just to be clear, I’m staying here as long as this site functions. I have 0 intentions of deleting this blog, I will go down with this ship if only to see exactly how bad it gets
I don’t post adult content, but I know and follow a lot of blogs that do. If you don’t like the changes@staff wants to make regarding NSFW imagery, be sure to let them know!
okay I just found this comedian and I. Love him and I think the John mulaney crowd might like him…..god please watch this so he gets a wider audience and makes more bits I can watch
Temples are built for gods. Knowing this a farmer builds a small temple to see what kind of god turns up.
Arepo built a temple in his field, a humble thing, some stones stacked up to make a cairn, and two days later a god moved in.
“Hope you’re a harvest god,” Arepo said, and set up an altar and burnt two stalks of wheat. “It’d be nice, you know.” He looked down at the ash smeared on the stone, the rocks all laid askew, and coughed and scratched his head. “I know it’s not much,” he said, his straw hat in his hands. “But – I’ll do what I can. It’d be nice to think there’s a god looking after me.”
The next day he left a pair of figs, the day after that he spent ten minutes of his morning seated by the temple in prayer. On the third day, the god spoke up.
“You should go to a temple in the city,” the god said. Its voice was like the rustling of the wheat, like the squeaks of fieldmice running through the grass. “A real temple. A good one. Get some real gods to bless you. I’m no one much myself, but I might be able to put in a good word?” It plucked a leaf from a tree and sighed. “I mean, not to be rude. I like this temple. It’s cozy enough. The worship’s been nice. But you can’t honestly believe that any of this is going to bring you anything.”
“This is more than I was expecting when I built it,” Arepo said, laying down his scythe and lowering himself to the ground. “Tell me, what sort of god are you anyway?”
“I’m of the fallen leaves,” it said. “The worms that churn beneath the earth. The boundary of forest and of field. The first hint of frost before the first snow falls. The skin of an apple as it yields beneath your teeth. I’m a god of a dozen different nothings, scraps that lead to rot, momentary glimpses. A change in the air, and then it’s gone.”
The god heaved another sigh. “There’s no point in worship in that, not like War, or the Harvest, or the Storm. Save your prayers for the things beyond your control, good farmer. You’re so tiny in the world. So vulnerable. Best to pray to a greater thing than me.”
Arepo plucked a stalk of wheat and flattened it between his teeth. “I like this sort of worship fine,” he said. “So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll continue.”
“Do what you will,” said the god, and withdrew deeper into the stones. “But don’t say I never warned you otherwise.”
Arepo would say a prayer before the morning’s work, and he and the god contemplated the trees in silence. Days passed like that, and weeks, and then the Storm rolled in, black and bold and blustering. It flooded Arepo’s fields, shook the tiles from his roof, smote his olive tree and set it to cinder. The next day, Arepo and his sons walked among the wheat, salvaging what they could. The little temple had been strewn across the field, and so when the work was done for the day, Arepo gathered the stones and pieced them back together.
“Useless work,” the god whispered, but came creeping back inside the temple regardless. “There wasn’t a thing I could do to spare you this.”
“We’ll be fine,” Arepo said. “The storm’s blown over. We’ll rebuild. Don’t have much of an offering for today,” he said, and laid down some ruined wheat, “but I think I’ll shore up this thing’s foundations tomorrow, how about that?”
The god rattled around in the temple and sighed.
A year passed, and then another. The temple had layered walls of stones, a roof of woven twigs. Arepo’s neighbors chuckled as they passed it. Some of their children left fruit and flowers. And then the Harvest failed, the gods withdrew their bounty. In Arepo’s field the wheat sprouted thin and brittle. People wailed and tore their robes, slaughtered lambs and spilled their blood, looked upon the ground with haunted eyes and went to bed hungry. Arepo came and sat by the temple, the flowers wilted now, the fruit shriveled nubs, Arepo’s ribs showing through his chest, his hands still shaking, and murmured out a prayer.
“There is nothing here for you,” said the god, hudding in the dark. “There is nothing I can do. There is nothing to be done.” It shivered, and spat out its words. “What is this temple but another burden to you?”
“We -” Arepo said, and his voice wavered. “So it’s a lean year,” he said. “We’ve gone through this before, we’ll get through this again. So we’re hungry,” he said. “We’ve still got each other, don’t we? And a lot of people prayed to other gods, but it didn’t protect them from this. No,” he said, and shook his head, and laid down some shriveled weeds on the altar. “No, I think I like our arrangement fine.”
“There will come worse,” said the god, from the hollows of the stone. “And there will be nothing I can do to save you.”
The years passed. Arepo rested a wrinkled hand upon the temple of stone and some days spent an hour there, lost in contemplation with the god.
And one fateful day, from across the wine-dark seas, came War.
Arepo came stumbling to his temple now, his hand pressed against his gut, anointing the holy site with his blood. Behind him, his wheat fields burned, and the bones burned black in them. He came crawling on his knees to a temple of hewed stone, and the god rushed out to meet him.
“I could not save them,” said the god, its voice a low wail. “I am sorry. I am sorry. I am so so sorry.” The leaves fell burning from the trees, a soft slow rain of ash. “I have done nothing! All these years, and I have done nothing for you!”
“Shush,” Arepo said, tasting his own blood, his vision blurring. He propped himself up against the temple, forehead pressed against the stone in prayer. “Tell me,” he mumbled. “Tell me again. What sort of god are you?”
