drink and cringing when it scalded your tongue, “We’re just in our last week of rehearsals for The Winter’s Tale right now. Someone got injured on Tuesday, and our first performance is next Tuesday, so that’s not exactly ideal. But we’ll get through it, it’ll be fine, I’m sure,” you shrugged. The show must go on, you supposed. Pun not intended.

“Listen, (Y/N),” he started, his more serious tone intriguing you already, “I need to talk to you about something.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay…” You weren’t all too sure where he was going with this, and it was impossible to tell if the news he was about to impart was good or bad.

“I know this is very sudden, and there’s no guarantee that this will even happen, but I thought I’d ask you first,” he rambled for a moment.

“What, what are you on about?” you laughed impatiently.

He took a deep breath and said, “I have a business proposition for you.”

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

The after-school pick-me-up was carnage at the best of times, let alone on a Friday which also just so happened to be the last day of half-term. Parents crowding around the doorway, desperate to reunite with their child and careless of who they had to shove out of their way in order to reach them. Children spilled out of the school, arms full of lunch boxes and month-old paintings that were meant to be rainbows and dragons but resembled something similar to an oil spill. Teachers waved goodbye with the odd word to the overly concerned parent, not-so-secretly relieved that their week off was edging closer, and hurrying everyone off because the sooner they left, the sooner half-term started. Something which parents had very split feelings over.

Not for you, however. You were more than happy to get Rose to yourself for the week, finding the flat way too still and silent and void of a child’s laughter for you to find remotely comfortable. And even though half-term would always mean a busy show week for you due to the sheer amount of families desperately needing something to do, you were still grateful for the time you got together. That may or may not be because you had spent the far majority of your adult life being a parent, but you weren’t complaining.

As per usual, you heard Rose’s shout long before you saw her face, but you decided that you wouldn’t have it any other way when you saw her run straight towards, “Mummy!”

You crouched down and hugged her tightly when she collided into your arms, almost overbalancing from the sheer force of it, “Hello, darling, did you have a good day?”

She pulled away and grinned at you, “Yeah! We had a dance party and we played games and we played musical chairs and I won and I got some chocolate!”

“Oh, wow, that’s really good Rose, well done you,” you bopped her nose and turned to the things she was holding, “What’s all this?”

She thrust a piece of sugar paper under your nose, “I did a glitter painting yesterday and it’s dry now! It has every colour in the whole world!”

You took it from her and looked at it, pretending to inspect it like a pretentious artist and putting on the poshest voice possible, “Well, I do think it’s rather splendid, if I do say so myself. Absolutely spiffing.”

She dissolved into giggles, “Mummy, you’re silly.”

You gasped in mock offence as you took her hand and started to lead her out of the crowd, “Excuse me, I’m not silly! I’m a very serious grown-up, don’t you know?”

“I don’t want to be a grown-up! Grown-ups are boring. I want to be little forever and ever and ever.”

“I’m a grown-up, do you think I’m boring?” you asked.

“Only sometimes,” she said very seriously, “Only when you talk about boring grown-up stuff.”

You chuckled slightly, “What about Rog and Bri? Are they boring?”

She laughed again as if you’d just said the funniest thing she’d heard all day, “No! They’re fun because they give me ice cream and they think of really good games,” she paused for a second, “Mummy, are we going to the park today?”

“Well, it is Friday so if you want to go then we’ll go. It is a very sunny day today,” you said, frowning when you noticed Rose’s face, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

She pouted as if deep in thought, “I don’t think I want to go today.”

“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t want to, darling. It’s half-term next week so we can always go another day,” you assured her, “Why don’t you want to go?”

“I feel a bit tired,” she said sheepishly, “I don’t want to fall asleep on the swings and fall off!”

“Oh, baby,” you said, heart swelling with the simultaneous silliness and adorableness of her logic, “I’d catch you before you fall, don’t worry. But we can go home if you want. We’ll find something else for your Friday treat.”

Her eyes lit up, “Can we have cookies? The nice ones with the big chocolate bits?”

“Good idea, darling, we can have cookies,” you did a quick mental run-through of what your biscuit tin was looking like at the moment and said, “I don’t think we have any of those ones at home so we’ll stop off at the bakery on the way home.”

“Yay!” she squealed before singing, “We’re having cookies! We’re having cookies!”

Rose spent the entire journey home singing that song, and even though you wanted nothing more than to never hear that tune again, you wouldn’t dare burst her bubble of joy. Besides, you didn’t think you could tell her to stop if you tried; she really was that cute. Or maybe you just told yourself that, so you didn’t feel like a terrible parent. You guessed you would never know. At least the lady who worked at the bakery found it endearing that a child could be that excited for something as relatively simple as cookies.

By the time you’d shoved the key in the door and the two of you had spilled into your flat, it was around half past four and Rose was positively exhausted, despite her best attempts to look and sound awake. You’d decided to have the cookies with some milk you’d warm up once you’d sorted out Rose’s stuff and gotten her changed from her long day at preschool. Then you just supposed you’d have some cuddles, and, with any luck, she’d fall asleep because the poor girl really needed it.

You put the radio on in the background before snuggling down on the sofa with her comfortably in your lap and your favourite honey-golden blanket draped over the both of you.

“I love you, Mummy,” she murmured against your chest before nibbling on the cookie that was bigger than her hand.

“I love you too, baby,” you said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and feeling her snuggle in more, as if that was even possible. You suddenly remembered your lunch with Brian, and the news you needed to impart, “I had lunch with Bri today,” you started, feeling her nod and carrying on, “He had a very cool idea, darling.”

“What was it?” she whispered, large, curious eyes looking up at you.

“He asked me if I wanted to work on a film, and I said yes,” you smiled, watching her face light up with the muted excitement that was usually paired with some element of confusion.

“A film? Is it a big film? Like Tangled?” she asked, suddenly much livelier than before.

“Yes, sweetheart, a bit like Tangled, except there’s going to be real people in it instead of animated people,” you explained.

“What’s the film about?” she was getting more curious by the second and it just made your heart leap with pride.

“It’s about the band that Rog and Bri are in, darling. It’s the story of how they got famous,” you grinned.

“Who are you in it?”

“Ooooooh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that yet, I’ve got to keep it a secret,” you said judiciously, smiling when she pouted at you, “I’ll tell you another day, sweetheart, don’t you worry.”

“Promise?” she asked hopefully.

You brought her into a hug again and whispered, “Promise.”

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 30 ~Vows~

Brian escorted Claire down the stairs from the little room to the small hallway of the chapel. The day was mild and clear, and sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows. It was a perfect day for a wedding. The arched doorframe in the foyer was threaded with forget-me-nots and lily-of-the-valley and the air smelled of fresh flowers after a spring rain. The strains of  Somewhere Over the Rainbow  played on the piano and cello, and the soft murmurs of the wedding guests drifted to where they were stood. For a moment, Claire closed her eyes and sought a distant memory.

"Did yer ma and da have a big fancy wedding like aunt Jocasta?" a thirteen-year-old Jamie asked Claire. 

They were sat under a tree sharing a plate of cake, away from the rest of the wedding guests. Ellen's sister had just married her second husband. It was a garden wedding party complete with an eight-piece band, a professional caterer and a wedding planner orchestrating the sumptuous and stylish event.

Pushing her specs up on the bridge of her nose, Claire looked at Jamie thoughtfully. "Uncle Lamb told me they were married in the registry office. He said it was a quick and simple ceremony. My ma didn't even have a wedding dress."

Jamie forked the last piece of cake and offered it to her, and when she shook her head, he ate the remaining morsel. "Hmmm, our ma and da eloped, so they didn't have a fancy wedding either."

She sighed. "I know. One day, when I get married, I would like to wear a pretty white dress and look like a princess. And of course, there would be lots and lots of pretty flowers and three different flavoured cakes. And I want my husband to be my best friend, someone who is not too bothered about my braces."

"Braces or no', ye'd make a pretty bride. And I'm yer best friend, which means ye can marry me."

Claire gasped. "Jamie! Don't be daft! We're like brother and sister, so we can't marry!"

"We're not really brother and sister, Sassenach!" Jamie countered defensively, a frown forming on his forehead. "Trust me, we'll be allowed to marry. Everyone has to marry eventually, so I might as well marry a girl who's not too squirmish about beasties and who likes things I like ... like sports and chips and dips and fishing."

Claire wrinkled her nose. "But beasties and sports are not really romantic. Romance is important in marriage. I know because I've seen it in movies. But before you marry someone, you need to do all the boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. Like going to the movies and sharing popcorn and moonlight strolls."

"Ye mean dates? Aye, of course, but first I would need to save money. All these dating palavers are pricey. Willie told me so," he explained, matter-of-factly as he stood up and offered her his hand. Once upright, he brushed some stray grass from her skirt and tap her on the nose. "I only have 200 quid in my stash, but by the time ye're allowed to go on dates, I should have more. Then I can take ye for icecream and buy ye those frosted lip gloss ye like. Just like on a date."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You're not saying that to be nice, are you?"

"Of course not. What a silly question!"

She twirled a curl in one finger and pondered some more, watching Jamie with interest as he pulled out a tissue from his pocket and wiped a smudge of buttercream from the corner of her mouth. "Alright, then. But you do know, while on a date, ye need to be gentlemanly. That's what women are supposed to like while on a date."

"Aye, of course, I need to work on that," he mumbled, stuffing the used tissue in his pocket and straightening her glasses. After inspecting her thoroughly, he smiled with satisfaction. "There ye go. Come on, let's go. Ma and da will be wondering what we're up to." After grabbing the plate from the ground, he took her hand and pulled her along toward the wedding party.

"And it's a boyfriend's job to take care of his girlfriend."

"Dinna fash, Sassenach, I will try my best to remember."

Brian's gentle pressure on her hand broke her reverie, and Claire turned to look at him. The serene joy in his demeanour calmed the flurry of emotions in her soul and grounded her. "So this is it," he smiled, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Thank you for being there every step of the way, da," she whispered.

"Nothing to thank me for, sweetheart. Ye are a blessing. I thank God every day ye came to our lives. I have had many profound and meaningful experiences in my life, but this moment ...to walk ye down the aisle is a gift I will always treasure and hold close to my heart. I am proud and thankful for the girl I raised to the woman you have become," he said, patting her hand.

"And I am proud to call you, my da."

Before she could catch her breath, Jenny snapped them to attention. "Right, lassies, showtime," Jenny chirped. She turned and cocked her head at her. "Claire bear?"

She nodded with a smile and took a deep breath.

Her bridesmaids were stood in their places, and the ushers waited for Jenny's signal.

As the double doors opened, the background music coming from the piano and cello faded away to be replaced with the soft melody of the song  A Thousand Years . Everyone hushed and turned towards the entrance, their cameras poised to capture the moment. One by one, her bridesmaids made their way to the altar, looking graceful and ethereal in their chiffon dresses.

When it was their turn to walk down the aisle, the music ceased, and the sound of a bagpipe echoed the traditional Highland Wedding March, heralding their presence. Everyone stood and held their breaths. The priest was at the front of the altar, clutching the bible in his hands. Flowers were scattered on the runner and adorned the pews. The benches were filled with friends and families, radiating love and awe, and murmuring praises at the sheer beauty of it all.

Claire's tears threatened to spill, and her heart squeezed as the outpouring of love came in waves. It was everything she had envisioned her wedding to be and much, much more. And for a moment, time stood still, and it felt like she was reliving every second she had ever shared with the Fraser family. And that was when she sensed the presence of her parents. She recognised it from the depths of her soul and in her heart, as they began walking down the aisle. The feeling was like being wrapped in a divine cloak, as comfort, happiness, warmth and peace enveloped her. She bowed her head in silent acknowledgement and prayer.  Thank you, mum and dad.

