#also i just found this out. the band fred is part of apparently made love shack too

[re-colligere]

I can't unthink the thought that Effy would sound like Frederick Schneider from the song Rock Lobster. I can't un-hear it🙏🙏

ASDISJKHGFD OMG I had to look this song up because I've never heard of it...I could def see it DSKFJHSD

[shewholovestoread]

Fear Street Trilogy Review

Beware, spoilers ahead.

I love horror movies but good horror movies are so hard to come by. Fear Street grabbed my attention as soon as they released the first trailer, it looked like a call-back to the slasher films of old, back when they were still good. And the best part was the apparent presence of lesbians, count me in!

Fear Street is based on the books by the same name by R. L. Stine, a lot of us remember Stine for another horror classic, Goosebumps. The Fear Street novels were aimed at older audiences and were way more bloody than Goosebumps- lots of teenagers dying. The films don’t adapt any particular book but rather the tone and rough setting and I think that works to its advantage.

The Setting:

Fear Street is based on the fictional town of Shadyside, the poorer and more unfortunate twin of its sister-town Sunnyside. Sunnyside is sunny, wealthy and where nothing bad ever happens. Shadyside in contrast is poorer, the homes more run-down and where, every few years, some resident snaps and goes on a murderous rampage, killing their own friends, family or whoever they can get their hands on. There are those who believe that Shadyside is cursed by Sarah Fier, a witch who was hanged in the 1600s when she cut off her hand and used it to curse the town.

Fear Street Part 1:

1994 functions like the introduction and set-up for the trilogy. It introduces us to the characters, Deena (Kiana Madeira), Sam (Olivia Scott Welch), Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), Kate (Julia Rehwald) and Simon (Fred Hechinger). They unwittingly trigger the curse when they stumble across the bones of Sarah Fiers, soon killers are chasing them, killing-machines powered by the curse and who can’t be killed. Deena, Sam, Josh, Kate and Simon have to put aside their differences and work together to survive the night.

Fear Street Part 2: 1978

1978 opens with the survivors of 1994 going to C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs), the lone survivor of the Camp Nightwing massacre. It provides insight into the massacre that saw dozens of Shadyside kids being killed. 1978 takes us back to the day leading up to the bloody night. We meet the Berman sisters, Ziggy and Cindy (Sadie Sink and Emily Rudd respectively), Alice (Ryan Simpkins) and Tommy (McCabe Syle) When an axe-wielding murderer starts butchering the camp residents, Cindy and Alice, while trying to escape, stumble into the cave system that runs under the camp and discover Sarah’s hand and that the only way to break the curse is to reunite the hand with her body. However, they are unable to break the curse when they realise that the body is not buried where they thought it would be. Alice, Cindy and Ziggy are killed by the cursed murderers with only Ziggy being revived thus being labeled the lone survivor. In the present day, Deena and Josh dig out the hand from where Ziggy and Cindy left it, when Deena reunites the hand with the body, she sees visions of Sarah Fiers, leading us into the third and final film.

Fear Street Part 3: 1666

1666, the year it all started. We see the events play out leading up to the hanging. Deena is inside Sarah’s body, seeing and experiencing her life as if it were own. We learn that it was never Sarah’s curse, but in fact it was the Goodes who had made a deal with the devil, securing power for themselves (their descendants are the mayor and sheriff in 1994) Sarah Fiers was just the scapegoat. Every time someone saw a vision of Sarah, she was trying to show them the truth and un-dead killers hunted them to keep them from exposing it.

The films work individually but their impact really hits home once you’ve watched all 3. Leigh Janiak crafts such an intricate story and links 3 time periods, weaving them through each other seamlessly. With 3 films, she also has the time to invest in these different time periods and the characters that inhabit them.

The story, both in terms of individual films as well as the trilogy as a whole, is engaging and engrossing. It keeps the audience on their toes and the edge of their seats, waiting and dreading as the bodies pile up. Janiak also grounds the story so that it feels real even as the characters are fighting off un-dead killers, adding to the nail-biting tension.

There’s plenty to admire for a horror film buff, from the Scream reference in 1994, to Friday the 13th in 1978 and The Witch (or VVitch) in 1666. There’s also a good amount of gore to be found along with some really inventive ways of killing, who knew bread cutters/slicers could be so menacing.

There’s so much attention to detail in terms of costume and production design that you really feel like you’re in 1994, 1978 or even 1666. All of these work to draw you in as the viewer, adding to the authenticity on screen. The clothes and places feel lived-in. The song choices are amazing with popular hits from 1994 and 1978, the soundtrack definitely elevates the visuals. The original score in 1666 was absolutely gorgeous, especially Deena and Sam’s theme.

The sequence of the films with 1994 being the first, followed by 1978 and finally 1666 was a great choice with each film revealing a little more of the puzzle till all the pieces are revealed in 1666. It keeps the tension alive and keeps the characters and the audience constantly guessing. It also allows Janiak to sprinkle just enough subtle clues that become apparent when rewatching the films.

The characters are one of the best things in the trilogy, they are so well written, and I mean that for almost all of the main cast which is rare. One of the best things that Janiak does is repeat actors, especially the principle cast. For instance, a lot of actors we see in 1994 and 1978 appear in 1666 playing different roles but with a similar dynamic. It helps tell the story without worrying about too many new faces and worrying about whether or not the audience will be able to keep track of them. The return of old faces also ensures that the audience is already a little invested in them and their well-being.

Small side-note: I really appreciated that there was no sexual violence. It always worries me when I start a horror show/film and it was such a relief that they did not go that route. There is a lot of violence and a lot of people and kids die but it’s always just slightly campy enough that keeps it from being genuinely disturbing.

One of the things that always irk me with slasher films (especially the old ones) are how white they were, no characters of colour and if there were any, they always died. There were also no queer characters. Fear Street undoes that beautifully, all of our main characters are outsiders, they are people of colour, they are queer. In another film, they would have been nameless characters, among the first to die. Here they are the heroes. I loved all of them and I hated that Alice, Kate and Simon died, to be honest, I expected the core group to survive, Kate especially.

Fear Street is also unapologetically feminist and Janiak does this without it being too obvious. The central conflicts in the story are between women (sister/ friends/ ex-girlfriends) but they also band together and fight for each other. It’s worth noting that most of the core relationships are between women (Deena-Sam, Ziggy-Cindy-Alice, Sarah-Hannah) and those are not coincidences.

I loved how gay this trilogy was, Deena and Sam’s love for each other was the driving force and was at the heart of the story. Even in 1666, Sarah’s crime was not so much witchcraft as it was daring to love someone you’re not supposed to and fighting back against the proprietary nature of the men who sought to control them. Sarah and Hannah loved each other fiercely and we see that same love reflected hundreds of years later in Deena and Sam who fight for each other relentlessly. I also appreciated that Deena and Sam were exes instead of a new relationship. It meant that they already had history, they shared a familiarity and comfort with each other that a new relationship would have had to build onscreen.

The Fear Street Trilogy is one of the best horror trilogies I’ve seen in a while, each film is consistently great and delivers gore and violence coupled with immense heart. It has one of the best queer relationships I’ve seen on screen and spoiler alert, they get a happy ending. I’m sick and tired of lesbian women dying or separating because of realism. Damn realism, give me happy women loving women and who live through their traumatic ordeal. Watch Fear Street for them if for nothing else. Now excuse me as I prepare to rewatch the trilogy.

[chiseler]

Hero of Our Nation

I first encountered Roger Ramjet on a Chicago public access station in 1983. It was part of an early morning show apparently aimed at stoner insomniacs. The show came on at five and also included episodes of Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp, that awful Beatles cartoon, and a weather report clarified by some appropriate pop song (“Here Comes the Sun” or “Here Comes the Rain Again”). I was usually up and around that early for some godforsaken reason, and originally started watching on account of Lancelot Link. Always did love that Lancelot Link. But Roger Ramjet was, well, let’s just say it was a revelation.

Roger Ramjet, “ that All-American good guy and devil may care flying fool” (as he compulsively introduces himself) was a none too bright and none too coordinated drug-dependent space age superhero in an ongoing battle against the assorted forces of evil (or more specifically, N.A.S.T.Y.) to preserve the American Way of Life. He was square-jawed, straight-laced, straight-faced, and True Blue if little else, so hyper-patriotic that nearly every time his name is spoken aloud an American flag, a bald eagle, or a rotating ring of stars appears on the screen. After catching one or two episodes, I forgot all about Lancelot Link.

The show was easy to overlook, especially when squeezed between the Beatles and some secret agent chimps with a psychedelic band. The episodes were only five minutes long (maybe seven with the abrasive theme song filling out the opening and closing credits), and were so crudely drawn and animated it might at a glance seem like something a couple of junior high school kids threw together in their basement one weekend. The shows were so primitive they hardly bothered with niceties like “backgrounds” satisfied instead to settle for rudimentary suggestions of a setting. But the writing was so sharp and the voice talent so good what it really felt like, if you paid attention, was a spoof of a ‘40s radio serial like Sky King or Gangbusters, complete with a soap opera organ and illustrated by a handful of jerky drawings scratched out by someone’s kid. People who thought Jay Ward’s Bullwinkle and Dudley Do-Right were crude when compared with the output from Disney or Warner Brothers had no idea what “crude” meant. 

Looking at it today what it reminds me of more than anything are the paper cutout animations of the earliest episodes of South Park, before they upgraded to Flash. Along with the lo-fi stylistics, the humor was clearly aimed at an adult audience while pretending otherwise.  You may not find any child molestation jokes or crass religious cracks in Roger Ramjet, but for 1965 the lightning-fast humor was pretty hepcat and sophisticated, with undisguised satirical references to the Cold War, Central American turmoil, and the  Vietnam War (“Hey kids, this is Roger Ramjet,” demanding that you stay tuned to this station to see my next adventure,” Roger announces in his commanding superhero baritone. “Or I’ll see to it that all you little rascals are drafted.”) . Mixed in with the topical jokes we also get some highly unlikely name drops, from Noel Coward and Henry Cabot Lodge to James Joyce and bawdy nightclub performer Rusty Warren, as well as film parodies and  literary nods to the likes of Catch-22 and Catcher in the Rye.  It’s also a little less than what you might call racially sensitive by modern standards (consider Mexican revolutionaries The Enchilada Brothers, Beef and Chicken).

While a lot of the more timely jokes might be lost in the murk of the over 50 years since it first aired, there’s plenty of rapid-fire absurdity that’s timeless, from the misspelled title cards punctuating the narration to the self-consciously dumb coked-up adventures.

Bullwinkle aired from ‘61 to ‘64. Roger Ramjet came along a year later and Jay Ward’s influence is undeniable. The difference was Roger Ramjet crammed the equivalent number of bad jokes, references, and plot twists of a typical 8-part Bullwinkle serial into each five-minute episode, both mirroring the rapid-fire screwball dialogue of the ‘30s and the frenetic quick-cut comedy to come along a year or two later in shows like The Monkees and Laugh-In.

The episodes were produced with essentially no budget and were cranked out very quickly by a small team of writers, voiceover artists and animators with solid day jobs in radio and TV. They were all seasoned pros, some dating back to the days of classic radio, who worked on the show after hours as a way of letting off a little steam and tossing around a few cynical, subversive  cultural jabs their day jobs wouldn’t allow. The show was created originally by animator Fred Crippen  (who went on to work on some pretty dreadful crap like the Extreme Ghostbusters  and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) and Ken Snyder, an ad exec who moved over into producing cartoons. They brought in a remarkable team of voice talent and comedy writers, including Gene Moss (the voice of Smokey the Bear) Jim Thurmam (who did a lot of kids shows including Sesame Street), Dick Beals (the original voice of Gumby), and the great Gary Owens, a drive-time deejay in LA who would get national recognition soon enough as the on-screen announcer for Laugh-In. Although they would all get specific credits in the end (Crippen as director, Moss as a writer) it was a communal effort, in which everyone contributed to the writing, and everyone, even the executive producer, did a few of the voices. Apart from the regular crew, careful listeners might also catch a few uncredited guest appearances by some surprisingly big names (I’m told Sinatra and Dean Martin appear in an episode, but I’m still looking for that one). Owens was the star, though, as his ability to read the most ridiculous lines in a dramatic deadpan made him the perfect Roger Ramjet. Together they made 156 episodes (about 150 still exist), which were sold directly into syndication in ‘65 as half hour shows, each containing three unconnected adventures. I can’t say as I’m exactly sure who they thought their target audience was at the time, except maybe each other.

Much like William Conrad in Bullwinkle, each show opened with our narrator, Steve Allen alum Dave Ketchum, setting the mood and the scene (“In today’s depressing episode,” he’d begin with dramatic enthusiasm, or maybe it was an “existentialist episode,” “phlegmatic episode,” “rickety episode,”  “hairy episode,” or “ethnic episode”). Then we’re out of the gate at a breakneck pace, with a flurry of gags coming from every direction. “Ramjet rode into Boot Hill,” we’re told,  “where the men were men and the women were men, which can get pretty old after awhile.”

While none of the shows are connected, there are a few recurring characters and locations worth remembering: Roger hails from Lompoc, an actual California town (“where nothing ever happens, and seldom does”) and  takes his orders from General G.I. Brassbottom, a no nonsense military man who “hadn’t had an original idea since he was a civilian.” He’s also assisted by Yank, Doodle, Dan, and Dee, the unusually chubby  kids who make up the American Eagle squadron. Like Roger, all the members of the squadron wear their white jumpsuits and flight helmets at all times (Roger even wears his helmet on dates), and in true superhero sidekick fashion, their primary job is to get Roger out of scrapes and make sure his drugs are handy. 

That’s one little detail more than a few casual viewers have taken umbrage with. Roger, see, is a pretty hapless character most of the time, but he repeatedly saves the world thanks to a little help from his Proton Energy Pills (PEP), which take five seconds to kick in, then give him the strength of 20 A-Bombs for 20 seconds. Modern viewers seem a little uncomfortable with the idea of a superhero gulping amphetamines in order to function, but all I can say is, well, it was a different time, and hey, it worked for Roger and Elvis both.

The proton energy pills come in handy when dealing with his arch-nemesis Noodles Romanoff, the short, trench coat and fedora wearing head of N.A.S.T.Y. (the National Association of Spies, Traitors, and Yahoos). Romanoff may not have a Natasha, but he does have a gang of cronies and thugs who all mumble in unison (save for one, who can’t seem to get the rhythm). 

Along with Romanoff and his gang, Roger also has to contend with some lanky alien robots, the Solenoids (voiced by executive priducer Ken Snyder), and their repeated efforts to invade the planet in assorted ridiculous ways (in one episode, they begin kidnapping all the Miss America contestants, who “were disappearing faster than co-eds at a Dartmouth weekend.”)

When not saving the world, Roger found himself competing with the smarmy hotshot test pilot Lance Crossfire (who sounds an awful lot like burt Lancaster) for the affections of Lotta Love, the fickle Southern belle with a taste for the finer things in life.

Then there are the adventures themselves. Some seem standard superhero fare, but only to a point. Earth is besieged by flying saucer attacks (sort of). Roger’s hometown is terrorized by a werewolf (sort of). Roger plays tennis with a kangaroo, or becomes the first man to surf in space,  or, in a personal favorite, attempts to stop the flow of bootleg comic books into America’s drug stores.

Actually, there’s an interesting moment in that one that revealed just how subtle you could be even with animation this unsophisticated. Okay, so Noodles Romanoff, see, is replacing real comics in drug store racks with bootlegs in which popular superheroes are humiliated, all in an effort to destroy the morale of America’s children. After Brassbottom shows Roger a few examples (the issues include “Superman Gets Beat Up by a Chicken!” and “Ratman Stubs His Toe!”) he explains that if this sort of thing continues, “America’s kids won’t have anyone to look up to except YOU, Ramjet.” Then, for just an instant in that crude and jerky style, Roger cuts his eyes toward the camera, revealing in that moment everything we needed to know, namely that it’s what he’s always wanted.

Thirty years on and that still sticks with me.

In the end, though, the characters and storylines are secondary at best In Roger Ramjet. At heart it’s  a matter of trying to keep up with all the lightning-quick  jokes and wordplay, the non-sequiturs and references. In the five minute span of one cowboy-themed episode I counted nods to at least seven classic Western films, from High Noon to She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and I suspect I missed a few. It really is such a dizzying blur of dialogue and bad puns and cultural references, sometimes, christ, even just references to old jokes that take the form of bad puns (“Waiter, there’s a spy in my soup” or “how many angels can swim in the head of a beer?”), that absurd as it all is, repeated viewings are a necessity to catch everything. It’s a bit like having the complete contents of an issue of MAD magazine jammed onto a single page. It can make your head hurt after a while, but it’s worth it. Whether the density and the pace make it better or worse for stoner viewing is something, I guess, each stoner will need to answer for him or herself. Lots of bright colors, though.

In 1965 there was nothing new about making cartoons with adult sensibilities in mind. Betty Boop and Bugs Bunny were made to be shown as short subjects to largely adult audiences. Jay Ward’s cartoons a few decades down the line were near-revolutionary for smuggling hip, subversive political humor into what had become an exclusively child-friendly format. What made Roger Ramjet so radical was it’s blend of ‘30s radio style with mid-’60s cynicism, as well as its foreshadowing of our shrinking attention spans, a hyper-condensed proton pill of comedy and commentary disguised as just another dumb, low-rent superhero cartoon. Although it’s barely remembered today, its influence is still evident in most any subversive animated show you can name, even if they’ve slowed things down a bit.

by Jim Knipfel

[troutfishinginmusic]

Guide: Lesser-known nu metal albums that hold up

Nu metal is a genre that’s easily derided. It was caricatured as over-the-top angst, baggy jeans and casual misogyny. It was one of the biggest genres when I was first discovering music.

There was plenty of bad music, but to say it was all bad would be inaccurate. It was extremely diverse compared to other metal scenes. It also put issues like child abuse to the forefront, showing survivors they were not alone. Nu metal took a genre that was showing signs of wear and reinvented it. While it soon became saturated by faceless bands (as every popularized genre eventually does), it was important.

As the genre regains popularity, there have been plenty of retrospective lists about bands like Slipknot, Deftones and Korn. There have even been lists detailing some of the lesser known bands. The podcast Roach Koach has done a great job reassessing the genre (It was the catalyst for me making this list). In no order, here are seven nu metal albums you might be less familiar with but are worth your time. These all roughly come from the genre’s original era of popularity.  I’ve also put together a ranking of more established nu metal records at the end.

I love the first couple of Static-X albums, but Cannibal is truly a high-water mark. It’s catchy, concise and extremely heavy. While it has some more straight-ahead metal flourishes (guitar solos!?!), no one could mistake this for another band. And, if nothing else, Static-X is a definitive nu metal band. Cannibal seems to find Static-X revitalized after kicking out a problematic member. Vocalist Wayne Static (who died in 2014) knows exactly what he wants these songs to do. His barking delivery finds spaces in each of these spartan industrial rippers. It represents all the things I like about the genre.

Oracle represents somewhat of a break from the more straight-ahead nu metal sound of Spit, so it might not exactly fit on this list. But ultimately Kittie is forever tied to the genre (much like Deftones), even if they’ve branched out in other directions. Oracle doubles down on heaviness by incorporating death metal influences. Morgan Lander’s vocals kneecap a lot of her more melodically inclined nu peers. It also shows the band progressing, despite losing guitarist Fallon Bowman. When people dismiss the nu metal as an outlet for white male whining, though sometimes deserved, they overlook great albums like Oracle.