“I -” said the god, and reached out, cradling Arepo’s head, and closed its eyes and spoke.
“I’m of the fallen leaves,” it said, and conjured up the image of them. “The worms that churn beneath the
earth. The boundary of forest and of field. The first hint of frost
before the first snow falls. The skin of an apple as it yields beneath
your teeth.” Arepo’s lips parted in a smile.
“I am the god of a dozen different nothings,” it said. “The petals in bloom that lead to
rot, the momentary glimpses. A change in the air -” Its voice broke, and it wept. “Before it’s gone.”
“Beautiful,” Arepo said, his blood staining the stones, seeping into the earth. “All of them. They were all so beautiful.”
And as the fields burned and the smoke blotted out the sun, as men were trodden in the press and bloody War raged on, as the heavens let loose their wrath upon the earth, Arepo the sower lay down in his humble temple, his head sheltered by the stones, and returned home to his god.
Sora found the temple with the bones within it, the roof falling in upon them.
“Oh, poor god,” she said, “With no-one to bury your last priest.” Then she paused, because she was from far away. “Or is this how the dead are honored here?” The god roused from its contemplation.
“His name was Arepo,” it said, “He was a sower.”
Sora startled, a little, because she had never before heard the voice of a god. “How can I honor him?” She asked.
“Bury him,” the god said, “Beneath my altar.”
“All right,” Sora said, and went to fetch her shovel.
“Wait,” the god said when she got back and began collecting the bones from among the broken twigs and fallen leaves. She laid them out on a roll of undyed wool, the only cloth she had. “Wait,” the god said, “I cannot do anything for you. I am not a god of anything useful.”
Sora sat back on her heels and looked at the altar to listen to the god.
“When the Storm came and destroyed his wheat, I could not save it,” the god said, “When the Harvest failed and he was hungry, I could not feed him. When War came,” the god’s voice faltered. “When War came, I could not protect him. He came bleeding from the battle to die in my arms.” Sora looked down again at the bones.
“I think you are the god of something very useful,” she said.
“What?” the god asked.
Sora carefully lifted the skull onto the cloth. “You are the god of Arepo.”
Generations passed. The village recovered from its tragedies—homes
rebuilt, gardens re-planted, wounds healed. The old man who once lived on the
hill and spoke to stone and rubble had long since been forgotten, but the
temple stood in his name. Most believed it to empty, as the god who resided
there long ago had fallen silent. Yet, any who passed the decaying shrine felt an ache
in their hearts, as though mourning for a lost friend. The cold that seeped
from the temple entrance laid their spirits low, and warded off any potential
visitors, save for the rare and especially oblivious children who would leave tiny
clusters of pink and white flowers that they picked from the surrounding
meadow.
The god sat in his peaceful home, staring out at the distant
road, to pedestrians, workhorses, and carriages, raining leaves that swirled
around bustling feet. How long had it been? The world had progressed without
him, for he knew there was no help to be given. The world must be a cruel place, that even the useful gods have abandoned,
if farms can flood, harvests can run barren, and homes can burn, he
thought.
He had come to understand that humans are senseless
creatures, who would pray to a god that cannot grant wishes or bless upon them
good fortune. Who would maintain a temple and bring offerings with nothing in
return. Who would share their company and meditate with such a fruitless deity.
Who would bury a stranger without the hope for profit. What bizarre, futile
kindness they had wasted on him. What wonderful, foolish, virtuous, hopeless
creatures, humans were.
So he painted the sunset with yellow leaves, enticed the
worms to dance in their soil, flourished the boundary between forest and field
with blossoms and berries, christened the air with a biting cold before winter
came, ripened the apples with crisp, red freckles to break under sinking teeth,
and a dozen other nothings, in memory of the man who once praised the god’s
work on his dying breath.
“Hello, God of Every Humble Beauty in the World,” called a
familiar voice.
The squinting corners of the god’s eyes wept down onto
curled lips. “Arepo,” he whispered, for his voice was hoarse from its hundred-year
mutism.
“I am the god of devotion, of small kindnesses, of
unbreakable bonds. I am the god of selfless, unconditional love, of everlasting
friendships, and trust,” Arepo avowed, soothing the other with every word.
“That’s wonderful, Arepo,” he responded between tears, “I’m
so happy for you—such a powerful figure will certainly need a grand temple. Will
you leave to the city to gather more worshippers? You’ll be adored by all.”
“No,” Arepo smiled.
“Farther than that, to the capitol, then? Thank you for
visiting here before your departure.”
“No, I will not go there, either,” Arepo shook his head and
chuckled.
“Farther still? What ambitious goals, you must have. There
is no doubt in my mind that you will succeed, though,” the elder god continued.
“Actually,” interrupted Arepo, “I’d like to stay here, if
you’ll have me.”
The other god was struck speechless. “…. Why would you want
to live here?”
“I am the god of unbreakable bonds and everlasting
friendships. And you are the god of Arepo.”
I reblogged this once with the first story. Now the story has grown and I’m crying. This is gorgeous, guys. This is what dreams are made of.
Summary: You are engaged to Roger Taylor, who of course has busy schedule and this comes into conflict when you try to plan a wedding. After a heated argument, you leave your shared house and contemplate what always and forever meant for you two.
