#nice save Rog

[leveragehunters]

Took the plunge into Baldur's Gate 3, and basically rolled my old WoW hunter. Even named her Tarma! I love her and the game so far is a blast - I'm only 6 hours in, so there's a long way to go. I'm playing on the Rog Ally (a handheld), which I also love, and it runs like a dream.

Def recommend!

Bonus pic of my Rog Ally, featuring (and named after) my old WoW hunter:

[radiotorn]

having to restrain from saying anything when my dad dares to say that men get paid LESS than women. in what world. are you out of your fucking mind old man.

[doodle-pops]

Hii^^

Your Námo fic was such a fun read, but Mina… you turn every person I don’t like into ones that I would die for✨ You can’t make me simp for everyone… it’s not fair 🫣

Also, I have a question~ Which Elf would own cats, dogs or other exotic animals (parrots, snakes etc.)?

A/N: ✨️That’s a special ability of mine✨️ I have superpowers, and I’m glad that you enjoyed it ☺️. As for which elves would have interesting pets apart. Also, I’m not good at knowing the names of different domestic cats, so excuse my lack of knowledge 🫣

Cats...

— Maedhros (the very fluffy ones), Caranthir (probably a panther), Curufin, Finrod, Egalmoth, Rog (I know it might be odd, but just pick this giant being cuddly and soft with a kitty), Erestor, Beleg (a panther), Gwindor (a black cat bc he needs good laughter from their antics)

Dogs...

— Celegorm (I can see him having lots of others, but being a dog person sticks out the most bc of Huan), Amrod, Amras, Argon, Beleg, Elladan

Birds…

— Feanor, Maglor (parrot), Fingolfin, Fingon (eagles esp after saving Mae), Finarfin (goldfish; to obv lol), Ecthelion (swans), Egalmoth (peacock)

Horses...

— Celegorm (ofc), Caranthir, Amrod, Amras, Fingolfin, Fingon, Argon, Angrod, Aegnor, Glorfindel, Beleg, Elrohir, Elladan, Gil Galad, Elrond

Fishes...

— Celebrimbor (a nice pond filled with a variety), Turgon, Finarfin, Finrod, Galdor, Elrond

Others...

— Celegorm (a wolf bc why not), Galdor (rabbits/bunnies/turtles), Maeglin (ferrets/weasels/mole), Thingol (deers/elks/reindeer), Beleg (a capybara and wolf as well; the entire forest of animals probably lol)

[writeforfandoms]

Hooray for blurbs! My request is for the protective list, number 4 - "when I say run, don't wait or look back just run" - I figure this would work either with Price/Mama Bear or Gaz/Cat. Your choice as to if it's the human or the shifter who's making a break for it.

I went with Gaz/Kitty because it felt right at the time. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: threat of violence, minor character deaths, 141 are all protective of kitty.

--

You weren't sure how these people had found out you were a shifter, or how they'd followed you, or how they'd managed to catch you shifted.

But they had.

Your gaze darted between the five of them, all armed, all prepared. One had a fucking net ready to toss at you.

In other words... you were fucked. Well and truly fucked.

You wished you'd been able to say goodbye to Gaz, leave him some kind of note, something so that he had some closure. But you were rapidly running out of time as one of them edged forward, testing you. You hissed, all of your fur already floofed on end, back arched.

But they'd trapped you in a corner and you all knew it. There was no way out for you. Even if you shifted, you didn't stand a chance.

"Make it easy on all of us," one of them said, even as the one with the net lifted it. "Give up now."

You hissed your answer. It wasn't in your nature to give up so easily.

There was a soft crackle from above you, almost like a radio. Your ears flickered in that direction. Maybe you'd misheard? But no, there it was again. Another deliberate crackle.

Your heart leapt.

"When I say run, don't wait or look back," Gaz said quietly from above you. So quietly, in fact, that you thought maybe the men hadn't heard him. They certainly didn't seem to have. "Just run."

You flicked your ears deliberately back at him, tail twitching. He knew you well enough by now to know that was agreement.

The man who'd spoken stepped forward, one hand stretching out towards you.

"Run." That was all the warning you got before there was a muffled gunshot, and the man dropped, a hole in his head.

You didn't wait to see what the others did. You booked it, leaping into the open space left by the dead man and running hard. The shouting behind you barely registered, but the gunshots did.

The net that managed to catch your back half definitely caught your attention. You yowled, momentarily caught, struggling to free yourself.

"Blue," came a familiar rumble, and you jerked to find Price kneeling down to rip the net away from you. You jumped up onto his shoulder, headbutting the side of his head in greeting. "Alright?"

You chirruped a soft reply. Sure, you were still a bit panicky, but your pack was here. Your person had saved your life.

You were much better than you would have been otherwise.

"Gaz," Price called. "Soap and Ghost are on the way for cleanup."

"Rog." Gaz dropped carefully from his sniper point, passing by the bodies without a second look. He'd killed all of them. For you. "You alright, love?"

You chirruped at him too, slow-blinking too for good measure. As soon as he was close enough, you abandoned Price for Gaz, headbutting him and purring.

"I'm sorry, love," he murmured, one hand rising to steady you. "Dunno how they knew about you, but I'll find out."

"We'll find out," Price corrected, eyes stormy as he walked past to check the nearest body. "It'll be handled. Keep close to one of us in the meantime. I will make that an order if I have to."

You mrrped, more then agreeable after this little misadventure. You headbutted Gaz again, licking his ear.

"Did we miss the fun?" Soap asked as he sauntered up to the little group of you, Ghost steps behind him.

"Oh no," Price said with a little grin. "Fun starts now."

Soap groaned, way more dramatic than he actually felt, and you watched as they worked on cleanup. It was nice to know that they'd come for you, as you would for them.

You'd be bringing back gifts for them for days, and you didn't mind in the least.

[prettyboykatsuki]

i like you enough that my broke ass isn't even seething in jealousy at your laptop (rog g14!!!! 🤩🙌🏼 isn't that a ryzen fucking NINE too, like good god this is literally as high as a high-end laptop CAN get?!?!???) and i think that's surprising of me because i can be kind of an asshole qhslzmashdzl but I'm genuinely just happy and excited for you, you deserve a fancy ass beast king, hope you have the best time with it!

this made me scream laugh KJDHKJDF

if it makes you feel any better i had to empty out a fatass portion of my savings account that i'd been putting a little bit into every time i got any money. the rest of it i paid with my finaid refund so right now im mega MEGA flat broke. it was an investment for sure 😭

but im not even gonna lie im GASSED KJFJGFDJNS. i almost feel bad bc it really did cost me and arm and a leg so being excited makes me feel kind of bad LOLLL but it was like a gift to myself for transferring and an investment. wanted a computer w integrated graphics anyways to handle making bigger projects so its nice

thank you for your support for my antics though in general i still cant get over it. i can't bring myself to touch it fr so im still using my separate keyboard and laptop dfhs

[desiresign]

days in the constant- wilba

i am playing singleplayer dont starve rog as wilba. lets see how long i survive

days 1-9

i found stuff for a science machine on day one and was able to craft a bit. spawn had clockworks so i grabbed gears and a spear and hightailed it out of there.

i found a couple pigs and knocked their houses down, saving the material for later. i found a seemingly nice place for base in between big king and beefalo. theres a lot on the other side of the map, though that are important, like rocks. the touchstone is right by my base though

i have to remember full moons last multiple days in DS. im used to them only lasting one day like in DST. anyways, i set up a pig farm and just reaped some werepigs. all with wilbas cute dialog about her curse...she is so adorbale, i love her so much, she is my daughter, end tweet

[ascalonsmercy]

heaps n heaps of donny lore i tried brainstorming into the giggle docs yesterday.

he's a very contrary kind of person in the way that he's always ^^ but he almost always has an agenda behind everything he says and does. it gets so warped and wicked to the point he starts enjoying it (sometimes) and when he gets out of ishgard for limlom & beyond for a while he really does start to feel the weight of 'aren't you tired of being nice? don't you wanna go APESHIT' meme bubbling up into volcanic explosion mode.

i. talked with mads before about how he probably learns some of the ROG after a while and finds that it surprisingly suits him for someone who initially believed (and was believed to be) not meant to become a warrior, & whose talent in destructive magicks was his saving grace when it came to defending himself.