When she finally looked up, Jamie's eyes held hers, and everything else became a blur. From thereon, all thoughts were suspended, and all consciousness of her surrounding dissolved. Her sole focus centred on Jamie. Ignoring the ribbing from his older brother, his face broke into a radiant smile, and he placed a hand over his heart. The simple gesture took her breath away, and the tenderness and adoration on his handsome face bestowed her the realisation he was just as overwhelmed. 

Dressed like Brian and Willie in a traditional Clan Fraser tartan and formal jacket, he was a vision to behold. The added plaid placed over one shoulder, secured with a brooch only emphasised his massive breadth and staggering height. The sunlight that streamed through the windows created a halo with his unruly coppery locks, and his clean-shaven face made him look like an angel.

As if caught in slow motion, she watched him step forward, feasting at the beautiful figure he presented. She loved the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, the full sensual curve of his lips and the masculine gracefulness when he moved despite the evident limp. Knowing he truly belonged to her, fulfilled her in a way she had never experienced before and she would take each moment of their time together as a precious gift, never to be taken for granted.

Then he was stood before them, resplendent and striking in his Highland garb.

Brian spoke first. 

"My lad, I present to ye, yer bride." Ignoring the formality and custom of a simple handshake, Brian released Claire to hug his son. After a few heartwarming seconds, he pulled away and placed both his hands on Jamie's shoulders and looked at him with emotional intensity. "The day ye asked me for Claire's hand in marriage was the day I finally stopped worrying about who will look after her when I no longer can." Choked with emotion, he kissed Claire on the cheek before taking her hand and placing it over Jamie's. "It's worth bearing in mind that neither of ye will ever be perfect, but together, ye are perfect. Go with God, the both of ye." Then he stepped back to join his teary wife on the bench.

Claire smiled and mouthed  I love you  to Ellen before refocusing her attention to Jamie. She gazed at him for a while, committing to memory the look on his face. Oblivious to the people around them, she reached out to touch him, but he took her hand and whispered in her ears. "Ye look beautiful, Sassenach but then again, ye are always beautiful in every way. And there doesn't exist a part of you which I don't love. And I want ye to know I'll never forget this day." 

"Neither will I, Jamie."

His lips tugged in the corner. "Come now, let's make an honest woman out of ye," he teased, tucking her hand into his arm and guiding her to the altar.

Although it's a known fact that Catholic wedding ceremonies tend to be lengthy, the nuptial mass flew by in a haze, and Claire felt like she was floating in a dream world. The only thing that kept her rooted to that moment was Jamie's hand firmly holding hers. When it was his turn to recite his vows, everything suddenly became clear and sharp. Every nuance, movement, expression and word was carefully stored in her memory vault to treasure forever.

She watched him take out a piece of paper from his sporran with trembling hands. It had been folded numerous times until it was just a mere bundle. Carefully, he unfolded his written vows and stared at it for the longest time. It seemed he was having difficulty reading it. Taking a peek at the paper he held, she knew it was written with great care and thoroughness for he loathed writing with his hand.

Feeling his struggle, she wanted to reassure him that it was alright if he couldn't recite his vows. She understood how weddings could get emotional, and with so many eyes watching, nerves could go awry. 

Suddenly, to her surprise, he stuffed the paper back into his sporran and looked up. "Ah bugger it, I'm just going to wing it," he announced. His ears turned pink when everyone laughed. Swiftly remembering where he was, he turned to the priest, looking contrite. "Apologies, father ...I guess I'm a wee bit nervous."

The priest nodded in understanding and gestured for him to carry on.

Taking a step forward, Jamie took her hand in his and gazed into her eyes, allowing her to see every emotion and every feeling he had no words for. "Sassenach, I'm just going to speak from the heart. Painful as it is to admit, I cannae read my own handwriting." He paused for a bit when everyone laughed once more. Clearing his throat, he continued. "I wish I could promise ye the world because I ken ye deserve it. Unfortunately, the world isn't mine to give. But I do promise ye my world and everything in it. It may not be much, but all that I am and all that I have is yers. I wish I could promise smooth sailing, but as ma said, marriage is a lot of hard work, and there will be sacrifices and trials along the way. But what I do promise is to stand by ye and uplift ye, so that we can accomplish more than we could alone and weather the storm together. I wish I could give ye riches and deck ye in jewels, but there's no certainty I will be a rich man one day. What I do promise is a life of abundance, an abundance of my love and support. I can't even promise I'll never hurt ye because even the best of intentions sometimes fall short. What I do promise is to always reach for ye over my pride. Above all, I promise to love ye fiercely in all of your forms, now and forever. And to always know in the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might tear us apart, we will always find our way back to each other."

After Jamie's impassioned speech, there was not a dry eye in the house, and she couldn't care less about ruining her make up. His words and his vows lit up the inner recesses of the soul, touching her heart, knowing full well, the man who stood before her meant every word he uttered. There was a sense of homecoming and completion, but at the same time, a new beginning as he slid the ring over her finger. For a moment, she thought she imagined a stirring in her belly. It was as if their unborn child was celebrating in the blessing of their union. And soon, not long after, they were declared husband and wife to the cheers of their family and friends.

..........

The reception was held in a small spa resort overlooking a lake and spread out over acres of property in rustic beauty. Winding paths encircled the area, and the fields were clothed in colourful wildflowers. The weather held out and the dying sun drenched the fields in golden light and flickering warmth.

The entire wedding was a dream come true, and in such a short time, everyone was able to pull all the stops to make their wedding day possible. Every small detail was a contribution from family and friends, making it all the more special and personal. Not once did she have to worry about any aspect of their wedding, with everyone taking over and impressing upon her that stress could be harmful to her baby. 

Midnight drew close, and the DJ announced the last dance. Everyone crammed onto the floor for one final celebration. Exhausted but happy, Claire headed towards the cake display instead.

A warm hand encircled her wrist. She turned and found Jamie staring down at her, his eyes the hues of ocean and sky, gleaming with intensity and mild intoxication. "Dance with me, Sassenach," he said in a low voice. "I ken ye're tired, but after our first dance earlier, I hardly had a chance to be alone with ye."

She smiled and let him lead her out to the dancefloor. Sighing with contentment, she went into his arms and nestled her head against his shoulders. They swayed to the slow strains as they pressed closer together. His breath warmed her cheeks as she inhaled his scent of aftershave, citrus and expensive whisky. A hand caressed her back, sending a tingly pleasure to spread all over her body.

"Thank ye, Sassenach," he whispered against her ears.

Startled, she looked up, and her eyes widened. "For what?"

He smiled. "For making me the happiest man alive. For our baby. For being patient with me. For being ye."

She softened against him, and a sigh escaped from her lips. "Smooth talker," she said teasingly. "Kidding aside, I am one very, very happy bride, thanks to you." Her finger traced a circle on his chest. "And, that speech today was quite impressive. Who would've thought, after all these years I've known you, you are still capable of surprising me? What other secret talents do you have hiding up your sleeves?"

His laugh rumbled from his chest. "Ach, Sassenach, at least I know I can still surprise ye. But I won't reveal all my secrets just yet. I need to keep ye on your toes."

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, is that so? Well, I have a few of my own I will not be revealing too soon either. Maybe make you work for the gold, right?"

"Dinna mind working hard for the gold but we have a lifetime of discovery ahead of us." He then lowered his voice. "And it starts tonight."

Her heart jumped, and suddenly she was caught up in the promise of his arms holding her close. Before she could dwell further, the slow rhythm of the song built, morphing into a blaring dance that belted out the lyrics that everyone knew by heart.

With a wink, Jamie spun her out of his arms and fell into the steps of a fast dance. He twirled her around the floor with grace, strength and humour, and the rest of the party threw themselves into the music and enjoyed the final pounding beat. Their family and friends surrounded them, stomping their feet and pumping their hands in the air and Claire revelled with laughter at the enthusiastic celebration of love.

It was a good hour before everyone finally left the reception, save for the family. Sliding off her shoes, she sat wearily on a chair. She was joined by Jenny, Geillis, Ian and Willie, each holding a drink. Jamie, Brian and Ellen headed outside saying a few goodbyes to leftover guests, who spoke of moving the party over to the bar.

"Oh, my God! I can't believe ye're married!" Jenny squealed.

"Weel, they were as good as a married couple living together," Geillis chuckled. "Jamie practically lived in the house." 

Laughing, Claire took their hands and squeezed them affectionately. "I can't believe I'm married either. Everything was perfect. Everyone made it perfect," she sighed. "I can't tell you how many people have been coming up to me asking who my wedding planner was. They all said they've never seen a wedding so beautiful. They couldn't believe it when I said everyone in the family was the wedding planner."

Willie slapped Ian on the back. "Ye're up next buddy," he grinned cheekily. "Cannae wait for the next stag party."

Jenny let out a breath. "Ye mean, ye cannae wait to have a stripper party."

"Ha! The stripper was Rupert's idea, and our party wasn't as wild as the hens'. Mind, we were all there and saw all of ye shouting at Jamie to strip." Ian said in defence.

All of them laughed. "Oh, it was a wild night, alright," Claire said. "I was the only one who recognised Jamie in his stripper costume. All my hens were too wasted. They all had their beer goggles on."

Geillis groaned. "That was bloody embarrassing ordering Jamie to strip, but let's not talk about that night. Let's talk about today. The wedding was perfection and mind ye, I've been to a lot of fancy weddings but today was so dreamy and romantic."

Claire's eyes welled up. Ever since she became pregnant, she was such a harvest of emotions. "There was so much love from everyone. And everyone's contribution just made it all so special. I have no words," she sniffed.

Jamie's voice rang out. "Uh-oh, here we go. I hope those are happy tears." Jamie pulled Claire from her chair, sat down and settled her on his lap before giving her a noisy kiss on the cheek. "Tired?"

Claire nodded, smiling as she laid her head at the crook of his neck.

Brian and Ellen joined them, holding hands together. "Right, kids we're off. We're getting too old for this. Some of the guests are at the bar, and Murtagh is just about to demonstrate the Highland fling," Brian announced, rocking on his heels. It was quite obvious he had quite a bit to drink. And then he turned to Ellen. "I hope ye remember our room number."

Ellen held up the keys in her hand. "Of course, darling." And then she looked at all of them. "See ye all at the brunch tomorrow. I'll probably check up on the hotel first so I might be a tad late."

Geillis looked at Brian and Ellen thoughtfully. "How do ye do it?" she burst out.

Brian cocked his head. "Do what?"

"Everything!" Geillis replied. "How do ye stay in love while running a hotel and raising kids and stress and life and family? What's the secret?"

Silence fell over the group. Claire sat up on Jamie's lap, Ian rested his chin on Jenny's head, and Willie wrapped his arms around Geillis, all waiting earnestly for the older Frasers' answer.

Ellen looked up at her husband. "Should we tell them the big secret to lifetime bliss?"

Brian grinned. "Aye, why not."

The group held their breath.

Ellen snorted out a laugh. "Sorry to disappoint but there's nae secret. It's a lot of hard work and patience."

"And fights. Lots and lots of arguments. And wrong choices," Brian chuckled as he pulled his wife against him.

"And lots of tears," Ellen added.

"But in the end, it's all worth it," Brian pointed out.

Ellen took her husband's hand in hers. "Dinna fash, ye'll figure it out. Because we did. Come on, darling, let's go."

Then the couple left, leaving them to stare at their retreating figures.

Claire sighed. "Surely, they know the big secret. Why don't they just tell us the real truth?"

There was a lapse of silence before everyone burst into hysterical laughter.

Jenny wiped the tears from her face. "Ma and da are right. There is no big secret. Marriage is a lifetime of many steep learning curves. The best thing ye can do is, hang on tight and enjoy the ride."

"Dinna fash, Sassenach. We already know. And I'm going to make sure we never forget," Jamie said, kissing his new wife. "As long as we have each other, we'll be fine. Come on, let's get ye to bed."