Word Count: 3227
Warnings: Swearing
A/N: This one is super long and I’m not sure how I feel about it but I at least hope you guys enjoy it! It took awhile to write, so I hope it’s not too boring. As always please leave feedback, it helps so much! If you’d like a part two don’t be afraid to request it!! I didn’t proofread either so it may have a few errors…
Cold licked at your face and crept under your clothes, spreading across your skin like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach while you waited for Roger to open the door. With purple lips tinged with blue and gently chattering teeth you wrapped your arms around Roger in attempt to gather warmth. You felt his body shake as he chuckled. “I’ve almost got it open love, I just have so many keys.” He said, wrapping his free hand around you, and rubbing your arm to keep you warm.
Finally, he swung the door open and he guided you inside, the warmth hitting your face. You let out a shiver as you began to heat up. “It’s so cold out there, my God.” You murmured. “I’m going have to some tea to warm up, would you like some?”
“Of course.” He said taking his coat off. “Did you enjoy dinner though?”
“I did, especially when the guy stopped mid-proposal to ask you for an autograph.” You said, smiling thinking back to the memory. A tall, balding man was down on one knee to the woman in front of him. But when he opened his mouth to pop the question, but his eyes fell to Roger who was sitting with you. Instead of “Will you marry me?” all that came out was “Holy shit, Roger Taylor! Sign this napkin!”
“You’re going to be the wife of a rockstar!” His statement made you roll your eyes playfully. Roger himself was smiling too, when you brought up the proposal. “Would you have said yes if I did that during our proposal?”
You thought for a moment as your poured the tea into your designated mugs. “Well she still said yes, so I have to assume she loved him greatly. Just as I do you,” you said, placing the tea onto the shiny coffee table and snuggling up to your fiancé. Roger wrapped his arm around you, and pulled you close. “I’d have been upset with you, but I still would have to say yes.”
He kissed your cheek as you laughed. You looked at the dainty gold ring with a small diamond in appreciation. Thinking about marrying Roger and spending the rest of your lives together always made you giddy. You looked up at Roger from leaning on his chest, and smiled. He was intently focusing on whatever was playing on the television. “Rog…”
“Hm?” Roger drew himself away from the television to look at you. You sat up to face him. “What is it?” He said, furrowing his brows and pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“I’m really glad your back, I missed you while you were on tour.” You said, trying not to smile. It was his first day back and the past months without him had been so lonely, and the brief phone calls were hardly enough for an actual conversation. “And I’m so excited to marry you…” You murmured with a sigh.
Roger looked at you with love, “I know, I’m excited to marry you…”
“All I could think about was our wedding… It doesn’t have to be big you know? Just friends and family, nothing too flashy. The venue will be some scenic venue…”
Roger laughed, “I’m sure you could go on and on but you’re getting a little ahead of yourself…”
You rolled your eyes. “I know I can’t help it. We have to have it soon, I don’t want to be engaged forever… And you know, a spring wedding would be so lovely…” You said biting your lip.
“Y/N…” He mumbled.
“I was honestly hoping for somewhere in March… March 15th…You know the flowers are so lovely–“ You cut off your daydreaming.
“Y/N!” He said louder this time, causing you to snap your head towards him with a bit of a jump. “I can’t do that.”
You frowned. “What do you mean you can’t do that? It’s our wedding.”
“We’re most likely going to be on tour… I wanted to tell you at a better time but after Christmas we’re going to start recording another album, which means another” Roger said, burying his face in his hands.
“But I just got you back.” You said in a whisper, afraid that the threatening tears would start spill out. “And it’s our wedding…”
He looked at you as you squeezed your eyes shut, no longer caring if you were crying or not. “Y/N don’t cry–“ He leaned to touch your cheek in an attempt to comfort you but you recoiled at his a touch.
“Don’t touch me Roger.” You said, your voice shaking. You scooted away from him.
“Come on don’t be like that, we can plan it for a later date.”
“But then you’ll just have another tour! You’re always busy we can’t even plan our fucking wedding!” You said, as your sorrow quickly melted to angry, hot tears spilling onto your cheeks.
“You know my life is demanding…” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. You both wanted to stop arguing, and you knew nothing but pain would come from this, and still you persisted.
“You won’t even set aside time for our wedding? If you weren’t serious about marrying me, then why did you propose in the first place?”
“Honestly, I don’t know!” He shouted, “Right now, I really wish I didn’t.”
You stood there, numb at the words he just screamed at you. You couldn’t think or feel anything but the pain. Roger could see the hurt on your face, and he wished he hadn’t said it, but there was no going back.
“I need a break…” You mumbled out. He just scoffed as you walked past him toward the door.
“Whatever…” He rolled his eyes. You stopped and just took in a deep breath, trying not to cry and show him how much he had hurt you.
Roger pursed his lips as you grabbed your keys and walked out the door with a slam behind you. He stood there for a few seconds, mad at you and mad at himself. He picked up an old framed picture of you two together and threw it furiously at the door. It fell to the ground with a shatter.
