#pop rox prodigy

[celestial-thoughts]

role model

Pairing: platonic Roxanne Perez & Bayley, romantic Cora Jade x Roxanne Perez

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Bayley takes her job as Roxanne and Cora's role model very seriously. That doesn't stop outside of the ring.

Author's note: shoutout to @this-is-my-bisexuality for writing an awesome fic for Cora/Roxanne last month for thirsty thurday (read it here, it is so good), because it sparked this lovely idea in my head.

Eighteen minutes. That's how long Roxanne has been pacing back and forth across her apartment. She pauses her pacing and looks at the vase of sunflowers she had found sitting on her kitchen table when she woke up that morning, picks up the note that had been attached to the flowers.

She has already read the note a dozen times, but she reads it again.

Sunflowers for my sunflower. I love you Roxy. xoxo, Cora.

Roxanne's eyes linger on those three little words: I love you. Three words that Cora and Roxanne have never spoken to each other. They've been dating for three months, and she has yet to take that leap, to tell Cora how much she truly cares about her.

So Cora takes the leap first.

And now Roxanne is pacing her apartment, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Bayley, who she texted in the midst of her panicked spiral.

The knock at her door pulls Roxanne out of her thoughts, and she opens it to find Bayley standing there, with a grocery bag in one hand. "I come bearing snacks," the older woman says, walking past Roxanne and into the apartment. She starts to cross the room to the couch, when suddenly she stops at the sight of the worn path across the carpet. "How long have you been working on that?" she asks, nodding at the path of Roxanne's pacing.

"Since I texted you," Roxanne manages to say, and despite her best efforts to keep her voice steady, she feels her throat begin to close up.

Bayley moves quickly, setting down the bag of snacks and wrapping her arms around the 21 year old girl in front of her. She holds Roxanne close, keeping her own breathing steady. "Just breathe for me Rox. Can you do that?"

Bayley's voice breaks through the haze of panic, and Roxanne feels her heart rate return to normal. "Thank you," she whispers, looking up to meet Bayley's eyes.

"Anytime," Bayley replies. "You know I'm always here for you." She keeps one arm around Roxanne's shoulders, guiding her to the couch. "So," Bayley begins, reaching into the bag of snacks and pulling out a box of chocolate chip cookies. "What exactly has you anxiously pacing?"

That's when Roxanne realizes that she's still clutching the note from Cora in her hand. Wordlessly, she hands the card to Bayley as she takes a cookie from the box. "You got the good kind," she remarks, nodding at the box.

"Of course I got the good kind," Bayley says. "I know the drill." Her eyes fall to the card that Roxanne had placed in her hand. She reads the short note, and her eyes go wide. "Oh."

Roxanne nods, hugging her knees to her chest as she nibbles on the cookie in her hand. "Yeah," she whispers. "I don't know why I freaked out when I read it. I just—"

"You just started panicking?" Bayley finishes Roxanne's thought. The smaller girl nods, and Bayley sets the card down on the coffee table. "Okay. Can I tell you what I think?"

"Yes please," Roxanne answers, eyes focused on the half-eaten cookie in her hand.

"Well for starters," Bayley says, taking a cookie for herself. "Do you feel the same way about her?"

Roxanne lets out a sigh. "It's... complicated," she says.

"Is it?" Bayley asks. "Or have you just convinced yourself that it's complicated because you don't want to think about your feelings?"

Roxanne shoots her a look of annoyance, and Bayley can't help the laugh that escapes her lips. "It is actually complicated this time," Roxanne says, resting her forehead against her knees.

"How so?" Bayley asks, gently squeezing one of Roxanne's hands.

"Because," Roxanne begins, letting out a sigh. "Because I want to feel the same way about her, Bayley. And I think I do. But I'm just..." she trailed off.

Bayley wrapped an arm around Roxanne's shoulders. "But your anxiety is stopping you from being able to accept that she really feels that way about you?"

Roxanne looks up at the older woman. "How did you know?" she asks in surprise.

"Lucky guess," Bayley replies with a small, knowing smile. She's silent for a minute, before she speaks again. "I think you're just afraid to be happy," she says. "I think you want to be happy, but you still don't think you deserve it."

Roxanne nods, nervously biting her lower lip. "It's just hard to believe that she feels that way about me," she whispers, just barely loud enough for Bayley to hear.

Bayley nods in understanding. "Do you trust Cora?" she asks.

"Of course I trust Cora," Roxanne replies immediately.

A soft smile appears on Bayley's face. "Good. Then trust that she wouldn't write that unless she meant it." She nods at the card sitting on the coffee table. "She's crazy about you, kid. I know that you don't see it, but trust me, she is."

Roxanne lets out a shaking breath. "Okay," she says quietly, more to herself than Bayley.

"So, do you feel the same way about her?" Bayley asks again.

Roxanne feels her lips curl into a small smile. "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I do."

"Then you should tell her," Bayley says. "Trust me, you'll feel better once you do."

(What Bayley doesn't tell Roxanne is that she knew what the note said before Cora ever left it with the flowers on Roxanne's table. Because as much as she's Roxanne's role model, she's Cora's as well. So when Cora called her the other night, stressed about whether she should write those three words on that card, Bayley was right there to help. But Roxanne doesn't need to know any of that. Just like Cora doesn't need to know that Bayley was the one who helped Roxanne work through her anxiety about asking her out. Bayley is always there behind the scenes, making sure that Cora and Roxanne have their role model in their corner.)

