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deepdonutkid · 4 years ago

Text

Kismet

Requested: No

Paring: Shelby!Sister Reader x Isaiah

Words: 5624

Summary: For a year now, you had a secret relationship with Isaiah and even when he is still in the same room with you, you can’t stop feeling lonely. It’s not that you don’t love him anymore, it more about the weight of the secret you have to carry. But with Tommy as you big brother you can’t risk, telling the truth or your man might get shot.

Note:

I was in the mood for a Shelby!Sister reader x Isaiah and it turned out to be way longer than I expected it... and I even cut out dialog... So here it is!

It’s also flavored with Junior Peaky Boys fun at the beginning. And I was inspired by my homegirl’s one shot called star and my story is an addition to hers, it’s the same night, but Bonnie has some other adventures than the reader and Isaiah.

Somehow I feel like everybody is a little ooc, but I couldn’t correct it.

Requests and tag list are still open, feel free to dm me or send me an ask.

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl @justalonelyslytherin @theshelbyclan

Warning: swear words, drinking, binge drinking, gambling, a hinted smut and a sweet ending

It was one of those nights, nothing special, just the usual fellows around the same table in the Garrison. You had fun nevertheless. All your friends were right there, you had enough to drink and you had a luck hand today. The cards seemed to work in your fortune.

Deviously smiling you revealed your hand. You just had won this round and it gave you unholy amounts of satisfactions. “Ha”, you cheered: “Suck it up.”

Your friend shrugged and shoved his coins in your direction. All he said was a very grumpy “There you go”, but it pleased you.

You took the money and peaked around the corner. Where was Michael with the drinks? He was like a brother to you, but he was just your cousin. Maybe it was because you were born just two months before his older sister, Anna. Even though, she was gone Michael came back to his real family and now you were closer than ever. You cared for him, more than your siblings did.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hit him, if he just left the bar to fuck with some random girl. It was not about him having sex, more about leaving without telling anybody. Especially when he was supposed to get drinks for the table. You moaned and said: “Where is Michael?”

“Probably doing somebody”, Isaiah joked and lit a cigarette. Then he offered you one and you took it gladly. Actually, you bit your lip and gave him the side-eye, but you had to hide your smile in front of the others. Bonnie and Finny weren’t the smartest boys in Small Heath, but you wouldn’t risk it.

You had so much fun with Isaiah that you didn’t even know when it started. Months passed by, while you were completely caught up in your little game with him. Nobody knew it. That was mainly Isaiah’s fault. At first it amused you to keep your relationship with him secret, but now you were ready to tell your family about it. Your boyfriend didn’t like the idea.

Somehow you thought Michael started to notice. He gave you the glace, which said: “I know, dear”, but maybe you were just getting crazy. You just had to be more careful around others now and everything was fine.

The night was still young and you were keen to make Bonnie lose all his money today. He had won the boxing match earlier and the bruises were still visible, but unfortunately for him, he couldn’t win against you. It was just a card game, but it filled you with gleeful joy. This and the fact that Isaiah was sitting next to you. Sometimes he would brush your thigh with his fingers, which made you giggle even more.

“There he is”, yelled Finny while being so fucking drunk, like you never had seen him before. Michael arrived with messy hair and his tie was undone, but he had your drink and that was all that you care for. “Finally”, you fluted and ripped the glass of his hand: “Thank you, babe.”

And the whiskey was still cold, which meant he fucked the girl first and ordered the drinks afterwards. “How was she? Good?” you asked before you took a sip from your whiskey. You weren’t a lightweight when it came to drinking, maybe not as well as Arthur and John, but you could tolerate much more than Ada and Finny. Your little brother was so drunk, he looked like his head was all empty and yet filled with bullshit.

Michael sat down next to you and answered: “Mhh, she was okay, but she talked too much.” Then you felt the weight of a hand on your thigh again. A shiver rushed down your spine, but it was the wrong side. Your cousin had put his hand on your knee. “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything is perfect”, you blabbered hoping he wouldn’t keep asking questions, but he did. “Don’t be so worried, every time I’m with a girl. I know you’re still a virgin, but you can get some too. Tommy wouldn’t be against it.”

How wonderfully wrong he was. Neither were you a virgin nor would Tommy be okay with this. After all, you were his little sister and he wouldn’t accept the guy, you were sleeping with. Of course, Isaiah was a friend of the family, but after the whole thing with Ada and Freddie you had something to worry about.

The best snarky comeback was right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it without letting something slip. ‘What gives you the idea I’m still a virgin?’ And yet you were silent as the guy who fucked you, sat right next to you. You felt trapped and decided to go straight forward. “Yes, he would. You know it and everybody in Small Heath knows it.”

“Oh whatever”, Michael mumbled: “Just drink enough and you eventually forget about it.”

You grinned and emptied your drink. “Fuck it, let’s play some cards. I’m not done with Mr. Gold over here.” Then you took the cards and dealt them to start the next round.

Much later that night when you brought Finn back home and went straight back to the pub, in front of the entrance, you stumbled into Bonnie. “Is there a reason why you’re smirking?” you asked him. He was gleaming red and smiling like an idiot.

Then you remembered. “The singer, right?” Bonnie nodded and his grin got even wider. “You talked to her?” Again he gave you a silent answer. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. He was a lot heavier than you thought, but then again, you were just a girl and he was a boxer.

Sometime it was weird to only have male friends, it just happened. Maybe it was because of your brothers. Maybe that’s why you never acted like a proper girl. Of course you felt like a woman and you liked your body, but in your eyes it was so much easier to talk to guys.

“Eyy, where did you found him?” Michael slurred and helped you to put your friend on a chair again. With your hands finally free you had the chance to explain. “Found him outside. I don’t know what he did there, but he talked to the singer.”

Both, Isiah and Michael nodded. It was only logical for Bonnie to freak out after it talking to her. He was there every Friday night looking for the singer and now his brain seemed to melt, just because she said something to him. But neither of you knew, what she said exactly. Maybe this was a problem for another night. It didn’t look like Bonnie was able to answer.

So you ordered some more drinks and sat back down again. In this separate room, which was reserved for your family, it was almost too tempting to get close to your boyfriend again. Isiah looked so good that night and it hurt to be unable to touch him… or to kiss him. But you would be satisfied with just holding his hand now.

It was a curse; you knew it soon after you realized that you loved him. He was handsome, charming and a loyal friend. There was no better man for you, even though you wished you could be together in public. And again you bit your lip and moved your chair away from him.

But you couldn’t think about this anymore, it was too frustrating and luckily somebody else caught your attention. It was Bonnie who mumbled very quietly: “I think she kissed me, but it could be a dream as well. It felt so surreal.” You padded his shoulder and nodded to underline your compassion.

It was just the same with Isaiah. Whenever you two were alone, it was amazing and beautiful. He was so soft and romantic and he just made you happy. But every time you woke up and he was gone, the sweet scenery shattered. And out in public it was getting annoying to find excuses to be with him or getting away, so you could spend some time alone with him and you had to lie to your whole family about your whereabouts. Slowly it became exhausting.

There was nothing you could do about it, so you just drank your whiskey and talked with the boys about Bonnie’s singer and the girl Michael had. It was so easy for them to display their relationship in the public, but of course you didn’t have this privilege as a girl. Apparently, you needed to be protected. Or so it has been explained to you. You wasn’t concerned for your safety but for your freedom. Tommy said it was his job as your big brother to care for you, even if it felt like he was controlling you. You have always been the wild one among your siblings and everything was fine, until your mum died and your dad left. Then Tommy was in charge and sometimes his opinions would vary from yours, which led to fights. And yet you feared what he might do, if he found out about your secret.

All the sudden Bonnie fell from his chair and you groaned. Now somebody had to bring him home as well. First Finn and now him… but why they couldn’t take the whiskey today? You weren’t nearly as drunk as them, but still.

Isaiah stood up and picked his friend up. “I’m taking him home. I’ll be right back”, he said, before leaving.

Now Michael and you were alone. It wasn’t what you wanted. The only thing you could think of was smooching the sweet lips of your boyfriend. You were caught up in your little fantasy, when your cousin woke you up again. “Isaiah is acting weird lately.”

“Oh… really? I didn’t notice”, you replied: “He seemed normal to me.” Your hand grabbed the fringe of your dress. Talking about him made you nervous.

Michael moaned and fumbled for his cigarettes. He put them out, you took one and he turned his between his fingers, when he added: “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I think he is hiding something from us.” Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag from it.

You inhaled sharply and stared into the void for a second, before answering: “Don’t be silly, he is just as loyal as ever.” Then you laughed and Michael joined in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just needed to get this off my chest.”

The rest of the conversation went just like usual. You chatted, you bickered and you had fun. While the bell already announced the new day, Isaiah came back.

In this tiny glimpse of a moment you couldn’t hide your smile and he reciprocated. Actually, you were just waiting for Michael to leave now. It was your plan all along, but patience has never been your strong suit.

It took three more rounds for Michael to say goodnight. “Take care of her, will you?” Isaiah nodded. When Michael finally grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, you felt unbelievably excited. Your fingertips slapped a melody on the table, while you watched him leaving. The door shut and now you had what you longed for all night.

You turned around and looked at him. Gosh, waiting felt like an eternity. Now you were the one smiling like an idiot. Slowly Isaiah came closer and his hand pulled you to him for a kiss. “Finally”, you whispered against his lips, before giving him what he wanted.

After you two parted you rested your head on his shoulder. Now you were getting tired as well, but you didn’t want to go to your bed. “I was waiting the whole evening for this”, he moaned and stroked your hair.

The smell of his perfume made you realized how much you missed him too, even though he was with you since you went to Garrison tonight. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. Then you signed: “I wish we didn’t have to hide” and buried your face in his shirt.

“Babe”, he replied: “We already had this conversation. It wouldn’t end well. Let’s just enjoy what we have as long as we can.” It hurt, but Isaiah was right. There was no chance Tommy was getting you off the hook, once he knew about it. And no matter how you explained it to him, he would still be against it. You were too young for stuff like that, as if he didn’t fucked Greta, when he was the same age.

You leaned back to see his beautiful face again. There was something in his eyes, a twinkle or something like that, but it always made you feel comfortable. A lick of your lip was enough to purpose the idea of doing something nasty. He knew you since you were children and it was like he could read your thoughts, especially the dirty ones.

Isaiah started giggling and asked: “Hey, babe, I still can cheer you up, right?”

Maybe it was time for some fun, different to the fun you had before with your friends. The word pleasure would describe it well and with his knowing look he gave you so many ideas. You laughed and nodded. “I think it might help when you do the thing with your tongue.”

“Oh”, he responded amused: “Like this?” And then grabbed you for a kiss and god, what a kiss it was. His tongue brushed your upper lip just to enter your mouth and explore it as if it was your first kiss. He even bit your lip playfully and kept going until you couldn’t breathe no more. Your knees started shaking and it was needless to say, he was the best kisser you ever had.

It took you a while to catch a breath again, but then you answered: “Yeah, just like this… But maybe we could go to your place and do a little more?”

He didn’t seem to be so sure about this suggestion. His thumb stroked your shoulder as he held you in his arm. Because he was so quiet for a second, you knew, he thought about this backwards and forwards. “But right when the sun comes up, you have to go back home”, he argued.

Again, Isaiah was right. You should take too many risks. Otherwise you might get caught and neither of you wanted that. All you could do was to shrug and agree: “Just don’t shoo me after we fucked.” There was bitterness in your voice. What wouldn’t you give to wake up next to him every morning?

The pub was almost empty, when you left. You couldn’t hold his hand on the way out. Everybody in Small Heath was Tommy’s spy. Back on the streets a cold wind blew. Now you had an excuse to go near him and he shared his coat with you. Isaiah was always so sweet and caring. You knew you wanted to spend your future with him. There was no other man and you wouldn’t get over him, not now and not in five years.

You even took off your shoes before entering the Jesus household and followed him on your tiptoes to his room. It was completely dark in the house and the silence was haunting, but good for you, you knew the way by now. The excitement made your fingers tremble.

Finally you arrived where you wanted to be the whole day, in his room. Isaiah closed the door as quietly as possible and started smiling. You walked up to him and started to unbutton his shirt. Now you didn’t want to waste any time.

And neither did Isaiah. He was ripping down your dress, which only worked because the straps were so thin. His hands were all over your body and you couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his skin. It felt like magic whenever he touched you. You moaned, when he played with your bare breasts. To silence you he put his thumb on your lips, which you took as an invitation to suck it. Maybe it was mean to tease him like that, but you were desperate for his affection.

An hour later you laid next to him, your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. “You should leave, before we both fall asleep, babe”, he whispered, which caused you to sign. Leaving now was draining, even exhausting. After this wonderful sex, you were too tired to move anywhere, not to the bathroom and certainly not back to your cold bed.

You pouted your lips and tilted your head, so you could give him your puppy eyes and a pretty please with cream and a cherry on top. “Just ten more minutes. Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “That’s just because I’m in this bed and you like to use me as your personal giant pillow.” Your fingers hovered about his belly. Even though his muscles weren’t tense now, you could still feel the strength lying beneath his skin.

While your index finger drew circles around his bellybutton, you whined: “Maybe… just maybe that is true, but I still want to lay here for a bit. Otherwise I start to feel like a whore, who only comes for sex and leaves silently afterwards.” It wasn’t a knock against Lizzie or her job, but you didn’t like the feeling, when you got home and had to find sleep in your own bed. Even though you had a relationship with him, you still felt lonely. Especially when the sun was rising and nobody was by your side.

“You’re not a whore and you know that”, he argued looking a little concerned.

Then you turned on your back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m a Shelby and that is probably worse”, you scoffed.

Now Isaiah was silent and had no witty comeback for that. Maybe, because it was true. If you weren’t part of the family, you could be with anyone, whoever you wanted. Carrying the name Shelby was the only reason, why you had to hide your relationship with Isaiah.

After a while he mumbled: “Okay, stay for a while, but you should be back before they open the shop.” By that time you were already half asleep and yet his words made you smile. He wrapped his arms around you, the little spoon and purred like a cat. Just in this position the both of you fell asleep.

Loud steps were coming near the door, but they wouldn’t wake you up. The screaming of Isaiah’s name did. It was a familiar voice and it took you a couple of minutes to notice, it was your brother Finn who shouted and ran down the hall. Suddenly you were wide awake. You startled up and looked around the room. The sun was already up and shining through the window. Then you saw Isaiah, who was just as frightened as you were.

If Finn came rushing through that door, your secret relationship was no longer secret. “I locked the door last night”, he whispered, which was relieving to you, but still no perfect solution for this problem.

Now Finn arrived at the other side of the door and was knocking on it like crazy. “Isaiah, wake up! Y/N is gone. Nobody can find her and Michael said you were the last one with her in the bar”, your brother yelled. You could hear the panic in his voice, but you couldn’t get caught. Not now.

You stumbled out of the bed and collected your clothes, when you heard Isaiah ask: “What are you going to do? You can’t go out there. He will find out.” And you knew your boyfriend wasn’t concerned about Finn, more about Tommy.

The tension in the room was immense. You had to come up with a plan or your brothers would shoot your lover in front of your eyes.

Suddenly you knew what to do. You pushed the pile of clothing to your chest and squeeze it thigh, when you explained in a lower tone: “I’m gonna hide in the wardrobe and then you open the door and go with Finn away. Afterwards I can come out and then I go to the betting shop and tell the others I have fallen asleep on a bench or something.” It was not the best plan, but yet your only option.

Isaiah nodded and you climbed into the cabinet where he stored his shirt and jackets. The second you entered the small wooden space, you knew it was all going down. Call it intuition, call it divination, call it whatever power Polly owned, but you felt it rushing through your body. He closed the door behind you and then you could hear him stumble into his pants.

Only half clothed he unlocked the door to let Finn in. Isaiah was still sleepy. He wasn’t the morning type of person and before he hadn’t had his breakfast he wasn’t really available. Finn strode up and down. You heard is nervous steps. “Everybody is freaking out right now. Polly thinks somebody kidnapped her or worse. I mean, she has always been unratable in her doings, but this time my sister is really going of the edge. It’s already past lunch and nobody has seen her”, Finn explained: “This morning her bed was empty and I thought I shouldn’t worry, but now I’m afraid I should have said something sooner.”

The cabinet was very uncomfortable and yet you tried not to move or to make a noise, which would cause Finn’s attention. However, being in Isaiah’s position didn’t seem to be pleasant as well. He had to lie to his best friend about the whereabouts of his missing sister, knowing she was sitting right here. Isaiah patted his friends shoulder and said nothing.

Finn didn’t calm down and seemed to be upset, Isaiah wasn’t panicking like him. “C’mon, get dressed. We have to look for her. She might be lying somewhere in the dirt. We shouldn’t waste even more time, standing around.” Then he walked to the closet and opened just the door where you had been hiding.

Butt-naked you fell down to the floor and looked up to your younger brother, who had the same face expression as the one time you told him where the babies were coming from. Some when later you would look back at this moment and would have a good laugh about this, but right now it felt like your world was collapsing.

He should have seen you like this and it took you a whole minute to gather the mental energy to get back up at your feet and greet him like it was the normal thing to do in a situation like this. “Hey, Finny, there I am.”

Your brother froze mid movement and stared at you as if you were the first pink elephant the world has seen or a bear riding a bike. Then he broke the silence. “What?”, he winced. There was no anger in his voice, just total confusion.

Finn looked to Isaiah and then back to you. “You screwed my sister?!”

There was no answer to this question.

“How long?” Finn asked: “How long did you hide that from me?”

You glared over to you boyfriend as if you were asking him for permission to say something. Isaiah signed and nodded. There was no point in denying this anymore. It was over.

Now you had to tell the truth. “A couple of months, maybe a year or so”, you croaked and your voice sounded strange. Like it was not your own and even though you dreamt about finally opening up, it shouldn’t have been like this.

Your brother yelled: “A year?! A whole fucking year? Damn, I should be proud because apparently you two are excellent liars with no moral issues… you two deserve each other.” You heard the disgust and disappointment, when he spoke and it broke your heart. Back then, when the whole thing started you though he might be the only one of your brothers to understand you. How wonderfully wrong you were.

“No”, you said under your breath: “Don’t fucking do this to me. I would have told you, if you wouldn’t have run straight to Tommy after you knew. Everybody knows you can’t keep a secret. So don’t act like it was my fault or my mistake, because it’s not. I would have gladly told everybody, I’m like him very much, but you and Tommy and Arthur and John made it impossible for me to even talk with a guy who is not part of the gang. You can’t turn this around and act like you are the victim in all this.”

It was time for you to stand up for yourself and your decisions… and time for you to get dressed. You didn’t seem as responsible as you were when you were still naked and in front of the closed you have been hiding in. Now you knew how wrong it was to lie and hide your relationship, because it wasn’t their concern. It was your life, your body and your choice. Nobody could take that from you and certainly not your brothers. You weren’t afraid of them. All your life you saw how your brothers treated women and you said nothing about it, but this should change right now.

So you stood there, furious and filled with rage, put on your dress and your shoes and said one last thing, before leaving: “This madness has to end.”

You stormed out of the room- not caring for Isaiah or Finn- and heading for the King of Small Heath to throw him out of his high throne. Your hair was a nest and you smelled like a bar after a dirty old night, when you entered the betting shop. Nobody was there, just the regular family members.

Everybody seemed to be relieved to see you again and then came close to hug you. Ada was right next to the door and the first to greet you. “Oh my god, you’re back, sweetie”, she muttered.

Next was Polly who examined your appearance for cuts and other injuries. Of course you had none, besides the hickeys Isaiah gave you. She tried to take a closer look of your neck, but you pulled away, which caused her to ask: “What happened? Where were you all night?”

