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prorevenge · 5 years

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After months of putting up with my roommate from hell, I got the revenge of lifetime and screwed her over out of a fuckton of money and got her to pay rent and life has never been sweeter! (This is a long one)

This is a long one but very much worth the ride, so buckle up. (also, English isn't my native lang, sorry if there are any mistakes)

This story takes place a couple of years back. During college, I lived with several roommates, all of them were nice and we got along well, except for this one bitch, let's call her Karen. if Satan and Hitler had a child and that child had a child with Stalin and Cruella de Vil, that would be Karen for you, she is a loud-mouthed stupid, egocentric bitch who has the face that scare the shit out of a toilet. She would never clean up after herself, she would always leave her plates and things at the spot where she last used them. I have lost counts of how many times, I caught her stealing my clothes without asking and if you so much as touch her clothes she loses her shit on you, or her drinking our lactose-intolerant roommates almond milk and any time we confronted her for drinking it, she would shrug and say "I only had a sip, stop being so stingy." She plays her music loud at night, invites stranger without giving any heads up, a time or two she didnt pay rent even though her parents are FILTHY RICH and she is wearing gucci and prada shit, Karen also fucking lies about everything, even things that are not worth lying about. like if she woke up 7, and you ask her, she'll lie through her fucking teeth and say she rose with the sun rise because she is a natural. (ps, this is something i actually heard her say to her parents while she was skypeing them....so cringy, who the fuck says that? but i digress)

Months we have fucking put up with her, of course we tried to get other roommates but unfortunately when we all moved in everything, all documents and contracts were done in her name so kicking her out would require a lot of effort and most of us were busy with school and work and life happens. So we ignore it as much as we can and try to move on.

We are now all seniors and in our final semesters, meaning graduation was coming, AND Karen is planning a backpack trip across Europe with her friends as a graduation gift to herself, this is important so remember this.

One of our roommates and my closest friend, Sasha, has had a crush on a guy that lives down the hall. Any time the two of them are together, Sasha and the Guy keep giving each other googly eyes and blushing faces; it was sooo cute. Sasha is a verbal autistic person and has never dated anyone because she has a hard time with socializing and understanding social ques and subtlety, which lets face it, that is the core of dating, especially flirting but with a lot of encouragement from me and the final roommate, Lola we got her to ask him out. He said yes. She was so happy, you guys, she flew back into the apartment and did an hour of happy dance with her arms flailing about and a shit eatin grin on her face; needless to say we were all so happy. Karen caught wind of this and it just so happens at that time she was having relationship problems, I guess her bf finally realized he's dating human garbage. Not one to be outshined, Karen behind all of our backs went to the guy's place and spun lies about Sasha, saying she is a serial cheater and even made a fake account for Sasha's so called bf. the guy never called Sasha, and eventually weeks passed by he told us why but by then Sasha felt like the damage was done and lost interest in him.

I. WAS. FUCKING. FURIOUS.

This, this level of dickery and bloody pettiness is the straw that finally broke the camel's back and I vowed I wouldn't fucking leave until I served my slice of justice. Here's another character that you must know about, Prof C. His wife two years ago was in a horrible car accident and as a result is in a wheelchair, this is especially problematic because she was a stay home mom that took care of their two special needs kids and they have a toddler at home. Home life is a mess for him, he is running ragged between working and single-handedly is taking care of his family, the uni took pity and also feared the workload would see one of their best and most beloved teachers leave the school struck a deal with him to help him out. In all of his classes there will be quizzes and midterms, this doesnt change, but assignments you submit and he corrects at the end of the year, this is important cuz our uni has zero tolerance on proffs that dont constantly update the students course works so that students have the chance to improve their grades.

Karen, the lazy and stupid bitch she is, is somehow skating through his assignments, even though they require a shit tone of research and writing. I accidentally learned that one of her older friends told her that she only needs submit the paper on its due date and to only write the first 3 pages and use a paraphrase tool for the rest of the paper so the plagiarism software wont detect it and would think its original material and when the end of the year comes, submit a hard copy but with the first pages being her actual work and the rest being completely plagiarized, professional work. Prof C won't know cuz the likelihood a man as busy as him thoroughly checking the work of 120+ students is pretty low. I grinned. A plan was beginning to formulate in my head. Oh, sweet mother of Jesus, she is going down! All semester long I let her do this for all of the 7 papers, one of them which is a term paper that has 20% on it alone, all the while I spied and gathered all of her pass codes, social media, her student ID, everything.

The end of the year came and I compiled all of her assignments, both the original one with the paraphrasing tools she used to circumvent plagiarism and the one she finally handed them in, and I even made photos were there are side-to-side comparison of the assignments. This is a good start but not enough. So, One day chillin at the living room I open a conversation about relationships, Karen is two timing her new boyfriend and is sleeping with some other Person. so, I ask her questions like "don't you feel guilty for cheating?" and "You do realize this is wrong?" and I even paraphrase my words in a way that is vague but also clear, for example I would say "It's not fair, so many people work so hard everyday to be successful and you are here cheating and lying your way to success." Karen, narcissistic as fuck, would respond with snippets of I dont care and how she isnt cheating, she is only having fun and that everyone does it so why not her too. This is too good to be true, even her answers are vague, its like god put his hand on my shoulder, looked me right in the eyes and said, "burry this bitch". and Id be damned if I didnt. As you probably have guessed it by now, I was recording EVERYTHING. The recording plus the photos, and her assignments were more than enough evidence, I sent an anonymous email to the Professor, and i tell the girls so that they can prep for the shit storm thats coming. Three weeks later, results are out. she failed and LOST HER SHIT. She was screamin, crying, wailing, what a sight to see! you best believe, the girls and I were laughing. She tried to talk to the prof, but he was not having it. she cried and begged for a second chance but he said a hard no. So now she has two options: she goes ahead and doesn't graduate with us, and takes on a whole 'nother semester for one measly course or take summer course and cancel her trip to Europe, which mind you she spent a fuckton on, something like 13, 000$ and I know it could have been much cheaper but Princess Karen only wanted the best so yh. The next couple of weeks she spent sleepless nights because she was calling and cancelling all the reservations she made, tryin to get her money back BUT (again, GOD really was out for blood that day) because the cancellation was so close to some her trip most places refused to refund, or some charged her cancellation fees. She only managed to scrap 5.5 K back together, lossin 7.5 K. OUCH!