You sat in your car, a chill starting to seep into you, as you sobbed, and gasped for air in between.The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down your face. You felt the muscles of my chin tremble like a small child and you looked toward the window, as if the light down the street could soothe you. There is a numbness, a static, in your head once more, the side effect of a fear of losing Roger. Your hear your own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. It takes something out of you that you didn’t know you had left to give. Still sobbing, you started your car, and drove to your best friend’s house. In less than five minutes you were at Nancy’s house. Shivering you gently knocked on her door, and she answered it with a look of pity. She already knew why you were upset, because nobody else could hurt you that much except Roger…
Nancy set you up a warm, makeshift bed on her couch, right next to the fireplace. She brought you some hot chocolate. “If you need, anything I’ll be in the next room…” She smiled warmly at you.
“Thank you, Nance.” You said with a small smile. You stared into the mug, thinking back to how happy you were just a few hours ago… You were brought back to the fight, however, and couldn’t help but wonder where you went wrong.
What he said… It hurt you so much. He had said so many times he wanted to marry you, to spend the rest of his life with you…
You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, the only noise the crackling of the fireplace, thinking about the past few years with Roger.
You were lying between the satin sheets, your legs intertwined with Roger’s in your old shared apartment. The light began to seep through your old shared apartment. He had his arms wrapped around you, mindlessly tapping the beat of another new song on your arm. You laughed to him. “That tickles!” You squealed.
“‘M sorry love, I can’t help it.” Roger chuckled. “I didn’t even know I was doing it… Just had a tune in my head…”
“Is it a new song of yours? I didn’t recognize it.” You rolled over to face him.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure yet, it just came to me…”
“Well it seems lovely so far… Although I wouldn’t take my word because I just felt your taps… Also to me, anything you make is lovely.”
He grabbed you by the waist, and swiftly rolled you on top of him. “I know something we can make that’s lovely.” He whispered in your ear.
Despite your goosebumps, you erupted in giggles.
“Not now, Rog, it’s too early.”
You laughed in between his kisses, and mumbled “We can’t not now…” and rolled back over next to him. You rested your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat and tracing circles on him with your finger. The you felt about him, the purity of your love… You never wanted it to end.“I wish we could stay this way forever.
“Well why can’t we?” Roger frowned. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his lips. “We have our whole lives ahead of us.”
“I know but… Who’s to say we’ll always be together…” You said with a sigh. You turned on your side, away from him. There was a moment of silence, and you had a feeling he was thinking about something.
“You know… You could just marry me.” Roger blurted out. You turned over to face him, and he was propped up using his elbow.
“What?” You said in disbelief.
“Yeah…” He mumbled, nodding to himself, as if he was reassuring himself. Roger looked at you, “Marry me.”
“Are you mad? You don’t even have a bloody ring!” You laughed, and couldn’t help but smile.
“Actually…” Roger trailed off. He reached over to his night stand, and pulled out a little velvet box. “I was planning to give this to you on Valentine’s Day, but I think it makes a pretty good engagement ring.” He opened the box, and held up a thin gold ring, with a tiny diamond. “So… Marry me.”
“Roger! I’m not even wear any clothes!” You said, smiling.
“Well, love, I think just the ring on you is still quite fetching.” Roger said with a smirk, pushing your hair behind your ear.
You looked at the tiny ring he held between his fingers, happy tears stinging your eyes. “Well…” He motioned for you to continue, but when you didn’t he looked down at the ring. “So is that a no then?”
You laughed, tears nearly rolling down your cheeks. You shook your head. “No you idiot, I’m just shocked!”
Roger rolled his eyes playfully. “So is that a yes then? You’ll marry me?”
“Of course I’ll marry you!” You said, choking back more tears. He grabbed your left hand, and slid the ring. “Rog, it’s perfect…” You said adoringly.
He pressed his lips against yours, and you could feel the happy tears pour out of your eyes again. He pulled away once he felt your tears hit his own cheek. Roger wiped a tear away with his thumb. “You’re crying…” he mumbled.
“I’m just so happy…” You smiled lovingly at him. “So happy…” You closed your eyes.
He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer once again. “Maybe we will be like this forever. Always and forever…”
The memory faded away just as quickly as it came, and nearly made you cry, and although it was barely a year and a half ago, it felt an eternity ago. Your love then was so pure and raw, and now… Now he wished he never proposed to you.
You looked at the ring, and twisted it back and forth. You didn’t even care about the fact that you had to push your wedding back. All you wanted was to spend the rest of your life with him… But what he said hurt, and he didn’t even seem to care when you walked out… You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to cry for the what felt like the fiftieth time tonight.
You looked once more at the ring on your finger, remembering why you got engaged to him in the first place. You slid it off for a moment too look at the “Always and Forever” he had engraved on it. It was your favorite thing, because it was pretty much the reason you got engaged to him… You wanted to be with him always and forever…
“I see you’re thinking about him.” Nancy said in the doorway, gesturing with a nod. “I don’t know exactly what you two fought about because I don’t wanna pry… But Y/N, he loves you so much, you can see it in the way he looks at you.”
“He proposed to me so we could have the rest of our lives together. I still want that…” You croaked. “If we are gonna get married, I can’t just walk out like that. I have to work through things.” You sighed, and immediately felt guilty for just leaving. It had been a few hours since you last left, and just hoped he was still home. “Thank you much Nance, I gotta go…”
“Good Luck Y/N.” She said drawing you into a hug. “I hope it all works out. Call me if you ever need anything, okay?” Nancy said with a smile.
You gave her a small nod, and grabbed you keys. The ride back to your house made you nervous, and you hoped he’d taken some time to cool off himself. You were relieved when you saw his car still in the driveway and you practically ran up to the door. The cold nipped at your nose and your teeth were already chattering.