Apex Theory’s only album, Topsy-Turvy, is brimming with creativity. Much like System of a Down, which originally featured lead vocalist Ontronik Khachaturianon on drums, the band channels its Armenian heritage. Yet Apex Theory leans into something more melodic, mathy and possibly emo (in more of the At the Drive-In sense). Every aspect of this album feels so precise and thought out. Khachaturianon’s vocals can leap out like a barrage of stream of consciousness yet can just as easily smooth out. It might’ve been a bit too weird for radio but, in a world where SOAD broke, it certainly could’ve happened.

Apartment 26’s final album might be one of the strangest on this list. It’s apparent that it was made to be more “marketable.” Yet those touches make it even weirder. The production here is very polished, but this is still an album that incorporates swing jazz into metal through programmed horns. It’s that oddness, intentional or not, that benefits Music for the Massive. An added bonus is the great cover of “In Heaven” from David Lynch’s Eraserhead (the band’s name is a reference to the film). Apartment 26 easily surpasses its legacy as Geezer Butler’s son’s band on this album.

Taproot’s debut struck on something deeply vulnerable that the band has carried through on subsequent albums. What is often missing on those other albums, though, is the heaviness found on Gift. The band’s raw talent is on display here, recalling System of a Down’s debut. Like that album, influences peek through but the band sound fully formed and unique. Stephen Richards’ distinct vocals, while not for everyone, bend around every twist and turn of these knotty songs. The band moved away from the genre, but created some of its best work within it. Oh, and bonus points for instigating this.

Orgy’s goth-y, processed guitar crunch was often imitated (Deadsy, etc.) but has never exactly been replicated. Candyass in some ways seems like the obvious choice, but there are some awkward growing pains. And really Vapor Transmission is just as good and possibly better. The hooks are bigger, the band commits to the futuristic themes and vocalist Jay Gordon is at the top of his gender-bending industrial crooning game. Orgy remains notable in this era for poking holes in the genre’s inflated macho exterior at every turn. There’s something so transgressive about the way the band operated in nu metal.

New Killer America’s cover always caught my eye when I was a kid. Album art was and still is a big deal to me. I love how subtly gross this is. At the time it was more affecting than the over-the-top gore common on metal albums. It fits the music. Skrape wallows in heavy post-grunge sludge. As Ulrich Wild did on the Static-X albums, there’s a good balance struck between heaviness and accessibility. Skrape had a mysterious vibe that was missing from similar acts that had a tendency to over-share. Despite some awkward vocals/lyrics that come up, NKA is noteworthy.

Honorable Mention: Coal Chamber-Chamber Music, Powerman 5000-Tonight the Stars Revolt, Nothingface-Violence, Mushroomhead-XX, Sevendust-Animosity

Established Classics Ranking

1. Korn-Korn: This was the album that started the genre. Every element that other bands would copy is here. It also features some of the rawist emotion ever recorded (”Daddy”) and some great singles (”Blind,” “Clown”). Some of the lyrics are definitely dated, but there are few metal albums that are as influence and heavy (well, in terms of subject matter) as this.

2. Deftones-White Pony: This album defied every stereotype the genre had. It seamlessly incorporated trip-hop and post-rock influences without sacrificing any of the heaviness. This is the highpoint for a band that rarely has a misstep.

3. System of a Down-System of a Down: SOAD’s debut is heavy, political and completely left-field. It still sounds like nothing else. All of the band’s records are good to great, yet I love how the death metal influences poke out more on this one. That’s a personal preference I guess, I really could’ve picked any SOAD album.

4. Sepultura-Roots: This album is so unbelievably heavy. It’s such a bummer that Sepultura didn’t make a record with this lineup past this point. It’s political in a way a lot of nu metal wasn’t. It seamlessly incorporates the band’s Brazilin heritage. It up-ends any perception about the genre being light-weight.

5. Slipknot-Iowa: This is really the only album from this era that rivals Roots in terms of heaviness. The band draws from a different well than Sepultura, packing Iowa with horror movie imagery. Much of this was to no doubt channel vocalist Corey Taylor’s troubled childhood. There’s something so frantic and desperate captured on this album, which probably has to do with Ross Robinson producing it (he produced Korn’s debut, as well as a lot of other iconic records).

6. Incubus- S.C.I.E.N.C.E.: Few nu metal records are this legitimately fun. Every part of Incubus is bursting with stoned creativity here. It also channels its influences much better than its peers. Somehow metal riffs and bongos go together here. S.C.I.E.N.C.E. showed a more easygoing side of the genre that still retained all the heaviness.

7. Linkin Park- Meteora: Though Hybrid Theory has a lot of singles, I always preferred this one. I think the band forged a bit more of its identity here. It gets a bit heavier, yet retains all the pop smarts. Definitely worth revisiting if you’ve just re-listened to Hybrid Theory to celebrate its recent anniversary.

NOTE: Yeah, Limp Bizkit is not on this list. The band has some cool songs, but ultimately its albums are pretty scattered. Fred Durst is a lot for me to take. The rest of the band is amazingly talented, especially Wes Borland. If its exclusion is annoying to you, please make your own list.

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Chapter 5: The wedding. (Part 3/3)

The ceremony had been beautiful, a perfect mixture of Fleur's culture with the Weasley's traditions...

 

Draco was enchanted with everything, he always loved weddings... The bride's dress, the groom's dress-robes, decorations, the vows... Magic always seemed to surround the recently married couple, bringing them even more together and making them even more in love than before.

 

Of course, that only happen when you got married because of love, not in arrange marriages like it was costumary in the pureblood families. His parents were an exception to the rule, because his mother once told him that she had liked his father since her first year at school. So since that moment, she asked Draco's grandmother, every summer, if she could arrange a marriage with Lucius Malfoy until it became true. His father was taken with Narcissa as well, so as their Hogwarts years went by, they fell madly in love with each other.

 

Draco always dreamed of marrying Harry Potter. He dreamed about having a summer wedding, just like Bill’s and Fleur's, in a beautiful garden, something small intimate with all the ancient traditions; the dances, everything. Now, to that fantasy, he added dancing to 'Love of my life' in their first dance.

 

Not that it would ever happen, of course.

 

He took a sip of his wine as he watched the happy couple dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone was clapping around them as they danced.

 

He could see Mr. Potter smiling softly as he looked at Sirius who grinning wide and beautifully at Bill and Fleur as he clapped to the beat.

 

 Next to them, Remus was trying to explain to Nymphadora that he was quite happy not dancing at all... They were so cute together, it had been quite a surprise to everyone when, last year, after the battle, Tonks kissed him in front of the entire Order of the Phoenix. During the couple of times that they went to have dinner at the Potter's mansion, Draco had taken the opportunity to remind Remus of that scolding, the prior summer, that the blond boy had received for his joke about dating Charlie because of their age difference.

 

Draco's eyes drifted to look at the dragon-tamer. Charlie was laughing at something that Fred and George just said, glass in hand. His dress-robes were almost as dashing as Bill's given the fact that he was the best man, Mrs. Weasley had been quite insistent about keeping the forms and that included the dress-code; the twins were pretty much annoyed about the entire thing. Charlie must had feel his gaze on him because he looked at Draco. The blond boy looked away as quickly as he could, blush appearing in his cheeks.

 

"I think your brother caught me staring at him, be a good friend and hide me, Weasley."

 

The redhead chuckled and waved at Charlie. The blond boy punched him on the arm, which only made Ron laugh before seeing something that seemed to erase his smile automatically. He followed the direction of his friend's eyes to find the source of his discomfort. It was Granger laughing with her international quidditch star ex-boyfriend.

 

Draco brought his glass to his lips before before emptying its content. Hermione was too busy talking with Krum, and Potter was too busy pretending to be a Weasley cousin and talking with Ginevra; hence Ron and him being the bitter bastards of the party. Cheers.The alcohol was starting to low his inhibitions. He didn't mean to drink as much as he had but because of what happened that same morning, he thought that he deserved a bloody break.

 

He turned to look at his friend again.

 

"You know what would be considerably more fun than moping about our love interests, weasel?" The redhead looked at him with amusement in his expression.

 

"Are you drunk already?" Draco only moved his hand, gesturing that yes, more or less. "What's the plan?" Ron asked before leaving his glass on the nearest table. Draco just grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the dance floor.

 

The songs were more fun by then, not as fun as dancing to Queen or, well, any other muggle band, but it was definitely more entertaining than spending the entire night looking at Potter with longing eyes. The song was customary danced by couples, Weasley also knew the steps, probably because Molly or Arthur had force their children to practice before the wedding. Draco and Ron twirled and jumped to the beat, laughing everytime that the weasel stomped on his feet and the blond boy pinched his arm in return.

 

After a while, Draco noticed that almost everyone were looking at them, probably because they were laughing so bloody laud that they were interrupting the party.

 

"I feel judged, ferret."

 

"Couldn't agree more, weasel. How about a drink?"

 

"Yeah, no. You are not allowed to drink anymore, I don't want you tripping all over the place."

 

"I beg your pardon? I seem to recall that you were one who couldn't walk straight to your common room." Weasley smiled smugly at him.

 

"Well, at least, I walk straight sometimes." Draco barked out a laugh and nudged him playfully.

 

Suddenly, someone was touching Draco's shoulder. When he turned around, he found Charlie's gorgeous eyes looking at him, small smirk on his lips. 

"Nice dancing, very smooth, not clumsy at all." Draco lifted his chin.

"I'll have you known that I'm a spectacular dancer, your brother is the one who moves like a troll." Draco could hear Ron muttering a 'Fuck off'.

"Well, how about you dance with a more qualified partner?" The redhead said as he offered his hand to take him back to the dance floor.

Merlin, how Draco wished to don't give a fuck. To not care about Potter, to not think about Theodore; because maybe, if he didn't care about anything, Charlie would seem like an awesome choice. Tall, handsome, brave and kind... Good dancer too, he noticed, funny as hell, he kept whispering things in Draco's ear, trying to make him laugh. He praised him too, said that he looked dashing and that his make-up looked beautiful.

It was so fucking frustrating, he wanted to be able to look at people, really look at them. Like he looked at Theodore, and still, everytime that Potter fucking talked to him, the brunette would instantly disappear from his mind. Because there was no comparison. Yes, he loved Theodore but he wasn't in love with him and he definitely couldn't even look at Charlie, not more than admiring and enjoying his company.

A bright  light irrupted in the tend, a silver Lynx announcing what Draco feared since last year.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

No. Not now.

Everyone started to apparate away and in a matter of seconds Death Eaters were attacking them. Charlie was fighting, along with the rest of the Weasleys, except for Ron who was running towards Hermione. Draco almost ran behind him...

Yeah, no. The golden trio could take care of themselves, Mr. Potter on the other hand had already died once and Sirius tended to do reckless shit when someone was in danger. He found Potter trying to help Ginevra, shouting like a mad man and he caught him by his shirt to stop him.

"SHE IS GOING TO BE FINE! GO, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Draco shouted in between the caos, As he pushed him towards Hermione who was already holding Weasley's hand. Hesitation flashed through the girl's eyes when she realized that the blond boy wasn't making any attempt of running away with them.

"GO. NOW." He commanded at her and the three of them apparated away. Draco couldn't miss the panic in Potter's face before they disappeared.

Good. Now let's find the other two reckless Gryffindors.

It was madness, people were taken away and he could hear the Death Eaters demanding for the guests to hand in Potter.  He found Sirius and Mr. Potter fighting back to back, quite literally, great method to avoid being curse on the back but still, the killing curse couldn't be blocked... They needed to leave.

He ran towards them, almost knocking them to the floor as he casted a Fumos Charm. The cloud of smoke started to surround them as Draco yelled at them.

“We have to leave! We have to find them!”

And that was enough explanation for James who caught both of their arms and apparated them into the middle of the living room of the mansion.

Silence. Fucking finally.

“Kid, you are bleeding.”

“I’ll get the Dittany.” He heard Sirius say before running towards the bathroom cabinet.

Everything was moving too fast. He felt the potion drip over the wound on his shoulder, closing it, hurting like hell. He let out a pained noise.

“Sorry, little cousin, almost done.” Draco shook his head.

“Not your fault, I drank too much.”

After Sirius was done, he asked him to fetch the map that was hidden under his bed. His cousin looked at him with confused eyes but did as he was told. Mr. Potter was frantically pacing around him, so bloody nervous.

“Hurry the fuck up, Sirius!”

“DON’T YOU YELL AT ME, YOU BRAT!” His voice sounded muffled because of the distance and maybe because he had his head under Draco’s bed to get the map.

When Sirius got downstairs to where they were, he had a frowned on his face.

“It looks like a regular map.”

“Because it is. Give it to me.”

His cousin put the map on his hand and Draco unfolded carefully to lay it, on the floor, in front of him. Then he grabbed his wand and casted a Diffindo on his hand. He heard the two men gasp, surprised, as he closed his hand tightly, letting the blood drip over the map. Once it seemed like a good amount, he asked for more dittany on his hand.

‘This is going to work, if you could bring Mr. Potter back to life, you definitely can do this.’

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the spell and only the spell, on the urge to find them. ‘Powerful spells need powerful magic sources, my Dragon prince. Hate or love are powerful enough to kill or save someone, always choose love. Always love deeply, Draco.’His mother’s voice was echoing in his head.

Love. Potter. Weasley. Granger.

He needed to find them.

He took another deep breath before pronouncing the enchantment.

“Reperio ones diligamus, datur nobis ad ones, quae sunt sanguine.” The drops of blood seemed to begin shaking as they listened to Draco’s command. “Reperio ones diligamus, datur nobis ad ones, quae sunt sanguine.” They started to move, slowly, leaving a trail of red as they gathered together and moved towards their destiny. “Reperio ones diligamus, datur nobis ad ones, quae sunt sanguine.” The blood settled on a little spot. Draco frowned.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! They can’t be this stupid!”

His cousin was frowning at the map as well.

“That’s Grimmauld.”

They went to fetch them when Draco said that he was feeling good enough to endure another apparition.

Wands out, entering the old house again, risking being found by Severus again.

They heard Potter casting a stupefy as soon as they crossed the door. Mr. Potter casted a protego just as quick as his son.

“It’s us, Potty. Lower your wand.”

But the three of them were holding out their wands still, and neither Sirius or James lowered theirs.

“What was the first thing that you said about hufflepuff when we met, Malfoy?” The green-eyed boy asked, suspicious.

“That I’d leave if I got sorted into Hufflepuff. When did we meet?”

“At Madam Malkin’s, your mother was looking at wands for you and you told me that you were going to drag your father to look at brooms after.”

Finally, Potter lowered his wand and everyone did the same.

“Why didn’t you come with us? You bloody scared me to death.” The boy hissed at him.

“I needed to find Sirius and your father, Weasley was wearing the necklace,I knew I’d find you after.”

Potter frowned, maybe the weasel hadn’t told him about it... Ron walk towards him and pulled him into a hug.

“This is really the best present that I’ve gotten, ever. Thanks for coming to get us, we didn’t know if we were being followed.”

Draco smiled softly and tightened his arms around the redhead.

“You are not getting rid of me that easily, weasel. I’m just glad that you are safe, really... and don’t you ever dare to take the necklace off.”

“I promise I won’t, ferret.”

Potter face was as moody as it could be, probably mad at Draco for separating him from Ginevra in the middle of the fight. Draco pulled away from his friend and turned to look at the rest of the group.

“Now, how about we really start that horcrux hunt?”

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1968

Under the cut.

John Fred And His Playboy Band – “Judy In Disguise (With Glasses)” -- January 20, 1968

This is not a parody of Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds. It probably would have been better if it had been. It actually makes less sense than that. The narrator seems to resent that Judy wears bracelets. Apparently she dumped him? And in revenge, he plans to take her glasses, which is absolutely foul. Also he does what sounds like sexual moaning some because why not be as tacky as possible. Terrible song.

The Lemon Pipers – “Green Tambourine” -- February 3, 1968

The narrator is asking for pennies for playing his tambourine. That's it, that's the song. Musically, though, it's kinda psychedelic, so that's something. Incredibly lightweight.

Paul Mauriat – “Love Is Blue” -- February 10, 1968

It's an instrumental that starts quietly with a harpsichord. Then there's a loud string/brass part. It's pretty, but it doesn't really stir my imagination. And if an instrumental gives my imagination nothing to work with, and also isn't intellectually interesting, I do not like it. Blah.

Otis Redding -- "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay" -- March 16, 1968

There are few perfect songs. This is one of them.

Bobby Goldsboro – “Honey” -- April 13, 1968

The song feels like trying to wade through honey musically. Except it's bitter, not sweet. Unintentionally so. Honey is the narrator's dead wife. He made fun of her pretty much constantly, then came home one day and she was "crying needlessly," and apparently she killed herself. Now he misses her. This could be a good song if the narrator seemed to realize what he did wrong, or if there were clues in the music and lyrics that showed he was intended to be seen as a colossal jerk. But there aren't.

Archie Bell & The Drells – “Tighten Up” -- May 18, 1968

It's a funk song in which Archie talks rather than sings. Not raps, just talks. He says it's a dance song, but I have no idea how anyone who wasn't an amazing dancer could dance to this beat. It's an odd little piece.

Simon & Garfunkel: “Mrs. Robinson” -- June 1, 1968

Coo coo ca choo. It's a song about Baby Boomer nostalgia before those became suffocatingly ubiquitous. It's also the best of its kind, because it punctures that nostalgia neatly. The guitar and singing are great too, of course. And I always feel like dancing to it, though I don't think that was the intention.

Herb Alpert – “This Guy’s In Love With You” -- June 22, 1968

70s easy listening is coming, whether I like it or not, and this song heralds it. Burt Bacharach wrote this thing. It's not as bad as many (most) of its successors will be, but then Bacharach was far from the worst of the easy listening writers. But I cannot care about this song at all.

Hugh Masekela – “Grazing In The Grass” -- July 20, 1968

It's a jazz trumpet song by a South African musician. So that's interesting. He's no Miles Davis, but still pretty good.

The Doors – “Hello, I Love You” -- August 3, 1968

I'm sorry, Jim Morrison's singing was too sexy. It makes the songs themselves difficult to evaluate. I do think this song is better than "Light My Fire." "Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name" is a great hook. And the music is insistent, and insistently sexual. So yeah, I like the song.

The Rascals – “People Got To Be Free” -- August 17, 1968

"People everywhere just got to be free." Yep. It's a well-meaning song with okay but not great music. There's nothing profound or memorable here, but its heart is certainly in the right place.

Jeannie C. Riley – “Harper Valley P.T.A.” -- September 21, 1968

An upbeat story country song. The Harper Valley P.T.A. sends a note to a widow woman that they don't approve of her short skirts and dating men. But the widow goes to their meeting and calls them all out as hypocrites. It turns out that the narrator is the widow's daughter, and she's proud of her mother. It's got bite, and at the time, a song like this was a big deal. I like it, but musically it is a bit repetitive.

The Beatles – “Hey Jude” -- September 28, 1968

This song is too damn long. No one needs four minutes of "na-na-na"s. Because of that, and that it's musically kinda gloopy, it's one of the few Beatles songs I actually dislike.

Diana Ross & The Supremes – “Love Child” -- November 30, 1968

The Supremes have found their footing again, with a different sound and very different subject matter from what they'd had before. The narrator is the child of an unmarried mother, about which she's always felt shame. Things have changed there since, but not so much with the material conditions of poverty that she grew up in. She's telling her boyfriend she's not going to have sex with him, because she refuses to risk bringing a child into the world with the same problems she had, which makes it one of the Supremes songs in which the narrator doesn't sound like a doormat. It's a little bit disco-ish, but still rooted in Motown. And it's really good.

Marvin Gaye – “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” -- December 14, 1968 

The narrator has heard rumors that his wife/girlfriend is going to leave him for a previous guy. He seems convinced the rumors are true, but I've always thought they were false. And if he keeps being this suspicious, he is going to lose her. It's full Motown, with horns and strings and backup singers. But Marvin Gaye's the only one who really matters musically here. A truly great song.