Its not over, having damning evidence I, with earned gusto, told her she was going to pay all of the bills till we move out, which was in two months, payback for all the times she was late on payment or defaulted and she would from now do her part of the house chores or else Im gonna send it all to the admin and faculty dean and she will fo sho be kicked out and all those uni years will have been for nothing. She hated it, she fucking threw tantrums and cussed me out but my god if she didnt do whats told. she cleaned her stuff, apologized to Sasha for what she did, I forced her to come clean to her BF (dont know the guy but the few times i met him he was super sweet to us and i felt bad for the guy), I watched her actually do the dishes for the first time in like years. IT was fucking amazing and I don't regret it one bit. In fact, anytime I feel sad now as an adult, i kick back my feet and reminiscine and a slow shit eatin grin draws itself upon my face.

tl;dr roommate was super mean, i found out she was cheating on her assignments and so i snitched on her and as a result she had to stay the summer and retake the class again or else she wouldn't graduate.

(source) story by (/u/let-the-write-one-in)

#prorevenge #by /u/let-the-write-one-in #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years

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A PERMenant Deal (Deaky x Reader)

A/N: This was created for @bensroger and the 3k fic challenge. My prompt was hella fluffy, and I took some creative liberties with it! Hopefully you all like it, pease excuse the ever so slightly strange timeline, I hope it worked in the end! If you liked this, I would love it if you would check out my other Queen/ Borhap fics on AO3, my name is Adrenaline_Roulette Peace and Love y’all!

The smell of chemicals filled John’s nose as he sat in a salon chair, a black smock draped over his shoulders and fastened securely at his neck. There was a brunette hair dresser stood behind him, attacking his hair with said chemicals, and Roger was sitting in the chair beside him, flipping through a cheap gossip magazine, occasionally grunting as he read an article. “It says here, that Brian is the most marriable…. And that I’m the most likely to die alone?!” Roger screeches, causing John to smirk. A hard tug at his hair quickly replaces the look with a frown though, as he curses the hairdresser under his breath.

“Why do you insist on reading articles about yourself? You know it’s all rubbish, right?” He sighs, watching Roger in the large mirror hanging before him. “What does it say about me? He asks, unable to keep his interest under wraps, these articles always made him laugh, because of their sheer stupidity.

Roger scans over the article quickly, before finding John’s name on the glossy paper, “Apparently you’re the most likely to have multiple girlfriends and never settle down.” He shrugs, wrinkling his nose at the words.

“Hm, well now that’s interesting. I’m sure (Y/N) and the kids would love to hear that.” John muses, as he watches his reflection, his hair being twisted up upon his scalp. “How do you think I should break the news that I have other women in my life? I could hire a skywriter?”

Roger scowls at him, placing the magazine down on his lap forcefully. “Deaky, I’m pretty sure that after you come home with a perm today, (Y/N) and your spawn won’t be at all surprised by anything that you say or do.”

John can’t help but nod in agreement, which causes the hairdresser to pull his hair harshly, to cease his movements. “She’s actually going to kill me when she sees this.” He sighs, drumming his long, calloused fingers against his jeans. Roger purses his lips as he mulls over his words, before nodding in agreement, and sign which doesn’t ease John’s nerves in the slightest.

“Excuse me Jane, your two o’clock is here.” Says a quiet voice of a blonde woman, who had suddenly appeared behind John’s stylist. She hums her acknowledgment, before turning towards the other woman.

“I’ll need you to finish Mr Deacon for me please, I don’t want to keep Mrs Gatten waiting.” The stylist, Jane, places her utensils down on her trolley, then looks back to John. “I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Lisa, she’ll get you all finished.” She smiles, before leaving for her next appointment.

Lisa sets up behind him, donning gloves to protect her skin from the chemicals that were required to perm John’s hair. She smiles happily at him, then turns her attention to Roger, biting her lip when he catches her eye, a blush flooding her cheeks rapidly. John rolls his eyes at the exchange, even married, Roger is still a flirt! “If you don’t mind me asking, why a perm? Out of all the styles you could’ve chosen, what made you pick this one?” Lisa asks gently, as she makes quick work of John’s hair.

“There was a bet.” John begins, before being interrupted by Roger.

“I would love to hear about the bet!” Lisa grins, focusing entirely on Roger, awaiting his explanation. He carefully folds the magazine, placing it down in the rack beside him, keeping the young woman in suspense.

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There was a deafening silence which had overtaken the usually bustling recording studio, which was shattered like glass when Brian coughed, causing everyone to be awoken from their trance like state. No one knew what to say, how could you possibly react to something like, like THAT? It was simple, John decided, you couldn’t. He would simply ignore the elephant in the room, that was the only thing for it.

Brian however, had other ideas entirely. “Freddie, you seem to have a caterpillar on your lip…” He chuckles, though even Brian can’t hide his surprise at the new look. It wasn’t objectionable per say, just highly unexpected.

