#carriewrites

Sure thing! I’m gonna make it Brian since he’s the birthday boy today! And I’ll make it a headcanon!

He walks in, absolutely drained. It was a long day of recording for the latest album.

His fingers are calloused, and his eyes are drooping. He honestly doesn’t know how he doesn’t fall asleep on his way back home.

There is one reason why: it’s a freezing cold night. As he sees the garden of the entrance and the lights on from the windows

He looks at the white door, entrance to his home. Full of his books, the windows where you can see the sky, and most of all, you. 

Smiling, he walks in. His clogs sound like hooves on the tile floor.

You peek over the edge of the couch and chirrup out a “hello Bri!” while your show continues on the television. There is a tray set before you with the cold remains of your dinner and an empty cup of the drink of your choice.

“Hello sweetheart...keeping warm?” he begins, but as you start to stand up, your blanket drooped over you.

He looks down and sees, half-hidden from the blue and grey plaid blanket draped over you that there is something brown in your arms. Is it an animal?

As you walk closer, it’s a brown teddy bear with a black bow tie around its neck.

You go up and kiss his cheek in greeting, “need anything, Brian?” you ask.

“I’m not hungry but...is that a teddy bear? I never saw you with one before?”

Blinking, you look down and laugh. “My mother brought over some old stuff she found, she didn’t want to get rid of it, you know.”

You walk over, the bear still in your arms. Plopping down in front of the couch, you wrap the blanket around you, grateful for its warmth on this cold night.

 Then Brian walks forward.

“I can’t believe I’m jealous right now of a stuffed toy,” he says half-jokingly.

He leans forward, his long hands gently caress your sides.

Smiling, you put the toy away and pull him into your chest, wrapping your arms around him.

It’s definitely warmer now.

You bet!!!! I need some indulgent, distracting fluff right now! 

Also, I will assume that by “family’ you mean “starting a family with the BohRap boys” ie them as dads. Please let me know if it’s not what it is!

So if your life involved starting a family with...

Rami

He would spoil that child rotten

It’s not even funny- every shopping trip even to fetch groceries (or from someone getting him groceries bc of the press) he will insist on getting your baby some kind of little snack or toy or new shoes or socks.

When you say no, he widens and then droops his eyes like a puppy and says “pleeeeease!”

His family loves to come over and play and even babysit when you both are busy. His mom knows several lullabies and they plan on teaching the baby everything about coming to America when its old enough.

Though introducing the baby to his twin brother, Sami, was a different deal.

Sami decided to be as clean-shaven as his brother when he first stopped by for dinner, and the reaction on your baby's face was priceless.

It kept looking between Sami and Rami with a slack jaw as if thinking “you’re dad...but you’re also dad....who is dad????”

When the baby is about two years old they always insist on running and hugging Rami every time they see him and it’s adorable.

Joe

First off, you bet he would get a baby carrier the day after the baby arrived and wear it with the child all the time!

Even walking around NYC with sunglasses (and matching sunglasses for the kid) and a fanny pack full of bottles, supplies, diapers, etc.

Though, when he has to look after the little one, he likes to make funny faces to make the baby laugh.

After a few years pass, he has conversations even though the child can only speak in little words or baby talk.

“Uh-oh!” “That was just half a sippy cup of orange juice but that is an uh-oh indeed!”

When the kid is four years old, he shows them Jurassic Park (covering their ears during the swear words!). But they don’t realize Tim is dad!!! And when he says so they don’t believe him!

Plus he would love playing with the kid- from letting them climb all over to “broccoli punching” them to dressing up in a tutu and pretending to be fairy princesses with the child!

He also plays bass for them, like singing a little lullaby when they can’t sleep.

Gwilym

Gwil would definitely cry tears- actual, large, salty tears- when the baby arrives. He would hold it in silence, almost awe.

Then he would just say “hi there...I’m your dad. I’ve waited for you for a long time and now...I just...” and then kiss its forehead.

He would document every “first” the kid does. And keep it in a special notebook.

Though he would love to swing the baby and hum little songs to it all the time. In fact, when the baby first says “dada” he calls his parents in excitement.