i'm always teetering on how much 'heart' he has in him - that is, WHOLESOME heart i mean. i tried writing in a notebook (which i barely ever do anymore asdfas) his thoughts like a journal and i kept stopping myself bc . i'm still undecided on how much he legitimately CARES about anything or anyone around him. he DOES to a degree i'm just unsure yet of how much that degree is.

btw his inspirations thus far are shinya hiiragi (owari no seraph), lamorak (granblue fantasy), & sleipnir of house harbard (ffxvi). he is VERY pretty with the same ash-blonde hair as his big sister euphemie & the same starlit eyes to boot, though his are more elegant instead of euphemie's big round doll-like doe eyes asdfasdf

[tennis-kittens]

Another day, another glorious fedal interaction • Part 2

Roger's POV: *peaks at Rafa's naked back then nervously fiddles with his zipper* *realises he got caught drooling by the cameraman* *casually points at Rafa*

Roger: *mouths* You should film him

*points again just in case*

Rafa's POV: *once again completely oblivious to what's going on as he's too busy fighting with his own shirt*

[illfoandillfie]

Hiii ive been offline for a while and seen you were doing blurbs yaay! You are my fav writer hands down. If it aint too late could i please request number 82 from the smut prompt list with 'montreal era rog omg my fav 😍

awww you're so sweet! Thanks for the request!

82: Exhibitionism

(there is also a lil tiny bit of spanking)

You hadn’t originally planned to join the band for most all of the tour, but Roger had practically begged you to come claiming he couldn’t survive the whole thing without you.  “The guys are wretches and they pick on me and I need a fun woman like you to spend time with.”  You laughed at his dramatics and agreed. Truth was you liked touring with them. You’d just assumed that Roger had grown up too much to need a groupie but apparently you were wrong. So you hopped on their flight and followed them to the other side of the world. 

Tensions were high the night of the Montreal show though everyone was trying to play it cool since there were cameras around filming. You stayed out of the way during their rehearsal, knowing they’d need to concentrate and not wanting to be caught on tape too much. But you did watch them run through the show, testing their instruments and the lighting rig and whatever else they needed to prepare. A couple of hours before the show Roger disappeared to change and warm up but you knew he’d find you when he wanted you even if that wasn’t until after the show. Instead you found your way to the back of the stage. Peering out from behind a heavy black curtain you could see the team of roadies setting up and tuning the instruments and a little further away, the audience filing into their seats. 

“Hey,” said a familiar rough voice from just behind your ear.   “I’ve been watching the crowd come in,” you half whispered, not wanting any of the men working just on the other side of the curtain to hear you, “This is going to be an amazing show.”  “Yeah I’ve got a good feeling about tonight,” Roger grabbed your hand and drew you further down the little corridor behind the curtain, deeper into the shadows, “Although you say that about every show.”  “It pays to be nice to you,” you giggled as Roger drew you over to where his timpani were waiting to be dragged out on stage.   He hummed, pulling aside the curtain so you could see the crowd for your new angle. But to do so he had to lean over you, his hips against your arse.   You pushed back a little, teasing, trying to figure out if he intended to have you before he went out on stage or not. You suspected he did or else he'd be in the change room with the others warming up, but you could never be one hundred percent certain with Roger.   You grew more certain of what he wanted as his hand settled on your waist and he pressed his lips to your neck.  “Not gonna save it for after the show?”  “No, I really think I need to now. You look so sexy and you’ve got me all excited. I don’t want it to interfere with my performance.” His hand slipped under the hem of your dress to toy with you through your knickers.  You giggled again as you felt his cock stir against your arse, “Maybe we should find a private room. I’m sure theres a bathroom or something we can defile.”  “They can’t see us,” he murmured, mouthing at your pulse point, his fingers more instistently touching you.  “Charming,” you admonished though not seriously. You were used to Roger’s charms and how much he liked the danger of playing in public.  “Alright,” he shrugged, leaning close to you ear, “What if I said I want to pump you full of cum so you can spend the whole show feeling it drip into your panties and then after I’m done playing I’ll take you back to the hotel, gag you with your messy knickers, and fill you again.”  You bit back a whimper but you couldn’t keep from squirming a little, rubbing yourself against his rapidly stiffening cock.   That just made him laugh, “See, you want it too. Are you going to be good and let me fill my favourite pussy or do I have to make you behave?”  You jolted as he shifted his stance to give your arse a quick slap.  “I’ll be good Roger,” you almost whined, bending over the timpani and hiking up your skirt.   “That’s my girl,” he cooed, pulling your knickers aside and easing himself into you.  

You gasped for air as he began fucking you, his pace punishingly fast. You had no way to know if he was being considerate in trying to get you both off quickly, knowing full well that while you were hidden it was still possible for anyone to stumble onto you, or if he was just so aroused by the idea of being caught that it made him excited and rough. Either way though it was good. You had to bite down on your arm to keep from being too loud, just in case someone on the other side of the curtain heard.   Roger was less concerned with that though, turning the danger into dirty talk. “Wouldn’t it be so hot if someone heard you. God I’d love to put a mic on you so everyone could hear how good I fuck you. Go on, moan properly so they all know.”  You tried to hold off but he swatted your arse cheek again, “Moan. Or so help me god I wont stop until someone does hear.”  That did make you moan, drawn out and desperate.  Roger laughed through his ragged breath, “G-good gi-rl.” He reached around to rub your clit, “Better cum soon or the whole crew will finish setting up and they’ll all see you. Unless you want them to know how my favourite whore looks taking my cock.”  You whined but his fingers were relentless, circling your clit the way he knew you liked as he kept fucking into you. You moaned again as you came.   And with your orgasm it didn’t take long for Roger to make good on the first part of his plan, pulling your hips back against him, fingertips digging into your skin, so you were flush against him with his cock buried deep as he filled you. 

You stayed bent over the timpani as Roger fixed your underwear and smoothed down your dress before tucking himself back into his pants.  “Thanks love,” he said, kissing your temple, “I needed that. You should go find your seat now. I’ll find you afterwards so we can go back to the hotel.”  With an appreciative pat on your arse and an amused wink Roger headed off out of the dingy corridor, ready to play.    

[80s4life]

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

[anne-white-star]

Brian may x reader x roger taylor : holiday disaster

Notes : brian roger and reader are on a holliday near the sea swimming and relaxing. But the calm and peacefull holiday turns to one of worry when reader almost drowns because of a big wave crashing in to her. Takes place during the mid 80s. There might be inacuresies like distance and locations.

Sorry if its a mess but enjoy anyway, also don't mind any spelling mistakes thank you

Words: 2286

Warings : angst and drowning

Finaly summer and you know what that means. Nice weather, staying up late listening to music. And just playing around in general, but summer also ment swimming of course.

Y/n had invited Brian and roger along to go to the beach. John had gone away with his wife on holyday while Freddie stayed at home with his boyfriend jim.

She stood outside freddie's house where they spent the night prior and beeped the horn of her car.

Freddie opend up the window "Oh y/n are you here to pick up roger and Brian?"

"Yes i am we are suposed to go to the beach, could you sent them down?"

"Yeah sure, hey! Your taxi is here you better hurry up And don't keep the lady waiting! They are on their way" he smiled

"Thanks Fred, if i find some Nice shels i take them with me for you"

"Thank you y/n you are an absolute sweetheart" he blew her a kiss. At that moment both Brian and roger walked out the front door and placed their stuff in the back of the car. "Ah there They are".

Jim stood behind Freddie and waved "have fun you three and stay safe near the shore, they said that the waves could be quite high at this time of year".

"Don't worry we will be fine"

"Alright have fun" jim and Freddie closed the window.

"Hey boys" she grind and opend the pasenger side door. Brian sat down next to her.

"Hello y/n"

"Hello doll" said roger as he sat down behind her and kissed her cheek "Nice car"

"Thanks Roger it was my dad's car i got it for my birthday a year ago

"Oh Nice do you know what type it is?"

"If im correct its a Tri-Power… 1958 Bonneville convertible" she started the car and drove of towards the beach (idk where the beach is located but lets pretent its 30 minuts away or so)

"Oh verry Nice indeed" he said and placed his sunglasses on his face And leaned back against the Seat.

"So did you two have a good night at Fred his home?"