You swung your front door open. “Roger?” You called throughout the house. You started walking toward your bedroom when he came out wearing only pajama bottoms, and closed the door behind. You hoped you hadn’t just woke him up
“W-What are you doing here? I thought you left?” Roger stuttered.
“I did but I realized… I don’t care when the wedding is. Because I get to be with you forever after that, and that all I care about. As long as I have you that’s all that matters. I’m so sorry Rog.” You said, looking up at you. He pulled you into a warm embrace.
“I love you so much Y/N… I’m so sorry.” He kissed the top of your head. You could smell the alcohol radiating from his breath.
You laughed. “Are you shit-faced?” You said, still feeling a little guilty. You quickly kissed his cheek. “Can we please go to bed? It’s been an awfully long–“ You stopped yourself when you heard a laugh erupting from behind the door.
There was silence between you and you froze. You squeezed your eyes shut. “Roger… Open the door.”
“Y/N–“
“Open the door. Now.” You said, anger starting to seep back through. Roger only stood there trying to hide what was behind the door from you. You shoved passed him and open the door yourself. You weren’t surprised to see some blonde, naked under the sheets.
She was still laughing. “Sorry Roger, I know you told me to be quiet but I couldn’t help it!”
Your cheeks burned and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. It was of course funny to her, because you had to look pathetic right now. You turned to Roger, a look of hurt and disgust on your face. “How could you?”
Roger turned to the blonde who was still giggling, still naked in your sheets, laying all over your side of the bed. “Get out. Now.” He seethed. You shook your head, wondering why he was yelling at her like it was her fault. The woman didn’t object, and quickly gathered her clothes and bolted for the door.
He started saying things, but you blocked them out as you started shoving as much clothes as you could into a suitcase. You quickly zipped it up.
“Just let me explain, Y/N! Please!” Roger begged.
You sharply turned toward him. “Explain what? That you cheated on me? There’s nothing to explain!”
“I thought we were taking a break! You said you needed a break!” He tried to reason.
“Just because we were on break doesn’t mean you cheat on me! I still wore this stupid ring!” You ripped off the engagement ring and threw it across the room. You didn’t realize it but you were sobbing now, and ugly crying. Usually you were self-conscious about crying, but he hurt you so much you didn’t care.
“Y/N the ring–please…” Roger cried, tears in his own eyes now.
“I wasted years of my fucking life on you, and you blew it all in one night. One night!” You said angrily in between sobs.
“Just listen to me!” He pleaded, but you didn’t. You lifted up your poorly packed suitcase and quickly walked down your hallway.
You stopped in your tracks. “No. Maybe the girl who was in my bed will listen to you
“But I don’t love her, I love you.”
You turned around, to face him. Your cheeks were wet and you were sure your face was splotchy, but you no longer cared. Roger hated seeing that he did this to you… “Love me?” You cried. “You don’t love me! You’ve never loved anyone but yourself!”
You lifted up your suitcase once again, grabbed your keys, but on your way out you saw a smashed photo frame. You figured Roger threw it when he was mad. Your lip quivered and you swiftly walked out the door, slamming behind you. You stopped at the entrance of your house, and just stood there, sobbing.
You had always been so self-conscious when you cried but now you just gave way to the enormity of your grief. You sobbed into your hands and the tears dripped between your fingers, raining down onto the dampened cement. Your breathing was ragged, gasping and the strength left your legs. You sank to your knees not caring about the grit that dug into your knees. You were noisy, your skin was blotched but there was no-one there to witness it let alone come to comfort you. You could run a mile in any direction and not find another soul. You cried until no more tears came, but still the emptiness and sorrow remained. You could hear the crashing and the yells of frustration, and figured Roger was throwing things as he always does.
Roger threw the lamp across the room, and flung the couch over. He was crying too, now, cause he’d hurt and possibly ran off the person he cared about most. His hands shaking, he picked up the broken picture frame he threw earlier, and set it gently on the table. He stormed into his bedroom, tossing and throwing everything else in sight. However, as he was about to throw another lamp, something glittery caught his eye. Instantly he knew what it was.
He picked up the gold ring, and looked at the “Always and Forever” he had engraved inside of after you got engaged. Roger squeezed the ring in his. Maybe “Always and Forever” wasn’t meant for the two of you like you hoped it would be…
You know? I think my recommended section is trying to tell me something
AN: This was a request from my 1K Celebration post, sent in by @edidreamerbird .The details of the story may be a little different, but it’s pretty close. Also, three things in one day?! I have been on a roll. However tomorrow I won’t be able to post much because I’m going wedding dress shopping with a friend, so I guess this is to make up for that. Let me know what you think!
Hi Honey 😚! I just adore your account and writing style so much! Are you still accepting those celebration requests?I was wondering, if you could write one with the gorgeous Roger Taylor/Ben Hardy 🥰?I really love the 13th title on your recommendation list. I was thinking about Roger and the reader being best friends, while the reader is completely in love with Rog, but she is so afraid to confess anything, she’s generally so scared to show any love or passion to anyone, cause she had been betrayed a couple times, before she met Rog, and also had been called a weak and naive girl, too romantic for this world, so this made her act like a strong, confident and independent woman, even in front of Roger, but they spend so much time together, that he’s starting to see her true colors, so he asks her: Why can’t you ever just say how you really feel? Also could the story take place before Christmas, when anyone is getting a little bit more honest and emotional? Love you 💕
It was the most wonderful time of the year. Your favorite time of the year, in fact. You loved everything about it- the snow, the hot cocoa, the decorations, and the general cheeriness that filled the air. It didn’t matter that this time the year before, you had had your heart broken. Nothing was going to ruin the holidays for you.