BEST OF 1968: "Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay" by Otis Redding WORST OF 1968: "Judy in Disguise (With Glasses)" by John Fred and His Playboy Band

[jasonfry]

With baseball quickly approaching (for who knows how long), time for a pandemic installment of Classic Movies Everyone’s Seen But Me!

Summertime (1955) 

David Lean works small (for him) in terms of both running time and vistas. He does a wonderful job with Venice, making the city practically a character in its own right -- and as someone who knows Venice well and loves it, I only caught Lean cheating on the geography a couple of times.

The real star isn’t the setting but Katherine Hepburn. Hepburn plays Jane Hudson, a middle-aged secretary from Akron, Ohio, who claims to have given up on romance. She hasn’t, of course, but it appears as if romance has given up on her -- Jane is a third wheel for the movie’s other couples and feels left out of even men on the make’s appraisals, spending the early part of the movie bonding with a street kid and the widow who runs her pensione. I’d write that it’s the kind of part that wasn’t written for actresses in the 1950s, but it’s the kind of part that isn’t written for actresses today. Hepburn inhabits the character beautifully, letting you see Jane’s hesitation and heartbreak in piercing scenes that sometimes rely entirely on body language, and Lean gives her the space to work, even when it’s an uncomfortable experience. A near-flawless performance.

The love story feels a little slight at first, but the ambiguity about what you should feel is intriguing. (Apparently this was even more the case in The Time of the Cuckoo, the play upon which Summertime was based.) Extra points for the Code-evading shot that tells us two characters have consummated their relationship. It’s only slightly subtler than the famous conclusion of North by Northwest.

Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)

Claude Rains has a marvelous time as the title character, an unruffled bureaucrat in charge of the afterlife who has to fix the case of a boxer taken up to Heaven a bit too soon. (The film was remade in the 70s with Warren Beatty and called Heaven Can Wait, the name used in its first incarnation as a play.) Rains is terrific, but the rest of the movie is pretty forgettable: Robert Montgomery is genial but not particularly memorable as prizefighter Joe Pendleton, and the plot logic breaks down completely in the endgame. 

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Another Rains vehicle, in he stars as the evil Prince John, scheming brother of Richard the Lionhearted and foe of Robin Hood, played (of course) by Errol Flynn. Rains somehow retains his dignity despite a horrific wig and some astonishing costumes -- there’s one black and silver getup whose shoes have to be seen to be believed.

But all the characters are wearing ridiculous things all the time, shown off via the movie’s thoroughly saturated palette. There are men-at-arms in purple and pink motley, the merry men’s green tights, Flynn’s honest-to-goodness bedazzled emerald top, a lady-in-waiting’s Fancy Shriner fez, and we haven’t even discussed the get-ups Olivia de Havilland sports. The costume designer whizzes past All Too Much before the first reel’s over and just keeps going. And the dialogue keeps up with the costumes. Robin Hood may be the campiest movie I’ve ever seen -- it makes The Birdcage look like Shoah. 

Flynn is capable with a sword and performs his stunts with swashes properly buckling, but man oh man could he not act. He has two basic expressions: fighting and making merry, and looks a little lost when the story requires him to investigate whether a situation requires choosing between the two.

Fortunately that doesn’t happen too often, and you’ll have fun anyway. This is the template for about a billion adventure stories made since then, and it’s entertaining even when you’re not elbowing the other person on the couch to point out what was waiting in Claude Rains’s dressing room this time. Think of it as a live-action cartoon and enjoy the ride.   

Love in the Afternoon (1957)

Audrey Hepburn is the innocent, cello-playing daughter of a Paris private investigator (Maurice Chevalier) who interferes with her father’s work by preventing an American playboy (Gary Cooper) from getting shot by a jealous husband, then pretends to outdo the playboy at his own no-consequences game.

The story is light and amusing, with Chevalier ably serving as the fulcrum who helps it turn into something poignant and more interesting at the end. (The voiceover as coda, by the way, was added for Code reasons.) And Billy Wilder (co-writing and directing) guides the ship with a light, skilled hand -- the scenes between Cooper’s Frank Flanagan and his hired band are particularly fun.

There’s a fatal flaw, though: While Hepburn has never been more luminous, Cooper is too old to be the leading man. Wilder knew this, using soft focus and dim lighting in an effort to be kind that just calls attention to the movie’s fatal flaw. Moreover, Flanagan’s neither particularly interesting nor pleasant, so you never believe Hepburn’s Ariane would actually be interested in him. (He’s rich, granted, but she doesn’t seem to care about that.)

Directors kept doing this to Audrey Hepburn in the 1950s: Three years earlier, Wilder stuck her with a half-rotted Humphrey Bogart in Sabrina; in 1957 she also had to put up with a mummified Fred Astaire in Funny Face. Beyond the fact that it’s creepy, it doesn’t work for those stories. 

I’m going to look on the bright side: Hepburn deserves even more adulation than she gets, since she rises above her AARP romantic leads to carry all three pictures.

The 39 Steps (1935)

A clever early Hitchcock I found intriguing because you can see the visible language of film evolving before your eyes. Some scenes look utterly modern, with intriguing camera angles and blocking, but they’re right next to oddly static compositions, or scenes filled with cuts that cross the line for no apparent reason. But there’s also a justifiably famous transition shot from a cleaning woman’s horrified discovery to a train whistle, a tricky perspective change from inside a car, and some other nice surprises.

The movie is a prototype Hitchcock thriller, with a plot that carries you along provided you don’t ask too many questions. (Or any questions, really.) But the movie hits its stride surprisingly late, coming into focus once Robert Donat’s Richard Hannay winds up manacled to Madeleine Carroll’s Pamela. Hang around that long and you’ll be well entertained.

McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971)

This one made my list because it was an inspiration for Solo, a Star Wars spinoff movie I think deserved a better reception and suspect will be viewed more fondly in time. Yep, that’s Warren Beatty’s fur coat that Alden Ehrenreich wears, and the bar Beatty visits in the town of Presbyterian Church is a dead ringer for the one where Han and Lando Calrissian meet over cards.

So that was fun. As for the rest, after my usual post-movie reading, I get what Robert Altman was going for. This is an anti-Western that relentlessly inverts the genre’s tropes, with the climactic gunfight happening not in the center of town before all eyes, but scarcely noticed as the townspeople rush to put out a fire.

But I found that more interesting to read about than to watch. I was never invested in Beatty’s McCabe or Julie Christie’s Mrs. Miller, finding them less memorable than a young visitor who runs afoul of trouble (Keith Carradine) or the lead bounty hunter sent after McCabe (Hugh Millais, exuding genial menace).

Still, the movie has a powerful sense of place, I keep finding myself thinking about it, and lots of people whose opinions I respect consider it a classic. So perhaps I’ll revisit this one someday. But for now, my conclusion is that I’m missing whatever gene you need to appreciate chilly, airless Hollywood art-house movies of the 1970s -- a movement, ironically, that screeched to a halt when Jaws and Star Wars introduced the era of the summer blockbuster.

[leah-halliwell92]

Rock is Also a Classic

Summary: Francesca “Frankie” Walker, 29, marine biologist and musical virgin was raised in a borderline fanatically religious family. Which has its downsides, one of them being what music you can listen to. So having been raised mainly on classical music and music provided by your parents (i.e. music worship) made it hard for her to connect to people her own age. Now that she’s older she has the chance to do what she’s always wanted...be free.

Chapter 1

“Come on Frankie,” Mara your colleague and friend said she took off the wet suit after they’d fed the sting rays.

“Fine I’ll go,” She said with a laugh, “Who are you going to see anyway?” 

Mara seemed to bounce where she sat on the edge of the tank and stood picking her suit as she stood before saying, “We are going to see her majesty Queen!”

“The queen?” Frankie said not believing who they were going to see.

“Not the queen as in the Queen of England,” Mara said knowing why her friend was so skeptical. 

They had grown up in similarly sheltered homes so knew it would take a bit of a crash corse to teach her about who Queen are and everything in between. Not to mention teaching her of the glory that is Freddie Fucking Mercury.

“They are a band called Queen,” Mara clarified as Frankie stood and picked up her own wet suit, “They are a band from the 70′s that changed the corse of music as we know it.”

“You’re going to take me to see four old men–”

“Um...here’s the thing,” Mara said as they made their way to the locker rooms and change, “Freddie, the lead of the band died in 1991 due to AIDS. Fred was unique and as pop culture goes if a band has one outstanding attribute then...”

“The other pieces that make the whole mean nothing,” she said understanding where this is going as they changed into the aquarium uniform before making their way to their lunch break.

“Roger Taylor, the band’s drummer, and Brian May, the band’s guitarist are the only ones active; that have been active since Freddie’s passing since John their bassist decided to retire after the tribute to Freddie a year or so later,” Mara said.

“That’s sad,” Frankie said as they made their way to grab some food.

Mara nodded and said, “But hey, they found Adam Lambert through AI!”

“Wait...You mean to tell me they found a contender to fill in for Freddie?” Frankie asked.

Mara nodded and excitedly said, “What I like most about it is that he has stated on more than one occasion that he is not trying to replace Freddie. It’s why the show is called Queen and/with Adam Lambert.”

Frankie laughed at her friend’s antics and dug into her lunch before asking, “When’s the concert then?”

Mara played the innocent angel as she said, “Tomorrow night.”

Frankie nearly did a spit take coughing as the too short notice day was said.

“Mar, you know I don’t have the same days off as you! Besides, where on God’s green Earth are you going to get tickets for what I’m sure is a sold out show?” She asked exasperatedly.

“Calm down Frank! The boss said you’ve been working over time for the past few months and told me to tell you to go talk to her about it,” Mara said completely at ease, “She told me to tell you when I requested the day after tomorrow off.”

Frankie sighed and dropped her head on her hands at this. 

“Frank...you know the boss is right,” Mara said soothingly.

“I know, but this is what happens when my mom’s idea of a visit is to barge into my apartment on my day off, demand I be a good hostess and tend to her and take with the grace of a nun shot after shot about why I shouldn’t have move away and married Josh from across the hall,” Frankie let out frustratedly, “I can still hear her, ‘He’s such a nice boy Francesca! You’d adore him as much as he has you!’”

“As much as he has!?” Mara said eyes wide in shock, “What in the hell did she mean by that?”

“Apparently he’s had a crush on me since forever,” Frankie said, “She insists there is still time for me to kick this “phase” I’m in, move back in and become the wife the Good Lord meant for me to be.”

“That’s bullshit,” Mara said.

“I know,” Frankie said taking a drink from her coke, “I’m tempted to transfer just so that I can make it harder for her to visit. Not even my dad is this stringent anymore!”

“Last you said, hadn’t he raved about Star Wars?” Mara asked after swallowing her bite of food.

“Yep, over and over he went on and on about how he could and should have been more lenient with us growing up,” Frankie said with a sigh, “How having things to decompress and/or relax with is just as important as having your faith.”

“Better late than never though right?” Mara asked as she finished the last of her food.

Frankie shrugged and said, “Yea but now it’s like he’s fighting against the tide because out of both my parents my dad is the only one who wants me to not only see the world but live it and be a part of it as well. I mean before he was about finding my way in life and all that. But now its about how important it is for me to be as independent as I can be.”

“And you mom doesn’t agree?” Mara asked curiously.

“Mom’s half Italian-ness shows here. She’s from the country side and was raised in the fully loaded traditional side of things where man is the bread winner and woman is she who tends to children and home,” Frankie said with a sigh before adding, “Dad spent some time out in the world when he was a young man and learned that balance is the second most important thing in life besides your faith. It’s why he fought my mom so much when my brother and I were growing up. Part of the reason why Vince is a hard ass every time mom brings up dating for either of us.”

The pair finished their lunch and continued on with their work day with ease. 

Near the end of her shift, Frankie did as Mara asked and went to see their boss.

“You wanted to see me?” She said after knocking on the office door.

“Yes come in,” Sarah, her boss, said with a kind smile.

Frankie had gotten nervous at that but did as was asked.

“You’re not in trouble Francesca,” Sarah said with a kind smile.

Sarah is a middle aged good natured woman that is loved by most if not all the crew under her. She is a fair leader and suuuuper reliable. 

“I’ve seen the hours you’ve been putting in for the past months,” Sarah began, “Is everything ok?”

“Just needed to keep myself busy,” Frankie said not wanting to elaborate too much.

Sarah sighed having a hunch of what is going on since Mara fills her in some from time to time and said, “Mara’s told me there’s a Queen concert in town, yes?”

Frankie nodded.

“Why not take the next couple of weeks off?” Sarah asked suggestively, “Lord knows you’ve earned them.”

Frankie smiled and nodded before standing and making her way out.

“And Francesca,” Sarah called.

Frankie turned to see her boss giving her a wide smile.

“Enjoy the concert! And should you have the chance to meet them...Brian is a sweet as he can be,” Sarah said with a knowing wink.

Frankie smiled brightly at that and nodded.

Little did she know that despite her lack of knowledge of who Queen and her members are/were, she was going to draw the attention of a certain space man.

–//–

Don’t forget to like, reblog and leave a comment!! If you’d like to be tagged here or my permanent Queen/Borhap list let me know!!!

–//–

Tag List: @pansexualqueendarling, @queenattheopera, @brianandthemays, @theborhapboysawakenedmywhatever, @ramibaby, @captain--americanna, @awkwardangelshezza, @avengerraven1023, @danamaleksworld, @pastywhiteperson, @readinghorn, @i-was-born-like-this, @redspecialstardust, @reedusteinrambles, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @readinghorn, @subbysharkbabe, @capan-devereaux, @bowieandqueen11, @bellamy1998, @reedusteinrambles, @simply-sams-things, @sincereleygmg, @bleu-jean-baby, @brian-mayonnaise, @0hour9am, @toomuchtellyneck, @kimanne723, @sincereleygmg, @kyleetheeditor, @glamrockmonarch, @rawyld, @queensdivas, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession

[wonwoosthetic]

Not Only In Love With His Car | Part One || Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor

MASTEERLIST is linked in my info box - I can’t put links on individual posts at the moment, otherwise they won’t show up here!

PART TWO also on my MASTERLIST

SO, I don’t know if I should try to excuse myself or not, but I just want to say that I’m incredibly thankful for every single one of you and to see that people still read my imagines and follow me although I haven’t been as active as I would have liked to!

THANK YOU!!!! <3

Just so you know, I combined two requests because I added one thing that changed the story slightly, I hope that’s okay. Don’t worry, I will write a lot more imagines about each of those amazing men because I love them! :)

Request: Hiii! Could you maybe write a R.Taylor (B.Hardy) x reader fanfic,maybe like they are secretly dating and the other members find out about it ? But if you don’t like the idea,you don’t need to.Basically,I it can be anything with R.Taylor

Request: Please can you write a Ben Hardy Rodger Taylor fic. I don’t have anything idea in particular so you have all creative control. I am just dying for more Ben Hardy imagines

Not Only In Love With His Car

— 3rd Person —

“What? Why?” Brian was just as confused as his two other friends that were staring at Roger with questioning looks on their face. “She wants to write her thesis about us. About… our story”, the blond explained. John spoke up, “But we don’t have a story to tell.” Roger pointed his finger at the bassist, “Not yet.”

The drummer was trying to convince his band members to let his “best friend” travel with them to the new recording studio, to spend more time with everyone since she apparently wanted to write her thesis for university about Queen. Brian was yet to be convinced, John was partly okay with it, and Freddie was sure there was more behind it but had not participated in the conversation yet.

“What do you think about it, Fred?” The guitarist turned to the lead singer. He shrugged and put his right hand on his hip, “I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. The people should know what we did.” A proud and wide grin started forming on Roger’s lips, as Freddie sent him a wink. “Alright”, Brian didn’t sound too excited about the idea of having a female on board – distraction and stuff -  but he knew, this argument was not his to win.

The truth was, Roger really just wanted to spend more time with his girlfriend of nine months. He hasn’t been the best boyfriend, that he would have liked to be, for the time they’ve been together – he felt as if he has been putting their relationship second, more times than acceptable. Though, his girlfriend was completely fine with his jump-starting music career and hasn’t even complained once, still… Roger has felt the guilt coming up and wants to change that. He wants to be the boyfriend every girl dreams to have. The only problem here: the rest of the band doesn’t actually know about the secret relationship their friend has been having – hence why it’s secret. Thankfully, this secret girlfriend is studying Journalism and has to find a bombing story for her thesis - what would be better than the story of Queen. She, more than any other person, was convinced, that the band was going to have its big breakthrough and would be soon touring through continents.

--- 2nd Person ---

It was you, Deacy, Brian and your boyfriend in one car, whereas Freddie and Paul, who you have learned to dislike slowly but surely, were driving ahead of you to the "recording studio". Holding Roger's hand in the back of the car, was the only thing that didn't keep you from completely losing it and having a panic attack from the excitement building up. "Thank you, again", you whispered into his ear. "You've said this exact phrase at least thirty times in the last twenty-four hours. You're absolutely welcome." Thankfully, the two other band members were in the two front seats, not able to see what was going on in the back between you two lovebirds. Driving up to an even dirtier road, only mud and more mud, the car came to a sudden hold. You took a glance outside the window, "Where are we?" Brian turned the car off, took the keys in his hand and opened the door, "Our studio for the next couple weeks... maybe months." Before following his action of getting out, your head turned back to your boyfriend who had just the same facial expression on his face as you - confusion. Freddie was already walking all over the place, checking everything out while Paul was taking out the luggage, ready to get them inside of the house. You were surrounded by the smell of... farm - that's the only thing that came to your mind. Roger was throwing sceptical glances all over the place, "Recording studio?" The other man carried two bags into the house, "Well, the idea was to get away from all the distractions." You, standing next to your boyfriend, spoke up next, "In Freddie's defence...", you looked around, taking it all in, "You do get away from all the distractions because there's literally nothing here." Roger nodded in agreement, eyes wide open.

All of us decided to follow Paul inside, carrying our own stuff after noticing that  Paul only put the lead singer's bags in the house. Before being able to put them down, Paul motioned for you to follow him further up the stairs - he tried to keep the mood light by making some jokes... it didn't work. "Roger, you're in here", he showed the blond to his room, getting a quick, "Alright", as a response - and then he was gone. "Freddie, this is you, biggest room. Brian, that's you", he stood still in the middle of the small hallway upstairs. Paul clapped his hands and shot you a look, "Yeah... (Y/N)... ehm... I was going to ask you, but probably forgot... you would be taking the living room. Is that okay?" "Yeah, of course", you truly were completely fine, yet your boyfriend wasn't, "Nah, she's gonna stay with me, the bed is big enough to fit three people in." Our "guide" nodded in agreement and left to show Deacy to his room... in the basement - how nice of him. You walked over to the blond head, "Roger, do you want to be any more obvious?", "What do you mean, obvious?" You only gave him a 'you-know-what-I-mean'-look as he kept on talking, "They won't suspect anything, come on", with a really hot head nod, he told you to get into the room, not caring if one of the members had seen it. Roger threw himself on the bed, bouncing right back up, making the both of you laugh. "Well, that's gonna be interesting to sleep in", he smirked, looking up to you. "It's not that bad", you tried making the situation of the actually quite... shit room at least a bit better. The drummer's grin only got wider, "I didn't mean bad, but loud", and with that, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you on the bed as well, making you fall on top of him, a loud laugh escaping from your lips - Roger's heartbeat sped up. His arms were tightly wrapped around your neck, nuzzling his face on top of your head, while your arms found their way around his waist. "You can't believe how happy I am to have you here." Your head turned upwards, looking him directly into his eyes - the only thing you saw was pure love and adoration. Not wanting to give him a verbal answer, you planted a kiss on his lips instead.