This time Brian spoke up "yeah it was alright we watched some telly and drank and eat some Nice food thats all."

"Hmm intresting you two wernt intruding to fred and jim their relation ship wernt you two?"

"Oh god no y/n"

"Just joking bri just joking" she laught, y/n focused on the road again "we will be there in 10 minuts i think"

"Yes finaly swimming"

"Calm down roger" Brian laught

Just as y/n had promiced they had arived in 10 minuts at the beach "We have arived". Roger jumped over the side of the car and grabed the beach ball and placed it in the sand. He pulled his shirt and pants off under it weren his swimming trunks. Brian and y/n did the same. (What you Brian and roger wear )

"Nice shorts guys" she huged Brian from behind

"Looking very Nice yourself princess"

"Why thank you" she plucked the sunglasss from roger his face and put them on "oh wow thats to mutch"

Roger grabed his glases from her hands and put them back on "that are my presciption sunglasses sweetheart"

"I should have known, Anyway lets go and play some beach vollyball"

"Alright who against who?"

"Um me against roger first and then you against roger and then me against you, how does that sound?"

"Sure sounds good, i'll keep the points"

"Alright" y/n nodded and waited thil roger was ready "you are going so down blondie"

"Ha! You think (your nickname)"

"Alright start" y/n trew up the ball and shot it over the net. It went a few times and then she shot it to the ground.

"Outch"

"Roger are you alright?"

"Yeah i am don't worry" he smiled. Once the game between y/n and roger was over she won with 5 against 3.

"Alright your turn brian" brian took her place and took his stand. "Ready?"

"Yep" he nodded

"Alright may the best win"

"Its on poodle"

"Hey! Oh you are so going to get it rog" he smirked

The boys played for about 6 minuts thill it was over. It was 4 against 4.

"Alright who makes the next point wins" they both noded, Brian threw up the ball over the net. It went over and over for about 1 minut. Roger won

"Yes!"

"Well done rog, now you and me bri" they both took their stands once again and started the game. Once again 6 minuts later the game was over Brian had won by 5 against 3

"Good game y/n" he smiled

"Thanks" she wiped her face with a towel "Man its really hot ugh"

"Want to go swimming?"

Y/n took off her hat and placed it in her car "Yes i would love to" they all walked to the sea. "Cold cold cold"

Both Brian and roger laughed "yeah no shit y/n"

"Shut up rog" she laughed and splased him

"Hey! My hair, you are going to pay"

"Then you have to get me first." She ran further in to the water

"Be carefull the waves can be quite high" but y/n and roger dint hear him "guys come back don't go to far!"

Y/n had gone in thil her shoulders "try to get me now roger!"

"Roger she really needs to come back" Brian looked concerned

"Y/n! Come back its not save!"

"What?!" All of a sudden a big shadow fell over her, a big wave crashed in to her taking her under.

"Y/n!!" Both roger and Brian screamed as they tried to get to her

Y/n tried to swim up but couldnt wave after wave crashed in on her. She tried to breath but instead she took a big gulp of water in. Y/n was panicking and couldnt breath. She thought of brian and roger how she was going to leave them behind now. Y/n let go of her last breath as the sank to the bottom.

Roger and brian swam to her once they reached her, roger went under and picked her out the water. Both Brian and roger got back to the shore "brian go get help i try cpr we need a ambulance" Brian nodded and ran to get help

"God y/n please don't die on us" roger was literaly crying while trying to push the life back in to her chest. He pinched her nose close and put mouth to mouth "come on! You can't do this to us" all the while he continued to give her cpr.

The sound of sirens filled the air as the ambulance came to a hald on the beach two paremedics climbed out. At the same time Brian ran back to roger "is she alright?!"

"No i still don't have a respond" roger was crying But still preforming cpr

"We will take it from here sir" both the paremedics placed her on the brancard and started to weel her fast to the ambulance

"Can we come with you please?"

"If you drive after us then its fine but we can't take you with us in the ambulance

"Thank you" roger looked up "brian you need to drive i can't"

"Alright, but calm down now roger she's in good hands" Brian huged roger close and rubbed his back "im concerned to but y/n is one tough cookie"

Roger laught a bit " yeah she is..... we should go now" they both walked to the car Brian put the key in and turned it so they went after the ambulance. Once they arived they weeled her in to a hospital room.

In the back of the ambulance they were able to pump the water out of her lungs and get her to breath again, she wasn't conciouse but it was a good sign or so they hope.

Roger and Brian had to wait outside the room where y/n lay because they were doing some tests on her, so they decided to call John and Freddie

"Hello John deacon speaking"

"Hey John its me"

"Oh hey Brian hows everything?"

"It really could be better, we are at the hospital"

John sat up straight "hospital? Why whats wrong?"

"Its Y/n she almost drowned" it was silence on the other end "john?"

"Im on my way right now" and the phone hang up

He turned to roger "john is on his way can you call Freddie?"

"Sure" roger grabed the phone from Brian his hand and dialed Freddie his number

It rang a few times thill he picked up "with freddie Mercury how can i help you?"

"Oh fred thank god you are still home"

"You sound panicked roger whats wrong?"

"We are in the hospital, we were at the beach and we were messing around but y/n almost drowned because of our stuppid antics and..... we almost lost her"

As same with John, roger was met by silence "me and jim are on our way"

"Thanks you see you then"

About 20 minuts later john, Freddie and jim had arived at the hospital, they were waiting for the doctor to give a clear sign so that they could go in and see her.

A doctor walked in to the waiting room "wel we have good news and bad news, the good news is we managed to get all the water out of her lungs and she's breathing on her own, the bad news is that she's still unconsiouse"

"Oh thank goodness" brian placed a hand over his heart

"We did a couple of tests to see if there was anything ells like damege to the lungs but thats not the case, once she wakes up And taken care off she can go home"

"Thank you doctor, may we please see her?"

"Of course, if there is anything needed let us know"

"Thank you we will" the group walked in to the room, it was pretty light in there, it looked like they had walked in to heaven, John and Brian grabed a chair and sat down next to the bed while roger, Jim and freddie sat down at the table near the window.

"We should never have gone to the beach, this is all my fault"

"Roger don't be to harsh on yourself, it could have happend to anyone" Freddie placed his hand on Roger his shoulder

"But im the idiot who chased her in, im at fault"

Brian spoke up "rog it really isnt we all should have been more carefull, but like the doctor said everything will be alright, she just needs to wake up, and she will we just got to wait"

"Mabey you are right" he sighed and placed his hand under his chin and looked out the window.

A few hours had gone by without any indecation of her yet waking up, so they decided to leave and get some food, during the time they were gone y/n started to stire and wake up

"Ugh were am i? Why does my chest hurt so mutch" y/n blinked a few times against the light "this isnt my bedroom" she tried to sit up but couldnt because of the pain, plastic patches were put on her chest that were conected to the heart monitor she looked at them confused "what the hell happend?" Then y/n remembered, the beach, vollyball and roger chasing her and then the wave...."Oh god i almost drowned"

Then the door opend And the guys walked in with food and drinks, Brian looked up from the conversation "y/n you are awake!" He ran to her side and grabed her hand in his "we were so worried about you"

"Hey bri" She smiled softly "im sorry for worrying you all i dint mean for this to happen"

Roger stoot at the otherside of the bed and grabed her other hand "i shouldnt have chased you in to the water it was dangerous and i was so stuppid for doing so it almost got you killed"

"I know rog and im sorry to i should have watched out What i was doing" she squeezed their hands and gave a light kiss on them

John, jim and Freddie watched as they gave echoter their apolgies, and then the doctor walked in "ah miss y/l/n good to see that you are awake" he looked at the papers in his hand "everything seems to be in oder, do your lungs hurt?"

"A tiny bit but i asume it will go away in a few days"

"Yes it wil" he gave a smile "wel then if everything is alright and nothing hurts then you may go home"

"Really? Oh thats wonderfull thank you" then she looked down at her chest and pointed at patches that were still in its place "um about these"

"Oh don't worry a nurse will come soon and remove them for you"

"Alright thank you". About 10 minuts later the nurse came in to remove the patches, john freddie and jim had brought some clothes with them on their way to the hospital, once she got dressed they went on their way to go home "are you willing to drive Brian?"

