#borhap!chrissie

[eileen-crys]

Re the borhap film (I've seen discussion on your feed): 2 things come to mind. There are at least 4 references to John songs in the film including SYW which i am sure was done to keep Deacon family happy (luke also met Joe Mazzello during filming). Also I read chrissie mullen asked for her scenes to be cut according to the daily mail. The fact that the plot is all over the place reflects the fact that they had to weave together a superficial script whilst not offending various people with a stake in Queen's history. It was always going to be full of clichéd banalities for that reason.

Yup yup. Everything is very washed out, as if they were scared of making this movie. On one side it's understandable and I'm glad they didn't make it grotesque and all about sex/gay sex and drugs, because honestly Queen were debauched, but compared to other bands... not AS much. I've seen the Mötley Crue movie as well and that was the opposite 😅 A movie focused on their music and history was perfectly doable without falling in shitty stereotypes or potentially offensive situations.

On the other side, they went so lightly on everything, probably out of "respect" that everyone is a bidimensional caricature with a few one-liners, little relationship with each other, and just the very surface of what could've been. They were so scared to offend them or make a mistake that went on the safe but empty way: don't do anything with the characters.

I've read about Chrissie and I understand that she's very private and given the timeline I imagine they would've shown a bit more of her and Brian as a couple and she wanted to avoid drawing too much attention on her because of what happened irl later. (Fun fact: I was about to say she's the only one that gets her name said out loud, in the WWRY scene and Brian calls her on stage, but I just rewatched the party scene and Dominique's name also gets said out loud by Freddie and he basically insults her. Boo 😅)

There's definitely been lots of rough cuts and patches in the script.

[anerdquemoraaolado]

Through Chrissie’s eyes

At Hyde Park

The following days for Queen were filled by preparations for the show in Hyde Park. As much as John Reid was taking care of everything, Roger, John, Freddie and Brian made a point of being present to find out how everything was being organized. Once again, Brian brought me to see the stage assembly and all the sound equipment. There were at least fifty people working, running back and forth, resolving any setbacks here and there. Brian took me by the hand to a certain distance from the almost ready structure of the stage, and we stood right in front of it.

The size of that thing made my stomach go tumbling. Something as big as that, to be used by only four people, four people of my family, whom I loved very much. Queen was growing and the crowd still frightened me. But I decided not to let this frighten me, they would be the center of attention, not me. More and more people recognized their talent and this in itself was what made me happy.

"It's going to be a big event, isn't it?" I said to my husband aloud.

"Yeah, Branson didn't measure up," Brian sighed, "they're going to fill the park on Saturday, that's what I expect, so it's all worth it."

"Bri, I ..." I hesitated, still impressed with all the work to organize the show "I never asked you this, but ... seeing a stage of this size, doesn't intimidate you a bit?"

"Oh yeah, for sure" he laughed, a little embarrassed "but after the tours I got used to it. Do you know what helps a little? It's just that no one is looking directly at me, and even if they look, there's no way I'm going to notice it because of the distance the audience is from the stage, besides, we're four. And ... Freddie always draws attention to himself."

"That's true" I said, remembering how the singer was a little more excited than usual in recent days over the show "he's trilling, but you?"

"A little nervous, really" Brian confessed "but until that happens upstairs, when I start playing with the guys, we kind of have fun and help forget the fear of the stage, we connect with the audience and we end up changing the same energy. They end up paying more attention to the music itself than to each of us. It's incredible! What is it?"

I loved watching Brian as he spoke excitedly about something he loved, and I was there in that kind of situation again, staring at him with shining eyes.

"Nothing, it's that ..." I lowered my eyes, but I got the courage to say it "When you talk like that, it always makes me fall in love with you even more."

"I don't know what I did, but thank you" Brian smiled and gave me a quick kiss, which was allowed in his current work environment.

"I hate to interrupt the two lovebirds, but we need to rehearse Bri" John came to call the band's guitarist "did you see Roger? He missed a while ago."

"Oh, I have no idea where he got in" Brian said, a little worried "I'll see if I find him, John, and we'll meet later."

"Okay, I'll wait for you" John nodded and went to the stage.

"Look Bri, I think I have an idea where he is" I remembered the motive of embarassment that our friend had last week "go to meet Freddie and John, I'll find Rog."

"Okay, thank you" He kissed my cheek as he said goodbye.

I went to the Mr. Branson's trailer, a kind of mobile office to take care of the details of the show very close to where it would happen, and of course his faithful squire Dominique was accompanying him and helping him in everything. I looked around the trailer, but there were no signs of Roger around. I knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer.

"Chrissie!" Dominique smiled at me after opening the door, looking slightly relieved "what can I do for you?"

"Actually, I don't think I'm going to need any help." I looked away at a roguish way looking Roger inside the trailer and stared at him, angry "I found exactly what I was looking for."

"Come on, Chrissie, you didn't come here to scold, did you?" he shrugged, pretending to be innocent.

"I came to do you a favor, the boys are looking for you to rehearse, now!" I put my hands on my waist, placing authority in my voice.

"Okay, you don't have to say again" he muttered, and before he followed me, he gave Dominique a puppy look.

"Duty calls, Mr. Taylor" she replied, sounding irritated "You have to work, and so do I, ah, and one more thing, if you feel thirsty again you don't have to come to me just to drink some water, there's water wit the stage assistants, okay?"

He nodded to her, unable to say anything new, and finally left Dominique alone.

"But what is this water story?" I asked as we walked side by side.

"Oh, I was thirsty and I came to ask her where the water was" He shrugged.

"Seriously?" I looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world "and what else did you invent just to see her? Because I know that's exactly what you've been doing all day, I've seen you after her earlier."

"Oh Chrissie, I was just having some doubts about how everything will work, that's all ..." he thought I was misleading him with that naughty smile of his.

"Look, listen to me, if you really like her, you have to let the poor girl breathe, you're obsessed with her, if you didn't notice" I said, annoyed by his behavior.

"You know my bet? I'm running late to get it done, one time she'll agree to go out on a date with me " Roger explained, but it only made me angrier.

"And you already asked her out?" I crossed my arms.

"No ..." I ended up finding his fault "but I'm working on it."

I just put a hand on my forehead and shook my head, trying to cope with his stupid insistence. I stood in a corner of the stage to see the rehearsal.

Roger joined the boys, who received him with grunts and grimaces. So they ignored the delay and began rehearsing. They touched the entire Sheer Heart Attack, and Roger scowled here and there in the process. Before moving on to the next song, the drummer asked for a pause.

"What is it now, Rog?" Freddie asked him impatiently.

"No, it's just that ..." Roger grimaced and tried to move his foot "it looks like someone glued chewing gum on my pedal!"

"You're kidding ..." Brian sounded incredulous.

"No, man, that's serious." Roger lifted his foot hard and really had a gum glued to his sneakers"I'm going to complain to Branson, how absurd, it's clear someone put this here on purpose ..."

Without much thought he tried to take the chewing gum with his hand, and suddenly, a firecracker exploded near the battery. Roger jumped and screamed as sharply as when he sang, we all got scared, we looked around to see who had been the author of the prank, perhaps the same person who had glued the chewing gum.

An instant later, Dominique appeared and I soon realized that she was holding on to keep from laughing.

"I was standing nearby and I heard something popping up," she explained to the band. "Has anything serious happened?"

Roger rose angrily and went to her full of demanding.

"First, someone stuck chewing gum on my pedal, and then they popped a firecracker near me, I'd love to find out who it was and have a nice chat with him, Ms. Beyrand" He was speaking with his hands on his waist, ignoring the charming way he had used to speak to her so far.

"Well, you're talking to her Mr. Taylor" she allowed herself to laugh "it was my way of making it clear that your pursuit with me was already over the edge."

I saw the confused face that the drummer did while processing what Dominique had told her, she had just confessed that she had made those pranks with him. Instead of yelling at her, or playing the charming, he started to laugh. Even Dominique was confused by his reaction.

"You had the courage to do this to me? I have to congratulate you!" Roger laughed a little more. "Darling, you rock! And look, I called you darling with all respect, just to make it clear. And I apologize for being a sticky tick today. Can we start over?"

 He ended up offering her a hand, which she ended up shaking.

"Apologies accepted Mr. Taylor" Dom replied, and I realized that she was a bit impressed that he had laugh of her pranks.

"You can call me Roger" the drummer offered.

"And you can call me Dominique, out of work" she smiled.

"You mean I'll see you out of work?" Roger risked.

"Who knows ..." Dominique let it out. "Now come back to the rehearsal, I've already messed you up too much."

And so, she left us leaving with the only thought of "But what just happened?". Roger stood for a moment with that silly smile for nothing before the boys went back to rehearsal.

[leopardprintismybrown]

So i just watched Bohemian rhapsody for the second time and i’ve come to realise that the casting for the band member’s wives/girlfriends was not that great😂 The woman who portrayed Dominique (who i’m sure is a lovely person) looks nothing like her🤦🏾 it’s one of the few things i’d change about the film

No, the actresses looked nothing like the Queen wives! Especially Veronica, but also Chrissie 😕 They could’ve definitely picked someone more fitting even for Dominique, who looks older and quite stiff with those outfits. The woman definitely didn’t radiate her vibes 👎🏻

[cheeseon-toast]

brian may: writes fat bottomed girls

chrissie, his twig ass wife when the song was dropped:

[mirkwoodshewolf]

On set visits; Queen x reader x Borhap boys pt. 2

*Author's note*

And here is part 2. And that's all I've got of the Rock Angel for now. Hope you all enjoy this special binge read of the series. Soon enough the story will come to an end after a few more chapters (I've had the last chapter written for like 2 years now) but I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well as the binge reading I have provided for you all. Until next time, stay healthy, stay safe, and anyone getting their vaccines GOOD LUCK!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@simonedk

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@bohemiansweede

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@wormzteef

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

___________________________________________________________

*Meeting the new Rock Angel. Filming continues*

A few days later after bonding with the actors playing my boys, I came to any day of filming I could (outside of my album recording and touring with Queen and Adam). Now the boys promised me and I knew they would follow up with it, the young actress they got to play me in as a cameo for the Live Aid sequence.

I was talking with Miami when we both heard a knock and that's when Graham King came in.

"I've got her."

"Bring her in." I said. He opened the door wider and soon came in the young woman came in.

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Kline?"

"Yes my dear come in." I said. She came in and took a seat on one of the producer's chair. "I wanted to speak to you guys privately about some things that have come up. But first I would like to know your name my dear girl."

"Ashley. My name's Ashley Johansson. But my friends call me Ash."

"Lovely to meet you Ash, from what I saw up there you—you blew me away."

"Uhh thank you. And can I just say I've been such a big fan of yours. My mum always played your first album on repeat every day when she'd take me to school. But I thank her for that cause your story has just been such an inspiration to not only me but her as well."

"I'm flattered Ash. I'm always happy to hear that I inspire people, even when I feel like I'm not really doing anything. All I do is just bring my music out into the world and try to give voice to things that other's don't deem important."

"That makes you an inspiration Mrs. Kline." She said.

"Oh please Ash darling, call me (y/n)."

"Okay....(y/n)."

"Now then straight to business. As you know Hollywood's always wanting to create biopics of anything and everything. And while I've been aware of both Queen's story as well as Elton's life being made into films. I've always been reluctant in getting my story out, but from what I saw a few days ago I feel like I might've found the right team to do just that. So my dear Ash, tell me this; who do you trust the most in Queen?" she looked at me confused but she soon realized just what I was doing.

"Brian was asking me tons of questions but that was the only question Roger ever asked me."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him, that.....All the members of Queen are my family. But if I had to pick, Roger has always seen each side of me. Whether it was the happiest moment of my life, or the darkest day. He's seen my true colors that none of the other band members had seen." I smiled softly and said.

"What happened after you said that?"

"He—he might not have wanted anyone to know but—I could swear I saw him wipe a tear from his eye." I smiled and lowered my head.

"That's my papa lion alright." I muttered. I looked back up to Graham and Ashley and continued, "After seeing the hard work you all have put into Queen's story, I've come to the decision along with my manager and former boss Miami, that I'm willing to sign off the rights to the film to you Graham King. And I want you my dear Ash to play me." They both looked at me in surprise.

"You're—you're serious? You-you want me to play you?"

"I can think of no other person. My uncle and father figures chose well. They—after all knew me better than I knew myself." I heard Miami chuckle softly.

"Thank you (y/n)."

"But there are conditions that I seriously must emphasize on."

"Whatever you want."

"Okay first; I will be heavily involved with the project."

"Done." He said.

"Second, there are some events I will allowed to be shown. But I absolutely refuse to have the stalking episode I was forced to suffer with be heavily shown. It can be touched on but I want nothing else about it in the film. It was hell for my family and my children were scarred for almost ten years, especially my daughter."

"It was horrifying. In my Folklore and true crime class, someone actually did a story on him in the aspect of why celebrity stalking should've been taken more into consideration." Ash said. I closed my eyes heavily trying to compose myself when I felt a hand grasp mine.

"If anything more is spoken about in regards to my Angel's stalker, the project will immediately be terminated." Miami said. I turned to him and he looked at me and nodded firmly as he patted my hand comfortingly.

"The writer's will be informed on it immediately."

"And in regard to Queen's casting, make sure that those four young boys are involved with the project. I love all four of them, they are—everything I remember when I first worked with Queen."

"It shall be done. After this film wraps up and the premiere at Wembley Stadium, you and I can meet at Abbey Road to discuss further more on the project and all the rights that need to be signed." Graham told me.

"Graham King, you've got yourself a deal." We both shook on it. A pact forged that a movie about the Rock Angel would come to place.

Months passed and I was busy touring alongside Queen and Adam for a time, up until Brian decided to pop in on set for a surprise visit. He told me that the boys were now filming the Rockfield farm studio scenes. Now this was one filming session I definitely didn't want to miss.

Brian and I drove up to the location in Hertfordshire, a charming little place known as Stocker's farmhouse and cottage. Since the real Rockfield farm studios wasn't suitable for filming, and ridge farm closed down back in 2003, Stocker's was the only place left.

Coming up onto the filming location, I began to see it looking sorta similar to what Rockfield was when I had used it earlier in my career.

"The studio definitely chose the perfect setting I must say." I said to Brian who was driving.

"Indeed. When the lads and I first came to Rockfield farm we couldn't believe that that was what Fred had in mind."

"But the wide open spaces sure do provide little to no distraction. Guess that's what made a Night at the Opera so successful to you guys."

"You really think so?"