--- Later That Night ---

You woke up in the middle of the night by the sound of an angelic voice coming from, what sounded like, the attic above you. "Love of my life...", Freddie sang silently to himself, you thought. A smile formed on your lips, just hearing his voice made you happy. Your boyfriend's arms were tight around your waist as if he was scared you would leave him. You tried going back to sleep, using the singing as a soothing to make you sleepy, yet you were way too nosy not to go and check up on the lead singer - you promised Mary to keep an eye out for him. Carefully, you took Roger's hand and draped it over on to his side. He started turning away from you, his arm now close to himself. The squeaky bed was the next problem. Getting up from it was like trying to break into a museum and avoiding all of the red lasers. As soon as you stood up straight on your feet, you collected a bra, shirt,  pyjama sweats, and a pair of socks that were still in your suitcase since you didn't really get time to unpack it. After putting everything on, you opened the bedroom which was almost as squeaky as the bed. Thankfully, the stairs to the attic were not far from the room you were sleeping in, so you were able to hopefully not disturb anyone. Walking up, you started hearing two voices instead of only Freddie's. A couple steps up, you were able to peak into the room through the railing. It was a quite dark lit room with a lot of instruments all over the place and even a sofa, where... Paul was sitting. You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion, watching him get closer to the singer, putting out his cigarette. Fred tried looking away, acting not to seem interested. All of a sudden, in the short moment that he looked up from his notes, Paul smashed his lips onto the other man's. A gasp escaped your lips, going unnoticed by the two. Your hand flew to your mouth, shutting yourself up. Your heart was beating uncontrollably, not understanding... rather, not wanting to believe, what you had just witnessed. As the thought of Mary shot in your head, tears started forming in your eyes. You had known Mary for as long as you had known Roger - very long. Not even wanting to imagine the pain she would be in if she knew what had just happened right in front of your own eyes. After trying to calm yourself down as much as possible, you made your way back to your shared bedroom. Silently tiptoeing back and closing the door behind you. "Where'd you go?" Roger's spoke up from his lying position looking up at you in the dark. You jumped up, "Oh gosh, you scared me, I thought you were asleep." You crawled back into the comfort of the sheets and your boyfriend's arms. "I was until I noticed you were gone", "Sorry Rog, I didn't want to wake you up", you excused yourself. "Where were you?" Even though you hated lying to him and wanted to tell him about what had happened, you couldn't - you couldn't do that to Freddie. Therefore, your answer was simple: "Just the bathroom." The blond led it slide, too tired to hear if you were telling the truth or not and went back to sleep peacefully now that you were back in his arms. You, on the other hand, were absolutely not able to sleep in any peaceful way. The shame, the guilt, the sadness, everything was swelling up inside of you, making it impossible for you to fall asleep for the following three hours.

--- The Following Morning ---

The sun, a cold feeling, but most importantly, shouting woke you up. Opening your eyes, you saw it was finally the morning. Turning around, you couldn't see Roger anymore, but by taking a look at the hanging clock on the wall across from you, you instantly knew why - it was ten o'clock and Roger was never the one to truly sleep in. The happenings of last night shot back into your mind, making you wince. After not being able to fall asleep, you came to the conclusion to confront Freddie. You didn't hate him for what happened, neither were you ever going to hate him, but still... he had to tell Mary - and that was what you would tell him. The shouting became louder, so you decided to get up properly and take a look downstairs. The first thing you heard as soon as your feet hit the ground floor was your boyfriend's voice, "You call me sweet like I'm some kind of cheese." Which was followed by Brian's mumbling. You entered the kitchen where all of the shouting voices came from and came to sight with Roger turned towards you, Brian and John's backs facing you, and Freddie in the corner. "When my hand's on your grease gun. It's very subtle", the guitarist read out loud, making you chuckle. "It's a metaphor, Brian!" Your boyfriend defended. John spoke up next, "It's just a bit weird, Roger. What exactly are you doing with that car?" You decided to step in, seeing that Roger was just about to explode, "Good morning guys." All of their heads turned into your direction, smiling and each one of them giving you a "Good Morning" back. The drummer let a little "Morning, babe" slip, and only Freddie noticed it. You walked behind the counter, arms crossed, and stopped right next to your secret boyfriend, "What's all of that shouting about?" Roger had already prepared a cup of coffee and handed it to you. "Rog wants his song to be on the album", the bassist explained. "And what's the problem with that?" You questioned in confusion. "I'm in love with my car." Brian's answer made you choke on your coffee. "What?" With raised eyebrows, you turned your head to the blond. "It's a metaphor!" He shouted once more. Freddie tried calming everyone down, but John had to make a comment about how most bands don't fail but break up. You shook your head, not believing what was happening - they were fighting like children. Your eyes drifted from one member to another one, following whoever was talking, well... still shouting actually. "Roger, there's only room in this band for one hysterical queen", was Fred's only response before exiting the room, stepping outside into the fresh air. You contemplated whether or not to follow him, but something flying right in front of you into Brian's face, followed by, "Is that strong enough?!" "Roger!" You shouted at him, coming to the realisation that it was him that threw it. He looked for more things to throw around and eventually even found the probably most precious thing in the entire kitchen.

"Not the coffee machine!" John, Brian, and your voice echoed through the room at the drummer. You needed to take it into your own hands, "Guys, please! You act like little kids, calm down, it's just a song. You can talk-", you got cut off by Roger storming out of the room. A sigh left your lips. You knew, following him now wouldn't be the best decision, therefore you decided it was time to confront Freddie, but not before talking to the other two men, "Why can't you guys just... just let him have that one song." Brian spoke up, "Just because it's about you, doesn't mean you need to defend him. It's just not good." Your heart stopped for a second, "What? About me?" Now it was John's time, "Oh, come on as if we don't know. If he was actually talking about his car like that, we should be worried about him. And you're the only girl we ever got to meet. And please, oh my god, don't let me get started on how he talks about you." He shook his head drastically with a smile on his lips. Brian smirked at you, "He's not only in love with his car." You tried avoiding their eyes, looking around the room with your arms crossed, "Still... maybe it's not as bad." And with that you left the room, ready... well, not ready but having to confront Freddie. 

Just as you walked outside, the guitarist's voice echoed, "It is!" making you giggle a bit. You weren't able to keep that emotion though, as you came to face with the dark-haired man's back. Your footsteps, which you made by wearing Roger's shoes that were right next to the door, were heavy and loud due to all of the mud and made Freddie turn around. "(Y/N) everything alright again inside?" "What do you think?" You smiled kindly at him which he returned. As you got next to him, he pulled out an open pack of cigarettes, offering you one - you declined, "I don't smoke, but thank you?" He looked at you curiously, "Why not?" And you shrugged your shoulders, "Just never been into it, I don't mind it though." He nodded with a smile. Before really getting to the subject as to why you came out here, you took a deep breath, "Freddie...", his head turned to you, "I...", you didn't know how to start this conversation. "I like you, okay? You're a wonderful person and you make Mary the happiest she's ever been. But...", you couldn't look him in the eyes, therefore, they found their way to the ground, "You have to tell her what happened yesterday." The lead singer was confused, so you carried on, "Last night, I heard you singing in the attic and I just wanted to know why you were still up and just check on you", suddenly it hit him and he shifted uncomfortably, "... I saw what happened with Paul." After your confession, you got the courage to look back up again and saw tears welling up in his eyes. "I know you're not that kind of man who'd just do that behind her back, but... you have to tell her. I won't, I promise", you spoke quietly and as soothing as possible. "I didn't want this to happen...", his voice cracked and you placed your hand on his back. "I know...", "I love her, I really do", he declared. You started rubbing circles, "I know, I know... but that's why you have to tell her. She'll understand." "Do you really think so?" He looked at you, his eyes full of tears and hope. You nodded with a smile and went to hug him tightly. "You are an amazing human being, Freddie", you whispered in his ear, knowing that he needed a form of cheering up. After parting again, he gave you a smile, assuring you that he would be alright as he wiped his tears away. "You should go and cheer up your boyfriend instead of me." "What? How- what?" You were just as confused as you were in the kitchen a couple minutes ago. "Oh, darling, please. His car is not the only thing he's in love with." His comment made you smile, "Why is everyone-", you threw your arms out and left with a sigh and the smile still on your lips, making Freddie laugh.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is a bit of a longer one, but I hope this somehow made up for the time I had been off. Thank you for supporting me and I hope those who requested it enjoyed it, everyone else of course too! :)

Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day/night! <3

[numba99]

Model Behavior Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary:You’re an aspiring model in NYC who is offered an opportunity of a lifetime - an arranged relationship with a famous Ranger. Things start out rough and are further complicated by the fact you’re already in a relationship. Will you be able to figure things out or will it all end in disaster? Word Count:

Warning: none for this part! but this is the end!! thank you all for reading and being so patient I know I took f o r e v e r with this so I love y’all for sticking around! (also I think I got out all the Harrys this time if I missed one im sorry ignore it!!!)

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“Ugh,” Mika groaned as his cellphone pull him from his sleep. You frowned, trying to roll away from the noise, but it didn’t make a difference. You lifted your head, searching for the time. Finally, you found a clock, which read 7am. No wonder you still felt exhausted.

“Did they have to fucking call so early,” Mika grumbled, voice low and raspy. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, answering it right before it went to voicemail. “Hello?”

You were going to try to listen in, but then your phone started going off. Yup, you thought, we’ve been caught. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you hoped as you grabbed your phone.

“Hi Alice,” you answered, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“Y/n, you know why I am calling,” she stated, her voice flat and annoyed, “Get into the office. Now.” The line clicked off. Shit. This was not good.

You looked over at Mika, who was setting down his phone with a heavy sigh. “Looks like we’ve got a trip to make.” You nodded, trying to remain calm. You knew this was coming, of course, but it was still scary. Last night you had been on a high, feeling somewhat invincible. Now that you were actually going to have to face the repercussions of you actions you were feeling a lot less confident.

You slipped back into the outfit you wore last night, glad that it looked somewhat professional. Mika, on the other hand, seemed to care a bit less about how he looked. He jeans and an old band tee with a pair of Vans. He looked great of course - the man couldn’t look bad if he tried. But it wouldn’t have been the outfit you would have chosen for a meeting that could lead to you being fired.

“Ready?” Mika asked, standing by the door. You nodded, but it wasn’t very convincing, apparently. “Are you okay love?”

You shrugged. “I’m just scared.”

“Don’t worry, babe, I’m going to take care of us, okay?” Mika assured you, kissing your forehead softly. You nodded again, feeling slightly better, but still not 100% ready for this.  

You and Mika decided to walk to the office, since it wasn’t that far and using another driver would feel like you were cheating on Fred. Plus, walking takes longer, so it gave you more time before whatever shit show was about in ensue. Mika held your hand tightly as you walked, and you were grateful for that. He made you feel stable even when everything else felt like such a mess.

Your modeling agency came into view, making the nerves in your stomach bubble. If Mika was nervous, he didn’t show it. You wished you could be as calm and collected as he was. As you walked through the glass doors of the building, you wondered how different your life could be when you walked out.

The elevator up took longer than ever. Each floor seemed to creep by painfully slow. Mika squeezed your hand as each passed, giving you the little boost you needed. As you walked to Alice’s office, you took slow breaths, trying to keep yourself calm.

Mika pulled Alice’s door open and you could instantly feel the tension. Alice and Steve stood behind her desk, both looking completely fed up. You felt like a kid getting in trouble again, only this time in stead of detention you were getting expelled.

“Sit,” Steve stated, clearly the more pissed of the two. Mika seemed to saunter over, confidence exuding from him. You followed after him more like a scared animal. “I’m sure the two of you know why you’re here.”

“Yup,” Mika stated simply.

“Are you aware of the serious repercussions for this stunt the two of you are pulling?” Steve demanded.

“Nope,” Mika yawned, stretching his arm around your shoulder, “But I bet you’re going to tell me.” Steve’s nostril’s flared, Mika’s blasé attitude pissing him off even more.

“You could lose your contract and you,” he turned to you, making you jump back a bit, “You will lose your modeling contract and be blacklisted. No one will hire you in this industry. Both of you are facing enormous lawsuits. Millions of dollars between the two of you.”

Your heart stopped. Millions? You didn’t even have thousands. That number didn’t even seem like it could be real to you. Not to mention you were getting blacklisted. Losing your contract would suck, but you could manage. If you were blacklisted there would be no hope. You’d be fucked.

You looked at Mika who was eerily calm. How could he not even be a little freaked out about this?

“You’re not going to do that,” Mika stated simply, as if he expected Steve to agree.  

“Excuse me?” Steve shot back.

“You heard me, you’re not going to do that,” Mika repeated.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I? You both signed contracts and knew what would happen if you broke them,” Steve replied.

“You won’t because I’ve been speaking to a lot of my teammates,” Mika began, “and a lot them are pretty sick of you people trying to control our lives. If you try to push these consequences on me and y/n I’m telling every news outlet that will listen the shit you pull and all my teammates who have gone through this are going to do the same. Who knows what shit will come out after that. All of the company’s dirty laundry is going to be aired for the world to see, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Steve grew more enraged with every passing word Mika spoke. You, on the other hand, stared at him in awe. If you thought you loved him before, you really did now.

“I’m going to call management,” Steve said through gritted teeth, dialing on his phone as he walked out. Alice stayed, standing awkwardly in the corner. It was her office, yet she seemed out of place. You looked at Mika, who gave you a confident wink.

The door swung open again, Steve stomping through. “What will it be, Steve?” Mika asked with excessive cheer to piss him off.

“As long as the two of you agree to not expose this as a publicity stunt, you’re free to go,” He replied, annoyance clear in his voice. Steve didn’t seem like a man who took defeat lightly.

Mika looked at you to see if that was okay and you were more than fine with it. You were never planning on telling anyone anyway, so this was the perfect resolution.

“Perfect,” Mika replied, “So glad we could come to an understanding.” The two of you signed off a paper agreeing you wouldn’t disclose this was ever set up, but could remain in a relationship without any consequences. As you lifted the pen from the paper you felt a wave of relief wash over you.

Steve collected the papers in his brief case, angrily making a beeline for the door. “Wait,” Mika called after him. Steve paused in the doorway, reluctantly turning back to face Mika, “All the times you asked if me and y/n had sex, I lied. We fucked a lot. Have a nice day!”

“Mika,” you half gasped, half laughed as Steve stormed away. Mika was one of the kindest people you knew, but he could be an asshole when he needed to. In a weird way it was really hot. If weren’t so happy this whole mess was over, you probably would be a bit more embarrassed by his comment.

“So are we good here?” Mika asked, turning to Alice.

“I’d actually like to talk to y/n alone for a moment,” Alice replied. Her tone was even, not telling you how she felt. You were nervous that maybe she would get rid of you anyway. You had been lying to her after all…

You nodded to Mika to tell him you were okay with that, even though you weren’t sure you had much of a choice. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby, love,” Mika said, kissing you on the cheek. Once you were alone, you held your breath, praying that you weren’t about to be yelled at or fired.

“I just wanted to apologize for this mess,” Alice said, to your surprise, “These things never really go that far, I never expect it to get this crazy.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, “I didn’t really follow the rules so it wouldn’t have been your fault.”

“Still,” Alice said, “I didn’t really believe in those crazy punishments, but it was out of my hands. Mika’s management was pulling all the strings. I’m sorry if you felt like I was working against you.”

“Believe me Alice, I know how crazy they can be. I don’t blame you, I’m just glad this all worked out,” you told me.

“Me too,” she smiled, “Wouldn’t want to lose one of my best models.” After that, the two of you said goodbye and you rushed down to the lobby to see Mika. You practically jumped in his arms, feeling so incredibly free.

“I take it that went well?” He guessed.

“Yup, she just wanted to apologize,” you told him.

“So we are in the clear?”

“We are perfect,” you smiled, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Let’s go out then, celebrate our freedom,” Mika suggested.

“What do you wanna do? Kind of weird now that we can actually pick what we want to do,” you replied.

“I’ve got an idea, but it’s kinda lame,” Mika admitted shyly.

“Tell me babe, I love you lame ideas,” you coaxed.

“Well, in a way, this is kind of our first real date. So what if we go full circle and have it at the coffee shop we met at,” Mika said.

“You’re right that’s lame, but also incredibly cute,” you teased, “I’ll go, but under one condition.”

“What’t that?”

“You don’t act like an asshole like you did on our first fake date,” you said.

Mika chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

His lips found yours once more, before slipping his hand in yours and leading you towards the door. As you walked, you reflected on these last few weeks. They were a whirlwind to say the very least. You never expected things to play out like they did, but you couldn’t be happier with how things ended up. There were definitely some bumps along the road, but each one of them were worth it.

As you walked out the doors, you couldn’t help but feel on top of the world. The man that you had fallen head over heels for was finally yours. No strings attached. You were sure there would be more challenges ahead, but you weren’t scared. With Mika by your side, you could do anything. You couldn’t wait to take on the world with him.

[sailawaysweetsis]

The Great Mercury

John Deacon x Reader

Part Two

A/N: Well, here’s part two! Btw, this more of a John’s POV

Word Count: 1.7k

Hope you enjoy!

• • • •

All the band had one mission, help John find (Y/N). So they arranged everything they could in less than 24 hours to make a party and spread the word. Freddie made sure that the whole city knew of the splendid reunion he would be doing that day, at his house.

Freddie played a crucial part on calming John’s nerves down, the poor boy was a mess, and those nerves only grew when the party was starting. He encouraged John to head downstairs and greet people. Everyone looked fancy and eloquent, which made John feel underdressed in his white shirt and trousers. He made small talk with few people before hiding in a more secluded area. It had been a couple of hours since the party started, you should be here soon, right?

John started to grow impatient and lose hope that you would come. Of course you would go, why would you? It wasn’t exactly your environment, and it wasn’t his as well. Against the rest of his friends arguments to stay a little longer, John headed home, broken hearted.

The next day on the studio, the band tried to cheer him up, telling him that the party wasn’t a success mainly because it was made on such a short notice. If they did an even bigger party, and started planning it within days, that should definitely work. John reluctantly agreed, and so the cycle was repeated, and his heart was broken once more.

“C’mon John! Don’t give up! Maybe if we get an ice sculpture and fireworks she would come.” Tried to explain Freddie the day after the party had failed. The band was reunited on the studio, concerned for their bass player.

“Just forget it Fred. She’s not coming. I lost her again.” John sighed.

“I’ll tell you what. Let us do one more. Just one more. I’ve got this thing planned, and trust me, it has to work.”

John gave Freddie an annoyed look, but he saw that his friend’s intentions were true.

“What do you think Bri? Rog?” Asked John looking for more opinions.

“Well,” urged Brian, “Freddie explained to us his big idea and we believe it could work. Let us do this John. If it doesn’t work, we’ll let you be. Promise.”

John gave a weak smile. “Alright.”

“You won’t regret this.”

• • • •

“Alright, listen up everyone. We’ve got a special party to do for my great friend John and little time to do so, so no one can waste time on silly things. Understood?”

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement. Freddie had done multiple parties before, but none of them were as important as this one. The love life of his best friend has at stake! He had been bossing everybody around since the sun had risen. Ordering immense amounts of appetizers and gallons of champagne. This one had to be perfect, he couldn’t let John down one more time.

He had called Paul and asked him for help, despite the band’s whining against it. He may not be the best human being, but he certainly knew how to organize a party.

Brian was in charge of the decoration, which was under Freddie’s orders to be “classy and retro”. Brian knowing his friend had the perfect theme on mind, which also gave him a perfect excuse to bring one of his favorite books to live.

Paul had to invite every single living soul to the party and make sure that the whole wide world knew about it. While Roger had to supervise that all the food was edible and delicious.