That polite little kid would always say “tank you dada,” in the cutest voice.

When it's old enough, you all go hiking and camping together! Often roasting marshmallows by a fire!

He would always read to the child even though your child has a tendency to always ask “why” to everything.

The child would also hang out with him while watching soccer or rugby games- albeit sometimes with a coloring book if they don’t get into it. But as long as their dad gets them a hot chocolate and explains it a little bit they don’t mind!

Ben

I think Ben would be the protective type of dad. Almost helicopter levels at the beginning!

“Oh no you don’t! If you’re going down the slide! Daddy has to go with you!”

But he would love to play with the baby- tossing it lightly up and down but catching it.

When they are older, he loves swinging your child under his arms. He moves around and they wriggle and kick and giggle and he can’t help but smile.

When the kid is old enough- they learn they can Facetime with daddy when he’s filming and show him their drawings or what they’re reading or playing with.

But the kid is also fascinated by playing drums from banging spoons on pots in the kitchen and Ben insists they take a few lessons- soon.

Sometimes he also plays “make-believe” like Joe, though Ben is always the dragon or monster the kids has to fight, and then he has to “play dead.” and it’s hysterical!

And when he arrives home from filming- they always make a big sign on the house saying “welcome home daddy!” with a crayon and marker used drawing of your child and Ben!

Hello, there anon! I am so sorry this took so long (Secret Santa Season hit). But here is the blurb! I hope you enjoy it!

tw: swearing, mentions of sex, angst that ends in fluff.

He was a kind man, he made you laugh, he was smart, and he loved you. 

He was also married. To the Emperor's mistress. And you just changed his firewood.

Scrubbing the floors a little harder, you noticed the redness on your knuckles. The skin was rough. Blood seeped out. All that soap and water wrecked your palms. And the emperor often left a mess in every room that you had to clean up. 

And whenever she walked by, her red silk skirts training after her with the click of her heels down the green hallway, you couldn’t help it. You looked. Right at her hands. Smooth and white from not a day of hard work. A hard day's work that included drinking wine, tossing balls onto the grass, and spreading her legs to the Emperor with a smile on her face as you held her crying husband in the other room.

Grigor was miserable. Obviously. And you were miserable here. 

The other day Lady Svenska insisted on making blush by pricking your finger with her sewing needle. Blood dribbled out and you tapped it on her cheek, biting back the tears of pain.

You had chamber pots to empty. Instead, you ran to the Dymov apartments. The second you saw Georgiana leave, you knocked desperately at the door.

Grigor always greeted you with a kiss. He led you to a chair and handed you a towel.

“This…this is ridiculous…” he mumbles. “They can’t treat you like this.”

“But I’m…I’m just a serf…” you mutter. You were just another pair of working hands to wipe asses and be tossed into a fire when a plague broke out.

“I used to think serfs were just…just there, but you! Y/N- you’re sweet and good and brave! I used to be so…so miserable here all the time, now I just wait for you to appear!”

Eyes getting watery, despite the sting of the cloth on your hand, you smile up at him.

“And I used to be miserable here until I met you….” you spoke lovingly.

“I can’t believe they did this to you…” he continues. The white cloth he wraps tenderly around your hand seems to contrast the red walls of his room.

“I can’t believe your wife doesn’t regret fucking the emperor,” you retorted boldly. It was on your chest.

He looks ghostly white at the mention of it.

“I’m sorry, it…it’s just this place…everything about it and I keep seeing…how miserable you are with her. Why can’t we do something about it?” you asked.

“He’s my Emperor, he won’t let her go…and if he lets her go, she’ll find a way to run back to him…” he said. You hear giggles and a smashing of glass outside. 

You huffed, both of you held onto each other, hearts slowing. Clinging as if for life.

“But…” he mumbled.

“But what…” you asked. You bite your lip and stare down at your hands. The prick mark is dimmer. Still present, but weak.

“It doesn’t…have to be this way. It’s always in this palace, this place….what if we…changed location…to a place where we don’t have to hide when we’re...together like this...” he suggested.

“I…I have some family. And…I clean Archie’s room every week. I’ve noticed certain documents…”

You looked up at him.