That night, as Roxanne and Cora walk back to Roxanne's apartment after dinner, Cora takes her girlfriend's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together. "Did you get my present?" she asks, as they walk down the sidewalk.

Roxanne smiles. "I did," she says. "Thank you. It was a great surprise to wake up to." Suddenly, she stops walking, pulls Cora so they're standing face to face. "I got your note too," she says.

In the fading evening light, Roxanne can just make out the faintest glimmer of uncertainty in Cora's eyes. "And?" Cora asks, her voice soft.

Standing on her toes, Roxanne pulls Cora in for a kiss. When they break apart, she rests her forehead against Cora's. "I love you too."

#my writing #wwe #bayley #role model #roxanne perez #pop rox prodigy #cora jade #generation of jade

[jknerd]

DISNEY AU: PJ

Full Name: Peter Pete Jr “PJ”

Other Names: PJ, Peej, Peter Jr.

Schools: Spoonerville Elementary School (graduated), Mike Jay Middle School (graduated), Spooner Public High School (graduated), Oswald College of Arts/Music/Sports 

Occuaption(s): Child actor (former), X-Game Competitor (Maxine’s team), Student

Residence: Spoonerville, Ohio

Family: Peter Pete (father), Peg Pete (mother), Pistol Pete (younger sister)

Relationships: Maxine Goof (best friend), Barby Zimmeruski (best friend), Rox Hatchback (friend), Stanley Ampledexter (friend), Fabrette Lewis (girlfriend), The Gammas (rivaling team)

Likes: Extreme sports, skateboarding, snowboarding, video games, pop/rock/R&B/K-pop music, movies, drawing, painting

Dislikes: His father’s antics ad schemes, Pistol’s spoiled attitude, bullies

Abilities/Talents: Acting, Skateboarding skills, fair sportsmanship, artistic skills, drumming, video editing

Peter Pete Jr., aka PJ, is a firstborn of Pete and Peg, older brother of Pistol, and one of Maxine’s best friends. Warm-hearted and friendly, but his passive nature makes him a frequent pawn in the schemes and shenanigans of his domineering father Pete. Through childhood to young adulthood, he has been close friend to Maxine and usually hang out with her. Although he occasionally feared his father, he is actually scared of his mother the most and often seen horrified when his mother angrily scold her husband. Then again, he and Pete are caring towards one another as just as Goofy and Maxine are. Currently, he has a girl friend Fabrette, who was usually known as the Beret Girl. 

Formerly, PJ was a child actor who often star in a show his father was in, usually portrayed as Donald’s neighbor’s son in a sitcom, portrayed as bright but cynical child. In fact, he was labeled as “acting prodigy” for being able to acting from range to a spoiled brat, terminally ill kind-hearted child, and even voice acting. Pete held great pride in his son’s talent at first, but when the attention gets too far (from entire school students giving him unwanted attention to fans stalking the house of Pete’s), young PJ was traumatized and refused to go to school. Upset with the entertainment’s lack of concern for his mental health, PJ suddenly announce his retirement and decided work in a car scale. Although PJ still have lingering dreams in acting career, his father would forbid him from being in any drama classes or acting activities. So, PJ turned his interest in artistic hobbies and casual sports. At one point, his mother Peg visited Goofy who had lost his wife from car accident as she was also Glory B’s besets friend. When PJ turned 12, Goof family moved next door and he quickly befriended tomboyish girl Maxine. At first, Pete didn’t like the idea of his son befriending another celebrity’s child. However, he agreed to let PJ becoming friends with Maxine when he heard of her defending his son from bullies in school, finding her “revenge” on them dangerous but borderline satisfying. If his son and Maxine were in danger, Pete and Goofy work together to get them out of trouble. In some occasions, PJ and Maxine babysit his little sister Pistol. In teen years, PJ also befriended Barby Zimmeruski, the girl with enormous love for cheeses. Both her and PJ were aware of Maxine’s popularity with girls due to her image as “handsome girl” and Rox’s romantic feelings for her. Seeing Maxine also share same feelings to him, PJ reluctantly decided to help Maxine impressing him and was seen delighted when hearing of their blooming relationship. During summer vacation, PJ was seen having a camping trip with his entire family and was surprised to see Maxine on a stage with her father and their favorite singer Powerline.

Years later as high school graduate bound for college, PJ and his friends were preparing to leave, excited for their upcoming debut in college X-Game. At the same time, he was hoping to approach the way back to acting career by taking courses necessary for this chance, slowly overcoming his childhood trauma. Although he would be in separate dormitory, he would still hang out with Maxine and Barby during campus hours. During the first day of college skating around the campus, he and his friends grabbed the attention of the X-Games champion team/Fraternity; “the Gammas”. Although, their leader Bradley was more interested in recruiting Maxine. At some point, PJ was surprised to see Goofy as their instructor in “Entertainment Business” and “Performing Arts”, but very invested in his classes. During fierce confrontation between Maxine and Bradley, PJ was seen frowning when Bradley insulted Goofy, but shocked when Maxine retaliated with aggression causing to destroy Bradley’s shirt, and confusion when Bradley escaped the scene with fear. At first encounter in the cafe Bean Scene, and at the night club, he become the love interest of a beret girl named Fabrette who was attracted to him due to his love for performing arts and sharing much in common wit her. He and Barby were seen witnessing when Rox and Stanley started attending their college, but concerned more of Maxine. In the X-Game competition, PJ’s best event was shown to be bike riding as he managed to pass the semi-finals. However, PJ was abruptly removed by the scheme of team Gammas and Bradley’s father as his inline-skating shoes were secretly attached with rockets. Luckily, he was in the infirmary with support of his girlfriend Fabrette, unharmed at the middle of triathlon. Later, he was horrified witnessing his friend Maxine and remaining Gamma teammates blasted to the X-Games wired fabric logo and decided to go to help them. When finding all the incidents and cheats were made by Bradley’s father, PJ and his friends were seen glaring at them as Goofy angrily called him out for choosing his ambition over his son and others’ safety. Days after, PJ watched the social medias making hate comments on Bradley due to alleged “doping” and “cheating”, he was one of the people to express sympathy towards Bradley’s psychological condition. Noticing something off from his behavior, he quickly informed Maxine about it, which led to her saving Bradley from attempt suicide. As Bradley broke down in tears, Maxine, the other Gammas, and PJ proceeded to reassure him.