Now Tommy was coming up to you. His steps were slow, but fierce and the glare in his eyes was pinching. “Just from the smell I would guess, she was with a guy this night”, he scoffed: “She probably had a lot of fun, but now she should say, who that guy was, so we can take actions.” You knew he was addressing you, even though he didn’t phrase it like that.

“I don’t think, this is your business”, you replied with a grin on your face. You wouldn’t back down. Not this time. “But yes, I was with a guy tonight. So you don’t need to worry. I’m completely fine.”

Your older brother led out a little laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Well, well, well, I don’t care what you think. I’m your brother and it’s my job to make sure you’re safe”, he explained: “And now you tell me who he was.” Ah, past tense, a hint of what was going to happen.

You crossed your arms and tiled your head to give him a dismissive look. “Who said it was your job?” was your comeback, but your brother wasn’t remotely impressed. Neither of you would let the other win. You were too stubborn for this gesture of insight.

Others, including Arthur and John, were somehow intimidated by Tommy’s behavior, but not you. Actually, you learned too much from him to take his shit. He taught you to help your head up high and how to outsmart your enemies. Now you could use the same strategies against him.

“Ever since our father left and mom died, you act like you are in charge, but you’re not. We are your siblings, not your pawn, waiting for your command”, you hissed: “I have my own life and I make my own decisions and who I meet shouldn’t concern you.” Slowly your anger grew. It was a boiling feeling in your gut, like you were fueled with fire.

Tommy was getting gleaming red. You had hit the right spot and you knew you would hurt him with your words, but otherwise he wouldn’t understand. The words were stuck in his throat as he killed you with his looks.

Patiently, you waited for his answer. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, but silencing your brother was the best thing ever, since he was the reason why you felt miserable lately. “No comeback? No arguments, dear?” You loved to poke his wounds and you did it with a huge smile on your face.

“As if you would listen to me… You even said it yourself. You wouldn’t take my advice”, he responded and bid his lip. “But I don’t need to talk to you to teach you a lesson. You’re too young to fuck around town and I’m going to find the bastard who did this and kill him.”

The door was opened behind you and soon Finn entered the room. You gave your little brother the death glare you were known for. He shouldn’t get the idea he was allowed to talk about what he found out.

You should be raging right now, but all you could do was laugh. His empty threats weren’t as daunting as he thought. With nothing but spite you whistled: “I would love to see you try. I kept this a secret for over a year now and you noticed nothing. And now I can wait another year for you to find him… or I could run away… whatever you prefer.”

Now you’re pushing your luck. Finn could ruin everything, if he just said one wrong word. The palms of your hands were sweaty. It was a dangerous game you played there, but it was not like you could back out of it now. This was road of no return.

Tommy seemed to be more surprised than fuming, when he asked: “You slept with some geezers for a year now?” He respected your talent to keep it under the radar. Everybody who could shirk his rules deserved acknowledgement for putting up with this risk. Maybe he was finally realizing how much you had grown. You weren’t his little kitten anymore.

“No, not geezers, just one guy”, you corrected him: “But yes, that is true.”

You watched Tommy as he walked around the table, heading for the whiskey, while he nodded understandingly. “Mh, so you would say it’s love?”

A sign came from your lips. You already knew the answer, but you weren’t so sure, if you should say this out loud. After all, you didn’t even have a proper talk about this with Isaiah. Silence was filling the room, while you calculated your risks. If you said, you loved him and Isaiah wasn’t as serious about the relationship, you would look like an idiot. Good for you, he didn’t come to the betting shop to witness the fight between you and your brother. Finally you decided to tell everybody: “Yes, I do.”

“Good”, Tommy mumbled while he poured his whiskey: “Then you should have my blessing. Just give us the name now.” He took a sip and seemed to be amused by your embarrassment.

Talking about Isaiah, while he wasn’t present, was weird, but you knew why he stayed in the comfort of his own room. You weren’t mad at him for not running after you. This was your fight and not his. And after all your brothers were a little scary, when it comes to stuff like this.

But you had Tommy’s word now and nothing should happen to your man. You shrugged and rolled with your eyes. The fuss they made about this was still annoying.

Ada patted your shoulder and encouraged you to speak. “Do we know him?” The answer was yes, but it was also the reason, why you struggled to say it out loud.

Even John chimed in and kept pushing: “Yeah, what’s up with this fella?” He was smiling to let you know the mood had changed. Nobody was against you anymore.

“It’s…”, you started and fumbled for the seam of your dress: “It’s Isaiah.”

At first it was dead silence, while the others processed the information, then Arthur and John burst out in laughter. Finn seemed to be relieved, because he would have hated it to keep a secret like this. Your older sister was hugging you a little too tight and even Polly was smiling.

Tommy had a smug on his face when he muttered: “If that’s the case, then you should have your happiness.”

“Isaiah is a fine fella. You will be alright”, hummed Arthur. Apparently everybody was happy with your choice. You just had to stand up for yourself.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders and then you could laugh about it too. But suddenly you remember that Isaiah was still waiting for his death in his room. “I should go and let him of the hook”, you fluted and already went to the door when you heard Tommy said: “Don’t get pregnant or he has to marry you.”

#peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky #peaky blinder fanfic #isiah jesus #isaiah jesus #daryl mccormack #peaky fookin blinders #tommy shelby #shelby sister #isiah x reader #isiah x you #fanfic #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders x y/n

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years ago

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But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 18: Summers In Florence] [Series Finale]

A/N: If it doesn’t end with a wedding, is it even my fic??! 😂 For those who somehow haven’t yet read Baby You Were My Picket Fence (my most popular series), you might be a tiny bit confused during this chapter. Just roll with it. 😉 Also, COVID-19 doesn’t exist. What a wonderful world. Thank you so much for sticking with me and BYCNL. I love you all. 💜

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.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @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 @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @anotheronewritesthedust1 @pomjompish @writerxinthedark @culturefiendtrashqueen @allauraleigh @deakydeacy @bluutac @johndeaconshands @nyxaura

It’s May 25th, 1984, and Roger and John are in Perth, Australia to promote Queen’s eleventh album, The Works.

Interviewer, daytime television host Ronald Inglewood: “Good morning and welcome to our viewers across Australia! We’re sitting down this morning with Roger Taylor and John Deacon, respectively the drummer and bassist of Queen, who are here to talk about the band’s brand new album called—quite self-assuredly, if I may say so, gentlemen—The Works. Hello to you both.”

Roger: “Good morning, Ron!”

John: “Hello.”

Interviewer: “And this latest album has been rather well-received so far, is that right?”

Roger: “It has, yes, and we’re enormously proud of it.”

Interviewer: “Now, The Works is a very different album than Hot Space, Queen’s sort of notorious foray into disco...do you think the back-to-basics, classic rock and roll feel of The Works has been the driving force behind its success?”

Roger: “Well, you know...I think experimentation is very important. We’ve always been an experimental band. The single Bohemian Rhapsody was hugely experimental, and that’s why it was such a phenomenon. We were experimenting long before A Night At The Opera, and I suspect we’ll keep on trying new things until we run out of ideas, whenever that is! I didn’t love every song on Hot Space, I’ll be completely transparent about that, but I certainly don’t think the album was a failure or a waste of time. It was an experiment. And The Works is an experiment as well, just one that runs in a different vein, I suppose.”

John: “Some people did actually enjoy Hot Space.”

Roger: “I think I know one or two.”

Interviewer: “Of course, it did have its bright spots. Under Pressure remains one of Queen’s biggest hits, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Yes, and John wrote the bassline for that one!”

Interviewer: “Really?!”

John: “And Roger has his own hit on The Works, at last. We’re all very happy for him.”

Roger: “Only took ten years.”

John: “Fourteen, actually.”

Roger: “I’m going to murder you as soon as we get backstage.”

John: “You’re welcome to try.”

Interviewer: “Now this hit of yours, Roger, is Radio Ga Ga. And I’m sure we’ve all seen the famous music video, the hovercraft, the futurism, the clapping...we’ve all seen it, right? Where on earth did you get the idea for that song?”

Roger: “It actually originated from something I heard my daughter Violet say.”

Interviewer: “Fascinating! And you’ve just welcomed another one recently, haven’t you?”

Roger: “Yes, last month, in fact. A little girl named Nora. “

Interviewer: “Congratulations!”

Roger: “Thanks so much, Ron. Our eldest, Violet, turned two in January, and the idea for Radio Ga Ga came about when she was first learning to talk. She would always stumble around—you know how babies do—clapping her hands and squealing the most nonsensical things, and one day she started trying out ‘radio’ and then adding random words to it, ‘radio goo goo,’ ‘radio mama,’ ‘radio dada,’ etcetera. Well ‘radio ga ga’ got stuck in my head and I started sort of lamenting how television had begun to eclipse the radio as a medium for music and entertainment. We were on vacation in California at the time, and I locked myself in a hotel room with a keyboard and a drum machine to get it written. I initially thought it might end up on one of my solo albums, but then John heard it and wrote a bassline, and Freddie really thought it could be a hit and pushed to have it on The Works...and here we are today!”

Interviewer: “That Freddie Mercury has awfully good instincts about these things, doesn’t he?”

John: “Oh, he’s a genius, no doubt about that.”

Interviewer: “And John, I understand you wrote the other single released from The Works, I Want To Break Free. Any deep philosophical messaging in that one?”

John: “Well I suppose we’ve all been in situations that feel...rather constraining or hopeless. And then things that bring us back to life again. So this song is about a character going through that process and coming out on the other side.”

Interviewer: “Indeed.”

John: “But we wanted to keep things amusing and lighthearted in the music video, hence the dressing in drag bit. And to our absolute horror, Roger was very alluring as a schoolgirl.”

Roger: “It’s true. I have irresistible legs. I was born to wear miniskirts.”

Interviewer: “Ah, this is the music video that is beloved in Europe and here in Australia but has stirred up so much controversy over in the States. Has the hullabaloo dampened your enthusiasm for the song, or even the entire album, somewhat?”

Roger: “We’re not bothered much at all, to be honest with you. It’s like I said, Queen is always going to have fun and experiment and take creative risks. And if people don’t like it, then they’re welcome to not listen.”

Interviewer: “Yes, yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Roger: “Americans, you know, they can just be so bloody puritanical. It absolutely takes all the enjoyment out of life. All the humor. Americans these days can be very difficult for us to connect with.”

John: “Well, not all of them.”

Roger: “No, of course, not all of them.”

John: “But we’ll start touring at the end of August, and we’ll be spending several months in the States, so they have time to come around to us. We’re all really looking forward to being on the road again.”

Interviewer: “It has certainly been and will continue to be a very eventful year for Queen. And for the four of you personally. A new baby for Roger, and you’ve just gotten married, haven’t you John?”

John: “I did, yes. And Roger was in attendance! No miniskirt that day, though. Sadly.”

Roger: “The whole band was there. And my girlfriend and children too. It was quite a party.”

Interviewer: “That’s wonderful to hear, considering the...the...well, not to bring up tabloid gossip, but the complexity of the situation. It was a destination wedding, wasn’t it?”

John: “Yes, we were married in the Basilica di Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. It’s breathtaking, the largest Franciscan church in the world, built in the 1300s. And we filled it with friends and family and live music and flowers and food...all the trappings. Took about a million photos. Celebrated until dawn.”

Roger: “It was a very sentimental occasion. Everyone really enjoyed it. John cried.”

John: “I did, it’s true.”

Roger: “He promised he wouldn’t and then he did.”

John: “Well, you don’t have to bring it up all the time!”

Roger: “It was touching, really.”

Interviewer: “It must have been a magical time. You’re positively radiant, John! Marvelous. And some much-needed good news, I imagine. I understand you’ve recently gone through an exceptionally antagonistic and protracted divorce.”

John: “Well...uh...I suppose that’s...uh...”

Roger: “How about we ask you the same thing? How was your divorce, Ron?”

Interviewer: “What?”

Roger: “You’re on your third marriage, is that right? And I think I heard that the latest Mrs. Inglewood is very young indeed, almost thirty years your junior. How did your former wife take that news? How did your adult children? How was your goddamn divorce?”

Interviewer: “That’s a rude question.”

Roger: “Yes, you’re right, it’s an extremely rude question. So you shouldn’t fucking ask it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s December 25th, 1986, and the children are tearing open presents under a fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree in the living room of Garden Lodge.

Freddie and Jim Hutton are serving cookies and milk and clapping their hands as they tower over tiny shoulders, cheering the kids on as they litter the floor with wrapping paper and bows and scatter their new toys everywhere: Care Bears, Magic 8 Balls, My Little Ponies, Mr. Potato Heads, Barbies, Etch-A-Sketches, Transformers, miniature Lukes and Leias and Chewbaccas, View-Masters with scenes of oceans and deserts and forests and stars. With so many fragmented families, there was only one logical approach to handling major holidays: convincing everyone to celebrate together on neutral ground.

Mary and Veronica are chatting by the roaring fireplace. Phoebe, Joe Fanelli, John, and Roger are embroiled in a brutally competitive Scrabble game; Dominique, smirking stealthily, leans over Roger to read his tiles and periodically whispers ideas to him. Brian and Anita are circling the flock of giggling children—Laszlo, Anna, Teddy, Evelyn, Lena, Antoni, Violet, and Nora—and snapping photos with your Canon between long, yearning gazes at one another, wearing matching Christmas sweaters that are a deep, passionate crimson. Chrissie’s husband Denny is admiring Freddie’s extensive vinyl record collection as he sips a hot chocolate and compulsively strokes his green-and-red striped tie. Tiffany the cat rolls around between his feet and occasionally hisses or gnaws on an ankle, which Denny takes in stride, as he does most things.

Meanwhile, you and Chrissie are camped out by the wet bar, drinking mulled wine and nibbling on cookies shaped like snowmen and reindeer. You give Veronica a wide berth with the children anytime you’re in the same space; she hates you, and she’ll probably always hate you, but she loves her children too much to poison them with that reality. Their happiness is her whole life, her purpose. And that’s the only thing that finally convinced her to come to the bargaining table.

“She seems...nice,” you tell Chrissie, gesturing to where Anita is crouching to wrestle a Yoda piggy bank away from Antoni before he can lob Teddy on the head with it. To John’s children, Veronica is “mum” and you’re the distinctly more American “mama”; and no one ever really taught them that, they just started doing it somewhere along the way.

Chrissie rolls her eyes and shifts Stevie to her other hip. For two and a half years after leaving Brian, Chrissie made it her mission to date at least one man from every country in Europe. She managed to cross off Ireland, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland, Portugal, Poland, and Greece before meeting professional archer Dennis Clarke at the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. They got engaged at Christmas, eloped on New Year’s Day, and had a daughter that Chrissie named after Stevie Nicks nine months later. Stevie Clarke has adorably chubby baby legs, wide blue eyes, and blonde hair without a single spiraled ringlet.

“My therapist said I needed to cultivate a rapport with Brian for the good of the kids,” Chrissie says. “You know. Be the bigger person. Get amnesia and forget about how he made my life a living hell. Act like I don’t want to freaking decapitate him. So I, trying to be nice, trying to rise above and make polite small talk with my nauseating ex-husband, made a comment about how much I liked EastEnders. So he starts watching EastEnders. Then he begins to fancy one of the actresses. Then he meets her at a movie premier in Beverly Hills and invites her to the concert at Wembley. Then he ends up in love with the woman. What the fuck. You couldn’t write this shit.”

“Love is a roulette wheel,” you agree.

Chrissie scoffs sardonically. “Yeah. Russian roulette, maybe.”

After his marriage fell apart, Brian bounced between New Orleans and London, liberated bliss and aimless, disgraced, black depression. Whoever Peaches is as a person, she couldn’t tame Brian’s demons. You worried about him almost constantly until he started seeing Anita. She’s cheerful and magnetic and persistently hopeful in a way that reminds you of Roger. She’s good for Brian. She’s good for all of you. Well...Chrissie is still coming around to the idea.

“I do like that she wasn’t fucking my husband behind my back,” Chrissie muses. “So that’s something.”

“And she’s good with the kids.”

“True...”

“And her hair matches Brian’s.”

Chrissie laughs. Her sparkling ornament earrings jangle, and Stevie paws for them with minuscule, uncoordinated, wrinkly hands. “Okay. You win. I don’t despise her.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit.” You knock back the rest of your mulled wine. “I’m gonna go search the refrigerator for cheese cubes, you want anything?”

“Yeah, a Valium.”

“Slavic Jesus would be horrified. And on his birthday!”

Chrissie grins. “Surely drugs would be the least of our sins.”

Freddie’s sunshine-yellow refrigerator is enormous and a labyrinth of shelves and crevices without a single tray of cheese cubes in sight. You sift through jars of olives, bottles of champagne, a glazed ham waiting to be put in the oven, a sack of yams, eggnog, rising bread dough, and numerous pies—apple and cherry and lemon chiffon, naturally—swathed in aluminum foil.

“Damn,” you mutter, and then you try a mysterious drawer beneath the double doors of the refrigerator. Lo and behold, it contains a sprawling tray of cheeses. “Yaaaaassssss.” You lift the tray out, set it on the kitchen counter, and peel back the clear, clinging saran wrap. As you spear cheese cubes with a decorative toothpick—the handle is a little plastic Christmas tree—and plop them onto an appetizer plate, you hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor behind you.

You glance back. “Hi, Dom. Can I offer you any of Fred’s extremely expensive and exotic cheeses?”

“Sure,” she replies in that effortlessly elegant French accent; but that’s not why she’s here. She’s wringing her delicate hands, which are bronzed from her last holiday to Ibiza and ringless. Dom divorced the husband she had back in France—or maybe he divorced her, who knows, that’s not your business, although Roger would tell you if you ever asked—and she and Roger signed papers for the good of their daughters. But being Roger Taylor’s wife is not always such an easy thing.

“He’s getting bad again, isn’t he?” you ask softly.

Dominique nods; but you already knew.

Roger was perfect for years after they had Violet: attentive, content, startlingly domestic. He rarely popped pills. He went to physical therapy. He quit smoking six months ago at Dominique’s insistence, around the same time John quit for you. But since the Magic Tour ended in August—and with no new tour in sight, considering Freddie’s seeming reticence about scheduling another—he’s started to drink more, stay home less, disappear at night citing dinners or parties or recording sessions that Dom isn’t invited to. He’s edgy and irritable. He’s rarely home when John calls. And you can see all those immortal shadows of imperfection creeping back into him like storm clouds, like smoke.

“I’m going to tell you something,” you say. “It’s very similar to what somebody else once told me. I wasn’t ready to understand it yet, to really let myself feel it, to believe it, but you might be able to.”

She watches you with those vast oil-well eyes, biting her lower lip, waiting.

“Roger is wildfire. He’s bright, yes, he’s warm, but he’s reckless and insatiable too. He always has been. He always will be. And that has nothing at all to do with you. It’s not your fault. He’s wonderful, of course, and you already know that; he dazzles people, he makes life so exhilaratingly beautiful that you forget what it felt like without him. But he’ll always disappoint you. He’ll relapse, he’ll cheat, he’ll come home late, he won’t come home at all. And he’ll hurt you. He’ll do it as many times as you’ll let him. But here’s the thing other people won’t tell you.” You smile at her, with empathy, with sorrow, with hope. “It might still be worth it.”

Dominique blinks, not understanding.

“It might be enough for you to only ever have part of him, because that part is so incredibly brilliant. It was almost enough for me. And I would never blame you for leaving Roger. But I wouldn’t blame you for staying either.”

And then you embrace her, and she latches onto you, her long manicured nails nipping through your sweater, her Coco Chanel perfume a plume that fills the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. You hold her until she pulls away, swiping at her tearing eyes with slim fragile fingers, sniffling, looking away to hide her heartbreak behind her shock of glossy bangs.

“Here.” You pile an appetizer plate high with cheese cubes and shove it into her hands.

Stunned, she giggles. “All my woes have vanished.”