Claire slid her arms around his neck. For a moment, they were lost in each other, alone. Just bride and groom with a brand new life stretching ahead of them. They didn't even notice as the rest of the group left.

And then they kissed for a long time, oblivious to the staffs bustling around them.

..........

Jamie scooped up his new wife into his arms and walked into their bridal suite. He laughed as she squirmed in his arms. "Jamie! I've gained weight. I don't want to be the reason for your back giving way."

He gently put her down in front of the four-poster bed. "Ye're light as a feather, Sassenach. I can carry three times yer size without breaking a sweat." He unbuttoned his shirt and unfastened his sporran, placing them neatly on the armchair.

"Show off!" Momentarily forgetting about his back, her eyes were drawn to the new surrounding. "Oh, what a beautiful room!" she gushed. She bounced twice on the bed to test the firmness of the mattress and giggled. "This room must have cost a fortune." Then she stood up and walked over to the table ladened with a bucket of chilled champagne, a bowl of chocolate-coated strawberries and a vase of wildflowers. "It's a shame I can't drink at my own party."

"It's non-alcoholic fizzy wine, Sassenach." He stood behind her and unclasped her pearl necklace and unpinned her hair, placing the accessories on the table. Then carefully, he unzipped her dress, letting it pool at her feet. "Do you want a glass?"

"Mmm, yes, please." Taking a piece of strawberry with her, she walked away from him in her undergarments to examine the bathroom. "The bathtub is huge enough for ten people," she informed him excitedly.

"Good, then we can take a bath together." Jamie watched her in amusement as she went to explore the living area, complete with television, minibar and an ornate study desk. Quickly, he took the rest of his clothes off and poured the non-alcoholic beverage into the flute glasses. When she came back, her eyes widened, and her skin flushed in awareness as her gaze roamed over his naked body. "Come here," he commanded softly, grinning wickedly at her.

A smile touched her lips as her eyes settled on his erection. "And here I thought you were going to recite poetry on our wedding night."

He laughed low as he watched her openly stare at him. He was delighted at her new confidence even though he knew he could still make her blush. "I think I've created a tease. Ye're torturing me, Sassenach. Now come here and do as ye're told."

Claire's smile was slow and full of promise. Instead of obliging him, she reached back and unclasped her bra and dropped the material on the floor. His breath hitched when she hooked her fingers under the elastic of her panties, dragging the skimpy lace over her hips and thighs and kicking them away from her feet. "If you want me, you have to get me yourself, Mr Fraser," she teased, slowly backing away.

"If that's how ye want to play..." With one swift lunge, he caught her, carried her to bed and dropped her onto the quilt, making her squeal. Laughing, he placed one knee over the mattress and leaned over. His face suddenly turned serious, and he gently stroked her lips with his thumb, teasing the sensitive skin. He dragged in a breath as he gazed at her. "Christ, I'll never tire looking at ye. I can stare at yer face for hours."

She reached out and pulled his head towards her, kissing him with wild abandon. He smiled against her lips, thinking of the first time he taught her how to french kiss. "And I'll never tire of kissing you," she whispered.

He grasped both her wrists and held them above her head with one hand, kissing her deeply as her lips opened to the thrusting motion of his tongue. He cupped the weight of her breasts with the other hand, his thumb tracing a nipple. She arched upward as his mouth moved down her neck, and his knee slid between her legs and opened her for his more intimate touch. "I want ye now, Sassenach. I don't think I can hold on much longer," he muttered under his breath.

She pulled her hands away from his hold and clung to him, wrapping her legs around his hips. "Then take me now and don't be gentle about it."

He pulled away slightly, concern marring his face. "Will the baby be alright if I'm a bit rough?"

She laughed and urged him closer. "I don't think the baby will mind. Now shush and make love to me."

He moved over her and joined his body with hers. Gently at first, he rocked back and forth until her body adjusted to his cock. When she started to moan and flung her head sideways, he pulled back out and slammed inside of her so fast, she convulsed in pleasure against him.

She rode out the climax, whimpering deep in her throat, and hung on as he pounded inside her body until he cried out her name when he reached his peak, never stopping until there was nothing left of either of them.

Spent and exhausted, somehow he managed to roll over. He gathered Claire into his arms and spooned against her, his lips pressed at the nape of her neck. It didn't take long before she relaxed completely in his embrace and fell asleep.

Moonlight beamed through the open window creating shadowy patterns against her pale skin. Carefully, Jamie loosened his hold on her and got out of bed.

For a while, he watched her sleep with a deep peacefulness that made a smile touch his lips. She was curled in a fetal position, one hand tucked under her cheek and her long dark curls fanned out over the pillow. He heard her snore delicately, making him chuckle.

Turning away, Jamie walked to the window and observed the dots of light sprinkling the night skyline. Taking a deep breath, he said a silent prayer, for her and for their unborn child and thanked God for the blessing bestowed upon them on their wedding day.  

Their lives were on the brink of change, and he had never been more satisfied with his life. Being with Claire soothed his soul, and with her, he knew he would find the strength to face whatever life throws at them. She was his anchor, his home and his soulmate.

She stirred and murmured in her sleep. Turning away from the window, Jamie walked back to bed and slipped under the covers pulling her close against him. She responded immediately and snuggled closer.

"I love ye so much, Sassenach," he whispered in the dark.

"I love you too, hubby."

He smiled and closed his eyes and allowed sleep to gently embrace him until he was lured into a world of dreams of happily ever after.

   THE END

[izzy-b-hands]

Drop

Inspired by this gif made by the wonderful @tenderbri!

Brian and swimming pools, what is the attraction? He couldn’t tell you, and neither could anyone else. 

But they make good rewards, in terms of places to relax, after doing something heroic. 

Fair warning, this is...incredibly silly. But, I was struggling to focus on the other things I was trying to work on tonight, so I’m hoping this has cleared my brain a little. And silly as it is, I hope folks will enjoy it!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The sound of splashing had stopped being alarming to them, by now, even as the heads of everyone around them turned.

“Mr. May is in the pool?” asked the hotel worker helping them with their bags. “We...would you all rather go there first, then to your rooms?” 

“No, no,” Freddie assured him. “He’ll be back in a moment. See, there he comes.” 

They chuckled as he shook his hair out over the pool, slipped his clogs back on, and trotted back into the lobby through the back lounge area, dripping the whole way. 

“Wh-why...” the worker stammered. “Um.” 

“We’ve got it from here,” Roger said softly. “Thank you. Might want to grab a mop, for the flooring. Real hardwood, isn’t it?” 

“I...it’s laminate, maybe, I don’t...I’ll get a mop,” the worker mumbled a little bit sadly, and left them alone with the cart bearing their luggage.

“You absolutely befuddled the shit out of that poor young man,” Freddie said to Brian as he reached them. “I would ask what possessed you to do that, but I know-” 

“It just looks like fun,” Brian interrupted. “And no one was using it, so why not?” 

“Yet when we go down to the pool later,” John said. “You’ll end up reading in a lounge chair the entire time, won’t you?” 

Brian patted John’s face with a wet hand. “You do know my moods, don’t you?” 

John face stayed stagnant, but he sighed. “You are...so wet. And you simply had to touch me, didn’t you?” 

Brian shook his hair a bit again, and grinned. 

John scoffed and took over the cart, leading them into the elevator. “Can we please get to our rooms without any other interference or detours?” 

“I don’t know,” Roger replied, hissing as John pressed the button for the third floor. “You could start by sending us to the right floor.” 

“We’re on the second,” Freddie murmured. 

“We’re on the fourth,” Brian said. 

“That worker had the keys for our rooms...” John said quietly.

Then. A loud crash and clunk somewhere above them, and the elevator stopped moving. 

“Not fucking again,” Roger scoffed. 

“At least it wasn’t our fault this time?” Brian mused. “Not jumping about enough to break it.” 

“True, but,” Freddie sighed. “I really didn’t want to die in a lift with you all the first time, and I’d rather not now either. Nothing against any of you, of course.” 

“No, I get it,” Brian said. “I don’t think anyone intends to die in a lift.” 

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time to find the philosophical answer to that, don’t we?” Roger spat, and winced as he managed to sit on the floor of the elevator in what little room there was. “Fuck’s sake.” 

“Don’t pout,” John groused. “There’s a phone, help will be on the way shortly, you pompous little prince.” 

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you wanted to spend this tour in a lift,” Roger said sarcastically. “How do you intend to play, from here, John? Do tell me.” 

“Brian, could you drown him a bit the next time you go to the pool?” John asked cheerfully as he tapped at the pad of the phone, the panel door for it hanging open. 

“No one is drowning anyone,” Freddie said. “Honestly, I knew from the flight over we were all in the bitchiest moods, but really...” 

“I do want to go back to the pool though,” Brian remarked. “But no, I’m not going to drown Rog.”

“Thanks,” Roger grumbled. “How kind of you.” 

“Erm,” John said. “The phone doesn’t seem to work.” 

“That’s not funny,” Freddie smiled. “How long till they get to us?” 

“I’m not joking,” John said. “It’s dead.” 

“And so are we!” Roger crowed. “Fantastic.” 

“Children, please,” Freddie sighed. “There’s got to be something else we can do then. Ideas?” 

Three hands went up.

“Dying in this lift is not an acceptable suggestion.” 

Three hands went down. 

“I think I can reach the panel up top,” Brian said. “That’s interesting.” 

“I’m so glad you are delighted by this moment,” Roger scoffed. “I’m thinking about missing my family, and how sad they’ll be that I suffocated in a fucking lift!” 

“Rog,” Freddie soothed. “We’re not going to suffocate in here.” 

Roger nodded and sighed tersely. 

“If anything, the car might drop and kill us all that way,” Freddie continued, and Roger let out an angry shout. 

“I’m only thinking aloud, don’t fret!” Freddie protested. “Brian. I’ve had an idea.” 

But Brian, in their moment of conversation, had already popped open the upper panel, and was crawling through it. 

“Oh! We’re on the same page then,” Freddie said, looking up as Brian peered down at him from the open panel space. “You go get help, and we’ll focus on not dying.” 

Brian nodded. “You know if I wasn’t in a good mood, and wasn’t on a weird adrenaline rush from deciding to jump in the pool, I wouldn’t be doing this, right?” 

“Yes,” Freddie said, and turned to rifle through one of his suitcases. “Here. You’ll tear your hands up otherwise trying to get around the cables.” 

Brian reached down and took the leather gloves. The palm side of them had just a bit of extra grip on it, but it seemed like it might be enough to help. “Freddie, why do you have-” 

“Questions for later,” Freddie interrupted. “For now, help.” 

Brian nodded slowly. “Yeah. But you know I’m going to ask again-” 

“I know, I know,” Freddie interrupted again. “And we can get drunk poolside once we’re free, and then I’ll answer that for you. But we can’t do that if we never leave this lift.” 

“This is a terrible idea,” Brian muttered to himself as he took hold of one of the cables, and held on tight as he shimmied down it. The space near the side of the elevator box was incredibly slim, and he’d never been so glad to be as skinny as he was. 

The gloves helped, but they couldn’t soothe the aching that grew in his arms as he made his way down the elevator shaft, couldn’t pause the shaking of his thighs as he wrapped his legs around the cables. What courage he had at the start was rapidly draining away, and he was suddenly very aware of how far away the bottom of the shaft seemed. 

“Thank fucking god,” he muttered as he reached the doors to the first floor. “Now how the fuck do I make you open?” 

“Hello?!” a concerned voice called from the other side of the doors. “Mr. May? Is that you? It’s me, I was helping your bandmates before, and I’ve just finished mopping and...the elevator says it’s at the second floor. How are you here?” 

His arms were screaming, his hands starting to hurt despite the gloves. “Please open the doors!” 

“But...” 