“Well darlings, I figured it was time for a new look, and besides I find I look rather dashing this way.” Freddie grins, his pearly white teeth showing as a sharp contrast between the dark bush of his moustache.

“Right, just promise me this isn’t going to become the new look for the band alright? I mean, Brian’s got enough hair already, and I’m not entirely sure Roger can even grow facial hair.” John shrugs, dodging with expert timing as Roger throws one of his drum sticks at his head. Freddie laughs joyfully at the exchange, while Brian folds his arms across his chest, blowing a stray curl away from his eyes.

“I don’t have that much hair.” Brian mutters, causing Freddie to fall into fits of laughter, practically rolling on the floor.

“Bri, we could shave you and have your hair turned into costumes for the entire cast of cats!” John smirks, as he picks up Roger’s thrown drum stick, twirling it between his fingers, as Roger had shown him years before. There’s a moment where it looks as if Brian was about to argue, though he quickly thinks better of doing so and turns back to his guitar, plucking at the strings aimlessly.

Roger looks across at John, his eyes trained on the drumstick held in his right hand, glaring slightly. John lifts his eyebrow in challenge back at the blonde man, “You can have it back, if you apologize for throwing it.” He smirks.

“I don’t have anything to apologies for! You’re the one who insulted me!” Roger cries out dramatically. John looks away, and catches Freddie rolling his eyes at the child like response.

“Children, please. Deaky, please return Roger’s drumstick, I would hate for him to start playing to bongos on this new track.” Freddie sighs, strolling his way over to the drum kit where the two men stood.

Begrudgingly, John hands Roger back the drumstick, both refusing to make eye contact. This was a frequent occurrence, with both men being far too stubborn for their own good. “Excellent, and now that the band is properly equipped again, we can record!” Freddie claps excitedly, rather like a school teacher who wanted the classes attention.

Freddie was the last to record for the new track, the bass, drums and guitar all having been laid down the previous few days, all that was required now were Freddie and Roger’s vocals to complete the track. As Freddie sang his heart out, the others gathered in the sound booth, watching him through the window, grinning as he hit every note perfectly. “So, what do we think of the moustache?” John asks quietly, as the recording technicians work their magic.”

“I can’t lie, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m thinking that maybe I should grow a beard?” Roger chuckles, as Brian shoves his shoulder playfully, a wide grin spread across his lips.

“I suppose it isn’t one of his best looks, but he seems to love it…” Brian shrugs, as he lopes over to the well-worn couch at the back of the room, settling himself down on the green cushions.

John nods his agreement, turning his attention back to Freddie as the song comes to an end. “He always stands so close to the mic, I’m genuinely surprised he hasn’t eaten the thing yet.” Roger laughs deeply, gasping for breath just as Freddie enters the room, who casts a curious look at the gasping drummer.

“Roger darling, if you’re going to die, please do it quietly.” Freddie sighs, as he strides towards the sound desk, awaiting the playback to begin. One of the technicians starts the vocals, the booming voice of Mr Mercury pumping through the speakers. There’s an odd sound to the vocals however, a strange almost brushing noise sweeping across the mic. “What on earth is that?”

The band collectively turns their attention towards the technician. “I’m sorry Fred, but I think you were too close to the mic, and you kept brushing your moustache against it. We’re going to have to rerecord, this time with you a bit further away.”

Freddie looks shocked, and John is stuck between wanting to comfort his friend or laugh at his expense. Roger has already opted for the laugh option, while Brian seems to be facing the same decision as himself. John reaches a hand out, ready to place it upon Freddie’s shoulder, but just as he’s about to make contact, Freddie steps away, stomping back into the recording studio. “Well? Let’s bloody well do it darlings!” He calls.

John leans against the arm of the sofa where Brian had made himself comfortable, his long legs taking up the entire seat, leaving no room for anyone else. Roger doesn’t seem to find this an issue however, and promptly sits himself down atop Brian’s calves despite his protests. “Oh shut up will you Brian, I’m not that fucking heavy!” Roger grumbles, as he turns to John, taping him on the shoulder to get his attention. “So, about that moustache…”

“I’d be bloody surprised if it lasts a year at this rate! Especially if he has to keep rerecording everything because he can’t step back from the microphone!” John exclaims, gesturing wildly to the angry looking Freddie in the recording studio.

Roger’s eyes light up with glee, as he removes his ever-present sunglasses from his head, tucking them into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Wanna make a bet?”

John lifts an eyebrow down at the drummer, pursing his lips as he considers the offer, on the one hand, making bets with Roger could end in tears, though on the other hand, John felt he knew Freddie well enough to know the moustache wouldn’t be around for long. “You’re on. Winner gets to pick a new style for the loser.” He smirks, as their hands meet and shake twice. This was going to be good.

Roger grinned wickedly as their hands parted, Brian shaking his head softly at the look. “Deaky, you’re going to regret this I fear.” He sighed, as he opened the latest newspaper he could find, even that was a few weeks old though, flipping through the pages absent mindedly. John frowned slightly at Brian, he knew Freddie, this was just a phase, it wouldn’t last!

“I’d be bloody surprised if it lasts a year!” Was the phone call John had awoken to this morning, he was sure if he could see Roger, that he would be wearing a shit eating grin on the other end of the phone. He had been having a well needed sleep in, his arms wrapped securely around (Y/N)’s waist, her hair tickling his chin as she slept soundly in his embrace. Though now they were both wide awake, thanks to Roger’s phone call. Upon hearing the drummers voice on the line, John had promptly slammed the receiver down, cutting the conversation short, however he knew it wouldn’t be long before Roger either tried to call back, or better yet, showed up on John’s doorstep and forcefully dragged him out of the house.