"I know that's how it was for my first album. Plus why do you think your 5th album is the most talked about in regard to your earlier works."

"Suppose you do have a point." He shrugged. After about ten minutes of driving through the country roads, we finally arrived at the farm and the barn house there made me think of the real Rockfield farm studios.

"Not quite the same but the atmosphere of it just brings back memories doesn't it?"

"It does indeed. Shall we go surprise them?"

"Yes, lets." He shut the car off and we both exited the car. We walked towards the barn house where the guys must already be filming right about now since there wasn't really anyone outside. Once we got up to the door, Brian slowly and quietly opened the door but gestured me to go in first.

"Oh lady's first." He said.

"Thank you." I walked inside and Bri followed behind me. Inside I saw some of the crew walking around setting some stuff up. All around it was like the actual recording studio Rockfield farm had. From all the pictures I remember seeing in either magazines or even Brian himself, it was like I was transported back in time to when Queen recorded "A Night at the Opera".

"You know some of those amps and even Roger's kit we used at the time are here."

"Really? So you and Rog donated some of the actual gear?"

"Yep. Since the fans will be nitpicky about certain aspects it's just a fun little way to give them a taste of some of the real equipment. Even Red's here."

"No way. No wonder why you've been using those Red special copies throughout the tour. But Bri are you sure it's okay? I mean I know how protective you are of Red."

"She's been in the best of care."

"Right, right with your mini-copy. I swear even out of the wig and the clothes I can still see you in Gwilym. Are you sure you didn't have another child with a different woman besides Chrissie?"

"I'm positive." He assured me.

"Oh and speak of the devil there's your clone now. Why don't you go say hi while I go find the rest of the little rascals." I patted his shoulder and walked off. As I walked along I saw a familiar figure wearing a long blonde hair sitting next to another young man wearing long auburn hair that went past his shoulder.

I shook my head and walked up to them saying.

"God I swear it's like I transported back in time to 1975." They looked up and proclaimed my name. I was soon tackled in a sandwiched by Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were touring?" asked Ben.

"I was. But Brian decided to do a little surprise visit so I figured since I missed seeing you four so much, I figured I'd tag along and see how it's coming along. So what all have you done since I was last here?"

"We did a scene in Miami's office to represent Queen getting back together before Live Aid, a concert at Madison Square Garden, and the recording studio scene with Mike Myers." Joe explained.

"Now for the next couple of weeks we'll be doing some of the Rockfield farm recordings as well as the Bohemian Rhapsody music video, when Freddie joins Smile, and the "I want to Break free music video." Ben finished.

"Oh now that last one I've got to see for myself." I said grinning ear to ear. "I'll bet you four are gonna rock the drag look just like my boys did. Especially you Ben." I teased as I gently pinched his cheek.

"Yeah Benjamin I can't wait to see you in that skirt." Joe teased as well pinching his other cheek.

"Alright, alright you two enough." He said brushing our hands away and trying to contain his blush. I giggled softly.

"When that day comes, do I got some stories to share with you all about that day."

"We look forward to hearing them." Said Joe.

"And I look forward to telling them. Just let me know if you boys ever get bored of an old woman ranting on about the past."

"Never (y/n). We could never be bored of you. We love having you here, you've given us a lot of support and advice for playing your coworkers and family members." Ben said as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

"Yeah. We could never get bored of you. The day we get bored of you is the day the four of us stop being Queen fanatics. And this movie only keeps increasing our fandom tenfold each and every day." Joe said as he leaned up against my other shoulder.

"Aww you boys are sweet." I kissed Ben's cheek first which made him blush and softly chuckle.

"You lucky dog! I wanna Rock Angel smooch!"

"Then pucker up Joey dear." He puckered up his lips and I leaned in but at the last second I kissed his cheek which made him pout like a child. I laughed and said. "Sorry my dear, but my lips are reserved for one man."

"Can't blame a guy for trying though right?" he asked hopefully.

"No. I guess not. Now Benjamin, if you'll come with me real quick I would like to spend a little one on one time with you." I wrapped an arm around him when Joe said.

"Better not seduce him away from me!"

"Please Joe dear like I'd ever steal a man from you!" I cried back at him. We walked outside and walked towards the cottage. "Ben I've been wanting to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"When we first met; I had mentioned that I was looking forward to seeing you play the drums, but I noticed that you seemed a bit—tense." He froze right there on the spot. I turned towards him and stood in front of him. "Benjamin. Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Well I—uhh.....when I, when I went to auditioned I—might've said that I......knew how to play the drums. But I've....never drummed a day in my life."

"So you lied? You lied and ended up getting the part of playing my only father figure in the world?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry (y/n) I just really wanted the job. But I worked hard and trained over ten hours a day in the 8 weeks rehearsal time before we shot Live Aid. I just love Queen so much and I—"

"Ben." I pressed my finger to his lips. "Relax. I knew you lied the second day of filming. Roger told me."

"Did he mention the prank that Rami tried to pull on me?" I nodded as I hummed. "Damn rat."

"Oh trust me. When it comes to certain secrets, Roger cannot keep them forever. Especially when his lion cub gets involved in wanting to know." I removed my finger and cupped underneath his jawline. "But when I saw you perform the entire Live Aid sequence, it hardly seemed like you hadn't drummed a day in your life. While I don't condone for liars, I appreciate that you took the time to study just how exactly Roger drums."

"It wasn't easy. But he was supportive and he even gave me a mini drum lesson. Of course he had to step back and say 'alright. Show me what you got'."

"That's exactly like Roger. He always did the same to me whenever he gave me a drum lesson. I remember when he taught me how to play 'Don't stop me now' back when I was an intern and he told me to play it all the way through."

"Jesus that's rough."

"Depends on how you look it. Guess I got on the lighter end than you did cause he's always had a soft spot for me. But his heart's always in the right place when he mentors. Just ask his son Rufus. That boy takes everything after his father. Not just his looks but his talent too."

"Yeah. Roger has given me some good pointers on how to strike the cymbals on a certain song. Or how to properly spin the drumsticks."

"Knowing how to keep the heartbeat going. The drums are the center of the band. If one beat is off, the entire song can go to shit."

"That was always his number one rule to playing the drums. Drilled that into my head every time." I sighed reminiscing the old days of my tutorial sessions with my dad. "So he really was like your father?"

"Yeah. Out of all the members of Queen, Roger was the one I was drawn to the most. It also helped that he loved me just as much as I did him. Always there to comfort me at my lowest moments, but there to celebrate and keep me grounded when I was higher than a kite. Roger Taylor has and will always be my papa lion."

"That's so cute you guys called each other that. Anytime you came up in conversation, Roger always called you his lion cub."

"Either that or his lioness. Lioness is more for the moments when my true strength comes into play and I do something world changing. Lion cub is like a private thing between us. God I can't believe I confessed to him being a lion to me when I was drunk. But if I'm being honest, I don't regret it."

"I can see you don't, my little lion cub." I looked at him and he just gave me Roger's cheeky grin and that familiar twinkle in his eyes just made my heart flutter.

"Cheeky." I grinned. He smiled and shrugged playfully.

Yeah I know he may not look exactly like Roger when I met him but there are some mannerisms that Ben has that just made me think of my adoptive father.

We continued to walk into the cottage cause I wanted to see what they did to the inside of it. There I saw Rami sitting by the piano in the now wearing the long black hair that Fred had at the time. Jesus without the tache, he looked more like Freddie than I could ever imagine.

However that happiness soon turned to dread and absolute disgust as soon coming right beside Rami was a young man who looked like someone who I had loathed my entire life. The one man who made my life a living hell throughout my years with Queen, the poison who nearly destroyed Queen and exposed my secret to the boys.

It was Paul Prenter.

Rami and Paul were chatting away with each other and I felt sick to my stomach.

"(Y/n)? You okay?" Ben asked me.

"Excuse me." I muttered as I passed him. I trudged right over towards Rami and shielded him. "Stay. Away. From him you snake!"

"E-excuse me?" he asked confused. "I don't know what you're talking about." Typical Prenter.

"Don't play games with me Prenter! You might've fooled Freddie once but you will not do it again! I lost him because of you. You ruined his life! And I swear to you I will make you pay for it. I'm not that little girl anymore!"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n) calm down. He's not really Paul Prenter." Rami tried to reason with me.

"Freddie please I'm doing this to protect you!" I then gripped the collar of Paul's shirt and dragged him aside. "You lying son of a bitch! How dare you show yourself again!"

"Wait! Wait I'm not Paul Prenter!"

"STOP LYING TO ME!!!"

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) (M/N) KLINE LET. HIM GO!!" I turned to see Brian as well as Joe, Gwilym and Ben along with some of the crew staring at me. Brian stomped towards me and pulled me away from Paul and he said to me in a stern voice. "The real Paul Prenter is dead. He's been dead just as long as Freddie has. That's an actor playing him. Alan Leech."

My adrenaline came down and when I looked at 'Prenter' again to see that it wasn't the Paul Prenter I knew. For one thing this guy was much younger, the tache wasn't as thick as Paul's was, and his eyes weren't as cold as I remembered Prenter's, they shown with absolute fear.

Oh god.....what have I done? I collapsed to the ground trembling with regret as tears formed in my eyes. I buried my face into my arms as I softly wept. It was then I felt Brian's arms wrap around me, his head gently resting on top of mine as he rocked me slowly while I wept.

*3rd Person POV*

Rami, Joe, Gwilym and Ben looked at each other before turning towards Allen who spoke not a word but was just as worried as the four main ensemble cast was. Rami first tried to approach (y/n) but Brian looked up at him and put his hand up and shook his head.

After she went silent, Brian helped her stand up and he walked her over to the car. He allowed her to just sit there and have some time to herself. Once he shut the door, the young actors walked up to Brian and Joe asked.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"With time. Allen I apologize ever so much but you can't blame (y/n). The real Paul Prenter he—put her through hell when she started off as an intern. One thing he did was extremely unforgivable that I don't see why we ever kept him around."

"Brian, she uhh—I know I shouldn't say this but when she was trying to defend me from Paul, she—actually called me Freddie." Brian sighed solemnly and said.

"She still blames herself."

"What do you mean?" asked Gwilym.

"Come with me lads." Brian led them over to the cottage porch and all of them sat down along either the railings, the porch swing or on the two chairs that were out. "As you know everyone in Freddie's life suffered after his death. Some of us still grieve the way we do like Roger and myself. And there are some who became so fragile like Deacy. (Y/n).....she's always lied on the in between stage. She misses Freddie beyond anything no mistake about that, but then there are days when she blames herself."

"Blames herself?" Rami asked.

"Yes. See, when Freddie first told us that he was diagnosed with AIDS. He wanted to keep it away from (y/n), because her career was skyrocketing, plus she had her own family to look after with Kelly and the twins. Freddie didn't want her to worry about him, but one year when we were all in Montreux recording our last album Innuendo, (y/n) allowed us to stay at a vacation house of hers that she had there. That's when she began to deduce just what was wrong with Fred. He told Roger and myself that the poor dear had blamed herself for not being there for him. Because—well truthfully there was a fallout with Queen and the Rock Angel for a time. Now whether we make that into the film is unknown I know writers are always doing rewrites. But she felt like had she stepped up to Prenter or held onto Freddie just a bit longer before turning her back on him, he would've been alive today."

"Jesus." Muttered Ben.

"Poor lass." Allen muttered.

"But she couldn't have known. None of you did."

"And we didn't. Because Fred didn't want anyone to know. It was his personal business and his alone. And although (y/n) says she accepts that it wasn't her fault, there are some days where she says it is. And any reminder of it just sometimes makes her snap."

"I don't blame her. I—I know exactly what she's going through because of my dad's illness. Anything regarding glioblastoma and I just freak out. But—thanks to these guys I.....don't know where I would be."

"We're here for you mate." Gwil said as he patted Joe's knee.

"So you see guys, this film is bringing back a lot of memories for her. Good and bad. So Allen I really hope you don't take offense to what just happened."

"Not at all Brian. Besides after hearing and probably thinking what the real Paul Prenter did, no wonder why she would get defensive around Rami. I hold no grudge against her."

"Thank you. Just—give her time to cool down and then you all can go see her." The five boys nodded in agreement and took the guitarist's word.

*My POV*

After a while once I calmed down and decided I needed to find young Allen Leech and apologize for my erratic behavior. I got out of the car and dapped my eyes with a handkerchief and walked towards the barn.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Kline. We're—not sure it's a good idea for you to be here right now." Said one of the crew members. That's understandable, I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"It's not that we don't want you here it's just that, well after seeing what happened between you and Mr. Leech. We—think it'd be best if you were to not be on the set for a while." I sighed and said.

"I understand. I was way out of line. But—can you please express my deepest apologizes to Mr. Leech. As well as the boys."

"You can tell me that yourself." An Irish voice spoke up. It was then I looked up to see the five boys themselves.

"You're not going anywhere." Said Rami.

"Mr. Malek, we....."

"We heard what you said dear. Now step away from our Rock Angel so that the six of us may talk." He came up and took my hand and the boys took me into the cottage.

We came into the kitchen area and Rami gestured for me to sit down. Joe pulled out a chair and I sat down while the boys surrounded me.

"Boys; I—what you all had to witness, I have no excuse for my behavior. I am ashamed that you all had to see me act like that. Especially you Allen dear. I—hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive me."

"I do. Seeing me remind you of someone who—was just known to be such an arsehole and black sheep in Queen's circle, I can see why you acted the way you did. I would've done the same thing too had I seen someone I hate come back and standing before someone who was once a dear friend of mine." Allen said. He came up to me and extended his hand.

"Why don't we forget this whole mess ever happened and start over? Hello Rock Angel, my name's Allen Leech." I looked up at him and smiled as I took his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Allen darling. And please like I've told these guys, call me (y/n)." he smiled and that's when I stood up and hugged Allen and he hugged me back.

"Aww now that's sweet." Rami cooed.

"We're all friends now." Joe said with a smile.

"Yes. We're all friends. Now get in here you lot, group hug boys!" they all laughed and cheered as we all came together and group hugged each other. Forming a new bond and a new start with one another.

Thankfully the studio actually managed to let me stay the rest of the day after that whole fiasco (all thanks to the boys but mostly Allen for agreeing to not press charges on me for assault). Of course they warned me that with another outburst like that, not only would I not be allowed on set again, my consultant position would be taken away.

So I was more well behaved than usual after hearing that I would be kicked off the set.