"Yes of course i am, anything for you y/n". Roger went again with Brian and y/n while Jim and Freddie went with john.

"Wel see you all later i think its time for a lazy afternoon" said y/n as she waved them goodbye. Both roger and Brian stayed the night with her to make sure that everything would be going fine now. They promiced echoter that of they would go to the beach again one day that they would be more carefull.

The end

I hope you all enjoyed reading. ♥️♥️♥️

[natromanxoff]

22 - Cars & Queenie Days

Hi there Queenie people.

What a strange little weekend this one turned out to be. Let me start by saying that most of my stories seem to have something to do with alcohol, but we were all a hell of a lot younger then, and I for one cannot do that anymore, well not all the time. Although a few days ago an old friend made a guest appearance, the Kurgen was let loose on the streets of Bondi which seemed to start a string of Queen type events. It all started about midday on Saturday when a friend of mine phoned and suggested lunch, what a fantastic idea as it was a lovely hot sunny day, so we met in a nice place with a garden and ordered the first bottle of wine, and it was the Linda Lovelace of vino, it went down very quickly and easily. During the course of the afternoon I phoned my mate Steve and said he should join us, which he did at about 8pm, and we finally moved indoors to have dinner, after sitting in the sun and guzzling wine for the last six hours, and needless to say I'm pissed so we ordered some more food and what turned out to be the last bottle of plonk for the evening.

Half way through dinner Rebecca decided she was to out of it to continue, and wisely went home, leaving the Kurgen and his mate, who has decided he's gonna catch up with me, what a good friend eh, but him getting drunk means me becoming a complete gibbering idiot. After dining we moved next door to the bar where the whisky was flowing very rapidly and the idiot telling one barmaid she looked like a cheap hooker, while swearing his undying love to another. Oh, get me another drink Steve, I think I need one. It finally gets to 1am and time to head home, it's been a long day, and while trying to negotiate the 10min walk I was complaining that my right leg wouldn't work, usual drunken crap.

What has this got to do with Queen I hear you ask, well, apart from the fact that a million years ago I worked for them for a while, not very much. Steve and myself eventually got back to my place and I got phoneitis and I had the need to speak with everyone from my dodgey past, so, phone book out and lets go. Pride of place went to Mr Deacon who was lucky to be speaking on the phone so the Kurgen, after two tries, couldn't get through. Time up for you pal, next. Broughie. He always calls me when he's legless, now it's his turn to try and decipher what I'm on about. When I got through to Trip I can remember saying, "Where the f*** are you?" And do you know what, I have no idea what the answer was, though he did say they cancelled a couple of shows, and everyone was having a great time. This is fun, lets spend some more money. The next call started with, "Mr Taylor, it's Mr Taylor here." Sorry Rog, but you did pick up the phone. I did tell him I'd listened to his new stuff on his website and it's the best stuff he'd done in years, and I have an awful feeling I said that I didn't like 'Happiness,' but he did say that he reads my memoirs, so if you get to see this Mr T. I'll try and be a bit more sober next time I call.

Jacky followed, phone was busy (No it wasn't, we were out, you left a message!!) , gotta move on, I'm on a roll now. A new game, lets try and track down my ex in LA, no luck, thank god, and with that my new accountant Steve took the phone away from me, thanks dear boy. He clears off around 3 and I hit the sack and descend into a coma. Ring ring.....ring ring. Its 9am, who the f*** is phoning in the middle of the night, so, with head pounding I track the phone down and had to raise a bit of a giggle, it's Broughie and now he's pissed and he told me that in nearly twenty years of knowing me, that is the worst he's ever heard me try and talk, to which I reply that this is the worst I've ever felt.

Spandau's Tony Hadley was the next person I speak to, what a diamond geezer, always nice to chat with him. Sunday was a non-existent day with a phone that had no sympathy for me and kept ringing, amazingly it's still in one piece. A wet Monday and I'm still feeling a bit iffy, but come afternoon I receive a package in the post, I like little surprises, so when I walk in and turn the radio on Bo Rap is playing, and when I open my pressie it's from the ever gorgeous Jacky who has very kindly sent me RT's Electric Fire. You know what I mean, his new CD not the electric fire out of his bedroom. I'm glad I told him it was great, cause it is, in my humble opinion, possibly the best thing he's done. That was a hell of a lot of words just to say " go and buy Electric fire and put it in the charts, you won't be disappointed".

I was chatting with Greg Fryer, the fireplace restorer, and we're both looking forward to the Australian convention in a few weeks, although I might be drinking lemonade as I made the idiot promise that "I'm never drinking again". Some time ago somebody asked me a question which went something like, "When you were in the studio with just Roger or the Cross, was it a bit of an anti climax after working with Queen as they were such brilliant musicians." I don't know if I'm missing something here, but as Roger was a solo artist, a member of the Cross and also in Queen, surely that must make him brilliant. Well, whatever your name was, no it wasn't boring it was mostly fun. When he was producing other acts I must admit that I did a lot of sitting around doing bugger all, and I every act were ok as people, though once Jimmy Nail had a hit he did get a rather large ego and changed into a real prat.

Virginia Wolf had two old buddies of mine in the band, Joe Burt and Jason Bonham, so when we went to Ibiza to record it was party time from start to finish, though Jason did go overboard a bit, so to protect us more than him we sent him back to England. I was only involved in one Cross album, Shove It, and that was just going to be another RT solo album so he played all the instruments himself.

I think I've mentioned before that we drove the Bentley to Montreux, well this was the time. The plan was to spend three or four days in Montreux recording then go to Gstaad to write some more songs. That was the excuse because we had a huge chalet there and the idea was to do a lot of skiing and a bit of writing, which is exactly what we did. It was in Gstaad that Roger came up with the idea of forming a band, and after a hard day on the slopes we would sit around at night working out a plan on putting a band together. On the subject of Bentleys and Gstaad I feel obliged to tell you just how much bad luck RT has with his cars.

When he bought his first Range Rover he claimed "You can park them on a sixpence." We had to tow him out of a ditch. His Ferrari burst into flames on his way to the south of France, and his Aston Martin also burst into flames. He hardly ever drove the Bentley, it was my baby and I loved it and never had any problems. Dominique decided she was going to join our little ski trip and was coming to Gstaad, now don't get me wrong, I love Dom, a fine lady, still is, it's just that I didn't fancy the hour drive down the mountain and then the hour along the motorway to the airport. On the day of her arrival RT surprised me by saying he was going to pick her up, that'll do me, drop me off at the chair lift and have a nice drive. A very pleasant afternoon was spent on the piste so when I get back to the house I'm ready for some mindless computer games, and while in the middle of shooting some aliens the phone rings and it's Dominique asking where Roger was as he's not at the airport to pick her up.

The only thing I can say is for her to hang on because he left in plenty of time so he should be there, and I'm back to saving the world. Hours later the door flies open with Roger ranting and raving and saying something about F-in-cars. What's his problem? I look out the window and in the driveway is a VW Golf, so the obvious question is, "Where's the Bentley?" When his lordship finally calmed down he explained that when he got to the motorway there was a blizzard, so he had to have the windscreen wipers on full, but the one on the drivers side came off, so he stopped the car and was groping around in the snow looking for it, and he found it and put it back on. So far so good, except a couple of miles further on it came off again, and this time it was nowhere to be seen. Now try and picture the situation. Swiss motorway, lots of snow falling, very expensive black Bentley and a very famous pop star hanging out the window while driving so he can wipe the snow off the screen so he can see. Not a very good look at all.

On arrival at Geneva he took the car to the Rolls Royce dealer to get fixed, and it wasn't long after this that I said my final goodbye to a trusty friend. Roger on the other hand said Good F***ing Riddance. I have an equally pathetic driving story when we were in Rio, this time it was the two of us, a convertible and one hell of a lot of rain. Next time might be right to tell you how we put the Cross together from the first ad. onwards. Before I go I have a question for Jacky. Do you remember all those bacon sandwiches we had at the auditions? That's it for now Bye

Crystal

[doodle-pops]

You Never Know Until You Try

Egalmoth x reader

Request: Hiii! Thank you for all you do! You’re doing an amazing work! I only have one concern… There isn’t a lot of Egalmoth, is there? Would you consider writing him confessing his love - if you have time and energy? 🙆🏼‍♀️🌼 - anon

A/N: Thank you for this request anon. Since you did not inform me of whether you wanted this confession all fluff, I was in an angsty mood (terrible, ik), and had preplanned a more heartbreaking confession because I'm evil. But, I changed it and decided to be nice while keeping the angst I was drowning in. I also gave him a Quenya name because I needed to use a nickname and using shortened versions of Egalmoth wasn't cutting it.