“Open the fucking doors!” Brian spat, louder and more angrily than he meant it. But in fairness, he didn’t want to die by dropping to the bottom of an elevator shaft anymore than he’d wanted to die while trapped in the box of the elevator. 

The doors opened slowly, manually pried open, and the hotel worker greeted him with a face drained of color. “Oh...oh my lord...” 

“The rest of them are trapped on the second floor, or somewhere around there,” Brian said as he took one last bit of energy to push himself off the cable and onto the floor of the lobby. “I’m taking the stairs for the rest of our time here.” 

“Well, one flight is out of service due to maintenance,” the worker stammered. 

“Then I will scale the fucking building to avoid taking that elevator,” Brian sighed, exhausted. “Do you doubt me?” 

“I truly do not,” the worker replied. 

“Good. Now, when you free the rest of them, let them know where to find me,” Brian said as he stood up. He pondered the safety of Freddie’s gloves as he shoved them into the pockets of his jeans, then decided that he would buy him new ones if they got ruined with his next action. 

“The pool?” 

Brian nodded, and ignored everyone watching as he strode to the back area of the hotel, kicked off his clogs near the edge of it, and dropped into the pool like a weight. No ceremony, no care for his clothes, only the need to float on his back and relax for the next few hours. 

And when the rest of the lads finally arrived, grumbling about how long help had taken, not a word was said to him about his dripping all over them when he hugged them. As frustrated and irritated as they had all been with each other, he was incredibly glad (and he knew they were as well) that no one had been hurt in their little adventure. 

That they chose to spend the rest of the night there at the pool, at least partially to avoid having to even think about how to get up to their rooms (that were indeed on the fourth floor, he had been right), was not discussed either, and he found himself perfectly happy to stay in the pool, perhaps well on his way to becoming part fish. 

At least fish didn’t have to climb about, or fear dying in, lifts. 

[floralseokjin]

— crystallised 06 (m)

crystallised /ˈkrɪst(ə)lʌɪz/ (verb) make or become definite and clear 

Six weeks, that’s all it takes to forget about the threesome you shared with your boyfriend, Yoongi, and your past... fuck buddy, Seokjin. After all, it’s no big deal. Yoongi and you are doing better than ever, there’s no reason to regret such a night shared. That is until you hear some gossip in the library one day, and then slowly, little by little, everything starts to fall apart... Can you begin to make sense out of all this confusion, or is it too late? 

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; fluff, fluff and more fluff, smut in the form of dry humping, and did I already say fluff???? here, have some more  words; 10,481

sequel to; memoirs of a mistake and lostmyhead

chapters; 01 ⤑ 02 ⤑ 03 ⤑ 04 ⤑ 05 ⤑ 06 ⤑ 07⤑ 08 ✓

Seokjin ended up staying the night. It was inevitable really. You weren’t letting him go after you’d only just got him back. Not like he wasn’t dropping enough hints though. Could stay like this forever, he’d murmured hot in your ear, your body smushed to his as you lied down on the sofa, watching Netflix again. Some things, you realised, wouldn’t change and actually, it turned out Seokjin and you had already practically been acting as a couple anyway. It was just now he had his arms around your middle, hands woven together and his mouth on your neck. Lips too. Yeah, the kissing fest was still happening. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone a damn thing about what had happened in the last three episodes of The Vampire Diaries if they asked. 

Spend the night didn’t really have a question mark after it. It was Sunday anyway, neither of you had work and just the thought of doing nothing all day with Seokjin seemed like pure bliss. Your plan had been to call Lina tonight and gush about everything, but you guessed that could wait until tomorrow night. You’d just have to evade her messages until then, because keeping information like this from your best friend was killing you, but also, maybe you weren’t ready for the “Oh, my God, it was all down to ME,” I told you so’s… 

You got ready for bed in the bathroom one by one, almost giddy when Seokjin came out in just his t-shirt and boxers. Knees practically vibrating against one another as he got into bed next to you. His side. You were finally sharing your bed with him again, and then you were a tangle of limbs, his body glued into yours. His legs warm against yours, chest warm, body heat encasing you with the help of his arms. This was it. Pure bliss. How it was always supposed to be. 

In the safety of your bed, surrounded by darkness it was easy for even more confessions to slip from Seokjin’s lips. There were funny ones. Thoughts that slipped into his head. Like how he’d been unreasonably jealous of every guy who’d checked you out at the gym. How your ass had looked quote, “fricking delectable,” unquote, with a side helping of bum squeeze to go with. “Been wanting to do that forever,” he sighed in complete and utter content. You giggled, revelling in it really. How could you not. It wasn’t like you hadn’t ogled him while he was squatting or doing press ups… He was very happy when you let that slip… It was cute to fill in the missing gaps, but there were also unhappy confessions too. Ones that made your heart pang with sadness. 

Every time he’d pined for you. Not far from him, but still deeply out of reach. Like how he’d hated seeing you cry after your argument with Yoongi the night of that party. He was awkward and he didn’t know how to comfort you, but that was because he wanted nothing more than to tell you the truth. The truth about his feelings, and how he thought you should be with him not Yoongi. When he’d walked you home and you’d made to kiss him, (so he had realised) it took him everything not to give in. He knew you were upset, vulnerable and he didn’t want to take advantage of the moment. It wouldn’t be right, but the hug was the best sensation he’d felt in all his life. Then you’d turned up at his door after the breakup. Like some sign from the heavens above he was making a mistake with Jemma, and even if he could only have you as a friend, even if it hurt like crazy to hear you talk about Yoongi, it was okay. Because he had you in some kind of form. The best form. Just you. 

With your glassy eyes, you both began to reminisce into the early hours of the morning. Muffling your laughter at some points because it got too loud and your neighbours would hate you. 

“Was it just me, or when we went to watch Endgame did you get distracted remembering back to that time you gave me a hand job? It was the exact same screen room too.” He spoke into the darkness. Just when eyelids were getting heavy, legs still tangled together, your head on his chest.  

“Oh, my god.” 

“No. Not even in a perverted way. I thought of that as our unofficial first date for the longest time.” He was trying to be funny, but that was actually really cute. You’d held hands for the first time that night. You’d done so as a joke, teasing him. Actually, he’d been adamant it wasn’t a date, not a fan of your jesting. You understood why now. He was afraid you didn’t feel the same. 

“I remember we held hands as we walked back to your car.” 

“Mm. I liked that.” On cue you felt one of his hands find yours to slip them together, kissing the top of your head at the same time. You smiled to yourself. “Let me take you on an official first date.” 

“Where do you have in mind?” The smile was still on your face, could hear it in your voice. 

“Zoo.” He replied matter-of-factly. 

“Zoo?” 

“You pretty much stood me up last time.” Silence. The memory came back to you instantly.  “–annd you don’t remember…” His tone was light, playing with you, but nope, you wouldn’t have it. 

“No, wait!” You exclaimed, turning around in his arms to find his face. Your eyes had long adjusted to the dark, you could make out the greatly amused grin on his face easily. “I do remember! I just didn’t think you were serious.” 

You hadn’t actually figured out what he was trying to do when he’d asked you out back then. You’d been too distracted anyway… Too excited for your date with Yoongi… 

“So serious. So jealous. So sad.” That didn’t help either. He was messing around but it still made you feel all not good inside. 

“Seokjiinn.” You whined. 

He laughed, arms wrapping around your middle to squeeze you to him. “No, but I do really want to take you to the zoo on our first date.” He pecked your mouth, ridding the pout that had formed. “Let’s go Tuesday. We can skip class.” 

“Oh,” you cocked an eyebrow. “You’re making me skip classes already. You’re a bad influence Kim Seokjin.” 

“And what are you going to do about it?” He grinned, voice now a little croaky from lack of sleep. Sexy though. 

.

.

You both did manage to get a few hours sleep in the end. Voices were sleepy, conversation waning off and then eyes were closed. You woke up first. Your body clock didn’t seem to realise when it hadn’t had eight hours sleep. So here you were wide awake on five. Seokjin was still dead to the world though. Hooked around you like some sort of monkey. You wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, but you forgot the cost it came with. Excessive heat. Maybe you hadn’t woken up naturally… Anyway, somehow you wriggled free, Seokjin not even stirring as he rolled onto his back. You took a moment to study him. Cute in sleep, gigantic lips pouting naturally, forehead slightly creased, like he was dreaming of something serious. The events of the night before were truly sinking in. This was actually happening. You and him. 

You didn’t want to wake him just yet. No. You had a better idea. You were sure you had the right ingredients to make pancakes. First, a quick detour to the bathroom to empty your bladder and brush your teeth – hair too. You knew you looked this unkempt in the morning, but Seokjin wasn’t used to it anymore. Silly of course, like he gave a shit. You tried to keep as quiet as possible when you started finding and weighing ingredients, aware that there were basically only four walls in this open apartment, if you didn’t count the bathroom. Which was just about hiding Seokjin out of view, the jutting wall part of your kitchen storage. 

Distracted from mixing as you messaged with Lina back and forth, (she really did love bitching about this one coworker…), you nearly dropped your cell into the bowl when you read what she came out with next. 

Lina (9:58am)  So are we just gonna ignore the fact u probably fucked Seokjin last night? MAYBE you’re doing it right now  Sorry my bad for interrupting 

So much for evading her messages. Impossible, and now look. 

You (9:58am)  Wtf  im making pancakes like i said  …………. but yeh jin might be in my bed  we didn’t bang tho  we’re taking things slow 💖💘💗💕💞💓💝

Lina (9:59am)  YOU BITCH  WJY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME 

You (9:59am)  i was going to tell you last night :(but got distracted  come over later???? i’ll text u 

Lina (10:00am)  So you actually made a move at the party??  I KNEW IT 

Strange. You’d taken it as a given that she had. Especially with the very direct accusation… Or maybe she just knew Seokjin and you couldn’t keep up this ~friends~ bullshit for any longer. Someone would cave, especially after Brian’s party. A ticking time bomb but no one blew up after detonation. Thank God. 

You (10:00am)  🤔🤭🤫😶

Lina (10:00am)  YOU BETTER SEND HIM HIME TINIGHT  I NEED to know the details  Have fun being a sexy housewife making pancakes  😘

You (10:01am)  hehe 🥰 << me rn 

You were so preoccupied, you hadn’t heard Seokjin waking up, jumping a little when his arms wrapped around your middle, face nuzzling your neck as he hugged you from behind. 

“Where did you go?” His voice was thick with sleep and whiney. 

Putting your phone down, you tried to fight your smile, but nope, this was really happening, and it was better than you could have ever imagined. “I’m making breakfast.”  

“I wanted to cuddle,” he whined again. Sounded cute. “Literally been dreaming about it forever. You’re evil.” 

“Am not.” You laughed, twisting in his grip. “We cuddled all night.” 

Facing him now, you wrapped your arms around his neck, an amused grin on your face. You didn’t think it was possible to cuddle all night, but hey, you’d been proved wrong. You should’ve known. Seokjin was as determined as ever. Only now softer. You liked soft. You liked him.

He squeezed your waist, a pout already formed. “I want more.” 

“Patience, bitch,” you hummed softly, bemusing him for a second before he chuckled. You leaned up to kiss him. “Haven’t brushed my teeth,” he murmured. 

You rolled your eyes. “Like I care.” There were some things you’d waited long enough for, even without realising, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take every opportunity you had to kiss him. One of you had brushed your teeth, that’s all that mattered. 

It wasn’t a showy kiss, mostly slow and lazy. Definitely indulgent though. You almost clung to his bottom lip each time you grazed against it, feeling warmth whenever his breath shook. You felt warmth in the way his hands gripped you too. Safe but free in his hold. Giddy when one wrapped around the small of your back and his fingers grazed the top of your ass. It was exhilarating to feel him touch you so casually. A little tiny niggle of frustration too, because why hadn’t he been doing this from the beginning? You both were fools, but not anymore. 