Right now the lads were recording Gwilym's bit for the guitar solo, but what was cool was that the crew decided to allow Brian to play the solo for the fun of it. So as the playback of Freddie's voice came on, Gwilym stepped aside while Brian came in his spot and began playing his guitar solo.

I stood beside Gwilym as we both observed Brian playing the famed Bohemian Rhapsody guitar solo. I even took my phone out and took a video of what was going on. After the solo, Gwilym walked over to Brian and I made sure to get both of them in the shot.

"That's brilliant. I love that." Rami's voice spoke as Freddie from the other side of the recording studio.

"So now what?" asked Gwilym.

"The operatic section." Said Rami. Both Gwilym and Bri nodded. A grin spreading across Gwilym's face as he muttered.

"Ah-huh. The operatic section. Good."

"Of course." Brian said. Jesus just seeing them like this and hearing the same voice come out of them, it really was like we took Bri back from 1975 and brought him here.

When Dexter Fletcher called cut, I stopped my video and said.

"Oh man Jack's gonna flip when he sees this."

"Is he ever gonna come by for a visit?" Brian asked me.

"Yeah I myself would like to meet the famous Jack Kline." Joe said from the other side of the booth.

"Well unlike us where we know when our schedules begin, law enforcement doesn't get days off. Especially when he's going for the Chief's chair. But who knows maybe he might come by for a day if not a few hours."

"I hope so. It's been awhile since we've seen that husband of yours." Brian told me.

"Yeah, I know. Jack misses coming in every day just like the old days."

"I'll bet he does. Or he just misses seeing the love of his life perform and rehearse. Back in the day when you kids first started dating, he'd always have that puppy love look in his eyes as he watched up on stage. Remember the time in Seattle?"

"That was in Houston, Bri. If you're meaning the time he was so distracted by watching me that he almost ended up tripping over the stage, that was in Houston, Texas."

"Oh yeah that's right."

"Alright we've had our fun, now let's do this for real. Gwilym get to your mark. Brian and (y/n), gonna have to ask you both to get out of the shot frame please."

"Good luck Gwilym dear." I said as I gave him a peck on the cheek for luck as Brian handed him his original red special and we both walked out of the frame and stood behind the camera.

The day continued on filming the boys recording the famed song that this movie was named after and I swear to you, it was like I was seeing history happen. Like I was transported back in time to the summer of 1975 and seeing my boys (just five years before they even became my boys, back when I was just one of their millions of fans) record one of my favorite albums.

And even seeing the struggle and perfectionism that Freddie had for this song. Rami truly brought Freddie's perfectionist behavior right onto the camera and it just—had me bewildered. It was like I was seeing Freddie again, hard at work on his masterpiece.

After a long day's filming, Brian and I unfortunately had to head back to the city to actually record an album together that he was helping me produce. Since touring was over for now, the boys and I (yes including Adam) we were all focusing on our solo stuff now till the next tour came around.

And since Bri had some free time after working with a talented young woman, I had asked him to come help produce my latest album 'Resurrection'. Ever since hearing about the Queen film and also hearing that Elton as well was going to make a biopic film, the title was named in honor of their upcoming films.

Because it would show a whole new generation of audiences what their stories were and show them that like a phoenix, Queen and Elton will resurrect because you can't keep down true legendary artists.

So for about 2 weeks Brian helped produce the album and of course he and I would post on our Instagram accounts both pictures of brief videos of some behind the scenes stuff of our partnership together.

"And there she is. Working diligently as ever." I heard Bri said. I looked up from my I-Pad to see him holding his phone, probably taking a video for his collection package he likes to do on certain events on his Instagram.

"Yes and I thought you'd be helping me too."

"I am. I'm your publicity for now, then I'll go back to being your producer." I smiled and laughed as Brian chuckled. He turned his phone onto him as he spoke to his Instagram followers, "As you can see we're both working extremely hard. Now we can't give too much away, but you can expect this album to be just as powerful as her previous albums in the past."

"But we unfortunately have to go now, our special guest on the album has just arrived and like Bri said, I never give away spoilers." I said as I came in the shot now.

"Okay well you heard the Angel ladies and gents, this is us signing off till next time. Bye."

"Bye!" Brian turned off the video camera and exited his account. And just as he pocketed his phone away, my special guest came in through the doors.

"(Y/n)!"

"Pink, my sister how have you been?" Yep you read right. I had reached out to the one and only Pink to come sing a duet with me. For years since she came up on the market, people have confused our voices cause she and I had the same powerful low range vocals.

Our first time doing a duet was—oh gosh I wanna say very early 2000's. I wanna say even just shortly after the 9-11 attack. I wanted to bring up an album that would spark some life and hope into the people of America, my in-laws especially cause when we lost Jared and Gen, the whole family felt like it was gonna come apart.

I auditioned several young female artists to sing along with me but their voices just either weren't right for the album or they sounded too nasally. But when this young woman at the time, an artist barely known came along, it blew me away at how our voices could mold well together.

So with me singing in a higher range and her taking the low range we launched the song 'Death by bombs, (live by hope)'. It was at the #1 charts in America for the entirety of the New York cleanup and became a national anthem. Pink and I were even asked for several years to sing the song every 9-11 for about 9 years.

Now here we are again six years after our last collaboration.

"You ready to do this?" I asked her.

"Angel, I was born ready. Anytime to sing with you is always gonna be a good one."

"Alright then ladies, step into the booth and let's get this song rolling."

"You got it Brian." Pink said enthusiastically as she and I walked with an arm wrapped around each other's shoulders and we walked into the booth together to begin our work.

Another week passed and when I received a message from Ben Hardy telling me that they were about to start filming my all time favorite music video 'I want to break free' I was on the first flight back to England (since I was recording the album in America) to see the shooting for myself.

I walked through the studio and everything came flooding back. The extras in the cow patterned leotards, the design of the music video set but it wasn't until I saw Joe dressed in the same granny attire that Deacy wore that hit me with pure nostalgia.

"Oh my god nana Johanna I did not know you were still alive." I said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, yeah hahaha very funny." Joe sneered.

"No, no Joe don't take my comment as an insult. You look—every ounce from what I remember Deacy looking like the day I came by with my wedding invitations."

"You were passing out wedding invitations during this music video?" he asked me. I nodded with a hum.

"Jack and I decided to come by to see the guys cause I wanted to deliver their invitations personally. And also ask them to walk me down the aisle since—well you probably know."

"Yeah I get it." He said as he came up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "So you really think I looked exactly like John did?"

"Absolutely. All that's missing is a crying girl crying out 'where's daddy! Where's daddy! That's not my daddy'."

"Okay this could be my dirty mind but that sounded—" I playfully slapped him in the back of the head.

"You're right to get your head out of the gutters young man! I was referring to his daughter Laura. I mean I wasn't there to see it, but Veronica had told me just shortly after the shoot that she had brought the kids over to see their father. Of course Michael and Robert were hysterical with laughter, but poor little Laura who was only 4 at the time was crying cause she didn't recognize her dad."

"Awww well if you wanna recreate it, I can call my sister and get my niece on Facetime to see if it'll work."

"As much as I would love to see that, let's not scar your niece up for life. But yeah, Laura kept denying that the old granny was her dad. Until he took off the wig and she recognized her daddy's fluffy hair."

"That is literally the most adorable thing I've ever heard."

"I know. Laura was a sweet kid. She was the one most attached to me when I first met her. She even recreated a bit of my song for my birthday when she was just 3 years old."

"Okay (y/n) seriously stop you're gonna give me cavities at this point." I laughed and said.

"Alright now show me the rest of the boys, I want to see them."

"They all look amazing. Except for Ben." I looked at him skeptically but he just took my hand and led me towards the kitchen part of the set. There I saw Rami by the table in the pink shirt and leather black skirt, sporting the 1950's hairdo and nails that Freddie wore that day. Gwilym by the fridge in the pink nightie and bunny slippers, along with the curlers, and of course Ben in the 'Rogerina' getup.

The same style wig, the schoolgirl outfit with the leggings, the heels. Wow he looked more of a Rogerina than the real Roger did for this music video.

I let out a wolf whistle and that's when the three of them turned towards me.

"Rogerina has returned. The women who makes men drool at her feet and women turn for her. And if my son Freddie were here, honey you would most certainly turn him."

"God (y/n) please stop embarrassing me." Ben whined.

"I shall not. My cousin Rogerina was the talk of the town back home. Of course along with Aunt Brianna and Fairy godmother Frida."

"Is that what you really called the guys when you saw them like this?" asked Gwilym.

"Who do you think started the trend names? Freddie's was—kinda last minute since....well due to certain things going on at that time. But really you guys, I love each and every one of you."

"I'm still disappointed in Ben's look." Joe bluntly stated.

"And why's that?"

"His thighs are too big. Too much rugby."

"Yes Joe I know. I've been trying to slim down as best I could but these thighs man!"

"Not everyone can please everybody Ben. But trust me when I say, fans will love this and will love you as Rogerina. Plus I think you look absolutely beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"Hell yeah. You're still prettier than I am."

"Oh come on now that's never gonna happen. You are an eternal beauty."

"That's what I've been telling her for years." A voice said behind us. No way. It—it couldn't be. I turned around and my ears weren't deceiving me at all.

Dressed in grey shirt with a dark color blazer and dark blue jeans, the greying of his once blonde hair but those warm eyes of his were unmistakable. A wide smile spread across my face as I laughed out and walked towards him.

"Jack!" I hugged him and he hugged me back. I separated but kept my arms wrapped around his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"The case got solved so I figured might as well put some time off and see just what you and Freddie were talking about. So I called up Roger and asked him where the filming was at, and here I am."

"Ohhh you." I leaned forward and we gave each other a loving kiss.

"Awww." We separated from each other and I cleared my throat.

"Whoa. Okay did we just transport back in time?" asked Jack.

"No love. Boys, I'd like you to meet my husband and the love of my life for over 30 years, Jack Kline. Jack, this is Rami Malek, Gwilym Lee, Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy." I pointed to each of the actors individually.

"It's a pleasure to meet you boys." Jack said with a wave.

"Believe us, it's an honor to meet you Mr. Kline. Brian, Rog and (y/n) have told us many stories about you." said Rami.

"Oh god, if Roger was telling the stories he made me look bad didn't he?" I playfully slapped his chest.

"Not all the time." replied Ben.

"In all seriousness, I must say.....wow this is....."

"I know right? Oh darling just wait till you see the Live Aid sequence Brian managed to record. Don't they just look the part?"

"Yeah. So much so that it's almost scary."

"Ohh and Jack dear, you remember back when George and Jackson were obsessed with Jurassic Park?"

"Lord do I ever. They practically ruined the tape." He said with a groan.

"Well—Joe here, played the young boy Tim in the film." I then saw Jack's jaw drop as he turned towards Joe.

"So you're—you were....."

"Yep. I was little Tim Murphy in Jurassic Park. My first major gig that got my name out there."

"Wow. And seeing you now dressed like this it—you look so much like him." Jack said in awe. I turned to Joe with a 'told you so' look.

"Yeah it was scary to see just how much I looked like him. I even asked my mom if she was up to anything around 1983." Jack laughed.

The rest of the day was spent seeing the boys perform the music video, as well as a couple more stage concerts from both the 70's and 80's. When Jack got to see these four young actors in full Queen costume and hair/makeup, he was blown away. As we were in the back of the extras who were the crowd, Jack kept his arms around me as we watch in awe.

His head leaning against mine as we watched Rami literally become Freddie with every strut, head turn and bent back, se saw Gwilym play a model of the red special guitar just how Brian is known for, Ben working hard in the back with the drums literally playing just like how Roger is known to play. But I know that out of the four of them, Jack was beyond amazed at seeing Joe Mazzello play his former mentor and idol John 'Disco' Deacy.

His bass playing and even doing the funky little moves that John as known to do on a more upbeat song like 'Fat Bottomed girls,' or 'We will Rock you'. We clapped along with the extras and cheered for them. I knew that with what I've seen so far, this movie was going to be—sensational. Just like the band themselves.

Later that night after wrapping for the day, Jack and I were now at home getting ready for bed.

"So, what did you think of it?"

"They picked the right actors. And the right team to work on it. You were right (y/n)."

"Of course I am." I teased.

"Don't get cheeky with me love, you know what I mean. This movie it—it's everything I hoped it would be. I just wonder if—he would've loved it." I looked at my husband empathetically and said so

"He does." I looked out towards the window up at the stars and continued, "They both do." I felt Jack wrap his arm around me and the two of us cuddled up close together and fell right asleep after a long and busy day.

[theprophetsaid]

yeah i think it all adds up considering the time he proposed and got married. He proposed and got engaged in the beginning of the new year in 1976, presumably after the success of borhap and ANATO, and then married in May 1976. then he got the house in Barnes with Chrissie by the end of 1976. it seems like Queen got their first gigantic breakthrough in 1975, and that’s when he saw the golden opportunity to finally rush to get married and settle down like his father wanted with a bit of financial stability or at least some reassurance that the band was at an upward trajectory and not completely heading nowhere. that he could get married, get a house, have children and provide for his family. i wonder if he would’ve broken up with Chrissie some time down the line if he hadn’t married her so early and just stayed as live-in partners, instead of forcing himself to stay in the marriage later so as to not disrupt the stability they had. but then they also had to think about the children. maybe he still would’ve stayed for the children, maybe he would’ve seen it easier to leAve if he weren’t bound by a contract and the trappings that come with marriage at the time, even by the time they’ve got children. it’s all very complicated and i can’t imagine how hard it must have been for all parties.

I agree with a lot of this, but Brian actually married Chrissy in 1974, not 1976, so it was even earlier, probably some time after their first American tour. Brian has said that it was on that tour that he was first introduced to the "Rock Lifestyle" and got very overwhelmed by it all (especially the sex). So 1974 was indeed not a good time to get married, but he probably didn't know that at the time that he proposed to Chrissy, which (I'm guessing) must've been in 1973.

But yeah, Brian got married and then the next step to becoming a family man was obviously to have kids. And by the time Jimmy and Louisa were born, I think Brian really wanted to make the marriage work for his kids' sake. At the same time he found it hard to stay faithful because he felt emotionally needy on tour, which probably led to a lot of self-loathing. It's just a bad situation that could've perhaps been avoided if he hadn't felt pressured to marry in the first place...

EDIT: It might’ve actually been in 1976. The sources on this are conflicting and I don’t think Brian has ever actually mentioned the exact year himself, so who really knows?? The general point still stands, though.

[lonelyasawhisper]

hi! do u know when did brian marry chrissy? some people say it was 1974 and others say 1977 so idk. do u also know the date?