“That’s exactly how stolen cheese works,” And then, seriously: “Don’t be sad on Christmas, Dom. There’s plenty of time for that later. And I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

“That’s why you’ll never leave the band, isn’t it? You can’t leave Roger alone. You can’t let him destroy himself.”

“I owe him,” you say simply. “Without him I never would have followed Queen to London. I never would have found this family. I never would have married John. Roger took things from me, yes, of course he did. He took until I felt empty. But he also gave me the world.”

She nods slowly, thoughtfully.

“Please, Dom. Go enjoy yourself.”

“Alright. Joyeux Noël.” She gives you a parting wave and slips back out into the living room, where Freddie is now playing the grand piano and signing Thank God It’s Christmas. Roger is assisting in an increasingly hoarse falsetto.

A moment after Dominique leaves, John strolls into the kitchen, humming merrily. He stops dead when he sees your somber face, your shining eyes. “Who do I have to fuck up?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No one. I just heard something sad.”

“Not about you, I hope.”

“No, I don’t have many sad stories anymore.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He reaches out to take your hand. A sapphire glints on your left ring finger, and it means everything.

“You sure you don’t need me to torment anyone for you? I could get drunk and plow my Benz into their house. Or write a scathing diss track about them. Was it Brian? Please tell me it was Brian.”

You laugh and twirl a lock of his fluffy hair. “That won’t be necessary.”

“In that case, you’re needed in the living room immediately,” John says, smiling. “Antoni climbed halfway up the Christmas tree and says he won’t come down for anyone except his mama.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s November 3rd, 1999, and Roger, John, and Brian are promoting Queen’s upcoming compilation album, Greatest Hits III.

Interviewer, daytime television host Brad Chenoweth: “Today we have a very special treat for our viewers. Here with us in our London studio are the men of Queen: guitarist Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor, and bassist John Deacon. Good morning, and thank you all so much for being here.”

Brian: “It’s our pleasure.”

Roger: “I do screams as well as drums, Brad.”

Interviewer: “Hahaha, yes, of course. Now Queen has had an extremely busy year, and this Greatest Hits album has a few new selections on it, right? Take us through that process.”

Brian: “It does have a few new tracks, that’s correct. You know, ever since Freddie...ever since we lost Freddie Mercury, I mean, you know, it’s impossible to fill a space like the one that he left in the world.”

Roger: “Yes, yes.”

Brian: “But as difficult as it was, after finally finishing Made In Heaven in 1995 and getting it just right, feeling as if we had really done Freddie justice...we were left with this distressing feeling of ‘what’s next?’ What are the three of us supposed to do with ourselves? Split up and never work together again? Retire to the seashore? Open up some corner store to putter around in until we die?”

Roger: “A clog shop, perhaps.”

Interviewer: “You were thinking, ‘well hell, we’ve got plenty of talent ourselves!’”

Roger: “Well, talent, yes, but also energy. Drive. We’ve been working at being one of the best bands in the world for almost thirty years now, Brad. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to stop.”

Brian: “None of us wanted to stop, we came to that realization. And so we’ve done a tremendous amount of benefit concerts and recording sessions with some of the best artists of our time, and I think people who listen to this album are really going to appreciate that. We’ve got a live version of Somebody to Love with George Michael, and The Show Must Go On with Elton John, he’s just lovely to work with...oh and a rap version of Another One Bites The Dust with Wyclef Jean, which John was not exactly a fan of. But we all have to learn to give and take, don’t we?”

Interviewer: “Absolutely, and I’m really looking forward to getting my hands on a copy of this record. Is there any chance Queen might settle on a permanent new front man one day?”

Roger: “If we can ever find somebody John likes enough!”

Interviewer: “But, truthfully...none of you wanted to quit after Freddie passed away? It was a unanimous decision to keep with it?”

Roger: “Essentially, yes. I mean I think it was an all or nothing deal, wasn’t it? If one of us left then that would throw the whole thing off. I was always adamant from very early on in the band’s lifetime that I wouldn’t be interested in continuing without John. And I couldn’t imagine him and Brian being left alone together, my god, there’d be literal bloodshed, someone’s throat would be cut within the hour, believe me.”

John: “We might have lasted a day or two. But yes, it was more or less unanimous.”

Interviewer: “Now you’ve always been known as the quiet, domestic one, John. You weren’t tempted by the thought of retirement? Not even for a moment?”

John: “Well...I think it depends on the circumstances, really. I like working, and I like touring and traveling a good part of the year. But I imagine I’d get very homesick if I was alone on the road. Fortunately, that’s not the case. So the thought of retirement didn’t appeal to me nearly as much as it might have otherwise.”

Interviewer: “That’s right, I understand that your wife has been Queen’s touring nurse for...how long now? Twenty years?”

John: “Since 1974, so that’s twenty-five years.”

Roger: “Wow. It’s been that long?!”

Brian: “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

Interviewer: “How lucky for you, John. And look, you’re beaming!”

Roger: “Get it together, Deaks.”

John: “I’m an astronomically lucky man. It’s like having home with you anywhere in the world.”

Roger: “She’s good for curing hangovers as well, so that’s useful. And she knits everyone hats.”

Interviewer: “And you’ve got children, haven’t you John?’

John: “Four from my first marriage, yes. They’re all adults now so they come to visit us quite often, especially when we’re travelling. It worked out beautifully really, because they’re very close to their mother, of course, but my wife and I got together when they were all still fairly young, and so she’s always been there for them as they’ve grown up. My youngest especially was a rather...how would you say it diplomatically? A spirited child. But he warmed to her right away.”

Brian: “All the children are still friendly with each other as well, mine and Roger’s and John’s.”

Interviewer: “One big happy family, huh?”

Roger: “There are still a good amount of screaming matches between us dads, to be completely forthcoming.”

John: “You have to keep things interesting.”

Roger: “Exactly!”

Interviewer: “Yes, one can sense that there are still plenty of egos in this room, even after all these years! Tell me, Queen is nearly three decades old now, a worldwide phenomenon, the second-bestselling artist in the UK of all time behind the Beatles...how have you stayed together for so long when most bands last only a fraction of Queen’s lifespan?”

John: “Well I think we’ve all, you know, for the good of the band we’ve all had to grow towards each other to bridge the disagreements and keep peace. For example, I’ve had to learn to be more communicative, more open to collaboration and change. I can be someone who’s very comfortable being in the background. But then I’m resentful if people don’t see my point of view, even if I haven’t properly expressed it. So I have certainly had to work on that quite a lot.”

Brian: “Yes, John, I think that’s very true. Personally, I’ve had to learn to not get lost in the details so much. I have a bad habit of getting so fixated on something that I cause a massive row over a vanishingly small aspect of a song that no one else will ever notice. It’s just not worth the strife. So I’ve really tried to avoid that. Although, I’ll admit it, I still occasionally cause my share of drama.”

John: “Oh, sure.”

Roger: “And I’ve had to work on being less...”

John: “Annoying?”

Brian: “Combative?”

Roger: “Fiery.”

John: “That’s one word for it.”

Interviewer: “Was there ever a time when Queen’s existence was in serious jeopardy? And if so, how did you pull through?”

Brian: “Well, to be perfectly honest, as a band we went through quite a difficult time in the early 80s. And then we did again in the early 90s. And on both occasions there was a real worry that Queen might be over and we would all go our separate ways. But what kept us together through that...and feel free to disagree, Rog, John, if you have a different perspective...but what I feel kept us together was this profound sense of family. Queen predates all of our marriages, our children, our successes in the music industry or otherwise. It has become a constant place of belonging in the midst of professional and personal turmoil. And now our partners and children have been integrated into that network as well, so even if an individual relationship is strained or falls apart, the gravity of the band keeps us all in a perpetual symbiotic orbit. And I don’t see that ever ending.”

John: “Yes, well, I suppose that about sums it up, doesn’t it?”

Roger: “Bleeding christ, Brian. ‘Perpetual symbiotic orbit.’ Just say we’re friends, you pretentious twit.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s August 19th, 2020, and John’s 69th birthday party is winding down as the sun dips lazily into the rust-colored western horizon.

You’re standing on the cobblestones in the garden behind the Surrey house. You had always thought it was too extravagant, too massive; it wasn’t until Roger sold it to you and John in the spring of 1982 that you realized it was the perfect size after all. Six bedrooms meant one for each of the children, one for you and John—the one with the blue-grey wallpaper and nautical decorations, to be exact—and the last for when Chrissie and Denny or Roger and Dom stay the night, which is fairly frequently. Your vacation home, where you and John spend most of the summer when Queen isn’t on tour, is a little country cottage in the sunlit Alpine hills of Florence, Italy. John designed it himself, every last detail; right down to the white picket fence grown over with ivy.

“Look what we got in the mail.” You hold up the invitation to show your husband, grinning, raising your eyebrows. “Guess we have to buy him another toaster.”

He reads the names on the shimmering cardstock patterned with jungle ferns and dinosaur footprints. Interesting choices. “Is Ben actually going through with it this time?”

“John!”

“Wasn’t he supposed to marry some Italian heiress or something?”

“Love can be complicated, Mr. Deacon,” you remind him.

When he smiles, crinkles spring up around his eyes. “Yes, I suppose it can be.”

“Ben Hardy’s having another wedding?” Chrissie calls over from where she’s shooting arrows at the archery targets set up in the backyard. Denny periodically steps in to correct the angle of her wrist or elbow. “And Queen’s invited this time?”

“Apparently,” you reply. “You could go too if you were still married to Brian.”

“Ha!” Chrissie cackles and looses an arrow. It hits damn near the bullseye. “Not worth it.”

“I’ll bring back all the scandalous gossip I can scrounge for you.”

“You better. What do the kids call it now? Spilling the tea? Spill all the tea, bitch.”

“Oh, kettles and kettles’ worth.”

“So a teapot,” John says. “Not another toaster. Maybe decorated with...” He squints at the invitation again. “What’s the theme? What do they like? Fossils? Brontosauruses?”

“Bizarre people,” Chrissie mutters.

“I’ll figure something out,” you say. “Something special. Something old.”

“John?” Brian shouts from the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Inside the refrigerator is covered with sketches and birthday cards and photographs curling and fading around the edges. “Anita and I are heading out now, can we get a hug goodbye?”

“Ugh,” John jokes. “Well, alright.” He gives you a wink as he trots off.

The Surrey house isn’t exactly roaring—John has never been one for crowds, and incidentally neither have you—but it is alive with his children and grandchildren and life-long friends. Not just his, you correct yourself. Ours.

Veronica—once Tetzlaff, then Deacon, then Tetzlaff again, and finally Kowalski—is not in attendance. You see her only at holidays and birthday celebrations for the kids and grandchildren, and even then only in passing. She is still cold towards you, resentful, extremely Catholic...although somewhat less dogmatic since her second husband Ivan, a former priest, left the Church to marry her. When the last of her children were grown, Veronica got certified to be a doula and now primarily serves unwed mothers seeking assistance from Catholic charities in London. She mentioned to Chrissie, who later told you, that something you had once done for her had inspired her to pursue it. That’s the only nice thing you’ve heard her say about you in almost forty years.

Roger wanders over to meet you, nursing a Heineken, stroking his white beard with his free hand. He and Dominique have always been off and on—including a few years in the late 80s when he moved out of their three-story Kensington townhouse and had a daughter called Adeline with some leggy, platinum blonde supermodel—but these days they’re mostly on. He and Dom had two children after their reconciliation: a son, Blaise, and a daughter named by Freddie after the Japanese word for tiger, Tora.

You gaze out into the sunset. Half of the garden is flooded with white calla lilies, a new bouquet for every February 15th since 1978.

“You’ll be sending back an RSVP in the affirmative?” Roger asks.

“Of course! Any excuse to visit the States. And I like Ben. Although he doesn’t look anything like you.”

He groans. “Those wigs, bloody hell.”

“It’s like they produced a whole movie just to have an excuse to make fun of your atrociously crunchy bleached hair.”

“And I bet you enjoyed that.”

“You deserved it.” When Freddie’s health began to fail and Queen stopped touring, you went back to school to get a degree in physical therapy. You and Roger have sessions three times a week, provided he’s on the wagon; and he usually is, nowadays. When he’s not, John’s the one to get the call from Dominique, and he hunts Roger down, convinces him to come home, works whatever quiet, soothing magic he carries around in his deep pacific blood. But right this moment, Roger is awfully quiet himself. His large, pale eyes—like clear water, like unraveling delphiniums, like the harmony that only comes when age burns away all those last entrenched talons of bitterness, of fear—skate over the calla lilies.

“Do you think things would have been different for us?” Roger asks softly. “If she had lived.”

It took you a long time to understand why Roger was in no hurry to get a divorce, to move you out of the Surrey house. They were the only ties he thought he had to anchor you to the band, to him. They were the only cards he thought he had to play to keep you in his life in any capacity. But John fixed that dilemma. He can fix just about anything, you’ve learned.

“No,” you tell Roger. “You would have worn me down eventually. You and your drinking and drugs and late nights and interminable recklessness. It might have taken longer, but we always would have ended. And John always would have been my home. She wouldn’t have kept us together. She just would have lived. And I wouldn’t have loved her for being a part of you. I would have loved her for whoever she was, whoever she grew up to be. But now I’ll never know who that would have been. I love the children I have, Roger, I do. But I still miss her, miss the person she would have been. It’s like chasing a shadow. It’s like a page of a book written in a language I can’t read. And it’s a feeling that never quite goes away.”

He smiles at you wearily, immensely sad, full of perfect understanding. “I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s October 10th, 2020, and the reception is held under shedding autumn leaves the color of rubies and imperial topaz and amber and yellow jade. The exuberant bride and groom weave through the crowds milling about the quaint farm, which is nestled in the hills of a small town in Northern California called Zenia. It belongs to Gwilym, apparently, and he and his flame-haired girlfriend Shiloh are shuttling tirelessly this way and that making sure everything goes according to plan. They don’t speak much to Ben or his new wife directly—there’s a stiltedness there, an uncomfortable period of readjustment that reminds you of how John and Roger were for a while after all the secrets came out—but there is undeniable kinship as well. Love can be complicated, you find yourself thinking, for the innumerable time. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.

Making the rounds with the bride and groom is a strikingly beautiful, dark-haired boy who wears a miniature suit and a perpetual, mischievous grin. The new Mrs. Hardy almost always has her hand on his shoulder, his back, wiping cake frosting from his cheeks, ruffling his hair.

“Eli is kind of a demon kid,” Joe Mazzello warns you. “But in the best possible way.”

“Hm. I have somewhat of an affinity for demons myself.”

“Clearly,” Roger quips, sipping pink champagne. The snack table is Halloween-themed and extremely casual: Cheetos and pumpkin pie and caramel apples and dinosaur-shaped brownies. Per usual, you’re grazing through an orange paper plate stacked high with enough nibbling material to keep any undesirable small talk at bay. But strangely, in all of the times you’ve crossed his path since Bohemian Rhapsody’s filming began, you’ve never minded chatting with Joe.

“Yeah, you two were married at some point, right?” Joe asks. Then he immediately blanches. “Oh my god. That was so rude. I did not just say that. I’m so sorry. I saw it on Wikipedia. I’m gonna go drown myself in the stream now.”

“No, you’re right!” you admit in a peal of laughter. “Briefly and disastrously.”

“It wasn’t that disastrous,” Roger protests, thieving a Cheeto off your plate. He misplaced his prescription sunglasses on the flight over and is thus relatively helpless.

“Rude. Get your own. They’re over on the other end of the table.”

“I can’t see that far—!”

“Dom?” you call as she sashays over in a flowing white dress and licking a stick of orange rock candy. “Please control your husband.”

She smiles. “If I haven’t managed it yet, I don’t think there’s much hope.” She nods to Joe. “It’s so nice to see you again. Meeting you people was the only bright spot of that whole movie ordeal.”

“What, you didn’t fancy it?” Roger jests.

“At least they included you,” you tell Dom, smirking. “They ignored my existence entirely. They threw in some random woman with zero lines and called her Veronica in the credits. Whatever.”

Dom rolls her expressive umber eyes. “Yes, how flattering, I was in two scenes and one of them involved a joke about Roger cheating on me.”

“You’re a star, baby,” you say. “Deal with it.”

Dom smacks your arm playfully. She may be annoyed, but it doesn’t pain her the way it used to. She’s had decades of practice.

“The script could have been better,” Joe concedes. Then he spies John as he approaches, almost drops his caramel apple, waves frenetically. “Hi, Mr. Deacon! Hi!!”

“Wonderful job with all of this, Joe.” John shakes his hand as Joe gapes at him, starstruck. He’s always like that around John, appreciative, in awe, acutely aware of John’s legendary place in rock and roll history; and you love that someone besides you and Roger look at him that way.

“Thanks, I did it myself. Just kidding. It was 99% Gwil.”

“Well, I’ll still get you front row seats at the next Queen + Adam Lambert show.” It had taken a long time for John to find a front man he liked...a long time. He drove Roger and Brian insane. He kept saying he wanted someone who was like Freddie and yet simultaneously not trying to be Freddie, someone genuinely kind and charismatic and empathetic, an otherworldly talent, a natural performer. And then, on an unassuming spring night in 2009, they found him.

Joe claps a palm on John’s shoulder and grins, his eyes glistening. “I’m obsessed with this little old guy! Obsessed, I tell you!”

“You want to see how old he is?” Roger teases. “Lift up that hand-knit hat and see what’s underneath. I’ll give you a hint. Not much.”

“At least I made it through the 90s without requiring hair plugs,” John counters.

“It was from all the bleaching!!”

“Hi, Rog!” Ben shouts as he rushes to embrace Roger, nearly knocking him off his feet. Mrs. Hardy is still across the field, talking to Brian, Anita, Rami, and Lucy, and trying to convince Eli not to crawl into a chocolate fountain.

Ben Hardy has always been somewhat of an enigma to you, mostly because he’s nothing at all like Roger. He’s subterranean-voiced and emerald-eyed and brooding and guarded and seems so much older than his twenty-nine years, and then every once in a while someone will come along and light him up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Unlike Roger, Ben doesn’t light up for many people. He does for his son Eli, of course, and for Joe Mazzello...and for his new wife. He lights up for her like fucking wildfire.

“Ben,” you say, holding out a bag speckled with black cats. “I have our gift for you.”

“You shouldn’t have! Thank you so much.”

“You can’t thank us until you open it,” John chastises.

So Ben does. Inside is an album of hundreds of photos you’ve taken of Queen since Roger bought you your first Canon for Christmas in 1974: pictures that have never been released publicly of the boys at the Rainbow, at the Budokan, in Rome, in Boston, in Japan, in New Orleans, at Montreal, at Madison Square Garden, at Live Aid, at the Surrey house, at Montreux. Interspersed are some of John’s sketches, the only ones you can bring yourself to part with: close-ups of a long-haired Freddie drawing on messy eyeliner, Roger adjusting his sunglasses with a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, Brian tuning his Red Special.

“Oh my god,” Ben whispers.

“Most of those are very old,” you explain. “And I heard you both like old things.”

“We definitely do.” He hugs you, suddenly and fiercely and warmly; and you catch a glimpse of what it must be like to be one of the few people that he allows to truly know him, those shadowed depths to balance Joe’s uncomplicated light.

Maybe that’s it, you realize. Maybe Joe is more like Roger and Ben like John.

The wedding playlist is exclusively classic rock songs: the Doors and Aerosmith and Fleetwood Mac and Led Zeppelin and Queen. As A Kind Of Magic ends, the eerie opening notes of Hotel California ripple out over the breezy autumn fields.

“Not this fucking song!” Roger cries.

Joe turns to you, confused.

“LSD,” you inform him. “1977. I would not recommend it.”

“Noted.”

Roger continues, rubbing his forehead: “It makes me think of...freaking...weird, creepy shit...like swimming at night through cold water. But I just keep swimming and can’t get anywhere.”