“The right ones…ones that end marriages...” you confess. A wicked smile crawls up your face and his.

A week later, Grigor crept up from his bed alone. It was the early part of the morning where the sun was present, but barely, Peeking out from the edge of the sky. He left his wedding ring and a signed paper of divorce for the Dymov couple. He folded it up, wrote Georgiana’s name along with a brief, angry letter saying goodbye. With a deep sigh, he slipped the ring off of his right hand, placed it on the desk in front of the fire, and walked out.

Meeting him, you put on your grey cloak. You left no letter. You had no real friends here. None you would trust this with. In the stables, you both greet each other with a squeeze of your hand, and only a few belongings in a small bag.

Hopping onto a small, discreet cart, Grigor snapped the reigns on the horses and both of you went away. He kept urging the horses to run as fast as possible. Baskets of vegetables from the kitchen were stuffed in the back. No one would think that vegetable farmers would be a Count and Servant eloping.

Your heart was pounding. That large grey palace slowly grew smaller…smaller…and smaller. You were far away by the time the sun rose and the rooster cried.

Partway through, you shivered from the cold Russian air. Grigor glanced up at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Nervous. Excited.”

“What did your family say?”

“They’d like to witness the wedding. It won’t be big. We will just say ‘I do’ and that’s it. There is an extra room where we’ll live…it will be so different than your life Grigor.”

He looked at you and smiled.

“If I’m with you, how could I ever be unhappy?” he said.

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. It was a long time and a long drive. Your appearance prevented suspicion of any connection to royalty. You hugged your family and cried, introducing them to Grigor. Both of you thought you would never reach home. But there was no time to waste. It had to be finalized. Soon.

Reaching the church, your hands began to shake. Your dress was dirty and Grigor smelled like the horse. Both of you knelt before the altar in front of the priest as he prepared to begin the nuptials. Noticing the tremor, Grigor took your hand and you accepted it. It was just a quick, peasant wedding with a small peasant home awaiting you both. No parties with elaborate gowns and wigs. Only the odd festival with aprons and cloth hats. No more rich dining on oysters and vodka. Now you had to settle for bread and milk you got from the goats you milked.

But you didn’t need the rich clothes, balls, feasts, lavishness, and misery. You had each other. And a new life where you could be together.

Taglist: @queenlover05 @stardust-killer-queen

Lololol, it’s alright! This sounds wonderful! And thanks for your patience! I love having specifics! Plus this will be with fem! reader, since it’s a sister. A part of it was inspired by @beatlevmania‘s movie headcanons!

Your brother Paul is normally a perfectionist. He even cuts his dinners at home into precise squares before chewing them up. And everything has to go according to his plan.

But you bet that you getting a crush on George, his friend, was not a part of it.

You tried not to.

But you couldn’t help yourself.

Every time you turned away your head

You found yourself sneaking looks at him.

It’s just George had the most beautiful eyes, and amazing, sharp cheekbones.

He was extremely talented

But he was kind to everyone he met. He greeted all of his friends with a hug and didn’t worry about it looking any less manly

And he would make you laugh. He was so witty and clever and quick that you would just stare heart eyes into him

You would go to rehearsal, sometimes offering to bring lunch or listen. 

But half the reason was to listen to them and the other reasons had to do with the young guitar-playing lad.

And you just try to hang out and make bits of chatter.

And then one day, you all plan to see a movie with the three of you since there is an actor all of you like.

Paul says he will come up because he has something right before, and you have schoolwork/a job but will show up at the theatre right after.

But you’re so excited you’re there early.

So you wait

and wait

and wait

The movie should be playing soon, from a check of your watch.

But George shows up!

“‘Ello there, Y/N! Where’s Paul?”

“I don’t know! He’s normally on time!”

But he looks at the movie poster, gleaming behind its glass temptingly, and then at your worried face.

“Well, let’s not fret. We’ll save him a seat.”

Your heart beats as you go in beside him. Normally you are gazing at him from afar, but here you are. Standing next to him as he orders popcorn. This time glances aren’t from a distance, but he is next to him. You can admire him closely before turning away, biting the inside of your cheek.