According to Donald and Goofy, PJ is still a great actor and currently with Maxine, he became a frequent guest star of variety show “Exit Man”. No longer feeling fright of public’s opinion, PJ was open to restart the acting career with support of his friends and his girlfriend Fabrette. At this point, Pete finally conceded and allowed his son’s return in acting, feeling proud of his son’s progress. Along with Barby, PJ becomes a regular witness in observing Maxine, her popularity and growing relationship problems.

#Disney Studio AU #Goof Troop #Goof Troop AU #Goofy Movie #Goofy Movie AU #An Extremely Goofy Movie #An Extremely Goofy Movie AU #PJ

[thedudear1992]

[catchester]

12 Days of Christmas

Title: Twelve Drummers Drumming

Authors: @evieplease​​​​ and @catchester​​​​

Which character: Actor!Tom and OFC Rocky

Genre: Humour/Explicit

Fic Summary: Tom and Rocky spend their first Christmas as a couple and Rocky meets Tom’s Mum for the first time. Expect 12 gifts, too much boozy, bad puns and lots of fun!

Rating: Mature

Previous Chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138390/chapters/40304798

AN: Well, we just scraped it in on the 12 night (as long as you don't live in the UK) and we have a special little epilogue planned, which we hope to bring you tomorrow. 

Also, sorry for not tagging directly, but tagging seems to work much better for @evieplease​ than  for me.

12 Drummers Drumming

When I told Tom to bring his guitar he knew I had something musical planned but I could see him becoming confused when the cab drove us away from the centre and towards Croydon. He held his tongue until we parked in a very nice new development of town houses and flats. 

“Okay,” he said, looking around as he retrieved the guitar case from the boot while I paid. “I give up, why are we here?” 

I just smiled and took his arm, tamping down my own nervousness, leading him to one of the new townhouses and ringing the bell. It was opened a moment later by slim, sandy blonde man in a black t-shirt and faded blue jeans. 

“Rox!” he said with an enthusiastic smile, leaning forward for a cheek kiss. I never liked that nickname, but he was family so he got a pass . . . sometimes. And since he and Dave had allowed me to hijack their evening at the last minute, he definitely gets a pass tonight. Though I did wince at the name.

I turned to Tom, just in time to catch his smirk. I knew he was filing ‘Rox’ away in that prodigious brain to use in some future nefarious plan. I would, if the situation were reversed, after all! I warningly narrowed my eyes at him, and his smirk grew wider. He knew I couldn’t do fuck all about it at the moment.

I dragged myself back into the moment. I do want him to like my family, and my family to like him. Right, so.

“Tom, this is Ryan, my brother-in-law.” 

Tom had to switch his guitar to shake hands but he professed he was pleased to meet him. He even managed a warm smile for Ryan, while shooting me a glare that promised retribution for not warning him that he was about to meet my family.

Ryan shook Tom’s hand and then froze, giving me wild eyed look as he twigged to Tom.

“Oh, Rocky you’ve outdone yourself! Dave is absolutely going to shit! I can’t believe you brought Loki home! No wait. Yes I can.” Dave shook his head and grinned at Tom. “Come on in, Tom, you’re just in time for the fireworks!” 

Ryan offered to take our coats and Tom’s guitar. 

“What can I get you to drink?” Ryan asked Tom, then listed off the wines they had available. 

“Whatever’s open is fine,” Tom smiled, as we seated ourselves on the sofa and Ryan headed off into the kitchen. Tom grabbed my elbow and hissed in my ear as soon as Ryan was out of the room..

“You didn’t tell your family anything about me?? Rocky...” 

“Sure I did, Tom! I told ‘em that you’re wonderful and kind and fun. You make me laugh  and you like me. What else do they need to know?”

Tom’s eyes softened. “Rocky, you…”  he shook his head, apparently speechless. But I knew better. I was sure to hear about it later.

I flashed him a cheeky smile as we sat down. “I just thought it was probably best not to give you time to get drunk before meeting my family,” I teased. 

The glare he levelled at me was slightly spoiled by the smile he couldn't quite repress. 

“You’re here!”

We looked to the doorway where my clone stood, assuming I was 6 inches taller and 60lbs heavier. He also had short hair but the family resemblance was uncanny. 

“You must be Dave,” Tom said, rising from the sofa to greet him. 

“I am indeed,” Dave grinned, shaking Tom’s hand genially. “And I’ve heard an awful lot about you. All good, of course.” 