Hello! Sorry for my belated response. I doubt I know any more than anyone else on here. I’ve seen sources that say 1974 and also 1976. Somebody To Love says 1974, shortly after they returned to London after the Sunbury Music Festival that took place on 25-28th January, 1974. Is This The Real Life says May 1976. Laura Jackson’s Brian bio says they got engaged at the beginning of the New Year of 1976, and married on 29th May.

Personally, I’m inclined to say 1976, just because sources that say 1976 usually include the actual date and venue - St Osmund’s Roman Catholic Church in Barnes. And I think it makes more sense, considering Queen had their breakthrough with BoRhap/ANATO in late 1975. They were still quite poor in 1974 compared to 1976. But it could be either really.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)  

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.  

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

[angrylizardjacket]

only fools {Dominique Beyrand}

Summary: You’re in love with Roger’s new girlfriend. Is it easier to pretend you don’t have feelings or come clean? You say both, eventually! The truth is bittersweet.

A/N: 4331 words. ANGST!! I don’t know much abt Dominique so this is based 100% on borhap, tho there’s a few bits abt the band from real life, but its borhap based for the most part. i hope you like it!! i’m pretty sure the reader is gender neutral, but there may be 1 or 2 female pronouns accidentally. there’s mentions of cheating.

----

You’ve been friends with Queen for arguably too long, know them now in excruciating and almost intimate detail, and are absolutely immune to their various charms and stardom. It started in university, with you as a popular radio jockey on campus, and living in a flat around the corner from Freddie and Roger’s little market stall in Kensington. 

You know of their band, of course, you’ve always got your ear to the ground for local talent, and you jokingly tell them that if they ever get an album together, you’d be the the first to play it. A year and a half later, they hold you to that. 

When they’re making it big in the mid-70s, and you’ve scored your own show on an actual radio station, they start turning to you when they want to release a single, or give an interview, and people start asking why. You simply shrug and smile, which is easier than explaining that you’d spent a good deal of your second year of uni bothering Freddie and Roger at their stall instead of doing your homework, and somehow that became a friendship, and now you and John have tea every Monday afternoon, and Brian tried to teach you guitar once, but ended up waxing poetic about his thesis when you noted that his desk was rather messy.

So yes, you know them rather well, since the start of the band’s musical career, in fact, and have witness, and occasional party to, some of their dumber, post-gig antics, which has given you both regrets, and immunity to their antics. Never again will you be Roger’s look out when he climbs to a third story balcony for a girl - he lost a shoe on the second floor and it hit you in the back of the head. Prick. 

Which makes it rather unfortunate that you’ve taken such a liking to his latest girlfriend. At first you tell yourself that it’s simple and platonic appreciation for another individual with a head on their shoulders, that you liked her in the same way that you like John or Brian when they were being sensible. When you go out with the band, which isn’t a lot these days, but still it’s enough, she seems to make a point of including you, of smiling at you like a friend though you barely know each other. 

Always, she is by Roger’s side, and you think this is the first time you’ve seen him properly smitten, which makes it ache, in such a strange way, when she smiles back at him. You’ve never felt like this over Chrissie, or Veronica, or Mary. But you push it down, and when they invite you to go to their concerts, you find yourself in the wings by her side, and you dance with her at the afterparties when she offers her hand, and she invites you to lunch to catch up every few weeks.

It’s perfectly harmless, you tell yourself as you actively repress the strange sort of desire she unknowingly elicits from you. 

There’s something about her, beyond a pretty face, and a vicious smile, more than her sharp wit and dangerously intoxicating perfume, like she could ask you to walk over hot coals and you’d crawl to make her happy.

When she laughs over lunch, like actually laughs, full-bellied, head thrown back, glowing in the afternoon sunshine at something you’d said, you suddenly remember every stupid and horny antic Roger has ever been party to, often at the expense of whatever girl he was meant to be seeing at the time, and you want to tell Dominique to run fast and far, to try and protect her. But Roger’s told you he’s changed, that he’s in love, and you grit your teeth.

You’re kind of fucked.

And there��s no-one in your life who you can talk to without being judged for feeling like this. 

So you take what you can get. 

You go out with the band when they invite you, you catch up with Dom often when they go on tour, and you realise, with a strange and painful clarity, that she’s become your best friend.

“How come you’ll agree to help Dom with shenanigans, but not me?” Roger plays at being jealous of your not-so-secret favoritism, his arm around Dominique in a hotel bar that had been closed for a private, Queen function, currently buzzing with the band members, their various significant others, members of the press, members of their tour group, and management team. And you. 

You and Dominique share an amused, almost conspiratorial look. 

“Because I actually like her,” you tell Roger, flatly, and he raises is eyebrows when you look back at him. You don’t miss Dominique’s pleased little smile that she hides in her glass.

“That’s just about the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he shakes his head, clearly not actually taking your words to heart, but you huff a laugh.

“And her shenanigans never landed me in the emergency room -”

“Hey, I was the one with the sprained ankle -”

“You acted like you were dying, Rog,” you sighed deeply, “you tried to bribe me to run a red light,” and Dominique gives her boyfriend a surprised, vaguely judgmental look as Roger quickly turned pink.

“I was in grave pain.”

“Darling, you are a grave pain,” Dominique told him sweetly, and Roger pressed his hand to his chest, scandalised. 

“Et tu, my love?” 

But Dominique’s looking at him all fond and sappy when she tells him that you’ve got a point; you excuse yourself right as Roger lowers his voice and reminds her that there’s times she seems to think he’s pretty great, voice laced with heavy innuendo. 

You’re discussing the band’s latest album with their sound tech when Dominique finds you again, looking recently debauched, lips all kiss-bruised despite her fresh coat of lipstick. You quietly and desperately wish you would have been the cause of her unkempt state, the sight alone making you want to do unseemly things to her. 

“Sorry about that, Roger had a point to prove,” she says lightly, as if nothing had happened, and she snakes her arm through yours as she joins the conversation.

“Did he prove it?” You asked flatly, if only to play along for her benefit. Her cheeks flushed for a moment as she cleared her throat, looking over her shoulder.

“Twice,” she had to try and hide her grin from the scandalized sound tech. When you followed her gaze, your eyes met Roger’s; he’s so damn smug. You felt like you were going to put your fist through a wall.

The next time you caught up with Dom, however, a few days later, she apologises again, looking guilty for reasons you can’t quite understand.

“Why are you apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured her, gently putting your hands on hers over the table; when she meets your gaze over the table, she blinks quickly, processing the information. 

“I just felt like I should,” even she doesn’t know why she’s apologising again, “it wasn’t... it was inappropriate.” She finally settles on, and you give a fond, if longsuffering smile.

“When’s Roger ever appropriate at a party?”

“I suppose,” she still looks unsure, however, but the waiter comes over and the ordeal is forgotten. 

Except that it’s not. There’s something new in the way she looks at you, almost hesitant, faintly apologetic, and even a little confused. It’s not something you’re used to, Dominique’s always been endlessly confident and forthright, she’s never been cautious in the history of your friendship.

“I’m worried you think less of me,” she says, blunt as always, when you finally ask what’s wrong.

“Dom, nothing you could do would ever make me think less of you,” you tell her with probably too much honesty. After a moment spent mulling your words over, she moves closer on your plush little sofa, until her leg pressed flush against yours.

“I care about you a great deal,” she tells you, with her own sudden burst of honesty, “and it’s been rough with Roger on tour; I don’t think I could have gotten through it half as well without you,” and she’s looking at you, almost nothing in her expression, like she’s gauging your reaction to let her know how to feel about all of this. 

You’re absolutely terrified she can read every feeling and emotion as it passes through you at her words, and the I want to kiss you to make you shut up about your stupid boyfriend that’s flashing like a neon sign at the front of your brain. 

“I care about you too,” is what you manage after a beat of panicked hesitation, trying not to act as flustered as you feel. Her smile is warm and confident, however, and she thanks you gently, turning back to the TV that had become white noise in your ears. You spend a good few moments more just watching her, wondering what that was all about, before she leans against you, and you just kind of have to accept it.

But there’s something different now, a new energy between you both when you spend time together; she’s more tactile, more prone to staying with you at events, more likely to pick you, you realise.

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend?” Roger once jokes, and you try not to let your panic show.

“If I was, you’d deserve it,” you laugh, but his expression scrunches up, reading the insult and implications in your words. You get the feeling Roger doesn’t much like you anymore.

But Dominique’s skin is always warm against yours, her hand in yours when strolling about the city, and you get lost in her perfume and her laughter, and some nights she comes over while Roger’s away, and you get tipsy together while watching TV or listening to music, and she’ll curl into your touch and whisper you’re too good to me like it’s a guilty secret the rest of the world can’t hear. She sleeps on your sofa rather than going home to the luxurious, empty bed she shares with Roger, and in the morning you wake to her humming and making breakfast. 

There’s something so domestic about it, and she’ll smile at you, sipping tea in the kitchen, and your heart will melt. 

You want to be allowed to love her, but Roger will always come home. 

Once, twice, a slow song will play on the radio, and she’ll ask you to dance, wrapping herself up in you as you sway in your living room, both of you drunk on a Sunday evening, her breathing slow and even, her eyes closed, and you wonder what she’s picturing. Maybe her boyfriend. Fiancé. Fuck.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes her hands holding your face to register that you’d both stopped moving. Her smile is soft, eyes warm.

“You’d look beautiful in a ball gown,” she says with quiet adoration, and before you can process that that was what she was thinking, your body’s moved of it’s own accord, and you’re kissing her. 

And she’s kissing you back, tasting like wine and fruit, lips soft and gentle, fitting against yours perfectly. She sighs softly against your lips, hands coming to fist in the collar of your shirt as she pulls you closer and I love you tumbles involuntarily from your lips. She pauses.

“I know,” her voice is gently apologetic, barely more than a whisper, “I’m sorry.” You can see she wants to say more, wants to kiss you again, like she wants to live in this moment before it had suddenly turned sour. Her I love you too goes unspoken, but she cups your face in her hands again, thumbs running across your cheeks, across the sudden, faint shock and sorrow written in your expression. She doesn’t step back, she doesn’t even try. 

“I should go.”

“Do you want to go?” You ask, voice soft, the words barely registering to your own ears. There’s a long moment of silence as she considers, weighs her options, hesitates before kissing you again. It hurts, it’s a uniquely masochistic form of torture you’re putting yourself through, but she stays, and the next day you both act like nothing happened.

She’ll make breakfast, smile at you over tea, and in a few months, she’ll marry Roger. 

You’re not invited to the wedding, and part of you is grateful. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me not to go through with it?” She half jokes over coffee a few days before, which shocks you.

“Why?” You’re concerned rather than amused, and she looks a little guilty when she meets your gaze.

“I- do you... still have feelings for me?” She asks, uncertain, and you sigh deeply, sitting back in your chair.

“Do you love Roger, Dom?”

“Of course,” she answers immediately, a little defensive, which seems strange given the situation, but she thaws and takes a long sip of her drink, “I do, I really do.” She admits, sounding almost disappointed in herself.

“Then it doesn’t matter what I feel; do what makes you happy.” You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’d lost to Roger a long time ago; brief affair aside, you don’t want to make Dominique question her world so close to her happy ending. 

So you pointedly don’t ask how she feels about you.

According to the photos in the tabloid, it’s a beautiful wedding, and Dominique and Roger make a picture perfect couple. You spend three days in your house, wrapped in a blanket in front of your TV; you don’t take the phone off the hook in case work calls, but Dom’s on her honeymoon, so you’re not expecting to get any calls from her. 

There’s a full month of radio silence while she’s being whisked off to somewhere romantic, and it’s the longest the two of you have gone without talking since you’d met. The minute she gets back, however, she calls and asks you to lunch, but hesitates, adding that if you didn’t want to -

“Of course I want to!” You’re delighted to hear from her, and only realise once you hang up how much it’s going to hurt. 

Her wedding ring catches the light and you want to immediately flee to the Scottish highlands and become a goat farmer and never talk to another living person again at the sight of it. You smile, and hug her in greeting.

You talk about work, both yours and hers, and about how Freddie’s buying a mansion in London, and how cute John’s kids are, and about everything but the very recent wedding she’d gone through, or the husband she now has.

This time, when you take her hand to traverse the city together, you feel the cold metal of her wedding ring, and something inside you dies, just a little. It’s like she can tell, however, because she immediately skirts around you to take your other hand, tucking you close. And you let her. Every time, you let her. 

Nothing happens between you both, nothing like before, but she still comes over when Roger’s on tour, still sleeps on your sofa, still spends time with you around her busy work schedule, and it hurts to see her hurting, when she gets tired and lets slip about the rumours she’s heard. Apart from one night, she’s practically been a saint to the drummer; his record, however does not appear to be so clean. But she puts on a brave face, and he always comes home.

Freddie throws a party in the early eighties, dressed in a crown and cape, he’s invited everyone remotely outlandish in London, so it seems, and of course his band, and you. You find them all on a cluster of gilded sofas, looking already worn out by the whole affair, despite everyone partying around them. But Dominique brightens when she sees you, and pulls you in to the conversation. Roger, already in a mood, does not even look at you as the rest of the band greets you warmly where you’ve perched on the arm of the sofa by Dominique, her free hand coming up to rest on your thigh. 

They’re teasing Roger about his car song again, which you refrain from, not that you don’t love teasing him about that ridiculous song, but you’re also pretty sure that if you speak to him, he’ll throw his drink at you. 

But Freddie joins them, too exuberant by half for the muted mood of the band amidst the partygoers, and Roger’s ready to leave when Freddie makes a comment that turns your blood to ice.

“Loyalty’s so important, don’t you think Dominique?” 

The world around you fades away to her reaction. No-one’s looking at you, they’re all looking to Roger, because it’s an implicit confirmation of the hoards of rumours Dominique’s been trying to live in denial regarding. 

“Watch it,” Roger warns his bandmate, and Dominique looks pissed, but for the barest moment, she casts her gaze over her shoulder, to you, and you can read the heartbreak in her eyes. 

You wish you’d told her to run years ago after all. 

You wish you’d never believed that Roger had changed.

You wish you’d told her not to go through with the wedding.

You wish a lot of things in that moment. 

But there’s no time, and she’s gone with Roger, both of them furious for different reasons, while your heart lays beating in the seat she’d just left. Looking around, your head is full of a fog in the wake of Freddie’s words, and their departure, and it’s like no-one else can see that your whole world has gone to Hell.