“It makes me think of sharks,” you say. “Maybe they’re related.”

“Freddie always said it made him think of birds,” John sighs. “And the color blue.”

The three of you pause, nodding, remembering.

Joe frowns solemnly, peering down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I never got to meet him.”

“He would have adored you,” you say.

“Really?”

“Are you kidding?! You would have been best friends. Always looking out for people. Always plotting the next escapade. That charming chaotic energy. The utter inability to bake anything.”

“Awwww.” Joe beams, delighted. “I fucking love you guys.”

“That’s the thing,” Roger says. “People don’t realize it. We’re more of a family than a band. We find people we take a shine to like ancient treasure, snatch them up, sand away all their rough edges, show them everything the world has to offer. And if they can survive the casualties of stardom, that trial by fire, they become permanent. They grow like roots into our blood, our bones...and perhaps we claim a part of theirs as well. They become things we can’t live without.”

“And once you’re in the family,” John tells Joe with a fond, crafty smile. “You can never leave.”

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, can I request a headcannon with the killers that has s/o that has a German Shepard as a pet and would take to trail as to protect and guard s/o.

[yes you can i love dogs asdfdg this made me so happy ;w;]

sort of crack what else is new

Killers X reader with German Shepherd

Evan will pretend to be disgusted by doggo and avoid you two. “Real men don’t care about animals,” his father’s words echo in his head. Still, he won’t place any bear traps the entire trial out of concern for puppy’s safety. Please take the dog to meet him properly after the trial, he’ll warm up to the idea of pets in no time.

Philip loves animals. When he rings his bell and uncloaks to approach you, puppy is spooked and he’ll be so disappointed! He’ll throw the entire trial to hang out with you two, trying to build trust with the dog, and is so happy when it finally lets him pet it!

Max is, um... ABORT MISSION OK. He has some unresolved issues with animals (see: cow tree incident) and you’ll need to hide puppy and give Max a very stern talking to before introducing them. Once Max realizes animal = fren, he’ll become instant besties with puppy!

Sally won’t be overjoyed but is willing to put up with the dog for your sake. “Can you stop barking, I’m trying to have a conversation with my partner,” she’ll scold the dog when it, understandably, is confused by a floating ghost lady approaching its master.

Michael ignores the dog entirely. It could chomp down on his leg and he’d just keep walking. One time, you were whisked away to a trial while you were visiting Haddonfield with your dog, only to return after to find Michael laying motionless on the floor with the dog sprawled out on his face, Michael refusing to move to acknowledge the animal.

Lisa immediately lunges for the dog upon seeing it. “LISA NO DON’T EAT —” you start, when you see she’s just hugging the puppy tightly, while it’s frozen in place and very confused why there’s a tiny person covered in mud clinging to it. “I used to have a dog when I was a child!” she’ll excitedly tell you while giving head pats to the dog with her non-taloned hand.

Anna will look at puppy, cocking her head while humming, with the dog mirroring the action to listen to her lullaby. “You bring food?” she finally asks you, pointing at the animal with her axe. “NO! He’s my friend!” you’re quick to explain. Anna ends up training the dog to locate survivors in trials, and now neither of you are allowed to bring it into trials with you anymore.

Herman... oh lord have mercy. Herman giggles maniacally while approaching the animal, shock charging in his hand. “DON’T,” you warn sternly, protectively stepping in front of the growling doggo. He huffs in disappointment, before shocking you instead. Your scream is more from frustration than pain, but puppy launches himself at Herman, biting into the killer’s arm. “Hmm... interesting reaction,” Herman muses to himself, lifting his bloodied arm (dog still hanging on) and not seeming to care about the pain.

Bubba is terrified of the dog. Even when you manage to get him to pet it after gently coaxing both him and the dog, his hand is shaking. It’s going to take a lot of work to get him to trust such a ‘scary-looking’ animal.

Frank thinks German Shepherds are cool as fuck and fit his ‘badass’ image. He’ll often sneak puppy away from you, prancing around with it in the killers’ camp or trials to try to look tough. That being said, he’s secretly a huge softie and you’ll often find him cuddling the dog in his sleep when he thinks no one will see.

Joey just wants to chill with you and puppy. He’ll let the dog climb all over him and give him sloppy puppy kisses, and he’ll carry the dog around in his lap like a chihuahua. If your dog didn’t sleep in your bed before, too bad it does now because “He’s a family member and is not sleeping on the floor!” according to your boyfriend.

Julie is more of a cat person, but she’s more than happy to play with the dog. When she’s trowing the same stick for the 35th time in their game of fetch, you sneak off to repair a generator and neither of them notice.

Susie... well. “Who’s a good boy? A-who’s a good boy!? You are! Yes you are!” She loves the dog almost as much as she does you and will be extremely sad if you ever visit her without bringing your furry companion with you.

Danny won’t notice the dog at first, sneaking up to you in a trial and smacking your ass playfully. When you yelp in surprise, puppy growls and pounces on the killer, tacking him to the ground. Danny is screaming bloody murder while thrashing under the animal, while the dog is not even doing anything, just looking at him like ‘wtf is wrong with this dude’. It takes you a while to get puppy off of him because you’re laughing so hard.

Caleb is pretty cool with the concept of you having a dog. He doesn’t particularly like pets, but is willing to put up with it. Though he will snark at you to get the dog under control every time it starts growling when he kisses you or if, god forbid, it dares to jump on the bed with you.

Adiris will be like “Ah, a creature made to serve me”. She takes its leash and just... prances around in the trial, puppy following obediently behind her. When she gives the dog back, she’ll praise you for training it so well and give you a big smooch.

Kazan will be surprisingly accepting of the dog, as the most honorable samurai of his time had canine companions. It’s not the same breed, but hey, can’t be picky in the fog. Prepare for a couple of arguments when he wants to teach the dog to maul survivors and you just want it to be a cuddly friend.

Rin is wary of puppy and the feeling is mutual. She's pretty misinformed about the breed, but will be reassured when she sees how well-trained puppy is. Some mischief ensues when puppy once mistakes her floating leg as a new toy and takes off with it, causing an angry Rin to phase after it to catch up.

Pyramid Head will just stare at the dog, then tilt his headpiece in an unimpressed manner as if to say “Really?”. He’ll come around once he realizes puppy makes a fantastic guard dog, and he’ll let it roam the halls of the school outside of trials to look for intruders while he focuses on spending more time with you.

Amanda vibes with the breed being misunderstood and instantly wants to be a puppy mom. She’ll make a spiked collar for the dog, despite your protests. Will make a very pretty picture laying on the couch chilling with the dog, wearing her leather jacket and puppy wearing his new studded leather collar.

(Bonus: Clown running as fast as his chubby legs will carry him while Freddy is getting mauled by the dog into a bloody pile next to him. Clown slips on a pile of dog poop and the animal catches up to him, lunging for his throat. A small distance away, you’re watching the spectacle unfold with Quentin who high-fives you with a smug grin.)

(Bonus 2: The Demogorgon finds you in a trial, but puppy jumps in front of you and growls at the killer. Demo screeches, opening his maw wide and causing puppy to slink down in submission and whimper pathetically. Demo closes his mouth and cocks his head. Puppy starts wagging his tail and curious butt sniffing ensues between the dog and the killer.)

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leafs-lover · 4 years ago

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 15

Series Masterlist

A/N: Italics is a flashback.

Summary: It is Oliver’s first birthday party. You have friends and family visit for the occasion. You and Fred celebrate Thanksgiving as a family.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW

Word Count: 5100

Chapter 15

November 6, 2022

Today you are throwing Oliver’s first birthday party. The penguins have a few days with just practices. The leafs play the following day so Fred asked to have the party the week before his actual birthday, to allow some of his old and current teammates could come. A few of your friends have come down for the weekend to help celebrate his birthday, as well as his parents.

You through him a “Mr. Onderful” themed party; he has on a onesie that had a white bowtie, jeans and suspenders.

You walk in and see Fred dressed in jeans and a white button-up tee with a black bow tie. He gives you a hug “Hey (Y/N).” “Hey Fred, nice outfit” you say half joking half serious. He did look really good, had you weak in the knees.

“I wanted to match my boy” he jokes bouncing Oliver.

“Well you both look really good” you reply realizing you haven’t separated yet.

“So do you (Y/N/N)” he says looking down at you. You are wearing a black maxi dress, its low cut and tight in the top accentuating your boobs, at the waist it becomes flowy. You are still breast feeding, so your breasts are slightly larger.

You see Fred’s eyes shift from your eyes to your boobs which you ignore “thanks Fred.”

You separate from your hug “looks great in here” he says.

“Thanks, but Heather the planner did most of the work. Couldn’t have done this without her” you explain.

Fred rented out a large party space, and got some jumping castles and games for some of the older kids. The party colours were black, white and gold, with cookies in the shape of bowties and mustaches, as well as some cupcakes. Everything turned out super cute.

The guests start trickling in, and even though he is turning one he is spoiled by everyone. There was a fair bit of penguins gear, books, mini sticks and various sports equipment. Auston even got him a shirt that said “little red” earning a laugh from everyone.

Everyone is having a great time as Oliver stumbles around the party. Fred takes him to a jumping castle. He climbs in with him and sits on his knees and helps him jump up and down on as his baby laugh fills the room.

“That is just the cutest thing ever” Allie says, walking up with Carlee, Anna and Kathy.

“I love baby laughs, they make my heart explode” Kathy says.

“It really is” you say smiling.

“So is his girlfriend coming?” Carlee asks, but you can tell that isn’t what she wants to asks.

“Well the party is half over so I’m going to say no. Last we talked about her, he mentioned he hadn’t introduced him to Oliver yet” you respond.

“He hasn’t brought her to any games or anything. I don’t know if he is ready to introduce her to that part of his life yet either” Kathy adds.

Throughout the party you see Charlotte and Ernst, Ernst smiles at you while Charlotte walks up and you have some small talk with her. While you haven’t talked directly to her since the last time you saw her, she did add you on Instagram.

“Hey so I have something to ask you, it’s about my mom” Fred says.

“Okay, go ahead” you respond a little nervous.

“So apparently I don’t send her enough pictures or videos of Ollie, she is mad at me for this.”

This causes you to laugh lightly “Anyways I sent her a video you had posted on Instagram and she wants to know if you will accept her request so she can see pictures and videos of him since I don’t post on there. She wanted to know if you’d be comfortable with it before sending the request, didn’t want it to upset you or anything.”

“Oh come on Fred, you know me better than that. Of course she can add me!” you say.

“Thanks (Y/N/N). This really helps get me out of the dog house with her” he says, you give him a light smile.

You have sent her some videos and pictures directly to her over the past couple months, which you know she appreciates. While you know you Fred has repaired his relationship with his father, you don’t know if you will. But at least you can have some relationship and be civil with your son’s grandmother.

After the party you sit around with your friends, Oliver is with Fred for the night. “So what’s going on with you two?” Carlee asks “I saw him checking you out all night.”

“He wasn’t checking me out” you state filling up the glasses with more wine.

“He couldn’t stop staring at your boobs, he wasn’t subtle.”

“Well can you blame him?” you joke.

“Yeah they were nice before, but since you started breast feeding they are even bigger” Allie jokes.

A bottle later Carlee looks at you “so are you going to make us ask you? We know something happened” You just stare at her slowly taking a sip of wine as 4 eyes stare at you.

You know these girls see through you, being friends since kindergarten. They know what you are thinking before you even think it. You sigh before saying “about a month ago we slept together.”

“WHAT! HOW?” Carlee yells. “How was it?!” Allie yells at the same time.

“Answer her question first, spare no deets” Carlee exclaims.

“It was amazing, as always” you laugh.

“It was amazing” Allie says mockingly. “We need more.”

“Well he knows what he is doing, and he does it very well. He always has” you say taking a sip. “He isn’t someone who is just looking out for himself, he makes sure to take care of me. More than once. “ you smirk, enunciating each word. “But it happened last month, his birthday, I went to the game and we went back to his place had a couple drinks and well you know…” you trail off.

“Last time I heard a story of you two getting drunk and sleeping together it ended with a baby” Carlee laughs.

“I have an IUD now, so I don’t have to worry about forgetting pills. And he used a condom anyways.”

“Okay but like spill, there is more to this. Like how many times?” Allie says.

“We had sex once” you reply. “That’s not what we’re talking about” Carlee groans.

“Twice” you say smirking. “The first time was basically just his mouth, god he is soooo good with his mouth”

“Fuck I need to get me a guy like Freddie” Allie says. “What about the sex?”

“I told you before; he is very good at what he does. But we never talked about it the next day. When I left it was kind of awkward and cold. I don’t know if he regretted it because of Danielle, or just regretted it in general. I mean the time before it caused major problems so maybe he was waiting for something to happen. Or was expecting me to ruin it again.”

“The way he was looking at you today didn’t look like he regretted it. Looked like he wanted to do it again, and maybe another time” Carlee says grinning at you.

“I don’t want to complicate things. Besides I have been seeing someone for the past 3 weeks."

“Boring” Allie says.

“It wasn’t boring, he is a graphic designer. I’m seeing him again Tuesday night after I drop you ladies at the airport.”

“What about Fred?” “What about him, he has Danielle.”

___________________________________________________________

“Hello”

“Hey Fred. Ollie has a fever of 101, and he hasn’t been eating anything really. I called the doctor and they said to keep an eye on him and if he isn’t better to bring him in tomorrow. He won’t stop crying, I can’t calm him down” you rambles quickly barely stopping. All the time you’re talking Oliver is screaming in the background.

“Oh geez” Fred whispers quietly.

“I just, I –“ before you can answer Fred talks again “I’ll be right there.” He is at home for a homestead, but tonight is a night that you have Oliver, and Fred doesn’t have a game.

“Hey” you say opening the door.

“I finally got him to sleep” You explain. “He had a low fever this morning but wasn’t overly hungry, I thought maybe he was teething. He was playing with his toys but seemed fussier than normal. After his nap it got bad, his fever was almost 101°F, he wouldn’t eat and was screaming, I –.” Words are spewing out of your mouth a mile a minute.

He wraps you in a hug “(Y/N/N) babies get sick, it’s okay. You did everything right.” He is trying to calm you down, but your heart is racing, feels like it is beating out of your chest.

“I just am so stressed out, I didn’t know what to do. He never has been like this”

“Go sit down, I’ll get us a drink” he says walking to the kitchen, You sit on the couch and Fred joins you setting two waters on the coffee table “I thought you meant alcohol” you joke lightly as he takes off his jacket.

“Wow you look nice” you say looking him up and down. He has a nice button down shirt tucked into his black dress pants. Seeing him makes your breath hitch slightly.

“Yeah I was at dinner” he says sitting beside you.

“Sorry didn’t mean to interrupt your date.”

He stares at you for a minute. In the chaos you didn’t even get a chance to look at him, and never even considered why he asked you to watch Oliver when he was home with no game. “You would only dress like that if it was a date” you explain.

“Oh. Well it’s not a big deal, Oliver is more important.” Your heart is still racing as you sit there, he pulls you into his lap and strokes your back as tears immediately fall from your eyes. “Hey, hey, hey your fine, and he is fine, no need for this.”

He tilts your head and wipes the tears off your face placing a light kiss on your forehead. You sit there crying as place your head on his shoulder, Fred’s big arms wrapped around you. Finally you stop crying and sit there in silence. You look at Fred through your puffy blurry eyes “you’re doing great (Y/N/N).”

“Stuff like this makes me wish my mom was around still” you whisper.

“(Y/N) you are an amazing mother, and if she was around she would tell you that you’re doing everything right. Babies just gets sick sometimes. Let’s get you to bed.” He carries you to your bedroom setting you on the duvet. You pull them back sliding under them. Fred turns to leave the room “will you stay?” you ask lightly.

“Yeah of course” he replies turning off the light “ I’ll sleep on the couch”

“No, I can’t have you messing your back out there. This bed is big enough.”

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod and pull the blankets down on the other side of the bed. He removes his pants and shirt, leaving him in boxers, he crawls in beside you and pulls the duvet up. He pulls you in close and wraps his arms around you. You feel his warm body pressed against you as his hand stroke your hair lightly. His steady breathing helps slow down your heart rate as you begin to doze off.

The next morning you wake up at 6 and the bed is empty, you walk out and see Fred in the kitchen in his boxers making coffee while holding Oliver. His eyes are red from crying as he sucks on a pacifier. “Hey bud” you say toughing his forehead.

“His fever is lower than yesterday but still high” Fred explains.

“His doctor had an appointment available at 11, I’m going to take him to it. When did he wake up?”

“Half hour ago or so, he’s drank a little bit but not a lot. He has been pulling at his ear a lot, he might have an infection.” You nod pouring both of you coffee’s and begin making breakfast.

After eating you are loading the dishwasher when Fred pulls you in for a hug. “He’s napping, I’m going to go home to shower and change. I’ll be back for the appointment.”

Fred was right and Oliver had an ear infection. He called the team and missed his game that night. He stayed over the next few nights until Oliver was better, only leaving for hockey. Fred likely stayed a few days longer than needed, but you really enjoyed having him around. It helped keep you calm.

November 23, 2022

“Happy Birthday Mommy” you hear as Fred opens the door, revealing Fred and Oliver on the other side.

“Oh you are both so handsome” you say as Fred hands Oliver to you. Oliver is in jeans with a plaid shirt under a sweater vest. Fred is wearing a pair of if grey washed jeans with a tight grey long tee.

Today is your birthday, and tomorrow is American thanksgiving; Fred has a few days off so you spend that time together celebrating. You wanted time with Oliver for your birthday, and since Fred had the time off he wanted time with him so he suggested you spend a few days together, you staying in his guest room.

You walk in setting Oliver down for a minute, Fred grabs your bag and takes it to the room. You take your winter coat off and hang it up “fuck” you hear Fred mumble quietly as he comes back to the room seeing you. You have on a pair of high waist leather pants with a black silk and lace camisole under a jean jacket. His reaction makes you smile to yourself.

You walk in to the kitchen with Oliver and see that dinner is set on the table. After eating Fred gets up and gets a box, he opens it setting a cupcake in front of all of you. You raise your eyebrow as he removes it from the liner before handing it to Oliver “it’s your birthday” Fred explains.

After eating the cupcakes you pick Oliver up and hold him in your lap, Fred puts a gift bag down in front of you, which contains a new pair of white Louboutin heels, with red bottoms. “Fred you didn’t have to do this” you say holding them up to look at them, noticing the sparkles as you move them in the light.

“I didn’t, Ollie did” he shrugs. He kisses the top of your head before scooping Oliver up “speaking of, its bed time little man.” He leaves the kitchen with Oliver to get him ready for bed when your phone goes off, a facetime request from Connor.

“Hey” you say smiling as you answer it.

“Hey, happy birthday!” he says.

“Thanks, how is Minnesota?”

“It’s okay, cold” he grumbles.

You laugh lightly “how was your birthday” he questions.

“Good, Oliver bought me some shoes” you explain holding them up for the camera.

“Wow, he has good taste” he says. You set the shoes down “yeah he does.”

“So do you have a sitter for Oliver? I want to take you out to dinner when I get back for your birthday, but you mentioned you are bringing Oliver back to your place since Fred will be on the road.”

“Uh I don’t have one. But I was going to start the process of finding someone. I’m sure I can figure something out.”

You hear Fred turn the TV on in the living room as you continue to talk with Connor for a few minutes. After you hang up you join Fred on the couch as he is watching Ozark. “Who was that?” he asks.

“Connor” you pause before continuing “we’ve gone out a couple times.”

Fred nods not breaking his eyes from the TV. “If you wanted to, I could ask Christie. Ollie is comfortable with her.”

“Yeah that would be great” you say before settling in to watch TV.