A shrill cry from their young baby echoed through the house, causing both John and (Y/N) to grow more alert, as wakefulness overtook them. “Bloody Roger, I’ll kill him one day.” John hissed, as he rolled out of the duvet, shuffling his feet against the soft carpet, before pushing himself into a standing position. You rolled over onto your other side, watching as your husband stretched his arms above his head, exposing his midriff in the process.

“What did he want anyways? It’s unusual for someone as nocturnal as him to be conscious at this hour.” You laugh tiredly, sitting up against the headboard, pulling the sheet up to your chest to keep you warm. You recalled John mentioning something about being out with Roger today, though the details were fuzzy.

John turns back to look at you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. “Just got some band stuff to do is all, he said he’d drive for a change. I guess he just wanted to see if I was awake yet?” He shrugged, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was no real reason as to why he couldn’t tell you what he was doing, it was more the fact that he was too nervous to, you had always loved running your fingers through his hair, but with a perm, John feared those days may be over. “I’ll go and check on Joshua, see if it’s just the phone that woke him or something else.” John smiles, before leaving to go check on your young son.

You lack the energy to get out of bed and get moving for the day, however when your daughter Laura comes bouncing onto your bed, you find yourself eager to spend the day with her. “Come here you!” You laugh, as you wrap your arms around her torso, pulling her against your chest. She squeals as you do so, kicking her little legs as she flops against you.

“Can I help you make breakfast pretty please mommy?” Laura pleads, batting her long lashes up at you. You have no idea how she mastered that look, but you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her Uncle Roger.

You pretend to think over her request for a few moments, tapping your index finger to your chin. “Well, I suppose so.” You smile, as she launches herself off the bed, in a similar style to how she had arrived. Laura sings loudly as she skips out of your bedroom, and into the kitchen, knowing you wouldn’t be too far behind. Sliding out of bed, you wrap your nightgown around yourself, padding into the kitchen where your daughter was helping herself to a spoonful of peanut butter, she was definitely yours. You lift an eyebrow at her as you watch her clean off the spoon, carefully replacing the jar in the pantry, a cheeky grin on her round face. “We’ll pretend I didn’t see you do that, okay?”

Laura chuckles softly, following behind you as you move around the kitchen, collecting the necessary ingredients for pancakes. You would try and make them a little bit healthy, by adding on some fresh berries, though you knew both John and Laura would pick them off, opting for syrup instead. “Joshy!” Laura squeals, jumping up and down on the spot as John walks in carrying your son in his arms, using one hand to press his pacifier against his lips. The moment Joshua had been born, Laura had taken to him, spending as much time as humanly possible by his side. It was a lovely sight, though you did wonder how things would change as they grew older.

“Hey now, I thought you were helping me? How else am I supposed to transfer the pancakes when they’re cooked, without my little spatula holder?” You pout, watching the conflict cross Laura’s face. To stay with her brother, or help cook? That is the question.

“Go on, go help your mum. Josh will be right here when you’re finished.” John smiles, tilting his head in your direction for Laura to follow. Somewhat reluctantly, she returns to your side, though a large grin soon spreads over her face when you hand her back her prized spatula. She was far too young to help with the actual cooking, so instead Laura was given the very important task of moving each pancake from a plate you put them on, onto a plate for each individual person. Standing beside you, she wore the most serious face she could muster, holding her spatula in a death grip, waiting for the first pancake to be ready.

John moved around behind you in the dining room, strapping Josh into his high chair, and tying a bib around his neck. He was at the stage now, where he would eat bits and pieces of adult food, so long as they were soft, and in tiny pieces. Pancakes where one of his favourites, though even with nothing on them, he still managed to make a mess all over the place, making the bib more or less just for decoration. After getting Josh settled in his high chair, John headed back into the kitchen, to retrieve the maple syrup, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he passed you. His morning stubble scratched your face gently, causing you to scrunch up your face in protest. “Don’t worry. I’ll shave after breakfast.” He chuckled deeply, moving back into the dining room to keep Josh entertained.

It only took another fifteen minutes before all the batter had been turned into perfectly golden pancakes, with three on Laura’s plate, one on Josh’s, and the rest split between yourself and John. As you had predicted, the bowl of berries went mostly untouched, that was until you dumped a spoonful onto Laura’s plate, much to her distaste. Just as she’s about to protest, the front door bursts wide open, revealing a grinning Roger Taylor. “Morning Deaky, (Y/N)…”

“Uncle Roggie!” Laura screams, jumping out of her chair, and darting over to the blonde man before he can greet her. She wraps her arms around his legs, clinging to his jeans for dear life, as he leans down to pick her up, spinning her around in circles.

“Spawn of Deacon!” He chuckles, as your daughter laughs merrily, despite her growing dizziness.

“Careful there Rog, if you don’t stop spinning her, we’ll need to get out a mop.” You warn gently, feeding Josh a small bite of his pancake, grinning as he claps his pudgy hands together. John leans his chin against your shoulder, both watching your son with fond smiles.

Roger places Laura back on her feet, she grips his hand tightly as she attempts to stand still on the spot, waiting for the world to stop spinning around her. “Fair point, I’d rather not clean today thanks.” He shrugs, as he follows Laura further into the house, and into the dining room, stealing a pancake off of John’s plate.

“Um, excuse me? You break into our house, try to kidnap my daughter, then steal my food!” John grumbles, glaring at his bandmate as he bites into the stolen pancake.

“I didn’t break in, you gave me a key remember!”