He lets you share the popcorn.

“It’s the best with butter, what do you think?” he asks.

“Yup. Fresh melted butter tastes heavenly on popcorn,” you nodded.

“Though there are all sorts of odd flavors. There’s cheesy popcorn, and I love it.”

“Cheesy? Normally that’s too strong!” you add on.

“Only if you pick the right kind of cheese!” he interjects.

When you look on his lap, you realized just how many snacks he bought.

How on earth do boys like that eat that much and still look skinny? you think.

But George shares all of them with you.

By then a few trailers and the newsreel on, then whatever cartoon. Both of you enjoy it. You see George laughing a little at the cartoon and you do too.

Then the movie itself begins.

And George makes jokes and little one-liners at the screen, but only for you to hear.

At first, you lightly hit his arm and say “this is a serious part!” The smile on your face can’t lie.

But both of you clap lightly when your actor appears or makes some bold move or does something amazing.

And then sometimes you say something silly into his ear and he starts to laugh. 

It’s the most precious sound you ever heard.

Once you both leave, stomachs hurt from laughing and a little sleepy from all of the food, he offers to walk you home

And you both talk. Gabbing on about everything. You forget that he is your brothers friend and that he may be off-limits according to some silly “man code” guys keep.

That is until you look and see Paul running to you.

“Had a meeting, all sorts of stuff. Eppy kept calling me about business. Then I just fell asleep at home!” he explained.

Although his eyes are wide and he goes forward as if to grab you, you interrupt and say peacefully, “George was just walking me home from the theatre to be safe!”

He relaxes but looks confused at you both.

“Y/N here was at the theatre and wanted to see the movie, so I went ahead an’ took ‘er,” George explains.

Paul relaxes a little. He then says “oh, thank you.”

“George was very kind to make sure I saw it-paid for tickets and snacks and everything!” you added.

“We’ll go another day when you’re awake, Paul” George says.

Paul insists he accompanies you back home, but you thank George for the lovely time.

As soon as George is out of distance, you turn to Paul and say “he was a complete gentleman, don’t worry. Nothing happened.”

And Paul sighs.

“He better bloody be. I’ll talk to ‘im later. ‘E lays a ‘and on you and I’ll break ‘is nose,” he curses.

Despite your brothers grumblings...

your day was worth it.

As requested by  @benhardysbaby5

Also, if anyone else has any ideas or suggestions about Texan culture or what it would be like for these guys to be with a Texan, let me know! I did some research online and I hope I wasn’t too stereotypical!

Freddie (in a platonic setting):

He would be very fascinated. You would tell him alabout the slang and seeing the huge ranches passing by your community while driving. He would love learning about it. But the next time you are invited to a concert, and he knows you are there, he pops out in a hat, boots, and white shorts with “YEEHAW” right on the butt and you can’t help but laugh.

Roger:

Normal dates may not be “normal”, but he loves it. He loves the variety of things you do and experiences you can have in your state- like football games and stockyard rodeos. It’s a constant adventure! He will kiss you and then let out a yelp during a game that makes you forget he is from across the pond. Though one time at a date you give him a lecture about barbeque and how it should be done and he will insist that “no, the sauce can’t be too hot-” “It has to be the right amount for that kick!” you insist.

Brian:

He would love hoe deeply you embrace nature like he does. Walks and hikes are common dates. As cold as Britian is, you love the rolling green fields and moors, cuddling next to him for warmth. He is a sweetheart and would never judge you for calling sodas “cokes” or any other Texan quirks. He just thinks it makes you more interesting! Though you have to compromise often with food, if you aren’t a vegetarian like he is. But you manage to find some Texan grub where no critters were harmed in the process and eating it his eyes light up.

Deaky:

Two words: Line dancing! You can’t tell me John wouldn’t love line dancing. He learns them quickly and often takes you and spins you around. He adds little jumps and movements until it seems he is walking on air. Then after, you walk out and the air is cold after the warmth of movement. Both of you laughing and smiling and holding hands joyfully. I think he would also be fascinated by the cowboy aesthetic and try wearing hats, a shirt with bedazzlement on it, or belts or something to make you smile...and of course because he wants to.