The next day is Thanksgiving, and you are having a lazy day at home. Oliver remains in his pyjamas while running around playing with toys or bringing you books to read. Fred spends the day in his track pants, hung low on his hips and a white t-shirt, you lounging in a loose t-shirt with track shorts. You go to the park, and spend time as a family.

You sit on the counter drinking wine watching Fred as he loads the day’s dishes into the dishwasher. You’re entire day makes you realize what you could have had if you hadn’t panicked earlier in the year, what your life could have been. You swirl the glass in your hand staring at him as he bends over, you see his pants tighten around his ass. You lick your lips eyes locked on him. You don’t even realize that Fred has stood up and is looking at you until you hear him laughing.

Your head snaps up and you realize he caught you staring at him, a blush creeps across your face as he smirks, “sorry” you mumble quickly diverting your eyes taking a sip of wine.

“You could try to not be so obvious” he chuckles.

“Oh, like you are subtle” you retort a smile coming across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re–“

“Oh please, 90% of the conversations you have with me you’re staring about 8 inches below my eyes. Don’t even try to deny it”

He smiles lightly as his cheeks turn red. “I mean I don’t blame you, they are nice” you joke taking another slow sip of wine.

He walks over to you and stops a few inches in front of you ”they are nice” he says. He places his hands on the counter on either side of you “very nice” he whispers, his mouth inches from your ears. You feel wetness pooling in your core, Fred leans forward pressing his bulge against your thigh.

You tilt your head slightly to look at him; his lips are quickly on yours. You wrap your legs around his waist pulling him in close as your hands reach up to his neck, tangling in his hair. He deepens the kiss; you allow his tongue entrance as you place your wine glass on the counter. The kiss becomes sloppy, a frantic mess of tongues and lips. His calloused hand comes up your shirt and begins playing with your nipple under your bra.

You break the kiss for a moment to remove his shirt, your mouth returns to him, this time to his chest. You begin biting his chest, only separating briefly when he removes your shirt and bra.

He stares at you smiling “so fucking nice” he says before his mouth attaches to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. A low groan leaves your mouth as your head falls back, your nails scratching his biceps, he brings a hand up to your hair and roughly grabs it as he pulls your head back biting your collarbone. He bites and sucks along your neck as you moan out, he applies pressure pushing you backward onto the cool marble counter. He begins making his way down to your core sucking and biting down your stomach.

“Mmm Fred” you say as he slides your pants down your legs. He places soft kisses on your thigh as he moves closer to the area where you need him most. He moves to kiss you on top of your lace underwear, his beard tickling the inside of you. “Oh” you moan as his tongue pushes into you.

“You’re soaked baby” he says kissing you over your underwear he groans as he tastes you through the lace. “Who did this to you?”

His tongue continues to push into you over your underwear. “You did” you moan out. Fred pulls up and bites your thigh while he hooks a finger in your underwear pulling it down your legs.

“You’re so beautiful” he says bending down looking directly at your clit, “so fucking beautiful.” You feel his cool breath as his beard rubs the inside of his thighs. He nips the inside of your legs slowly inching towards you core. As he approaches, your back arches before he moves to kiss your pubic bone.

You are getting annoyed by his teasing and before you can say anything you feel him lick a stripe up you. He stops at your clit and begins to suck on it. “Fuck” you mumble, feeling Fred smile against you. He keeps sucking on your clit as your hands reach down, gripping the counter. Fred slips his tongue inside your folds his nose brushing against your clit.

He licks the inside of your walls, your hands gripping the counter tighter, knuckles going white, as your hips lift slightly. Fred throws his arm over your hips to hold them in place. His other hand comes up to your nipple massaging it, while his tongue continues to lick the inside of you.

“Freddie” you groan “I’m close.” You’re almost surprised by how quickly he has you on the edge, but he knows your body almost better than you know yourself.

He dives in deeper, his hand pinching your nipple. He sucks on your folds, before sliding his tongue back in your folds. He pushes his nose in harder to your clit, you begin to whimper as your high approaches you. You close your eyes, his nose brushing your swollen bud. You moan as your orgasm comes, you spasm around his tongue as your legs tighten around his head.

He continues working on you as your orgasm continues, he doesn’t move back until he has licked up all your cum. He finally stands up wiping his hand on his mouth to remove the juices from his face, and wiping his hands on his pants. You sit up slightly on your forearms as Fred brings his head to yours, locking you in a deep kiss.

He brings his hands under your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist. He hoists you up carrying you down the hall, you bite his neck and chest leaving marks. He drops you gently on the bed hovering over you. You pull him closer before you push him onto his back as you straddle him. You rock against him, feeling his sweatpants rub against your core. You feel his hard member underneath you, and slide a hand inside and find his bare penis. You raise an eyebrow at him “no underwear?” you question as you stroke him.

You slide off the bed, pulling his sweats down with you. You crawl over him and place kisses on his abs trailing down his treasure line, his hands reach for your hair. You kiss his stomach, moving lower to his groin when you feel him push your head down trying to get you where he needs you.

“You want something Fred?” you ask innocently placing a light kiss on his tip.

“Babe” he groans trying to push you down further.

“Relax, so needy” you chuckle before licking a stripe on the underside of him. You place a soft kiss on his balls before you continue to his tip, tasting the pre-cum.

“(Y/N) please” he groans.

“Not a fan of being teased eh” you say placing another kiss to his shaft. Before he can respond you wrap a hand around him. You begin stroking him up and down a few times, you suck on his hip while you continue stroking him.

“Fuck” he says, his hands relaxing on you.

“This what you wanted?” you ask seductively, the speed of your hand increasing.

“Yes” he pants.

“You sure?” you lean down and suck another mark on his hip, causing his hip to lift slightly. “I think you want something else” you kiss his tip again “yeah?”

“Please” he moans keeping his eyes locked on you. He watches as you slide his length into your mouth swirling your tongue around him. You bob on him, hollowing your cheek to allow him in deeper. You set a steady pace, bobbing on him.

“(Y/N/N)” he says softy his hands gripping the bedsheets. You can tell he is getting close, as you continue to deep throat him. He hits the back of your throat while you bring a hand up to massage his balls. You take his entire length in your mouth, choking slightly as you continue your pace.

“(Y/N)” he says a little louder this time. “Babe you gotta stop” he says reaching down to pull you off him. You pout as he pulls you in for a deep passionate kiss sucking on your bottom before he pushes you onto your back.

He kisses your chest, sucking on your nipple, you feel his throbbing cock pressed into your stomach. He uses a knee to spread your legs slightly before he slides two fingers into your folds. You moan as he continues sucking your nipple. He slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of you, pushing them fully in every time.

You bend your knee and Fred kisses the inside of your thigh. His fingers thrusting inside you, his thumb pressing circles on your clit. He returns biting your neck as you bring your hands to his chest scratching down it as he continues to thrust in slowly before he fully pulls out of you. You wince at the empty feeling before Fred brings them to your lips. You open your mouth and he slips his fingers in your mouth. You taste your juices as you clean his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from you “flip over” he says. When you flip onto your hands and knees you hear the sound of foil tearing behind you. You feel his hard member brush against your folds, his tip teasing your entrance. You grind your ass back trying to push onto him.

“Relax, so needy” he chuckles lightly smacking your ass, you groan as he uses your words against you. He slowly slides himself inside you bottoming out, you feel yourself stretching for him. He pulls out, his hands resting on your hips. He uses them to pull you back against him. He sets a fast pace as you continue to grind back onto him. His hand leaves your hip and slaps your ass, harder this time, you wince at the pain as his hand returns to your hip. You continue rolling against him, his pace picks up.

You feel him lean around you, his hand reaches to rub your clit. He starts rubbing fast circles as you feel him becoming sloppy behind you. He uses his other hand to pull you back hard into him

“Aaah, right there” you moan “don’t stop.”

You hear a strangled laugh leave his mouth “didn’t plan on it.” You begin to feel your walls beginning to tighten. “Fuck” you mumble.

“You close (Y/N/N)?” he questions.

“Yeah, so close” a choked groan escapes your lips.

He continues his pace, rubbing on your clit. Your walls tighten as you clench around him, he keeps thrusting while your orgasm continues. Once you return from your high you feel him thrusting his hands pulling your hips back hard onto him.

“Freddie” you moan loudly. He keeps his pace before you continue “babe I want to ride you.”

He quickly pulls out and lies on his back; you crawl over to him and easily slide back onto him. Your hands scratch his chest as you set a quick pace on him. He pushes his hips up, pressing further into you “babe” you groan.

“You gonna cum again?” he asks, his hands playing with your breasts. Your head falls back as you keep rising on him. “You have one more babe?” he asks. You aren’t able to answer him before you feel your walls tighten around him again. Your hands dig hard into his chest as you ride him through your high.

You feel him thrust into you a few more times before his dick twitches, him spilling into the condom. You collapse on your back beside Fred.

You lay there for a few minutes, allowing your heart rates to stabilize. Fred gets up and heads to his bathroom to dispose of the condom, returning with boxers on. He has a damp cloth in his hand that he uses to gently clean you before he walks over to his dresser pulling out a t-shirt.

You roll over and sit on your knees as he pulls the t-shirt over your head. You look to the red marks on his hips and your hand grazes over the scratches on his firm chest. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do such a number on your chest.” A smile comes across his face as he crawls in the bed. He pulls you down into his arms “don’t apologize, I enjoyed it” he says as he kisses you lightly.

The next morning you wake up and brew coffee when you hear Oliver stirring. You place him in the highchair and get him breakfast. You reach up to get two mugs, causing Fred’s t-shirt to rise, revealing you black lace panties “Jesus” you hear Fred grumble behind you. You turn around and immediately hit Fred’s hard shirtless chest, he reaches around you to grab the mugs for you. He sets them on the counter beside you, before bringing a hand to play with the hem of your shirt. You look up at him as he brings his lips down to yours engaging you in a passionate kiss. You moan lightly, he pulls back slightly smiling against your lips “good morning.”

You spend the rest of Friday with him and Oliver. You watch movies and play toys enjoying your time the three of you. After you put Oliver to bed, you walk into the hallway and Fred pushes you against the wall, he picks you up and carries you to bed where you spend the night tangled in his sheets.

The next morning you leave when Fred leaves for a road trip. He helps you down to your car and buckles Oliver into his car seat. Before letting you into your car he pins you against it, bringing his lips down for a deep passionate kiss.

“I had a good couple days with you” he says mumbling against your lips. Your hands lace into his hair and smile “me too” you say before kissing him one last time.

Oliver’s Birthday:

Your shoes:

Next Chapter

#Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen #Fred Andersen #Freddie Andersen Smut #Fred Andersen Smut #Fred Andersen Fic #Freddie Andersen Fic #Frederik Andersen Smut #Frederik Andersen Fic #NHL Smut #NHL Fic #fred andersen x reader #freddie andersen x reader #frederik andersen x reader #fredzilla #because two people got drunk #my writing

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darksidechick823 · 4 years ago

Text

Snow Games

“Sometimes two people have to fall apart to realize how much they need to fall back together.” --Colleen Hoover

Part One Here Part Two Here

This is an alternate post-sequel AU that blends film canon with concept ideas from some of the deleted scenes. Plus, my own “how-it-could-have-happened”. It is the third in a multi-part mini fic that will cover several different prompts of 2020’s @hansannafortheholidays

Day 6: Winter Wonderland/Outdoor Activities

Summary: Queen Charlotte finally gets to spend some quality time with Anna, and they have a heartfelt chat on lost love. And, in an attempt to help cheer Anna up, she forces rallies the Westergaard men into participating in some harmless outdoor fun, but not everything goes according to plan.

“Did you know that I woke up to flowers at my bedside table this morning?” Anna asked. “They were gorgeous! It was such a lovely surprise. You wouldn’t happen to know where they came from… would you?”

Queen Charlotte shook her head, but there was the briefest glimpse of a knowing smile on her face just before she answered. “Can’t say I do.”

Anna raised her brow. “Why don’t I believe you?”

Charlotte laughed, “Because deep down, you know who it was from.” She tugged the blanket tighter over her lap. “And I was sworn to secrecy, so you won’t get any real answers out of me, anyway.”

The two queens were lounging on large outdoor chairs outside the castle’s south entrance. Servants cleaned off the furniture from the recent heavy snowfall and cleared away the stone deck overlooking the yard just beyond the steps. It was cold outside, but the women were kept warm wrapped in their cloaks, gloves, bonnets, and all snuggled under warm blankets. Agatha, Queen Charlotte’s lady’s maid and all-around right hand, had even brought out warm mugs of cider for them to drink. This was the first real chance since Anna arrived to spend some decent time with Charlotte. Though why the queen chose such a strange setting was beyond her. They could have easily found a quiet part of the castle to chat instead of the cold. But the sun was shining, and the breeze was light. In all, it was a lovely day, and Anna did enjoy the fresh air. Better than constantly being cooped up in the castle.

“So… what’s going on?” Anna asked as Agatha refilled her mug. “I know you’re up to something.”

Charlotte laughed, and before she was given much chance to respond, there was the sound of the castle doors bursting open and several footsteps approaching. The Westergaard princes had all filed out and moved to stand against the short stone wall overlooking the grounds. As Anna glanced at the men’s faces, she could see that a good half of them did not seem pleased about being outside.

Are they all in on it too? She wondered.

“Oh wonderful! You’re all here.” Charlotte briefly handed her mug to Agatha and unbundled herself from her cozy seat. “Shall we get started?”

“Not all of us are present.” Tomas sighed. “Astor won’t be coming.”

“What? Why not?” Charlotte asked, clearly disappointed.

“Freddie needed him, last I heard.” Alexei said. “Something about matters of state.”

“Everything is a matter of state with that man.” Charlotte sighed. “Oh, very well. We’ll just have to make do without him.”

“Well, if Astor could get out, then I want to go back inside.” Lars complained as he shoved on his gloves. “It’s freezing out here!”

“Maybe if you had some meat on your bones you wouldn’t freeze to death.” Derrick grumbled.

“Oh gentlemen, don’t start whining.” Charlotte said sternly with her hands on her hips. “No one is going back inside. It’s a beautiful day, and we’re all going to have some harmless fun.” She turned to Anna with a smile on her face. “In honor of our lovely holiday guest, we’re going to have a snowman-building-contest!”

Anna’s eyes immediately went wide as excitement started to grow within. “Wait, what? Really??”

“…Really.” Dirk deadpanned.

“To encourage cooperation and teamwork.” Charlotte explained with emphasis. “Now go on down there and split off into teams. I think pairs would work best. The more creations to judge, the better!”

Dirk groaned loudly. “What’s in it for us?”

“Yeah!” Tomas chimed in. “What does the winner get?”

“It’ll be a surprise given out by Frederick.”

Anna’s eyed widened as she leaned over to tug on Charlotte’s arm. “Really?”

Charlotte sat back down and whispered as quietly as she could. “No. I completely made that up. But don’t tell them. It was hard enough just to get them all out here.”

Anna tried to stiffen her giggles and straightened back up in her seat. The princes hadn’t really moved or bothered to join pairs—well, the older twins, Viktor and Georg now stood a bit closer together, but they seemed like the only ones.

“There’s an odd number.” Anna frowned as she silently counted Westergaard heads.

“What? That can’t be!” Charlotte eyed all the brothers in attendance. “I planned this perfectly—”

“Astor.” Alexei reminded her and glanced to his brothers. “It’s alright, Charlotte. I don’t mind joining into a trio.”

Anna’s fingers tapped against her mug. Astor couldn’t come play, but he wasn’t the only Westergaard absent. “What about Hans?”

Charlotte turned to her with a mixed expression on her face. “I proposed the idea yesterday. He politely declined.”

Because of his brothers…. Anna thought. He’s avoiding them like the plague. She recalled the last several days and how she spent a good deal of time up in the west wing, enjoying his company. They talked, joked around, he even showed her one of his latest paintings that he was working on. He was completely at ease with her, and it made her wonder if he would reconsider coming down. Perhaps he didn’t know she was out here, too. “What if I asked him?” she suggested. “I could run upstairs—”

“—Oh no. You stay here.” Charlotte said and turned to her maid, “Agatha, if you wouldn’t mind making the journey to the west wing? Please inform Prince Hans that the Queen of Arendelle insists on his presence outside.” Agatha nodded and hurried back inside. Once she was gone, Charlotte bundled herself back up under her blanket. “And now we wait.”

Anna took a long sip of her cider and smiled as she felt the warmth slide down her insides. “So… what brought all this on, anyway?”

Charlotte shot her a sympathetic smile, “I remember the fun we used to get up to during your visits to Vallacia. You held such a carefree, fun aura… quite different to every other visiting royal to grace our kingdom. I suppose I miss that side of you. I miss your smile.” She said softly, “This is a difficult time, of course, and I just thought this might cheer you up some and get your mind off your troubles. At least, for a short while.”

Anna reached over to place her hand over Charlotte’s. “That’s really sweet of you. And I love the idea!” Her smile waned a bit as she thought of Elsa. “I always loved snowmen. Elsa and I would build them as kids all the time. We had a special one, Olaf, that she brought to life. He was probably the closest friend I’ve ever had.” She took a deep breath, “he’s gone, too… the whole magic thing—” Anna took a moment to compose herself. “Anyway, I bet this should be entertaining to say the least. I didn’t peg this to be something that Westergaard men do.”

Charlotte laughed, “it really isn’t. But I suppose this is my way of getting back at them for giving me a hard time.”

“How’d you manage to get them out here? Especially the younger ones?” She was referring to Tomas, Lars, Dirk and Derrick. “They’re never eager to do much of anything.”

Charlotte snickered, “Are you familiar with the family concept that there’s one parent that’s fun and easy-going, and the other essentially puts the fear of God into their children?”

Anna thought back to her own parents. Both her mother and father hard their strict moments, as well as their times of spoiling her and Elsa—at least before the isolation. “I’m not sure if my parents fit that mold, but I can imagine such a thing.”

“Well, think of me as the nice one. The fun one.” Charlotte said. “Frederick is the terrifying one.”

“But they’re just your---well, his brothers.”

“As King and Queen, we’re the head of the family. It’s close enough. He more or less coerced them to—”

The castle doors suddenly swung open as someone else joined the masses on the deck. It didn’t take long to figure out who it was. Several of the princes suddenly seemed far more put out than they were before.”

“As If this ridiculous activity couldn’t get any worse.” Derrick grumbled. “What’s he doing here?”

“That’s it. I’m out.” Lars declared, but only made it two steps back to the castle before Viktor grabbed onto the back collar of his coat to keep him in place.

Anna was on the verge of shooting the complainers dirty looks but then Hans came into her view. All bundled up in his warm chocolate brown greatcoat and black gloves, he stopped at Charlotte’s chair first to greet her with a simple nod-bow and kiss on the cheek. When he moved to stand before her, his display of deference was much more involved. He bowed deep at the neck and then knelt briefly before her to kiss her hand. Anna was thankful that her cheeks were already pinkened from the cold air. It made for a good cover to hide her blushes working their way out.

And besides, she didn’t want to catch herself all flustered in front of his brothers. Ugh.

“Your Majesty,” Hans said softly as he released her hand and straightened back up to his full height. “You summoned me?”

“Yes, Hans!” Charlotte said with a kind smile, “We were hoping you would even out the numbers for our game.”

Hans didn’t even bother trying to hide the disappointed look in his eyes as he sighed and glanced to the congregation of brothers. “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”

“But Alexei needs a partner.”

“I’m sorr—”

“--Please, Hans.” Anna pleaded, and she could feel her heart skip a beat when he looked back at her. Oh, how she wished his mere gaze would stop getting such a reaction out of her. “Would you do it for me? Please.”

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “You wound me, My Lady. and here I thought we were friends.”