“I need to stay with you,” Dominique calls you the next day, sniffling, and you’re agreeing readily, asking if she needs a lift over. 

She brings a suitcase, and a tearful apology for barging in like this. You wrap her up in a hug, telling her not to worry, that it’s not a bother and she bursts into tears. You order food and wrap her up in a blanket, and stay by her side until she falls asleep against your shoulder. You carry her into bed, tuck her in, and then grab your jacket and go out.

“I should kick your ass,” you snarl after Roger finally lets you in where you’d been kicking at his front door. He looks disheveled, but not like he’d been sleeping, like he’d been crying.

“Are you here for the rest of her things?” He asks flatly, and you do actually shove him, hard enough that he hits the ground and slides against the tiles.

“You stupid, insensitive fucking asshole!” You yell, fuming, “get up, Roger, get up!” You demand, and he does, slowly.

“I’m not going to fight you; you won, okay? She hates me -”

“And she has every right to, don’t play the fucking victim here, don’t try and act like you weren’t the one to sleep your way across the world while you knew she was waiting for you!” Your lip trembled at the thought of all the late nights you’d spent comforting her, reassuring her that it was just the tabloids taking things out of context, “she loved you so fucking much, you stupid fucking slut!” He laughed humorlessly at that, sitting back down on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest.

“We haven’t loved each other for a long time now.”

“That’s not true.”

“She loves you.” 

“That’s not true.” There’s a wobble to your voice, your fraught emotions turning quickly to desperation. 

“I know you slept together,” he says, finally looking at you, and your mouth snaps shut. He doesn’t seem mad, he doesn’t seem... anything. It’s just a fact, no malice behind it. “She told me the day after it happened,” he paused, “and I told her it was okay, told her I did similar stuff in my youth, but if we loved each other, we’d have to be better people, for each other.”

“And she loved you,” you said with dawning despair, realising what he was implying. He nods, gaze drifting, as if not quite registering everything that was happening, “but you...”

“By my own logic, I was already falling out of love; I was a hypocrite. I am a hypocrite.”

“You’re self aware,” you said, sitting down as the fight left you.

“Not really, she yelled it a good deal at me yesterday. She’s right, though.” He takes a deep breath, resting his chin on his knees as he stares at the other wall. “We used to be friends,” he muses and you hum in response, “we used to be a lot of things; young, broke, nobodies, friends.” He lists, and you agree quietly, “I think I knew you would be better for her, even from the start.”

“You knew I loved her from the start?” You ask, not even trying to deny it, and Roger looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not blind,” he tells you with surprising bitterness, and you clam up at that, “but she loves you because you’re still here, even though she loved me too.”

“Because I’m an idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“Probably,” he agrees, and when you make an indignant noise, he gives a flat look, “you didn’t talk her out of marrying me even though you’re in love with her.” He reminds.

“I never want to be the cause of her unhappiness,” you explain softly, mirroring his sitting position, your chin on your knees. Roger nods, “but you hurt her, and I came here to kick your ass.”

“Will you love her like she deserves?” He asks softly.

“If she wants to come back to you, I won’t stop her.”

“You love her better than I ever could,” Roger says with realisation. You’re not going to disagree with him.

When you get home, she’s still asleep in your bed, and you curl up on the sofa, restless all through the night. Dominique wakes in the morning, and comes out, sees your eyes open, rough from sleeplessness, and tears well in her own as all the memories from yesterday come flooding back. 

“Do you want breakfast?” You ask, voice rough, and she nods. You stand, and head to the kitchen, moving automatically around the little space. She watches, quiet eyes, unsmiling, contemplative, but she’s not crying. 

“What do you want to do today?” You hear yourself asking, voice carefully neutral. 

“Do you... do you still love me?”

You freeze. It takes a moment, but you finally look at her, expression blank. 

“I don’t think this is the time-”

“You’re always telling me to do what makes me happy, asking me what I want, what do you want?”

“I want you to be happy,” you tell her softly; her eyes are getting misty, but she’s still not satisfied with that answer.

“I want you to think about yourself for once; what do you want?”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to organise your thoughts. 

“I want to be able to tell you I love you, and not have you hesitate to say it back -” you admit, but she cuts you off, words quick.

“I love you.”

“I -”

“I love you.”

“Dominique -”

“I love you, and I have for years. I love you.”

“Then why did you marry Roger?!” You finally explode, and her eyes go wide, before he gaze drops to the counter with shame.

“Because I thought it was what I was meant to do; I cared about him a great deal, but we- we weren’t meant for each other. I don’t love him like I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.”

“I don’t want you to be saying this just because you just broke up with him and you’re looking for a rebound or a safety net,” you admit, and she looks at you with a calculating gaze, understanding your hesitation, “I do love you, Dom, and you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, but I don’t want to be with you until you’ve had time to process everything that’s happening. You need time. You’re not in your right mind.”

Dominique swallows hard, nodding very seriously. Her gaze is intense as she watches you get back to making breakfast. Silence hangs in the air, strange, undefinable silence laced with emotions like static electricity. 

“Can I kiss you? Just once?” She asks, and you look at her over your shoulder, spatula in one hand, a warning in your voice when you say her name, “just once.” She promises, eyes wide and the barest of smiles on her lips. You could never say no to that smile. You turn down the stove for just a moment, and step up to the counter, leaning over it to meet her. 

Kissing her feels like coming home and freedom at the same time, and she’s warm when she brings her hand up to your cheek, humming with tentative joy against your lips. When you pull back, you let yourself linger, just inches from her, getting lost in her eyes, in her smile for the barest moment.

“Would you like me to make tea?” She asks, soft, grinning.

“Would love that,” you agree, a little breathless, stepping back to the stove. 

“I don’t...” she paused by the refrigerator, “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to make sense of this, my whole life, I...”

“That’s why we’re waiting; if I’m not what you want, if you go a different direction, if you just wanna be single for a few years and end up meeting someone else, I’ll respect that,” you assure her, “but if I am what you want, Dom I’d wait forever for you.”

[freddiesaysalright]

Masterlist

Here it is y’all! I’ll do my best to update it regularly :)

The numbers refer to my Prompt List

Hallow-Queen Prompts HallowQUEEN Masterlist

Series/Long Fics

My Man (Ben!Roger x Reader) Part I Part II Part III (kinda steamy at the end) Part IV Part V (tw: attempted sexual assault) Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX (smut) Part X Epilogue Bonus Blurb

Catching Up (Joe x Reader) Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI (contains smut) Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI Part XII Part XIII Epilogue

Dancing With Ben (Ben x Reader) Week 1 Week 2 Week 3 Week 4 Week 5 Week 6 Week 7 Week 8 (contains smut) Week 9 Week 10 Week 11 Week 12 Epilogue

I Don’t Like You or Your Band (John Deacon x Reader) Preview Full Fic (contains smut)

Lingerie (Joe Mazzello x Reader) Sneak Peek (smut) Full Fic (smut)

Peace Like A River (Gwilym x Reader) Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX (smut) Part X Part XI Epilogue

Imagines/Requests

Ben Hardy Ben and post-baby reader Ben saves reader from attack at a party (tw: attempted sexual assault) Ben and reader love at first sight (very fluffy) Ben helps reader with a sprained ankle Ben fights with reader about screenshots online Reader sees Ben’s ex on his Insta Reader is daughter of a Hollywood exec Ben and a younger woman Ben falling for a bookshop girl Ben wants to take you on vacation Ben and Filipino reader Running away from your asshole fiance with Ben Trying to start a family with Ben Long distance relationship with Ben (fluffy) 15 and 43 29 and 46 (smut) Introducing his boyfriend to the rest of he BoRhap boys 20, 21, 22 (smut) 1 and 44 (smut) 2 and 25 Dad!Ben (fluffy) Domestic fluff w/ daughter and baby #2 on the way Starring with him in a movie Morning sex with Ben (smut) Telling him you’re pregnant on his birthday Ben and your daughter surprising you on Mother’s Day Getting with Joe’s brother on set What You Deserve Firsts Reuniting after breaking up Misunderstanding you and Roger’s relationship When his fans are rude to you Dating an Australian HCs Dating a punk girl Teaching him drums for BoRhap Coaching your daughter’s soccer team Sub!Ben w/ pegging (smut) Asking you to have a baby with him (smut) Relieving his stress (smut) Comforting you after getting a haircut Asking him to make a sex tape (kinda steamy) Taking care of you after getting your tonsils out

Joe Mazzello Joe and reader find out they’re having twins Joe and reader with PTSD WWI AU with soldier!Joe and nurse!reader (very fluffy) Cheering up Rami’s sister after a breakup Meeting Joe after a long term relationship Drunk crying over Joe Joe helping reader with body image issues Meeting Joe on a blind date Getting with Joe at Rami and Lucy’s wedding (fluffy) A musical proposal Joe comforting you after a nightmare (kinda steamy)  Surprising you at work Comforting you when stress triggers depression Taking a bath with him (steamy) Drunkenly seducing him (steamy) You and Joe having lots of kids + one more 15 and 19 49 and 20 (smut) 40 and 49 36 and 50 21 and 27 (smut) Accidentally revealing you’re pregnant in an interview 28 and 34 41, 44, 23 Joe being clingy in his sleep Neighbor!Joe Romantic dinner away from the kids (steamy) Part II of ^ (smut) Fighting before he goes on a trip Joe wants to move in together but Y/N is hesitant When you’re different from his exes Choosing adoption Taking your grandmother’s ring to propose Celebrating going to college together Taking care of you on your birthday Comforting him after a breakup Proposing to you after a roller coaster Bath bomb proposal (kinda steamy) Morning sex with Joe at your parents’ house (smut) Morning sex interrupted by your baby (smut) Dancing to Somebody to Love at your wedding Baking with him on a lazy weekend Wedding night (smut) Introducing him to Stranger Things He takes you to a Yankees game Dad!Joe on your daughter’s birthday Stargazing with him Sub!Joe (smut) Dancing to Senorita Watching fireworks with him Keeping you up to watch the cricket world cup Starting the family band Aftercare with Joe Going to Burger King at 1AM Falling asleep watching TV Drunk makeout with Joe HCs Comforting you after losing your cat Wanting you to stay in bed with him Being Joe’s stylist (smut) Convincing you to dance with him Playing Just Dance with him Getting together while on vacation (smut) Feeling like you’re not good enough for him Doing a bunch of DIY around the house  Discovering his size kink (smut) Camping adventures Your first time sleeping together (smut) Catching you masturbating (smut) At your wedding reception Rami and Lucy hyping you and Joe up for your first date Falling asleep/waking up next to him HCs (kinda steamy) Distracting you from your yoga (smut) Telling him you want to wait until marriage Embarrassing your kids in front of their friends Going to bed angry HCs Turning him on in public (smut) Saying goodbye before college Drifting apart HCs (angst)

Gwilym Lee Gwilym comforts bartender reader Threesome with Gwilym and Rami (kinda steamy but also not my best work) Gwilym helps reader destress after exams (extremely fluffy) Giving Gwil a strip tease (kinda steamy) Gwil almost makes you watch Child’s Play  Gwil helps reader who is afraid of storms (FLUFFY AS SHIT PROBABLY MY FAVORITE) Gwilym and reader fight before a party Gwilym’s best friend has feelings for him Gwilym comes home after a month away Gwil and reader say goodbye to their dog (PAINFUL) Gwil used to make fun of reader in school Fighting for you at a bar Comforting him through loss of a loved one (fluffy) Playing Chrissy in BoRhap Reader attacked while with Gwil at a bar (tw: attempted sexual assault) Meeting Gwil and his friends at the bar Fighting with him before a business trip Getting into an accident and Gwil stays by your side Waking up with Gwilym (fluffy) 9, 29, 43 Baking Introducing you to Brian and Roger Comforting you after a bad breakup  Being with an American on 4th of July Surprising him on his birthday Firsts Moving in together Gwil and Playmate!Reader (smut) “Strangers at a bar” (smut) Dressing as schoolgirl for him (smut) Sub!Gwil w/ slight breeding kink (smut) Comforting you about your nose When you get you wisdom teeth out

Rami Malek Rami hooks up with a fan at the bar (smut) Part II of ^ Rami and reader skinny dip in their pool (kinda steamy) Helps reader with writer’s block relax (smut) Reader has a hard time showing emotions Taking care of sick Rami (fluffy) Defending Rami Fighting with Rami Rami winning you over on set (kinda steamy) An unexpected proposal 36 and 29 Seeing you without makeup Sub!Rami headcanons (smut) Proposing to you after sex (brief smut) Rami in drag for BoRhap HCs (smut) Under The Stars Friends to lovers Telling him you’re terminally ill (angsty as fuck) Taking your daughter to her first day of school Rami and deaf!reader cooking for his family

Lucy Boynton Helping her with her wedding Celebrating your anniversary Relieving the sexual tension (smut) Coming out to the cast together Getting drunk and admitting her feelings to you When your daughter is getting bullied

Allen Leech Taking you home to Ireland

Brian May Finding out Brian cheated (ANGSTY) Brian proposing on stage (fluffy) Brian and reader fuck at the drive in (smut) Brian and HS gf lose their virginities (smut) Brian comforts reader after serious accident (very fluffy) Brian and reader with ADHD Reader passes out and goes to hospital Brian and reader’s wedding day Dom!Bri blurb (smut) Road tripping with Brian (kinda steamy) Confessing his feelings under the stars You and Brian’s daughter coming out You and Brian’s daughter marrying her girlfriend  2 and 46 (smut) 50 Brian and plus size reader 40 (smut) 20 and 31 28, 33, 36 Roger’s groupies make fun of Brian’s gf Carrying you to bed b/c of an injury All his pet names for you Being insecure he might be cheating “Rumor has it I make you nervous” Enemies w/ benefits to lovers Becoming smitten with a flutist Defending you from the press

Roger Taylor  Flirting with reader after a gig Rog gets jealous when John accidentally sees reader nude Making up after a fight Performing Rocky Horror for him (kinda steamy) Teaching his best friend the drums Dreaming Roger was in an accident 60s Roger 80s Roger and Filipino reader  Roger and Latina reader Roger confessing his feelings after a car accident 10, 17, 37 Passing notes “All I Wanted” songfic She’s out of my life (angsty) Fighting with his childhood friend but getting together Being amused by your emotions on your period Public quickie with Roger (smut) 8, 17, 38 Doing his Rogerina makeup

John Deacon Joe!John kissing reader for the first time 20 and 42 27 and 21 Meeting John on SNL Helping you with period pain Talking about you in an interview Waking him up on his birthday

Freddie Mercury 19 He’s your first kiss 27 (fluffy) 46 Comforting you during stress When he isn’t there for you (daughter!reader)

BoRhap Boys Pregnancy fluff Discussing accents Ben interrupts you and Gwil’s wedding Helping you when you’ve been rejected

Queen Helping their protege after she gets pregnant  Choosing between Brian and Roger Taking care of you after fracturing your tailbone

[nic-214]

Borhap Cast As the Opposite Gender (Part 2)

1). Gwilym Lee played Brian May

2). Allen Leech played Paul Prenter

3). Jack Roth played Tim Staffell

4). Leila Crerar played Chrissie Mullens

5). Adam Lambert played Truck Driver

@bambirexwrites

[anerdquemoraaolado]

Through Chrissie’s eyes

The girls’ night

I rang the bell of the Deacon's apartment and waited for Veronica to come, trying to balance the bags I carried. It wasn't long before Mrs. Deacon opened the door.