And Freddie? Oh he had the most arduous job of them all. Fix John up.

“What’s wrong with the way I look, Fred? I don’t need help with my outfit, a white shirt and trousers should do the trick.” Muttered John while he and Freddie entered Freddie’s gigantic wardrobe.

“You see dear John, that’s the problem. If we were under different circumstances I would allow it. But you are about to encounter (Y/N) for the first time in years! A simple shirt and pants won’t do. Don’t you want to cause an impression?”

“Then what do you suggest?” John replied a tad skeptical, crossing his arms. He didn’t liked where this was heading.

“I’m glad you asked” Freddie open the closet’s door to reveal all kinds of shapes and colors of clothing. “We are going to turn you into a prince, my dear! Not that you aren’t but you do need a little help with the clothes.”

“Alright, but I’m not wearing anything to flamboyant.”

“Don’t worry, that job’s taken. There’s only one person in this world that can be flamboyant, and that’s Freddie Mercury.”

Freddie sat John down in his settee and start throwing clothes here and there. He kept muttering to himself about God knows what while John sat wondering why in all heavens he agreed to this. Yes, Freddie was his best friend but he could be a little over the top at times. He pulled a white tuxedo.

“Aha! This is perfect. It’s classy, modern, stands out - but not in a look-at-that-clown stand out. Try it.”

John went into the bathroom and put on the expensive suit. He admired his reflection, he really looked good. The tuxedo brought out his best features.

“Come out darling! I want to see you.” Shouted Freddie outside the bathroom.

John opened the door and gave a little turn for his friend.

“What do you think Freddie?”

Freddie applauded John. “Lovely, I feel like a proud parent. Now the only thing missing is your hair.” He directed him to his dressing table and pushed John to the chair.

“No, no, no. My hair is perfectly fine as it is, thank you Freddie.”

“Oh c’mon! Don’t be like Brian. Besides, your hair only needs a little grooming. Is fine just as it is.” Freddie explain a terrified John, “Now, sit back, relax, close your eyes, and let me do my magic.”

John did exactly that. After some accidental hair pulling and breaking a comb, John was finally ready. He was excited to see the final result, even if Freddie had a unique taste, he trusted his best friend capable hands to make him look amazing.

When he fluttered his eyes open, he instantly knew that he was going to catch your attention.

By the time the sun was going down, everything was all set and the first guests started to arrive. Freddie’s house looked straight out of the 20’s.

John didn’t wanted to go through this hell again. So he had a couple of drinks, to arm himself with bravery. He danced with everyone around him, not knowing if you were already there, but he didn’t cared. He just wanted to go through the night as fast as he could so he could tell them I told you so.

You heard about “The Great Mercury’s Party” through your friend. She insisted that the both of you should attend the party, since the theme was the roaring 20’, a decade you loved, and it was also a dress up party, you loved to do so.

Although you were reluctant, you had no idea if John would be there., but you really wanted to see him one more time. So you agreed to go, under the condition that your friend wouldn’t get too wasted.

You two spend the rest of the evening looking for the perfect flapper dress, which you found after a while. It was a silver one, which you adorned with pearls and a white flower on your curly hair. You were both good to go so you went to Freddie’s house. How did your friend knew his address? No idea. Apparently everyone but you did because when you arrived it was a full house.

You walked through those marble floors and straight out of a movie, everyone left a trail for you to follow towards John. You two locked eyes and gave each other a smile. You trotted to him and trotted to you, meeting him halfway.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” John whispered with a smile plastered on his face, “You look gorgeous in that dress, I mean is not like you never looks gorgeous but that dress makes it better.”

“Thank you.”

“Want to take a seat?”

Both of you sat on Freddie’s white settee. God, how much you had missed John.You forgot how when John smiled little wrinkles formed in the corner of his eyes, and how big his smile was. The way his chocolate eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved and the way his voice went up and and down when he got excited.

God, how much John had missed you. He forgot how when you laughed it was the sweetest sound he ever heard and you did it like no one was around. The way you unconsciously reached out for his hand when you talked about doing something with him.

You two caught up with all that you had missed on each others lives after you parted your ways. The room was filled with joyful laughter coming from both parties, thankful to finally be reunited with the other. None of you realized that that many of the guests had already left.

“So, um… guess we’re one of the few left.” John chuckled, making your belly twist.

“Yeah… I should head home”

“Of course.” John shyly looked at you. “Would you- no forget it”

“Would I what?”

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

“John, tell me”

“I was wondering if… if you would… if we would…” he sighed, “ If I would see me again sometime? Here in Freddie’s house because his house is way better than mine. He has better taste.”

“Of course. Don’t doubt it.” You said as you approached him and gave John a kiss on the cheek, “See you later John”

“See- see you” John watched your figure fade away with an enamoured smile.

“Well, well, I think we accomplished our mission didn’t we?” Freddie starled John. “Did you asked for her number?”

“Yeah, I did”

“And? You’re gonna call her?”

“Definitely. By the way, I’m gonna need to borrow your house.”

“Of course darling! But may I ask why?”

“Because I want to show (Y/N) around here.”

“Aww, little Deaky is happy again.”

[acockius]

dancing on my own.

hello, lovelies! i was really in my feelings yesterday, and this piece kind of just flowed out of me. i’ve never written for rog but really admire all of the lovely people on this site who do. this is purely self-indulgent, so sorry if it’s awful. it also helps to listen to Dancing on My Own by Calum Scott to get you into the feels. 

roger taylor x reader ; 2,052 words ; straight up angst and sadness, swearing, semi-smut 

You fought the cold night air as you took your last few steps towards the door of the pub you worked at. A cigarette dangled from your lips and you stole a long drag from it before stomping it out on the concrete. With all of the bullshit life had been throwing at you as of late, you were actually looking forward to work for a change.

Your coworker, Marcy, emerged from the bar, her arms slung over her chest and hands grasping her elbows to remain warm.

“What, are you crazy?” You started, running your hands down her bare arms. “It’s feckin’ freezing out here, babe. Get inside!”

“I tried to catch you on the telly before you left your flat, but I missed you.” Marcy cut you off. “Ed’s giving you the night off.”

“Don’t be daft. He knows I need the money. You know I need the money…” You narrowed your eyes at your coworker and confidante. “Marc-“

“He’s got a new girl…” Marcy broke the news to you in a sympathetic tone.

If your body wasn’t already tingling from the cold temperature, the news of that made you lose all feeling and sense of self. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did - because you already knew your ex boyfriend better than most.

“‘Course he does… He’s Roger Taylor, after all.” You reminded with a shrug. “Just ‘cause he settled down with me for a couple’a months doesn’t mean that he’s lost his old ways.”

The break up was as amicable as it could’ve been. You weren’t seeing eye-to-eye, and there was no love between the two of you anymore. You’d suspected he wasn’t being loyal, and he was fed up with your accusations. You decided that you’d rather cut ties with him now and give him the benefit of the doubt than catch him in the act that you’d never be able to forgive him for. He didn’t fight to keep you as his, which was all the confirmation you needed to know that the decision was probably for the best. 

You’d met Roger at the pub you worked at. You were a waitress there and he was a drummer for one of the bands who played there quite often. From the first time he’d laid eyes on you, he was determined to make you his. Even if it meant winks while a groupie whispered in his ear or a lustful gaze as you brought him a drink before Smile’s set. He’d spent weeks dazzling you before the two of you finally wound up locked in the women’s bathroom during last call.

“I’m not letting you put yourself through this.” Marcy said with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m giving you my tips from the shift and you’re taking the night off.”

“I’m a big girl.” You were slightly offended that she could think otherwise. “I broke up with him, remember?”

After becoming comfortable with each other, you began to catch him exchanging looks with other girls, much the way he did you when you first met. You’d addressed it, and he blamed it on maintaining the rockstar image. You stopped buying that once you caught his hands skim way too low on a fan’s bum one night. She drunkenly pecked the corner of his mouth and he didn’t stop her - even after he realized you were watching.

“S’all part of the game, love. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Guess I don’t mean anything either.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt….” Marcy’s tone was so sympathetic that it irked you.

“I’m not his to hurt. Not anymore.” You kissed her temple and pushed past her, fighting your way into the pub.

It was packed, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for a Thursday night. Smile was currently performing, and you fought your way behind the bar, removing your leather jacket and scarf. Ed watched you tie an apron around your waist and furrowed his brow.

“Reporting for duty, fearless leader.” You crooned over the crowd, hand over your brow to salute. Ed just grumbled and shook his head. He was a man of few words to begin with.

You’d worked your way out from behind the bar and into the crowd, tending to patrons and collecting dirty glassware. You walked past a booth at the back of the bar and upon realization of who you’d just sauntered passed, your heart sank. It was the usual spot where the girlfriends of the band sat. You just didn’t expect to find someone fill your place so quickly.

She sat sandwiched between Veronica and Mary, with bright eyes as she watched the performance. She was beautiful - stunning, in fact. You’d realized you’d stared too long after Mary had offered a sympathetic smile.

You just quickly looked away and fought to fill your drink orders in a timely manner. You felt a squeeze to your shoulder and a kiss to your hair as Marcy walked past you with a full tray. She’d shagged the band’s lead guitarist but didn’t toy with the idea of doing anything but. Thankfully for her, Brian May was ever the gentleman and never made things awkward for her.

There was a different dynamic between your relationship with Roger and Marcy’s with Brian. You loved Roger, and the four of you knew that. This was just the price you’d have to pay for being so naive. You knew Roger was a playboy, but you fell for him anyway. Marcy and Brian were both two level-headed individuals who didn’t let their past get in the way of existing in the same space. You hoped to be able to reach that point with Roger some day.

You cursed under your breath when Smile’s set ended, the realization that you’d probably have to wrap up the night as the band lingered for the remainder of the evening. The reason why your friend was trying to send you home became more and more apparent as the night unfolded.

The music that replaced the band was lively and the crowd was loving it. It kept most folks there. They kept drinking, and kept tipping, so you kept on working. You’d willingly accept anything to distract yourself from the discomfort your were experiencing.

Your first cringey encounter of the night with a member of Smile was when you’d had to squeeze past Freddie, balancing a full tray of drinks in your hands.

“Looking beautiful as always, love.” He shouted over the music.

The compliment was laced with such pity that it made your stomach churn. Having to distance yourself from the entire band was hard on you because you cared for all of them. You and Freddie were the closest and cutting yourself off from that friendship hurt nearly as much as losing Roger did.

“Thanks, Fred!” You yelled back and kept walking.

You dealt out your tray and returned to the bar with full stacks of glasses to wash. You’d developed quite the talent for finishing this task with ease. However, you hadn’t realized that Brian had appeared in front of you, trying to get your attention with a warm smile.

When you finally caught onto the presence in front of you, you smiled apologetically and slung the bar rag over your shoulder.

“Sorry about that. You know how I get once I get onto a task. What can I do you for?”

“Not to worry,” Brian started. “Hate to bother you, but we’ve done our best to flag Marcy down for a round but she’s swamped at the moment.”

You looked at the spot behind Brian’s shoulder, where the view of their table was visible. The three couples sat in the booth, each preoccupied with something different. But you couldn’t keep your eyes off of your old flame and his one.

His grin lit up the very dark room, his new girl tucked pleasantly against his side. Her mouth peppered kisses against Roger’s jaw and his thumb caressed her cheek. Your own skin felt hot as the feeling of his calloused thumb teased your memory.

You forced a smile and shook your head.

“Never a bother, Bri.” You stated as you began to prep fresh glasses for the table. “The usual?”

Brian nodded, gripping the lip of the bar before speaking up.

“Plus, a lager - for…” Brian started, trying to finish the sentence diplomatically.

“A lager for the lady. And the usual. Coming right up!” You pat Brian’s hand and then shooed him away.

“Thanks. See you in a bit!” Brian lingered, trying to find the words he wanted to follow up with before surrendering and heading back to his table.

You could make the group’s drink order in your sleep by now. Still, you found your hands shaking as you poured their cocktails this time around. A gentle hand came to your wrist and you were met with your coworker’s smile.

“I’ve got it, hon. If you wanna go collect more glasses…” She lovingly caressed your wrist and you waved your hand dismissively.

“Thanks, Crys… But I’ve got this.” You countered in your most convincing tone.

Crystal nodded and begrudgingly left your side as you began to stack the drinks of your tray. You were thankful that your coworkers had banned together to get you through this shitty situation. They’d watched your romance with Roger spark, ignite, and then detonate before their eyes. They were cordial because they had to be, but they were defensive and protective of your feelings otherwise.

The world seemingly slowed as you made your way to Smile’s resident table with their drinks. There were seven occupants at the booth but only five gave you their attention as you approached.

“Hello, lovely!” Mary offered as you dropped her drink on a coaster in front of her. “I love your earrings.”

“Thanks.” You nodded as you continued to pass out the drinks, offering smiles to Deaky and Veronica.

You pretended that you didn’t see one of Roger’s hands hidden under the skirt of his new girlfriend as you placed their drinks of in front of them. Their lips were dancing against each other’s, too busy to thank you for just doing your job.

You almost scoffed when a stack of bills fell upon your tray, waking you from your daze. You placed it back down on the table and narrowed your eyes at Brian.

“No…” You scolded with the point of a finger. “Never.”

Brian sighed and then nodded as he took back the money. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy, folks!” You offered with an awkward wave, before quickly disappearing from their table.

Marcy was on your heels almost immediately, lips near your ear.

“What the actual feckin’ hell?” she asked in a whisper.

“They couldn’t get your attention. So, Brian came to me and ordered for them.” You shrugged, fighting back tears.

“A lager? And you paid for it?” Marcy nearly gagged. “Who orders a -“

“Me! I used to. When I was her.” You replied. “Because I never really drank it anyway. Was too busy getting fingered under the table, honestly.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t -“ Marcy stammered.

“I need a cigarette.” You mumbled and pushed your tray into her hands.

You weaved your way through the crowd and snuck out the back entrance, pulling the pack from your waistband and lighting a cigarette immediately. The long initial inhale that you took wasn’t enough to calm your nerves, and you were unfazed by the cold air that danced around your bare arms and legs.

You were startled when the back door jolted open and Roger and his lover shuffled past you. They climbed into the back of the band’s van with a series of giggles and slammed it shut behind them. The loud sound triggered your tears, after working so hard to hold them back all night.

Roger didn’t owe you anything at this point. You were broken up, and everything you had was in the past. However, you hadn’t expected to be completely ignored by him the entire night. It was like you weren’t even there.

Was it always like this for him? When you were with him, did the rest of the world melt away and was the only thing that existed for him you? You’d never know.

[deaksandgeeks]

Later That Night

(John Deacon x F!Reader)

3385 words, 18+ (I’m serious). John and Reader meet out at a bar one night with friends, but don’t go home together. He can’t stop thinking about her and the next best thing happens. 

A/N: Only really got into the Queen fandom in a big way in the last little bit. I also haven’t written anything in a really long time (like, years) and I am terrified to post this, but am doing it anyway, because follow your dreams, amirite? Also, there’s a bit of a buildup to the sexy bits ‘cause I like to set the stage. I am a dramatic bitch.

Warnings: SMUT, solo stuff, probably some cursing because it is impossible for me to go more than ten minutes without swearing, even in my writing. 

Touring in the United States for the first time was exciting in the beginning. It was new territory and being popular internationally was something that they had wanted for the band for a long time, especially in a market as large as America. The only problem being, they were away from their lives at home and missed small comforts. John was getting especially restless.

Roger seemed to be handling it the best, clearly trying to make the most of his time abroad. In an effort to cheer the others up, he suggested they head out of the hotel and try to enjoy the city they were staying in. Freddie liked the suggestion, but John and Brian didn’t exactly want to go out and get into trouble. The tour left them with an extra night in Connecticut, of all places, and Roger thought it would be a good chance to “scout the local talent.” They knew he was mostly joking but agreed it would be nice to be able to take a night to blow off some steam.

The place they ended up wasn’t anything special, but it was decently full. It was some tavern within walking distance of the hotel. The main appeal of it was that it didn’t seem too pretentious. They found a round booth near the back that was empty, and Brian and John scooted in to sit down. The four of them removed their jackets and lazily tossed them down on the extra bench space, of which there was plenty. The table was clearly made to accommodate eight or so people. Roger and Freddie tossed their jackets on top of Brian’s and headed to the bar to grab drinks for the table. While they were gone, one of the waitresses walked over.

“Did you guys need drinks?” The phrasing was curt, but her tone was polite. She was cute.

“No thank you, love. Our friends are just up at the bar.” Brian gestured to Roger and Freddie, but it was a second before she turned around to look. Her eyes sparkled when Brian spoke.

“I like your accent.” She smiled and cocked her head, but Brian just laughed gently.

“Thank you.” He dipped his head a little, hoping not to take this any further. “We appreciate the service, love. We’ll find you the next time we need anything.”

She recognized she was being dismissed, however politely, and turned to John to give him a once over. She quickly turned back to Brian. Clearly, she had a preference.

“My name’s Susan, if you need anything.” She brushed her long dark hair over her shoulder before walking away to tend to another table, order pad in hand.

Freddie and Roger returned carrying four beers, and Roger holding a tray of shots. A man on a mission, apparently.

“I thought about getting the bottle, but we’ll see where the night takes us,” Roger professed as he put the tray down and slid it in closer to Brian and John, spilling Crown Royal onto the plastic platter. At least he didn’t get any on the table, which was already a little sticky.

Roger raised his bottle to toast and the other three did the same. “Cheers, boys!” They each took a pull before Freddie sat down and Roger turned to the room. He leaned on the elevated table with his elbow, surveying the other patrons.

The first round was taken down mostly in silence. Everyone was tired and still sober, so they hadn’t much to say, yet. Roger doled out four of the eight shots from the tray to get everyone to loosen up. Freddie was a good sport, but Brian and John already seemed to be ready to call it a night. Roger caught John’s eye roll while they took their shots, and when the bassist went to chase the whisky with a sip of his beer, Roger reached across the table and playfully lifted the bottom of his bottle. John chuckled a bit and took a bigger gulp. Roger seemed satisfied.

Freddie scooted out of the booth and crossed the floor to the jukebox, to see if anything tickled his fancy. On his way he caught the eye of a young lady, who appeared to be focused on his skin-tight jeans, but managed to make eye contact when she greeted him.

“Oh, Freddie’s got one.” Roger nodded over in his bandmate’s direction, as if Brian and John hadn’t seen the whole thing. He gave a whistle. “Great legs. Wonder how long it takes her to figure it out.”

They watched the tall girl nod enthusiastically at whatever Freddie was saying, before smiling broadly. She was clearly gushing over him. He leaned in and gave her a hug and she looked as if she would faint.

“Must be a fan,” Brian suggested. “Don’t bring her over here, Fred.”

They all watched as he motioned over to their table.

“Why not?” Roger contested.

They observed the girl nod and point to the table she’d been sitting at, where another young lady was stationed, eyes fixed on the encounter and eagerly waiting for her to return. The leggy brunette hurried back to where she had been sitting and grabbed her coat off the back of her chair, while she picked up her pint and explained the situation to her friend. The other one gathered her coat and drink, too, as well as a third drink on their table. They patiently waited for Freddie to select a song, then walk past their table to collect them and bring them over to his own.

Brian sighed as he watched the three of them approach. John smirked at Roger, who smiled at the girls in a very welcoming manner.

“Look what I found!”

“Hello, ladies.” Roger opened his arms and slid one around the shorter girl’s shoulders.

She looked up at him as if the sun rose and set in him. Brian and John each nodded politely at their new guests.

“These young ladies are…”

“Cassie,” the tall one offered quickly.

“Natasha.”