Anna tried to reassure him with a warm smile. “We are. That hasn’t changed. But I know how artistic and creative you are. I’m merely hoping you’ll accept the challenge of a new medium.” It felt weird to speak to him in such a formal fashion. During all the private times they spent sharing each other’s company, he was simply Hans and she merely Anna. No titles. No deference. Out here among the family, she didn’t want to get him in trouble for them being too lax. Her eyes locked on his, and immediately she felt a tad guilty. She knew he didn’t want to be here at all, but this entire activity was designed for her own pleasure. Just once, she wanted something to go her way. And her way wanted Hans to play, too.

“Well,” his shoulders slumped a bit as he bowed his head in defeat, “If that is the Queen of Arendelle’s wish, I suppose I have no right to refuse.” He dragged himself down the stairs to join up with Alexei—a brother who at least looked both interested in the game and delighted to have Hans as his partner.

Charlotte announced the formal rules of the contest, and then the princes all split off around the open yard so that each pair had their own space to work. Viktor and Georg paired together, then there was Alexei and Hans, Tomas and Lars, and finally Dirk and Derrick made the last team.

It took several minutes after the contest formally began for any of the men to even start digging their gloved hands into the snow. To Anna’s amusement, the field was generally split down the middle; two teams participating, two dragging their feet.

“How do you think these will turn out?” Anna asked her companion.

Charlotte shrugged slightly, “to be honest, I anticipate Viktor and Georg to have the best one. When I told them all about this, they seemed the most excited. I mean, they’re all grown men, and those two especially are the oldest ones out here, but they’re also the most childish at heart.” She smiled. “Dirk and Derrick, Tomas and Lars… I’ll honestly be surprised if they come up with anything resembling a snowman.” She eyed Anna carefully. The younger queen’s soft gaze was on the men in the snow. She tried to trace exactly where Anna was looking and couldn’t help but smile fondly. “I don’t suppose I need to guess the team that’s caught your eye.”

It took a lot for Anna to pry her eyes away to look at Charlotte, and when she saw the knowing look the woman was giving her, she blushed. Again. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Anna, darling, you know that you can talk to me. You have my confidence.”

Anna took a deep breath and glanced down to her hands as they stroked the edge of the blanket. “I know he wasn’t supposed to see me… but I’ve been spending a lot of time with Hans.”

“Yes, I know.”

Her eyes widened as she looked back to her friend. “…how??” Her heart started thumping in her chest. She was so sure that she was being discreet—not as if anything truly terrible happened. Nothing illicit ever occurred between her and Hans. The only forbidden aspect to their company was the company itself.

Charlotte smiled to her, “This is my castle. I know everything that goes on. That and the kitchen maids found it odd that Prince Hans was suddenly consuming twice as much cocoa every time he came down to ask for it. It didn’t take long to put two and two together.”

“Oh.” Anna bit her lip, “Frederick must be livid.”

“He doesn’t know. He doesn’t need to know.” Charlotte replied, “And should my husband find out, it won’t make any difference. Hans was warned to stay away because we believed there to be bad blood between you two. You’re grieving, and the last thing we wanted was for Hans to be unkind and upset you further. Since that’s clearly not the case, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

Anna let out a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness. I promise though, nothing has ever happened between us. Mostly we just talk. Sometimes we play chess. I’m terrible at it and usually lose, but it passes the time and gets my mind off things.” Her gaze shifted back to the yard. Hans was standing off to the side of his and Alexei’s creation, trying to clump a bit of snow in his hands. She had a good view of his profile and let herself admire his handsome features. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. From what she could tell, he didn’t seem terribly upset about being outside anymore. She wondered what he was thinking, and what part of the creation he was working on. “I got to see some of his paintings, too.” She added after a long pause, “he has such a marvelous talent. Does he have pieces hanging all over the castle?”

“Oh no. Just in his rooms and the adjoining corridor. That’s his space.”

“But why not?” Anna asked. “I’m surprised he doesn’t want to display them. They’re marvelous!”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t told you, considering the hours spent in your company.” Charlotte sighed and glanced to the yard for a moment. “It’s—”

“—let me guess.” Anna interrupted. “Something to do with his brothers?”

“Unfortunately, most things wrong with Hans have everything to do with them—mostly his immediate older ones”

Anna’s brow furrowed. “Are they the reason he’s also living in a private suite on the opposite end of the castle?”

“They tried to kill him.”

Anna could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes could only widen with horror as she stared hard at her friend. “Wait, what?I Why?? When??”

“Upon his return from Arendelle.” Charlotte said solemnly. “I can’t tell you everything. Most of the abuse he’s endured at their hands occurred before I married Frederick. But I remember just over a year ago, Frederick and I were taking a stroll through the grounds when we caught sight of Dirk and Derrick attacking him with swords.” She paused at Anna’s horrified gasp. “Hans held his own for quite a while, but Frederick ultimately stepped in once Dirk got Hans in the shoulder and it didn’t appear either of them were going to stand down.”

“They’re brothers!” Anna whispered. Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she eyed Dirk and Derrick. They were not putting much effort into their project. Instead, they were rolling snow and staring off in Hans and Alexei’s direction.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, there’s not many members of this family that are genuinely kind.”

“…I have.” Anna shook her head. It was no wonder Hans behaved as he did now. If members of his own family were willing to end him for what he did in Arendelle, why should he bother forgiving himself. Her own heart suddenly broke for Hans. She had no idea this had transpired. Not even Elsa desired the man dead, and he tried to kill her. What was it like for him, to have to share a roof with such terrible people? It explained why he avoided his family… why he essentially lived alone. Who would want to have to look over their shoulder at every turn to be sure someone wasn’t after him with a weapon? The mere thought made her shudder.

“You’ll keep that to yourself, of course.” Charlotte said, “I doubt Hans would want you to know the truth.”

Anna nodded. “I can see why he spends his days painting, and now I’m glad to have visited him in his solitude so much. He’s been so hard on himself over what’s happened between us. I wish…” she sighed, “I wish he could find a way to heal. He’s helped me immensely. On my worst days, I’ve gone up to see him and even just sitting next to him had taken some of my pain away. It’s strange. He’s the last person I would have thought to desire for company. I just… I feel a warmth that I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Charlotte reached over to gently take Anna’s hand. “I’m glad you found solace. I know what’s it’s like to lose a sibling. My oldest brother died years ago. We were awfully close, and his death hit me just as hard as Elsa’s did for you. It took a long time to move past it. The support in someone really does make a difference. I had hoped that we would have more of a chance to connect since I had concerns that the princes and their… less than stellar behavior might make things worse. But you seem to have found your support. If Hans is helping, then I couldn’t be happier.”

Anna smiled briefly before returning her gaze to her prince. “He reminds me of happier times when there were no cares. No troubles. Just a pair of childish adults having the time of our lives.” She squeezed Charlotte’s hand. “I miss that between me and Hans. I… I loved him then. I really did. And being here, reunited with him… it’s nice, but it’s hard too. I desperately wish he could be the man I fell in love with. Things are different now. I understand that.” Anna frowned, “We have our issues. It’s like… we broke each other, and neither of us know how to fix us.”

“Perhaps you just have to give it time. You’re dealing with a great deal of stress right now. Take one challenge at a time, and maybe then everything will fall into place.”

Anna nodded slowly, “Do you think Hans and I would ever have a real chance?”

“I think that all depends on you two, dear. If you want something strong enough, you’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

Yeah… but that’s what got him in trouble in the first place.

“I will say though,” Charlotte added, “he’d wait for you. For as long as it takes.”

This certainly gave Anna a lot to think about. She and Hans certainly had their share of problems, both as a pair and on their own. If there was any chance or desire to share something with him that went beyond friendship, she would have to find a way past her broken heart, her grief, and her anxiety of suddenly becoming queen. And he… he would have to finally forgive himself for his past.

But she also had to ask herself if this would be what she really wanted. Three years ago, she rushed into an arrangement with Hans because he seemed to be the immediate solution to all of her problems. In a way, Elsa had been right—it was rather foolish to accept a marriage proposal from a man she barely knew. The last thing she wanted to do now was make the same mistake. She was the queen, now. There would be no room for rash decisions without considering consequences. She didn’t need to give her courtiers yet another reason to think she incapable of properly ruling.

“Ten more minutes!” Charlotte’s voice called out to the princes below and pulled Anna out of her thoughts. “It looks like some of you could use a bit more motivation!”

Anna fluttered her eyes to refocus and surveyed each of the works in progress. Viktor and Georg’s looked to be about finished. Georg was attempting to mold a fashionable hat out of snow while Viktor used his fingers to draw a face. Hans and Alexei’s appeared in a similar state of completion. Alexei found some twigs and stones from the nearby landscaping and created arms and buttons for theirs. Tomas and Lars’ at least had the height of a snowman. That was about all she could give them credit for. Dirk and Derrick’s….

What is that??

“Agatha!” Charlotte called to her maid loud enough so the princes could hear. “Could you go inside and fetch the King? I’m sure he would love to become a third judge and marvel at everyone’s hard work?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Before Agatha could turn back to the castle, Charlotte reached out to gently grasp the woman’s arm. “If you could really just bring us another round of that delicious cider, I would appreciate it.” Charlotte said with a wink, her voice much softer this time.

It didn’t escape Anna’s notice how as soon as Charlotte made that announcement, the two pairs bringing up the rear suddenly got to work improving, or in Dirk and Derrick’s case, building their snowman.

“He’s not really coming, is he?” When Charlotte shook her head, Anna couldn’t resist snickering. “That was sly!”

Charlotte burst into giggles. “Wasn’t it? I wish I thought of it ten minutes ago! It’s amazing how far a threat of the king’s presence goes.”

“But… this was supposed to be a fun activity.”

“It is, darling. For us!” Charlotte grinned. “Those men have been getting on my nerves lately. It’s long overdue that I really get to push my authority around.”

Anna smiled. “Some of them are rather rude.”

“Yes, unfortunately the good ones had to be lumped in with the bad, today. But at least they’re the ones enjoying themselves out there.”

“What the hell was that for?!”

Hans’ angry voice broke the otherwise silence from the yard. Charlotte and Anna exchanged puzzled looks before unburying themselves from their blankets and heading to the short wall to take a better look.

Anna’s heart immediately sank. Alexei and Hans’ hard work was completely destroyed. The base of their snowman was still standing, but the center body and above were knocked away by a huge snowball with a concealed rock inside. Alexei was busy trying to reconstruct their project by himself at the last minute while Hans glared venomously at Dirk and Derrick.

Oh no… Anna sighed. Theirs was naturally her favorite.

“Really guys? Can’t you play fair for once in your lives?” Georg groaned. “That was completely uncalled for!”

“No. This is.” Dirk smirked as he produced another rock-infused snowball and launched it right at the twins’ project. It collided with the head and knocked the entire mass askew. Everyone watched as it slow motioned slid down the curve of the body before splatting on the ground.

“Wow.” Lars uttered.

Viktor and Georg exchanged glances that quickly morphed into mischievous grins of their own.

“Well… if that’s how you want to play,” Viktor said as he bent down to quickly scoop a mound of snow into a decent ball, “…take this!!!!” He launched it at Dirk as hard as he could, but the younger brother grabbed Lars’ arm and dragged him into the line of fire. The snowball hit the lankiest Westergaard square in the chest and knocked him down to the ground.

“Oops…”

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!!!”

Anna wasn’t sure exactly who yelled that, but within seconds, snow was flying everywhere. All of the princes began scattering, slipping, sliding, and flailing into the snow as they made mad attempts to take each other out. No one was left unscathed. Even the remains of everyone’s snowmen were ripped apart for ammo.

The two queens exchanged both shocked and amused glances. This certainly wasn’t how either of them anticipated the afternoon to play out.

When Anna looked back to the yard, she found herself only counting seven princes. Wait, where did Hans go? Her eyes searched wildly for her prince only to eventually catch sight of someone practically crawling on their stomachs behind the shrubbery. In-between plants, she caught a flash of auburn hair. It was Hans, and she kept her eyes on him as he maneuvered a safe path to the back stairwell of the deck. He hugged the wall of the castle as he climbed up the steps. His once crisp and clean brown coat were now completely covered in the front with clumps of snow. The powder was even in his hair. After a quick stomping of his boots, he approached Anna with an annoyed frown on his face.

“I’ll get back at you for this, Your Majesty.”

Anna winced. “I’m sorry!” She whispered quickly to him and would have tried to help brush some of the snow out of his hair, but he latched onto her hand instead. His eyes never left hers as his head lowered to place a kiss against the back of her hand. She could feel her cheeks reddening, and her eyes widened when he appeared to wink at her. It all happened so fast. She was released, and Hans immediately retreated back inside before any of his brothers could spot him.

Perhaps he’s not so angry after all. I’ll go visit him later… and accept whatever he’s going to do to me. Probably hit me with a snowball he’s got hidden in his pocket. Or he’ll have Sitron run me over at the soonest opportunity….

“Get Derrick!!!”

Anna’s gaze quickly went back to see everyone trying to take shots at the youngest Westergaard left. He was making a run for some of the trees. He barely managed to touch the nearest tree trunk when his back got pelted all at once.

“…Do you think we should stop them?” Anna asked, then couldn’t help but chuckle at Charlotte’s amused smile.

“Oh no. Granted, this is not how I envisioned the afternoon to go, but it’s certainly better than I expected!”

The castle doors opened once more, and Agatha returned with fresh cider. “My heavens!!” She exclaimed. “What happened to the snowmen?”

“The contest was abandoned for a more preferable activity.” Charlotte said, “This works quite well. Let them tire themselves out and now we’ll all be rewarded with a calm dinner tonight. Oh, won’t Frederick be upset to have missed this.”

“Shall I fetch him, Milady?”

Charlotte thought it over. “Please do! And Astor as well. I’m sure they could use a good laugh.”

The queens moved their chairs closer for a better view, then resettled with their blankets and cider. “Cheers!” They giggled and tapped their mugs together.

Anna clutched the mug to her chest as she let the cider delight her senses. Charlotte certainly had the right idea.

A fun afternoon indeed.

to be continued....

#hansanna #hansannaholidays2020 #hansannafortheholidays2020 #writing prompts #prince hans #princess anna #queen anna #hans' brothers #day 6 winter activities #post sequel au #grief #hurt comfort #fluff #mayhem #The Most Difficult Time of Year

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zwiezraczek · 5 years ago

Text

The Perks of being Roger's Girl... [Chapter 3]

SUMMARY: Anna is Brian’s friend, his childhood best friend. They were separated for a long time, but when Smile performs at the Royal Albert Hall, Anna is here, invited by Brian. There, she meets Roger, the dentist drummer, a loverboy.

CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3: Paying Off - CHAPTER 4

Freddie's birthday, a lucky day leading to February in 1974...

WORDS: 5.1k

Holding a package against her side, Anna walked on the pavement, looking for the house Freddie lived in with his parents. This neighborhood seemed pretty nice, the detached-houses painted with pastel colors made everything look warmer, cozier, friendlier and safer. The leaves slowly burnt into an orange color, falling slowly on the ground: autumn came in pretty quickly this year, just a few days after August. Anna looked up, the address she had matched with the number she found: she hoped that somebody would already be there, at least Mary, because, she had to admit it, she never felt at ease with new people. Especially parents, her friend's parents. Anna felt at ease with Brian's parents, only because they became her parent's friends, but otherwise Anna was the quiet friend when her friend's parents were around.

She rang the door, and a lovely woman with a warm smile opened, greeting her and inviting her to come in. As soon as Freddie saw her, he went to the lobby to embrace her, before she could even give him the gift she had for him – a shawl, she really had a thing for shawls lately – which she thought would fit Freddie perfectly. At the very end of the table, Freddie's father was sitting, majestic, and impressive, not a single emotion on his face, which seemed pretty scary at first, but Anna could work up with that. John already sat there, chatting with Freddie's sister, Kashemira, a cup of tea in his hand. Mary and her deaf dad were also there. “Presenting the step-family,” Anna joked when Freddie told her about inviting him. And Roger, sitting next to John, trying to talk with Kashemira and John, unsuccessfully. And when he saw her, he smiled, and waved, shyly, before showing her the place next to him. Anna couldn't refuse, and another place was empty, she could save it for Brian. Whom arrived late, scolded by Freddie himself, because of his parent's car being extremely moody lately.

After a lovely dinner, and the opening of the presents, Freddie's mother brought the birthday cake, as Anna chatted carelessly with Brian about the bloody car needing to be repaired but he still couldn't afford it, neither did his parents. He was thinking about buying a car for himself, to which information Roger replied with great enthusiasm, offering his help with the choice – with taste and budget, he said.

“I am so glad to see that Farrokh made such amazing friends, and has such a delightful girlfriend,” Freddie's mother said after putting the cake in front of the birthday boy, and looking fondly at him then at them.

“Farrokh,” Mary repeated, as everybody looked curiously at Freddie whose face expressed panic. He looked at his mother, reproaching her what she had just said.

“Did Farrokh not tell you he was born in Zanzibar,” his mother continued, without even paying attention to her son's eyes. Brian frowned, and shook his head before looking at Freddie, intensely.

“I used to know a girl who was Zanzibari,” Roger commented proudly, probably, as he looked at Anna and she smiled back at him.

“Such an international man,” she commented sarcastically.

“I thought Freddie was born in London,” John said, interrupting the two's little conversation, among others.

“Oh yes, he was... At the age of eighteen,” Kash commented, with a smirk on her face, looking directly at Freddie.

“Shut up,” he quickly snapped, a cue which nobody paid attention to.

“Our family is Indian Parsee,” their mother continued, as she went to look for their family album.

“Mom, please don't,” he almost begged her – he begged her.

“We want to see,” Mary insisted, encouraging their mother, with Anna's approval, nodding vigorously.

“Let's have a look at these then, the ladies want it,” she concluded, delighted, as she put the album in front of Mary.

“We need to see those,” Brian commented, before Freddie's father began to explain the Parsee history, absorbing Brian and John mostly.

“Look at this,” Mary said, showing Anna the picture of Freddie from across the table. She took a better look at it, a young and slender Freddie with boxing gloves on his hands. His teeth clearly prominent on his pretty face, and an unsure look. Nothing that Freddie was at that moment. Especially not unsure.

“He was quite a good boxer,” their mother proudly affirmed. Roger, when Freddie got up to the living room – seeking for sanctuary from the shame his mother was putting him in, sitting on the piano chair, and beginning to hit delicately the keys – took place next to Kashemira, leaving Anna alone, but not for long: John soon took place next to her.

“He had to be,” Kashemira jokingly said, “his opponents were trying to punch his teeth in!”

“Fair enough, good target,” Roger almost cooed into Kashmira's ear. Anna rolled her eyes, being apparently the only one to notice this little game of his in the middle of the whole agitation.

Agitation leading Freddie to sit by the piano, moving his fingers without any purpose on the keys, and humming something, “I come from London town”. Anna looked back, distracted from the chatter all around her to look at Freddie, singing a happy birthday to himself, catching her smile as she mouthed “beautiful” and he bowed. What an amazing human being, Anna thought before Brian's hand met her shoulder to catch her attention again. Even the ringing phone that Kashemira gave to Freddie right after didn't draw her attention to what was happening in the living room – almost silence, something unusual for Freddie being in presence of an instrument near him.

“So Freddie told me you're a sort of scientist,” their mother told Brian, with the album between his hands, handing it to Anna now as he looked her in the eyes, smiling. Anna grabbed what he gave her, and showed it to John, who quickly glanced over the pictures.

“Astrophysics actually,” Brian corrected.

“He is very good at it,” Anna added, and Brian just waved it off, shyly.

“And he's a dentist,” John intervened, pointing Roger, sitting next to Kashemira, his hand lazily resting on her backrest.

“I was never a dentist,” he emphasized. “Never.”

“He's a dentist,” John and Anna replied in unison, before laughing as they saw Roger's displeased face.