Warnings: Gondolin already fell, silent confession, beliefs of one-sided love, crying, mentions of deceased characters, a bit of angst with comfort, small fluff scene, hurt/comfort (?)

Word: 2.2k

Synopsis: Words and the truth were never hard things for Egalmoth, but when years rolled by and uncertainty developed, it was time to say his untold truth.

Note: Egalmoth — [S. sharp uprising flower (helmet plume)], Aicambalotsë — [Q. sharp uprising flower (maica – sharp, piercing + ambalotsë – uprising flower (helmet plume)].

Awoken from a mysterious dream, Egalmoth sat hunched on the opposite end of the bed gauging the raindrops that collided with the roof before torrential rainfall can crashing down on the earth. The sweet earthen scent of the rich soil and flowers waffled through his nose as the mighty wind howled throughout the late evening into the night. At first, the wind howled, then it screamed before composing itself and became a sharp whistle that played musical flute with the miniature holes in the cabin. If Gondolin was still standing, conditions such as the one he currently considered his chambers would never be dilapidated. The finest marble and granite along with jewels of great radiance would adorn every inch of his estate.

The walls would be opalescence, even the arches and fountains he would ask his good friend Ecthelion to design for him. The accomplished crafting of his dear friend Rog and Lomion would fashion the most magnificent gems for him to decorate his house in, and yet still, even when he had all those things, he was empty. He had nothing but the reminder of his House that survived the fall, his dear friend Lord Galdor, Lord Tuor, the princess and her son. Having half the citizens surviving was a relief, but what was survival if he had lost many of those who meant the most to him. Someone would tell him to stop sulking and be grateful that he was alive, that you were alive.

You.

The first person he rushed to save in the fall before anyone else, and the last person he had the guts to profess his love for. Would you accept his confession and love given the state his house was in now? Living in a refugee camp, there were no riches that anyone could have. Everything went into food and shelter. Surely you want someone who could provide resourceful materials for you and not bare scrap?

He turned to his right and watched as you rolled over on your left side and dragged the blanket over your head to block out the whistling wind. The smile that stretched on his face was far from contentment, but relief that you were alive and here with him. Somehow, you had managed to stay at his side after the fall, sticking around and assisting him with pulling his house and people together.

Long nights were spent sitting beside the fireplace reminiscing on old memories of your time in Gondolin, while others were simply silent. Just basking in each other’s presence and being glad you were alive. To this day, he still hadn’t expressed the unconditional love that was buried hundreds of feet deep within his heart.

Staring at your back with a longing expression on his face, he sulked and frowned. His body slouched as his right leg was folded on the bed while the other hung. Peeking over your shoulders to ensure that you were asleep, he gulped before processing his thoughts and speaking with himself.

“You know, I wish I had the guts to tell you I loved you during our happy days. I still do, but… When you were filled with mirth and light in your eyes,” he sniffled as he felt the first teardrop rolling down his cheek. Breathing deeply and halting his speech, he reached up to wipe his eyes, but the action was a catalyst for a chain reaction that prompted more tears to burst forth from his eyes. They flowed easily down his face, staining his skin with guilt, sorrow and regret.

Casting his head to look at the window and stare into the abyss through the sheer curtain, he sniffled and wiped at his eyes aggressively, wanting to remove his agony. No matter how much he rubbed his eyes, a torrential flow poured until he cried out in frustration and heaved in defeat. Looking down at his shaky hands throw the blurred eyes, he could see how much his hands had changed from then to now. These weren’t hands he could touch and love you with, these were hands that required hiding from the world. Egalmoth felt foolish opening up his heart when you weren’t conscious of his eternal love.

The love that would move mountains or split the ocean or make him sprout wings and soar above the clouds. He would give his life to save you in a heartbeat, heck, he’d give you his heart if it was the key to saving your life. He understood you loved him as a friend, but you had never given him the alert of loving him more. There were always talks of Lord Glorfindel or Lord Duilin, but never him on a pedestal the way you did for others. Perhaps it was best to let his heart flow with strings of fate and dance to the tune his fёa guided him to perform.

Exhaling, he turned once more to you and spoke again, “I still remember the first time I saw you. You were walking through the city giving out flower crowns to the citizens for Lost-na-Lothion and I had boldly requested one from you. You ignored the fact that I was a great Lord and denied me. Ay, I had never fallen for someone as daring as you. You were what I needed, a breath of fresh air in my boring life. You came in and knocked me off my high horse and turned my entire life around... I had never loved someone as much as I loved you.”

He paused to check on you and saw that you were still asleep, this time with your mouth slightly half opened and soft snores slipping out. You were never a heavy snorer, but when you decided to snore, it scared Egalmoth more than anything. He assumed you were suffocating in your sleep.

“Ah, you’re snoring in my head when I’m confessing my love to you. Tsk, terrible manners Y/N,” he mocked and shook his head. He was pleased when no teardrop splashed on his skin as he did so; the torrential waterworks had ceased.

“I always wondered if I was your first choice when it came to loving anyone? Most of the time, people rushed to Lord Glorfindel or Lord Ecthelion, the more handsome Lords. Even Lord Galdor and Penlod had their turn with people flocking to them,” he depressingly snickered, “had I ever been a choice for you at all? I know you stick…stick…around, but does it mean you love me more than friendship?”

Biting down on his bottom lip as it quivered, he could prevent the fresh flow of tears from cascading down his cheeks. He did nothing to cease its movement as it travelled over every hill and dip and ran off the edges to soil his nightwear. Sniffles soon transformed into muffled sobs, anything to swallow his anguish of a possible broken heart. He needed to get it off his chest otherwise he would combust, but when forces of greater evil barricaded his voice and pinned him under piles of rubble, how could he call out to capture your attention one last time.

“Please…I’m sorry. I’m s-…sorry that I couldn’t be g-good enough to catch your eye and m-…make you happy. Had you ever a moment in your heart where you felt s-something for m-me?” He forcibly smiled through his tears, still time looking at his folded leg. His left hand was muffling his sobs and words while the right picked and tugged the fabric of his trousers. Egalmoth was trembling from the hurricane of emotions, turbulently swirling and causing destruction and anguish in his heart the more and more he came out with his words.

Weren’t confessions customarily sweet and merry? There was sunshine and warm blue skies as far as the eyes can eyes and rainbows ahead. A field of daffodils or perhaps sunflowers and tulips as the declaration of love rang bells in the background. Where was all this and how was his heart and whistling choruses of everlasting love?

“You were always my first love Ambalotsё.”

The sound of the sheets crumpling nearby and the bed vibrating as your body turned to face him resounded. Stilling and growing soundless, a dreadful look was thrown at you before mouthless stammering followed. You didn’t move from your spot, not having the energy to haul yourself into a sitting position, so you opted to lie with the blankets over you and cast him a welcoming smile to calm his storm. You could see his sea–green eyes swirling an array of colours and switching from light tones to dark hues as confusion continued to take him.

“I wasn’t asleep if that’s what you were thinking. I heard your entire soliloquy; I didn’t know you were so poetic Lotsё,” you breathed. Sleep was still troubling your mind, but you were willing to push back the heavy curtains and care for your weeping flower.

His heart trembled and clenched at his shorted name. It was always perfect falling from your lips. Calling him your flower.

He breathed, then darted his eyes to the left and then back at you then to your pillow. He breathed again. All his words were lost, and no comprehension or coherency was left behind to work with. The most he could do was squeeze out a curt question. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed and your head cocked. Why didn’t I interrupt him, or why did I not say anything from the start? Opening your mouth to respond, the drizzling rain presented itself in the most inopportune of time to burst forth its bellies with thunderous blasts of rain. For a moment, you assumed the roofs would give away from all the groaning and singing it was performing under the weight of water. It made you growl and roll your eyes at the insolent attempt of averting your earnest response.