Tom turned and gave us both some serious side eye, looking back and forth. 

“Have you met your sister?” he asked Dave.

Ryan clapped a hand over his mouth and did his best to stifle a giggle and letting out a small snort over madly twinkling eyes, while Dave laughed ruefully.

“Too true, but ‘All I know is that you have dodgy plumbing and work away sometimes’ doesn't really sound very polite.” 

I stood to reach up and kiss Dave hello. “And that’s why you haven't met my family yet, Tom,” I glanced at him and teased. “Let me just apologise in advance for my brother.”

“Right,” Ryan said as he returned with three glasses of red wine and a bottle of beer for me. He’d been a bartender in college so he could juggle far more beverage than the average Joe. “Can’t you lot stop sniping at each other for just one night?” he teased us.  

“Oh please,” I smiled. “You give as good as you get.” I’d always liked Ryan. 

“Yes, but I find it’s best to break new people in gently.” He tilted his head at Tom in a ‘sorry, mate’ eye roll.

“Oh, don’t worry about Tom.” I waved an airy hand. “He’s so broken in I’ve ridden him hard and put him away wet many times now.”

Ryan nearly choked on his wine and Tom couldn't stifle his laugh. 

“She speaks the truth,” Tom agreed. “Although she could learn a little tact.” 

“That’s what I keep you around for,” I explained. 

“Well, don’t stand on ceremony,” Ryan gestured to the sofa behind us and as we sat down I heard a small ‘ding’ emanating from the kitchen. 

“I’m up, I’ll go,” Dave offered since Ryan had taken a seat too. 

“I knew I could smell something delicious,” I said as Dave went into the kitchen to serve the nibbles. “Ryan’s a caterer,” I told Tom. “A very good one too.” He’d catered a few prestigious events so he was used to acting naturally around famous faces, although his events tended to be business and politics more than theatrical, but he’s told us all about meeting Stephen Fry at one of his events. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t noticed yet,” Ryan whispered. 

“I know!” I whispered back. He’d understand once we took him upstairs. 

Tom looked slightly nonplussed by the conversation but he turned to Ryan with a friendly smile and asked, “What are we having?” 

“Well given what Rocky said about tonight, we’re just having a series of finger foods, starting with mini kebabs marinated in satay and hoi sin sauce. The satay is a teeny bit hot but nothing most people can’t handle.”

“Is it just us?” he asked.

“While introducing you to my family really should be a one at a time thing to avoid premature ageing, Dad and Paul are still in Florida.

“Well they may have sun, but we have hors d'oeuvres.” Dave returned with a serving plate of mini kebabs, two small pots of extra sauce in the middle. He put them on the coffee table then sat on the sofa opposite us, next to Ryan. 

“Rocky tells me you work in Finance?” Tom said to Dave as he helped himself to a kebab. 

I jumped in. “Dear god, Tom, don’t get him started, we’ll be hip deep in spreadsheets!”

“It’s a little more sophisticated than that,” Dave rolled his eyes. 

“What Dave, I keep telling you that one and one are two. Two and two are four. It’s not hard.” I teased him, tipping my glass at him.

Dave grinned back. “Bet you can’t tell me the square root of three, though!”

I opened my mouth and shut it. I had no idea. Dave took a sip of his wine and managed to look like the cat who got the cream.

Ryan laughed. “Do you want to tell her, or shall I?” 

Dave toasted Ryan and snickered. “Be my guest.”

Ryan put a consoling arm around me. “Darling. Three is a square root,” he said gently.

“Well, shit.” The two men chuckled at me, but Tom winced. I knew he didn’t know, either. I flopped back on the sofa and scowled at my smartypants brother. For some reason Dave got all the maths in the family. Dad was right annoyed when he went into banking, instead of staying home and doing the books for the family plumbing business. But really, Dad’s very proud of Dave. And so am I, come to that.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Tom tried being more direct this time as he reached for another kebab and offered me the plate. 

Those things were moreish and I was tempted to hold onto the plate and finished off the remains. Good manners won out however and I returned them to the coffee table. 

“She didn't tell you?” Dave asked playfully. 

“No, she didn't,” Tom levelled a narrow eyed glare at me. “Secrets abound tonight, it seems.”

It was time to put him out of his misery. 

“It just so happens that although he wears a suit and tie, and has the world’s most boring job, in his spare time, my brother here happens to be a world-class drummer.”

“Hardly,” Dave blushed. “But I enjoy it.” 

“Don’t listen to him. He’s good. Really good, and I have the scars to prove it!”

“I can’t see any scars!”

“They’re all mental, dear brother.” I smiled sweetly and took a sip of my wine.

Ryan choked a bit. “Shall we get on then?” 

“I thought you two could have a little jam session,” I told Tom. 

“While Rocky and I will gaze on adoringly,” Ryan added, batting his eyelashes only slightly sarcastically. 

“Oh no,” Dave shook his head. “If I have to play, you two have to sing.” 

“I’m game,” I grinned. “Besides, we’re running low of kebabs,” I said as I popped the last one in my mouth.

“So,” Tom cleared his throat, “When do we start?” he said in his Loki voice, doing his best to suppress a smirk.

“All right,” Ryan stood up. “Let’s do this!” 

Tom picked up his guitar from the hall and we all trooped upstairs. The Marvel posters lining the stairway and the upper landing didn't escape his notice and I could see the penny drop with regard to why Ryan as surprised Dave hadn’t recognised Tom. 