“I personally wouldn't let him touch my teeth,” Brian admitted, “did you know that on the last exam he told his teacher that he doesn't know the meaning of a word in Greek because 'we're not studying Greek here, we're dentists!',” Brian imitated Roger's offended and annoyed voice, and the real Roger could just roll his eyes before turning towards Kashemira.

“Kash, what are you doing later,” he carelessly asked, recovering pretty quickly from what was previously said about him.

“Homework,” she confusingly replied.

“No, she won't let you examine her teeth, Roger,” Anna said, before anybody could draw their attention to what Roger was actually doing. “Don't you see, her teeth are perfectly white and beautiful even from there?”

“I just wanted to check if,” Roger began before being interrupted by John.

“He needs to wear his glasses,” John's word snapped right in front of Roger, displeased at least.

“John, by the bloody gods....”

“I have an announcement,” Freddie solemnly said, cutting short the beginning of a heated discussion about Roger's sight. “One of the A&R men from EMI got our demo, and gave it to John Reid. You know, the one looking after Elton John,” Anna and Mary's eyes met, glistening in anticipation already. “Mr. Reid wants to meet us, Queen, and who knows, even manage us.”

“Oh shut up,” was the only reaction coming from John's lips as he leaned back on his chair, putting his face into his hands.

“You're joking,” Roger said, and immediately after looked at Anna who smiled at him, her head resting on Brian's shoulder.

“He said he wants to see us tomorrow, midday, in the pub next to the Thames,” Freddie added, putting his hand around Mary's neck, and smiling.

After the desert, the rain.

~~~~

Anna and Mary stood next to the props, arms crossed. The boys were looking absolutely marvelous, the makeup team and the stylist outdid themselves, truly. Brian looked like a majestic black butterfly as he held the unplugged Red Special in his hands, the sleeves of his shirt creating the most beautiful curtain under his arms as the collar was richly decorated with shiny pearls, Zandra Rhodes he said to her as they dressed him up. Freddie's look was truly outrageous, the sparkling glove added a magical touch to all of this as he held the microphone with his black painted nails, taping on it nervously now. The black leather jacket John wore made him look uncomfortable during the whole embarrassing moment, but he said nothing, nodding slightly as the atmosphere heated up quickly. But Anna's gaze was mostly drawn towards Roger and the silver choker he wore. His hair was nonchalantly falling on his shoulders, giving him an absolutely angelic look despite wearing only black. He looked almost too pretty to be a man, and Anna would lie if she wasn't jealous about the look he had right now. But, on the other hand, she didn't envy the situation the boys were put in, making this angelic face look like the face of a demon.

“This is shit,” Roger exclaimed, hitting the plastic drums with an energy he seemed to never have before, fueled by pure rage and anger.

And he was the first one to find the whole situation pretty hilarious as the staff members told them that they had to perform on tape, no real playing, It annoyed him but he knew that the drums had a sound when properly hit and hoped – God knows he hoped – that the drums he would be given would be decent ones. Everything was fun and entertaining until he saw the prop, the drum kit, this plastic toy and began to boil from the inside with the greatest rage anybody saw coming from Roger – which John found absolutely terrifying, as he told Anna.

“Are you joking,” Roger aggressively asked the poor staff member as his angelic eyes full of rage looked at him. “Put three pans and four plates and give me two chopsticks and it'll be less embarrassing, mate! A fucking children drum kit? Do you know how much I could screw your bloody teeth if I wanted to?” He was almost throwing hands with this poor staff member who followed the orders he was given.

“Roger,” Anna started before being interrupted by the director of the performance, coming near them.

“The blond man should calm down. Nobody will know the difference,” he stated.

“We will know the bloody difference,” Brian added, trying to step out a bit to not let Roger's anger explode.

“You want me to lip sync,” Freddie said with a threatening tone, as their manager stepped between the two of them.

“You'll do what I want: this is the BBC!” he concluded, turning back and going to settle everything.

“Sir, they'll be fine Sir,” their manager said, following him quickly before turning around to address the boys, “you'll be great guys!”

“This is the BBC,” Brian mocked when the two men were far enough. “Killjoy.”

“Even more than that,” Anna said. “So disappointed in Top Of The Pops...”

“Disgusted,” he even completed, scratching a few strings of the Red Special.

“I'm relieved,” John finally said, bringing the whole attention to him and especially Roger's. “Perfect performance.”

“Yeah, on your bass and not on some plastic shit they got second hand from a thrift shop, mate,” Roger complained, sour and dissatisfied.

“Darlings,” Freddie said just before Roger could burst into another wave of complaints, “we shouldn't be upset now. They want lip sync? Queen shall provide,” he explained as he bowed, his microphone in hand and all confused looks on him – but Mary's.

“Fred, I'm afraid,” Brian confessed.

“Me too,” John added as Anna just looked at him, nodding.

“Do as you please, darlings. I don't care anymore. We should have fun, play along, do whatever we want to because nobody will know the difference,” he added with a smirk before he took Mary by the hand to the center of the stage to show her something.

“Weird,” Anna commented, “but in a good kind of way.”

“I don't fucking care anymore,” Roger said, a strange feeling crossing his face, a perfect mix of anger and sarcasm, “no effort for my drum kit? Fine. No effort in this bloody last minute performance of Seven Seas of Rhye. Simple.”

And as Anna looked scared at Brian, a bell rang to notify the extras to leave the stage because the performance was soon to be started. Quickly, Anna found herself near Mary, in the crowd of young people ready to dance to the tune of Queen's song. As they heard the first notes of the piano blasting from the speakers, and Brian beginning to play, they looked at each one of the boys, faking the whole performance. From time to time they cast them a look, smiling eyes as they were playing with this ridiculous situation.

What Anna found extraordinary was Roger's attitude during the whole show. They gave him poor instruments? Fine, he would give a poor performance then. His drumsticks were barely brushing against the drum kit, as he put no effort into his movements making him look sluggish, even distant. His face seemed much more relaxed than usual, and his half-closed eyes showed his annoyance to anybody who knew him a bit. His lips were hardly pressed against the microphone as he had “to hit” some of his falsettos, his eyes avoiding the cameras around him. The only smile he gave was to Freddie, when the lead singer turned back to face him during a short moment. And another one, when he caught Anna's gaze on him. And then, a girl elbowed Anna, interrupting this strange moment between the two of them, telling her that she had a very talented brother; Anna could only chuckle and thank her warmly before looking at Mary, as if the girl had told her the greatest joke on Earth.

As they finished the first recording, they got a small pause. Anna and Mary went up the stage, thrilled about what had just happened in front of their eyes, everything looking so fake to all who knew Queen, even if Freddie was putting on a great show.

“So,” Roger said, his drumsticks in his hands as he stood next to Brian when the girls arrived.

“Compliments or truth,” Anna asked, and Brian could only sigh as he listened to the two of them.

“How was my faking it?”

“Absolutely terrible, I loved it,” she admitted with a wide grin, and then she looked up at Brian. “He was so terrible, if I were the leader I would fire him.”

“Already tried,” Brian admitted with a small smile, “even if there is no leader here. But he told me that if he's out and becomes a dentist he will hunt me until he gets all my teeth.”

“Scary Tooth Fairy.”

“Effective,” Roger corrected. “Next take I should only brush the pans and plates, a new artistic choice, because I guess my beauty already radiates enough.”

“Big show off,” Freddie said coming their way with John. “You barely smiled during the whole performance, just when Brian mouthed “We look ridiculous”,” he pointed out. “John laughed at that one too!”

“John, you looked as if a demon sucked your soul out of your body at one point,” Anna said as Mary nodded enthusiastically before giggling a bit.

“A demon sucked my soul out of my body years ago, this is why I can stand these three here,” John admitted sarcastically, knowing perfectly that Anna would catch the joke.

“Always a pleasure to hear, John,” Roger remarked.

“My pleasure, don't worry Roger.”

“Boys,” a voice apostrophed them, “two more takes and you're free!” The director himself came near them, with a satisfied expression. “You were all fantastic, nobody saw that it was on tape. Nobody.”

“We are extremely happy then,” Freddie answered, making a happy gesture towards him. “Marvelous.”

“Yeah, marvelous,” Roger repeated, as he stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“See young man? This drum kit isn't as bad at all,” the director commented as Roger boiled from the inside, putting on a fake smile before bursting, hoping he wouldn't burst.

“Exactly what my brother was telling him,” Anna interrupted as the director quickly looked at her. She put her hand on Brian's shoulder, confidently. “Roger really out stood himself during this performance!”

“You are Mrs. May,” the director happily remarked as Brian made big eyes towards Anna. Her only reply was a look, worth a million words – play along or somebody will punch the guy and I bet on Roger, ten bucks.

“Yes, of course, my little sister, a poetess to be,” Brian said, uncomfortable with the whole situation. “Smart, looks like me, intelligent and very... Imaginative.”

“A great gift in the family I guess,” the director complimented as Anna fluttered her eyelashes with a sheepish smile.

“Absolutely, it runs in the family,” Brian sighed and was saved by the bell announcing the next take and the man left the group. “You'll owe me one you two,” Brian said, looking at Anna and Roger.

“But don't you live and lie for your sister,” Freddie asked, a cheeky smile on his face as Brian just came back to his spot, defeated. Freddie winked and followed him.

“Thanks,” Roger whispered, looking at Anna who only smiled.

~~~~

She giggled a long moment after they left the BBC studios, along with Mary. The two of them couldn't get enough of their fake performance, imitating them, Anna mostly making Roger's annoyed face as the whole team had a laugh, except for Roger who thought that her acting skills were very, very poor actually, not capturing the essence of his carelessness. She pretended to held the drumsticks, with only her fingertips, just like a posh princess and drummed in the air, making kissy faces, the ones Roger always did while he was concentrated.

It was time for celebration. But the team had to be complete, and it wasn't without Chrissie, Brian's girlfriend, and Veronica, John's, and both of them had to take their instruments back home. The ones who had nothing to carry with them – unless their poor hurt ego by some cheap imitations – decided to go to a pub, to get a drink before eating something when the others would come. Mary, Freddie, Roger and Anna parted ways with Brian and John near a nice pub where they would stay until the others would join them. The same pub Anna and Brian had eaten the last time they went to the market to see Roger and Freddie in their little shop. The pub was actually pretty nicely decorated, plants were climbing everywhere and the lighting was reddish as the sun came slowly down; people were already laughing inside, a few pints already taken, having a great time it seemed. The small group seated at a large table, saving some space for the four others yet to come.

Anna was sitting next to Roger, facing Mary, they both smiled at each other every time the boys were talking about the performance, again and again. Anna ordered a pint for herself, and so did the others. Loudly speaking, they were somehow ecstatic about what had happened to them – forgetting about the fake playing part – because, bloody hell, they were on the BBC, fake playing or not. And that, after months of doubts, sleepless nights and arguments. Something incredible. And as the others slowly arrived, the memories of what happened were surfacing again, just like new adventures to be told to Chrissie and Veronica mostly but not only. The whole situation made the two girls who weren't there laugh immensely; at some point, Anna mentioned the fact that Brian has a sister now as she looked at Chrissie and Brian rolled his eyes.

“I did it for the greater good,” she explained herself, a hand on her chest. “Roger was ready to throw hands with the manager of the BBC, which, in my opinion, wasn't as good as planned.”

“They guy deserved it,” Roger loudly said, rising his pint as he looked at Anna. “I killed the performance nonetheless.”

“You were playing like a slag, Roger,” Anna told him, her boldness coming from the second pint she drank in the evening, after eating some chicken pie. “Sluggishly,” she added as Roger's mouth went agape. He absolutely wasn't expecting that comment coming from her. Absolutely not. Nor were the others whose expressions were priceless now.

“Anna killed Roger and maybe not only Roger I'm afraid,” Brian remarked, not impressed by his friend's attitude at all, as Freddie started to laugh and clapped his hands.

“You better watch out for your sister's mouth,” Roger threatened, as he looked at Brian, “you should teach her manners, for fuck's sake,” he added as Anna gave him the most innocent smile ever. “And also, she's a liar so, you know, education went wrong somewhere.”

“Don't you talk like this about my sister, Roger,” Brian answered as Freddie hummed the tune of Liar during the whole exchange as Anna tried hard to not burst into laughter with Mary. “And you,” he said while pointing at Anna, “young lady, are not allowed to drink anymore.”

“No fun, thought An and Bri would the best siblings on Earth” she complained, pouting like a child which made the whole group smile.

“You'll thank me tomorrow.”

As they finished their dinner, already tipsy, they were heading to the club, in need of space to dance.

Anna was the first in line to leave her jacket in the cloakroom, all excited to be able to dance, freely. She loved dancing, it was absolutely her thing – obviously when she was bold enough to do it. Roger waited with her for a few minutes at the others were giving their coats away, her sparkling eyes were looking at him as she looked excited about what was about to come. He looked at this tall girl, getting as excited as a small child before Christmas just because she was having a great time with her friends. And once Mary and Freddie joined her, she became unstoppable.

She loved music, she loved how her body pulsed with it, she loved being free and careless. She shouted so many lyrics along with Freddie as they had their arms around each other's shoulder, lulling their heads. She danced with Mary, among other bodies, putting her arms on her shoulders, as if they were about to slow dance, moving in sync with the melodies; everything was so heated, it was so hot in here, people were looking at them under the flickering lights as a group of people, mostly the trio, was dancing, attracting all eyes on them. And Anna was radiating, her smile could give goosebumps, her laugh was so divine, and people – some of them especially – were noticing it.

She was able to see Brian, Chrissie, John – who after a few drinks started to tilt his head, and it was only a matter of time before he took his girlfriend to dance – and Veronica with the corner of her eye, but Roger was nowhere to be seen now. The last time she saw him, he was sitting next to a girl who played with the straw in her drink, giggling as Roger spoke to her. A typical Roger move, she saw him in action many times, classic. And she headed towards Brian, asking Chrissie if she could borrow her boyfriend, and her own brother, to dance a bit with him, a smiling Chrissie nodded as Brian dramatically bid her adieu. Anna had Brian's hands in hers, choppy movements were made, laughs exchanged and, as if they were in high school, they began to have great time together, dancing. And after a moment, Anna came closer to Brian's ear.

“Roger's rogering around, as always,” she commented, going through Brian's hair to say it into his ear.

“Typical Roger,” he admitted with a little smirk, “bonus points if he brings the girl back home. But won't happen tonight.”

“Ten bucks we don't see him and he's with the girl tonight,” Anna bet, looking confidently at Brian.

“Ten buck he gets back home alone, but maybe a bit relieved,” Brian told her as he offered her his hand to bet.

“I'm gonna be rich,” Anna chanted, teasing him as she danced away, joining Freddie and Mary, her arms carelessly moving in the air as Brian stood there, laughing before going back to sit next to his girlfriend.

Anna felt like suffocating after a few moments, it was so hot in here, and her being tipsy and thirsty wasn't helping it at all, she had to take another beer, screw Brian's lessons about not drinking too much, she was just happily tipsy, not blackout tipsy. Not yet. She had to grab a drink, right now. She looked at the bar, no Brian in sight, which was actually a very nice surprise – was he dancing? Making out with Chrissie? Who knew. – and this was Anna's opportunity to take another pint. Marvelous. She ordered a beer, drumming on the counter as the bartender was taking a pint and filling it, the drink foamed and almost fell out from the glass, but the bartender's talents were way too good to let it happen. He put the drink in front of her, and as she reached her pocket to pay the drink, a pale hand put the money in front of her. She fluttered her eyelashes, looking at the man next to her, paying her drink. She was ready to smile at him, thank him and tell him that that's not because he paid her a drink she would dance with him. Instead, she saw Roger's blue eyes looking at her, his smiling eyes.

“Drink's on me,” he said as the bartender took the money and slid away.

“Wow, Mr. Taylor's such a gentleman tonight,” she remarked, her hand on the glass. “Want some,” she offered before rising the pint to her lips.

“Enjoy your drink, I'll take a shot.”

“Oooh,” Anna gasped after drinking a sip of her beer, “didn't manage to catch that girl?”

“What?”

“I actually lost ten bucks because of you,” she admitted as she looked at him with a smile, “ was pretty sure you'd bring that girl home, but was wrong. My bad, respectable sir.”

“You're fucking shitfaced Anna,” he whispered as the bartender gave him a shot.

“Not yet,” she replied rising her finger before taking another sip, “but soon to be if I drink too much.” Her eyes were gleaming under the club's lights, reflecting purples, blues and reds as she looked at him for a longer moment.

“What?”

“Wanna dance with me, Mr. Taylor, pretty please,” she almost begged like a little child, as she was finishing her pint before standing next to him, waiting for an answer. She stretched her hand towards him. “Pretty please?”

“Yup, wanna dance with you,” he finally said and drank the shot before taking her hand.

With Roger's hand in hers, she managed to get through the dancing bodies to find a nice spot to dance with him, somewhere where they would have a little more space. She began to move, between the dancing bodies, locking her eyes on him as she mouthed the lyrics of the songs she heard. She was absolutely feeling it, she close her eyes as Roger was drawn to her. They began to dance together, slowly, her back against his chest now; she felt every breath he took, every movement he made. He had his hands around her waist, as he put his chin on her shoulder, slowly moving with her, in sync. None of them cared about how this looked, the music was good and the moment so perfect, nothing could ruin it. After a few beats, she decided to face him, putting her hands around his neck as he still had his hands on her waist, and she looked deeply into his blue eyes. Maybe for too long, she didn't know, but everything seemed to fade around them, the bodies blurred and only him. She was tipsy, slightly drunk, it was all because of the drinks she had, the last pint was maybe too much, she had to admit it.

And then, her eyes lighted up, Roger saw it before he could hear anything. She heard the first notes of Seven Seas of Rhye. She almost screamed, as Roger smiled fondly looking at her. She looked for the band, and she found them, standing next to the bar, all looking at them dancing and she caught Freddie's gaze with a large smile. And before Roger could tell anything, she grabbed his hand off her waist and took him through the crowd again, to join the dancing band.

And as their arrived, Freddie's voice blasted in the club. Anna took Chrissie by her hand, and began to dance with her, amused by the whole situation, as the girl shyly moved along with her. Freddie's arm around Mary's shoulder, he was singing the lyrics, trying to out-voice the speakers as Brian faked playing guitar, standing next to Roger who drummed in the air, with his fingers. John took a shy Veronica by the hand, and began to dance with her, as she giggled during the whole dance.

“I belong to you forever,” Roger sang, looking at Anna, she was stunning and careless as she danced with Chrissie, smiling.

“Forever, forever,” Brian continued as he elbowed Roger with a little smile.

Their first success, their first successful night, a great celebration. Maybe one of the greatest moment in their lives, especially for some of them.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x oc #ben hardy!roger taylor #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #queen band #queen #mary austin #ben hardy #gwilym lee #rami malek #joe mazzello #lucy boynton #borhap cast #bohemian rhapsody movie #queen fanfiction

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bad-at-names-and-faces · 5 years ago

Text

Children’s Games

Chapter 8

[warning: it’s got the angsty flashback you know is coming...]

Kristoff rode out on Sven with Karl to a favorite spot in the woods. Karl loved finding new roots to crawl through and rocks to jump off. Kristoff knew the spot well, and knew it was perfectly safe, and more importantly, away from well meaning people watching and worrying that the child was climbing too high, or that he shouldn't be running around without clothes.

He had packed a few of the pastries from breakfast, and some bread, and they had a nice light lunch. After that, they washed up a bit in the nearby stream, and packed and dressed to return home. They were in no hurry.

"You need to see your daughter."

"I can't leave Anna, not yet."

"I'll stay with her in here, don't worry. She's sleeping. Your daughter has been waiting outside that door for entirely too long."

He slowed down at the edge of the woods looking over the city while a messenger and one of the council members rode past, not noticing them.

"Papa! Do you want to see the babies? Let's go see the babies! Come on!"