You attributed a lot of your excitement to the fact that you were actually going to be able to spend the season with your best friend. He was a busy guy, being the drummer in a world-famous rock and roll band, but this year they had the month off. The day he had given you the good news, his blue eyes were lit up like the Christmas tree you were decorating together, and your heart had felt like it could explode. It was always hard when Roger was away, but it was even worse when it was during times meant to be spent with loved ones. Love.
In your experience, there was no feeling quite worse than love. You had been burned by the concept one too many times, and had begun to think that it was just not something that you were cut out for. You used to allow people in so easily- a hopeless romantic at heart. It was always nice while it lasted, but that was the problem. It never did. That’s why, when your eyes started lingering on Roger’s profile a little too long, or your heart would palpitate when he would wrap his arms around you in a tight hug, you started to feel anxious.
You couldn’t have feelings for Roger. He was your friend. You knew how he was when it came to women, and getting involved with him always lead to heartbreak. You loved him, but in a platonic way. Or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself. It was safer that way.
“You’re absolute rubbish at this, did you know that?”
You glared at the blond as you continued hanging the ornaments on your now fully assembled tree. The two of you had spent the day putting up all your Christmas decorations, and he had done nothing but complain about how you wanted things done.
“You’re one to talk. It took you thirty minutes to get the lights hung up straight.” You fired back, turning away from the tree to grab more tinsel.
“Well if someone would have helped me, maybe it wouldn’t have been so difficult.” Roger had stepped away from the tree now to admire his handiwork, and then he took a seat on one of the dining room chairs behind him. “Done.”
Once you turned back around, you laughed at the sight. His side of the tree was so densely decorated that you could hardly see the green of the tree anymore. However, he was wearing a proud smile that kept you from criticizing it.
“It’s beautiful, Rog.”
Roger’s eyes met yours and he gave you a wink, the action sending butterflies soaring through your stomach, and you gently draped the rest of the tinsel you had in your hands over the branches of the tree. Several minutes later, you were finished, and joined Roger in a chair of your own.
“I think we make a great team.” Roger said, as he reached over and gave your hand a squeeze. You stared down at his hand wrapped around yours, and had to fight against instantly pulling it away. You could feel goosebumps spreading up your skin, and you tugged on the end of your jumper’s sleeves, trying to hide them. Roger didn’t notice, however, and he removed his hand to pull a cigarette out of his pocket along with his lighter.
“No smoking near my tree!” You cried, as you lurched forward to pull the cigarette from between his lips. Roger made a noise of protest, as he reached over to try and grab it back from you.
“Honestly, woman.” Roger sighed, finally giving up after coming up empty handed after numerous failed attempts. You smiled triumphantly, and set the cigarette to the side. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, just gazing at the tree and various other decorations you had spent the day putting together.
“Let’s go see the lights.” You suggested, breaking the silence. Roger looked over at you curiously, being met with an excited grin. “The ones downtown. I didn’t get to go last year.”
The sinking feeling in your stomach returned as a brief memory of staying locked up in your house the previous year came back to you. The break up really had taken all your favorite traditions away from you, and you were determined to get them back. Roger seemed to think about the idea for a minute, but then nodded enthusiastically.
“Alright, sounds like fun.”
You jumped up from your chair and hurriedly went to grab your coat and gloves. Roger watched you, an amused look on his face. Not having been home the last couple of Christmas’, Roger had never seen how excited you got over the holiday. He found it very endearing, considering the events that had transpired the year before. He had been worried that you would fold into yourself, but it ended up being quite the opposite.
It didn’t take long to get downtown, with your flat being just a few blocks away. The air was chilly, but you didn’t mind. You had a bright, striped scarf wrapped around your neck and your favorite beanie and gloves covering your head and hands. Roger was more under-dressed, only wearing his coat and a hat that didn’t even completely cover the sides of his head.
“Jesus, I didn’t realize it was so cold.” Roger whined, burying his hands in his pockets. You rolled your eyes. You had warned him to bundle up a little bit more, but as usual, he didn’t listen. The two of you continued down the street, your eyes fixated on the different colors that were twinkling and reflecting against the buildings. There was a permanent smile on your lips, and you emitted a happy sigh. You had missed this.
After about twenty minutes of walking, Roger’s whining finally got the best of you, and you stepped into a nearby shop that was selling coffee and other hot drinks. There were couples cuddled up on every sofa around the room, and you tried not to pay any attention to them. Roger had disappeared to order your drinks, and you waited patiently near the door. The room smelled like cocoa and cinnamon, a combination that warmed your heart. Before long, Roger was back at your side, handing you a steaming cup, and gently blowing on his own. You made a move towards the door, but he reached out to grab your arm and pull you back.
“Let’s hang out in here for a few. I’m finally starting to feel my fingers again.”