Roger rolls his eyes, licking the syrup off his fingers, before focusing intently on John. “This is an emergency Deaky, we have a deadline to meet remember?”

John wants to kill him, surely it wouldn’t be that hard to find a new drummer for Queen? “Roger, it’s our one day off before we’re back in the studio. Can’t you let me enjoy breakfast with my family? Just for ten minutes?”

The blonde considers his request for a moment, and for a split second, John thinks that maybe he’ll leave them be for a little while. “Nah mate, we’ve got places to be, people to see, and all that jazz.” Roger smirks, as he scoops a handful of berries into his palm. Laura watching him in fascination the entire time, she too leans across to scoop some berries into her own hand, though stops when you grab the spoon from her. It was rather frightening how much she idolised her Uncle Roger.

“Why don’t you just take the bloody bowl with you?” You muttered under your breath, it was just loud enough for Roger to hear however, and with a wink, he picks up the bowl, and walks to the front door with it.

“I’ll meet you at the car! Thanks for the bowl (Y/N)!” He yells, throwing a raspberry into the air, tilting his head back, then catching it in his mouth. “Bye spawn of Deacon!” He waves at Laura and Josh, your daughter waving back frantically.

John pushes himself away from the table, buttoning up a few buttons on his shirt, leaving the top few undone. “Sorry, it looks like I have to go now.” He sighs, leaning down and pressing soft kisses to your children’s cheeks. He kisses your lips gently, lingering slightly, both of you reluctant to part ways. The sound of Roger blasting his horn on the street is enough to make you part, both sighing deeply.

“Please make sure you get that bowl back. We’re down to five as it is, I really don’t want to go and get more just because Roger decided he wanted to keep one.”

“I’ll see what I can do, though I can’t make any promises.” John grins, pecking your lips once more, before leaving your home, heading out to Roger’s car, and sliding into the passenger seat. Roger was staring straight ahead, making not sign that he was aware of John’s presence. “(Y/N) Wants her bowl back.” Is all he says, causing Roger to break out into a grin.

“I love the fact that I steal her husband at nine in the morning, and all she’s worried about is a bloody bowl!” He howls with laughter, as he pulls out into the street, travelling down a route John was unfamiliar with. “What if I was about to murder you? Bet she would feel pretty bad about her last words to you being about a bowl.”

“I’m pretty sure she knows us well enough, to know that if you were going to murder me, you would do it on stage in front of millions of people, just so you could get your face on the front page one last time.” John shrugged, tapping his foot along to the beat of the music playing on the radio.

Roger remains silent for a few moments, mulling over John’s words. “You’re right, she does know us well.” He finally admits, before pulling up in front of a hair salon. “Alright then Deaky, time to get you look beautiful!” Climbing out of the car, John swallows deeply as he looks at the images plastered on the windows of the salon. Women with brightly coloured hair, in varying degrees of length, pout on the posters, all advertising a product that could make you too look just like them. “Let’s go!”

“And that’s how we ended up here.” Finishes Roger, who now had his feet propped up against the arm of John’s chair. During the retelling of their story, John had been moved over to a different section of the salon, to a seat where a large hair dryer had been lowered onto his head, allowing the chemicals to work their magic on his hair.

“You can come back over here now.” Lisa smiled, as she pulled the helmet off John, leading him back to his original seat. “Well it sounds like you all get up to a lot of mischief. On the plus side John, I think this is really going to suit you!�� She smiled, as she began working her nimble fingers over his scalp, taking out the rollers that had been used to set his perm.

Roger watched eagerly, as John’s new hairdo slowly took shape. “See, I told you Deaky, you’re going to a hit with all the ladies soon!” He grins, as he brushes his own hair away from his eyes, not wanting to obstruct his view in any way.

Twenty minutes later, Lisa removed the last roller, running her fingers through the tight ringlets that now bounced all around John’s head. They weren’t the same as Brian’s, though they were damned near similar, John finally understood why so many people accused Brian of having a perm. “So, they’ll stay quite tight for a few days, then they’ll loosen up a little bit and sit more naturally.” Lisa smiled, as she brushed his hair this way and that, until all the strands fell in a way, she deemed suitable.

“Thank you, I suppose. Now is this the time I ask about any rules when it comes to having hair like this?” John sighed softly, studying himself closely in the mirror, perhaps this style was growing on him? It didn’t look nearly as strange as he had thought it would, if anything, it rather suited him.

“Just make sure you don’t get it wet within the next seventy-two hours, otherwise all our hard work will be for naught.” She smiled, as she unclasped the smock from John’s neck, folding it neatly over her arm. Roger followed her up to the register, handing over a small bundle of notes.

“When news gets out about Deaky’s new look, reporters will be all over the place, looking for whoever styled him. Any chance you could maybe not mention anything about the bet?” Roger smiled, with what must be one of his only genuine smiles of the day.

Lisa smiled, taking the notes from Roger, placing some into the register, and a few into her pocket. “I’m sure I can remember to do that.” Was all she said, before Roger turned away to collect John. He groaned as he looked out the salon window, rain splattering heavily against the glass.

“Right then, Deaky come here.” Roger instructed, as John made his way over to him, resting his hands on his hips. “We can’t get your hair wet, so I’m going to walk behind you with a magazine over your head, alright?”

“You don’t trust me to protect my own hair?” John grumbled, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans.

Roger frowned at him, opening a magazine and creasing the spine to keep the pages open. “Do I trust you to not get your perm wet, thus rendering our time here pointless? Let me think about that…. Of course I bloody don’t!”