Forcing your body into an upright position, the blanket felt at your waist and Egalmoth could see the little scars that rested on your shoulders and arms, mostly from the fall. He quickly averted his eyes from your sleepy face and watched as your lips parted to flow the words he longed to hear.

“I have always loved you, just as you have always loved me. I didn’t think at the time, due to our closeness, a formal declaration was needed; we were pretty much attached to each other at the hip. There was never any need for me to look elsewhere since I had found you,” you paused to reach forward and hold his right hand in yours, “I wasn’t aware of the looming uncertainty in your heart since I was hoping you would make the first move, but you didn’t, Lotsё.”

“But what about when you would speak of Lord Duilin or Glorfindel. Did you not find interest in them?”

Shaking your head and denying his assumption, you clarified. “I used to mock their weird attempts at swooning people. Pointing out their best traits they could use and how foolish they were to not,” you chuckled while recalling the memory.

Trailing his eyes to your hand holding his, he whispered too soft for a mortal ear to account for, but loud enough for you, “So…we were simply two lovers foolishly waiting on the other? Had I not been uncertain about your eyes on me…”

“Had I not been so foolishly blind by your desire for reassurance, yes, things could have been.” Holding his hand, you rubbed your thumb against his skin in circles before leaning down to kiss the back of his wrist. You heard the intake of breath and grinned against his skin before planting another. As you straightened up, you dragged his hand across the bed and tugged his body along to climb under the warmth of the comforter and fill the void beside you.

Settling beside you, his body was pressed against yours, head on your chest and arms were thrown around your waist. He clung to you like a child in need of a bedtime story to sedate his nightmares. But even Egalmoth felt like all this was too good to be true and he would awake from the best dream Irmo had been kind to deliver. “Was I truly your first choice?” he meekly asked.

“You are my first, last and only choice—have been and will always be Lotsё. I could never pick another,” you cooed while cradling his head and stroking his silvery tresses. His body visibly sagged and snuggled into you the more your nails scraped across his scalp.

“I was such a fool for waiting this long to reveal my heart to you.”

“Consider us both fools,” you laughed, “can you imagine the other Lords shaking their heads. They’re probably swearing at us.”

Groaning at the thought of one of his friends being disappointed at his hesitation, he buried his head deeper into your chest. “Lord Penlod is most definitely hurling a stack of papers and an ink bottle at me right now. I can feel the side of my head aching.”

Breaking into a steady laughter, it was the most laughing you had done in a long while. Both your days were always filled with attending to the citizens as best as you could. You considered this moment to be a break from reality and a dip into paradise. Crips waters and breeze—almost tasting it on your tongue—blue skies with small puffs of clouds and in the distance, you can hear the thunderous pounding of water and sight a familiar satisfied silver hair male.

“I accept your love Aicambalotsë.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane

[impala666]

The One With The Boobies Part Two (Ronnie)

I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me!!!!!!

Last Part (Part One), Series Masterlist 

Joey was very angry. Very very angry and confused and you could tell by how hard he was slicing into the mushrooms that he was preparing for all of you to have for dinner. At first you kept on trying to sneak away and hide in Joey’s room or leave the apartment because you thought that this conversation should be between Joey and his dad. But Joey had a different opinion, because every time that you actually got close to leaving, he would call out for you to stay. So now, there you were sitting uncomfortably at the counter, watching Joey cook, while his dad tried to explain himself to his only son. “Her name’s Ronni.” Joey’s dad decided to start off with what you hoped wasn’t an ice breaker, because that would have been the worst one ever. “She’s a pet mortician.” You narrowed your eyes in confusion at the odd job title. But you decided to put all of your uncomfortableness aside and try to get Joey to talk to his father. When Joey looked up, he saw that look on your face when you wanted him to do something or say something; eyebrows rose and head slightly tilted to the side. At first Joey rolled his eyes at you, but then decided that you were right. 

“Sure.” Joey played along. “So how long you been..?” But he just couldn’t bring himself to ask, his father was cheating on his mother for goodness sake. How was anyone supposed to react to that?

“Remember when you were a little kid and I used to take you to the Navy Yard?” Joey’s dad asked him, 

“Since then?” Joey’s face completely fell into sorrow as his voice rose high. 

“No. It’s only been six years. I just wanted to put a nice memory in your head so you’d know that I wasn’t always such a terrible guy.” Joey Sr. tried to make Joey feel better as his father came to stand next to you. But apparently anything that the man was going to say was going to make Joey feel any better. You just wished you could be there for him, right now. But he and his dad needed to work through this. So you would just be a helpful bystander. “Joe,” his dad placed his hand on Joey’s hand so that he would stop chopping and look up at him, “you ever been in love?” You looked from father to son with a smile on your face just knowing what he was about to say because Joey was. 

“I don’t know,” was all Joey answered. And you felt your smile fall into a deep frown, and losing all expression on your face. You felt frozen, numb. It made it worse when Joey’s dad looked at you, clearly not expecting that from his son either. 

“Then I guess you haven’t.” Joey’s dad told him trying to push past the awkward, but to you it felt like you were just smacked in the face. Then got your heart ripped out and stomped on. “You’re burning your tomatoes.” His dad changed the subject. 

“You’re one to talk.” Joey scoffed at his father.

“Okay, seriously?” You couldn’t help but blurt out. “You’re just going to gloss over that little bit there?” You asked staring at Joey’s back as he added.

“Look, Y/N, can we just talk about this later?” Joey hinted to you that he didn’t want to have this conversation with his dad in the room of all people. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. Whenever you want.” You sarcastically told him in a fake happy voice. But if you weren’t going to get an explanation, then you didn’t think you could be in the apartment. Whether your “boyfriend” needed you or not. “You two just finished your conversation and I’m just gonna head out. Sound good?” You hissed, looking up at Joey with a look that meant you were pissed off and hurt. Not being able to stand another second in the apartment, you quickly grabbed your jacket and quickly made your way to the door making sure to slam it behind you. So you wouldn’t hear Joey calling out your name, but of course he didn’t go after you. 

*******

You were acting like a teenager. You were supposed to go over to Monica and Rachel’s but you were scared to, you weren’t sure if you were ready to see Joey. But you guessed that you didn’t have to talk to him, plus you had run out of places to go. So you sucked in a deep breath and let it out as you grabbed on to the door handler of apartment 20 and made your way inside. “Hey,” Monica smiled to greet you, but it immediately fell when she saw your blood shot eyes and frown on your face. Clearly you had been crying. “You alright?” Monica asked, her voice filled with concern causing Ross, Rachel, Joey, and your brother to look over at you. But you made eye contact with Joey, and felt your heart break again. 

“I’m fine.” You spoke plainly not breaking your eye contact with Joey.  Clearly you were lying, but you clearly did not want to talk about it so everyone else just let it go. But Chandler kept looking between you and Joey, then he opened his arms for you as you walked over to him on the chair and quickly wrapped your arms around his waist. “What were you guys talking about before I got here?” You asked just to change the weird and sad energy in the room. 

“Oh, since Chandler saw my breasts then I get to see his PP.” Rachel smiled at you proudly.

“Oh, well. I’m glad we settle things around here like the adults that we are.” You joked as the rest of them nodded in agreement. The buzzer to the front door went, so Monica went to let whoever it was up. While everyone else was talking, Joey cautiously sat forward on his spot on the couch, and cautiously looked up at you as he held on to his jar of peanut butter. 

“Y/N/N, Y/N.” Joey called for you and you reluctantly looked down at him as you leaned against Chandler. “Can we talk for a second?”

“No,” was all you said before you got up and sat yourself in one of the chairs that was placed in front of the window just so you could sit by yourself for a little bit and stare out at the view. 

“It’s Phoebe!” Phoebe told Monica through the intercom.

“And Rog!” The man that Phoebe had been seeing also announced. 

“Come on up!” Monica told her, buzzing Phoebe in.

“Oh, good, Rog is here.” Chandler cheered sarcastically.

“What’s the matter with Rog?” Joey asked for everyone. 

“Oh nothing. Just a little thing. I hate that guy.” Chandler complained. 

“Come on. So he was a little analytical. It’s his job.” Ross told Chandler, just trying to defend the guy. But it turned out that Ross was about to be proven oh so wrong.