“Who’s the Marvel fan?” Tom asked. 

“That’d be me,” Dave answered. “Do you like the MCU too?”

“Well, I suppose you could say that, yes.” Tom blushed slightly but I don't think the boys noticed.

“I’ve got a collection of awesome memorabilia in the bedroom. I’ll show you once we’re done here, if you’re interested.”

“Are you indecently propositioning my boyfriend?” I asked innocently. 

“No, but I do have a new life size cutout of Captain America that might tempt him away from you,” Dave fired back with a smirk. 

Tom snickered. “I’m fairly sure that Rocky looks better in tights, mate! ” 

“I can feel the righteousness surging! Let’s hear it for truth, justice, and the American way!” I did my best Loki impression, which was shite, but when I tried to walk backwards at the same time and nearly fell on my arse it got a laugh.

Tom lept forward and caught me. “Darling, that was pitiful! Are you sure you want to talk about our kinky bedroom habits in front of your brother,” Tom teased as we were guided into the music room. 

“Our kinky habits?!” I tried to sound outraged.

Ryan laughed out loud. Dave narrowed his eyes..

“Wait, there’s an American Way?” He glared at Tom. “Just what the hell are you doing to my sister, mate??”

I clapped a hand over Tom’s mouth just as he opened it to tell Dave. “Now Tom, there’s no need to tell my brother just what you get up to in Captain America’s tights!”

Ryan held up a hand. “Right! That’s enough out of all of you! You’ll be giving Dave nightmares, and I need my beauty sleep!”

Tom didn’t let it go, though. He bent down and purred in my ear so just I could hear. “Don’t worry, darling, you will kneel for me later.”

Fuck me! My knees wobbled.

He, of course wandered off into the room without a care in the world leaving me feeling all hot and bothered on my brothers landing. 

Bastard. 

The largest bedroom had been turned into the music room and the walls were covered with some sort of soundproof foam. A large drum set took up about a third of the room, but there was also a keyboard against one wall, and a guitar propped up against it.  

There were also two small sofas and a couple of stools, so obviously jamming sessions weren’t unheard of. 

Tom looked around. “This is great, man!”

Ryan nodded. “Dave needed the space for his gear, so we use one of the smaller rooms for our bedroom. 

“It’s a terrific set up!” Tom enthused. “Do you play the piano and guitar too?” Tom asked as he pulled his guitar out of its case and began to tune it. 

“The guitar is mine,” Ryan admitted with a grimace. “I haven't been playing long, though.”

“The keyboard is something I keep meaning to learn,” Dave added. “Trouble is, the drums are just such good stress relief.” 

“We’ve pretty much decided we’ll have to adopt some kids and fill out our band with them,” Ryan teased. 

“The Osmond’s mark two,” I quipped. 

“The family that plays together stays together,” Dave shot back, while Ryan clutched his head.

“Oh god no! Not the bloody Osmonds! 

We all laughed. 

“Go on then,” I gestured for Dave to play his drums as I took a seat on one of the couches. “I promised Tom drums, after all.”

“But what about the other eleven drummers?”

“Sorry. This is the discount 12th day. All the other drummers were sold out. All you get is Dave. But he can play Wipeout like he has twelve pairs of arms!”

“All right Oh, thanks very much, sister dear! No pressure there!” He sat behind his drum kit and looked surprisingly nervous. A few deep breaths, however, and he launched into the familiar opening bars of Wipeout. His hands and feet moved with a furious pace and at the correct time, Ryan jumped up and grabbed my hands and we both launched into a gyrating dance and sang along, sort of na-na-na-ing the missing electric guitar accompaniment. Tom joined in after a minute, riffing on his acoustic guitar. Who didn't know Wipeout? 

At the end we all fell back, laughing and clapping.  Tom got up and offered his hand for Dave to shake. 

“I’ve got to say, I’m impressed.” He said that last in his slightly deeper Loki voice, but Dave was too busy blushing to notice. 

“Thanks.” Dave had turned a bit pink around the ears. “It’s one of my favourites, so I’m very practised at it.” 

“Very,” I agreed dryly. 

Dave chuckled. “When  we were kids I went a bit overboard one summer, obsessed with getting it right. One day Rocky got so fed up at hearing the same tune over and over she stormed into the garage and swore that if I ever played Wipeout again, she would get a gun and stab me to death.”

That story was one of the family staples now, Dave’ll be telling his grandkids one day about crazy, homicidal Aunt Rocky, no doubt!

“I’m not very coherent when I’m angry,” I shrugged. “And while we’re on embarrassing musical stories, I seem to recall you having a thing for Michael Jackson’s Man in the Mirror, only you kept singing, ‘and no moustache could have been any clearer’.”

Dave blushed again. “Oh please, I was only about 12 or something.”

“Yeah? I was 12 when you were driving me mad over wipeout, and you’re still telling the story!

Tom smiled and doing his Michael Jackson impression, carried the song on. “If you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself and then make that... shave.”

We all laughed. 

“Excuse me a second,” Ryan left the room.

“If you want to talk misheard lyrics, you can’t beat our dad,” I smiled at the memory. “You know that Abba song, Chiquitita? He always used to sing Chicken Tikka. ‘Chicken Tikka, tell me the truth’.” I sang. 

“Our brother, Paul, has the best one of all time though,” Dave explained. “Everyone knows Bohemian Rhapsody but when Paul was about seven or eight, he kept singing, “Beelzebub has the devil for a sideboard.” 