“We never said how long the style had to last. The bet was, that I just had to get the style. Technically I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal.” John shrugged, though he allows Roger to hold the magazine above his head as they make their way back to his car. Roger blasts the heater the moment he turns the key in the ignition, the car warming up in minutes, drying both men from their mad dash through the rain.

“Did your hair get wet?” Roger queries, as he pulls out into the main street again, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel despite their being no music, John just assumed he was working on another song. Carefully, John brushed his hands against his curled hair, feeling for any rain that may have made its way through his make shift umbrella.

“Sadly, I think it survived.” He smirked, watching as Roger gripped the steering wheel tighter, rolling his eyes.

“I paid good money for that perm Deaky, the least you can do is wear it with pride!”

John simply nodded along, opting to stare out the window, watching the scenery as it passed them by in a blur. There was no use in fighting about it, he had a perm now, that’s all there was to it. The drive home took far less time than John seemed to recall, and all too soon the car was parked out the front of Johns home. “I’m dead, I’m honest to god going to die today. She’s been home alone all day with the kids, she’ll be tired and stressed as it is, and then I walk in looking like this?” John mutters, gesturing to his hair wildly, as Roger resumes his position behind him, holding the magazine over his hair once more.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll love it.” Roger grins, using his emergency key to open their front door once again. Shoving John through the entry, causing him to stumble. In his effort to stop himself from falling over, he grabs onto the coat rack by the door, knocking the entire thing to the floor with a loud crash.

Your voice calls from down the hallway, echoing off the walls. “Who’s there?” There’s an edge of worry to her voice, and John is sure that you’ve grabbed both children, just on the off chance there was an intruder.

“It’s just me love!” John calls back, and he can almost hear (Y/N) sigh in relief. Roger sweeps his hand before John, allowing him to enter the soon to be war zone first. “Oh, why thank you.” John hisses, his lip curling up into a snarl. Roger simply grins, running his hand through his blonde locks.

Each step seems to take John an hour to complete, bringing him closer to the loungeroom where he had heard your voice. His heart races in his chest, pounding against his ribcage violently. Eventually he turns the corner, spotting you laying down, with Laura tucked into your side on the sofa, and Josh playing with his building blocks beside them on the rug. John’s shadow looms over his family, and your eyes snap up to look at him, a smile already tugging at your lips. It freezes the moment you see him though, your eyes widening at what you were looking at.

“Deacon spawn, come over here!” Roger yells abruptly, as he crashes in behind John, crouching down and opening his arms wide. Laura rolls off the sofa, leaving you behind, running into her uncle’s arms. He lifts her up, waltzing out of the room, and into the children’s play room.

“John Richard Deacon. What the hell have you done?” You bark out, leaping off the sofa, standing directly in front of your husband. John had the good dignity to look slightly guilty as you stared him down, shoving his hands into his pockets, his feet shuffling against the floor.

“Listen, (Y/N), I can explain!” John tries, but you hold your hand up in front of him, signalling him to stop talking.

“God, I can’t pay attention to anything else but you!” You sigh, looking directly at his perm, rather than his eyes. “What were you thinking? Were you even thinking?” You raise your voice, throwing your arms to your side in exasperation. You didn’t hate the look, you hated the fact that John hadn’t mentioned anything to you about doing it, and that Roger had clearly known what was happening long before you.

“Guys, your child is on fire!” Roger shrieks from the other end of the house, in his usual attempt at stopping you and John from bickering.

“Roger, shut up!” You both groan simultaneously, hearing Laura laugh loudly.

“One day, I’m going to say that, and your child really will be on fire, and you guys will look like the worst parents in the world!” He grumbles, though grins at Laura.

Laura doesn’t repay the look in kind opting instead to fold her arms across her chest. “Is it me or Joshy going on fire?”

Roger looks down at the young child in surprise, not having expected her to ask such a question. “Why, neither of you of course! I mean another kid!”

Laura nods her head in earnest, grinning up at Roger. “Oh, so you mean maybe the baby in Mommy’s tummy will be on fire?”

Roger is, for the first time in a long while, completely lost for words. The sounds of his best mate, and his wife arguing in the kitchen are drowned out by the numerous thoughts running through his head. “What baby is that Laura?”

“Mommy told me to keep it a secret, but she won’t mind me telling you. She says I’m going to be a big sister two times!” Laura smiles, as she brushes the hair on her doll, handing one dressed as a princess to Roger. “You can be Giselle today.” And just like that, all baby talk is over, leaving Roger with far more questions than he started with.

John was leaning against the kitchen counter now, keeping his eyes on you as you paced around the tiled floor. “What next? First Freddie and his moustache, then Roger started bleaching his hair, now you get a perm! What’s the next step? Is Brian going to shave his head?”

As if on cue, Brian allows himself into their home, swinging the door shut behind himself, despite Freddie being right behind him. “What’s this about me now?” He calls, placing a bottle of wine down on the kitchen table as he passes it.

“Brian!” You cry, on the verge of tears, your emotions running on high. “Are you bald? Please tell me you’re not bald! Come take a look at what my bloody husband has done!” You shout in rapid fire succession.

John leans his head back, staring up at the ceiling, he didn’t expect you to get quite so worked up over this, and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe something else had occurred today, to make you so stressed. Brain waves as he enters the kitchen, grinning widely as he spots John’s hair, folding his arms across his chest as he leans beside the bassist. “Am I bald? No love, this is all me.” He grins widely, shaking his wild mane of curls over his shoulders.

“Oh, thank God.” You breathe out, though that doesn’t stop you from reaching out and tugging on one of is curls, sighing when his hair stays in place. John reaches out, taking your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand soothingly. “Really though Brian, just look at this. How am I supposed to focus on anything when I’ve got this hanging around?”