You weren’t sure why Ross was yelling at Phoebe’s new boyfriend, but you were distracted when you noticed Joey coming over and sitting in the chair next to you. “Are you ready to talk now?” Joey asked as he kept digging into his jar of peanut butter with just his finger. 

“I’ve been ready to talk,” you fired back quietly so that the others didn’t hear. “You don’t love me?” You asked him.

“I don’t know,” Joey shrugged. “I thought I did.” You couldn’t help the scoff that came out of your mouth. 

“Well, this isn’t something you think about Joey. You either do or you don’t, and you don’t which is fine. But why did you say that you did?” You asked, just needing to know why he kept telling you that he loved you if he really didn’t.

“Because I really did feel it at the time, plus I knew it was what you wanted to hear. But I guess I don’t anymore.” Joey shrugged. Joey felt his heart break as looked at you as you hid your face and felt tears rolling down your cheeks

“Yeah,” I guess you don’t,” your voice muffled as you bit onto your bottom lip to keep from sobbing.

“So are we still together? What do you wanna do?” Joey asked. You couldn’t even believe he was asking you that. What the hell was he thinking?

“No. No, we’re not. As much as I loved and for some reason still love you, yeah we are. We’re done.” You spoke your final words. Officially breaking up with Joey, as much as it broke your heart

“Hey, what’s going on?” Chandler asked with a friendly smile, which fell when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. He looked at Joey in confusion and a little bit of anger. “You okay?” Chandler put a hand on your shoulder and bent down to be face to face with you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. Chandler could tell you were lying, but you clearly didn’t want to talk about it. So he just decided to save it until the three of you got back across the hall. “Is Rog, the creep gone?” You asked since you had heard all of the offensive stuff that he said to Monica. 

“Yeah, he is. Come on guys, let's go home.” Chandler grabbed your hand and pulled you up and into his side as Joey got up and followed him with a solemn face. 

“Good night you guys.” Joey smiled a fake smile at Monica and Rachel, before the three of you went to make your way across the hall. Chandler was about to ask what was going on, but was a little distracted by the grown woman that was sitting at their door. 

“Oh, look. It’s the woman we ordered.” Chandler joked to the both of you, mostly trying to cheer you up. 

“Hey, can we help you?” Joey asked, as the woman looked up at you three as she munched on her snack. 

“Aw, no thanks. I’m just waiting for Joey Tribbiani.” The woman told you. Chandler and Joey looked at each other and shared a smile. 

“Um, I’m Joey Tribbiani.” Joey flashed her a polite smile as he gestured to himself. 

“Oh, no, not you.” The woman explained as she got up from the floor. “Big Joey. Oh, my god! You’re so much cuter than your pictures.” As the woman continued to talk to more frozen Joey’s face had become. “I’m Ronni. Cheese nip?” She offered him trying to soothe the tension. 

“Uh, Joey’s having an embolism, but I’d go for a nip.” Chandler smiled, trying to help her out and relieve the awkwardness as he reached forward and grabbed himself a cheese nip from Ronnie’s bag, as you couldn’t stop but looking at Joey’s face. You guess he was going to have an even worse night.

[ineloqueent]

the weight of the world

Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

gif credit bc i do not have that kind of talent (x)

synopsis: Roger’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or maybe it’s just the drumming.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: ‘self-control’ is not in my vocabulary, and so this is based off of all those times roger has done that thing where he pushes his hand under his shirt and rubs his shoulder because poor bby drums too much okay bye

⭒

Working in catering certainly had its benefits.

For one, it meant that you got to see the members of a very well-known band on a daily basis, greeting them as casually as friends. 

For another thing, it meant that Roger Taylor frequently professed his undying love for you. 

Well, okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly how he put it, but that was what it sounded like. 

Studio sessions that spanned both days and nights commanded the sort of dedication and attention of the musicians which meant that they frequently forewent the basics of life in order to get something done. For instance, once, when they hadn’t finished until three o’clock in the morning, they had left the studio yawning and slumping, John muttering something about having entirely missed both lunch and dinner. But you’d been there to hand out jam sandwiches, even when every other tech and crew member had gone home for the night. Because in a way, you felt it your duty to take care of the four boys. They really were like teenagers— up at all hours, doing whatever the hell they wanted, forgetting to eat when they weren’t reminded. 

Roger was the worst of all, leaving the studio last and stopping on the kerbside to stare aimlessly into the distance, a jacket slung over one arm as a hand rubbed his other shoulder. He always looked dazed when he left, overly exhausted, from the hunch of his gait to the way his head dropped slightly to his chest when he didn’t pay heed to hold it upright. 

He would stand there and breathe in the crisp night air, and from a distance, you would stand and wait for him to be on his way before you went on yours, because you didn’t entirely trust him to not wander off in the wrong direction, lost in his drowsy haze. 

From afar, you would see him off, a guardian angel standing watch in the shadows for the flaxen-haired musician who would sigh and let the silence carry away his woe. 

And in the morning, when he turned up with a crooked grin and dark sunglasses, and accepted the plate of breakfast you offered to him, you smiled back and pretended you knew nothing of how the world weighed on his shoulders. 

You would enter the studio with the announcement of lunch, and Queen would slowly gather themselves together and file out the door and into the daylight. 

Roger would ruffle your hair and call you his favourite crew member as he passed you, or settle for a wink and a remark about how nice it was to see his best girl. 

When you knocked to bring the intrusion of coffee, Roger would leap up. 

“Sweetheart, you’re a lifesaver!”

You tutted, “It’s just coffee, Roger.”

You handed Freddie and Brian their black coffees, and John his with one sugar, and finally Roger his. 

“Oh, but you remembered my one-and-three-sevenths.” He canted his head to one side and pouted softly, in a manner which more resembled a child than a 36-year-old man. “Thank you.”

You shrugged, repeated yourself. “It’s just coffee.”

Roger only shook his head. 

One incident that stood out to you in particular was the recording of ‘One Vision’, in which Roger and Freddie argued back and forth concerning a certain line and the drum fill to go with it, losing each other repeatedly in the translation from word to rhythm, and vice versa. 

The day had been spent in laughter, but now that night was settling in, the four of them were growing tired and short-tempered. And stressed. 

Roger was stressed, you could tell. 

He was bouncing up and down in his chair, tapping his foot against the pedal of the kick drum even when it wasn’t necessary, and subsequently being scolded by Freddie when he ruined a take because of it. 

Between lapses of thought, he rubbed at his eyes, and kept his sunglasses on even then, slouching and batting away a yawn like a tired kitten helplessly batting at string. 

His favourite habit, it seemed, was to slip his hand into the folds of his shirt to rub at his shoulder, rolling his neck as his fingers found his pulse. Whether he did it purposely or absently, you weren’t sure, but the creases between his eyes made you want to walk over to him and take his hands and demand he leave to get some rest. 

You finally did, on an evening when the others had gone out for a beer but Roger had insisted on staying late in order to finish something he claimed he just couldn’t get down. 

He didn’t notice you leaning against the doorframe with folded arms, until his drumming gave way to a sigh and his usual habit and you wandered over. 

“Your shoulders hurt, don’t they?”

He startled at the sound of your voice, but his easy demeanour returned when he realised your presence. 

He flashed you a smile as brief as the face of a coin catching light, and nodded. 

Then he yawned, sleepily fluttering his eyelashes. “Sorry,” he said. “Awfully tired and not even close to done.”

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s past midnight,” you told him gently. 

“And..?”

“Roger,” you said. “You’ve got to take care of yourself. You can’t just be up at all hours, going without food and rest, because then you’ll be running on empty when it really matters.”

He sighed again, and you eyed him pitifully. 

“And how do I do that?” he asked you then, in a curiously honest manner, peering at you over the drum kit with that tilted head and those big, blue eyes. 

“Let me help,” you murmured. At his nod, you slipped between the wall and the drums to join him behind the fortress of instruments. 

He swivelled on his stool to face you, but you shook your head and walked around behind him. 

Slowly, you pulled his hand away from his chest, laying his fingers on his knee instead. Then you placed your hands on his shoulders and began to apply a gentle pressure.

He hissed through his teeth at the contact, muscles tensing. But when you made so as to pull back, he stopped you, turning his head till the pale stubble of his jaw brushed your hand. 

“Don’t stop,” he said quietly, and his exhale fanned across your skin. 