“What you making?” He murmured when you both parted, curious. 

A hand slid around your hip as you turned your back to him again, picking up the wooden spoon in the bowl to begin to mix again. You gave him a tiny shrug. Not wanting to make a big deal. “Pancakes.” 

He sighed like a king. “Spoiling me already.” Your tut in response choked out when he tapped your ass playfully, wondering off to nose through your cupboards. “Don’t burn them.” 

He found what he was looking for. A box of cereal on the top shelf. “Seokjin,” you chided gently as he grabbed a bowl from the draining rack. “Cereal? Really?” No way could he have room for two breakfasts. 

He grinned goofily. “Appetiser. The starter.” 

You stared him down, practically calling his bluff, but nope, there he went, shaking the cereal into the bowl. Milk following. That’s when you laughed. You couldn’t help it. “You’re nuts.” 

“Yeah, for you.” 

You scoffed quietly at his comeback, a small smile on your face, unable to hide your happiness, and went back to mixing your pancakes. Yeah, it would take a little time getting used to that cheesiness. You needed to step up your game. 

If you were joined at the hip before, it wasn’t nothing on you now. Not that dating changed much overall. If people had already thought you were together, that was only affirmed as you held hands around campus and kissed goodbye at the door of your next classes. Lina was super happy you’d finally admitted your feelings to one another. And not in a gloating way either. Like a piece of fan fiction, she said: The girl who tamed a fuckboy. Yikes, how basic. Sounded like something from Wattpad. You much preferred the trope “Two idiots finally realise their feelings for one another.” Fit you both perfectly. 

Surprisingly, there were no I told you so’s from her, just a rare guilty look as she confessed she felt “kinda to blame.” Her distaste for Seokjin in the beginning may have hindered your view. You did after all keep your hook ups a secret for so long. But no, you reassured her, that was all on you. Despite the great sex, originally the idea of people knowing you’d given into Kim Seokjin was, how should you say, unappealing, but you’d soon (ish) seen how judgemental that was. If anyone was to blame for the delay, it was you. Not that you dwelled on that anymore. 

It was the little things that made you vibrate at a high frequency. Sheer happiness just doing doing the most mundane things. Being able to land a kiss on Seokjin anytime you wanted. Binging so many shows it was probably unhealthy now, yet it didn’t matter with his arms wrapped around your waist. Lying in his bed watching him grow frustrated as he gamed at his desk. Taking him shopping with you and hearing him whine in complete and utter boredom… It all brought you joy. There was no awkwardness, no trying too hard. It just all came naturally. You worked perfectly like this. 

The Pet names started. The first time was when you’d been in near tears on the zoo date. Hating the way the animals were all so far from home and trapped. Seokjin had felt beyond guilty, a distraught, panicked look on his face as he apologised for even thinking of taking you here as a first date. He even said sorry for being shit at comforting you, but as soon as the Baby, please don’t cry had rolled so casually from his tongue, so endearingly in fact, and gentle and soft, he’d done his job perfectly. It was your turn to comfort him. No matter what, your first date wasn’t a complete blow out. You got to feed a giraffe and watch the guy you were crazy about lose his shit over a cute little deer. All while skipping class… Couldn’t get much better than that. 

And for someone who’d never been on a proper date before, Seokjin sure made up for it with you. You tried the fancy dinner route. Found out it wasn’t for you when you accidentally rubbed the eyeliner from your right eye. Seokjin thought about waiting until you realised, but inevitably couldn’t do it to you. Although you were sure it was because he couldn’t hold his laughter in. You both enjoyed simpler, less showy outings, and of course you planned stuff too. When you took him to the gig of one of your favourite groups you thought his head was going to explode. He complained his ears hurt all the way back home. You took the time to rinse him on his own music taste. 

“It’s okay, next time Taylor Swift goes on tour I’ll get you tickets,” you teased. To which he scoffed. 

“You seem to forget I work in a gym. I listen to whatever comes on the radio.” 

Of course you had a comeback. Quick and witty, you were an unyielding duo. “You seem to forget earphones exist.” 

.

.

You weren’t one for posting your life on social media. In fact, you didn’t really post on there much at all. Mainly because you sucked at aesthetically pleasing photos on Instagram and regretted every time you overshared on Twitter. And yes, by oversharing you meant an I’m tired after a full day of classes and a shift at work… Seokjin was little of the same, but the first time he uploaded a selfie of you two (a highly unflattering one at that, but hey ho) you may have melted… Made it all feel so real. 

Caption: Me and my baby 🤧💞 80 likes

You: Yes! You’ve finally given in to that emoji life 🤗😍😭 Seokjin_Kim: Yes! You’ve finally learnt proper grammar (Capitalising correctly) 😘  itsholly: so cute!!!  JungHobi: @Joon94 @San_deul That’s it guys… we’ve lost him to luuuv 🥺 hi_itsbri: Legit?! Congrats man!  Seokjin_Kim: @hi_itsbri Legit! Much appreciated!  Seokjin_Kim: @JungHobi So glad I’m free ^_^ Joon94: RUDE  Joon94: @Seokjin_Kim  San_deul: @Seokjin_Kim Nice try. You live with me 

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After that, it didn’t take you long to start double dating. Seokjin wasn’t brave enough to accompany any of your friends yet, despite Lina being adamant her and Jimin wanted to hang out, but you went plenty with Sandeul and his girlfriend. You favourite was the time you went to the VR arcade with them. You’d never laughed so much in you life—nor felt so scared! You also seemed to hang out with Hoseok, Namjoon and their girlfriends a lot, who preferred to stay in most of the time, eating take out or drinking some. It was on one of those occasions that Seokjin adorably got moody because you laughed at Hoseok too much…

“What’s up with you?” You asked, coming out from the bathroom to see Seokjin still sitting on your sofa with the same frown he’d had since you’d left Hoseok’s place. 

“Nothing.” 

You sighed and bounced into the seat next to him. “Are you in a sulk?” As if it wasn’t obvious. 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Jiiin!” His name left your mouth in a whine as you pounced on him, climbing onto his lap. Despite his one word answers, he reached for you hips naturally. “You’ve been acting strange since the ride back to mine.” You paused to side eye him, sounding snippy yourself now. “Maybe you should’ve just gone home…” 

“No,” he answered immediately, clinging to you tighter. “No. It’s nothing.” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. He hesitated. “Do you think Hoseok’s funnier than me?” 

You stared at him for a moment, a bemused look on your face, because no, that couldn’t he it. Could it? How adorable. “What kind of question is that?” 

“Is that a yes,” he pouted, dropping his hands from you. His jaw tightening. 

“Not at all. It’s a reply of confusion.” 

He sighed. “You’re delaying” 

You had to laugh then. He was being ridiculous. Was he really self-conscious about it? Hoseok was a funny guy, he knew how to entertain, but it wasn’t something you took notice of much. You leaned in, making sure Seokjin was looking at you and spoke slowly. “No. I don’t think he’s funnier than you.” 

It didn’t work. In fact, he averted your gaze to look down at the arm of the sofa. Pout in his voice. “You were laughing all night at him. Ignored me when I said something. I’m used to the guys brushing off my jokes and never laughing, but you…” 

Wrong. You had not been ignoring him all night, but he sounded so dejected you really did think he believed it. You cupped his cheek. “I always laugh at your jokes.” 

“Yeah, probably because you think you have to.” Voice a mumble, you rolled your eyes. 

“Have I, or have I not always thought you were funny?” You’d been laughing because of Seokjin for as long as you’d known him. Even when you didn’t want to admit it. “You’re much funnier than Hoseok. Namjoon? No question. Never met someone so unfunny.”

Seokjin actually managed a little smile at that. Your lame attempt at being funny yourself.

“Yay. That’s what I want to see. A smile.” To emphasise, you pulled the corners of his mouth up with your thumbs.  

“Get off,” he grumbled, but there was now a gigantic grin on his face. “I just need to make sure, y’know? My humour is all I have.” 

You scoffed. “Shut up.” 

“Okay, humour and face.” 

You leaned in once more, tone sincere. “You have way more important qualities.” 

“Great.” He sighed. Fairly dramatically. “Now you’re calling me unfunny and ugly?” 

But mouth already open in argument, he was kissing you with an amused chuckle, not knowing you’d never let him forget the day he worried Hoseok was funnier than him…

.

. 

After a few weeks the novelty of going outside wore off, and soon you were back to staying in. Sharing time between homes, although yours was the preferred, living alone and all. It got pretty domesticated some nights, cooking together, back hugging him as he cut onions because you complained it made you cry. When you said you binged TV too much, you weren’t playing. Somehow you’d completed The Vampire Diaries and were onto The Walking Dead now. Zombies made you a bit uneasy, but actually you found yourself getting quite into it. So into it you searched spoilers ahead of time, too guilty to tell Seokjin your secret. It turned out he was doing exactly the same thing behind your back… You’d both found out your favourite character was soon to die, and reading it had already emotionally broken you, so for now, binging was paused. 

Not that you had much time these days. College was kicking up a notch. You had a final piece that needed to be finished by the beginning of February that was a large percentage of your grade this year and Seokjin seemed swamped with assignments and tests. Along with a part-time job, it was a struggle to find some time to spend together. And that’s how Seokjin convinced you to join the gym again. It was a hard no at first, but he put up a good argument… You could hang out together while he worked and you found not everything was completely body destroying there… You could keep up a worthy enough pace on the treadmill. Look somewhat passable on the elliptical… They were both also very great vantage points for some light viewing (perving) of your man… Squats really were invented for him. Just no one tell him that because he’d get a big head… 

Caption: The only plus side of going to the gym 🏋🏻‍♂️🍑🤤🥵 43 likes 

Linaa: GROSS  Linaa: can you not publicise your weird kinks 🤮 You: @Linaa were you or were you not going on about Jimin’s booty two nights ago ????  You: @PJM tell your girlfriend to shut up  PJM: Guys 😩😩 me and Jin really don’t deserve this  Seokjin_Kim: WHEN DID YOU TAKE THIS?! 

He may have seemed outraged but that wasn’t what he sounded like over text two minutes later… 

Jin💞 (5:47pm)  So I hear you have a thing for my butt   ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“You know I can’t control myself,” you told him later on that night when he’d come over, pinching said butt as you hugged. 

“Stoppp,” he whined, bottom lip jutting out but he didn’t sound very believable. 

“What? I can take full advantage of butt squeezes now.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing the same. You try getting to sleep with two hands cupped firmly around your ass. It got annoying after a while… 

He shook his head slowly. Like he was disappointed. His arms still slung around your waist though and a small smirk itching its way across his mouth. “Twisted. Should’ve known… I still get nightmares.” 

You met his eyes, a glint in them. You knew exactly what he was referring to. To avoid all the crude details, let’s just say an experiment might have occurred…to see how much pleasure one could derive from the prostrate gland…  “Shut up. You’re the one who brought it up, so like, obviously you enjoyed it.” You moved in slowly as you spoke, looping your arms around his neck, a grin on your face. 

He sighed your name quietly. “I’d enjoy anything if it was with you.” Dead romantic over some anal fingering. No sarcasm. It really was. You lips were centimetres apart. So close you could almost taste him, but then he pulled away abruptly. “But that’s besides the point. You obviously told Lina–mfphh!”

You couldn’t wait any longer. Kissing him was your favourite pastime, and well, there had been a lot of kissing this past month. Lots of cute kissing. Chaste or stolen. Soft and gentle. Slow. Fast. Lots of fast kissing. Messy and wet. Eager, sometimes impatient. Lots of heavy breathing, warm bodies and ruined underwear on your part… Although Seokjin had his fair share of problems in that area too. An overactive erection. Taking it slow didn’t mean you couldn’t kiss until you were overheating, grind until you were shaking… Grope until you were moaning. 