“You make it sound like I’ve sprouted a second head. Besides, it’s really starting to grow on me.” John shrugs, pulling you into his side, and rubbing his curls against your cheek. You can’t help but giggle, the soft brush of his hair feeling rather pleasant.

For the fourth time that day, your front door slams open, and you make a mental note to take back all the emergency keys you had given to John’s bandmates. Freddie struts through the hall, posing with his lips pouted as he enters the kitchen. “Well hello darlings, Roger said to meet him here, and dear lord! Deaky what have you done!” Freddie cries, the light leaving his usually sparkling eyes.

John sighs once again, pressing his palm to his forehead, causing Brian to chuckle deeply. “Freddie, calm down. I’ve already gone through this once. There was a bet Roger and I made, after you grew your moustache. I didn’t think it would last, Roger did. So we agreed that if it was still hanging around in a year then…”

Freddie holds his hand out, just as you had done earlier, and John stops mid-sentence. “I’m sorry Deaky, I love you. But I just can’t pay attention to anything that you’re saying! We’ll discuss your lack of faith in my moustache later.” And with that, Freddie turns on his heel, and glides back to the front door, shutting it firmly behind him.

“Well, that could have gone far better. With both of you.” John shrugs, staring at the spot where Freddie had been not moments, Brian nodding besides him.

“Hey, at least I didn’t leave!” You defend, resting a hand mindlessly over your stomach, scratching your nails against the material of your shirt.

“No, instead you just threatened to kill me! That’s so much better.” John huffed, lifting his hand away from his face, and looking over at you. You simply shrugged at his statement, at the end of the day, you hadn’t actually killed him.

Brian grins at your bickering, shaking his head at the sight of you both. You fought like children sometimes, yet always managed to make amends. “Is anyone else slightly concerned about how quiet Roger and Laura are being?” He queried, stepping through the kitchen and peering up the hall towards the playroom.

“Actually, yeah. I don’t like the silence.” John hummed, following behind Brian, you also followed, not wanting to be left behind. You knew they weren’t up to anything too horrible, generally when Laura and her uncle fell quiet, it was because they were drawing, a task which your daughter took very seriously.

As if they had heard you all wondering what they were up to, Roger came parading out with your giggling daughter on his shoulders, both with wide grins on their cheeky faces. “I know a secret about you.” Roger smirks, looking directly at you, his blue eyes shining brightly.

You roll your eyes at their antics, looking over at Josh as he clapped two blocks together, giggling at the clunking sound they made. “No you don’t Rog.” You sighed, shaking your head gently, curling your fingers around John’s. You felt his grip squeeze yours, his calloused fingers rough against your knuckles.

Roger turns his attention to John now, his canines poking over his lip as he grins, looking just like the Cheshire cat in that moment. “Hey John, I guarantee you that I know something about (Y/N) that you don’t.”

“Not likely mate, we’re practically joined at the hip. We know everything about each other.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Roger smirks darkly.

“Never again.”

#bensroger #abbys3kfics #queen fic #deaky x reader #john deacon #brian may #freddie mercury #roger taylor #deaky imagine #disco deaky

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viralhottopics · 7 years

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A Definitive Ranking Of 2000s Rom Coms

Although people who peaked in high school like to act poetic about how great the 2000s were, they werent actually any better than the present day. I mean, it was a time when Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake wore matching denim outfits in public and nobody carted them off to an insane asylum.

But Im prepared to make a concession on two points: 1) At least we werent under the administration of a sentient slime mold wearing a bad wig. 2) The 2000s were a golden age for romantic comedies, mostly thanks to Judy Greers tireless efforts to play every heroines best friend. Plus, only like half the jokes were sexist, and there was about an 80% chance pre-pretentious Matthew McConaughey would show up.

Obviously, a betch has to be picky about her rom-comssome are shitty in a good way, but others are best avoided in case someone catches you watching them. To guide your Netflix viewings, here’s a totally objective list of 00s rom coms. If you disagree, which Im sure everyone will, please note that Im not actually forcing you to watch these movies; Im just saying that if you regularly watch any of the bottom five, you have terrible taste.

14.

is considered a modern classic by two groups of people. 1) men in their late 20s with a crush on Natalie Portman and a thriving quarter-life crisis and 2) 8th graders in 2004 under the assumption that any movie that features a Shins track in its soundtrack is automatically deep. To everyone else, its a film about self-absorbed white people whining about their lives until theyre magically fixed by the power of mixtapes. There are approximately a zillion issues with this film, beginning with Zach Braffs complete lack of expression and ending with the fact that you cant cure real depression by listening to The Shins, no matter how clearly superior the soundtrack is to anything else in this film. Worst of all, though, is the fact that Natalie Portman played a manic pixie dream girl so obnoxious I still dream about strangling her character sometimes. Padme deserves so much better.

13.

Im not saying romantic comedies have to make much sense, but s plot is mystifying. Matthew McConaugheys parents are tired of him living at home, so they call in a lady high class escort (Sarah Jessica Parker) whose job is literally seducing men into moving out of their parents basements and unceremoniously dumping them. Because that’s plausible, and not at all fucked up to force your son to fall in love with someone you’re paying. Ridiculous premise aside, you know a movie is terrible when famed nicegirl Zooey Deschanel is the best thing about it.

12. Monster-in-Law

In case you missed this one, and for your sake I hope you did, is about Jane Fonda inexplicably being terrible to Jennifer Lopez, who walks a lot of dogs and is engaged to Fondas son. That right there should tell you all you need to knowI cannot think of one movie that JLo was in that was anything above mild torture, and we’re supposed to root for her character why, exactly? If my son was engaged to a full-time dog walker you can best believe I’d do everything short of actual murder to put a stop to that bullshit.