“Yes, so, Cassie, Natasha and… there’s a third one, yes?” Freddie looked to them for confirmation, and they both nodded but neglected to give their friends’ name. “These three young ladies drove down from Canada to see our performance last night.” He motioned proudly to the two of them. The band had only started to gain traction in America. It was actually quite flattering that they’d found fans with such dedication.

Just as Freddie was about to invite them to sit down, John, who had been watching their now empty table, began laughing. Everyone turned to see what had amused him. Standing a few tables away in the middle of the room was a very confused looking young woman, scanning her surroundings, most likely for her friends, coat, and purse, all of which had gone missing. She looked comically lost. Cassie waved an arm in the air to catch her attention.

“(Y/N)!”

Her head whipped around, and she started to approach her friends quickly.  Her expression was slightly confused, until the situation dawned on her and she stopped in her tracks. She stood in place for a split-second, before continuing as if nothing happened. Everyone had seen her reaction but tried to hide their laughter to be polite.

Introductions were exchanged and the girls were offered seats in the ample booth as Brian and John tucked their jackets over the back of the bench. (Y/N) slid in without hesitation, securing a spot next to John. Cassie next to her, before Freddie sat against the edge. Natasha picked the seat next to Brian, but kept her eyes on Roger, who remained standing.

The girls explained how they’d made it down from their hometown. One of them had a cousin in the city, who bought their tickets as a lure to get them to come visit. Something about growing up together, lifelong friends, the usual. Apparently, their American host had an overnight shift at the hospital, and wasn’t present that evening, but they assured the band that all four of them had enjoyed the show immensely.

The waitress, Susan, came by again, and gave Natasha a disapproving glance, clearly not realizing that she just happened to be sitting next to Brian, not that she had any real interest in him. She took an order for another round. Roger also made sure to order three more shots, so as not to exclude the young ladies, after which the conversation started to pick up. The girls seemed nervous at first, but the alcohol helped, and Freddie was so welcoming that they quickly loosened up and became less star-struck.

It was becoming fairly clear that Natasha was fixing to end the evening with Roger, and he seemed to be all for that. Cassie watched Freddie with the utmost admiration but didn’t seem to have designs on him. (Y/N) was clearly trying to play it cool, but kept crossing and un-crossing her legs, not-so-accidentally brushing up against John under the table in the process. He’d admit he liked the attention, but it wasn’t what he was looking for tonight. She smelled fantastic, though.

After a few more drinks, a handful more attempts by the waitress to flirt with Brian, and an invitation lacking a modicum of subtlety from Roger for the girls to head back to the hotel, John was ready to call it an evening. (Y/N) was leaning against his shoulder and her body heat was becoming more inviting by the minute. He really didn’t want to be making any irresponsible decisions and was honestly looking forward to a night where he could squeeze in a couple extra hours of sleep.

She’d clearly been very interested in him from the moment they met, and John hated to let such an attractive young woman feel as though she wasn’t appreciated. John indulged (Y/N) a little by putting his hand on her knee and leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I think it’s time I left.”

Her head snapped around to look him in the eye, her lips parted and eyes blazing. He laughed at himself, immediately realizing his (mostly unintentional) mistake. He leaned in close to her one more time.

“It was lovely meeting you. Would you be so kind?” He motioned for her to slide out of the booth, allowing him to leave. She closed her mouth and her expression changed to one of disappointment, but she nodded obligingly, before giving him a rueful smile.

She gave a gentle nudge to Cassie who was lost in conversation with Freddie, but they both picked up on the signal immediately. Everyone shuffled out of the one side of the booth, and John slid out behind them. They were all pooled at the end of the table, and John brushed up against (Y/N)’s backside as he stood up, trying to squeeze by everyone. He tensed when her back arched instinctively, feeling that he was already semi-hard from how close they’d been sitting all night. He gently placed a hand on her waist as he pulled away from her, and they both let out a slow breath.

Roger tried to convince his band mate to stay, but John knew he had to get going before things heated up any further. He made sure to thank the girls for making the trip to see their show and wished a warm goodbye to everyone at the table. As Brian passed his jacket over their drinks, John grazed the tips of his fingers against (Y/N)’s arm, before sliding them to her elbow and locking eyes with her one last time.

He walked to the door, pulling his jacket on, and headed back to the hotel.

When he arrived in his room, which he shared with Brian, he was glad to have some time to himself. He tossed his jacket on the end of his bed, closest to the door. They had a couple beers sitting on the desk in the room, and he cracked one open. He took a sip and looked around the room, thinking he might still be too wired to fall asleep. Part of him regretted leaving the bar early, but he knew it was the right decision. Still.

The idea that she was so willing wasn’t what excited him. It was just her. She was magnetic, in a way, and while he knew it would have been too dangerous, an ever-growing part of him wished he had stayed, just to soak in a little more of her. He was quite certainly attracted to her, and the clear evidence presented that she felt the same was nearly overwhelming. It was too easy to tease her. He was sure that she was aware of just how much he had enjoyed doing it, too.

He set his beer on the table and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

It had been a while since he’d had enough privacy to jerk off properly. Always having to quietly rush while in the shower, or awkwardly keep silent in his bunk on the bus. Typically, it would discourage him altogether, and he found himself getting cranky the longer they were on tour. He decided to make the most of his time alone tonight.

The mirror came all the way down to the sink and he could see his reflection down to his thighs. He regarded himself while leaning one arm on the counter, before sliding his hand along the waist of his jeans, unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down. Reaching in, he began to stroke himself steadily, still half-ready from earlier in the evening, while gently sliding his jeans down his hips a little. He pulled his cock out over the sink and looked down at himself in his hand. Not bad.

He began slowly, gently. He closed his eyes and inhaled, thinking about the girl from the bar. She was such a good-looking thing. Sharp, too. He thought about a few of the jokes she’d made. The way her eyes flickered with mischief when she knew she’d made him laugh. He thought about the moment she’d lost her earring and had to slide under the table to retrieve it, surprisingly gracefully. He imagined her giving him that mischievous look from under the table, looking up at him with hollow cheeks and her plump lips wrapped around his cock.

He started to stroke himself faster.

He thought about pressing up against her when he left. How her plush ass felt against him, as he was already starting to get excited from her physical flirtations. He started breathing heavier. He thought about the way her back had arched at the contact. He had already known she wanted to fuck him at that point, but that had been too much. He thought about how badly he had wanted to grab her, right then and there, pulling her up against him until he was smothered in her soft ass.

He imagined her arching her back for him now, presenting for him as he pushed her up against the edge of the counter. He imagined running his hands along her smooth skin, up under her skirt, only to find she wasn’t wearing any panties. He imagined how he’d glide his hands over her waist and up her chest, aggressively pulling her blouse open, and the ticking sounds of buttons clattering over the counter and tile floor, before taking handfuls of her firm breasts.

He could almost hear her mewling and sighing as he slipped inside her, and could practically feel how wet she’d be, dying for his cock. He imagined grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back to him as he’d thrust into her, burying his face in her neck. He remembered how good she smelled.

John bit his lip and watched his own reflection with half-lidded eyes for a moment, before returning to his reverie. He already knew how much she’d love the way he’d fuck her. How she’d call his name, and her gentle feminine moans as she succumbed to pleasure. The sound of their skin slapping together as he bumped up against her ass and the backs of her thighs. The feeling of her juices making a mess all over the two of them.

He was leaning forward now, feeling close as he pumped his fist faster. He looked at the tiny bottles on the counter, grabbing for shampoo, Vaseline, anything. He nabbed the closest one.

Aftershave? Not that.

The next bottle he snatched was lotion and he poured a generous dollop into his hand before wrapping his hand around his shaft again. He let out a low moan, knowing no one could hear him and that he could make as much noise as he wanted. His breathing quickened as he pictured (Y/N) undone and cursing, dying for release. Her hair a mess in his hand, eyes closed and mouth open. How the reflection of her tits bouncing would look in the mirror, as he pushed into her, over and over. Her hands would be clutching the edge of the counter as her hips bucked back into him, matching his rhythm, taking all of him in and adoring him.

He imagined her crying his name one final time, and the feeling of her tightening and flexing around him as she came on his cock, loving having every inch of him buried inside of her.  

He remembered the look of pure lust in her eyes when she thought he was taking her home. The thought occurred to him that (Y/N) would no doubt be in a similar state tonight, indulging in an almost identical fantasy to his. He quickened the pace of his hand until it was nearly frantic.

He could hear her voice, tauntingly innocent. “Should I stop? Am I being bad?”

The image of her touching herself while thinking of him drove John over the edge. Eyes closed, he leaned his head back. With a soft, almost inaudible whimper he came hard, spurting come all over the sink, tap and mirror in waves.

Spent and suddenly exhausted, he took a moment to lean with both hands on the counter, breathing heavily. He cleaned the sink off and refastened his jeans before walking back into the room to grab his beer. He guzzled half of it in one go, then went back into the bathroom and started the shower, just as he heard Brian return.

Brian looked tired as he shut the heavy hotel door behind him as quietly as he could and greeted John with a small wave. The two of them briefly chatted about how the rest of the evening had gone at the bar, Brian not noticing how flushed John was. Nothing too crazy happened after John had left, but everyone had left Roger there with Natasha. The other girls had gone back to where they’d been staying nearby, and Freddie was currently in his room where Brian had dropped him off.

“Do you mind if I get in there before you?” Brian pointed to the washroom. John nodded to him absentmindedly as he picked at the label on the bottle that was still in his hand. He wondered how long the girls had been home and speculated how long (Y/N) would hold out before thinking about him properly. He was vaguely aware of the sound of the tap running and tooth-brushing, while his mind wandered.

He hadn’t even noticed the washroom was free again, until Brian started to change out of his clothes to crawl into his bed on the far side of the room. By now the shower had heated up and steam filled the room, fogging the mirror. John distractedly wished Brian a goodnight as he shut the door. He quickly pulled his clothes off, before stepping into the current and relaxing in the hot water.

As he stood for a moment, feeling the droplets hit his skin, his mind drifted back to (Y/N). Was she thinking about him right now? Maybe she’d already finished. She’d clearly been very eager earlier, it probably wouldn’t take her very long to get off. She could already be on her second round by now.

His cock twitched a little.

He wondered what she’d look like here with him, naked and surrounded by a haze of steam, hair soaked and skin slick with warm running water.

Hm. Something to think about.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The boys meet Jack; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all, I would like to thank you all for reading this series once again and taking interest in it both old and new followers/readers. And thank you for all the patience and cliffhanger I left you all on the last chapter :) Now the long wait is finally over, here we see Jack being introduced to the boys and things will get a little intense at some parts. Also I imagined this in the last chapter so I’m gonna link a song up and I hope you all will listen to it and just imagine just the first half of the song during the beginning part of the story and when you the reader take Jack into the studio to meet the boys.

Now warnings are very minimum, just swearing but overall TOOTH ROTTING FREAKIN FLUFF :) 

Taglist *open*:

@onebigfangirlworld

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@mr-badguymercury

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@5sos-wdw

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

_________________________________________________________

Once we arrived at his place, he bid me a goodnight and thanked me for allowing him to see the studio and having a first look at my upcoming music video.  I smiled and told him it was no problem before bidding him a goodnight.

Finally after a seriously long day, I finally reached home sweet home.  I opened my door and let out a yawn ready to hit the sack.

Play video

“You’ve got some serious explaining to do young lady.” I froze in shock.  Oh shit it can’t be them.  As I turned around there they all stood at the entry way between my front corridor and the living room.  Each of them with their arms crossed over their chests staring me down.

Looks like my long night is about to get even longer.

“Boys. Hey, I—I thought you all weren’t getting back till tomorrow. When-when-when did you get back?”

“Through Concorde airlines that get you to your destination in half the time. And it was right after we found out about this,” it was then Freddie took out another gossip magazine of Jack and I enlarged on the front cover with the title.

ROCK ANGEL WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE MAN. POTENTIAL ROMANCE?

“So start talking. Who is he? How old is he? Where exactly does he live and where can I find him so I can kick his arse?” Roger hounded me with all the questions.

“Whoa Rog, you are not going to kick his arse. He hasn’t done anything to deserve it.”

“Actually he has, and that’s talking to you.” He reasoned.

“And since when did I need your permission to talk to boys?!” I snapped getting a little irritated by his possessive attitude.

“Roger cool it!” Brian snapped as he pressed a hand against Roger’s chest to stop him from coming up towards me.

“Guys can’t we discuss this in the morning? I have had a long day of interviews and music video shooting, I need to sleep and I really don’t want to say what I may regret later.”

“Nope. We’re going to discuss this now. If you can spend hours recording songs with us then you can handle a few questions.” John sassed.  I growled out a groan before saying.

“Alright fine!” I stomped towards my living room and sat down on my favorite lounge chair, opening up my jacket and turning towards the guys as I said in a firm tone. “Sit.” They then went to my couch opposite of my chair that was separated by the table in front of me.  All four of them were able to fit the couch entirely with Deacy and Brian taking the ends of the couch while Freddie sat beside Deacy and Roger between Fred and Bri.

Soon I began to explain the whole story to them.

“His name’s Jack. He’s an American just coming to visit London and see the sights for the summer. Studied music like me for college and graduated about two years ago, and he stopped Duke from harassing me.”

“Wait, wait, that loser’s back to stalking you. I thought we got him fired?” asked Brian.

“Apparently not. He ambushed me when I went out to a club for a break. But Jack saw what was happening and called him old man which made him back off. So I thanked him with coffee for helping me out but I guess that’s when Dukey boy there snapped the first picture of us together at the café.”

“And you’re sure he’s not just getting close to you just to shag you?” asked Freddie.

“Freddie! What the hell!?”

“He’s got a point. Remember Daniel? Jackson? And that one other boy uhh…..” Roger began but Deacy finished for him.

“Nathaniel.”

“Thank you Deacy.” Roger thanked.

“God this is even worse than when you guys interrogated me about Adam.” I groaned as I rubbed my face with my hands tiredly. “Look guys, he even knew who I was the minute I went into that club but he didn’t approach me at all until Duke ambushed me with the camera. Doesn’t that at least count as something?” They all looked at each other and quietly whispered to each other. “And he loves the same music we do. Zeppelin, Bowie, my music but out of all of them he loves you guys the best for your creativity process. And he even looks up to one of you guys.”

“And just who pray tell would that member of Queen be?” asked Freddie almost thinking it would be him.

“Deacy.” I stated bluntly as I pointed to him.  At that statement, Deacy actually looked at me in shock, as did the other guys.

“You’re lying.” Deacy said.

“No I am not. He told me that you were the reason he picked up a bass guitar in the first place after hearing your solo for Liar. Now every time he plays that song, he plays alongside it, imagining that he’s playing with his hero. Deacy you mean more to the fans than you give yourself credit for. Take this compliment and praise and never deny it again.”

“Okay so I’ll admit he has good taste in music so that’s one plus for him. Acknowledging Deacy gets another plus, and based on the picture you both do look good together so I tick that as a plus. The only thing missing is to finally meet the boy.” Freddie said.

“I’m sorry what now?”

“Bring him by the studio tomorrow when we record our duet album before the tour by the end of this summer. We want to meet him.”

“Freddie I can’t—you can’t just…..this is too sudden. We’re just friends honest!”

“We still demand to see him. Even if you say you’re not dating or even shagging each other as a friends with-benefits kind of thing.” At that remark, Freddie got a slapped over the head by Roger. Freddie cried out in pain as Roger said as he took a swig of beer.

“Don’t ever mix (y/n) and shagging again.” I looked at him unbelievably and shook my head at him and that’s when Brian said.

“In all seriousness (y/n), we would at least like to meet him. Just so this whole mess can be put aside. Because you know we’ll keep hounding you for a meeting, and you know just how resilient we are.” Oh boy do I.

Even when I was still an intern with Miami, all the times when the boys would beg of something or get me to join in and I’d refuse, they’d always get me to go along with it.  Whether it was always kneeling and pleading before me at my desk while I was trying to work, or there was that time when I was ambushed and trapped in a Queen puppy-dog eyed circle.  

Filled with puppy dog eyes, cute whimpers (mainly from Roger and a bit from Deacy) and puppy nuzzles with their noses touching all over my face.  God that was a brutal mess, but secretly I liked it.

“I’ll bring him to the studio tomorrow, but you guys need to arrive there first so that way I can break it to him gently about confronting you guys. And please, please, please, please, please guys. Don’t scare him off,” I mostly looked towards Roger as I said this and I continued, “You lot have to swear to me that you won’t scare him tomorrow. Swear it on your lives and the life of Queen.”

“We swear.” They chorused out as they each held their right hands out and crossed their hearts with their left index fingers.

“Good, now I am exhausted. It’s 1am and I need to sleep. Goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight love.” They chorused out again.  I walked upstairs to my room and finally got to turn in for the night.

I woke up to the rare sunlight that London gets with it shining through my curtains.  I stretched myself out and let out a yawn that according to Freddie reminded him of one of his cat’s.  And it was then I looked at the time to see that it was almost 11am.  I tiredly lifted myself up and that’s when I also took notice of a note right by my nightstand.

I reached over for the note and unfolded it and it was a letter from Deacy.  It read:

Dearest (y/n),

Last night we did come off as the Queen’s royal guard but you must know that when we heard about this, it came as quite a shock to us.  I know that we aren’t your family by blood but we all see you as a daughter (in my case a sister) to us.  And we just didn’t want to see you get hurt again after what Adam did to you. It broke us to see how he had treated you when you deserve the world, if not the universe (according to Brian).

If you don’t wish to come to the studio that’s fine. You and I can do a one on one meeting with Jack and I will make the decision for the band on whether he’s the chap for you.

At that point I rolled my eyes playfully as I kept reading on.

And I know you’re rolling your eyes right now missy so watch it. Anyways, I hope you will enjoy what’s waiting for you downstairs and hope that it can be a sign of forgiveness from us to you.

Your loving big brother,

Deacy 😊

I smiled at the last part of the letter and kissed it before holding it close to my heart.  I then set aside the letter and went downstairs to see just what he also meant by what was waiting for me and that I would enjoy.

As I turned into my kitchen there at the table was a delicious breakfast filled with my favorite breakfast meals and right in front of my tray was one of my vases filled with water and four yellow roses with a note tucked in front of it.  I walked up to it and took the note and it only said.

Forgive us?

I smiled softly and said to myself.

“Oh Deacy, you really are the sweetheart of Queen. How can I stay mad when he does stuff like this?” I then sat down and ate my breakfast which was surprisingly still warm.  Perhaps it was recently made in the last few minutes, who knows?  But I went ahead and ate up my breakfast then I cleaned up the area and decided to get ready for the day.

After showering, doing my hygiene stuff, and getting dressed I debated whether I wanted to call Jack and get this whole thing over with.  I thought about it for a good fifteen minutes before finally I picked up the phone and dialed the number.  I held the phone to my ear and it rang a good three times before I heard it being picked up.

“Hey Jack, it’s me. Listen, you’re not busy in the next little while are you?”

By 2pm Louis and I had picked Jack up and then by almost 3 we finally arrived at the studio.  I turned to Jack and I was finally gonna break it down to him that this wasn’t just going to be a normal studio visit.

“Jack there’s something you need to know before we go on inside.” I told him in a low voice.

“What is it? Is everything okay?”

“Well that depends,” I took a deep breath in before exhaling out and I continued, “Okay you know how in the news or the papers or wherever the hell they post it up or when I’ve said it. The Rock angel’s name and Queen are always clashed with each other’s?”

“Yeah, I know all about how you’ve toured with them. You sometimes collaborate with each other on songs or albums. Like your recent album that came out earlier this year. Which I thought was amazing by the way.”