"Hi!" Veronica greeted me and soon she was surprised by all the bags "so what's all this? You didn't need to bring anything ..."

I took the opportunity to deliver one of the bags to her.

"And abuse your hospitality?" I rebounded and went in "It's not my way."

"And can I know what this is all about?" Veronica crossed her arms, struggling to stay serious while she wanted to laugh.

"I remembered the sponge cake my mother used to make" I explained. "I've never been able to make one as good as hers, but mine can be good. And I wanted to vary our menu a little bit, a different thing from pizza."

"I shouldn't eat so much candy, you also scold me to not eat candy." Deacon reminded me.

"But today I want to make an exception just to spoil our baby Deacon!" I smiled and said in a lively voice, approaching my friend's belly to talk to her son "if you depend on Aunt Chrissie, you will be very spoiled!"

"No, no, this is bullshit" Veronica laughed. "You're so strict with the boys, imagine how you'll be with your nephew, or niece, or ..."

"Or what?" I knew what word she would complete with that phrase "do you wanna know? Let me start soon, so the sponge cake will be ready when Dom and Mary arrive."

I put my hand in the dough, literally, unwrapping everything I had brought, and being comfortable in the kitchen, while Veronica watched some soap opera on TV. Cooking my mother's recipe, and thinking about what Veronica was going to say, I began to think again about motherhood. I hadn't yet been married for a year, however maternal I was, I still didn't feel ready, and besides, there was something else that worried me. Wherever I went, if anyone knew Queen, it meant that they also knew my husband. Thinking about the size of it made me afraid. I had to learn to deal with it before I become a mother, I felt the need for it.

Mary and Dominique arrived as I spread the stuffing through the dough, and, drawn by the sweet scent of freshly out of the oven, they went straight into the kitchen.

"If I'd known you were going to cook, I'd come faster" Mary said, seeing what I was doing.

"Did you stay a little after your time today?" I asked.

"Yeah, you know how hard the work in a store can be sometimes" she said, looking tired.

"Well, it looks like we got a good reward for a busy day." Dominique smiled as she stared at the loaf.

"Here, folks, you can keep the stuffing bowl, until it's ready," I laughed and handed it to them.

The three of them tucked an unceremonious index finger into the bowl, and licked the dough. By the yummy faces, I knew It was goof, maybe even as good as my mother's. I put the form in the refrigerator, and decided to make tea to accompany. Both me and the girls liked chamomile, it was my favorite, although it didn1t always have the expected effect on me. Being anxious and worried were essential parts of me. But that was a night of calm and fun.

"I think I'm going to take some rest now," I sat down, and even stretched out my legs under the coffee table. "I think it was only Veronica who had a quiet day."

"Oh, I miss working sometimes" she said thoughtfully.

"The fatigue is part of it" I said "I know how it is. Running behind the children makes me exhausted."

"Still, I find it easier to deal with children than with certain adults who shouldn't behave like children, but they are real spoiled brats." Dominique referred to her work.

"Moody artists, isn't it?" Veronica deduced "must be really bad."

"A spoiled child you can fix, now an adult is actually a lot worse, especially if he's an artist," Beyrand agreed.

"But a child's temper tantrums are too bad" Mary mused. "I've seen children twisting their mothers' patience in the store. I'm always embarrassed and I try not to pay any attention to it."

"Anyway, if there's one thing we know is about dealing with grown kids," I laughed, reminding myself of the boys, fetching tea and the sponge cake.

"Oh yeah, they give us a hard work but I already miss my ungainly scarecrow ..." Dominique laughed, but daydreamed for a moment.

"Scarecrow?" I also laughed at what she called Roger, but I was pitying "You shouldn't call him that, that's how he looked like before you started dating."

"Really?" Beyrand was shocked.

"The poor guy changed so much because of you that he didn't even look like him." Mary confirmed what I said.

"We still don't know exactly how you got together until now" Veronica insisted.

"It was sudden, you left and suddenly, we were dating" completed Austin.

"Roger always did that, but in your case ..." I smiled, "it was really different and special."

"All right, girls" Dominique narrowed her eyes and folded her arms "I understand you want me to tell you what happened that night."

"Yes!" I, Mary and Veronica shouted at the same time.

"Okay, okay ..." Dominique laughed, "I'll tell you. Well, I think the beginning of this story is when the movie started, and Roger was paying attention to me, I felt him looking at me sideways, and he was talking to Freddie just to disguise. Then he said to me, "Come with me, please," and made those puppy eyes, how could I say no? I just nodded, he whispered to Brian, pointed to the door, and we all left.

"I didn't notice you leaving," I said.

"So," she resumed, "we walked a little in silence, until Roger seated near the fountain in the center of the neighborhood. Then I asked him what he had, he just told me to sit down, and then he started like this "I need to tell you something, if not, I can't live anymore."

"Dramatic as always," commented Mrs. Deacon.

"Right?" Dominique nodded "then I kept my guard up, I won't deny that I was already feeling the same as him, then I "Tell me Roger" and he "I never felt for anyone what I feel for you, I know it sounds sappy but Dominique, I don't know if you feel the same way about me, but I needed to tell you, I ... I fell in love with you, Dom, for real."

"Ow ..." we sigh together.

"Yes, I know, it melted my heart too," Dom commented on our reaction. "He even started crying because of that, so I held his hand so he could stop crying, and I was able to speak "since a little after my pranks I was charmed by you, just for showing me a little of who you really are, so thoughtful, loving, and I confess that the charm helps a little, then Mr. Taylor, did you know I fell in love with you too? And if you want me to be your girlfriend, I'll be very happy. "

"You asked him to date then?" Veronica brightened.

"Technically, yes, but that was all he was going to ask for." Dominique shrugged.

"So what? What did he do?" asked Mary.

"He spoke like this" "I don't believe it! Pinch me to see if I'm dreaming" "I took advantage of it and I said it" "I have an idea better than a pinch," "I smiled and kissed him, and I felt so ... " she returned to the passionate face "loved and important ..."

"I'm jaw-dropping!" I admitted "now I believe Roger can truly change."

"But of course he can, I'm officially in charge of putting some sense on him!" Beyrand made a serious face, but then laughed.

And after this real romance story but as sugary as a fairy tale, we continued our conversations, enjoying the sponge cake and the tea. The company of the girls brought me joy and calm, and it was good to know that we were real friends and we could count on each other, especially to share secrets from the heart.

[moviestorian]

I read about the thing with Chrissy being unhappy with the early version of BoRhap, but the only source that I found which claims this is Daily Mail, so I would take it with a huge grain of salt, especially considering that the article said that their source was an "anonymous family friend", or something like that. Maybe it's true, who knows, but let's say Daily Mail is not the most trustworthy source of information. 😂

I agree with everything else what you said. 😉

Anon made me google them; Chrissy, Dominique and Veronica look nothing like their irl counterparts. Ironically they didn’t wear as much makeup and gaudy clothes and all three looked lovely. TBH the movie gets almost everything wrong; a damn shame when Queen is far more interesting than what we got. I think Chrissy was very unhappy with the film.

Don’t get me wrong, I can see what you mean but as a longtime Queen fan, personally I was and still am pleased with Bohemian Rhapsody. It’s probably the best and most successful biopic ever. I’m aware of the differences, but it was never presented as a documentary, so yeah it led to misconceptions about Queen but only for those who decided to focus more on the members on a personal level while refusing to further educate themselves about them.

I don’t really think that the general audience interested solely on the band and their music will really focus, when thinking about Queen in the future, on Roger being a womanizer that didn’t know who Galileo was or on Freddie that didn’t want Mary to move on after their breakup. As I already said, in a sense I can see why some things were changed or didn’t respect a timeline, for narrative exigencies. The movie did a great job in portraying what Queen had been as a band, how close they were to each other, but also their impact on music and their success. I just separate the two things.

I think Chrissie wasn’t pleased with an earlier version that involved her character more, that’s why she doesn’t appear much in the story. Who knows, maybe they wanted to mention even Brian’s infidelities.

[m0etenchandon]

Roger´s POV of Jealous (SMUT)

Summary: Roger´s POV of Jealous Warnings: SMUT (18+), angst, masturbation A/N: This is really short, but you guys wanted it so here it is! Roger and John are roommates in this setting. Thanks for reading! Word count: 1.4 K

Masterlist

Read Jealous first!

Roger was fuming as he drove over to the restaurant. Who did John think he was? Making a move on his ex-girl? That was out of order. Sure, he was the one to break up with you, but he hadn´t really realized his feelings for you until it was too late. He wasn´t even sure if he actually wanted to be with you. Okay, he did. But you were a bad match. You would always fight. The make-up sex was good though, perhaps that´s what he missed the most. Your body.

John wouldn´t sleep with you, would he? Roger shook the thought out of his head as he pulled up outside.

The date was fine, at least as long as it lasted. The girl had made up some stupid excuse to leave, claiming she had to go home and feed her cat. Roger knew for a fact she didn´t even have one, but he couldn´t be asked to argue. You were all that was on his mind. That was probably why his date left anyways.

Roger contemplated going over to Brian´s for the night instead of going home to face you and John, but he knew he had Chrissy over. Freddie was out for the night so that was not an option. He could always rent a hotel room, but it felt silly. It was his house after all.

However, he regretted his decision the second he stepped into the flat. He could hear the faint sounds of kissing before he even saw you two. But nothing could prepare him for the sight. John had you pinned against the wall, his lips trailing down you exposed chest. Your head thrown back in pleasure. Roger´s heart sank in his stomach.

Your eyes met his.

“Hi”, you said, pushing John away. Roger wanted nothing more than to punch John square in the face, but instead he held back his aggression, his knuckles going white from how hard he was clenching his hand.

“Y/N, John”, he said. Roger´s eyes fell on John, shooting him a mean look. But John didn´t seem too bothered, he only raised his eyebrows. Making Roger even madder.

“Thought you were out for the night”, John said, sliding his hand down to your ass. Fuck him. That ass used to be Roger´s to touch.

“She had to go, something came up”, Roger said, focusing his gaze on you instead. His eyes immediately softening. “I uh- don´t stop on my account”

Roger did mind, and you all knew it. But he didn´t want to cause a scene either. He knew it was over between you.

“Wasn’t planning to”

John started walking you towards the bedroom.

“Right”, Roger mumbled, drawing in a deep breath. He had fucked up.

Roger slammed the door to his room shut, throwing himself on the bed with a thud. He knew you were just on the other side of the wall, he could hear you talk. He couldn´t make out what you were saying, but when he heard the familiar noise of your moans, he groaned. God, he had missed those sounds, and he was fuming that he wasn´t the one who made you make them.

Roger couldn´t help but let his mind wander to the last time you had sex. It was after an argument, both of you riled up with aggression. The moans you made that night sounded just like the ones you were making now, and Roger´s cock started stirring in his pants.

He shouldn´t be doing this, absolutely not. But he couldn´t help but reach a hand down to palm his bulge. It just felt so good, and your moans were so hot. He could hear John too, but when he closed his eyes, all he could see was himself pounding into you.

Roger cursed under his breath, he had to cum. He fumbled with his belt, hearing your moans get louder and louder. When his cock was finally free of its restraints, he let out a sigh of relief. Roger wrapped a hand around his hard cock, using his pre-cum as lube. He twisted his hand around the tip before setting a steady pace.

The bed on the other side of the wall started banging against the wall, and Roger couldn´t help but let his hand follow the same pace. He was way too hot, a thin layer of sweat covering his entire body, but he needed the release. Fuck, he had hoped his date would let him shag her, but no such luck. He hadn’t slept with anyone since you, and it was definitely affecting his stamina. His balls already drawing up, the knot in his stomach tightening.

Roger heard John tell you that he was close, followed by a pretty moan. You were yelling for him to don´t stop, and Roger found himself unable too as well. He cupped his balls with his free hand, rolling them around in his grasp.

The second he heard that tell-tale moan you always made when you came, rope after rope of sticky hot cum shot out of his cock. It coated his hand, some of it dribbling down to his t-shirt. Shit, now that was ruined too.

Roger threw his head back, staring onto the ceiling. He had just jerked off to the sounds of his best friend fucking his ex. And if that was bad, he even had to leave his room when he heard you start to moan again. Roger decided on taking a shower, but memories of when you last joined him there almost made him hard yet again.

But what was even worse, was seeing John´s smug face the next morning. Roger was trying to enjoy a cup of coffee, when the brunette strode into the kitchen, all whistling and happy. His entire body radiating “I just had sex”.

“Good morning”, John said, walking over to the fridge. He pulled out ingredients for eggs and bacon. What Roger used to make you in the morning.

“Fuck off”, Roger mumbled, feeling his anger rising within.

“Look Roger, I´m sorry. And I´m sorry that you had to hear it, but you were the one who came home”, John said, cracking an egg into the pan. “You know how I feel about Y/N”

“And you know how I feel about her”

“You don´t have feelings for her, that’s why you dumped her. You just miss her body, and I get that. She´s an amazing shag”, John said. He knew it would piss Roger off, and he was right. Roger shot out of his chair, balling his fist in the air as he closed in on John. If looks could kill.

Roger would have punched him too if you hadn´t gotten in the way.

“Oh my god what are you doing, Roger?”, you yelled.

You slid in between them, staring up at Roger with those beautiful eyes of yours. He felt his heart sink in his chest. Those eyes used to be filled with love, now it was regret he saw I them.

“Deaky promised me he wouldn´t sleep with you”, Roger said. He instinctively reached out to place his hands on your waist, but you pulled them away. Looking up at him strictly.

Roger sighed.