You were straddling him on the couch doing just that when you heard a voice calling outside your door. Sounded like your mom but god, that would be the worst thing ever. 

“Yoo-hoo! Are you in?” 

Nooo. It really was your mom. Who needed a cold shower at a moment like this? You were pulling away from Seokjin immediately, hazy mind clearing like magic. No one wanted to be caught getting frisky by a parent. It had happened once a couple of years ago and you in no way wanted to relive that. 

“My mom,” you groaned at Seokjin, answering the puzzlement on his face. 

It quickly turned to panic. “Oh shit. What?” You nodded, quickly getting off him to make your way to the door. “Where are you going?” He panicked harder. 

“To open the door.” You laughed. “Can’t leave her out there.” 

He jumped up. “Hold on. Hold on. My dick”s half hard.” Luckily he did remember to keep his voice down, shoving a hand down his pants. “Shit. Try fully hard.” 

“Hide it.” You hissed, not bothering to check what he was doing as you turned your back to him and ran for the door. He was a big boy (HA), he’d work it out…or not… 

You took a deep breath, smoothing down your hair as you composed yourself and pulled it open. “Hello mother. You do realise most normal people ring the doorbell.” 

“I did.” She sassed you right back. “You took too long.” Really? You must have missed that…too distracted. Oops. She walked inside, stopping when she saw Seokjin stood awkwardly by the coffee table. “Oh.” 

You took a glance at him, eyes wide, like a rabbit caught in headlights. You mean, it could’ve been the erection, but also, this was the first time he was coming face to face with your mother. You’d been too flustered to realise that before you’d flown open the front door. Hadn’t had time to reassure and ease him. Poor guy. 

“Mom, this is Seokjin.” You introduced, walking towards him for some moral support. 

“I know who he is.” She smiled at you, before turning to him. “It’s so nice to meet you finally.” Ugh. That was right. You’d spent a lot of time talking about him these past few weeks. Mostly done subconsciously when you were still in the “friends” phase. Yeah. You didn’t think she bought it either… Especially when you told her you used to “be involved” in the past but things didn’t work out. What? You couldn’t call it hooking up could you… It was a nicer way of putting it. Sort of. She’d been eager to meet him for a while now, ever since you’d started dating. Probably why she’d shown up without notice… 

“Hi.” Seokjin smiled. You moved closer to him. Reassuring him without touching him directly. 

“Even more handsome than his photos.” 

You groaned loudly. “Mom, you’re embarrassing him.” And you. For multiple reasons. Yes. She had made you show her pictures. 

She shook her head. “Nonsense. What are you two up to then?” 

She was looking at Seokjin when she asked so he really had no choice but to reply. “Uh… Uh, we were just… just hanging out.” The smile on his face didn’t look too natural. You nudged him. Hopefully enough to settle him. 

“Seokjin had a late class so he’s only just come over. We were gonna watch some TV.” You helped instead. 

“Oh. Sorry for interrupting.” Like hell she was. “You’re a business major, right?” Seokjin nodded, curious as to how she knew. Uh oh. “My daughter’s told me all about you.” 

“She has?” He sounded surprised. Good surprised. Like a lot of gloating could come of it later surprised. And of course, even when he was still inwardly shitting himself, he turned it around, charming your mother expertly. “That makes me nervous.” 

“Only nice things of course.” Your mother reassured. “She never shuts up about you.” 

“Mom!” You exclaimed. This had been what you were dreading. You changed the subject real fast. “What are you doing here anyway?” It worked. 

“Leftovers.” She replied, pulling out a plastic Tupperware box from her purse. “Your dad was cooking again and thought we were a family of ten.” You chuckled, taking the container from her. Classic. You were sure he’d always thought that. You mom took another look at both you and Seokjin, a smile on her face, before she spoke again. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it.” Seokjin couldn’t help himself and laughed at her choice of phrase. You elbowed him. Childish fucker. 

“Thanks for the food, Mommy,” you smiled sweetly. 

She laughed. “Oh, now you’re nice.” 

“I’m always nice!” 

“That’s what she tells me too,” Seokjin piped up, making your mother laugh.  

“Nice meeting you Seokjin. Eat some too.” She told him, directing her head to the container.  “Sorry for my husband’s cooking.” 

He chuckled. “Nice meeting you too.” 

You followed her to the door, nodding in agreement when she told you she’d see you soon. Like you said, life had been busy. You were spreading yourself thin, but not thin enough to go visits your parents. 

“That went well,” Seokjin said as soon as you closed the door. He sounded relieved. 

“It did.” You agreed, placing the leftovers on the kitchen counter before walking towards him. 

“Didn’t have time to overthink too much. Which is odd considering I was hiding a terrified boner.” You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. He reached for your waist. “It’s gone now, thank the lord.” 

“You’ve been overthinking it?” 

He nodded “Yeah. Meeting parents is a big deal.” That made you smile. Cute. “Thanks for talking about me so much though. It definitely worked in my favour.” 

There it was. One simple gloat. He couldn’t help it. You pushed at his shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“Okay, I’ll keep my ego down.” He laughed. “Whew. Meeting your mom, huh. It’s getting serious.” 

“Giving you permission to back out now.” You rolled your eyes, but despite playing it cool you couldn’t help but feel giddy at his words. Serious with Seokjin. It was all you’d ever wanted. 

He scoffed, leaning down to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Never. You’re stuck with me now.” 

You tried suppressing your smile but failed. You managed to sound casual though. “Doesn’t seem like a bad thing.” 

He smiled back and you hugged him to you. Couldn’t help it. He squeezed your middle as he pulled away to speak. “Maybe it’s time you met my parents soon?” 

Oh boy. Serious it was. 

Not surprisingly, Lina couldn’t comprehend the taking it slow aspect. She knew your history with one another. Heard a few stories she’d rather forget. The fact you were starting from the beginning again – well, you’d never really started from the beginning in the first place, but y’know… The fact you were waiting boggled Lina’s mind. 

“I really did think you’d last a week holding out.” She said tonight, girly night in taking a turn with boy talk. Check you two out, couldn’t last an hour without talking about your men. What had you both become? 

“Like how come you don’t have all this built up sexual tension going on? It’s a love story like no other. You both waited so long to get together, you should be tearing off each other’s clothes. Going at it animal style.” 

“Oh, my god,” you laughed. “Okay, maybe too much wine for you.” You took her empty glass and placed it on the coffee table. She had never been able to handle wine. It turned her into a different person. Tonight, one who was very passionate about Seokjin and you, it seemed… 

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with him.” You explained. “Of course I do. But…” You paused, face flushing a little. Maybe the wine was getting to you too. “I know when it finally happens, it’s going to be amazing. The waiting is only going to make it better.” 

That made you both giggle, giddy from the wine and sex talk. Lina reached over for some chips, crunching loudly as she thought something over in that (drunk) head of hers. “Maybe he lost his dick in an accident in between?” 

“He didn’t lose it in an accident!” You laughed. It was like you hadn’t gone into full detail about last night’s vigorous palming activities not half an hour ago. He still had his dick alright.

Lina shrugged, stuffing her face again. “Maybe he has stage fright…” 

She really was determined to get an explanation. Jesus, who’d have thought she’d wanted you to have sex with Seokjin this much? “I don’t know, I find it cute,” you shrugged yourself. He definitely wasn’t suffering from a case of stage fright. He’d had a healthy case of Erection every time your tongue slipped into his mouth. “Romantic.” You mused. “It’ll happen when the time’s right. Until then, we’re building this whole other layer to our relationship.” 

If truth be told, you’d never felt like this in a relationship. All the others seemed like a joke looking back. Even with Yoongi. You’d been searching for these feelings with the wrong guy. Too dumb to see you could have everything you’d ever wanted with Seokjin. You’d never felt this comfortable. This happy. He really was the other half of you. You didn’t care how cheesy that sounded. Even if maybe you wouldn’t admit it to him yet. 

“Yet he hasn’t made it official…” Lina couldn’t help herself. Muttering under her breath but loud enough for you to hear. 

“Will you stop,” you told her. She was also waiting “patiently” for Seokjin to put a label on it. You, not so much. At this point you knew you were both serious. You were in a relationship, just not technically confirmed, and that was okay. Even if you were yet to call him your boyfriend out loud. (Read: You really wanted to.) 

“What?” She feigned ignorance. 

“Being negative. Me and Seokjin are happy. Everything’s amazing.” 

Lina couldn’t stop her smile then, seeing your grin. “I know. I like seeing you like this. I’m just… You know me, I’m suspicious of everything.” 

“Suspicious when it comes to Seokjin.” You corrected lightly. 

She laughed but didn’t deny. Baby steps. She’d gone from despising the poor guy to practically ordering you to make a move in a year, so it was definitely getting somewhere. You wouldn’t forget she’d referred to you both as a “love story like no other” in a hurry though… You wouldn’t let her forget either!   

“Oh, by the way,” she began, changing the subject – kinda. “We haven’t had a chance to double date yet… My parents are out of town for the weekend. What do you think about this: Lina’s Fancy Dinner Party. Got a ring to it, right?”

“I’m shitting myself. I’m actually shitting myself.” 

“Will you calm down,” you laughed, hooking your arm with Seokjin’s as you stood in the doorway to Lina’s parents’ house. “You’re going to have fun.” 

He’d been dreading this night ever since you’d told him about it a couple of days ago. It wasn’t just Lina and Jimin now, she’d also invited Yumi and her boyfriend, Taeil. The impending doom was real and the whole Uber ride here had been pretty amusing. You’d never seen him so nervous. It was cute. He really, really wanted your friends to like him. Not that they didn’t already, but could you tell him? No! He wasn’t listening. 

“Fun? I’m pretty sure all your friends hate me.” He muttered, before his eyes widened comically. “This isn’t some kind of satanic sacrifice, right?” 

“You’ve seen too many horror movies,” you tutted. You glanced at him, sighing softly when you saw the pitiful look on his face. Despite the jokes he really was anxious over this. You unhooked your arms and rubbed his back before straightening the collar of his dress shirt. This was a fancy dinner party after all. There was a dress code, and you weren’t complaining. Seokjin looked hot all fancy like this. 

“Only Lina had some… misjudged opinions on you, and it’s past tense for a reason.” 

Seokjin pulled a face. He still wasn’t too sure about that, but the kiss you landed on his mouth seemed to help. 

“They’re here!!” Interrupted by the clicking of the door and Lina’s loud voice, you broke apart. “Found them kissing on the doorstep!”

You rolled your eyes and clasped Seokjin’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. “We hadn’t even rung the doorbell yet. How did you know we were here?” 

“Porch light.” She replied flatly, pointing at you both and stepping aside to let you in. “None of that once you get inside. This is a sophisticated dinner party.” 

“Got you,” you nodded, walking into the lounge to find Yumi, Taeil and Jimin already sat around the coffee table. “Here I was thinking it was some type of orgy…” 

“Now that sounds like a party,” Taeil cheered. 

Everyone laughed at that – apart from Lina of course… and surprisingly Seokjin, who looked too scared to even think about joking around… Or perhaps he just didn’t want to piss Lina off. Suck up. 

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.

“Get a room you two,” Yumi teased, wiggling her eyebrows as she watched you and Seokjin from over her wine glass. The dinner had been a success – Lina could actually cook. Who knew? Not you because you ordered takeout every time you hung out – and swiftly after that you’d moved onto entertainment. In the form of drinking games. Seokjin had seemed to loosen up by then, actually beginning to enjoy himself without any nerves. He and Lina had a few conversations. He’d even made her laugh which you thought he got rather smug about… After a good old game of beer pong (which wasn’t very fancy at all) you quickly moved onto ‘Never have I ever”, which of course had turned the three of you girls into a cackling mess. Things were said, things were confessed, and you were sure the guys didn’t know how to handle the details. 