“Did you correct him?” Tom asked me. 

“I was too young to, I didn’t know,” I explained. “And I think Dave enjoyed the fact he got it wrong.” I slanted a look at Dave. “In fact, I think Dave used to feed him wrong lyrics all the time. Remember ‘Scare a moose, scare a moose’?” I grinned.

“Bastard’s good at everything, I can’t enjoy the fact he fucks up such a well known song?” Dave growled. “I think he figured it out in his teens. I remember him being moody as fuck one day because his friends made fun of him for it. Now he knows better, but he does it just to annoy me.”

Ryan returned with a tray containing a selection of crispbread with various toppings, plus a pitcher of margaritas and 4 glasses. “Got to keep our strength up.”

“And our dutch courage,” I added. 

“Absolutely! Citrus is good for the vocal cords, as well!” He grinned as he handed me a glass. “Right, what’s next?”

“Let’s do something we can all join in on,” Dave suggested. “Anyone know any Queen?” 

“Not well enough to play without sheet music,” Tom admitted. “Unless, maybe Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” 

“I love that one! It’s a great dance tune! What about it Ryan? I’ll take the low parts if you’ll take the high ones!” 

“Deal!” 

Mounted on the wall over the keyboard was a huge flat screen TV because Dave limed to practice with some musical accompaniment sometimes, and Ryan liked watching Youtube guitar tutorials. Oh, the things you can afford when you’re a DINK. For the uninitiated, that’s Double Income No Kids household, and Dave does not like being called that, but that’s mainly because he think’s the word dinky doesn't reflect well on his manhood. So of course I use it whenever I can.

Ryan turned the telly on and spoke his google search into the remote. They’re gadget freaks too. Just about every room has an Alexa. It wouldn't surprise me if she was even wired into some of their sex toys! EWW! No, no, nasty stray thought! Back to lyrics. 

Even with the lyrics on screen, we still got some parts wrong because we were too busy trying to dance while seated and just generally hamming it up. 

“I hear Adam Lambert might leave Queen and try going solo again. You should audition,” I teased Ryan. 

He clasped his heart and uttered a gasp that would rival any of Ru Paul’s drag queens. 

“Sacrilege!” he pointed at me. “Get this blasphemer out of my house this instant! Away, demon! By the power of Gay I command you, leave this place!” 

We all laughed. His views on replacing Freddie Mercury were about on par with mine, only I wasn't quite so theatrical about it. 

When we finally stopped laughing we continued disavowing any new iterations of Queen for a minute or two, then we discussed songs again. 

“Hotel California,” I suggested, “Everyone knows that.” 

“Not known for it’s drum solos, though,” Tom reminded me. “But if it’s for everyone,” he turned to Ryan. “Don’t tell me you haven't learned to play Hey Jude yet?” 

“Well, it is one they usually teach beginners,” Ryan admitted. 

“That’s a yes,” Dave explained. “Come on, if I have to perform, so do you.” 

Tom handed Ryan his guitar and approached the keyboard. 

“All right, I can take a hint.” 

“How do you turn this thing on?” Tom asked, examining the keyboard.

“Need to turn it on at the plug.” Dave did it for him. 

“My saviour is here,” Tom teased and Dave smiled. He got the marvel quote, he just hadn't had the second realisation yet.

Tom sat down and played a chord, which sounded like a church organ. He switched it to piano and tried again. 

“There we go,” he smiled. 

“Is this a Gibson?” Ryan asked, examining Tom’s guitar. 

“It is,” Tom confirmed. “Beautiful instrument, you’ll love it.”

Ryan looked a little green around the gills and swallowed, probably understanding its worth. He slipped the strap around his neck despite already sitting down.

It had left me breathless for a moment when I realised how haphazardly I’d been slinging around a £2,000 guitar, but it had survived my laissez faire treatment, so I was fairly confident of its ability to survive Ryan’s playing. 

Tom  and Ryan played around for a few moments, familiarising themselves with their instruments. “Ready?” I asked when they quietened. 

They nodded and I counted to four then began. We’d sung this fairly often as kids. Dad had an accordion and Hey Jude was one of his favourites, so I was fairly confident the words would come back to me. If not, I didn't expect to be the only one singing, someone else would pick up my slack. 

There’s something about hey Jude, it just sort of unites people, like a world war two knees-up around the piano or something, except a totally different style. 

Usually I thought the na na na nas went on a bit long for my tastes but I’d have been happy carrying on longer tonight. The final note held for four beats, then we all clapped. 

“That was brilliant!” Ryan gushed. 

“It was! We should form a cover band! We could call it Duvet!”

“Dung Beatles more like,” I joked.

“Scarabs, if you don’t mind, Tom said loftily. 

“Oh we’re in treble now, boys!”

“Speaking of the Osmonds, and given geek boy here’s comic book addiction, we could be The Ozymandias… ians?” 

“Not the snappiest name,” Ryan laughed. 

I took a sip of my drink and helped myself to one of the last crispbreads. 

The evening continued in a similar vein with Ryan regularly bringing fresh treats and drinks to keep us nourished and hydrated. 

We played, drank, ate and sang for a good couple of hours. 

Tom dropped a few more Loki hints but it seemed my brother was determined to remain  as dense as Thor [Love it!]. Then Tom suggested Immigrant Song. It actually sounds really good on  an acoustic guitar and Dave  was able to provide drum backup, but I have no idea if he was true to the original or not. 

