#rove writes

[rovewrites]

(Placeholder cover)

Max's whole life turns upside down when she meets Pox. Jinx and Aura meet under less than stellar circumstances. Worlds collide and friends become family. In order to gain, what must you lose?

--

I've been dying to start this writing project, so I'm getting back to NaNoWriMo!! Wish me luck!!

[rovewritesit]

yeah but imagine sd!d vaguely mentioning the reader and their relationship in an interview....

is this blurb two months late? yes. did jess finally bombard me with enough inspiration for me to finish it? hell yes. will I ever get over sd!d? hell no.

"This is Mike Read with BBC 1, and we have a wonderful treat for all you lords and ladies this morning. Sir John Deacon and Dame Roger Taylor of Queen are here in the studio with some details on their new album. Welcome back, boys."

"Thank you, Mike. It's good to be back," Roger responds from across the booth, his trainers propped up on the desk underneath his mic. "You all can't see, but my curtesy was immaculate."

John leans in close to his mic, knowing his softer voice won't carry as well over Mike's responding chuckle. "Pleasure as always."

"Okay, let's get right to it then," Mike starts. "A Kind of Magic. Tell me about it."

John stays silent, glancing at Roger to jump right in as he always does. But the blonde simply folds his hands in his lap and returns the stare. 

Sod it all. John was not in the mood for his antics this early in the morning. "Erm, yes, well, it's our twelfth studio album. It was made in part for the soundtrack to the film Highlander, which was released earlier this year."

"Yes, indeed," Mike begins. "That was... quite the film."

Roger snorts lightly. "That's one way to put it."

John's glower in his direction goes unnoticed. "There are quite a few new songs on this that weren't featured in the film that we're very excited about," he continues, attempting to keep his annoyance out of his voice. "It hits stands next week."

"Any upcoming hits that either of you wrote that we should keep an ear out for?"

"Well, the first single is actually-"

"Actually," Roger cuts in. "I would highly encourage you all to purchase the LP. Some very impressive artwork is included."

John quirks his brow. This was supposed to be a quick 15-minute radio spot. Why on earth was Roger bringing up album art of all topics to touch upon?

"Indeed," Mike concurs politely. "I've always been a big fan of the artists you've chosen for your covers, and this one is no exception. Who was the artist behind the design this time?"

"Roger Chiasson," John informs him. "Brilliant cartoonist. He's mostly worked in children's animation, believe it or not."

John doesn't notice the sly grin that slides across Roger's face. "There are also some magnificent inserts to go along with it as well. Done by a lesser-known artist that John brought to us as a matter of fact. We had no idea he was such a connoisseur of illustrative talent. What was her name again?"

John's jaw immediately tenses as he catches on to Roger's game. He's positive his face is beet red by the time he catches his friend's eye. "Y/N L/N," he says shortly, scooching a bit further back from the table.

"We're getting a little away from the music now, aren't we?" Mike laughs.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm embarrassed. I forget how you know her," Roger prods once more.

John grits his teeth, baring them slightly in intimidation. "She's a friend."

"A good friend," Roger emphasizes.

Mike is slowly picking up the tension between the pair, staring in bewilderment as the two verbally spar back and forth. 

"Yes, a good friend," John seethes.

"A really good friend."

"Quite," John snips.

Mike clears his throat lightly to grab their attention. "I think we'll go ahead and preview a single. We'll check in with you two after. Here's Friends Will Be Friends off of Queen's upcoming album, A Kind Of Magic."

"You and I are going to have words after this," John mutters almost inaudibly to his side as the track opens over the speakers.

Roger stage whispers back, his hand covering his mic. "My lord. Not the words!"

- - - - - - - 

The door to the condo slams shut, altering you to John's arrival home. You hear a heavy sigh before you see him.

"Went well then?" you call out from your perch on the living room couch, currently surrounded by a massive pile of tangled yarn and knitting needles. John had teased you about never having any hobbies outside of painting, while he seemed to collect more and more wherever he went. It was hopeless, but you hadn't given up just yet - didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"What a wretched start to the day. Roger was on one," he steams, finally coming into view. You can't help but swallow slightly at his flustered appearance. Shirt unbuttoned down to the center of his chest, flushed red with annoyance, cigarette in hand.

You hurriedly shove the yarn to the floor, surely just tangling it further, and pat the cushion beside you. John crosses the room in two quick steps and sinks onto the plush leather, sighing loudly once more.

"Went well then?" he mimics your earlier response, eyeing the chaotic pile of wool beneath his feet. 

"It has yet to break me," you respond softly, weaving your hand through his curls and scratching his head the way you know he likes. "What broke you, though? Want to tell me about it?"

"No," he states simply. "But I guess I have to."

You smile, turning to gaze at his profile. "Have to? That's new."

His head hits the back of the couch with an absorbed squish. "As I said, Roger was on one," he explains slowly, glancing towards you finally. "And he may have mentioned your name."

Sitting up a bit straighter, you face him fully. "Just me? Not us?" 

Both of you had expressed not wanting to go public with your relationship, especially the nature of how it started, but that was months ago. In all honesty, you hadn't thought about it much since. But just hearing that the secret might be out sent a surprising thrill through your body.

"Not explicitly, but it sure was implied," he confesses. His eyes search your face, gauging your response.

"What was said exactly?"

"I said you were a friend."

"A friend?"

"A very good friend," he reiterates, and this time, there's a bit more behind his voice. And you know. It's a mirroring excitement. The joyful possibility of anonymity no longer being a reason for holding back. Anything.

You grin, sliding yourself seamlessly into his lap. "Why don't you show me how good of a friend you can be then?"

John grins right back. "It would be my pleasure."

[rovewrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Hello everyone!

So for a little while now I’ve been working on a brand new Splatoon fic, and I would love to share it with you. I will post the warnings right here, because they’re rather significant, and please take them seriously - but if you’re still interested then give it a peek! 

WARNINGS: Psychological, Brainwashing, Torture, Conditioning, Emotional manipulation, Traumatic bonding, Adult situations BETWEEN CONSENTING ADULTS, Mind games, mild depictions of violence.

Summary: 

We all know what happened to Callie Cuttlefish between Splatoon 1 and Splatoon 2.

What if it wasn't Callie?

What if Octavio decided to go for a much more weaponized approach to taking down the inkling race?

Well, he would need an inkling trained in combat. An inkling who could give the NSS a run for their money.

He would need Agent 3.