Now it was getting late, you were all winding down, sipping on wine or beer. Lina and Yumi were sharing the sofa with Jimin and Taeil, and Jin and you were curled up on the love seat. Definitely a little drunk, giggling and flirting together. His hand casually up your dress a little as he stroked your thigh. 

“Surprised they got out of one long enough to come here,” Taeil commented. 

“What do you expect? It’s only been a few weeks. They’re fresh in the feels.” Yumi almost pouted, turning to her boyfriend. “Babe, do you remember when we were like that?” 

“How long have you been together?” Seokjin asked, and you kissed him on the cheek, proud he was making conversation. You’d been hanging out with his friends so often now it was normal, so it made you happy to know the same was beginning to happen with yours. 

Taeil grinned and got Yumi into a bear hug, rubbing his cheek into hers as he answered. “One year, one month and 8 days. Want me to add the hours, baby?” 

“Shurrup,” she shook him off her, but she was grinning from ear to ear at his dramatic display. 

“Hey, Lina. Will that be us one day,” Jimin teased, draping his arm around her shoulders.

She played nonchalant, sipping on her wine. “Possibly.” Jimin just laughed, greatly amused by his girlfriend’s antics. It was obvious to anyone that she had fallen for him hard. Despite her cool façade. 

“You guys were together before though, right?” Taeil directed the conversation back to you and Seokjin. 

Your eyes widened, unsure on how to answer. “Uh, kinda.” Little did he know that every single thing you’d both answered during ‘Never have I ever’ had been about one another. Poor innocent Taeil…

“Big history,” Lina explained, puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. They were bright red. She was drunk. Could tell by the way she was keeping everything that came out of her mouth short. 

“I was there when they first hooked up,” Yumi added excitedly. “Well, not actually there. I was at the party.” Valid correction. “I didn’t know until a few months later though.” A pause. 

“Honestly though, it was such a shock. Who would have thought it?” She continued. You shifted a little uncomfortably. You were never good with attention. “You and Kim Seokjin. Mind blown. I always thought you’d rather take a vow of celibacy than get dicked down by. Kim. Seokjin.” 

Okay. So everyone was drunk, and here you were feeling like you were sobering up now. The sound of Jin’s laughter beside you eased you a little. “Let’s quit with the full name talk.” 

Everyone laughed bar Lina, who turned her head to Yumi. “That’s why she kept it to herself for so long. He was her dirty little secret.” 

“Hardly,” you piped up. You got she was kidding around, but for some reason you felt defensive. “Just know what you guys are like.” 

“Well I think it’s cute how you guys decided to give it a proper go,” Jimin smiled. “You’re good together.” 

Before you could say thanks, Lina was butting in. “I didn’t say they weren’t good together. They are! All we have to do now is wait for Seokjin to pop the question…” 

“Marriage?” Taeil asked uncertainly.

“No, you idiot,” she laughed. “Girlfriend! They haven’t made it official yet.” You felt Seokjin freeze beside you. You didn’t dare look at him. Lina was in deep shit when you got home. Wrath over text was a scary thing. 

“Oh, well no rush,” Taeil shrugged. “It took me two months to ask Yumi to be mine.” 

“That’s true. Remember?” Yumi directed at you and Lina. “I was getting pretty panicky.” 

“Awh, I’m sorry babe.” Taeil apologised. You all wrinkled your noses as they kissed, thankfully distracting the conversation long enough for it to change. 

Surprisingly thanks to Lina herself. It was her groan that did it, as she buried her head into Jimin’s shoulder. “My head hurts and I need to stack everything in the dishwasher.” 

“Didn’t you say no more wine a few nights ago,” you chuckled, throwing a cushion at her. She yelped dramatically. When you put your hand down, Seokjin clasped it, entwining your fingers. You snuck a smile his way. Knowing he wasn’t too traumatised by the direction of tonight’s conversation relieved you.  

“Yeah Lina. C’mon. Lightweight,” Jimin prodded her. “We can clean up everything in the morning.” 

“Noo. I think I’m going to be hungover tomorrow.” She whined. “Can someone help?” 

“I will,” Seokjin offered. Shocking you, and everyone else in the room while he was at it. “Maybe some water will help you too?” 

.

. 

“Lina doesn’t hate me,” Seokjin sang in the back of the Uber. En route to his place. 

You were wrapped into him, warm, cosy and a little sleepy. You couldn’t wait to crash out in bed. “Oh?” This piqued your interest though. He just sounded so pleased. 

“Uh huh,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “We talked while in kitchen.” Oh okay. So he had ulterior motives when he helped her load the dishwasher. “She’s just suspicious of me. I get it. I don’t have the best track record. I think I put her mind at ease though.” He squeezed you happily. 

Even though you were curious about their conversation you didn’t pry. “She still embarrassed you in front of everyone though.” And you… She still wasn’t let off the hook regardless of how drunk she was.  

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “She put my mind at ease too. Told me I was worried for no reason.” 

You frowned. “Worried? About what?” 

“Asking you something.” Your heart stilled. Oh shit. He squeezed you again, murmuring in your ear. “Wanna take this further. These last few weeks have been amazing, huh?” All you could do was nod. You were getting all hot, cheeks a rosy hue no doubt. Forgetting the Uber driver could probably hear everything despite Seokjin’s low voice. Not that you really cared. 

“I already think of you as my girlfriend. Just too scared to call you it. In case I jinx things. In case you’re secretly sick of me already.” 

You managed to give him a tiny scoff. Voice shaky. “As if.” 

“So…” He whispered. “Will you do it? Be my girlfriend?” 

You swallowed, composing yourself and glanced at him. “You’re really asking me in the back of an Uber?” 

He grinned. “I spot a moment and I’m going for it. Lina’s orders.” 

You laughed, cupping his face. “You know you don’t have to listen to her, right?” 

“I know,” he nodded. “She was just right this time.” 

You turned, resting the back of your head on his shoulder. “I’ll only be your girlfriend under one condition.” 

“Hm?” He placed another kiss on the top of your head, both arms wrapped around your chest. 

“You’ll be my boyfriend.” 

He hummed in contemplation. “That doesn’t sound too bad. May have to think about it for a few hours or so though. Maybe a night–ooff.” 

You cut him off with a whack to the chest, twisting around to face him again. “It’s a yes or else.”

He curled his tongue against his cheek. “That’s hot.” You waited patiently. “Of course it’s a yes.” 

.

.

“Wait. Wait, wait,” Seokjin half panted, breaking away from your mouth. It was a wonder you’d made it as far as his bedroom, let alone his bed. As soon as the Uber had dropped you off, you were on one another. It had finally happened. You were Seokjin’s girlfriend. He was your boyfriend, and now everything was right with the world. 

“Let me do something.” He reached for his phone in the back pocket of his pants, rolling off you to unlock it and start clicking away. “Check your phone.” 

On cue it pinged, still in your purse which had been slung on the floor. You sat up and rushed for it curiously. Laughing along the way because what was he up to? You laughed even harder when you read the notification. 

Kim Seokjin sent you a relationship request. 

Facebook official, huh? Check you two out. He came up from behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his breathing still a little heavy. You had quite literally kissed his face off. “Was just gonna ask you like that but I thought it might me too lame.” 

“Aw. That would’ve been cute.” 

“Fuck,” he cursed, looking regretful. “Second guessing the Uber now.” 

“Shush.” You murmured, leaning back to kiss him softly. “I liked that too.” You were sure the driver really appreciated the cringe fest too… 

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. 

The noise from both your phones interrupted you this time. You begrudgingly pulled away, looking down at the screen. 

Jung Hoseok commented on a post you were tagged in: HOLY SHIT  Jung Hoseok commented on a post you were tagged in: IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING  Hwang Lina commented on a post you were tagged in: FINALLY thnk me later Seokjin 😘 Kim Namjoon commented on a post you were tagged in: marriage next 😉

Seokjin read them over your shoulder, laughing at your idiot friends as you groaned. “God. You’ll get scared away before we even start.” 

He hugged you closer, kissing your cheek. “Not a chance in hell. Wanna elope?” 

“Shut up,” you giggled. Despite your joking around, you didn’t think you’d ever been happier. You wanted to tell him that but then his mouth was on your earlobe. He knew that was your weakness. He was on his back and you were straddling him as soon as his tongue slipped inside the shell. If he wanted to make you all hot and bothered, a heads up would’ve been nice. You definitely weren’t tired anymore. Even more so feeling his hands drag up your thighs where your dress had ridden up. You viewed him from above, realising you must’ve tugged at his shirt a little too hard already. It was stretched around the collar, a button undone. He looked amazing. You tilted your head to the side. “Did I tell you how hot you look in a dress shirt?” 

He paused to think. “Hm. You may have mentioned it a couple hundred times.” As he spoke he grabbed your butt, pulling you down to level with him. You giggled, letting him kiss your face like something possessed. He paused before he got to your mouth, murmuring sweetly. “You looked beautiful tonight.” 

You pouted. “Don’t use big words to brag on my shitty vocabulary.” 

He looked at you questioningly, amusement dancing in his eyes. Maybe you were still a little tipsy. That paired with the giddiness of tonight’s turn in events and it really felt like you were floating on a cloud of happiness. But it was really Seokjin’s body. Firm and large underneath you. 

You really couldn’t get enough of his mouth. His taste. You think you’d kissed him way over a couple hundred times since you’d gotten (back) together. He argued and said it was more. You didn’t know, you had trouble keeping count. You couldn’t get enough of him. All perfect and pretty and amazing. He was yours. For real this time. Confirmed. Boyfriend. You smiled into his mouth at the thought again. 

“What?” He chuckled, grin just as wide. He knew what. He felt it too. 

“Tonight is the best night ever.” 

“You’re drunk.” 

“Am not.” You quipped. “You’re drunk.” 

“Am not.” His lips were mashed with yours. “I’m just really fucking happy.” 

You slipped your tongue into his mouth, not caring if you turned it sloppy. You wanted it to be messy. You wanted to just let yourself go. To give into every little feeling of pure joy you had in your body. It was wet and warm and sticky, and Seokjin’s hands were naughty. They slipped up your dress, over your ass, rubbing the flesh and pinged your thong with two of his fingers. Your stomach flipped. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched you like this in a while but it was the first time he’d been so blatant about it. The snap of elastic stayed ringing in your ears as you moaned. You uncontrollably rubbed against him. He grunted into your mouth and something throbbed. 

You broke away from his mouth with a pop, sitting up on him wobbly. “You’re naughty, Kim Seokjin.” You scolded.

He just looked smug, a shit eating grin on his face. “Not anymore than you are.” Had you pulled at his hair without noticing? It looked a little wild. Regardless, you were getting distracted again. His hands still up your dress, gripping your ass as he rubbed you against his crotch. He was fully hard. You felt it strain against his pants and press into the pulsing between your legs. 

“Mario is watching us,” he whispered. “Wants to be me.”

“Ew.” You wrinkled your nose. You’d forgotten all about that creepy figurine. 

“Want me to turn him around?” 

You shook your head. “He can watch.” If truth be told you couldn’t bear it if Seokjin got up right now, even if he was coming straight back. You circled harder into him, such a simple pleasure never feeling so good. Moisture grew and collected in your thong. Barely. You were a few minutes away from spoiling his dress pants. He held your weight as you leant back, letting you grind to your heart’s content. 

“Does it feel good? Grinding on my dick like that?” 

“Mhmm.” It was all a moan. Couldn’t think to do anything else. Such a simple way of words but it had you burning up. You’d missed what his mouth could do to you. You’d missed him like this. Memories came back, swarming the front of your mind. Clouding it. So when you felt gravity leave you, back landing on the mattress with a silent thud, you were momentarily stunned. Pinned down, wet and horny. 

“What are you doing?” You gasped, which flew into a moan when you felt his crotch thrust into you.