Tom handled most of the lyrics but Ryan and I join in on the bits we knew—basically the ah-aah-aaaah-ah bits. Turns out Ryan can get that bit really high when you pinch him at just the right moment! When the song finished We were all smiling. 

“I’d never really paid much attention to the lyrics before, but that stuff about hammer of the gods and what not, I can see why they used it for Ragnarok.”

And then I could literally see the penny drop as I watched the colour drain from Dave’s face. It was enough to gladden a sister’s heart!

“Wait, you— You’re not—? Holy fuck, you are!” 

We all cracked up laughing, Ryan even clapped. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Dave rushed on. “It’s  just with the ginger and the glasses and the tan you’re so. . . and with the black and pale skin he’s so. . .”

Poor Dave. I was going to pay for not warning him earlier but it’s a sister’s job to torture their siblings. And honestly, I really did think he’d recognise Tom instantly. He even had a Loki action figure for Christ’s sake! 

“Sorry, mate. It’s all Rocky’s fault, you know” Tom ticked his chin at me.

I clutched my chest dramatically. “Under the bus! I can’t believe you pushed me under the bus, Tom!”

“Yes, well, I needed company under here, didn’t I?”

Ryan turned to Dave and slipped an arm around his waist. “They’re well matched, don’t you think?” They both turned to look at us. I stuck my tongue out at them.

Dave snorted, looking at Tom with pity and shaking his head. “Poor sod.”

Tom wrapped his arms around me from behind. “I know. But I like a challenge…”

I rubbed my arse against Tom and reached back to pat his bum. “It’s alright. He’s well up to the job!”

Dave groaned. “I’m going to need brain bleach after this night,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you play us some Hank Williams,” I suggested, to give Dave a chance to recover a bit. 

Tom played Move it on Over which we didn't know but on the choruses we could just echo him and be his backup singers. Everyone knows Hey, Good Lookin’, of course, and then he sang Your Cheatin’ Heart, which we knew from Patsy Cline (our dad was a fan) but the words were the same so we joined in. Dave had even recovered enough by then to back him up on the drums.

After that Ryan and I managed to do Chasing Cars together. He’d been teaching himself the tune and I’d been obsessed with that song it first came out. Then Tom and Dave were forced by popular demand to play In the Air Tonight, and Dave made the most of his drum solo, expanding it. 

“Couple of kids I went to school with had that song as their first dance at their wedding,” I laughed as I clapped. “I sat there trying not to giggle as they gazed into each other’s eyes while Phil sang, well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand.”

“Okay,” Dave held up his hand. “Worst first song to play at a wedding, winner gets the first serving of Ryan’s sinful sticky toffee pudding. Go!” he pointed at Tom. 

“Uh . . . U2, I Still Haven't Found What I’m Looking For.”

His suggestion was greeted with a mixture of laughter and wincing ‘Ooh!’s

“Rox,” Dave pointed at me. “And no, you can’t say Phil Collins!”

“Ummmm . . . My Chemical Romance, I Don’t Love You Like I Did Yesterday!”

“Ryan.”

“Don’t Marry her, Have Me, by The Beautiful South.”

“You turn,” I told Dave. 

“Lady Gaga, Bad Romance.” 

Then the suggestions were just flying and I could hardly keep up with who was suggesting what.

Tainted Love by Soft Cell, D.I.V.O.R.C.E. by Tammy Wynette, The Human League’s Don’t You Want Me Baby... Jar of Hearts... What’s Love Got to Do With It?... You Give Love a Bad Name

 You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling... Another One Bites the Dust... Highway to Hell... I’m All Out of Love, anything by Adele, You’re So Vain… You Can’t Always Get What You Want... I Will Survive... Gold Digger by Kanye, 

“No, I’ve got it,” Tom cut in. “Engelbert Humperdinck and Please Release Me, Let Me Go.”

“Step back!” Dave said. 

“We have a winner!” Ryan finished for him. Everyone clapped and cheered.

We adjourned back to the living room for dessert, Dave and Ryan going off hand in hand to the kitchen to fetch it. They’ve been together for about five years now, and it’s good to see they’re still just as lovey and gooey as they always were.

Tom pulled me down onto his lap on the sofa, making me giggle and squirm just as the boys returned with the sticky toffee.

Ryan handed me a double sized portion on a single plate, and went to sit on Dave's lap with theirs.

Tom moaned out loud when I fed him a spoonful, and everybody cracked up. Except Tom, who was too busy having a food orgasm.

“That’s brilliant stuff, Ryan! Can I have the recipe?” I nodded my head frantically, my mouth too stuffed with deliciousness to speak.

Ryan chuckled as he fed another spoonful to Dave and listened to his own moan of appreciation. 

“Nope. You’ll have to come back if you want more!”

Dave chimed in. “Oh yes, please do Tom! You can even bring my sister with you, if you must!” He leaned in confidentially, “Ryan only makes it for company, you see. It’s the only time I get it!”

Ryan rolled his eyes at Dave and turned his attention back to Tom. “But I’ll send the rest home with you, if you like.”

Tom popped the last bite into my mouth and shoved me off his lap, standing abruptly. “It must be getting awfully late! Don’t you think so, Rocky?” He stretched and yawned ostentatiously.

“Oh, um...yes.” I looked at my bare wrist. “Will you look at the time! I’ll just go get the rest and we’ll be off, shall we?”

Ryan laughed and shook his finger at us. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning on doing with my sticky toffee, you naughty things! Tell you what, I’ll even give you an extra pot,” he winked.