“I heard you guys all fucking night”

“Actually I never promised, you just said she wouldn´t shag me”, John said, causing Roger´s attention to drift.

“I don’t fucking care, John. That’s my ex-girl, I still love her”, Roger yelled. He didn´t even realize what he said until it was too late, his eyes widening in panic. “Shit okay I do, I still love you, Y/N”

He could tell by your body language that you were upset, but it was true. He did love you, and he kicked himself for dumping you. What he wouldn’t give to take it all back. His heart sinking when he saw John slide his arms around your waist. You didn´t stop him like you did with him. Roger had been replaced.

“Oh, so now you love me? How convenient. Roger, you dumped me. Live with it. I´m an adult, if I want to be with John then I will. And I do”, you said, pausing to smile softly. “You blew your change. I´m sorry, Roger. We´re over”

Roger closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to be mature about it, he knew that. He didn´t want to cause a scene in front of you. So, he turned on his heel and left the house. Leaving his heart in a pile on the kitchen floor. It was his own fault.

Masterlist

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[mirkwoodshewolf]

My life, The Doctor; 10th Doctor x Nurse!reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys I know it’s been awhile but I finally decided to work on another story outside the Queen/BoRhap fandom. Now this request came from @originalposter96 idk if this is your user name anymore but I hope you’ll be able to see it.

NOW WARNING HERE I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!!! So I know absolutely NOTHING about surgeries or anything like that, so this may seem as lazy writing (sorry) but I hope you all still enjoy this fic. So since this does involve the reader being a Nurse there is a hospital involved, surgeries, blood, removing bullets, gunshots, and a slight trigger warning for Domestic violence (not between the Doctor and reader just some side characters).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

__________________________________________________________

There have been many wonderous places I’ve been to, many wonderful people and creatures I’ve met.  They all come and go in my life, whether through my adventures or by time itself all beings enter my life one way or another.  But throughout all my previous lives, every single being in the Universe that I had ever known, one person was above and beyond special.

Her name was (Y/n) (L/n).  And she—is and will always be the love of my life.

For a human she was extremely clever, sharp as a whip, but she was also kind, loyal, and the one thing about her is that she never gives up on anyone.  As a Head nurse—oh did I forget to mention that? Yes my (y/n) is one of the best Nurses in all of England.  

Anyone in her time or even in the future when she finally becomes an M.D. will tell you that she is one of the best.  In fact she finds out future cures for worldwide pandemics (of course sometimes her board would deny her research and billions of people perish. Rotten bastards).  Anyways, my (y/n) truly is one of a kind amongst the humans and I am glad to have met her.

And won’t she be surprised when she sees me.  It had been awhile since I had last seen her (maybe since the day she graduated medical school just a year ago her time) and now with the Cybermen and Daleks taken care of, now’s a good a time to go see her.

I set the coordinates for her time period and flipped the switch allowing the TARDIS to activate and soon going through time and space.

*My POV*

April 14th, 2015, 10:05pm.  It had been a long day.  5 surgeries, 3 MRI scans, a cancer treatment report, and 2 women in labor later, I was just about to drop right there on the floor.  I was thankful that in like 20min. my shift was gonna be over.

“You look like you’re about to drop dead right on the spot.” I snapped out of my sleepy stage to see my good friend Chrissie Lang.  She and I had graduated from the same Med school together, and had most of the same classes together.  She and I are each other’s support system cause in this line or work—it can take a toll on you.

I remember this one time this woman came in at 6 months pregnant bleeding profusely from her legs.  We both knew that she was suffering a miscarriage so we told to do what her Doctor told us to do, but by the end of it Chrissie was completely destroyed. She always wanted to be a mum and seeing something like that happen made her fearful for even trying to go for a baby with her and her boyfriend.

So for the next ten minutes after helping the woman out, Chrissie and I just held onto each other and shed our tears before we had to brush it off and move onto the next case we had.  For those that say being a Doctor or a Nurse is the easiest job to do, they’re liars. The job can hit you not just physically, but mentally as well.

“After 2 days of not sleeping, I just might. Put on my tombstone (Y/n) (l/n). Died with a heart of gold and a stomach of caffeine.”

“That’s true cause I swear girl, you’re probably the most caffeine addicted person I’ve ever met.”

“I can stop whenever I want, these are just choices.” We both chuckled softly.

“Excuse me ladies, but would you mind helping me with something?” a familiar voice said to me.  We both turned to our right and standing there with a bouquet of my favorite color of carnations was the Doctor.

“Of course, what can we do for you sir?” asked Chrissie.

“Hey Chris, why don’t you let me handle this?” I suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, besides you’re about to clock out sooner than me, you go on and head home. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay, see you later (n/n).” she bid the Doctor good evening and he did the same. Once Chrissie left the lobby, I turned towards the Doctor smiling widely as he did the same.

I immediately embraced him and he picked me up and twirled me around, the two of us laughing together.

“Oh I swear every time I come back, you get more beautiful.” He said as he set me down.

“I’m just happy you got to come back at all.” I said as I cupped his face in my hands. His eyes grew soft as he placed his hands over mine.

“I know what I do is dangerous, but you know why I do what I do.” I nodded in understandment.

“I mean hell it wouldn’t be any different if you were human and worked as a police officer or a fireman. Hell we humans live in a dangerous world, anything could kill us.”

“Which is what makes me the Doctor.”

“It does indeed.” I stroked his cheek with my thumb and that’s when he reached for the bouquet he had set down on the front desk and he presented it to me. “You always know just how to cheer me up.”

“Figured you might’ve had a long, rough day. Thought a little color could be used to brighten up your day.”

“It sure did, thank you my love.”

“Anything for you my life.”

That was a thing between us.  When we first started dating each other, we had a little code/nickname for each other. I call the Doctor ‘my love’ because ever since he literally dropped from the sky onto my doorstep, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

He’s quirky, bit of a goofball, can sometimes blow his top but that’s only when something really dangerous happens and he’s under stress (yeah I’ve traveled with him a couple of times during my time at Med school), but he’s also loyal, brave, beyond clever, and he always puts everyone else, especially the human race above himself.  For the last of his species, he’s an incredibly selfless person.

He calls me ‘his life’ because whenever things get too hard for him, since he and I have been through some rough stuff due to our day to day life, I always try my best to comfort him.  I know that he’s lost people, just like I have on a job, and it’s not an easy thing to get pass.

So we both try to be each other’s support system.  We know there is always loss in the world, but the thing is to not let that be the driving point that always controls your life.  You can use it to make you stronger, not let it drag you down any further.

“So how has my brave Dr. (L/n) been since I last saw her?”

“You know I’m not a Doctor yet, I still gotta go through the nursing program and then rise up in the ranks before I finally get it.”

“Oh rubbish, you should’ve been a Doctor right as you graduated.”

“Yeah well not according to the chief here.” I muttered annoyedly.

“Honestly though, that old fool wouldn’t know a good doctor if it turned around and bit him in the arse.” I shushed him but couldn’t help myself from giggling softly.

“You can be so cruel sometimes you know that?” he playfully shrugged.

“Only when it comes to people who hurt you.” he wrapped his arms around me and pecked my cheek. “How much longer till your shift ends?” I turned to the clock and responded.

“10 minutes. But…..I could clock out a little early since there hasn’t been a call.”

“Playing hooky ehh? You cheeky little minx.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. As we leaned closer to each other about to kiss, the doors suddenly burst open and a frantic voice called out.

“HELP! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! HELP!” a blonde woman around her mid 30’s came in holding her brother who looked to be around the same age as her.  Quite possible they might’ve been twins cause I could see some similarities on the both of them.  Her brother was completely covered in blood and his lips were blue from blood loss.

“Okay Miss calm down. I NEED A STRECHER STAT!!” soon enough the nurses who were still here for the nightshift ran off as I walked towards the two siblings. “What happened?”

“My ex-boyfriend jumped us. He thought—he thought my brother was a new boyfriend of mine and he—he—oh god this is my f-fault!”

“No, no, no Miss this is not your fault.” As I tried to calm her down, the stretcher bed soon came in and a group of nurses helped the man on his back and began cutting away his shirt.

“I’m seeing 3 bullet wounds to the chest and one on his abdomen. Let’s move him!” I get onto the top right of him as we wheel him into the OR to save his life while another nurse stayed behind with the sister to calm her down.

I washed my hands and arms frantically and thoroughly before getting my shrubs and mask on.  Already the destine nurses, assistants and now our head Doctor, Dr. Murphy came in and he said.

“What have we got?”

“Four shots in the upper body, two in the lower. He might’ve lost a pint of blood at least.” Answered Nurse Yasmin.

“Maybe 2-3. His BP is dropping fast.” Added one of the male Nurses, Derek.

“Okay, any of those bullets rupture an organ?” asked Dr. Murphy.

“The one in his lower abdomen is just a centimeter before hitting his small intestine. If we don’t get that bullet out first he could bleed out internally.”

“Okay keep an eye on his BP. I need fluids, scalpels, suction tubs, retractors……”

“Lucy….”the man groaned out.

“(L/n), do your thing.” Said Dr. Murphy.  I nodded and came up to the man and said.

“Sir? Sir can you hear me?”

“Yes. Where—where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital. Your sister brought you in. Don’t worry she’s okay and told us what happened.”

“Good….good……She’s safe. I—I’d never forgive myself if—” he started fading out.

“Hey, hey, hey sir, sir stay with me now. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“Barry.”

“Okay Barry, I’m (Y/n) (l/n). My team and I are gonna help you but you need to stay with me for just a bit. Don’t give up on me.”

“It hurts….it hurts so badly.”

“I know, I know.”

“Give him a shot of morphine to numb the pain.” Dr. Murphy ordered.  Suzie got the morphine bag and needle ready and slowly stuck the needle into his left arm.  Barry hissed and I said to him.

“This’ll help lessen the pain. You won’t feel the pain as we try to get the bullets out of you Barry. But you gotta stay with me, okay?”

“I’ll—try……” he mumbled tiredly.  I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up at his vitals and saw his BP was continuing to drop and his heartbeat was going down.

As I looked around me, frantically Dr. Murphy and all the nurses were working together trying to get all the bullets out of him one by one, less we risk him bleeding out as two teams tried to work out a single bullet.  With the main one near his intestines cleared, Dr. Murphy and Nurse Helen worked on getting the few out of his upper chest.

All the while Barry kept groaning every now and then and his eyes were fading fast.

“Barry. Barry hey look at me boy. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your sister. From what she said about who had done this to you, you need to stay alive for her. What you did was heroic, but don’t let her see that that selfish son of a bitch won. She needs you, your family needs you.”

“I got the blood transfusion he now needs. Thankfully, we had our last bag of B+ in the storage bin.” A young male nurse who had only worked here for a year, Cody exclaimed as he came through the doors.

“Alright, start the transfusion now! We just got the last bullet out and his BP is dropping faster and faster!”

“You hear me Barry? We’re getting you your life back. But it’s gonna be up to you now. Don’t let him be the victor, not tonight! You hear me?” he groaned and looked right up at me and he whispered groggily to me.

“Why do you care so much?” I took a deep breath in and said as I stroked the hair from his face.

“Because so many people everywhere are already dying every day. Some because time has run out on them, others for serving their country, but there are the odds of people dying for now reason whatsoever. Or for stupid reasons that shouldn’t be a reason why someone should have to die, especially if it’s protecting their family member from some arsehole who can’t tell the meaning of the word No. Now your sister is out there waiting for you, if she loses you, she’ll have lost her Ace. Her only friend that has stuck by her through whatever it was that her ex-boyfriend did to her.”

“He…..always was a……selfish prick!” he coughed out.

“I’ll bet he was. But she survived him, and now you’ve got to survive too. Don’t give him that satisfaction that he took a life tonight. Can you do that for me?” he nodded softly and whispered out again.

“You’d make a great motivational speaker.”

“I was on the debate team back in secondary school. If you wanna hear more, you’ll just have to stick around Earth for a little while longer.” After his final stitches were in place, the blood transfusion began and it was then Dr. Murphy had Cody, Darren, and Helen wheel him into ICU.  From there, Barry would be monitored 24/7 till he woke up from his post-surgery coma.

Dr. Murphy took off his mask and gloves before turning to me and he said to me.

“Nice job keeping him talking.”

“Just doing my job sir.”

*Doctor’s POV*

Unaware to anyone else, I had snuck into the upper levels to witness the surgery in progress.  I watched as (y/n) stayed right by the young man’s side and kept giving him encouragement to stay alive.  But not for himself, for his sister.

This. Is why she would one day go down in the medical books as the world’s greatest Female doctor’s.  She always put the lives of the people her patient’s love over their own, then psychologically, the patient’s bodies would continue to fight on until finally they would find the strength to recover.

Of course she will have her failures cause that’s life.  You can’t save everyone but you can work harder at saving the ones you can save in the future.  She doesn’t let one failure get her down, that’s sometimes the curse of being a Doctor. When you lose people, it can really affect you. Even when those closest to you are the ones you lose.  Believe me I’ve been there millions of times throughout my 10 life cycles (she’s lucky she’ll only deal with one).

By morning, the lad Barry managed to make a full recovery.  His sister, Lucy repeatedly thanked all the doctors and nurses who helped out with saving her brother before giving her statement to the police.

I waited outside by the TARDIS for my beloved Doctor to clock out, and when she finally came out the poor dear looked exhausted.  I extended my arms out for her and she gave me a tired smile before collapsing into my arms.

“Just when I thought I could get at least one early night in.” her voice muffled against my trench coat but I still managed to hear her.  I softly laughed and rocked her gently as I assured her.

“I know, but hey if you hadn’t been here, that young man would’ve died.”

“Oh you know it was Dr. Murphy as well as a few other nurses that actually did the real operation to save him.”

“True, but you were just as important if not more. You kept him awake and talking.” I shrugged tiredly agree-to-disagreeing. “Now then, I think after a night like that, and from lack of sleep these past couple of days you deserve to be pampered and see the wonders of the galaxy.”

“How did you—”

“Besides the bags under your eyes, I’ve seen the amount of Starbucks cups at your apartment.” She groaned embarrassingly.  God this girl and her coffee addiction, truthfully I never understood why humans choose that as their beverage of choice.  I myself prefer a good Earl grey or even sometimes Jasmine tea but ugh that horrible bland stuff they call coffee?! Never. Again. Will that drink touch my taste buds.

“Care to show me the wonders of time and space?”