A tingle skittered along your arms, your own shoulders growing tense as the knots you intended to ease from Roger’s. 

You’d never touched him before, save for a handshake upon initial introduction, where you’d threaded your fingers with his and stared at him a little too deeply for a little too long, when the heat of his skin had briefly become yours.

But now he relaxed beneath your hands as you pushed the heels of your palms into his upper back, working the strain from his muscles with a steady rhythm. It came to the point where he was leaning against you, his back pressed to your torso and thighs as you rubbed his shoulders, and a soft groan escaped his lips. 

“Alright, Rog?” you asked. 

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Your hands are cold.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no.. It's nice,” he said. “You’re nice.” He sat up and turned around, and your hands slipped from his shoulders, reluctantly. He looked up at you. “Why are you so nice to me, Y/N?”

You drew a breath to speak, but then closed your mouth promptly because you did not know what to say. 

His eyes were wide, even behind his sunglasses, and you longed to slip them from his nose so that you might stare into that lovely abyss of blue. 

You glanced down. 

Why were you nice to him? 

Because he knew when a joke would lighten the mood of the room, or when a simple smile was better suited to the situation. Because he was stupidly stubborn and always upheld his morals, even when it lost him no end to points in popularity. Because he knew what to say, and when to say nothing at all. Because his eyes lit up when someone remembered how he liked his coffee; he was touched by the intimacy of how they had memorised a piece of his soul. And memorised a piece of his soul you had, for shards of it came to you when your thoughts wandered or when your head grew empty and your heart more so, plagued by the loneliness inherent to your being. Because he worked harder than anyone you’d ever met before, and though he claimed to have no modesty whatsoever, his humility was as much a part of his being as loneliness was of yours.

“Because you deserve to have people be nice to you.”

He laughed, “But that’s not your job, love. Your job is catering and generally putting up with us and our silliness, but no one said you had to be nice.”

You smiled slowly. “Well, I’ll stop being nice, then.”

Your words were met with silence, and you raised your eyes. 

Roger was gazing up at you.

“I like you being nice to me.” 

His voice had suddenly a gentle husky quality to it, a roughened edge to its highness, and at his unblinking stare, your breath hitched in your throat and a flush of heat spread through you.

Then he dragged you down to him and his lips caught on yours, sending a spark of flame to your skin, the feel of a match struck between your mouths. You were vaguely aware of the gentle pressure of his fingers at your waist, but for all else you were lost, because Roger smelt of soap and rain and ink and earth, and tasted of spun sugar and memories of summertime. 

His kiss was firm, but he yielded to you when you pulled him up to stand, emitting only a faint whine when your lips briefly eluded his. He needn’t have worried; you curled your arms around his neck and nudged him closer, and he held you against him like a tide pulling you out to sea, though you felt more sound in his arms than you ever would have atop the rolling waves. 

His touch was dizzying, and you swayed when he drew back, pressing his soft, wetted lips together as his eyes flicked over you.

“Sorry,” he murmured dazedly, his hands falling away from you. “I— don’t know what came over me—”

You tugged on the open collar of his shirt, bringing him to you so that your noses brushed and your words fluttered across his lips. “It was good, Rog.”

He inhaled sharply, and his breath set your senses alight, hyper-tuned to his movements.

“I like you too,” you whispered, curling your fingers into the baby hairs at the base of his neck.

He leaned into your touch with a contented hum, “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year.”

You smiled against his pretty lips when he kissed you again, intoxicating and bruising, yet comforting and sure. 

Sure, because never in your life had you been surer of anything than the sweetness of his mouth on yours. 

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ミ✰ 

–ben hardy!roger taylor alert bubs uwu

˖◛⁺⑅♡

[𝟏] roger walking in your house that you renewed and realigned while he was on tour; amusing at your nice sense of fashion.

❝ –aye, darling, what have you done to our house? –roger stepped in, looking around: the pink walls was replaced with tender cream-colored ones, and the lamp that you've never liked was now gone, on the place of it was a pretty, gems-full chandelier. you nudged him, giving him a full, tender kiss, licking his upper lip, roger growls when the two of you break apart. –i hoped you will like it. i don't even showed you the bedroom... –you tease him between two kisses, making a little scratching-move on the nape of his neck. –nevermind, i love it anyway –he smirks, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, barely waiting to inaugurate the whole new set. ❞

[𝟐] roger tries to write you a poem to impress you, really trying so hard.

❝ –this gotta be the best one i've ever wrote. bri, john, can i read you from it? –yeah, yeah, of course –brian nodded, shrugging his shoulders at john's glare. –okay, so... –he began to read the sentences, seemed to be like he found it fairly good. –...you call me sweet, like i'm some kind of cheese. john almost spat the gulp of the coffee out, looking away to search something serious to find, and not to tear out a big laugh, while brian just furrowed his brows, finding very... interesting the last line. –so? did you like it? do you think that y/n gonna like it? –do you really want to compare yourself to some... cheese? –it's a metaphor, brian! and i think she's gonna love it. she says sometimes i'm cheesy. –OH MY GOD? REALLY? –john tried to calm himself down, roger kept up his imagination. –either way, it's much better than i'min love with my car... –bRiAN!! ❞

[𝟑] you and roger met your disloyal, untrue ex at one of freddie's party. the guy cheated on you several times, you gave him a second chance but only after the break-up got to know with how many girls did you shared him

❝ –don't worry babe, he don't matter to you, and he can't hurt you –roger squeezes your hand, glaring at your ex like some piece of shit when he passes by with his new girlfriend, stopping a little bit when he notices you by your new boyfriend's side. you want to disappear, the conflict resolution never were your biggest advantage. –ooh, what a sweet surprise! y/n, how are you doing now? it's been so long time... –he begins, roger pulls closer you to him.   –so much better now that you're out of her life –roger speaks up instead of you. –roger is the new boy? how cool, really... is she still good in the bed? because carla is really, really good –you hold roger's arm, trying to save the situation. please, you look at him, but your ex already go ahead. you sigh in relief, but roger yells after him. –she's better than your overused bints, you cheater scum! –then, he turns to you, brushing your hair, comforting your nerves. –are you alright, baby? we can go home, if you want. you nodded, going out to the balcony, leaning on his shoulder, you found peace while he played with his hair. ❞ 

[𝟒] you came up to roger with your song-lyrics, what you wrote because of his help when you didn't have enough money to pay your coffee. when you recognized that he's the drummer of Smile, you offered your affinity to him. although writing some lines can be barely enough to return the favor, roger found you so adorable, and if you come back to them, he can meet you again. that's all that mattered.

❝ –hi, rog, sorry for being late –you came up, brushing a little hair from your face, handing him the papers. –my roommate is an idiot, tought she frgot her keys, but they were actually in her pocket. –it's alright, don't worry. brian's not already here –he nodded, running his eyes through the letters. your handwriting was so delicate to him, just like you soft presence before him. –i can see this is some good stuff already. –i'm trying –you nodded with a little, shy smirk. when you turned to go away, he tried to make you stay. –would you like to stay for the practice? i mean, i don't mind. you nodded, sitting down beside him. you two sat in comfortable silence, but it was so good. ❞

[𝟓] roger watches as you walk towards him, finally the two of you are engaged. roger proposed to you so suddenly, yet romantic –pulling thering on your finger in the morning while you slept, softly kissing your head to wake you. you don’t even realized, and you were mrs. rogers, planning on the wedding, the fans went crazy on the news, cheering when the two of you got out from the car. everything seemed to be so easy, so alright, mostly after the bad times, even with the band, even with teh annoying paparazzis. you were always there to him, and that’s what he wanted too –be there for you, forever. 

❝ –everything’s happen too fast –murmurs freddie as he sips on the champagne. –seems like you asked for our advices with shakily voice to impress her!  roger chuckled, keeping an eye on you, smiling when you alughed on somebody’s joke.  –look at her, she’s just perfect, so perfect.  freddie placed a hand on his knee, patting it, smiling gently. –just keep her, daring. and everything’s will be alright.  the blond nodded, and when he caught your sight, you threw him a little kiss, showing up your ring-finger with the ring on it, mouthing a little i love you, babe. roger said it back, feeling his life with you full and perfect. –i will, fred. and i’ll never let her go. ❞

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

should i write more stuff like this? anway, have a good day °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°