11.

Im told some people love this movie, but Jesus fucking Christ, is it possible for the two main characters to be any more appalling? Here you have two assholes manipulating the shit out of each other and just generally acting psychotic, all to win a stupid bet with their friends. They really should call it “How To Act Like A Psychopath And Lose Your Dignity.”

10.

Not gonna lie, I fucking adored when I was an impressionable preteen. It had time travel! Mark Ruffalo! A makeover scene! Years later, the movie is still fun to watch, even if it is way too obsessed with the 80s, but the jokes are more cute than funny. Also, why would anyone allow their 13-year-old child to go to a sleepover hosted by a 30-year-old? That is … questionable to say the least. Not to mention Jennifer Garner’s character does a reverse transformation from a betch into a nicegirl and dumps her hot pro bf in favor of her formerly fat friend. Blah blah, true love, I don’t give a fuck. Tenth.

is close to being wrapped in cutesy narration, but it’s far superior. For one thing, it reintroduced the world to Joseph Gordon-Levitts dimples. For another, it manages to be a fairly realistic depiction of a shitty millennial relationship without being super fucking depressing. But thats also kind of the problemrom coms arent supposed to be realistic, theyre supposed to be clich and feel-good, and I don’t care what you say, Summer is a thot. I have literally stayed up at night mapping how she could have possibly met someone worthy of engagement a mere 118 days after she broke up with Tom, and only six days after attending a wedding as his guest (yes I did the mathI told you; this movie keeps me up at night). No matter how you slice it, she had to have cheated on somebody.

Full disclosure: As a Southern betch, Im stoked that takes place right next door. (Dear Hollywood: An entire country exists between New York and LA.) But even though it features Patrick Dempsey as the other man, Josh Lucas with a dreamy Southern accent, and Reese Witherspoon, there are still some issues. Mainly, WTF WERE YOU THINKING, MELANIE? Did you really dump your future president fianc for your secret redneck husband just so “the first boy you kissed could also be your last”? I’ve heard of trying to keep your number down, but damn if this isn’t some delusional shit.

Everyone on planet Earth can relate to having a batshit crazy family, and thats exactly what makes appealing. The two leads are fine, considering they’re not Kate Hudson or Matthew McConaughey, but the extended family is everyones favorite part of the movie. Honestly the most memorable moment to come out of this movie is the “put some Windex on it”pretty good deal for Windex, not so much for the people who actually starred in the movie. However, it does get points for the memorable line: “The man may be the head of the household, but the woman is the neck and she can turn the head any way she pleases.”

The plot is pretty flimsy (a Canadian businesswoman has to marry her assistant to avoid deportation) but everyone loves a story where the couple starts out hating each other and eventually falls in love. The cast is what makes this movie pure rom com gold: Sandra Bullock, Ryan Reynolds, and Betty fucking White, who gifted us with the infamous Native American dance scene. Basically, it’s predictable but ridiculous, making it better than some of the other garbage movies on this list.

Admittedly, is probably to blame for some of the chubby man-child/beautiful, svelte woman couplings we see in the media that give men unrealistic beauty expectations (of the types of women they can expect to date), otherwise known as The Beyonc/Jay Z Phenomenon. But whatevs. Its a good movie. Seth Rogen has that whole dad bod thing going onapparently a thing some people are intoand Katherine Heigl was at the top of her rom com game before she pissed off the entire cast of .is actually hilarious, which is enough to make up for the fact that Katherine Heigl appears in it.

Even aside from my undeniable crush on youthful Sandra Bullock, is a quintessential early-2000s romantic comedy. Allow me to explain. 1) It stars an ambitious career woman who dont need no man. 2) But she kind of wants one anyway, and everyone realizes what a catch she is when she puts on lipstick and a dress. 3) Did I mention its plot is literally an extended makeover scene as Bullock goes from bad ass FBI agent to bad ass beauty pageant contestant? I rest my case. Add in some cute female friendships and a scene in which Bullock teaches us how to fend off an attacker, and its basically required viewing every year.

You had to know was going to make the list despite this amazing take-down article of why it’s actually terrible. With approximately a bajillion storylines going on, its hard not to find one you like and get invested, and it doesnt hurt that the film features every well-known British actor under the sun. Im not sure how the movie manages to juggle all the different plots without being confusing and/or boring, but Im not gonna question it. However, this shit is TOO FUCKING LONG. If I have to pop an Adderall just to make it through a damn movie (which I do), you need to send your editors back to the drawing board.

is the perfect example of a rom com thats super clich in theory, but in practice, its so fucking heartwarming it doesnt even matter (ugh). Katherine Heigl plays ultimate nicegirl Jane (in case the fact that her name is “Jane” wasn’t enough of a clue), whos been part of 27 weddings and miraculously hasnt gone broke from buying all the bridesmaid dresses. The dudes are pretty forgettable, but Janes psychotic sister and slutty best friend totally steal the spotlight, elevating the film to truly betchy heights.

P.S. For once, James Marsden plays the leading man, so his preternaturally perfect face gets more screen time, #bless.

Bridget Joness Diary is the ultimate feel-good movie, as in its literally impossible to watch it without feeling your icy soul thaw ever so slightly at the end. The titular character starts out fat, single, and past the age of 30, so basically our worst nightmare. By the end, though, she manages to bang Hugh Grant and Colin Firth, land a better job, and become a self-described wanton sex goddess. If those arent your life goals, you clearly need to start your own self-help journey.