She grabbed his hand. He had no choice, and it wasn't their fault. He needed to see them, he knew that.

By the time Kristoff and Sven returned to town, little Karl had fallen asleep. Kristoff carried him carefully up to the nursery, and gave a silent cheer to himself when the boy stayed asleep after being set down in his crib. He went back to the stables to check on how Sven was doing, and the twins and Olaf had decided to take the other reindeer out to the garden to play.

He decided to come along, since Sven was going with them anyway. They were attempting a game of deathball, which was rather difficult when most of the players lacked hands for throwing or holding a bat. Sofia soon ran outside and joined them, as she enjoyed playing ball much more than whatever they had been playing the day before. At some point after having lunch, Inga came outside and insisted on joining in, but was bothered by not having the correct number of players per team. This led to some arguments with her brothers. Kristoff had been pitching for them, and decided to take a break sitting by a nearby tree.

“Where’s Frederick, Papa? We could really use him to even out the teams,” Inga shouted across the field in his general direction. “He went out riding with that new guy from Corona,” Anton called back, “and who knows how far they were going, he didn’t say.”

“Oh, right! Papa!” Peder yelled, “We were supposed to tell you that if you got back! Fred went out with what’s his name?”

“Lars,” Inga said.

Then they got back into discussing whether they had enough players, and whether they needed different pitchers for each team, or whether their father could pitch for both sides, and whether they should wait and see if Frederick got back soon, and if maybe that Lars person would know how to play. Sofia began climbing one of the other trees.

Kristoff gradually tuned it all out, and Sven came and sat down beside him. The game would happen or it wouldn’t. They could figure that out. The weather was too nice to be inside, even if he felt guilty about it. He started to doze off. He couldn’t relax, even when he was asleep, knowing that the next child could come any day.

The first two births, aside from the usual messy, hectic affairs, had gone easily. They were both fairly relaxed the third time. They had the usual midwife and her assistants to check in on things, and the baby nurse was ready to switch her attention from two-year-old Freddie to the new baby, who was now old enough for Nanny to take him around with his older sister and keep them out of the way when the time came.

Anna had written Elsa just that morning that, perhaps, in a few weeks would be a good time to visit, but there was no rush. She had heard that subsequent children sometimes arrived faster, but she wasn’t expecting that afternoon. The midwife was sent for, and arrived with her retinue in short order. She was calm; the queen had two children already from two easy births. It wasn’t a fast birth, but a few hours later, the happy parents were sitting together adoring the newborn. The assistants were helping clean up, trying not to get in the way. The midwife was starting to get impatient for the afterbirth. Anna let out a pained cry.

Kristoff called over the nurse and handed her the baby. Anna’s face was distressed and confused. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this now. The midwife went in for an inspection.

“There’s another one!” She exclaimed, trying to feel and see more.

“What?” They said together. But the midwife didn’t have time for a reply.

“Breech! Girls, be ready! Ingrid, you’ve never seen one before, just follow my instructions!”

Kristoff could see Anna in more distress. He tried to focus on her face, but her pain plus the flurry of activity caused him to look over. He immediately regretted it. He was used to some blood, but not this much. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to her, holding her through her cries of pain. He couldn’t do anything else.

He wasn’t sure if it was five minutes or five hours. The voices of the midwives faded into the background. The baby nurse had long since taken the first of the twins to the nursery. At some point, he heard a new cry over all the other noise. He looked up. The baby was small, but loud and angry. The baby nurse had returned at some point, saying the nanny was watching the other baby, and Gerda was watching over the older children. Was she talking to him? Anna was calm. Too calm. Her face was drained of any color, and her breathing was shallow. The doctor came in, asking the midwife details, and told her to continue what she was doing.

He must have fallen asleep at some point. Someone said they had found two wetnurses. They had never hired one before. He felt the sheets starting to move, and a maid’s voice saying “excuse me, your highness” as he groggily sat up. Where was Anna? They were moving her.

“No!” He shouted.

“Please, your majesty, we need to change the sheets.”

“What are you doing with her?”

“We’re getting her into some clean clothes. You should do the same. She’s very weak, but you need your rest, too. Just wash up and come back.”

He washed his face. Someone had brought another set of pajamas. He changed into them. He turned around and walked back to the bed. The sheets were clean, and Anna was there, groggy and almost asleep again. She was pale and looked smaller than usual, except for the belly that still looked pregnant. He got on the bed next to her and gave a kiss on her forehead. He buried his face in her hair that was spread next to the pillow and fell asleep on top of the fresh sheets.

"Papa!" Inga shouted, "Frederick is back! Lars says he'll try playing, but we'll need you to pitch again."

Kristoff groaned a little as he stood up.

He pitched the ball to Inga, who was at bat. Peder and Sofia tried to catch the ball, but couldn’t agree on which of them should run after the ball and who should guard the base. Inga had made it all the way to fourth base before Sofia had run over with the ball ready to tag her if she moved. Lars was next. He had no idea how to hold the bat, so Anton tried to demonstrate, and he started to figure it out his grip, but still never managed to hit the ball. Kristoff’s first pitch had been the same as he’d thrown to Inga, but after that, he tried gently lobbing the ball the way he did for the younger children, but it didn’t help, and Sven ended up catching all the balls in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Lars,” Fred called from the other side of the field, “I should have asked if you’ve played any games like this before!”

“I’ll figure it out soon enough,” Lars said, walking back to the end of the line.

Anton was next, and hit the ball easily. One of the reindeer caught it on a bounce, and Inga made it in to score a run before Anton stopped on second.

It was Inga's turn at bat once again, and this time she only bunted the ball and made it to first base. On his second time at bat, Lars hit the ball easily, and Frederick and Pedder were battling the bushes along the wall looking for it while three runs were scored.

"It's not fair!" Sofia shouted, "we haven't even had a chance to score yet, and they're already ahead by four!"

She began to cry, and Kristoff discovered she had rejected lunch in the nursery, and hadn't eaten since breakfast, so they stopped the game again, and the older four began tossing the ball amongst themselves and Lars, helping him practice some more.

Kristoff took Sofia down to the kitchen and sat her on the table in the middle of the room while he grabbed a loaf of bread and sliced off two pieces, then found some meats and some lettuce for it.

She quickly ate it, and wanted another, which he got her.

"Are you ready to go back out now?"

"It's too hot, and I'm tired," she said, still a little grumpy, "can I see Mama?"

"Let's go check on her."

Anna was happy to see them. Olaf had come up to visit during the earlier break in the game, and he had gone off to find them again a few minutes earlier. Kristoff sat next to Anna on the bed, and Sofia squeezed between them to relay her version of the events of the morning.

"And then everyone else had lunch already!" Sofia concluded.

"Did nobody get you lunch?" Anna asked her.

"I wasn't hungry when Nanny served lunch. And I didn't want soup."

After a minute, Sofia hopped back off the bed.

“I think I’m going to go play with Marie. She always plays by my rules,” she said as she ran toward the door, slamming it behind her.

They sat for a few minutes. Kristoff placed his hand on her belly to feel the baby kicking and turning. Somehow that never got old. Anna played with his hair.

“Was there anything in the game she didn’t tell me about?” Anna asked, smiling and raising an eyebrow.

“They were arguing over rules, or players, or substitutions, or something... they can handle that. Well, obviously Sofia got upset, but that was really just not eating. It’s fine.”

“What’s bothering you?” she pressed.

“Nothing new. It’s getting so close now, you know I think about it.”

“I’ve been fine every other time, and I know that doesn’t change being afraid,” she reminded him. She held her hand over his, but she looked out the window.

“You’re still here, I know.”

#kristanna #my fic #angst #flashback #and fluff #chapter 8

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blot-squisher · 2 years ago

Note

Kinda curiouso - what's the breakdown on Slashers that voted to let Marcus live Vs voted to kill him Vs abstained?

Wow, sorry I took so long answering this! I kept meaning to type this up on my computer and got distracted.

Voted to let him live: 11

Danny, obviously

Pyramid Head, because he didn't go to all that trouble to find and fuck him just to see him die like a week later

Amanda, got the full story from Danny and decided Marcus sounded like an interesting person

Evan, he really just wanted to piss off Michael and doing the opposite of whatever it is he wants is just a sure fire way to do it... also he may or may not have already decided he liked the bratty ginger and reeaaallly didn't want to see him dead...

Thomas, isn't about to sit back and see his knew friend die! Marcus was nice to him! And he didn't even scream the first time he saw him!

Caleb, isn't about to vote to kill someone who was just dragged bleeding and terrified into the Realm without knowing why first. Danny did a good job arguing for the vet's character, and the old cowboy got curious.

Max, just followed Caleb's lead because he didn't care enough to pay attention to what was being discussed.

Sally, just wanted to disagree with Herman

Philip, he's not really a bad guy, he's just been dealt some really shitty cards. He's not going to vote to kill the adorable surprising guest that's just been dragged to the Realm unless he does something to endanger them. Also Pyramid Head scares the crap out of him.

Samara, likes to play with new people, although Rin and Sadako try to keep her away from anyone new. She wants to get to know the new play thing...

Carmina, much like Philip, she's really not a bad person at heart. She abhorred playing the Entity's game and has yet to kill since escaping. She didn't even need to be convinced to vote in his favor.

Voted to kill him: 6

Michael, mistakenly believed he'd either hurt, or planned to hurt Thomas. The idea that Ghostface was stupid enough to allow it or possibly even have facilitated it only made him angrier and less willing to listen to Danny's side of the story.

Kenneth, just really likes hurting people. Especially innocent people. Especially-

Blight, was hoping if they won the kill vote he'd get to use him as a test subject. They may be trapped in this hellhole of a Realm now, but that doesn't mean he can't continue his research!

Herman, was jealous and more than a little offended that his fellow Slashers were going to a vet of all things for medical care. No. No, his feelings are not hurt! Not in the slightest...

Charlotte & Victor, argued longer about whether or not they got one vote or two. Once it was decided they'd only get one no matter how they voted, they threw a fit and decided on kill.

Rin, immediately voted kill. Doesn't care. Doesn't need a reason. Kill.

Didn't vote/Didn't get a vote: 14

Freddy, abstained actually. Why? He's a shit stirrer and it wasn't clear who was going to win yet.

Anna, wasn't present. Unknown to the others, she was being held captive but the Collector. (would have voted to kill him)

Adiris, was out looking for Anna. (would have voted to let him live)

Dredge, there's still a debate among the Entity's Slashers whether or not he's sapient enough to get a vote (he is, would have voted kill at the time... he wanted to eat the body.)

Sadako, the whole thing made her uncomfortable and she abstained. Still got mad at Samara for her live vote though.

Kazan, no one knows where the hell he is! They haven't seen him in almost twenty years! (Would have voted live, just to fuck with Danny. He knows Ghostface is scared of him and bullies him for fun.)

Demogorgon, doesn't get a vote. Less intelligent than Dredge, but still way to fucking smart for an animal.

Ji-Woon, wasn't present. (would have voted kill just to listen to him scream)

Wesker, wasn't invited. Didn't find out about it until much later. (would have abstained just to see how it would play out, plan course from there)

Nemesis, wasn't invited, wouldn't have been allowed to vote even though he's smart enough to do so (Wesker knows this, but doesn't care. Nem would have voted kill in hopes of getting to do it himself. He doesn't get out much)

Pinhead, wasn't present, no one wants him there anyway!

Lisa, wasn't there. She's chilling in the Florida everglades and doesn't want to be disturbed. (Would have abstained so she could go back to chilling with her pet gator)

Legion, was trapped in the Lament Configuration thanks Frank (Would have only gotten one vote, but they would have voted for live if only to keep Susie from never shutting up about what could have been with the cute twitchy ginger and aw why is he running away from me?)

Jason, wasn't there and no one was about to leave the show to go get him. (would have voted to let him live, much to Michael's unending ire. What, he likes red heads!)

I think that's everyone? If I missed anyone let me know, and I'll make a react for them <3

#fanfic #surviving the game fic #q&a

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megalony · 5 years ago

Text

Daisies- Part 2

A second part to my Roger Taylor series which I hope everyone is enjoying.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Running a hand through his rather messy hair, Roger weaved his fingers through his hair as he made his way down the long corridor to reach the boys who were all scattered around the seating area just before the recording room. It was rather different to find all of the boys here before him, Roger wasn't usually the first one here but he was never the last one either and he knew that he wasn't late unless all of the clocks in his house were set wrong. He smiled at john who was sitting on the blood-red sofa styled like a booth you would find in a diner. His feet propped up on the table as he had a magazine in his hands, his bass guitar leaning against the wall next to the sofa beside him.

Leaning over, Roger set down the flash of tea in his hand onto the light brown table that John had his feet perched on.

Slinging his jacket onto the other side of the sofa that was curved into a bent horseshoe shape, Roger sat down on the edge of the table. Swinging his legs like a child on a swing as he picked up his flash again and took a sip of the beverage that had cooled down on the car ride down here.

"Mornin'." Roger stated, his lips curving up at one side into a lopsided smile as Brian looked over at him, nodding his head with a smile of acknowledgement. The mornings were usually like this, they spent a while getting breakfast, having a drink and waking themselves up before collecting here to have a plan of action for the day. So far three of them were up here, Freddie had gone down to make a drink before they started the day.

"Roger, this was delivered for you downstairs."

A frown appeared on the drummer's lips as his head turned to the left at the sound of Miami's voice. Why would someone deliver him something at the studio? How did they know that he was working here today it wasn't exactly common knowledge that the band had booked this particular studio. For all people knew he could be working at the studio they had in Montreal. Why would someone be delivering him something, he hadn't ordered anything?

All the colour drained from Roger's features as his hand fumbled to set down the flask beside him before he split it.

Daisies.

A rather large bouquet of daisies in a small square-shaped jar, wrapped in the same deep purple wrapping paper with a thin sheet of plastic around them. Why did this keep happening to him? Why did they find it funny to send Roger flowers when they knew this wasn't a game or a joke that he wanted to be part of?

Roger didn't take the bouquet from Miami's hands. He reached out and snatched the card he saw but shook his head at the flowers. He was not touching those. There was no bin nearby that he could dump them in and try to forget about them and he was not having them here to capture his attention when he was trying to work. This was his safe place, this was where he went to be with his band to make their music, he did not want his personal life interfering with that and yet those worlds seemed to be merging.

"Get rid of them." Roger almost snarled the words, Brian could see the drummer's upper lip curving like he was an animal baring its fangs.

"But-"

"Get them out! I don't want them take them away!" Miami rushed to nod his head before he spun around on his heels and backtracked down the corridor to get the flowers out of Roger's sight. He hadn't been informed like the band had of the significance of the flowers in his hands. He didn't know why Roger was getting them and he didn't know that Roger had received many more bunches just like the ones in his hands.

Brian was tempted to try and tell Roger to calm down, it wasn't as if someone had brought him a threatening letter or something crude. They were flowers and as much as their significance was making Roger nervous and on edge, the flowers themselves could not hurt him or pose any danger. He didn't need to get upset with Miami who was only the messenger here. But the way Roger was now beginning to shake showed Brian it might be a better idea to stay quiet rather than provoke Roger.

Both men watched Roger in an uncomfortable silence as he read and reread the card in his hand from the flowers. It surely couldn't hold much of a letter or many words at all given its shape and size but Roger took the time to scan each letter individually. Burning its note into his memory as he gripped the card with such force he created indents of his fingertips into the sides.

A glimmer of worry started to build up in John as he looked at one of his closest friends. Roger's nostrils flared as he breathed heavily even though he tried to pace his breaths. John could see Roger was visibly shaking but from controlling his feelings or from shock, he couldn't be sure.

"Rog...?" John didn't exactly know what he was asking or what he was meant to say as he leaned back into the sofa he was sitting on.

"Who gave Miami flowers and not me?" Freddie questioned as he came sauntering up the corridor, plastic cup of coffee in hand as he held his frame and arms in such a way he looked elegant, like royalty. The smile on his lips and his raised brows in question lowered when he noticed the state of his bandmates. Both Brian and John were watching Roger with worry who said completely nothing. When Freddie caught sight of the paper in Roger's hand and his expression he realised who the flowers were actually for.

Brian set his guitar down on the stand before moving over to where the rest of his bandmates were. Watching Roger reach into his back pocket, pulling out a square of card identical to the one in his other hand which came from the flowers. Roger carelessly tossed them onto the table he was sitting on, his chest now heaving as his chin tilted down to the point it was almost resting on his chest. He watched both Brian and John glance to one another in realisation before Freddie set down his coffee cup in exchange for one of the cards. Examining the paper before holding it out in front of him so he could see the message written on it.

Daisies for my pretty flower, I hope you and your dad are well sweetie. X

"That's two this week!" Freddie winced as Roger practically shouted the words in his ear, his nails digging into his hands to try and calm himself down as Freddie exchanged the card for the one Brian was holding.

For my Drummerboy. X

Roger tipped his head back to try and tip the tears to the back of his head in a feeble attempt to stop himself from shedding the saltwater that was welling the corners of his eyes. He didn't want to get so upset about this but he could find himself doing nothing else. This wasn't fair anymore, this was a cruel, sick joke that had gone on for too long and every time he thought it was ending it started up again. It had been two months since he last got a delivery of the stupid flowers that always came in the same arrangement and now he had gotten two in one week.

Each card that came with them was plain and simple but Roger could see the depth to them. The words that were used, the little phrases and nicknames and each one ending with one simple X for a kiss. Roger knew exactly who someone was trying to make these look like they were from and he felt sick to his stomach that someone was doing this. It was beyond cruel

"You've gotten nothing else, just the flowers?" Brian questioned, keeping his tone light but serious as he didn't want to upset or offend Roger or act like this wasn't a big deal because he knew it was.

"Yes, does it matter? Look at the words, Brian! They're pretending these are from Annabelle and it's sick. Anna always called Daisy her 'little flower' and used 'sweetie' and called me 'drummerboy'." Roger shot back, his ribs beginning to hurt from how heavy he was breathing but he couldn't focus on the expanse of his chest when all he could see was those words dancing in front of his eyes. He knew who was doing this and he could easily see they were trying and succeeding in getting to him because they were pretending to be someone they were not.

Whoever was doing this was pretending that the flowers were from Daisy's mother which meant that they knew Daisy's mother was dead or they wouldn't be doing this. They wouldn't be trying to freak Roger out in this way or even Daisy because some of them were for her. Roger had thrown every lot he had gotten in the bin but kept the cards.

"Why?" John whispered, not wanting to upset Roger when he seemed to be about ready to blow a fuse. But he couldn't see the point in this. Annabelle had been dead for over three years now. Why would someone want to torment Roger like this? They gained nothing from it because they weren't seeing Roger's reaction and it wasn't fair. This was an act of cruelty disguised as something so innocent as sending flowers.

"To piss me off? I don't know Deaky, but it has to be Lizzy."

Roger didn't know why someone would be doing this to him but there was only one person he could think of who would be sending these to him. He had no enemies, maybe a few rivals in the music industry but those people didn't know Roger. No one like that new that he had a partner who had passed away, they didn't know Annabelle or Daisy and they wouldn't know all the little words and phrases that Annabelle used.

Roger knew that Lizzy would know that and he knew she was the kind of spiteful person who would send him these little messages and the tormenting flowers to mess with his head.

But he couldn't see why she would continue to do this. It had been happening for a few months, a bouquet every few weeks here and there but not two in one week like this. She was upping her game to mess with him but he hadn't done anything wrong to her. He hadn't been rude to her or unkind or spiteful.s Roger could think of nothing that he had done to her to get this spite in return but there was no one else who could be doing this.

"Who's Lizzy?"

A shuddering breath left Roger's lips as he turned his head to see (Y/n) standing in the corridor, leaning against the doorframe.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger x reader #imagine #queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #Brian May #Single Dad #dad! roger #daisies

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