Now for BohRap....

Rami:

He would adore how loyal you are to him. You always make him a priority and scoff off other guys who flirt with you. Though he would also love how polite you are to everyone and be drawn to the way you carry yourself. Although when you use hairspray he teases you a little bit. And he loves to mimic your accent, but he will kiss your cheek and hug you and make up for it. Although one time you want to chase a tornado and he gets scared but tries it, clinging onto you for support.

Joe:

He loves that you enjoy sports like he does. You both go to games and cheer loudly. In return, you go on baseball dates and lean against his arm and listen to him fuss and yell at the game. Then when both of you order food, neither one of you are shy about ordering dessert or eating with your hands. You can be relaxed and yourself with Joe. But like Deaky, he will love two step dancing and line dancing. Even when you are sweating and tired, he will tell you how amazing you look.

Gwilym:

Even though he has been there for Press for BohRap, traveling around is a different story. He’s amazed by how long it takes to get from one place. “We’ve been here for four bloody hours and we’re still in the state?!” and you laugh and say yes. But you guys would travel and take road trips as he learns bits about the history there. Plus he is always a gentleman with you, lending you his arm and holding doors, and inside you’re swooning and he just grins. If you’re old enough, you both enjoy a beer and watch the sunset often.

Ben:

First off: Ben would adore the the Texan accent! You think the way he speaks is incredible but he is hypnotized by yours! The way you use diphthongs makes it sound musical and how it’s your own kind of classy and confident, he is weak for it! Though he also enjoys the food. You take him to Whataburger and when he bites into his meal, he looks as if he found Nirvana. Plus he loves how you are always there for him, thick and thin, and tell it like it is. He tells you often how much he admires you and your strength. As different as your two cultures are, you both can’t get enough of each other.

Oh, honey! I understand what you’re going through so I understand completely! I’m sending you a big hug through this computer screen right now- you can dm me if you want to know about when I was scared if my parents would divorce and talk about your situation. Thanks for your patience! I hope you enjoy this.

You sit down in your room, shutting the door tight. You wish it was enough. But you know not all the locks in the world could keep you safe from the fighting.

You hear their voices. Your heart sinks at the sound of your dad’s shouting.

When your mother says “you stole some of the best years of my life away”, you blink away tears. 

You can’t take it anymore. You can’t be in this place.

So you put on a jacket for the night air and march out. They blink their eyes at you going down but you say “I’m heading to the store, I’ll be back” in a gritted lie and drive away.

You sigh out. Anyplace is better than there. And looking ad your phone, you see Ben is calling.

“Y/N! Has the divorce gotten through?” he asked.

You nod, feeling tears. “Yes, and dad will be out soon...but...” you feel tears choke up.

“Come over to my place, love. There, there, it’ll be okay...”

That’s what you tell yourself as you drive up to his flat and run up the steps. You see Ben right at the door, in a red hoodie and his hair tossed up and sticking on ends. His cheeks are normally rosy but now they’re pale.

You throw yourself into your arms and sob and he holds you, smoothing your hair and letting you cry.

He even scoops you up into a bridal carry and takes you to the couch, still letting you cling onto him.

After a moment of pause, you feel the tears stop. The video game music Ben has been playing keeps blaring.

“Are you alright?” he asks, wiping hair away from your face.

“It’s just that...I feel...I feel like a freak...” you confess, taking in a deep breath.

“How come?” he asks, eyes lidded and analytical.

“I don’t have a normal, happy family Ben! I thought I might at some point, but...but I was wrong! And I feel like...I wasn’t even wanted! Like my parents didn’t even want me when I was born!” you gush out, feeling tears well up in a lump in your throat again.

He hushes you, letting you curl up on his lap and cry into his neck as he holds you.

“No...that’s not true. I’m sure when you were born...your parents wanted you very much...and you’re not less than. Divorce happens. A lot. So many people are in your boat, Y/N...there is nothing freak-ish about you...you’re not a freak, you’re my angel, love,” he said.

You turn your head up at him. Feeling a smile crawl up your face. He kisses your forehead.