“Thanks Jack, but there’s more to the story than that. Remember how I told you I was an intern for a big record manager before I became the Rock Angel?” He nodded and I kept going on, “Well, that manager was Jim Beach. The current manager of Queen. And from day one the boys of Queen…..they’re my family. They’ve become like my four fathers or brothers at times, they’ve helped me become a better musician. And by being my family that also means, our relationship is close. I mean really, really, really close. Which in turn means they are like four aggressive guard dogs when it comes to boys who try to come near me.” His face was slowly starting to show signs of fear. “Well they were doing a show in Japan when last night they…..they came to my house and heard about the rumors that have been going around between us. And so……the real reason why I brought you here to the studio, is because…..they want to meet you.” I swear to you it looked like Jack was ready to shit himself.

“You—you mean that they…..”

“Please I know I’m asking a lot, hell I almost didn’t want to do this but I knew they’d keep on persisting and they do a hell of a job at that, especially with the puppy dog huddle but we don’t have to do this. I can have Louis take you back home and you never have to meet the guys and do this, and—” I rambled on frantically.  All the while Jack kept trying to get my attention until finally he grabbed me by the arms and called out my name.

“(Y/n)!” I stopped and just looked at Jack fearfully. He released my arms and he said.

“Sorry you were frantically rambling so hard that I almost couldn’t understand you. If this is what they want, then I would not want to get on Queen’s bad side.” I looked at him in shock.

“Okay are you sure you weren’t some former Rockstar that I don’t know about in America.” I asked which made him laugh. I then composed myself and I asked him, “You ready?” He exhaled a deep breath and said.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” We then exited the car and thanked Louis for driving us here and we then entered the studio.

Walking in the first person to greet us was Miami. He came up and he said.

“So this is the boy—”

“Please not now Miami, you will get your turn after the boys have a go at him.” I interrupted him.

“As a matter of fact I was just on my way to meet with the boys right now, as well as you. So knock two birds with one stone right?” I cringe at his explanation and I said as I turned to Jack.

“Jack this is my manager as well as Queen’s manager Jim Beach. He makes sure that the boys don’t kill each other during rehearsals and afterwards and makes sure that I still stay the same humble intern that he always knew and loved.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Beach.” Jack said as he extended his hand.  Miami eyed Jack up and down like a father would before finally taking Jack’s hand and shaking it.

“(Y/n) is like a daughter to me. Any funny business out of you then—”

“Okay moving on don’t want to be late! See you upstairs Miami bye!” I took Jack’s arm and quickly raced towards the lift and quickly pressed the button for the level of the rehearsal room and sighed in relief. “My god he’s even worse than usual.”

“Now this may not be the perfect question but, why do you call him Miami?”

“Freddie gave him that name when Queen was first rising to fame and glory. Once I became an intern after a couple of weeks, he allowed me to call him that after telling me that I was the best intern he’s ever had since I treated the boys like normal people instead of just obsessing over the floor they walk upon. That and I was the first young intern they’ve ever really gotten along with. Freddie knighted me by my first week the official ‘Queen’s younger audience taste’ just so that they wouldn’t be forgotten or be washed away by the current age of music that’s going on with either pop or what they call disco. Mainly by Rog and Brian.”

Soon the lift dinged and we arrived at the rehearsal studio level.  I guided Jack down the hall then we made a right until finally we walked through the double doors.  We now stood in the sound booth and through the mirror, there sat all around the various furniture or even the makeshift stage were my boys of Queen.

Freddie looking through the paper, Deacy sitting on the stage fiddling with his bass, Roger on the chair having his smoke break and Brian muttering out some chords that were probably going through his head and trying them out on his guitar.

“So this is Queen?” asked Jack.

“Yeah. Not a bad looking bunch if you don’t count Roger of course.” I never really liked his habit of smoking but hell he’s older than me he can do what he wants, I just told him to never smoke around me since I can’t stand the smell of it in the studio.  I turned towards Jack and I saw him physically tense up as I knew where his eyes were looking at now.

“Oh my god, is that—”

“Yep. That’s our Disco Deacy.” I said as I looked towards Deacy before turning back to Jack.  “You ready to meet him?” He was nervous I could tell, but he nodded and smiled widely. “Alright, you might wanna cover your ears first, trust me.” I butted in the last part.  

He did as I told him and I pressed a couple buttons which made the speakers make that ear-piercing high pitched feedback sound which in turn made the boys scream and cover their ears before turning around to face me.

“Hello boys.” I teased.

“What the fuck was that for (y/n)!?” snapped Roger.

“Consider it payback from last night interrogating me till 1 in the morning.” I teased.  That’s when Brian took notice of Jack.

“Is that Jack?” I turned to him and then faced back towards the guys and said.

“Yes…” suddenly before I could get another word in; Freddie, Brian and Roger all ran for the door.  I quickly raced towards it and closed it as best I could.  I could feel Roger and Brian trying to open it but I pushed back. “What the fuck you guys stop it!”

“No you let us in right now!” Roger cried out. I let out a powerful scream as I used all my strength to finally close the door and lock it.  “(Y/n) this isn’t funny. Open the door right now!” Roger said through the window of the door.

“No! If you guys want to meet Jack. We are gonna do it by my standards! So you three need to back up and let Deacy come meet him first.” Roger and I stared each other down and I said as I lowered my voice, “You know how resilient I can be Taylor. So if you lot don’t move, we’ll get nowhere. I can do this all day.”

We kept staring at each other waiting for the other to back down, but both of us are too stubborn (I got it from him) that neither of us were backing down.  It was then Freddie came up and touched Roger’s shoulder and he told me.

“We accept your demands darling.” Roger went to argue but Freddie shushed him and he and Brian had him back away from the door. I sighed heavily and turned to Jack and said to him.

“God I apologize immensely for this Jack, you must think I’m crazy or a freak or something.”

“No, no I just….find it sweet that the members of Queen would go to such lengths for you.”

“Hope they haven’t scared you off quite yet. Cause get ready that will come.” I gave him fair warning as I unlocked the door.

“I think what I’m more scared about is that I’m going to be standing in front of John Deacon. I mean what if I make a fool of myself? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Don’t worry you won’t, Roger makes a fool of himself all the time and Deacy still likes him.” I said as I opened the door and Jack and I now walked into the room.

“Watch it love.” Roger said as he doused out his cigarette.  Deacy set aside his bass and stood up from the stage and walked towards us.  Jack and I met him half way as I continued.

“Besides,” as we now stood before Deacy, I came up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him and he wrapped an arm around me as I finished, “Deacy’s my big brother.” Deacy looked down at me with a soft smile at that statement and I looked up at him. “Deacy, I’d like you to meet Jack Kline, Jack, this is John Deacon. Bass player of Queen.”

“So this is the mysterious boy who saved our angel from Duke’s persistent stalking.” Deacy held out his right hand for Jack to take.  I could tell Jack was star-struck being in front of Deacy like this, not only that but nerves of meeting one of the four boys who basically adopted me and is now playing the big brother figure that every boy fear’s.

“It’s okay Jack, he won’t bite.”

“Unless he feels like it” butted in Freddie. I glared at him but I quickly turned back around and saw Jack take Deacy’s hand and he said trying to find his voice.

“It’s a….great honor to meet you Mr. Deacon.”

“So (y/n) tells us that you’re a bass player.” He said as they released each other’s hands.

“Well I—”

“He is, actually he’s pretty good at it too. Although he’s never shown me his skills.” I said.

Yeah I know it sounds cruel to do this but hey what better way to get to John Deacon’s heart than through the strums of a good bassline, right? Unless Veronica was here but that’s a different story.

“I mean I’m mediocre at best but I wouldn’t say I’m good.”

“Well why don’t I be the judge of that?” Deacy said. He then walked over and picked up his bass and held it out for Jack. “Let’s see how good you really are.” Jack was mortified.

He took Deacy’s bass and slowly walked towards the stage and I followed behind.

“I think I just forgotten how to even play. (Y/n) this is too much.”

“Hey, if I can perform for a sold out Madison Garden show for the first time ever when I could barely come out of my shell, then you can surely play for your men. Don’t think of them as Queen right now, just think of them as if they are four normal guys looking for another bass player.” I whispered back to him.  Jack adjusted the bass onto his lap and tried to think of a song.

Soon the opening bassline for ‘Another one bites the dust’ echoed through the bass guitar.  I bobbed my head softly to the tune, even though this was the easiest bassline to follow I thought Jack was pretty good.

“Hold on, that’s too easy.” Said Deacy. Jack stopped nervously and looked up at John fearfully. “Play the bass solo for Liar.” Jack tuned the bass guitar and plucked the strings till he got the right pitch it needed to be and then he began to play the solo.

Now he may not be Deacy excellence but if I had to pick a close second to someone who could play the Liar bassline solo, I would definitely pick Jack.  He had all the right notes in his head and he really got into it as his head popped as I could tell he was running the song through his head.

As the solo picked up the sudden key change and got faster, I could see a faint smile across Deacy’s face and a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.  When the solo was done, Jack looked up at Deacy and said.

“Was it bad?” Deacy pondered being the secret little shit that he can be, leaving Jack on the edge of anticipation before he finally said.

“Actually, the only other person to ever nail that solo was me. There were a few notes that you missed but, I must say I am impressed. I’d be willing to show you some of my tricks to get the perfect note out of a bass.” I smiled at him.

The only other person Deacy ever gave tutorials to was me, and hearing him offer Jack some tutorial lessons, made me realize that Jack had gotten the Deacy seal of approval.

“I admit, that was impressive. We might actually replace you Deacy.” Freddie joked.

“While that is kind of you to offer, I’ll have to decline that rule. Queen just wouldn’t be the same without their true bass player.” Jack said.  I playfully shoved him and winked at him telling him that he had won his hero over, as well as the other boys.

“So Jack how long have you been playing bass?” asked Brian.

“Ever since I was a junior in high school. My friends and I tried to start a high school band but none of us were agreeing on songs, or who got credit for what, it was just a mess and within 2 months we broke up and practically never spoke to each other again.”  Damn, I can’t imagine if that had ever happened to my boys.

I mean yeah there’s fights and arguments but thankfully after taking a break from each other they come back and make more beautiful music together and still remain friends and not let past arguments affect them.  At least not too much.

“So what exactly are you doing here in London, really?” Roger interrogated.  I glared at Roger warning him that if he goes too far, then I’m kicking him out of the studio.

“Well it’s like I told (y/n). I’ve always wanted to see London, wondered what all the fuss was about that some of my old college friends made a big deal about moving to London once they graduate. Wanted to see if it was as grand as they say it is.”

“And do you think it is?”

“I mean…..it’s okay. Not crazy about the weather though. Back in Kansas there’s always sun except during the hurricane or tornado season. One year it rained almost the entire summer, flash floods were everywhere.”

“Must’ve been rough.” Said Brian.

“Yeah it was, especially where I live. My mom’s had this farm in her family for years and when the floods hit my hometown, it was just a mess to try and get everything back in order. But we prevailed and did it in the end.”

The rest of the day was spent by the boys asking Jack the most random or regular questions.  Of course Roger always made it feel like an interrogation, but after a few glares from me and smacks from Deacy, he slowly made his tone from bad cop to slightly good cop tonality.

After the long and brutal interrogation I mean conversation, Jack got to sit in on a rehearsal and whenever there was a break, Deacy took him aside and would give him his first bass tutorial as well as helpful tips on what to do to when the strings would get stuck.

Eventually it was getting late and Jack said he needed to head back to his flat.  I called Louis and told him to meet Jack downstairs to take him home.  Just before he left he asked me.

“When do you think you’ll be free next?”

“Oh god I don’t know, the next several weeks will be pretty busy. Plus there are some small individual concerts I’d said I’d attend to. But if something does open up, I’ll give you a call.”

“Sounds good, it was nice meeting you guys.” Jack said to the boys.

“You too Jack, take care darling.” Freddie said, and with that Jack left the rehearsal room.  A silence rang through the room and I asked the guys.

“Tell me the truth, all of you. What did you think of Jack?” They all looked at me and Brian was the first to speak up as he shrugged his hands upward.

“I think he’s a good chap.” I smiled at Brian and then Freddie was the next to speak up.

“I think he’s gay.” I scoffed out a laugh as the guys lightly chuckled.

“He’s a good lad, definitely has an ear for bass playing.” Said Deacy.  I then turned towards Roger and said.

“Rog?” He looked at me before exhaling heavily and he said.

“I’ll admit….he does sound like a good kid. But I still don’t feel too good about this.” I smiled softly and shook my head at him gently.  At least that was a start.

“Alright we’ve been working all night and I’m starving, whose up for a late-night supper?” Freddie asked.  The boys all chimed in and I raised my hand agreeing. As the boys left the rehearsal room and just before Deacy got up to leave, I walked up to him and hugged him. I held onto him for a moment before he looked up at me and I kissed his temple.

“Well, what was that for?”

“Do I even need a reason?” I asked him.  He grinned up at me and said as he brought me close to him.

“Well from you I’d take a free hug and kiss anytime.” He kissed the top of my head and I was kept in his arms for a little bit longer before finally he stood up and said again, “C’mon love, let’s go eat.”

He stood up and we each kept an arm wrapped around the other as we both walked out of the studio together to join up with the others for some late night supper.

That night it was me and my boys at a nearby Chinese restaurant of them telling me about their show in Japan, or just random stories of family life or past humiliation stories.  A night filled with smiles, laughter and the typical bonding time between Queen and the Rock Angel.

[hogwarts-and-mistletoe]

The Other Yule Ball

Title: The Other Yule Ball

Rating: Mature/NC-17

Category: Yule Ball (obviously, though it’s not the one in 4th year)

Summary: Ron and Hermione attend a charity Yule Ball twenty-five years after the original Yule Ball where everything went wrong. This time both of them end up getting what they want.

A/N: I know the fics are published anonymously but still wanted to add a tiny note. Basically, this is the first fic I’ve written in maybe six(?) years, so apologies if the writing is incredibly rusty. I hope you’re, nevertheless, able to enjoy the Christmassy theme and everyone’s favourite couple.

16th of December 2023

“You reckon Rose and Hugo will be embarrassed to have to deal with their Mum and Dad showing up at their school dance?” Ron asked his wife while absentmindedly adjusting his dark navy coloured dress robes in front of the bedroom mirror.

“Oh, I doubt it,” Hermione laughed while her hair neatly arranged itself in a low bun at the back of her neck at the flick of a wand. “I’m sure they’ll be quite happy to see us as long as you keep off the dance floor.” She stepped forward to adjust her husband’s tie.

“You know, ‘Mione, I’m actually quite excited to go,” Ron smirked, “kind of makes me feel like I’m getting a second chance at this whole Yule Ball thing with you.” He wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist, as she turned towards the mirror to adjust loose strands of hair around her neck. “Perhaps, I’ll even get a cheeky snog out of you this time unless old habits take place and I end up behaving like a jealous git again.”

Hermione spun around in Ron’s arms to face him with a devious look in her eyes. “I doubt Krum is coming so your chances of a snog are rather high,” she placed her hands on Ron’s cheeks, feeling the prickly stubble under her fingers, “we do, however, really need to get on our way to catch the ministry portkey or Rose will probably deduct house points off us for turning up late.”

***

After hurriedly apparating to the ministry and using an old red umbrella as a portkey, Ron and Hermione found themselves at the front gates of Hogwarts. Hermione, having returned to the castle to complete her education had eventually gotten used to the school and its grounds again following the horrors of the battle but Ron’s visits to the school following its restoration after the battle had been limited to hurried visits through various of the seven hidden passageways and a few nights in the Prefect’s Bathroom.

Now, twenty-five years later, he was returning to the castle as an honorary Order of Merlin First Class invitee alongside his wife and best friend. As the years had passed, he had grown increasingly tired of attending one charity event after another. It was not as if he did not care or believe them to be important, he just felt that the best way for him to remember Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby and everyone else was by spending time with his loved ones in the comfort of his cosy home, or at work with the Auror department ensuring similar terrors could never take place again. However, he had to admit to himself that tonight he was excited – he always really missed his children during term and it had been a while since him and Hermione had had a night off work together that included something other than them just falling asleep in each other’s arms on the sofa.

As Ron walked towards the Great Hall his mind kept wandering back to the last time he had attended a ball in the very same room. The magical ceiling was glistening in a similar way and enchanted instruments on either side of the room were playing cheery winter tunes. If only he could’ve travelled back in time and smacked his 14-year-old self on the head and forced him to make a move on Hermione and ask her to the ball, many things during their year on the run could have perhaps been so much easier. But as he walked a few steps behind his beloved wife, who had just spotted Harry and Ginny chatting with Neville and Hannah Longbottom, he was overcome with the familiar warm feeling that even if their path to each other had not been the most straightforward one, they had gotten there in the end and that was all that mattered. As a content smile crept upon his lips, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice not so different from his own.

“Oi! Knew you and Mum would be here at the last minute. Had trouble tying your tie? Or got too distracted while getting dressed? Actually, don’t answer that last question I really don’t want to know,” 15-year-old Hugo laughed and hugged his father.

“Watch your words young man, I’ve heard you’ve got a date of your own for tonight. Would be a shame if any embarrassing stories came up within her earshot,” Ron said and ruffled Hugo’s hair.

Rose, Albus and Lily also appeared from the crowd, and once Hermione had hugged both of her children, and Ginny and Harry had greeted Albus and Lily, the group headed to find their assigned seats. As they walked through the hall, towards one of the round tables in the front corner, Harry picked up glasses of bubbling champagne off a tray floating nearby and handed them to his friends.

***

Eventually, the quartet had seated themselves and the chatter bubbling around the room settled down as Kingsley Shacklebolt made his way towards the front of the hall dark purple robes whooshing in the air following his steps. As the Minister reached the enchanted microphone the hall fell silent in anticipation.

“Welcome, everyone. As I’m sure all of you know, this year marks the quarter century jubilee of the Battle of Hogwarts during which Lord Voldemort was defeated thus marking the end of the Second Wizarding War.” Kingsley eyed the quiet room. “Despite all the grieving and ache faced by too many families, it brings me the greatest joy to see everyone gathered in this room tonight. The Ministry, alongside the educational board of Hogwarts, felt that a celebration was in order, to pay special remembrance to those we lost, and to appreciate those around us who fought valiantly for our community to get it where we stand today.”

“The generation now studying within the walls of this castle, has been fortunate to grow up in a safe and tolerant wizarding society. However, we must never forget the price paid and the sacrifices made to achieve this status quo. Through hours of relentless work by our Aurors in the field as well as the numerous officials at Ministry headquarters, we have established a wizarding community that not only takes pride in its inclusiveness, but seeks to teach this moral right here at Hogwarts to ensure a peaceful future to all witches and wizards, regardless of their family background.” Kingsley waved his wand and his champagne flute glided smoothly across the air into his hand. “Therefore, I invite all of you, to raise a toast with me to everyone who has helped shape our future into where it stands today, and to each and every student, present and future, who will wander through the corridors of this castle and contribute to guaranteeing many more generations of peace.”

The end of Kingsley’s speech was marked by a stern nod and followed by the bright, glistening sound of hundreds of glasses clinking together. Then, with a swift wave of the Minister’s wand the enchanted instruments picked up a cheerful song and every plate within the hall was filled with a mountain of delicious food.

“Well, I’ll drink to our children being safer than us in this castle any day,” Ron said and emptied his champagne flute in one go.

“You’d better pace yourself,” Ginny smirked from across the table, “doubt your and Harry’s tolerance is at the same level it used to be at twenty years ago when a Firewhiskey bottle was a staple decoration on the drawing room table at Grimmauld’s place.”

“Or maybe,” Ron turned towards Hermione and whispered into her ear, “I’m in need of a bit of liquid encouragement to actually ask you to dance with me.”

Ron placed his hand on her thigh underneath the table as Hermione challenged him.