He spread your legs, dress riding up even more, bunched up around your waist. “Protecting your modesty. Mario’s a pervert.” To give it to him, he really did want to sound causal, but his voice was strained, breathing hard and you rubbed against him shamelessly. 

It was odd. You were beyond frustrated. Craving him like you never had before, but this became enough. Feeling him solid against your barely covered core, starting to thrust into you like he was actually fucking you. It was hot. It was working. It was enough. Just as pleasurable as his dick would be inside you. 

Needy and raw. Messy and crude, but just so amazing. Pent up feelings finally getting their own way. You clung to him, wrapped your legs around him, rutted against him obscenely until you were a moaning, sweaty mess. Simulating sex desperately, because you needed him and wanted him any which way. 

Seokjinnn,” you whined, unsticking yourself from his mouth to catch your breath. Back arching as he gripped your legs from behind the knee, thrusting forward hard. 

He was panting, sweat collecting between his brow which was furrowed in effort. “C-can you cum like this?” 

“Y-yeh,” you nodded eagerly. It was great you were on the same page. Sweet relief was close. It tingled through your body and curled your toes. You were so turned on you’d cum from anything right now. “Can you?” 

“I think so,” he breathed into your cleavage. Mouth now distracted with kissing the tops of your breasts. Your nipples were painfully hard, desperate to be freed from the dress and desperate to feel his tongue. But not tonight. “Actually.” Seokjin knelt up, shaky hands undoing his fly and pushing his pants down to the middle of his thighs. His erection strained against the underwear and you throbbed at the sight. 

“Now I can,” he grinned goofily. He moved closer, and you flattened one of your legs to the bed, letting him slide in between it and the one still folded at the knee. “I’m so hard,” he laughed breathlessly, a hand reaching down to grip his dick. You followed, unable to help yourself. Squeezing tightly. Greedily. “Fuck.” He sounded impatient and desperate, rushing to thrust into you once again. You moved your hand to his hip, holding it tightly as he held onto your knee, gaining leverage to begin rubbing into you hard. “This feels so good.” He astounded and you nodded wildly in agreement. 

You were close. Not long left, and as soon as he began circling into your core, swollen and dripping by now surely, that was it. The final push. “Don’t stop.” You begged, reaching for him any way you could. “I’m g-onna… I really am…” You trailed off, laughing in disbelief.  

“Yeah?” 

You nodded again, words now failing you as the heat built up, body shuddering to its orgasm. Seokjin didn’t relent, circling harder as you came, until he couldn’t take it any longer and collapsed onto your body. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He was spent. Exhausted, sweaty and near orgasm himself. You shifted a little so he didn’t rub against the sensitivity still hot between your legs and let him finish off on the inside of your thigh. You could tell by how his body stiffened, a moan like grunt dragging from his throat. You moaned back, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he burrowed his behind your waist. You clung to one another, both masses of sweat. Heavy breathed and unable to talk for a little while. 

It was Seokjin that came to first surprisingly. Despite practically dying to get you both to cum. He laughed into the crook of your neck, and you looked down at him curiously. He rolled off you a little. Hair stuck to his forehead.  “Jesus fucking christ. Feel like a teenager just done humping my pillow.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t do that anymore?” 

His eyes widened. “You do?” 

You nodded as you wriggled free from him fully and pulled down your dress. Your underwear clung to you. You felt extra sticky now that you’d cooled down. “It’s a valid form of masturbation.” 

“Well, shit. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

You laughed, sitting up. Seokjin stayed lying down, looking up you with the softest look in his eyes. He was definitely exhausted from all the humping. “Shit. Sandeul isn’t here right?” You hadn’t thought about that before, severely distracted as you’d rushed into the apartment. 

“I dunno. I can’t remember if his door was closed or not.” Jin rolled onto his back, shimmying his pants up. “Oh well. Not like he wasn’t used to it before. Won’t take him long to adjust again.” He shot you a smirk and you giggled. “Wanna shower or something?” 

You groaned. It was too late to shower, and you were tired again, but there was no way you could stay like this. You jumped off the bed, grabbing your stuff that had a permanent home at his place already. “I’ll clean up quick and get ready for bed.” 

“I’ll go after you.” He pulled a face, adjusting his crotch. “Bit gross.” 

Laughing, you stopped beside him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Wanna go first?” 

“Nah. It’s fine.” He smiled. “I need a moment anyway. Whew.” 

On your way out you paused by Mario, twisting him to face the wall. You winked in Seokjin’s direction. “For next time.” 

.

.

You were tucked up in bed trying to stay awake on your phone when Seokjin came back from his shower. “Near naked?” Damn. What did you do to be gifted with such a sight. You’d seen him come out the shower a few times since you’d gotten together, towel slung around his waist, or watched him get dressed before you went out somewhere, but he hadn’t gone to bed in just his boxers. He better watch it, you’d jump his bones again. 

“I’m so hot.” He moaned. Tell you about it. Although you didn’t think he meant that type of hot. “That was a bigger work out than the gym.” 

“Not used to it anymore.” You teased, pulling up his side of the duvet so he could get in. As soon as he did you were attached to him, cuddling up. “You lied to me by the way,” you murmured, pulling away as you dragged your hand down his chest. 

“Hm?” He looked confused. 

“Remember you said you didn’t have abs anymore…” 

He took a moment to think before he scoffed. “That was ages ago, but these are not abs regardless.” 

“Are to.” 

“Are not.” He tried to pull the comforter up, attempting to cover his body. “This is just normal. I mean, I can try and get them back for you?” 

“Shut up,” you exclaimed. “Really, Seokjin?” You clung to his neck. “I don’t care about things like that. I like you any which way. I really like you.” You emphasised, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek. 

“Get off,” he chuckled. You could feel his grin underneath your lips. 

You buried your face in his neck instead, showering it with little kisses. “I think you’re hot, Hot, HOT anyway.”

He was laughing loudly now, grabbing your elbows to try and push you away. “Tickles,” he whined. “You’re crazy.” You sprung from him as soon as he began tickling under your armpits. Relenting instantly, head falling back into the pillows with a cry. 

“I think you’re hot too,” he whispered, leaning over you, mouth now on your neck as one of his hands ran up your side, cupping your boob gently. “Grinding on me. Making me lose my shit. Only you could make me cum like that… In my fucking underwear.”  You giggled, squirming under him as he growled and nibbled your earlobe. You were heating up again, a fool to his words. But of course your body had to betray you. A yawn escaped. You didn’t even know you’d been holding it in. 

“You’re tired,” he commented, pulling back to push stray strands of hair away from your face. 

“Mmm,” you admitted, eyes heavy and begging to be closed. 

He kissed the tip of your nose. “Let’s go to sleep.” 

There was no point arguing. Besides, it just felt too good being wrapped up in Seokjin’s arms once he’d flicked the lamp off. “Goodnight girlfriend,” he murmured in your ear, shaking you a little when you only hummed in response, half asleep. “Say it back.” 

‘Goodnight girlfriend.” 

“Nooo,” he whined, squeezing you. 

You giggled, entwining your hand with his. You were just teasing. “Goodnight boyfriend.” 

Written 2019. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

[floralfloyd]

Confidence - Brian May

Hi all, hope you’re all safe and well. I know I said I’d update on a Wednesday but writers block said otherwise. So, here’s something a little different. I wrote this imagine back when I was studying for my exams and I hope you all like it. I promise that I’ll have a chapter of a Field of Flowers up soon.

April 1978, Cannes, France

It was great to finally have a holiday, for Brian it was a working holiday but for y/n it was a holiday all the same.

The boys from Queen had decided to record their next studio album in the sunny region of France known as Cannes. The shared villa had a pool and a massive garden which made it perfect for late walks that y/n often went on to clear her mind.

It was a Saturday evening and Roger had started a BBQ, much to Dominique's protests, while the others hung around the pool.

"You must be cooking in that dress y/n... come on don't be so silly and change into one of your swimming costumes" Brian spoke softly as he playfully nudged her shoulder.

"I've already explained this to you, Brian. There is no way in hell that I'm wearing anything that shows of my thighs and backside hence why I packed dresses" she hissed slightly so no one else would hear.

"You're being ridiculous, you know that don't you love?" he let out a light chuckle "I've told you before that you're beautiful and that you should embrace that. So what? Yes, you may not be as skinny as Dominique or Veronica, but I love you for you"

Brian wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him. Y/n smiled gently as she went quiet, she wasn't ready to admit that anything he said was right, in her mind she was still gross looking.

For the rest of the evening, Y/n watched from the sun lounger occasionally joining in on the conversation with Veronica and Dominique on a planned shopping trip while the guys were in the studio the next day. y/n occasionally looked over at Brian with a loving smile in which he returned with a small wink, this made her giggle and all thoughts of earlier conversation forgotten.

Y/n returned late the next afternoon from her shopping trip with Veronica and Dominique to find Brian scribbling furiously in a notebook, the coffee table in their room covered with crumpled up pieces of paper.

"What's all this love?" she asked as she sat down across from him picking up one of the crumpled balls of paper.

"Song lyrics.... Don't touch that!" he said firmly as he looked up as her hand grasped the paper.

Y/n instantly letting it go looking down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I'm going to head downstairs to get a drink." she instantly turned around and headed downstairs. Filling up a glass from the cupboard with water she looked out the window at all the others having fun on the lawn playing football. "If only I could join in..." she thought as she took a sip of the crisp water. The opening of a door broke her attention away from the window and to the person who had entered. Noticing it was Brian she returned her gaze to the window.

"Y/n, I'm sorry I snapped. I'm just so concentrated on writing this song for you, I want to show you that you shouldn't be ashamed of how you look cause no matter what you think others out there love you for you" he said softly as he wrapped his arms around her pulling her close.

Y/n smiled gently as she looked up at him. "No need to be sorry...I shouldn't have bothered you in the first pla-"

"Y/n stop! You never bother me sweetheart" he pecked her cheek "you could be the most annoying person ever, but you could never bother me, not truly"

"Can I at least see what you have so far of the song?" she asked with a puppy face that she knew he wouldn't be able to resist.

Brian's face softened as he looked at her "Ahh, you have me with that adorable puppy face. Follow me my love" he smiled taking her hand and leading her upstairs.

Y/n sat down on their bed as Brian lifted his acoustic guitar from the corner of the room before taking a seat in front of her with his notebook placed on his knee. He began to play and sing

"Hey I was just a skinny lad Never knew no good from bad But I knew life before I left my nursery, huh Left alone with big fat Fanny She was such a naughty nanny Heap big woman, you made a bad boy out of me Hey hey!I've been singing with my band Across the wire, across the land I seen every blue eyed floozy on the way, hey But their beauty and their style Went kind of smooth after a while Take me to them dirty ladies every timeC'mon! Oh, won't you take me home tonight? Oh, down beside your red firelight Oh, and you give it all you got Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round

Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go 'round"

"Brian..." she teared up looking at him, she blinked to stop them falling down her cheeks. "It's amazing...I love it" Y/n leaned forward pulling him into a hug.

"I'm glad love, now let's go outside and join the boys. I think Mary and Dominique are making dinner tonight to make up for Roger's attempt at a BBQ" he chuckled

"I'll be out in a minute; I just need to phone in and check up with my parents"

"Okay dear, I'll get you outside" he smiled as he placed the guitar down before disappearing out the room door.

Once it was clear that he was outside Y/n opened her drawer and looked at her clothes, picking up the blue swimsuit she changed into it before walking outside. It was apparent that Brian had helped convince her that it didn't matter what the haters thought.

Taking a seat by the pool next to Brian, she lay her head on his shoulder. "Y/n won't you get your..." he paused looking her up and down before grinning "That's my girl, you look absolutely gorgeous"

Y/n blushed as she pecked his lips "I love you so much, Brian"

"I love you too Y/n"

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