You sighed, but nodded and grabbed the chair closest to you. Roger shook his head again and wordlessly pointed towards an open sofa near the shop’s fireplace. You felt your heart drop as you hesitantly followed him, passing by numerous people kissing and holding hands. Roger plopped down on the end of the couch closest to the fire, and patted the seat next to him. You obliged him, but sat down as far from him as you could manage. A small frown formed on his lips, but you pretended not to notice.
“Are you okay?” Roger asked quietly, after several minutes of watching your eyes flicker to all the people around you. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the fact that you had been caught, and you hoped that he hadn’t seen the look of longing in your eyes. Regardless of how your heart had been broken, as you sat on the couch with your best friend, you wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you. You wanted him to wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull you close like the other couples were doing. But the two of you weren’t a couple. You shook the thoughts from your mind.
“Of course! How could I not be? The lights have been beautiful.”
The fake-happy sound of your voice sounded wrong, but Roger only had to look at your face to know that you were lying. The confident, exuberant girl that he had spent the day decorating with was gone, and he couldn’t quite understand why.
“YN-“
“Maybe we should head back.” You jumped up from the sofa before Roger could finish his thought. You didn’t want to feel like this. You didn’t want to be sad while out with your best friend, doing the things you loved the most. Roger didn’t object, and stood up to follow you out into the streets. The chill took your breath away, but you welcomed it. The minor shock helped clear your head and you felt your spirits build again. You flashed Roger a bright smile, and a skip returned to your step.
“Of course, you’re happy. You have gloves to keep your fingers from turning into literal icicles.” Roger moaned. You were about to chastise him for forgetting his own when you felt a pressure against your palm and realized that Roger had wrapped his hand around yours. The contact startled you, causing you to wrench your hand back and stare up at him wide-eyed. The two of you were now standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at each other. Roger had a quizzical look on his face, and you felt like you were going to throw up. It had been an innocent gesture, but your heart and stomach found multiple reasons to reject it.
“What’s wrong?” Roger asked, trying to decipher what had just happened. Your eyes fell down to your hands, staring at your gloves and trying to reason with yourself that it wasn’t a big deal.
“Nothing’s wrong, Rog.”
When your eyes lifted to meet his again, his expression had changed again to one of exasperation. You turned to start walking again, but Roger extended his arm to pull you back.
“Why can’t you ever just say how you really feel?”
You bounced on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Maybe it was the bright lights, or maybe it was the warmth you felt from the cocoa, or maybe it was the memory of how the two of you had spent the day together so happily, but you almost felt like you could cry. You had been so excited to spend these days with Roger, but you hadn’t realized how hard it would be when it came to your feelings.
“Roger, there’s nothing-“
“That’s a bullshit lie, and you know it.”
He wasn’t angry, he was concerned. He knew that this time of year would be hard for you, but he didn’t like the buffer that you were putting up between the two of you. You huffed impatiently, a cloud of smoke forming in front of your face, and you continued to glance around the street at everyone around you. You weren’t sure that you had the willpower or the strength to look back into his blue eyes without crumbling.
Roger’s hand was still wrapped loosely around your arm, and slowly you felt yourself lean in to him. His arms snaked around your waist under your coat, and you rested your head against his chest. Despite him complaining about being cold, he felt so warm against your cheek and you closed your eyes as you inhaled his cologne.
“I love you.” You whispered, hardly loud enough for anyone but yourself to hear over the sounds on the street.
“Of course, I love you too, YN.”
You shook your head violently against his chest, tears now threatening to spill any moment. He didn’t understand.
“No, no. Roger, I love you.”
You gripped Roger tighter as he body stilled, terrified that if you were to let him go, he would disappear. There was an agonizing silence as Roger processed through your words. You almost slid out of his grasp and started running back to your apartment when he finally cleared his throat. You hesitantly lifted your head from his chest and took a small step back so that you could look up into his face properly. You had expected him to look mad, or sad, or even confused, so you were surprised when you saw he was smiling.
“You, YN YLN, are in love with me, Roger Taylor? Are you mad?”
One of the tears that had been building behind your eyes slipped down your cheek and you felt bile rising in your throat. He was mocking you.
“Look, Roger, you don’t have to be-“
Before you could finish your sentence, Roger had wrapped his cold hands under your cheeks and pulled your lips up to meet his in an urgent and passionate kiss. You lifted onto your tip-toes, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. Your head spun, and for a moment you swore your feet actually left the ground. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, not removing his hands from your cheeks.
“That’s good. I’m quite mad myself.” He whispered, before pressing another small kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your smile was so bright it rivaled the lights hanging above you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into you. The most wonderful time of the year had just gotten so much better.
AN: Thank you all so much for the requests! I’m doing my best to get them out as quickly as possible, while also having a lot going on and dealing with semi-writer’s block. I appreciate all the wonderful comments and support! Enjoy! can you please write roger x reader where reader is in trouble and calls for roger to help?? Like they fainted, or being harassed/followed or something? Thank you, love your writing!! Warning: Mentions of harassment
You tried to ignore it at first. You were a waitress, so there were often those drunk patrons who would hit on you or make you feel generally uncomfortable. You had learned to just politely laugh off their comments, but never give them a reason to think that they could push you any further. However, tonight was different.
There was a drunk man at the bar who had recognized you from a few of your boyfriend’s concerts. The first comment he made had been about your outfit.
“Would your boy approve of how much skin you’re showing off for us?”