“Can’t remember heaps of encouragement being necessary the other night while we danced in the living room.” She saw the slightest of blushes creep up her husband’s cheeks, for which she highly doubted the alcohol now circling his veins was solely responsible for.

“So I heard Hugo has a date?” Ginny suddenly asked Hermione allowing her to pretend to ignore her husband’s hand creeping slightly higher along her thigh.

“Oh yes, he told us he was going with one of Lily’s friends. He seemed quite nervous in the letter he sent to us last week,” Hermione smiled at Ginny as they eyed the group of the fifth year Gryffindors to see what their younger children were up to.

“Well, I’m just glad to be at a Yule Ball where the two of you,” Harry piped in and gestured towards Ron and Hermione, “are actually talking to each other. Really would not have fancied another evening of silent treatment and moping on either of your parts,” he continued making both Ginny and Hermione laugh.

“Well, best friend, I’ll have you know my wife and I are both planning to behave just swimmingly tonight,” Ron said in a mock-serious manner to Harry, followed by a collective chuckle among the group.

***

After three delicious courses of dinner and a few shots of Firewhiskey had by Ron and Harry (Hermione and Ginny had forbidden them from sharing the drinks with Hugo and Albus who had eagerly approached the table in hopes of sneaking off with something stronger than Butterbeer), everyone was in good spirits. The dancefloor at the centre of the room had been getting more crowded as the night went on. The band of unmanned instruments at the side of the room was now playing a steady waltz and small enchanted snowflakes were steadily falling from the ceiling of the Great Hall. Ginny and Harry had been among the first guests to enter the dancefloor, but Ron and Hermione were still sitting at the table, attempting to unnoticeably keep an eye on a flustered Hugo who was dancing with his date. Rose and her friends, on the other hand, had disappeared to Gryffindor tower a while back smuggling what looked like quite a few bottles of mulled Christmas wine with them.  

“Boy that daughter of ours is smart,” Ron muttered to Hermione, “reckon if Harry and I had just grabbed a drink and disappeared all those years ago with the lads we could’ve avoided that massive argument.”

“Or, you could have just asked me to the ball with you, we could have had a nice swirl on the dance floor and everything would have been fine. On the other hand, I highly doubt Harry’s diplomacy skills would be half as good as they are today if it hadn’t been for all of our arguing,” Hermione said with a snicker.

“Well, not everyone can have the social skills of our son there,” Ron nodded in the direction of Hugo who was, rather impressively, waltzing with his date, “but I do think I’ll probably need to sneak a dance out of you at some point tonight, so we might as well get on the dancefloor before George and Harry convince me to join them at the bar for another round of Firewhiskey. Can’t guarantee I won’t be stepping on your toes if I have more to drink,” Ron said while standing up confidently, pulling Hermione up with himself and towards the dancefloor.

As the gentle notes of the music twinkled in the air, Hermione and Ron swayed on the dancefloor their steps circling in a soft, waltz-like manner. The confidence gained by both of them over the years, in addition to the familiarity of being close to each other, meant the actual act of dancing required little focus.

As Ron’s palm on the small of Hermione’s back pulled her closer, she shifted her hand from her husband’s strong shoulder to fidget with the soft fabric at the collar of his dress shirt.  The air between their bodies seemed to be getting increasingly more static as the dance went on. Hermione could feel Ron’s warm breath on her cheek and when looking up, she was pleasantly unsurprised to find her gaze met by an accustomed longing in Ron’s blue eyes. With the notes of the waltz beginning to subtly fade, Ron leaned down towards his wife.

"I think one song was enough dancing for tonight,” he attempted to say nonchalantly but ended up catching his breath mid-sentence. “Fancy a bit of fresh air? I think the hall is a bit -”

“ – crowded? Couldn’t agree more.” Hermione blurted and nodded towards the doors.

***

Ron was suddenly very glad of every forbidden night-time-wander around the castle, knowing exactly which direction to head in. He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears and pooling in other parts of his body and by the hastiness in Hermione’s steps alongside him, he knew she was feeling the same way. Eventually, they reached the end of a corridor finding a simple wooden door with a heavy but unlocked pewter latch. After a quick peek behind them, the couple hurriedly stepped into the storage closet.

As soon as Ron closed the door, Hermione’s fingers rushed to intertwine with strands of his hair and pulled him down to a deep kiss. Feeling Hermione bite down on his bottom lip, Ron’s arms snaked around her waist, eagerly lifting her up onto the almost-too-conveniently-for-it-to-be-a-coincidence placed shelf, hiking up the hem of Hermione’s dress in the process.

“God, as much as I loved dancing with you it was really a struggle to keep my hands somewhere appropriate for the public eye. Had forgotten dancing with you gets me all hot and bothered,” Ron breathed placing kisses down Hermione’s neck in the process.

“Mmm,” Hermione hummed kissing her husband’s stubbly chin, “I personally was struggling to keep my thoughts away from how during the ball years ago all I hoped for was a snog in a broom closet with my ginger best friend, no matter how hideous his dress robes –”

“Better not mock the dress robes, might just ditch you here and now,” Ron laughed, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down Hermione’s spine. “Not that I have even a fraction of the self-control necessary for that,” he continued with his voice quivering as Hermione’s hands traced down his torso, unbuttoning the silvery buttons on his dress shirt.

With his desire developing within him, Ron made a conscious attempt to stay focused as his hands entangled themselves from Hermione’s hair and traced their way to the back of her neck. After eagerly unzipping the fabric of Hermione’s silky dress, Ron pulled the top half of the smooth fabric down to expose a red lace bra, which he knew to be part of a set with matching knickers.

“Cheeky witch, you planned this, didn’t you?” he chuckled his hot breath lingering in the air for the slightest moment before being captured by Hermione’s lips. Their kisses grew increasingly desperate and Hermione leaned against the wall as Ron’s mouth worked its way skilfully down her chest and then up her neck towards her ear, where he played with her earlobe between his teeth making her feel dizzy.

Hermione’s hands found the waistband of Ron’s trousers under the robes and with swift, rehearsed movements she unbuckled his belt, the sound of metal sharp in the dim air of the storage closet. As Hermione slid her hand downward and picked up a steady pace around Ron’s hardened erection, he placed his hand on her thigh, as an attempt to balance himself.  Ron leaned his forehead against Hermione’s, his lips only barely not touching hers, as his hand found its way to the centre between Hermione’s widened legs pushing aside the delicate lacy fabric. Tentatively, he dipped two fingers inside her warmth, gaining an appreciative sigh in response.

“Really not the time for teasing,” Hermione groaned, pushing herself down onto Ron’s palm, only to find her pining met by a smug smirk on her favourite ginger’s face.

“Oh is it not, now? Are you saying this is what you’ve had on your mind for the whole evening then? Just been thinking of me fucking you in a storage closet? You really should voice these thoughts more often, you know,” Ron replied struggling to keep huskiness out of his voice with Hermione’s fingers altering between gentle caresses and firm strokes along his cock.  

“N-not just this –”, Hermione whimpered as Ron’s skilled fingers picked up their pace and he leaned in to nibble on the sensitive skin around her collarbones, “– need you, closer,” she pleaded sparing the tiniest of thoughts towards whether the closet they were in was soundproof.

Reaching down towards Ron’s length once more, delicately playing around with her fingers, she watched his eyes turn darker with lust. Within moments she found his large hand drawing her towards the edge of the shelf as he positioned himself, teasing her folds with his tip for an excruciatingly long second, before sinking deep into her. Any anxieties regarding the door of the closet being locked, or whether anyone would be able to hear them were long gone from Hermione’s mind as she groaned at the feeling of Ron filling her.

“Not even sure I remembered to tell you how fucking beautiful you looked tonight”, Ron muttered amidst trying to catch his breath while the shelf Hermione was positioned on slammed rhythmically against the wall. “I mean, fuck, you always do but, fuck, did I want to unzip that dress off you before we were even out of the house tonight.”

Ron picked up his pace and slid his hand down to rub Hermione’s clit, resulting in her nails pressing down on the skin on his back, reminding him of the days of being extra cautious in the changing rooms at the Auror Academy if he did not want everyone to see the marks his girlfriend often left on his pale skin amidst their desires.

It did not take long for the rhythm of Ron’s thrusts to become uneven and Hermione slid her hand to the back of his neck, grasping strands of his hair between her fingers in the process.

“Fuck, Ron, it’s too much”, Hermione choked right before her legs tensed around his waist and her centre dissolved into warm pleasure. As she pulled Ron’s lips down for a heated kiss and nibbled on his lip, his moans became increasingly louder and an assortment of profanities rolled off his lips into Hermione’s mouth as his knees buckled ever so slightly at his release.

“God, I love you,” Hermione whispered gently while placing soft kisses on her husband’s sweaty forehead as the pair remained intertwined.

“Love you too,” Ron mumbled, steadying himself and standing up to catch his breath.

After a few waves of wands to clean up, some moments of gentle kisses and Ron eventually managing to convince Hermione that her hair looked acceptably unmessy (“I swear, ‘Mione, if it looked like it normally does post-shag I would tell you! It looks fine, no one will know where we’ve been”), Ron peeked out of the door to check that the corridor was empty.

***

“If only I had actually bothered with Divination at school and been able to see what just happened, perhaps I would have been a lot more convinced of the subject’s credibility”, Ron sniggered, closing the storage closet door behind Hermione and himself. As the couple turned around the corner they were momentarily shocked to bump into Hugo, who looked to be in a hurry.

“Where on earth are you on your way to?” Hermione quizzed him, making a mental note of the fact that Hugo was alone and did not seem to be on his way to the very same closet his parents had just vacated.

“Ehmm, the loo?”, Hugo said his answer sounding more like a question as he eyed his parents with a confused look on his face.

“You sure you’re not just planning on sneaking into that storage closet at the end of the hall for a cheeky snog with your date?” Ron laughed deviously, glancing at Hermione who was attempting to inconspicuously check her dress was looking presentable.

“Storage closet? The only thing at the end of that hall, as far as I know, is a boy’s loo”, Hugo said pressingly and directed a judging glance at his parents. “I reaaally don’t want to know why the pair of you seem to be under the impression there’s a storage closet. On that note, I’m off. I’ll see you later.”

“Cheeky lad. The loo?”, Ron said grabbing Hermione by the waist as they headed down the corridor. “I’ll bet you five galleons that in a few seconds we’ll run into that girl he was attempting to charm with his well-rehearsed dance steps –” but his thought was interrupted when he noticed the expression on Hermione’s face.

“Actually, I don’t think he was lying”, she said a complacent grin creeping upon her still flushed cheeks, “but rather we’ve just established something no one was entirely sure of until today.”

“What’s that?” Ron asked looking increasingly perplexed while inattentively smoothing down the unruly hair at the back of his neck.

“Funny, isn’t it, how conveniently placed that shelf to the right of the door was? Perfect height for you to lift me on? Handy that no one else barged in despite us forgetting to lock the door and the castle being packed tonight?”, Hermione smirked. “It seems the Room of Requirement may not have been destroyed by the Fiendfyre all those years ago after all.”

[rogerlad]

The City of Rose & Sun: Part Eight

A/N: Okay so earlier than expected, but this one only totals out to three pages long. One of the shorter ‘chapters’ in this series. I really want to make parts nine and ten longer, since I feel I’ve been cheating you all a bit on a juicy story. Plus, this story is almost at it’s end, which makes me very sad, but all good things, as we know, do end. Please enjoy, leave feedback! I answer to everyone. Cheers x

Tag List: @emmieliabedelia @madamnouiselle @laubluered@rogertaylorsblondhair @2ptonpt @kat-to-the-rina @hayley8089 @oklahania@soberandfurious @ughjaims @rogertaylor-xx @fortunately-strange-queen@swingspideyswing @magicwithaknife @scoreofvolunteers @i-got-no-rhythm@i-am-sarah @herewegoagainniall

The City of Rose & Sun: Part Eight

“Brian! You son of a bitch!” Roger shouted, whipping the blood away from his nose. He scrambled to his feet quickly, winding up to throw a punch, but John intercepted.

“I’m not going to let you two behave like animals.” He raised his voice and Brian and Rog.

“Deacy. Move.” Brian growled. You had just been standing there, crying, unable to truly process what was happening. You spotted Freddie, coming out of the bar with the girl Hannah, you had met earlier.

“Brian?” The girl quietly asked. You watched as Brian’s features softened, in full realization at what he had done. He quickly ran a hand through his hair.

“Hannah? I’m sorry, I just-Come on let’s go back inside.” He said, placing an arm around the girl’s shoulder. You watched as the walked back into the noisy pub. Jealousy danced through you. How could he? You were outraged. He was your best friend and he just shrugged you off for some girl he’d just met.

“I HATE this fucking place!” You shouted, causing the remaining boys to stare at you in confusion. “I hate this country! I hate this bloody bar! I hate this stupid band! And most of all I hate you Roger!” You stormed off towards the hotel.

“Slow down Rose. I was a boxer, not a track star.” Freddie said, catching up to you. You paced yourself.

“I-He-That. Pig.” You said under your breath, whipping tears away from your eyes.

“You’re sure he kissed her?” Freddie asked. You looked at him in disbelief.

“Of course he did! I saw him!” You shouted at the man, who widened his eyes. It was never in your nature to yell, so you understood his shock.

“Okay, okay. C’mon dear, let’s go back to the hotel.”

After you shoved your belongings back into your suitcase in a furry, Freddie walked with you to the third floor. He had tried to suggest to you that, maybe you hadn’t saw what you thought you had, but you were stubborn.

“I’m not blind Fred.” You said softly. Stopping outside of the room marked “17″. You slid against the door, and waited for Brian’s return. Freddie, slumped down beside you. 

“I know you’re not.” He gave you a half smile. “But, I’ve never seen Roger so mad over a girl before and I just think that something isn’t adding up here.” As much as you wanted to agree with Freddie, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You had known Roger for a couple years now, and you knew exactly how he was with women. You wished you had been surprised by his actions this evening.

“I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You sighed, stretching your legs out before you. “Can we talk about something else? Anything. Cats?” You offered, smiling slightly. Freddie laughed before going on a tangent about each of his furred friends.

“Rose?” Brian’s voice was soft, as he knelt before you. “Wake up love.” You opened your eyes slowly, not realizing you had fallen asleep waiting for him.

“I bored her to death with my cat stories.” Freddie joked, standing behind Brian. “Goodnight, petal. Brian.” He said, as he headed off for his own bed, probably thankful for Brian’s return.

“How could you just leave me?” You asked once inside Brian’s room. Your voice was soft. Brian sat next to you on the bed.

“I just would have said something I regretted. I wanted nothing more than to make sure you were okay, but I also probably would have killed Roger.” He tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but you weren’t budging.

“You’re my best friend, and you abandoned me for that Hannah girl.” You wanted to cry, but you honestly didn’t think you could shed one more tear.

“I like her...” He trailed off. You knew it wasn’t fair to use her against him. Brian rarely took interest in anyone on the road, and you had seen how happy she made him in such a short time.

“I’m sorry.” You said, sheepishly. He widened his eyes at you.

“What on earth are you apologizing for?” Brian said, pulling you into his side. “If anyone should apologize it should be-” A knock at the door interrupted him.

“Speak of the devil?” You asked, as Brian stood to answer. He pulled back the door, but to your surprise no one was there.

“Oh.” Brian said, bending over. You walked over to the door curious as to what was going on.

“What is it?” You asked. Brian turned around holding a vase filled with twelve roses. A card stuck out the top, and you immediately recognized Roger’s hand writing. 

“Read it.” Brian said. You plucked the small card and read it out loud.

“My dearest Rosie, out of all these roses’ you are still my favorite one.”

Sunlight danced across your face as Brian drew back the window curtains. You groaned and rolled over. You spotted the vase of roses sitting on your bedside table. You groaned again, rolling back towards the sunlight.

“We have to eat breakfast, Rose.” Brian said, sitting at the edge of your bed.

“I don’t want to.” You pulled the covers over your head, acting like a child. Brian tugged them back down, you glared at him.

“Can’t avoid him forever.” Brian stated. You had stayed cooped up in the hotel room for an entire day. Forcing Brian to bring you food from the buffet. You had ignored his previous pleads to come down and face Roger.

“You owe it to him, to hear his side of the story.” Brian said, now grabbing clothes for you out of your suitcase.

“I owe him shit.” You grumbled. Apparently Brian had confronted the living devil, and he spewed him some story of how the girl had thrown herself onto him.

“Rosanna, I’m not going to ask you again. Get up.” Brian’s tone shifted, and you found yourself sliding out of the bed.

“I don’t like you.” You said, grabbing the clothes from your friend.

“Don’t have to.” He retorted, tugging a sweater over his head. You went into the bathroom to change and get ready for the day. You’d be damned to let Rog see you presented, as anything less than beautiful. You effortlessly did your makeup, and tied your hair into a high ponytail. When you wore your hair up, it always sharpened your cheek bones. You slid on your dangerously tight black jeans, and pulled over a white V-neck shirt. You looked good.

“About time.” Brian said, impatiently leaning against the door. You rolled your eyes at him, and followed him down the stairs, to the dinning lounge.

Your heart stopped when you saw him there, spooning his porridge sadly. His eyes were red and puffed. Your heart broke for him. Only for a second. You stood tall and walked toward the table, sitting next to Fred. Directly across from Roger.

“Good morning Freddie. John. Piece of shit.” You smiled, happily, before diving into your waffles. John nearly choked on his tea. Roger seemed to sink lower into his chair, not bothering to look up. Brian sighed in disappointment.

“Well good morning to you too my dear, why so cheery?” Freddie asked, clearly amused at the new side of you.

“Just, a beautiful day.” You replied, voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Will you be coming to our rehearsal this afternoon?” Fred asked, facing you fully. You thought about it for a moment.

“I’d like that. Be nice to see if there are any men around I can throw myself at.” You smiled back at him. Roger excused himself from the table.

“Think you could stop acting like a twat and go after him now?” Brian asked sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. You locked your eyes with him for a moment, before sighing. You knew he was serious, and you didn’t want another lecture on the situation at hand. You set your fork down, and headed to the lobby.

He was already on the second flight of stairs when you saw him. “Roger!” You called up at him. He looked down at you, but continued to walk up. You cursed Brian under your breath and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When you reached the second floor, Roger was fumbling with his room key.

“Would you stop?” You asked, panting now, as you walked towards him.

“Why are you chasing after me when I’m just a piece of shit.” He hissed at you, finally getting his door open. You stepped in front of him.

“I don’t want to be here, believe me, but my best friend seems to have this idea in his mind that I owe you a chance to explain yourself.” You snorted. The hurt on his face hadn’t let up. You looked down and back up into his swollen eyes. It’s time to drop the act, Rose. You told yourself.

“Roger, you broke my heart.” You said softly, biting your lip.

“Go.” Roger weakly said, nodding his head in the direction of his room. You walked in, and sat on his bed. He knelt down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. You had missed him touching you. “Rose. She kissed me, now listen I know you don’t believe it but it’s true. She followed me around all night, you can ask any of the lads. They saw. I told her a hundred times I wasn’t interested in the likes of her, and I was waiting for you. When I saw you coming, I told her that you were my girl. Thats when-That’s when she...kissed me.” He hung his head. You had never in your life seen him so broken. A large part of you wanted nothing more than to storm off, and never see him again, but somehow you believed him; If Brian had believed him, it was reason enough for you to as well.

“Okay.” You whispered, touching his cheek with your hand. He looked at you, shocked. It was as if he had expected you to walk out of his life, and never look back.

“You believe me?” He was flabbergasted.

“Should I have a reason not to?” You asked, smiling softly. He shook his head vigorously.

“No, no!” He exclaimed moving his hands from your knees to your waist.

“Am I still your favorite Rose?” You questioned.

“Always.” He smiled, before reaching up and kissing you.