Dave thumped his head on Ryan's shoulder. “Ryannn,” he whined, “that’s my sister!”

Ryan turned his head and dropped a kiss on Dave’s head. “Oh like you aren’t planning something naughty for the extra piece I kept!”

Dave leapt up. “Here, let me help you with your coats! So sorry you can’t stay longer!”

Despite being hustled out we had hugs and kisses all around, and plenty of laughter.

“I like your brother. Ryan too. They’re nice chaps.” Tom said later as he was hanging my coat at his front door.

“Yeah Dave’s not bad. He got bloody lucky with Ryan, and he knows it too. Now, where’s that pudding? I have things to do with it!”

The smile on Tom’s face broadened into a leer. “Do you?”

“Yep. I have to give my boyfriend his just desserts for being such a good sport tonight.” I reached for the carrier that Ryan had given us, but Tom lifted it high over my head teasingly. 

I narrowed my eyes at the bag. Nah. Too high. Well, if Mohammed can’t get to the mountain, the mountain will have to come to Mohammed! 

“I’m not jumping for it!” I stamped my foot.

“But darling, it does such charming things to your...charms when you jump!”

I took a couple of steps back, and started to peel my jumper off. “Oh, I think my charms are fine just the way they are.” I reached back to undo my bra strap and the rustle of the bag hitting the floor signalled my victory. Darting under Tom’s arm as he lunged, I swiped my prize and scrambled for the sofa, holding the bag behind my back.

“To the victor go the spoils,” I grinned. 

“Too right,” Tom smiled. “Looks like I win either way…”

I glanced down at the girls. My bra had slipped down under one boob and the shoulder straps had come down to bind my elbows. Well, damn.

Tom strolled in front of me, reaching a finger out to push my bra the last bit off my other boob. I could have easily struggled out of my bra, but Tom looked so happy, what the hell.

Still being in possession of the bag, I raised my head defiantly. “You want my pudding?” I asked.

“Darling, I would love your pudding. Name your price?”

“Hmm,” I pretended to think aloud. “Nice newish car on the driveway… Decent bank balance… Lots of designer gear… Hmm… I want…” I drew it out. Maybe there was a little bit of drama queen in me. “... A kiss.”

“One kiss?” he clarified and I nodded. “One single, solitary kiss?” I nodded again. “That sounds easy enough, deal.”

“Oh, I may have forgotten to, mention, this kiss has to make my toes curl and forget my own name.”

“Is that all?” he smirked. “I think I can oblige.” 

Tom knelt on the floor, carefully taking the bag from my hand and setting it on the side table. He lifted his warm hands to cup my boobs, and I'm honestly not sure who moaned. His hands slid smoothly down my ribs to the waistband of my jeans and deftly undid them, pushing them down and helping me step out.

He nuzzled at the junction of my thighs and made a deep humming sound. Abruptly he stood and slung me over his shoulder. I shrieked as he grabbed the dessert bag and strode off to the kitchen.

He set me down on the edge of the table and opened the bag. “Now, let’s see what we can do with this…”

I opened my mouth to tell him just what he could do with it, but he beat me to it, sliding a finger full into my mouth and following it with his tongue. This time we both definitely moaned. God, the silky toffee flavours, combined with Tom’s tongue? Nirvana!

We giggled and fought a bit over the morsel, Tom trying to steal it back, but he conceded it at last and he let me swallow.

Putting a hand between my breasts he pushed me slowly back to lie on the table. I blinked up at him, still trussed helplessly in my bra, and licked my lips.

“Now I have you just where I want you, my pretty!”

I rather thought that I had him just where I wanted him! The bag rustled and he was dripping caramel sauce over my boobs with a maniacal grin. God, it’s cold! I shivered.

“Thank Christ he didn't make rice pudding!” I joked as Tom drizzled more toffee sauce over my nipple. 

“But baked Alaska might have been fun!” Tom suggested.

“Thanks, we’ve done that—” My words cut off as Tom’s hot mouth wrapped around my nipple, sucking the sauce off and leaving me nearly dizzy with want.

Tom stood back to admire the artistic swirl of sauce he’d left on my body, and fortunately for him, to take his clothes off. I growled at him for taking so long and opened my mouth to scold him, but he popped another bite of the sticky stuff into my mouth.

“Hush now, Rocky! None of your lip, I’m busy!”

He planted a large hand on my torso and began to very delicately lick up all the sweetness from my body. Oh god, he was driving me mad.

Heat was flowing through my body, making me squirm and I felt Tom’s chuckle vibrating on my skin. When he lifted my hips and took a long lick and swirl around my clit I nearly came off the table.

Then Tom was pushing into me at last, leaning over me to kiss me as he thrust into me, rocking us both on the table. I could feel the coil inside me tightening and tightening, Tom’s breath harsh in my ear. 

“Fuck, Rocky!” Tom’s burning eyes stared into mine and I couldn’t look away. His hand went between us, and at the first press of his fingers I exploded with a scream. Tom shouted along with me and I felt the hot wash of his release, both of us still grinding into each other the last little bit of pleasure.

“Oh,” I sighed, getting my breath back. “Thanks for pudding up with me.”

Tom chuckled at the awful pun. “I think you’re flan-tastic, Rocky.”

I groaned. “You know what this means,” I said with gravity. 

“What?”

“We need a bath now.”

“But you’re  cleaning the table!”