“Need a pick me up boost?” she nodded.  I kicked open the doors of the TARDIS and hopped inside before extending my hand out to her saying, “First question is though; do you trust me?”

“Always my love.” She replied with that loving soft smile of hers as she took my hand.

“Then brace yourself my life, because I’m going to show you the sound of the Universe.”

“You mean…..”

“Indeed I do my love, the Music of the Spheres.” Her smile grew wider and I pulled her into the TARDIS before shutting the doors behind her and together the two of us ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and I punched in the coordinates and soon we took off for the Music of the Spheres.

And who knows where our next adventure would lead after that? So long as I got my love, my life, my Doctor with me by my side.

[milkchu]

❝anyway the wind blows❞ ♔ fourteen.

Summary: (Y/N) Mercury’s journey of love, fame, and pain, alongside what would become one of the most legendary bands ever, Queen.

Pairing: Borhap!Queen x Reader, eventual Brian May x Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of dying and drinking, fighting. THIS IS IT, GUYS. 

⇦ previous chapter // series masterlist // next chapter ⇨

“Convinced our voices can’t be heard,” You sang out, your voice cracking a little bit, “You just wanna scream it louder and louder and louder.”

“What the hell are we fighting for?”

You hand came up to your throat, feeling a warm ache as you sang the next lyric, “Ah, just surrender and it won’t hurt at all,” before finally holding a finger up, gesturing for them to stop playing.

“Yup,” Deacy said before looking over to Brian, “Let’s call it, yeah?”

Shaking your head, “Sorry,” you let out a light chuckle, “I sound like shit.”

“You all are lovely, you sound good,” You smiled to everyone, placing your microphone back on the stand, “Been a while.”

Holding onto your throat, you tried to clear it again, “My throat feels like a vulture’s crotch.”

Each of them let out a chuckle before Roger said, “We still got a week. We’ll get there.”

“Yeah, we’re in a good place, (Y/N/N),” Brian added, “You just need a bit of rest, that’s all,” He looked towards you, your back facing them, before you softly replied, “Yeah.”

Eventually the three of them got into their own conversation, your heart beginning to beat faster than normal as you looked up to Miami, who had a knowing look on his face.

Your stomach hurt with anticipation, but you still fought it. Nodding subtly at Miami, you turned towards them, “Before you leave…”

“Could I have a second?”

“Yeah. What’s up?” Roger asked.

Before you could chicken out and turn away from them, you blurted out, “I’ve got it.”

Each of their faces held a confused look, Deacy shaking his head before asking, “Got what?”

“I’m dying.”

“I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Deacy immediately felt tears rush through his eyes, sighing and looking up at the windows to avoid breaking down in tears in front of you.

Roger just felt numb, frozen in place, staring at you in shock, secretly begging you to break out in laughter and laugh at their reactions to the joke you just made.

As much as Brian was thrashing on the inside, he contained himself, though the ache he felt in his chest couldn’t be ignored, he resorted to looking down at the floor, biting his lip before looking back up to you, “(Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

“Brian, stop.”

You shook your head, “Don’t.”

“For right now… it’s between us,” You smiled softly at them, “All right? Just us.”

“So, please… if any of you fuss about it or frown about it, or worst of all, if you bore me with your sympathy, that’s just seconds wasted. Seconds that could be used making music… which is all I want to do with the time I have left.”

“I don’t have time to be their victim, the face of a front-page news cover, the poor, sickly, dying girl…”

“No. I decide who I am,” You looked at the three of them, your mouth curling up into a small smile, “I’m going to be what I was born to be.”

“A performer… who gives the people what they want.”

“Touch of the heavens,” You pointed your finger up, a smile gracing its way to Brian’s lips while Deacy nodded, tears pouring down his cheeks, but with his own smile.

“(Y/N) fucking Mercury.”

“You’re a legend, (Y/N),” Roger said.

“You’re bloody right I am. We’re all legends.”

“But you’re right, I am a legend,” You added, making the three burst out in laughter, “Now you give me a chance to get my bitchy little vocal cords in order…”

“And we’ll go and punch a hole through the roof of that stadium.”

“Actually, Wembley doesn’t have a roof,” Deacy corrected, all of you letting out a chuckle before Brian added with a strained voice, a tight-lipped smile on his face, “He’s right, it doesn’t.”

“Then we’ll punch a hole in the sky,” You raised your arm up.

After putting your arm down, you walked towards the three of them, Brian bringing his arm around your shoulders before you all circled together in a hug.

“Now, even though you’re crying like three little girls… I still love you,” You grinned, Brian’s hand patting your hair.

Before you could break down in tears yourself, you pulled away, “All right, enough of this.”

“Drink?”

“Yes!”

“Or ten,” Deacy replied, sniffing.

Church bells rang loudly as both white doves and rice flew everywhere, showering the newly-wed couple in all of the guests’ best wishes for them.

Leaning against the bark of the tree that was several feet away from the church’s main entrance, you smiled softly as you watched the happy couple, your face hiding under the large, black hat that rested on your head.

Hearing the sound of grass crunching nearby, you looked to your side before chuckling softly, “You know, your hair gives it away all the time.”

Brian let out a chuckle as he stood next to you before you continued, “Still not thinking of cutting it?”

He shook his head, “Never.”

“I can already see seventy-something year old Brian Harold May, still rocking the curly hair,” You joked, Brian letting out a laugh before you mumbled, “It is one of your best features anyway.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks immediately, realizing what you just said, before Brian cleared his throat, changing the subject for you, “They look so happy,” He watched the two lovers at the front, before looking over to you, many things running through his mind at that short moment.

“They do,” You watched as the couple took pictures, before you let out a light chuckle, “I always thought that I would be here for this.”

“Just not in this way,” You shook your head, feeling tears at the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Brian sighed, before bringing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

You let out a sniff, before rubbing your eyes, “All right, let’s not waste life on sadness, now,” You chuckled, Brian joining along, but keeping his arm around you.

“How about a drink at my place, huh? Rog and Deacy are probably too busy having their own drinks with their wives,” He chuckled.

You looked up at him with a smile, “I would love that.”

As you passed by the main entrance, you couldn’t help but look over to the couple. On him.

Matthew smiled at the guests, thanking them for coming, while his lovely bride, Daisy held onto his arm, giggling at whatever her friend told her.

He looked around, trying to find you, before his eyes finally locked with yours, his lips curling up into a smile as he saw you walking away with Brian.

You sent him a sweet smile, your eyes filling up with tears again, with joy this time. 

In that moment, you thanked him. For everything. Taking care of you, putting up with all your shit, all those times you made love with one another, all the sweet, unforgettable memories you’ve made together, all the pain you’ve went through together, and for making you feel loved. Truly loved.

Thank you, Matthew Adams.

As if he read your mind, Matthew nodded his head your way, with the most genuine and heartfelt smile on his face, Thank you, (Y/N) Mercury. 

Before finally walking away from him.

While you and Brian walked towards to his car, your eyes were locked on him, the rays of setting sun in the sky shining through his curls.

“What?” Brian chuckled, noticing you staring.

You giggled as you shook your head, “Nothing.”

“Is anyone home?” You asked Brian as you stepped through his front door, entering his large home. 

“Dianne,” Brian replied, “Goes back to Chrissie’s in a couple days.”

“Auntie (Y/N)!” A tiny voice cheered, before you felt little arms wrap around your legs.

You let out a giggle, “Hello there, little darling,” You kneeled down to her level, wrapping your arms around her tiny figure, “How’s my favorite troublemaker?”

“Better now that you’re here!”

“Oh yeah, ignore your dad, why don’t you?” Brian huffed.

The four-year old let out a cute giggle, before switching to her dad’s legs, wrapping her arms around them, “Daddy!”

Brian kneeled down to pick his daughter up, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead, “Hello there, munchkin.”

Putting her back down on the floor, Brian added, “Why don’t you go get your fine works of art and show Auntie (Y/N)?”

“Okay, daddy!” Dianne cheered, before her little feet start running up the stairs to her bedroom.

Later on, you were both sat down on the living room floor, Dianne showing you all her drawings, whilst Brian sat down on the couch behind you, watching you both.

“See the angry lion? That’s Uncle Roger,” Her tiny finger pointed at the hand drawn lion that was burning with anger as shown by the excessive use of a red crayon, “And the other lion, the nice one? That’s Uncle Deacy.”

You giggled at the drawings that were somewhat accurate to real life, “You’re going to be a wonderful artist one day, Didi.”

“You really think so, Auntie (Y/N)?” She looked up at you with glimmer in her innocent eyes, Eyes that were undoubtedly her father’s.

You placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “I know so.”

Brian smiled softly as he watched you interact with his daughter, he never thought he’d say this but, you would definitely make an amazing mother.

“Yay!” She cheered, “I have one last drawing! A new one!”

“Let’s see it, then,” You clapped.

Dianne then brought out a picture of three people holding hands, the figure with a lot of brown swirly lines along its head was obviously her father, the little figure in the middle being her, and the other figure of a woman, “Is that your mommy?”

“Mm-mm,” She shook her head, “That’s you, Auntie (Y/N)!”

Looking at the drawing more intently, you felt your heart become warm. Especially at the thought of having a family like that. With someone. 

But before you could compliment her on her newest masterpiece, Brian interjected, “All right, now. It’s way past your bedtime, young lady.”

Dianne pouted, “But, daddy!” 

You let out a soft giggle, stroking her hair softly, “Don’t worry, next time, we’ll draw together, but now, you have to go to sleep so you can have enough energy!”

Her pout grew into a excited grin, “Okay, Auntie (Y/N)!” before marching up to her bedroom.

As soon as Dianne left the room, Brian asked, “She only listens to you, you know?”

“Maybe I should be her mother then?” You joked, before plopping down on the couch, beside Brian.

You both laughed before Brian stood up to walk to get some drinks, and as soon as he got back and handed you your drink, you felt the air become thick.

“It’s been hard,” Brian took a gulp of his drink, “Not getting to see Dianne all the time.”

“Chrissie has her on most of the days. Me being so busy with the band and all. I bet it’s hard for Didi too, always moving, not having both her parents all the time.”

You sighed, “It is hard. But she’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah. She seems to like you a lot, though,” Brian chuckled.

“Like me? Darling, please, she loves me,” You replied, “I am her favorite person in the world after all.”

A chorus of laughter bursted from the two of you, and from there you just talked about random things, like talking shit about that one asshole that you left distressed at Munich.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Brian asked, his shirt almost completely unbuttoned whilst your jacket was thrown off to the side.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Live life to the fullest? Is that what people say?,” You let out a light chuckle, before taking a sip of your drink, “As long it’s with you, Rog, and Deacy, of course.”

Brian smiled softly, “Of course, I’ll always be by your side, (Y/N).”

Looking over to him, you reached for his hand, gently stroking the back with your thumb, “Thank you, Brian.”

You continued to look at him. For the first time in fifteen years, you got a proper look at him. Brian Harold May. One of your best mates ever since you formed the band. And now someone you would want to spend the remaining years of your--

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ripped your hand away from his.

“What do you mean, (Y/N)?” Brian asked, a look of concern on his face because of your sudden change of mood.

You slammed your glass down the coffee table and stood up, “Did you even notice?” You pointed your finger at him in anger.

Brian stood up, shaking his head, “Notice what, (Y/N)? Fuck’s sake, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Paul. Everything. Everything that’s been ruining me! Ruining my life!” You shouted, tears burning the edges of your eyes before you broke down and let everything pour out of you.

It was the first time Brian saw you cry like that. The first time you broke your walls down in front of him. Your real emotions.

Kneeling down in front of you, he tried to pat your shoulder but then you shoved it away. You had a little too much to drink but he knew that everything you said was real. And it hit him hard.

So, Brian finally did what he should have, he wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you to his chest, resting his chin atop your head.

You thrashed around, and just punched him everywhere in his grip but he stood still, and let you pour everything out on him.

Your fists kept hitting him in his chest, “Why didn’t you do anything, Brian?” You sobbed, “I needed you. I fucking needed you every fucking time.”

“But, you never needed me,” Your red eyes looked up at him.

“That’s not true, (Y/N),” Brian said, looking at you with his own tears in his eyes, “I always needed you.”

“But why the fuck didn’t you do anything?”

“Because,” He gulped, “I was so fucking stupid and blinded by everything. I was selfish, I thought that thinking you were fine would feel better and hurt less than actually seeing what’s behind everything. I was a stupid fucking idiot, (Y/N).”

He looked down at you, “I knew I had a choice. And I regret not taking that chance,” His thumb stroked your tear-stained cheek, “Now, I’d rather die than seeing you get hurt again.”

“Brian…”

“And I still am selfish, (Y/N),” Brian continued, “Because after all the pain I’ve caused you…”

“I still want you all to myself.”

And that’s when he broke down in tears, his face burying itself into your neck.

“I fucking need you in my life, (Y/N) Mercury,” He sobbed into your neck.

Feeling his tears run down your neck, you stroked his curly hair a few times before pulling him back, “How dare you?”

Brian looked up at you, “I know, I’m so fucking sorry, (Y/N)--”

“How dare you make me wait this long for you to say that?”

“What?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brian, It’s 1985! We met in 1970, so it took you fifteen years to actually say those words to my face?”

“I don’t understand-”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, you wanker.”

And he did.

Like he should have when he first saw you at the pub.

a/n: omg omg omg idfk what to feel about this chapter omgshdmfogod whatthefucktheufuck

tags: @b-hardys // @spideyyypeter // @hunterswearingplaid // @livingforrt // @bensrhapsody // @jennyggggrrr // @little-weirdo-13 // @kemeryyyy // @yoonlatte // @geek-and-proud // @everything-you-dont-wanna-be // @itsametaphorbriansblog // @marequeenii // @killer-queen-xo // @jedi-dreea // @achernarsaa // @nevaeh-potter15 // @banana-tree-freddiemercury // @rogertaylorssunglasses // @pyrotechnic789 // @mirkwoodshewolf // @stuff-exists // @toger-raylor // @langdonzvoid // @imamazzellhoe // @tbird20165 // @theswedishblonde // @oliviaharddyy // @sunflower-borhap-boys // @rocknrollsavedmysoul13 // @sincereleygmg // @mylifeissucky123 // @teenwolflover28 // @perrythefrickinplatypus // @deakysmisfire // @simonedk // @rockyroadthepastryarchy // @warren-lauren // @sarai-ibn-la-ahad // @danny-fucking-mercury // @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen // @gracelynn318 // @sargent-barnes // @anonymouse-not-so-anonymous

[i couldn’t tag some of you for some reason :/]