“That’s so cheesy.”

“Only ‘cause it’s true...”

“Well, you’re my prince charming, Ben. And that’s cheesy. But it’s true,” you say, kissing his lips in gratitude.

You both cling onto each other for a little bit, he kisses your hairline and your ears.

‘You could stay over here if you need it. At least until some peace settles...” he offers.

“I’ll have to go back and get my stuff...” you wonder.

He takes your hand.

“I’ll stay right out there with you-I’ll even go into the house...” he promises, his green eyes bright and earnest.

And at that moment you knew that with Ben you could face anything.

Taglist: @queenlover05 @stardust-killer-queen

You bet!!!

You would let him sleep in.

Once it gets as late as possible and his eyes flutter open you give him a kiss on the head

“Happy birthday, my sweet boy” you would say softly

He would be so happy he would want you to stay and keep kissing him

But you would make him some food, such as some pancakes and some chopped fruit and insist you do it

And no matter your level of cooking or experience, Ringo would love it and eat it up

He would get quite a bit of fan mail wishing him happy birthday and some gifts that you would help open

And secretly you were hoping your own gift would be good enough

You both spend a peaceful day, lazing when there isn’t anything to do

But tonight you help him pick his best suit and you deck out in a red dress and heals with a shiny earrings.

When he adjusts his bow tie, you hug him from behind.

“You’re such a handsome man, Ritch. You deserve to know it.”

He takes your hand and kisses it. Giving a shy smile whenever you use his real name.

“You make me feel like it, me dear.”

The celebration is actually a charity party. People auction for items and send donations to the charities Ringo feels moved to give to.

Bc he would feel a little too selfish to have everything on his birthday.

“I jus’ feel like giving back, Y/N.”

But after a bit of fun dancing and games and chatter, you see the three lads

They hug him and give him gifts and say how much he means to them.

Then when you are both in the car, close to midnight, sighing and smiling with tireness, you finally turn to him.

“I haven’t given you my gift yet!”

“Y/N, I tell you, you’re the best gift a man could dream of,” he’d say

But you pull your gift out of your clutch and at first he is confused

It’s some pieces of paper folded together.

Nothing like the nice watches or shoes or suits he has received.

But a sweet, personal letter. Listing why you love him

And all your fondest memories

Trips to the beach

How he spilled water on himself on your first date

The first call after touring

How he hugged you when you cried over a great difficulty in your life

Every little thing

Ringo would sit there, soaking it in

It’s a small, private moment

And then he just cried happy tears

He kisses you, smiling through crying lightly

“I never ‘ad such a gift, Y/N, me bird. Thank you!”

Taglist: @queenlover05 @stardust-killer-queen

Hello there! Sorry this took a while but my life has gotten crazy. So let’s stick with just Queen for today!

Freddie (in a platonic setting):

He would love it!! As nervous as you get singing about him, he always encourages you. One time you nervously asked him how to sing, and he was generous enough to give you the odd tip here or there. He feels worse about his guitar playing skills so he would feel like you were better than him anyway.

Roger:

He would be pretty amused when he finds out. He would be that person who listens to you practicing strumming guitar in your space when you think you’re alone and then walk in clapping. But he would hype you up an load you with compliments about your abilities. Though whenever you sing, he might surprise you by singing a really high note out of nowhere behind you. So when you jump, he would calm you down and call you “baby” and kiss you.

Brian:

It would be an accident when he discovers. But he would be more courteous than Roger and listen to some but don’t let on that you know until after some time. Then he quietly tells you while you’re hanging out that he heard you. At first, you’re shocked and surprised. But he would tell you he thinks your singing is beautiful and that you shouldn’t be ashamed of it and hide it. So he would definitely help you with the guitar and play if you wanted to sing.

Deaky:

Deaky would be listening, but a little surprised. But he accidentally trips or knocks something over and you find him. But he tells you “oh-no! Please! Go on!” He would even bring in his bass or a piano and improvise lines. Though he really adores your singing (esp since he feels bad about his own). He asks you to sing for him all the time because it’s the prettiest and most precious sound to him, whether to lull him to sleep or along with the radio.