You had looked down at what you were wearing: a pair of red shorts and a plain white v-neck shirt. It wasn’t overly revealing so you brushed him off. You went about waiting on your two tables and when you came back to place their drink orders, the man started again.
“How did some scrawny band geek manage to land a fine lady like yourself?”
You rolled your eyes when he couldn’t see your face, but when you turned back to him, you gave him your best customer-service smile.
“He’s good to me.” You replied simply, as the bartender placed your drinks on a tray and slid them over to you. The guy eyed you up and down, a disgusting smirk on his face. You felt your skin go hot with anger, and before he could say anything else, you went back to your tables.
It was the third comment that really made your skin crawl. You had just walked up to the bar to hand over your apron and punch out, when the man grabbed your wrist. Your eyes shot down to where his skin was touching yours, and slowly made their way up his arm until they met his face.
“Why don’t you come home with me tonight, darlin’? I can show you a better time than that diva ever could.”
Immediately, you wrenched your arm out of his grasp and turned to walk away. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you felt like you could throw up. You had people hit on you all the time, but none of them had ever touched you before. The fact that he was willing to go that far made you nervous.
You had just reached the door by the bathrooms when you heard footsteps behind you. You almost didn’t dare look over your shoulder for fear of who it could be, but you did anyways. Your stomach dropped when you saw the creepy old man following a few feet behind you. The smirk was gone from his face and now he looked angry. His eyes were locked on you, and you quickly turned a corner to head towards the backroom that was nearby.
You knew that you couldn’t leave the restaurant now that this man was following you, but you didn’t know how else to get home. Panicking slightly, you pushed the storeroom door open and checked around for the phone. You knew it was late, but you also knew that he wouldn’t mind if you called. He was probably waiting for you anyways.
Your hands were shaking as you picked up the receiver and dialed his phone number. It only took two rings before you could hear his voice on the other side.
“Hello?”
“Rog, I need you to come get me.”
There was a moment of silence, and then you could hear the cord rustling as Roger moved to stand up.
“What’s wrong?”
His voice was strained- worry laced in every word. He didn’t live far from where you worked, and he knew that you normally didn’t have any issues walking home by yourself. For you to call, sounding so distraught, it put him on edge.
“There’s… there’s just some drunk guy who won’t leave me alone.” You twirled the phone cord around your finger nervously as you sat down in one of the extra chairs along the wall.
“Where are you now?”
“I’m in the storeroom.”
“Stay right there. I’ll be there soon.” And then the line went dead. You placed the receiver back on its base and started chewing on the corners of your nails. It was a habit that you had developed any time you felt anxious. You knew that it wouldn’t take long for Roger to get to where you were, but you also knew that if this guy figured out where you were, an “Employees Only” sign probably wouldn’t stop him.
The minutes passed, and the longer you went without hearing anything from the drunk man, the better you felt. After about 15 minutes, the storeroom door swung open, and you felt your stomach lurch. Your eyes fell on the figure who had entered the room, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of the familiar blond.
“YN! Thank God, you’re alright.” Roger breathed, rushing over to pull you into his arms. You felt your body melt against him as you buried your face into his neck.
“He was following me, and I didn’t know what else to do.” You murmured against his skin, feeling tears pricking your eyes. Roger squeezed you against his chest even tighter and placed a gently kiss onto the top of your head.
“You did the right thing calling me. Now, let’s get you home.”
You nodded against his chest as he slowly released you. He gave you an encouraging smile as he laced his fingers with yours and led you out into the hall. You breathed a small sigh of relief when you didn’t see the man waiting in the hall or near the door. As you stepped out into the cool, night air and the man still wasn’t there, you realized that he must have gone home.
You and Roger walked to his flat in silence, his warm hand squeezing yours every few minutes as a reassurance that he was still there. Once you were inside his flat, he pulled you in for another hug. For the first time in hours, a smile spread across your lips as Roger’s hand ran up and down your back.
“I’m so sorry, love.” He whispered into your hair. You pulled back out of his arms slightly so that you could look up at his face. He was wearing a pained expression but as you gently ran your fingers across his jaw and up his cheek, it started to soften. You leaned up onto your tiptoes to press a series of kisses across his face and neck. “Maybe you should quit.”
You froze at his words, your eyes fixated on his own. He was smiling softly at you, but you could hear the seriousness in his tone. He had been watching you go through this kind of harassment for a while now, and he hated it.
“Roger, I can’t just quit my job.” You laughed, your hand still cupping his cheek.
“Sure you can. I can take care of you now. It’d be better than getting these phone calls late at night, and finding out that you’re in trouble.”
His blue eyes bore into yours, practically begging you to agree. You knew Roger worried, but you hadn’t realized how much until now. You didn’t like the thought of Roger taking on all of your financial responsibilities, but you couldn’t help how lovely it sounded to not have to work at that horrible restaurant anymore.
“Just until I find something better.” You assured him, causing a bright smile to fully consume his features. The sight made your heart skip.
“Deal.”
He lifted you up off your feet and spun you in several tight circles. When he finally set you down, he ducked his head slightly to press his lips sweetly against your own. In that moment, you had already forgotten about your terrifying experience. Roger was your safe place. Roger was home.
Summary/Request: Requested by anon: Could I request something where Jake Peralta comforts the overweight reader because she’s insecure about her weight? I was feeling okay about it but then the holidays and family happened.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 